CHAPTER III: THE FLIGHT FROM REALITY

Monotony symbolizing safety _enables_ us to withdraw our attention from

our environment, from a reality which we no longer fear, but it does not

_compel_ us to do so. There is in sleep a certain amount of compulsion

which is not accounted for by the mere monotony of environmental stimuli.

We go to sleep willingly but not entirely of our own free will. We yield

to sleep.

A consideration of abnormal sleep states will help us considerably in

determining the actual cause of sleep.

Abnormal states always throw a flood of light on normal states of which

they are only an exaggerated variety. The neurosis is the best magnifying

glass through which to watch normal life, provided of course that we

afterward reduce our observations to the proper scale.

The average person sleeps from six to ten hours out of the twenty four,

some time between eight at night and ten in the morning. In abnormal

cases, on the other hand, we see the duration of sleep considerably

prolonged and the onset of sleepiness appearing at times when complete

wakefulness is usually the rule.

The circumstances surrounding those abnormal cases are never pleasant. We

never hear of any one falling asleep while witnessing a very amusing play,

while in the company of a very interesting person or while busy with some

extremely attractive occupation.

One incident from Napoleon's biography will make my meaning clear. During

his days of glory Napoleon never slept more than four or five hours out of

the twenty four. His physical and intellectual activities were prodigious.

He would, at times, ride on horseback for ten hours at a stretch, then

hold conferences with his staff until late into the night, then dictate

innumerable letters. Yet he did not feel tired or sleepy and a few hours

of sleep were sufficient to "relieve his fatigue."

On the other hand, let us remember what happened after the battle of

Aspern, the first he lost after a series of seventeen victories: He fell

asleep after a long, unsuccessful struggle with drowsiness and for

thirty-six hours could not be aroused.

His biographers also mention that when his life dream was shattered at

Waterloo and he was sent into exile on a remote island, he began to sleep

as many hours as the average, normal man.

After Aspern and after Waterloo, reality had become such, that an escape

from it, via the unconsciousness of sleep, must have been welcome. That

the reaction of defeat must have been more keenly felt by the young man

who lost Aspern and who presented strong neurotic traits, than by the more

settled man who lost Waterloo, can be easily understood.

Nansen in his Polar exile slept twenty hours a day. He certainly was not

in need of rest or recuperation, for his idleness was complete, but the

reality of ice and snow which kept him a prisoner, was one from which he

was glad to withdraw his attention.

I personally observed two cases in which sudden fits of sleepiness could

be interpreted as an escape from reality.

A gambler could go for several days and nights without sleep, _provided he

was winning_. After a heavy loss or a period during which his earnings

were offset by his losses, he would go to bed and sleep as much as four

days and four nights at a time, arising once or twice a day to partake of

some food and returning at once to his slumbers.

A neurotic with a strong inferiority complex was overwhelmed by

sleepiness every time he encountered a defeat of a sexual or egotistic

nature. After a quarrel, or whenever a discussion in which he took part

turned to his disadvantage, he had to lie down and "sleep it off."

This is probably the key to the enigma of Casper Hauser's case. He was

born in Germany at the beginning of the last century and brought up in

complete solitude, in a small dark room. At the age of seventeen, he had

never seen men, animals or plants, the sun, moon or stars. He then was

taken out of his cell, and abandoned on the streets of Nuremberg, dazed

and helpless.

All the efforts made by kind Samaritans to develop his mentality proved

futile. They had only one result: to make him fall asleep. Accustomed for

years to the peace, quiet and safety of his cell, he reacted to a new,

troublesome and complicated environment as newly born infants do, who in

incredibly long periods of sleep, in no wise explainable through fatigue,

escape reality and return to the perfect happiness of the fetal state.

In certain forms of the disturbance known as sleeping sickness, people

merge into a sleep which continues for weeks, months or even years, and

which sometimes culminates in death. (In many cases, however, the

sleepiness may be totally lacking.)

The sleeping sickness was first observed some hundred years ago on the

West Coast of Africa and, since then, in an area of the African continent

extending from Senegal to the Congo. Negroes are almost the only

sufferers, although a few whites have been affected by this disease which,

at times, extends to large numbers of the population.

According to various medical observers, the sleeping sickness usually

appears among slaves doing _arduous, exhausting work_.

It is the individuals who stand lowest in intelligence who are most

severely affected. In communities where the mental development has been

retarded, imitation easily spreads the contagion and this is probably the

reason why entire villages are decimated by that curious malady.

Whether the sleeping sickness is in certain cases induced by the bite of a

fly or appears without obvious physical cause is immaterial.[1] Paranoia

induced by syphilis is in no way different from ordinary paranoia.

Hence we are justified in linking together certain aspects of the African

sleeping sickness and the lethargic ailment which affects the white races

in Europe and America.

Both have the appearance of normal sleep, the only striking difference,

barring certain physical syndromes, being the unusual length of the

sleeping period or its onset at unusual and unexpected times.

In white subjects, narcolepsy is seldom fatal but has been known to last

for years.

The most famous case on record is probably that of Karoline Ollson

reported in a Salpétrière publication for 1912.

Karoline Ollson was born in 1861 in a small town of Sweden. At the age of

14, at the onset of her menstruation, she once came home complaining of

toothache, went to bed and remained bedridden till 1908. For thirty-two

years she slept all day and all night, waking up now and then for a few

minutes, taking dim notice of happenings in her environment and speaking a

few words. Two glasses of milk a day seemed to be sufficient to sustain

her. She was kept for a fortnight in a hospital from which she was

discharged when her ailment was diagnosed as "hysteria."

