THE LOGIC OF DREAMS
All Dreaming is a Process of Reasoning--The Fundamental
Character of Reasoning--Reasoning as a Synthesis of
Images--Dream Reasoning Instinctive and Automatic--It is also
Consciously carried on--This a result of the Fundamental Split
in Intelligence--Dissociation--Dreaming as a Disturbance of
Apperception.
In dreams we are always reasoning. That is a general characteristic of
dreams which is worth noting, because its significance is not usually
recognised. It is sometimes imagined that reason is in abeyance during
sleep.[42] So far from this being the case, we may almost be said to
reason much more during sleep than when we are awake. That our reasoning
is bad, often even preposterous, that it constantly ignores the most
elementary facts of waking life, scarcely affects the question. All
dreaming is a process of reasoning. That artful confusion of ideas and
images which, at the outset, I referred to as the most constant feature
of dream mechanism is nothing but a process of reasoning, a perpetual
effort to argue out harmoniously the absurdly limited and incongruous
data present to sleeping consciousness. Binet, grounding his conclusions
on hypnotic experiments, finds that reasoning is the fundamental part of
all thinking, the very texture of thought.[43] It is founded on perception
itself, which already contains all the elements of the ancient syllogism.
For in all perception, as Binet plausibly argues, there is a succession
of three images, of which the first fuses with the second, which, in its
turn, suggests the third. Now this establishment of new associations, this
construction of images, which, as we may easily convince ourselves, is
precisely what takes place in dreaming, is reasoning itself.
Reasoning may thus be regarded as a synthesis of images suggested by
resemblance and contiguity, indeed a sort of logical vision, more intense
even than actual vision, since it is capable of producing hallucinations.
To reasoning all forms of mental activity may finally be reduced; mind, as
Wundt has said, is a thing that reasons. Or, as H. R. Marshall puts it,
'reason is a mode of instinct.'[44] When we apply these general statements
to dreaming, we may see that the whole phenomenon of dreaming is really
the same process of image formation, based on resemblance and contiguity.
Every dream is the outcome of this strenuous, wide-ranging instinct to
reason. The supposed 'imaginative faculty,' regarded as so highly active
during sleep, is the inevitable play of this automatic logic.
The syllogistic arrangement of dream imagery is carried on in an
absolutely automatic manner; it is spontaneous, involuntary, without
effort. Sleeping consciousness, though all the time it is weaving the data
that reach it into some pattern of reason with immense ingenuity, is quite
unaware that it is itself responsible for the arguments thus presented. In
the evening, before going to bed, I glance casually through a newspaper;
I see the usual kind of news, revolutionists in Russia, Irish affairs,
crimes, etc.; I see also a caricature of the Liberal Party as a headless
horseman on a barren plain. During sleep these unconnected impressions
revive, float into dream consciousness, and spontaneously fall into as
reasonable a whole as could be expected. I dream that by some chemical or
mechanical device a man has succeeded in conveying the impression that he
is headless, and is preparing to gallop across some district in Russia,
with the idea of making so mysterious an impression upon the credulous
population that he will be accepted as a great religious prophet. I
distinctly see him careering across sands like those of the seashore,
but I avoid going near him. Then I see figures approaching him in the
far distance, and his progress ceases. I learn subsequently that he has
been arrested and found to be an Irish criminal. A coherent story is thus
formed out of a few random impressions.
All such typical dreams are syllogistic. There is, that is to say, as
Binet expresses it, the establishment of an association between two states
of consciousness by means of an intermediate state which resembles
the first, is associated with the second, and by fusing with the first
associates it with the second. In this dream, for instance, we have the
three terms of (1) headless horseman, (2) revolutionary crime, and (3)
Russia and Ireland. The intermediate term, by the fact that it resembles
the first, and is contiguous in the mind with the third, seems to fuse the
first and the third terms, so that the headless horseman becomes an Irish
criminal in Russia. In dreaming life, as in waking life, our minds are
always moving by the construction of similar syllogisms, marked by more or
less freedom and audacity.
It is unnecessary to multiply examples of the instinctive and persistent
efforts on the part of the sleeping mind to construct a coherent whole
out of the incongruous elements that come before it; nearly every
dream furnishes some proof of this profoundly rooted impulse.[45] It
is instructive, however, to consider the nature and the limitations of
dreaming reason.
