Although the work of displacement must be held mainly responsible if the
dream thoughts are not refound or recognised in the dream content
(unless the motive of the changes be guessed), it is another and milder
kind of transformation which will be considered with the dream thoughts
which leads to the discovery of a new but readily understood act of the
dream work. The first dream thoughts which are unravelled by analysis
frequently strike one by their unusual wording. They do not appear to be
expressed in the sober form which our thinking prefers; rather are they
expressed symbolically by allegories and metaphors like the figurative
language of the poets. It is not difficult to find the motives for this
degree of constraint in the expression of dream ideas. The dream content
consists chiefly of visual scenes; hence the dream ideas must, in the
first place, be prepared to make use of these forms of presentation.
Conceive that a political leader’s or a barrister’s address had to be
transposed into pantomime, and it will be easy to understand the
transformations to which the dream work is constrained by regard for
this _dramatisation of the dream content_.
Around the psychical stuff of dream thoughts there are ever found
reminiscences of impressions, not infrequently of early childhood—scenes
which, as a rule, have been visually grasped. Whenever possible, this
portion of the dream ideas exercises a definite influence upon the
modelling of the dream content; it works like a centre of
crystallisation, by attracting and rearranging the stuff of the dream
thoughts. The scene of the dream is not infrequently nothing but a
modified repetition, complicated by interpolations of events that have
left such an impression; the dream but very seldom reproduces accurate
and unmixed reproductions of real scenes.
The dream content does not, however, consist exclusively of scenes, but
it also includes scattered fragments of visual images, conversations,
and even bits of unchanged thoughts. It will be perhaps to the point if
we instance in the briefest way the means of dramatisation which are at
the disposal of the dream work for the repetition of the dream thoughts
in the peculiar language of the dream.
The dream thoughts which we learn from the analysis exhibit themselves
as a psychical complex of the most complicated superstructure. Their
parts stand in the most diverse relationship to each other; they form
backgrounds and foregrounds, stipulations, digressions, illustrations,
demonstrations, and protestations. It may be said to be almost the rule
that one train of thought is followed by its contradictory. No feature
known to our reason whilst awake is absent. If a dream is to grow out of
all this, the psychical matter is submitted to a pressure which
condenses it extremely, to an inner shrinking and displacement, creating
at the same time fresh surfaces, to a selective interweaving among the
constituents best adapted for the construction of these scenes. Having
regard to the origin of this stuff, the term _regression_ can be fairly
applied to this process. The logical chains which hitherto held the
psychical stuff together become lost in this transformation to the dream
content. The dream work takes on, as it were, only the essential content
of the dream thoughts for elaboration. It is left to analysis to restore
the connection which the dream work has destroyed.
The dream’s means of expression must therefore be regarded as meagre in
comparison with those of our imagination, though the dream does not
renounce all claims to the restitution of logical relation to the dream
thoughts. It rather succeeds with tolerable frequency in replacing these
by formal characters of its own.
By reason of the undoubted connection existing between all the parts of
dream thoughts, the dream is able to embody this matter into a single
scene. It upholds a _logical connection_ as _approximation in time and
space_, just as the painter, who groups all the poets for his picture of
Parnassus who, though they have never been all together on a mountain
peak, yet form ideally a community. The dream continues this method of
presentation in individual dreams, and often when it displays two
elements close together in the dream content it warrants some special
inner connection between what they represent in the dream thoughts. It
should be, moreover, observed that all the dreams of one night prove on
analysis to originate from the same sphere of thought.
The causal connection between two ideas is either left without
presentation, or replaced by two different long portions of dreams one
after the other. This presentation is frequently a reversed one, the
beginning of the dream being the deduction, and its end the hypothesis.
The direct _transformation_ of one thing into another in the dream seems
to serve the relationship of _cause_ and _effect_.
The dream never utters the _alternative_ “_either-or_,” but accepts both
as having equal rights in the same connection. When “either-or” is used
in the reproduction of dreams, it is, as I have already mentioned, to be
replaced by “_and_.”
Conceptions which stand in opposition to one another are preferably
expressed in dreams by the same element.[2] There seems no “not” in
dreams. Opposition between two ideas, the relation of conversion, is
represented in dreams in a very remarkable way. It is expressed by the
reversal of another part of the dream content just as if by way of
appendix. We shall later on deal with another form of expressing
disagreement. The common dream sensation of _movement checked_ serves
the purpose of representing disagreement of impulses—a _conflict of the
will_.
Footnote 2:
It is worthy of remark that eminent philologists maintain that the
oldest languages used the same word for expressing quite general
antitheses. In C. Abel’s essay, “Ueber den Gegensinn der Urworter”
(1884), the following examples of such words in English are given:
“gleam—gloom”; “to lock—loch”; “down—The Downs”; “to step—to stop.” In
his essay on “The Origin of Language” (“Linguistic Essays,” p. 240),
Abel says: “When the Englishman says ‘without,’ is not his judgment
based upon the comparative juxtaposition of two opposites, ‘with’ and
‘out’; ‘with’ itself originally meant ‘without,’ as may still be seen
in ‘withdraw.’ ‘Bid’ includes the opposite sense of giving and of
proffering” (Abel, “The English Verbs of Command,” “Linguistic
Essays,” p. 104; see also Freud, “Ueber den Gegensinn der Urworte”:
_Jahrbuch für Psychoanalytische und Psychopathologische Forschungen_,
Band ii., part i., p. 179).—TRANSLATOR.
