exciting episodes has fallen a victim to depression, during which she
lost a great deal of weight, but in spite of a successful fattening
régime her stay at a sanitarium did not effect a complete cure. She is
an impressively attractive girl, 24 years of age, voluptuous, feminine
in every way up to her angular, somewhat energetic nose and prominent,
curved eyebrows. Her mother, of whom the girl speaks with much feeling,
believes that the girl’s breakdown dates from the death of the father.
Ilse irritatedly contradicts the mother several times, breaking into a
quarrelsome attitude towards her mother over trifles. Reprimanded by her
mother, she falls into her depression and speaks no word. I take her
under treatment and for a week I have in her a heavy burden on my hands.
She hardly says anything, is very negativistic in her attitude, only
muttering from time to time: “Don’t trouble yourself. It will never be
any different. Better give me something that will put me quickly out of
the way.” She livens up somewhat only when referring to her
father,—thinks he should have not passed away. The mother should have
called in a specialist. In fact, it was as much her fault as anybody’s,
for she had failed to insist on calling the best aid while there was
time.
Gradually she extends me her confidence and one day she appears,—like a
changed person. She must tell me the truth. She is not a normal person.
Since childhood she has been homosexual and had never cared for men. Her
mother had implied as much when she said to me: “I cannot understand the
girl. She always fled from the room when young men called on Alfred (her
brother). The girl is a man hater.” This fact the girl had denied during
the first visit, but now she herself admitted. She had never cared for
men. On the other hand, at 11 years of age she had already fallen
passionately in love with a woman school teacher. She was a frolicsome
girl, often wore her brother’s clothes, and played with all the young
boys of the neighborhood. At 14 years of age she again fell in love with
a girl friend.
Her current depression is due to a terrible disappointment. She had
maintained a love affair with a French woman and was happy. She said
nothing about the character of the relations, but admitted that they
were very intimate. Suddenly she found out that the French woman was not
true to her, but was keeping up intimate relations more often with other
girls than with her. She suffered tremendously on account of her
jealousy. She began to feel a disgust against all women not unlike her
former aversion to men. Asked why she was so antagonistic to men, she
answered: “Because they are, all, without exception, disgusting
brutes....”
At this point Ilse begins to relate her past experiences. She was seven
years of age when she visited an uncle. He showed her his big _membrum
virile_ and asked her to hold it in her hand. She did this as well as
other things he requested her _usque et ejaculationem_. “How shall I
have any respect for men when they don’t hesitate thus to poison the
innocent soul of a child?” The uncle is still living.... She has since
thought that it must be some morbid tendency and has forgiven him. “It
happened only a few times and the uncle believes I have forgotten
it....”
Another traumatic incident impressed her more seriously; it was, in
fact, a series of traumas. Her mother was a light-minded person and is
so to this day, despite her 50 years. But she knows enough to dress
herself so attractively and with such a display of refinement that she
is still capable of achieving conquests. There follow a number of
serious complaints against the mother, which must have been true, for I
have had opportunity to convince myself of the truth of some of the
statements. The mother always kept on the string a number of lovers who
gratified her extravagant requirements. As a child she had been taken
along to a number of rendezvous and has repeatedly witnessed the display
of tendernesses between the lovers. She also recalled various household
scenes from her early childhood. As a child she was already very
sensuous and masturbated jointly with the sister and the brother. She
was precocious as well as prematurely spoiled and every one thought she
would early turn out to be like her mother. Then her sister underwent a
great change in character. She became religious and wanted to join a
nunnery. She made fun of her religious-minded sister but secretly
admired her for her chastity. She was 14 years of age at the time. She
now knows that she was in love with the family physician and that she
was interested in men, but at the same time she was in love at different
times with various teachers and girl friends. When her sister was 16
years of age she had a love affair with an army lieutenant and had to go
to a sanitarium to be curetted, fever set in after the operation, and
for several weeks the girl was seriously ill.