This rationalisation and logical construction of imagery, it is necessary
to realise, occurs at the very threshold of sleeping consciousness. The
dreamer makes no effort to arrange isolated imagery; the arrangement
has already occurred when the imagery comes to the focus of sleeping
consciousness; so that this reasoning and arranging process is so
fundamental and instinctive that it occurs in a region which may be said
to be subconscious to dreaming consciousness. If it were not so our dreams
would never be real to us, for even dreaming consciousness could not
accept as real a hallucination which it had itself arranged. In this sense
it is true that, to some extent, our dreams are often based on an ultimate
personal and emotional foundation.[46]
But this ingeniously guided and rationalised confusion of imagery by no
means covers the whole of the reasoning process in dreams. This is a
double process. It is first manifested subconsciously in the formation
of dream imagery, and then it is manifested consciously in the dreamer's
reaction to the imagery presented to him. Every dream is made up of action
and reaction between a pseudo-universe and a freely responding individual.
On the one side there is the irresistibly imposed imagery--really,
though we know it not, conditioned and instinctively moulded by our own
organism--which stands for what in our waking hours we may term God and
Nature; on the other side is the Soul struggling with all its might,
and very inefficient means, against the awful powers that oppose it.
The problem of the waking world is presented over again in this battle
between the dreaming protagonist and his dreamed fate. Both of these
elements are instinctively reasoned out, consciously or subconsciously;
both are imperfect fragments from the rich reservoir of human personality.
The things that happen to us in dreams, the pseudo-external world that is
presented to sleeping consciousness--the imagery, that is, that floats
before the mental eye of sleep--are a perpetual source of astonishment
and argument to the dreamer. A large part of dreaming activity is
concerned with the attempt to explain and reason out the phenomena we thus
encounter, to construct a theory of them, or to determine the attitude
which we ought to take up with regard to them. Most dreams will furnish
evidence of this reasoning process.
Thus a lady dreamed that an acquaintance wished to send a small sum of
money to a person in Ireland. She rashly offered to take it over to
Ireland. On arriving home she began to repent of her promise, as the
weather was extremely wild and cold. She proceeded, however, to make
preparations for dressing warmly, and went to consult an Irish friend, who
said she would have to be floated over to Ireland tightly jammed in a crab
basket. On returning home she fully discussed the matter with her husband,
who thought it would be folly to undertake such a journey, and she finally
relinquished it, with great relief. In this dream--the elements of which
could all be accounted for--the association between sending money and
the post-office, which would at once occur to waking consciousness, was
closed; consciousness was a prey to such suggestions as reached it,
but on the basis of those suggestions it reasoned and concluded quite
sagaciously.
Again (after looking at photographs of paintings and statuary, and also
reading about the theatre), I dreamed that I was at the theatre, and that
the performers were acting and dancing in a more or less, in some cases
completely, nude state, but with admirable propriety and grace, and very
charming effect. At first I was extremely surprised at so remarkable an
innovation; but then I reflected that the beginnings of such a movement
must have long been in progress on the stage unknown to me; and I
proceeded to rehearse the reasons which made such a movement desirable.
On another occasion, I dreamed that I was in the large _plaza_ of a
Spanish city (Pamplona possibly furnishing the elements of the picture),
and that the governor emerged from his residence facing the square and
began talking in English to the subordinate officials who were waiting
to receive him. The real reason why he talked English was, of course,
the simple one that he spoke the language native to the dreamer. But in
my dream I was extremely puzzled why he should speak English. I looked
carefully into his face to assure myself that he was not really English,
and I finally concluded that he was speaking English in order not to be
understood by the bystanders. Once more, I dreamed that I was looking at
an architectural drawing of a steeple, of quite original design, somewhat
in the shape of a cross, but very elongated. I attempted in my dream
to account for this elongation, and concluded that it was intended to
neutralise the foreshortening caused when the steeple would be looked at
from below.
