Once when traveling I made the acquaintance of a naturalist who not long
before had completed a famous exploring expedition in distant countries.
During this expedition he had been almost constantly in peril of his life.
Almost every night he had had to stay awake and watch so as not to be set
upon and killed. He had been back in England a short time and had
completely recovered from the privations and sufferings he had experienced,
but he suffered desperately from insomnia. On his return he had slept well,
but a month before his sleep had suddenly begun to be disturbed.
Knowing me to be a neurologist, he asked my advice. I inquired about the
patient's former life, but discovered that my traveling companion was little
inclined to be communicative in this direction, in fact he was strikingly
reticent. To my inquiry about the immediate origin of the insomnia, he told
me it was immediately connected with a miserable dream which he had dreamt a
month past, and from which he had awakened in terrible anxiety. I asked him
to tell me this dream and gave him hope that perhaps the analysis of this
might succeed in laying bare the cause of the insomnia. The substance of the
dream was as follows:
"I was in a narrow gorge, formed by almost perpendicular walls of rock. This
made me think of a similar narrow gorge which, during my journey, I had
passed through at peril of my life. Upon a jutting rock a hundred yards
high above the abyss, I saw a man and woman standing, shoulder to shoulder,
both covering their eyes with their hands. They step forward and I see them
plunge downwards together, and hear their bodies falling to destruction.
Screaming wildly I awoke. Since that time I dare not let myself sleep for
fear of the repetition of this dream.
The patient, accustomed to deadly peril on his long expedition, could not
explain to himself the anxiety caused by this dream. I called Mr. X's
attention to the fact that in my opinion an erotic conflict was concealed in
the dream, and asked him point blank whether he had taken part in a love
story. At this the patient grew deadly pale, struck the table with his fist
and said "That you should have guessed it!" Now the confession followed, how
he had had a love affair in which he had not cut a good figure and which
ruined a woman's life, and that afterwards he had been violently remorseful
and had lived with the idea of suicide. Then he had seized upon the
opportunity offered him to lead a dangerous expedition. He wanted to die and
here he would not find death ingloriously.
It is clear that the two people upon the rocks above symbolized the two, who
went to meet destruction.
Soon afterwards the travelers parted. A year later the newspapers contained
the report of the marriage of the famous explorer. The surmise is allowable
that the analysis of this dream was the cause of this fortunate solution.
As I have already pointed out, the original cathartic method of Breuer and
Freud, explained to some extent, is still followed by some investigators, by
Muthman, Bezzola, Frank and many others. I had the opportunity in June and
July, 1912, of observing for some time the treatment of patients by Dr.
Frank in Zurich at his private clinic, and of gaining for myself a
satisfactory idea of his technique. Frank by no means rejects the Freudian
psychoanalysis with all its helps, but uses it only when he does not succeed
in hypnotizing his patient. Preferably, and in a great number of cases, he
uses, in a state of hypnotism, a cathartic method he originated.
Where Breuer and Freud profited from the spontaneous or the provoked
somnabulistic state of the patient, and by questioning dug up the hidden
depths, Frank decided to be satisfied with a light hypnose, a state of
hypotaxie, which might be termed analogous to the half-conscious state of
the person who after taking a mid-day nap frequently denies having been
asleep. In this condition we can give an account on waking of what happened
around us. One sleeps and one does not sleep; the upper-consciousness then
can control what the sub-consciousness brings up.
Frank says that, except in the peculiarity that he is satisfied with a
lighter degree of hypnose, his method differs from that of Breuer and Freud
in that generally he does not question the patient when under hypnotism,
neither suggests. Experience has taught him, he says, that the ideas loaded
with affect, spontaneously discharge. They are the very ones which would do
so in a dream, but are differentiated from the occurrences in the dream in
the sense that these last enter phantastically dressed, while the first
express themselves with the mental affects belonging to them, precisely as
they were lived through.
Precisely as in the primitive-cathartic method, the affects pushing in here
are disemburdened here, but at the same time, the connection between the
existent sick-phenomena and the causes having a place here were
automatically conscious to the patient. In some cases suggestion is called
upon for help in order to free an affect or to direct the attention to the
expected scene.
In most cases the process goes on itself, after the introduction of
hypnosis. If the sleep is too deep, then the ideas are transferred into real
dreams, which the patient immediately recognizes as such, or the production
of scenes discontinues; the superconsciousness no longer works.
The scenes described are usually recalled by the patients, just as they were
experienced by them, even when taken from the earliest youth. The reality
of the events which happened in childhood, lived over again in hypnose, are
substantiated as much as possible by the patient's parents or associates. He
succeeds best in inducing this semi-sleep by exhorting the patient as he
closes his eyes not to bother about whether he sleeps or not, but to fasten
his attention upon the scenes which are about to present themselves; that
is, to think himself, so to speak, into the state of someone at a moving
picture show.