Her sister’s experience shook her to pieces. Inwardly she had been proud
that there was such a pure, innocent girl in the family. Now that her
sister followed the example of her mother it seemed to her that she,
too, was fated to follow in the same path and that there could be no
escape for her. During that period her character underwent a change and
she acquired a tremendous dislike for all small children. She could not
suffer to see a small child. She thought to herself, if she were its
mother she would strangle it. The feeling was so horrible that she could
not sleep. In time she improved somewhat, but the dislike of children
or, rather, the fear of them, that is, the fear that she might do some
harm to them, never left her.
I suspected that back of this feeling-attitude towards the children
might be found the solution of her problem. I reverted back to her
sixteenth year, for it was at that period that she turned definitely
against all men.
“Why do you hate children?”
“Not that, exactly.... In fact, I was at one time foolish over them. I
have always wanted children. When I told you that I always played boyish
games it was not exactly the truth. I remember now that I played nurse
to my doll and that we often played the game of childbirth. Brother was
the doctor and I was the pregnant lady in bed.”
“Did you happen to witness childbirth as a little girl?”
“Yes, everything.... Our aunt gave birth to a child in our home,—a
romantic story. An illegitimate child; her parents were not to know
anything about the birth, or they would have disowned her. But we
children knew everything. Afterwards she married the man but was very
unhappy with him. The little baby was with us for a time. I was very
fond of it and carried it around....”
“Have you other such aunts in the family?”
“Between us: mother’s family has a poor reputation. There were six
sisters, each more flighty than the next. None was a virgin at marriage.
Things were always happening and there was never any peace. That is why
I was so shocked over sister’s experience. I was getting to think it was
my fate also to become ... merely a prostitute. You will pardon me for
speaking so harshly about my own mother. But unfortunately it is the
truth....”
“A prostitute is purchasable.... There is some difference whether one is
light-minded through passion or for gain.”
(After a lengthy pause.) “Just what I did find out at the time. Mother
was to be had for money. Father was a humble employee, an unsuccessful
jurist, who eked out a living doing secretarial service for an attorney.
He could not keep up with the large household expenses even though he
occasionally transacted a business deal on the side which netted him a
considerable sum. Mother always had a friend who took care of our needs.
Thus we were brought up rather well educated, my brother could afford to
study, we did everything.”
“Did you know all that already as a child?”
“I knew it at a very early age....”
“You think, then, that your sister was also paid and that she sold
herself?”
“No, nothing like that. In addition to the paying lover mother always
had one, a purely heart affair, on the side. It was funny! The men
always brought us candies and all sorts of presents. When we grew older
mother became a little more careful. Still, there was enough going on to
bring shame as I look back. And so there came into our house also a
young lieutenant whom mother had picked up—God knows where. This fellow
was mother’s avowed lover and could do as he pleased. The terrible thing
was that he began to pursue also sister and after a few jealousy
quarrels mother had to put up with it,—she perhaps even encouraged the
affair. For I overheard once a talk between them and heard mother
reproach ‘Shikki,’—that was the lieutenant’s nickname,—that he had used
sister. She could have obtained a large sum of money for the girl
because she was a virgin and the girl would have been provided for. Then
there followed bitter quarrels between mother and sister.”
I interrupt the conversation at this point. It turns out that she, too,
was in love with the lieutenant, and so were the others of the
household, including the father and the brother; she was also jealous of
her mother. Her jealousy opened her eyes. That is how it happened that
she heard the unpleasant rumors about her mother circulating among the
neighbors. She began hating her mother, but that continued only for a
short time. Then her hatred turned to children. She hated first herself,
the child who bore no respect for the mother. She did not want to be
like her mother and her sister. She knew that she would have to submit
to similar experiences; that her fate was sealed. She strove against her
feminine and motherly instincts. But the analysis disclosed that she
really entertained one supreme wish which she was unwilling to
countenance openly: she wanted to be a mother and to bear many, many
children. But the neurotic reaction thwarted her powerful motherly
instinct. To be a mother meant identification with the despised mother.
Her better feelings prompted her to draw herself far apart from the
mother.
She did not want to be a woman. She did not want to be so easy-going as
her mother. At that time her brother also showed a temperamental change.