There is, we here see afresh, a fundamental split in dreaming
intelligence. On the one side there is the subconscious, yet often highly
intelligent, combination of imagery along rational although often bizarre
lines. On the other side is concentrated the conscious intelligence of
the dreamer, struggling to comprehend and explain the problems offered by
the pseudo-external imagery thus presented to it. One might almost say
that in dreams subconscious intelligence is playing a game with conscious
intelligence. In a dream previously narrated (p. 43) subconscious
intelligence offered to my dreaming consciousness the mysterious substance
_selvdrolla_, and bid me guess what it was; I could not guess. And
subconscious intelligence presented the drawing of the elongated steeple,
and I was able to offer an explanation which seems fairly satisfactory.
So that, in the world of dreams, it may be said, we see over again the
process which, James Hinton was accustomed to say, we see in the universe
of our waking life; God or Nature playing with man, compelling him to
join in a game of hide-and-seek, and setting him problems which he must
solve as best he can. It may well be, one may add, that the dream process
furnishes the key to the metaphysical and even, indeed, the physical
problems of our waking thoughts, and that the puzzles of the universe are
questions that we ourselves unconsciously invent for ourselves to solve.
We can never go behind the fantastic universe of our dreams. The validity
of that universe is for dreaming consciousness unassailable. We may try
to understand it and explain it, but we can never deny it, any more than
we can deny the universe of our waking life, however we may attempt to
analyse it. Dreaming consciousness never realises that the universe
that confronts it springs from the same source as itself springs. I
dreamed that a man was looking at his own house from a distance, and
on the balcony he saw his daughter and a man by her side. 'Who is that
man flirting with my daughter?' he asked. He produced a field-glass,
and, on looking through it, he exclaimed: 'Good Heavens, it's myself!'
Dreaming consciousness accepted this situation with perfect equanimity and
solemnity. In the dream world there is, indeed, nothing else to do. We may
puzzle over the facts presented to us; we may try to explain them; but it
would be futile to deny them, even when they involve the possibility of a
man being in two places at the same time.[47]
Only to a few people there comes occasionally in dreams a dim realisation
of the unreality of the experience: 'After all, it does not matter,'
they are able to say to themselves with more or less conviction, 'this is
only a dream.' Thus one lady, dreaming that she is trying to kill three
large snakes by stamping on them, wonders, while still dreaming, what it
signifies to dream of snakes,[48] and another lady, when she dreams that
she is in any unpleasant position--about to be shot, for instance--often
says to herself: 'Never mind, I shall wake before it happens.'
I have never detected in my own dreams any recognition that they are
dreams. I may say, indeed, that I do not consider that such a thing is
really possible, though it has been borne witness to by many philosophers
and others from Aristotle and Synesius and Gassendi onwards. The
phenomenon occurs; the person who says to himself that he is dreaming
believes that he is still dreaming, but one may be permitted to doubt
that he is. It seems far more probable that he has for a moment, without
realising it, emerged at the waking surface of consciousness.[49] The
only approach to a recognition of dreaming as dreaming that I have
experienced, is connected with the reduplication that may sometimes
occur, and the sense of a fatalistic predetermination. Thus I dreamed
(with nothing that could suggest the dream) that I was one of a group of
people who, as I realised, were carrying out a drama in which by force of
circumstance I was destined to be the villain, having, by bad treatment,
been driven to revenge. I knew at the outset how events would turn out,
and yet, though it seemed real life, I felt vaguely that it was all a play
that was merely being rehearsed. I had attained in the world of dreams to
the Shakespearian feeling that it was all a stage, and I merely a player.
So we may become the Prosperos of the life of dreams.[50]
This quality of dreaming consciousness is a manifestation, and the chief
one, of what is called _dissociation_.[51] In dissociation we have a
phenomenon which runs through the whole of the dreaming life, and is
scarcely less fundamental than the process of fusion by which the imagery
is built up. The fact that the reasoning of dreams is usually bad, is due
partly to the absence of memory elements that would be present to waking
consciousness, and partly to the absence of sensory elements to check the
false reasoning which, without them, appears to us conclusive. That is to
say, that there is a process of dissociation by which ordinary channels
of association are temporarily blocked, perhaps by exhaustion of their
conductive elements, and the conditions are prepared for the formation
of the hallucination. It is, as Parish has argued, in sleep and in those
sleep-resembling states called hypnagogic that a condition of dissociation
leading to hallucination is most apt to occur.[52]
Thus it is that though the psychic frontier of the sleeping state is more
extended than that of the normal waking state, the focus of sleeping
consciousness is more contracted than that of waking consciousness. In
other words, while facts are liable to drift from a very wide psychic
distance under our dreaming attention, we cannot direct the searchlight of
that attention at will over so wide a field as when we are awake. We deal
with fewer psychic elements, though those elements are drawn from a wider
field.
