PSYCHOANALYSIS SLEEP and DREAMS
PSYCHOANALYSIS AND BEHAVIOR
BY ANDRÉ TRIDON
"Tridon applies the psychoanalytical doctrine to a number of everyday
problems, a business that ought to be undertaken on a far more extensive
scale. His chapters on the psychology of war hysteria and of comstockery
are acute and constructive."--_H. L. Mencken._
"His presentation of psychoanalysis is admirable."--_New York Medical
Journal._
_$2.50 net at all booksellers_
ALFRED A. KNOPF, PUBLISHER, N.Y.
PSYCHOANALYSIS SLEEP and DREAMS
BY ANDRÉ TRIDON
_Author of "Psychoanalysis, its
History, Theory and Practice" and
"Psychoanalysis and Behavior"_
"Nothing is more genuinely
ourselves than our dreams."
Nietzsche.
NEW YORK
ALFRED A. KNOPF
1921
COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY
ALFRED A. KNOPF, INC.
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
FOR ADÈLE LEWISOHN
I wish to thank Dr. J. W. Brandeis, Dr. N. Philip Norman, and Dr. Gregory
Stragnell, for valuable data and editorial assistance, and Mr. Carl Dreher
who lent himself to many experiments.
PREFACE
St. Augustine was glad that God did not hold him responsible for his
dreams. From which we may infer that his dreams must have been "human, all
too human" and that he experienced a certain feeling of guilt on account
of their nature.
His attitude is one assumed by many people, laymen and scientists, some of
them concealing it under a general scepticism as to dream interpretation.
Few people are willing to concede as Nietzsche did, that "nothing is more
genuinely ourselves than our dreams."
This is why the psychoanalytic pronouncement that dreams are the
fulfilment of wishes meets with so much hostility.
The man who has a dream of gross sex or ego gratification dislikes to have
others think that the desire for such gross pleasure is a part of his
personality. He very much prefers to have others believe that some
extraneous agent, some whimsical power, such as the devil, forced such
thoughts upon him while the unconsciousness of sleep made him
irresponsible and defenceless.
This is due in part to the absurd and barbarous idea that it is meet to
inflict punishment for mere thoughts, an idea which is probably as deeply
rooted in ignorant minds in our days as it was in the mind of the Roman
emperor who had a man killed because the poor wretch dreamed of the
ruler's death.
We must not disclaim the responsibility for our unconscious thoughts as
they reveal themselves through dreams. They are truly a part of our
personality. But our responsibility is merely psychological; we should not
punish people for harbouring in their unconscious the lewd or murderous
cravings which the caveman probably gratified in his daily life; nor
should we be burdened with a sense of sin because we cannot drive out of
our consciousness certain cravings, biologically natural, but socially
unjustifiable.
The first prerequisite for a normal mental life is the acceptance of all
biological facts. Biology is ignorant of all delicacy.
The possible presence of broken glass, coupled with the fact that man
lacks hoofs, makes it imperative for man to wear shoes.
The man who is unconsolable over the fact that his feet are too tender
in their bare state to tread roads, and the man who decides to ignore
broken glass and to walk barefoot, are courting mental and physical
suffering of the most useless type.
He who accepts the fact that his feet are tender and broken glass
dangerous, and goes forth, shod in the proper footgear, will probably
remain whole, mentally and physically.
When we realize that our unconscious is ours and ourselves, but not of our
own making, we shall know our limitations and our potentialities and be
free from many fears.
No better way has been devised for probing the unconscious than the honest
and scientific study of dreams, a study which must be conducted with the
care and the freedom from bias that characterize the chemist's or the
physicist's laboratory experiments.
Furthermore, dream study and dream study alone, can help us solve a
problem which scientists have generally disregarded or considered as
solved, the tremendous problem of sleep.
Algebra and Latin, which are of no earthly use to 999/1000 of those
studying them, are a part of the curriculum of almost every high school.
Sleep, in which we spend one-third of our life, is not considered as of
any importance.
How could we understand sleep unless we understood the phenomena which
take place in sleep: dreams?
Even Freud, whose research work lifted dream study from the level of
witchcraft to that of an accurate science, seems to have been little
concerned with the enigma of sleep and sleeplessness.
This book is an attempt at correlating sleep and dreams and at explaining
sleep through dreams.
Briefly stated, my thesis is that we sleep in order to dream and to be for
a number of hours our simpler and unrepressed selves. Sleeplessness is due
to the fact that, in our fear of incompletely repressed cravings, we do
not dare to become, through the unconsciousness of sleep, our primitive
selves. In nightmares, repressed cravings which seek gratification under a
symbolic cloak, and are therefore unrecognizable, cause us to be tortured
by fear.
The cure for sleeplessness and nightmares is, accordingly, the acceptance
of biological facts observable in our unconscious and our willingness to
grant, through the unconsciousness of sleep, dream gratification to
conscious and unconscious cravings of a socially objectionable kind which
we must, however, accept as a part of our personality.
February, 1921.