He became serious-minded, began to write verses, and to take an interest
in all sorts of idealistic endeavors. She linked herself to him and
before long she differentiated herself completely from the rest of the
household, and particularly from the mother. She sought earnest-minded
girl friends and came into frequent contact with her brother’s
companions, but was unapproachable, even though she expressed herself
freely and frankly about all subjects. Her strongly sensuous temperament
threw her next into the arms of the Frenchwoman and she preferred that
to a love affair with a man as she was afraid of children. After the
Frenchwoman’s breach of loyalty she fell into her depression.
This circumstance also disclosed an interesting sidelight. She confessed
to me that the Frenchwoman was also her brother’s sweetheart. It had
never been mentioned by the woman but she knew it even before she
entered into intimate relations with her. Nevertheless it was her
happiest period.
The depression is thus traceable to a second source. The brother had
abandoned the Frenchwoman, having chosen another sweetheart, of whom he
was very fond and whom he intended to marry. The Frenchwoman was only a
sensuous play affair with him, the brother belonged wholly to her. They
were always together and she knew all his secrets. She was never jealous
when she knew that he kept up relations with some girl or woman so long
as he did not love soulfully. But now the brother became acquainted with
a wealthy, beautiful girl, with whom he fell in love and whom he was
going actually to marry. This, for the brother, lucky event,—came to
nothing in the end on account of the opposition of the girl’s
family,—left her cool. All she saw was that she was losing her brother,
and that he no longer belonged to her. He could not marry the girl
because her parents required that he should first prove his ability to
support her. But the two lovers agreed to wait for one another and the
brother had gone already pretty far and he may yet succeed to marry the
girl, despite the mother’s deplorable reputation. He lives no longer
with his family and avoids the old home. He only sees her from time to
time and they are still good old pals, whenever they meet....
This interesting analysis illustrates all the chief points to be found
in the psychogenesis of male homosexuality. In fact the girl was on the
point of becoming as fond of men as her mother, perhaps of indulging in
bisexual activities. Her sister’s experience opened her eyes and acted
as a terrible warning. The yearning for purity which animates every soul
and is the polar counterpart of the desire for tasting every sort of
experience, became uppermost in her case, the fear of becoming like the
sister, or like the mother, and her hatred of the mother, jointly, had
the effect of shaping her into a different being. She probably would
have not yielded to the homosexual love of the Frenchwoman had she not
been overcome by the fact that the woman was her brother’s sweetheart.
It was a case of incest through a third person.... She hated her mother
and had to protect herself against the danger of having children who
grow up to be one’s enemies. Thus children became her enemies. The
father played a negligible rôle in her life and had no influence on the
development of her homosexuality.
I do not know well her subsequent history. Her depression was soon
relieved and her hatred of children disappeared entirely. But she left
Vienna and went to another country, obviously to get away from her
family and to forget her whole past. I had advised her to do so and the
fact that she had followed my advice permits us to hope that, after the
tempestuous course of her past life, she may have succeeded, at last, in
finding a friendlier harbor.
III
HOMOSEXUALITY AND JEALOUSY—MASKED JEALOUSY—THE JEALOUS WIFE OF A
PHYSICIAN—WHY WOMEN ABUSE SERVANT GIRLS—TRANSFERENCE OF JEALOUSY
TO THE SURROUNDINGS—JEALOUSY OF THE FATHER—JEALOUSY OF THE
RESIDENCE—JEALOUSY OF THE PAST—A YOUNG WOMAN OVERSENSITIVE TO ANY
NOISES.
_In der Eifersucht liegt mehr Eigenliebe als Liebe._
—_Rochefoucauld._
III
_Jealousy involves self-love rather than love._
—_Rochefoucauld._
Jealousy is the projection of one’s own insufficiencies to the
surroundings.[14] It is an atavistic awakening of the brutal sense of
self such as was common to the primordial man protecting his
possessions. All children are jealous. Jealousy leads us back to the
sources of man’s instinctive life.
It is not my intention to take up the whole subject of jealousy. But
morbid jealousy shows certain definite, almost regular, relations to
homosexuality which we must consider. We have seen that homosexuality
may be hidden from consciousness. That is also true of jealousy. I have
seen many neurotics who have suffered tremendously on account of their
jealousy, without being aware of it. In the masking of neurosis jealousy
assumes most remarkable forms.