Only one of the logical relationships—that of _similarity_, _identity_,
_agreement_—is found highly developed in the mechanism of dream
formation. Dream work makes use of these cases as a starting-point for
condensation, drawing together everything which shows such agreement to
a _fresh unity_.
These short, crude observations naturally do not suffice as an estimate
of the abundance of the dream’s formal means of presenting the logical
relationships of the dream thoughts. In this respect, individual dreams
are worked up more nicely or more carelessly, our text will have been
followed more or less closely, auxiliaries of the dream work will have
been taken more or less into consideration. In the latter case they
appear obscure, intricate, incoherent. When the dream appears openly
absurd, when it contains an obvious paradox in its content, it is so of
purpose. Through its apparent disregard of all logical claims, it
expresses a part of the intellectual content of the dream ideas.
Absurdity in the dream denotes _disagreement_, _scorn_, _disdain_ in the
dream thoughts. As this explanation is in entire disagreement with the
view that the dream owes its origin to dissociated, uncritical cerebral
activity, I will emphasise my view by an example:
“_One of my acquaintances, Mr. M——, has been attacked by no less a
person than Goethe in an essay with, we all maintain, unwarrantable
violence. Mr. M—— has naturally been ruined by this attack. He complains
very bitterly of this at a dinner-party, but his respect for Goethe has
not diminished through this personal experience. I now attempt to clear
up the chronological relations which strike me as improbable. Goethe
died in 1832. As his attack upon Mr. M—— must, of course, have taken
place before, Mr. M—— must have been then a very young man. It seems to
me plausible that he was eighteen. I am not certain, however, what year
we are actually in, and the whole calculation falls into obscurity. The
attack was, moreover, contained in Goethe’s well-known essay on
‘Nature.’_”
The absurdity of the dream becomes the more glaring when I state that
Mr. M—— is a young business man without any poetical or literary
interests. My analysis of the dream will show what method there is in
this madness. The dream has derived its material from three sources:
1. Mr. M——, to whom I was introduced at a dinner-party, begged me one
day to examine his elder brother, who showed signs of mental trouble. In
conversation with the patient, an unpleasant episode occurred. Without
the slightest occasion he disclosed one of his brother’s _youthful
escapades_. I had asked the patient the _year of his birth_ (_year of
death_ in dream), and led him to various calculations which might show
up his want of memory.
2. A medical journal which displayed my name among others on the cover
had published a _ruinous_ review of a book by my friend F—— of Berlin,
from the pen of a very _juvenile_ reviewer. I communicated with the
editor, who, indeed, expressed his regret, but would not promise any
redress. Thereupon I broke off my connection with the paper; in my
letter of resignation I expressed the hope that our _personal relations
would not suffer from this_. Here is the real source of the dream. The
derogatory reception of my friend’s work had made a deep impression upon
me. In my judgment, it contained a fundamental biological discovery
which only now, several years later, commences to find favour among the
professors.
3. A little while before, a patient gave me the medical history of her
brother, who, exclaiming “_Nature, Nature!_” had gone out of his mind.
The doctors considered that the exclamation arose from a study of
_Goethe’s_ beautiful essay, and indicated that the patient had been
overworking. I expressed the opinion that it seemed more _plausible_ to
me that the exclamation “Nature!” was to be taken in that sexual meaning
known also to the less educated in our country. It seemed to me that
this view had something in it, because the unfortunate youth afterwards
mutilated his genital organs. The patient was eighteen years old when
the attack occurred.
The first person in the dream thoughts behind the ego was my friend who
had been so scandalously treated. “_I now attempted to clear up the
chronological relations._” My friend’s book deals with the chronological
relations of life, and, amongst other things, correlates _Goethe’s_
duration of life with a number of days in many ways important to
biology. The ego is, however, represented as a general paralytic (“_I am
not certain what year we are actually in_”). The dream exhibits my
friend as behaving like a general paralytic, and thus riots in
absurdity. But the dream thoughts run ironically. “Of course he is a
madman, a fool, and you are the genius who understands all about it. But
shouldn’t it be the _other way round_?” This inversion obviously took
place in the dream when Goethe attacked the young man, which is absurd,
whilst anyone, however young, can to-day easily attack the great Goethe.
I am prepared to maintain that no dream is inspired by other than
egoistic emotions. The ego in the dream does not, indeed, represent only
my friend, but stands for myself also. I identify myself with him
because the fate of his discovery appears to me typical of the
acceptance _of my own_. If I were to publish my own theory, which gives
sexuality predominance in the ætiology of psycho-neurotic disorders (see
the allusion to the eighteen-year-old patient—“_Nature, Nature!_”), the
same criticism would be levelled at me, and it would even now meet with
the same contempt.
When I follow out the dream thoughts closely, I ever find only _scorn_
and _contempt_ as _correlated with the dream’s absurdity_. It is well
known that the discovery of a cracked sheep’s skull on the Lido in
Venice gave Goethe the hint for the so-called vertebral theory of the
skull. My friend plumes himself on having as a student raised a hubbub
for the resignation of an aged professor who had done good work
(including some in this very subject of comparative anatomy), but who,
on account of _decrepitude_, had become quite incapable of teaching. The
agitation my friend inspired was so successful because in the German
Universities an _age limit_ is not demanded for academic work. _Age is
no protection against folly._ In the hospital here I had for years the
honour to serve under a chief who, long fossilised, was for decades
notoriously _feeble-minded_, and was yet permitted to continue in his
responsible office. A trait, after the manner of the find in the Lido,
forces itself upon me here. It was to this man that some youthful
colleagues in the hospital adapted the then popular slang of that day:
“No Goethe has written that,” “No Schiller composed that,” etc.