The psychology of 'attention' is, indeed, a very disputed matter.[53]
There is no agreement as to whether it is central or peripheral, motor or
sensory. As we have seen in the previous chapter, it seems reasonable to
conclude, according to a convenient distinction established by Ribot, that
spontaneous attention is persistent during sleep, but voluntary attention
is at a minimum. In some such way, it seems, whatever theory of attention
we adopt, we have to recognise that in dreams the attention is limited.
Such a position is fortified by the conclusion of those who look at the
problem, not so much in terms of attention as in terms of apperception.
Apperception, according to Wundt, differs from perception in that while
the latter is the appearance of a content in consciousness, the former
is its reception into the state of attention. Or, as Stout defines it,
apperception is 'the process by which a mental system appropriates a new
element, or otherwise receives a fresh determination.'[54] Apperception
is, therefore, the final stage of attention, and ultimately, as Wundt
remarks, it is one with will. Apperception and will, as most psychologists
consider, like attention, are enfeebled and diminished, if not abolished,
in sleep.
In dreams, it thus comes about, we accept the facts presented to
us--that is the fundamental assumption of dream life--and we argue about
those 'facts' with the help of all the mental resources which are at
our disposal, only those resources are frequently inadequate. Sometimes
they are startlingly inadequate, to such an extent, indeed, that we
are unaware of possibilities which would be the very first to suggest
themselves to waking consciousness. Thus the lady who wished to send a
small sum of money to Ireland is not aware of the existence of postal
orders, and when she decides to convey the money herself, she is not aware
of the existence of boat-trains, or even of boats; she might have been
living in palaeolithic times. She discusses the question in a clear and
logical manner with the resources at her disposal, and reaches a rational
conclusion, but considerations which would be the first to occur to waking
consciousness are at the moment absent from sleeping consciousness; whole
mental tracts have been dissociated, switched off from communication with
consciousness; they are 'asleep,' even to sleeping consciousness.[55]
The result is that we are not only dominated by the suggestion of our
visions, but we are unable adequately to appreciate and criticise the
situations which are presented to us. We instinctively continue to
reason, and to reason clearly and logically with the material at our
disposal, but our reasoning is hopelessly absurd. We perceive in dreams,
but we do not apperceive; we cannot, that is to say, test and sift the
new experience, and co-ordinate it adequately with the whole body of
our acquired mental possessions. The phenomena of dreaming furnish a
delightful illustration of the fact that reasoning, in its rough form, is
only the crudest and most elementary form of intellectual operation, and
that the finer forms of thinking involve much more than logic. 'All the
thinking in the world,' as Goethe puts it, 'will not lead us to thought.'
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 42: Freud brings together (_Traumdeutung_, pp. 38 _et seq._)
some of the different opinions regarding reasoning in dreams.]
[Footnote 43: 'Reasoning,' says Binet (_La Psychologie du Raisonnement_,
1886, p. 10), speaking without reference to dreaming, but in words that
are exactly applicable to it, 'is an organisation of images determined by
the properties of the images alone; it suffices for the images to be put
in presence and they become organised; reason follows with the certainty
of a reflex.']
[Footnote 44: H. R. Marshall, _Instinct and Reason;_ _ib._ 'Reason a Mode
of Instinct,' _Psychological Review_, March 1899.]
[Footnote 45: Some of the most methodically absurd examples of dreaming
logic cannot be effectively brought forward, as they are so personal that
they require much explanation to make them intelligible.]
[Footnote 46: Delacroix ('Sur la Structure Logique du Rêve,' _Revue de
Metaphysique_, November 1904), in opposition to Leroy and Tobolowska,
goes so far as to say that 'the sense of the dream, the interpretation of
the image, is given in the image, before the image, if one may say so;
we are not concerned with a mere procession of images without internal
connection, but are introduced into a pre-established organisation; wholes
are decomposed and not separate elements united.' We have to remember that
in dream life as in waking life the action is twofold; in either world
when our psychic activity is of low intensity we combine external images
into a fairly objective picture; when psychic activity is intense external
images are subdued and controlled by that activity.]