The next case illustrates the masking of jealousy, its fusion with
homosexuality, and contains various points of psychologic interest:
70. A highly intelligent subject, H. J., writes me: “Have you already
reflected on how we discern certain similarities on certain days and
fail to do so at other times? You are undoubtedly aware that neurotics
and normal persons are fond of finding resemblances when they formulate
identifications. The lover finds that the beloved walks like mother, or
that she talks like the latter, and if physically no resemblance can be
established he finds the same mental characteristics, the same soul,
perhaps the same shortcomings. But I want to speak of an entirely
different peculiarity. One forenoon I see a man, who looked enough like
my friend, X, the painter, to be taken for the latter. I walk up to him
and say: Hello, X,—still under the impression of that mistake. A strange
face wearing a beard of familiar form is staring at me. I offer the
usual apologetic explanation and go my way. After a while I see again my
friend X, this time somewhat dimly, not quite so certain of it as
before. I recover from this illusion quickly enough.
“By that time my psychologic curiosity is roused and it occurs to me
that my wife told me that morning she was going to visit the painter, X,
during the forenoon. I listened indifferently to the statement, merely
asking her to give him my greetings. But a certain unrest must have
risen in the unconscious: your wife goes to the painter who likes her
and makes love to her. Nothing of that in consciousness at all. Painters
are a light-minded class who do not take such things seriously. Who
knows whether your wife will be strong enough to resist?
“These secret fears led to a symptomatic act. I accosted a stranger as
X, the painter. In other words,—a wish fulfilment. For if I meet X on
the street he cannot possibly be in his studio at this time. My wish is
that he shall not be at home. My wife shall go to the studio and find:
Mr. X is not in.... That wish came up on three different occasions that
morning. For I thought I saw Mr. X in the street three different times.
Moreover, I project X upon strange faces. Because I think constantly of
X, because my mind is wholly preoccupied with him, because I am innerly
preoccupied with the uncountenanced thought: what does X now do with
your wife?—I see X everywhere. _Ringstrasse_ is filled with men looking
like him; every man is a Mr. X.
“The illusion at this juncture denotes also another suspicion. An
additional thought renders the first one pregnant with significance.
Yesterday I heard the opinion expressed at a gathering, ‘Any woman may
be had and there is no such thing as a virtuous woman!’ I opposed
vehemently that cynical thought (_Pauschalverdächtigung_) and I tried to
the best of my ability to point out the ridiculous and unfair
implications of this notion. And today I am surprised to find myself
entertaining the thought. These men who look like X, the great unknown,
are alike attractive and powerful men, just like X. You are reflecting:
Who knows whether this or that man is not actually your wife’s lover?
Why do the words from Faust come into my mind: ‘_The whole town has
her’?_... In justice to my wife’s honor I must now state that she is in
fact an exemplary woman and that I entertain no trace of suspicion about
her conduct. But I am deliberately looking for excuses to vindicate
myself. I mean to believe that every woman is guilty, including
therefore my own wife, so as to justify in my eyes my new love
affairs.... I am envious of X, of his free ways with women, and would
like to be in his place, receiving ladies in the studio. I would like to
be X. In my phantasy I am X, and see myself as X in every stranger.
“A lady of my acquaintance always saw her deceased husband on the street
in the person of some stranger who seemed closely to resemble him. This
peculiar resemblance to strangers was noticeable particularly when her
mind turned to light and frivolous thoughts. As if the image of the
husband came forward to warn and protect her: ‘It is only three years
since I have passed away and already you begin to turn your mind to
trivial joys? Beware. I watch you from Heaven and I see everything you
do.’”
We admit freely that our subject is a keen-minded psychologist
possessing an extraordinary capacity for introspection, yet this
excellent piece of self-analysis seemed to me to overlook something
important. I therefore write Mr. H. J. that I should like to talk this
interesting episode over with him and I invite him to call on me. He
accepts the invitation. From our conversation I report only some of the
more important points:
“Has it not struck you that the men who impressed you as bearing
resemblance were exclusively attractive and powerful men?”