121 Madison Avenue
New York City
TABLE OF CONTENTS
I. SLEEP DEFINED 1
II. FATIGUE AND REST 11
III. THE FLIGHT FROM REALITY 20
IV. HYPNOGOGIC AND HYPNOPOMPIC VISIONS 32
V. WHERE DREAMS COME FROM 36
VI. CONVENIENCE DREAMS 44
VII. DREAM LIFE 48
VIII. WISH FULFILMENT 58
IX. NIGHTMARES 67
X. TYPICAL DREAMS AND SLEEP WALKING 75
XI. PROPHETIC DREAMS 85
XII. ATTITUDES REFLECTED IN DREAMS 92
XIII. RECURRENT DREAMS 102
XIV. DAY DREAMS 113
XV. NEUROSIS AND DREAMS 118
XVI. SLEEPLESSNESS 127
XVII. DREAM INTERPRETATION 144
BIBLIOGRAPHY 158
CHAPTER I: SLEEP DEFINED
Literary quotations and time-worn stereotypes exert a deplorable influence
on our thinking. They lead us to consider certain open questions as
settled, certain puzzling problems as solved.
From time immemorial, the unthinking and thinking alike, have accepted the
idea of a kinship between sleep and death. Expressions like "eternal
sleep" show by the frequency with which they recur, how constantly
associated the two ideas are in the average mind.
Not only is that association absurd but its consequences are regrettable,
at least from one point of view: if sleep is a form of death, the psychic
phenomena connected with it are bound to be misinterpreted and either
granted a dignity they do not deserve or scornfully ignored.
The superstitious may loose all critical sense and see in sleep and sleep
thinking something mysterious and mystical. The scientist, on the other
hand, may consider such phenomena as beneath his notice.
No sober appreciation of sleep and dreams can be expected from any one who
associates in any way the idea of sleep and the idea of death.
Respiration seems to be the essential feature of life, and its lack, the
essential feature of death. As long as respiration takes place, the two
ferments of the body, pepsin and trypsin, break up insoluble food
molecules into soluble acid molecules which are then absorbed by the blood
and carried to the cells of the body where they are utilized to build up
new solid cell matter.
When respiration ceases, a degree of acidity is reached which enables the
two ferments to digest the body of disintegrating each cell. This is
according to Jacques Loeb the meaning of death.
No such chemical action is observable in any form of sleep.
From that point of view, sleep is a form of life.
Sleep is even a more normal form of life than the average waking states.
In the normal waking states, the vagotonic nerves of the autonomic system
which upbuild the body and insure the continuance of the race should
dominate the organism, being checked in emergencies only by the
sympathetic nerves which constitute the human safety system.
The vagotonic nerves contract the pupil, make saliva and gastric juice
flow, slow down the heart beats, decrease the blood pressure, promote
sexual activities, etc.
The sympathetic nerves on the contrary, dilate the pupil, dry the mouth,
stop the gastric activities, increase the heart beats, raise the blood
pressure, decrease or arrest the sexual activities, etc.
In peaceful sleep, we observe that the vagotonic functions hold full sway.
In sleep, our pupils are contracted. Even when they have been dilated by
atropine, they become contracted again in sleep.
In sleep, the digestive organs continue to perform their specific work,
all the popular beliefs to the contrary notwithstanding. Infants and
animals generally go to sleep as soon as they finish feeding. Animals
digest infinitely better if allowed to sleep after being fed, than if
compelled to stay awake, walk or run.
The activity of the sexual organs is as great in sleep as in waking life;
in certain cases, it is even greater.
At certain times, during sleep, the pressure of the blood in the brain is
greatly reduced, and certain authors have concluded that sleep was
characterized by brain anaemia, which some of them consider as the cause
of sleep.
Indeed, unconsciousness can be induced by producing a temporary brain
anaemia, for instance by compressing the carotid arteries of the neck for
a minute or so. Sleepiness almost always appears then and lasts as long
as the pressure is exerted.
Special manometers show that the fall in the blood pressure invariably
precedes the appearance of sleep. In dogs whose skulls have been trephined
for purposes of observation, the brain can be seen to turn pale as soon as
the animals fall asleep.
But we have here simply one of the vagotonic activities mentioned
previously. In the normal organism, the blood pressure should be low,
rising only in emergencies, when the organism is facing some danger and
must be prepared for fight or flight.
And in fact, the slightest light, noise, pain or smell stimulus, is
sufficient to bring the blood back to the brain during sleep. Our
sympathetic nerves are on the watch and even if the subject does not wake
up, they rush the blood whenever it is needed for emergency action, in
this case, to the general switchboard of the organism, the brain.
But this so-called brain anaemia is not constant during the entire period
of sleep. The pressure falls gradually before sleep sets in and only
reaches its minimum an hour after sleep has begun. Then it increases
gradually and becomes normal again about the usual waking time. We shall
see later that attention follows an identical curve.
It has been pointed out that in sleep the respiration becomes slower and
that the amount of air inspired and consequently of oxygen assimilated is
lowered. But inaction in the waking states will show exactly the same
results.