[Footnote 47: A somewhat similar mistaken self-detachment may even occur
momentarily in the waking condition. Thus Jastrow (_The Subconscious_,
p. 137) refers to the 'lapse of consciousness' of a lady student who,
while absorbed in her work, heard outside the door the shuffling of
rubber heels such as she herself wore, and said 'There goes----,' naming
herself. That delusion was no doubt due to the eruption of a dream-like
state of distraction. As regards the visual phantasm of the self (which
has sometimes been seen by men of very distinguished intellectual power)
it may be noted that it is favoured by the conditions of dream life. Our
dream imagery is all pictural, sometimes even to dream consciousness,
and to see oneself in the picture is, therefore, not so very much more
remarkable than it is in waking life to come upon oneself among a bundle
of photographs.]
[Footnote 48: As regards the significance of snakes in dreams, it may be
remarked that the followers of Freud regard them as being, in the dreams
of women, as they are in the speech and myths of primitive peoples, erotic
symbols (_e.g._ Karl Abraham, _Traum und Mythus_, 1909, p. 19). It must be
remembered, however, that this erotic symbolism is but a small part of the
emotional interest aroused by snakes which are an extremely common source
of fear, especially in the young. See _e.g._ Stanley Hall, 'A Study of
Fears,' _American Journal of Psychology_, 1897, pp. 205 _et seq_.]
[Footnote 49: It may even occur that a person partly wakes up, perceives
what is going on around him, converses about it, falls asleep again, and
imagines in the morning that the whole episode was a dream. Hammond,
who also denies that we can dream we are dreaming, gives a case in
illustration (_Treatise on Insanity_, p. 190).]
[Footnote 50: The vision of the dream world we thus attain corresponds
exactly to the philosophy of life set forth by Jules de Gaultier, perhaps
the most subtle and original of living thinkers; according to Gaultier
the psychic improvisation which has created the spectacle of the world
has, as it were, sworn 'never to recognise itself beneath the masks
it has assumed, in order to retain the joy of an unending play of the
unforeseen.']
[Footnote 51: Dissociation may be defined as a condition in which, in
the words of Tannery (_Revue Philosophique_, October 1898), 'the various
organisms of the brain which in the waking state accomplish distinct
functions with satisfactory agreement are, on the contrary, in a state
of semi-independence.' There is, in Greenwood's words (_Imagination in
Dreams_, p. 41), a 'loosening of mental bonds,' corresponding to the
relaxation of muscular tension which also occurs before going to sleep.]
[Footnote 52: Edmund Parish, _Hallucinations and Illusions: A Study of
the Fallacies of Perception_ (Contemporary Science Series), 1897. It
is significant to observe that in hysteria, which may be regarded as
presenting a condition somewhat analogous to sleep, dissociation also
occurs. 'Hysteria,' says Janet (_The Major Symptoms of Hysteria_, 1907,
p. 332), one of the greatest authorities, 'is a form of mental depression
characterised by the retraction of the field of personal consciousness and
a tendency to the dissociation and emancipation of the system of ideas and
functions that constitute personality.']
[Footnote 53: The theories of attention are lucidly and concisely set
forth by Nayrac, 'Le Processus et le Mécanisme de l'Attention,' _Revue
Scientifique_, 7th April 1906.]
[Footnote 54: G. F. Stout, _Analytic Psychology_, vol. ii. p. 112. In
the _Dictionary of Philosophy and Psychology_, again, Stout and Baldwin
define apperception as 'the process of attention in so far as it involves
interaction between the presentation of the object attended to, on the one
hand, and the total preceding conscious content, together with pre-formed
mental dispositions, on the other hand.']
[Footnote 55: A very similar state of things occurs in some forms of
insanity, especially in the less profound states of mental confusion,
when, as Bolton remarks ('Amentia and Dementia,' _Journal of Mental
Science_, July 1906, p. 445), we find 'certain associated remnants of
former experience combined into a sequence according to the normal laws of
mental association.']