“No, because my friend, X, the painter, is also an attractive and well
built man. Others would not look like him....”
“Are you also otherwise jealous?”
“No; not in the least; only about X,—and even that I did not know or was
perhaps too proud to admit to myself.”
“What is your attitude towards X? Do you care for him also as you
do...?”
“... For my wife, you mean? I do. I love him. He is a charming fellow.”
“Is it not strange that you should be jealous precisely of the one man
whom you also like so well?”
He reflects a while and finds no answer. I explain to him that it shows
a repressed homosexual disposition towards his friend. The trend of his
unconscious thought is: “_If I were a woman I could not withstand him._”
Perhaps the thought goes even further than that: “_Too bad I am not a
woman for then I would enjoy that beautiful man_....”
He sees at once the relationship between his jealousy and the
unrecognized inner homosexual disposition. He relates that this man is
the only friend whom he greets with a kiss after a prolonged absence,
that he likes to take him by the arm and to hold his hand.
In short, he himself is in love with his friend. He sees his friend
everywhere and the slightest resemblances impress themselves strongly on
his mind. They are emanations from his one thought: _I like him and I
wish I were a woman to yield to him._
It is very tempting to try to trace the various paths of unconscious
jealousy. But that would lead us too far off our present theme. As we
are confronted with a very complicated condition which may have the most
varied roots I propose to give a few clinical illustrations from my own
practice and to discuss the various forms of jealousy on the basis of
these data.
71. The first case of jealousy which I had occasion to observe was that
of a physician’s wife. The woman, 45 years of age, relates: “Perhaps you
can free me from a painful condition which embitters my whole life and
turns my marriage into a veritable hell. I have been married already 22
years and can assert that I have not yet had a happy day except when my
husband is all day alone with me and we have no occasion to come into
contact with another female person. He is a physician and already during
our engagement I was jealous of all his women patients. I did not know
this awful trait in myself before. At any rate it was not so pronounced
or I should have not married my husband. At first I was jealous of my
immediate acquaintances and friends, particularly of the very pretty
women among them. After marriage my condition grew worse and worse.
During the consultation hours I watched behind the door and shivered
with actual nervous chills in my excitement. My husband was a woman
specialist and a very popular woman specialist at that. I implored him
to abandon that specialty and to take up any other. I admit that the
fact of his being a woman specialist had at first excited my interest in
him and had a great deal to do with my choice of the man. I thought to
myself: the man sees so many beautiful women, he sees them naked, and
yet has chosen you,—the thought flattered me immensely. That was well
enough at first, but later the feeling of jealousy grew in its stead.
“I had a very pretty woman friend who was taking treatment from my
husband. What I endured during her visits is beyond my powers to
describe. I said to myself: ‘She is now taking off her blouse and now
her petticoat. He is now examining, looking at her bosom, and now she
lifts herself upon the examination table, she stretches her limbs
apart....’ I suffered hellish torments. I was convinced that my husband
could not withstand this woman’s charms and would kiss her. I had a
serious quarrel with him; I quarreled with my friend, who turned from me
with indignation. Our marriage relations grew worse on that account. I
tortured my husband so that he had to allow me to watch through a
carefully hidden peep-hole what was going on in the consultation room.
In that manner I convinced myself that my husband was physically true to
me. But even though he swore a thousand times that the women did not
excite him in the least I could not believe him. I stuck to one thing
which I harped on daily: ‘_Give up your specialty._’ Years thus passed
in quarrels and dispute. I have now a married daughter of my own and I
thought to myself that with advancing age my condition would change. But
not at all! It grows worse and I transfer now my jealousy also to my
son-in-law, I am jealous for my daughter. Fortunately, she has no real
reason to feel jealous and laughs at me....
“I am also jealous of my daughter. I would like to preserve her love for
myself only and I begrudge her husband. Although she made an excellent
match, I was not satisfied and treated my son-in-law very unfairly. I
was unhappy over it but could not help it. I have consulted already the
most famous specialists, have been for six weeks under hypnotic
treatment by Prof. X. I have already kept away from my husband for three
months at a stretch,—nothing has helped.”
That is the sufferer’s history. What is the meaning of this jealousy?