A smaller quantity of carbonic acid is eliminated in sleep, the decrease
being about sixteen per cent. But that condition is not due to sleep. It
is due to many other factors such as the absence of light, etc.
The nature of the food taken before retiring has also a notable influence
on the quantity of carbonic acid eliminated by the sleeper; the quantity
varies from seventy five per cent after a meat supper to ninety per cent
after a diet of starches.
The sweat glands of the skin secrete more actively in sleep than in waking
life, which is also a vagotonic symptom and is also due to the fact that
the sweat centre is easily affected by carbonic acid.
This increase in the activity of the skin accounts for the decrease we
notice in the activity of the kidneys. (More urine is produced on cold
days when the perspiration is scanty than on hot summer days.)
The lowering of the temperature in sleep is simply a result of inactivity,
not of sleep.
We know that many pains, especially neuralgias, disappear in sleep. Many
of those ailments, however, are of a neurotic origin and constitute a
form of escape from reality. When reality has been practically abolished
by unconsciousness, they are no longer "needed."
Experiments made on instructors of the University of Iowa who were kept
awake for ninety hours showed that the weight of the subjects increased
during the experiments, decreasing later when the subjects were allowed to
resume their natural life and to sleep. The increase was solely due to the
fact that during the experiments, the subjects were relieved of their
duties, remained idle in the psychological laboratory and hence consumed
less organic matter than if they had led an active life, preparing their
courses and teaching several hours a day.
It has been stated many times that a form of motor paralysis sets in
during sleep. Yet we all know of the many motions performed by every
sleeper, turning from side to side, drawing or pushing away the bed
clothes, removing stimuli applied to the face, talking, not to mention, of
course, sleep walking.
Sleep does not even mean complete muscular relaxation, for sentinels have
been observed who could sleep standing; some people sleep sitting up in
their chairs. Many animals, birds, bats, horses, sleep in positions which
make muscular relaxation impossible; when their balance is disturbed by
an observer, they re-establish it without awaking. Sleeping ducks keep on
paddling in circles to avoid drifting against dangerous shores, etc.
In other words, there is not a part of our body which ceases in sleep to
perform its specific work. Our lungs continue to breathe, our heart to
send blood to all parts of the body, our glands secrete various chemicals;
we hear, smell and to a certain extent, see. The lowering of our eyelids
is simply a half-conscious effort to remove sight stimuli. Our nails and
hair continue to grow, although, for that matter, they do so for some time
even after death.
Finally our mental activity does not cease during sleep. Wake up a sleeper
at any time and he will awaken _from a dream_. He may not be able to tell
that dream but he will know for sure that, not only was he dreaming, but
had been dreaming for a long while before awaking.
Wherein, then, does sleep differ from waking life?
Solely in the form of our mental activities.
Sleep is not as Manacéine, the author of the most complete book on sleep,
stated: the resting time of consciousness. We do not withdraw our
attention completely from the environment in sleep.
When we make up our minds, for instance, to wake up at a certain time, we
seldom fail to carry out our purpose. Which does not mean that we are
suddenly aroused out of our unconsciousness by something within ourselves,
but more probably that our attention has been concentrated all night on
certain stimuli indicating time, distant chimes, activities taking place
at a definite hour, and which we had noticed unconsciously, although they
may have escaped our conscious attention. It has even been suggested that
as respiration and pulse are more or less constant in rest, they are used
by the organism as unconscious time-registers. This is possibly one of the
phenomena due to the activity of the pituitary body in which may reside
the "sense of time" and which controls all the rhythms of the body.
Jouffroy, Manacéine and Kempf have remarked that nursing mothers may sleep
soundly in spite of the disturbances which take place about them, but that
the slightest motion of their infant will awaken them. Many nurses not
only can wake up at regular intervals to administer a drug to their
patients, but, besides, can be aroused out of a sound sleep by a change in
the patient's breathing foreboding some danger.
Our withdrawal of attention from reality follows the same curve as that
followed by the withdrawal of blood from the brain.
Many experiments have been made to determine that curve and to sound the
depth of sleep. In one case a metallic ball was allowed to fall from
varying heights until the noise awakened the sleeper; in another case
electric currents of varying voltage were used to stimulate the subject,
etc. All experiments have yielded the same results: Sleep reaches its
lowest depth during the first two or three hours, _the average time being
shorter during the day than at night_. In the majority of subjects, the
greatest depth is reached about the end of the first hour. After the third
hour, sleep is easily disturbed, the more so as the usual awakening time
approaches.
To conclude, we will say that sleep partakes of all the characteristics of
normal life, the only essential difference we can establish scientifically
being a greater withdrawal of attention from reality in normal sleep than
in normal waking life.
We insist on using the terms _normal waking life_, for there are forms of
abnormal waking life in which attention is withdrawn as completely from
reality as it is in normal sleep.
In the disease designated by psychiatrists as _dementia praecox_, the
patient may become entirely negative, some time regressing to the level
of the unborn child, and withdraw even more entirely from reality than the
sleeper who, without awaking, is conscious of certain stimuli and performs
certain actions showing a comprehension of their nature.