When her mother died in 1905 she woke up and wept as long as the corpse

remained in the house. Then she became quiet again and resumed her

slumbers. In April, 1908, when her menstruation stopped, she woke up, left

her bed and has led a normal life since.

Dr. Toedenström who describes the case states that she looked incredibly

young. Two weeks after she left her bed she had become strong enough to

take charge of the household.

Stekel, discussing this strange case in one of his lectures, said: "This

woman spent the entire time of her womanhood in sleep, for she fell asleep

at the time of her first menstruation period and her awakening coincided

with her climacteric. She was a child and wished to remain a child. The

first question she asked on arising, 'Where is mama?' shows that she was

suffering from psychic infantilism. It is probable that dreams of

childhood filled her thirty-year sleep and she may even have dreamt that

she was still an unborn child for whom life had not yet begun."

Medical literature contains many reports of freakish cases in which the

subject falls asleep suddenly, while attending to duties of an

uninteresting character; a young waiter, for instance, falling asleep

while waiting on a table, remaining absolutely motionless for a whole

minute and then waking up and resuming his work. Manacéine mentions two

similar cases she observed personally. Both patients were illiterate and

of slow intellect. One of them, a housemaid of nineteen, was a sound

sleeper at night and yet, in the day time, one could never be sure of her

remaining awake. She fell asleep once in the act of announcing a visitor

and while bringing in a tray loaded with cups of coffee. The other was a

woman of fifty, who was employed as a nurse until one day, falling asleep

suddenly, she dropped an infant on the floor and almost killed him. In

both the pulse was remarkably slow (a vagotonic symptom): in the girl it

varied from 50 to 70 when awake, in the older woman from 40 to 60.

An epidemic of sleeping fits, lasting only a few minutes at a time, raged

for several years in a small German town near Würzburg. The attacks took

place at any moment and were liable to leave the patient immobilized in

some curious position. It was the weaker part of the population,

physically and mentally, which was affected by that curious trouble,

apparently transmitted from parents to children, probably, as all neurotic

complaints are, through imitation.

Stekel considers hysterical and epileptic fits as forms of morbid sleep

during which hysterics gratify sexual cravings and epileptics sadistic

cravings.

This is how Dr. Isador Abrahamson describes, from recent cases observed at

Mount Sinai Hospital, the course of lethargic encephalitis which is one of

the scientific names coined to designate the sleeping sickness:

"At the onset of the disease, there is a period of variable duration in

which the patient experiences increasing difficulty in attending to his

work. Next a time of yawning ensues, in which there may be also the

_irritability of the overtired_. Then the eyes close, _chiefly from lack

of interest_.... (The patient's) pulse, temperature, and respiration may

all be of a normal character.... From the depth of this seeming slumber,

he may respond immediately when questioned and his _short but coherent

answers_ show _no loss either of memory or of orientation_.... His answer

given, he straightway resumes his seeming sleep.... _His attitude

expresses a desire to be let alone_, a desire which is sometimes

articulate in him.... The somnolence may deepen into a stupor from which

the patient is not easily aroused to conscious repose.... In the night

watches ... a restless delirium of inconstant severity often appears.

Spontaneous movements and sounds are made. The movements are purposeful

graspings and pointings at unseen things, tossings and turnings...."

The author adds in another part of his article that "The depth of the

somnolence and also its duration are unrelated to the severity of the

cerebral lesions.... _The extent of the mental disturbance bears no

correspondence to the extent of the lesions_, the amount of fever or the

blood picture...." [Italics mine.]

We have a perfect picture of a flight from reality into a somnolence into

which the unconscious complexes force at times a terrifying presentation

of the dreaded reality through nightmares.

The few cases of sleeping sickness reported in recent medical literature

show a decided neurotic trend in the subjects affected and reveal

circumstances in the patient's life which would make a flight from reality

highly desirable.

One typical case reported to me by a Boston physician who personally

considers the sleeping sickness as being "unquestionably an acute organic

disease of the cerebro-spinal system" has all the earmarks of a neurotic

affection:

"The patient, a middle aged woman lost a child she loved dearly one year

and a half before the onset of the disease. The circumstances of the

child's death were particularly sad as the mother was not allowed to visit

the little sufferer at the hospital on account of the contagious character

of his disease. She also felt disturbing doubts as to the competence of

the first physician who attended her child.

"She had been 'nervous and run down' since the child's death. She is

married to a cripple twenty years her senior. She had to go to work in

order to help support the household and to live with relatives of her

husband's who did not contribute to the pleasantness of her home life."

Have we not here all the environmental conditions which would drive a

neurotic to withdraw his attention from reality through a protracted

period of sleep?

From the fact that I have instituted a comparison between sleep and the

sleeping sickness, the reader should not draw the conclusion that I

attribute to sleep any neurotic character.

Sleep is a compromise, as I shall show later, when discussing dream life,

between what the human animal was meant to do and what it can do in

reality.

The neurosis, also is a compromise, but it is a compromise that fails,

while sleep is a compromise which is successful, beneficial and acceptable

to all.

Psychoanalysis, Sleep and Dreams · 第 3 / 17 章