THE PSYCHOLOGY OF DREAMS[192]
A dream is a psychic structure which at first sight appears to be
in striking contrast with conscious thought, because judging by its
form and substance it apparently does not lie within the continuity
of development of the conscious contents, it is not integral to it,
but is a mere external and apparently accidental occurrence. Its mode
of genesis is in itself sufficient to isolate a dream from the other
contents of the conscious, for it is a survival of a peculiar psychic
activity which takes place during sleep, and does not originate in the
manifest and clearly logical and emotional continuity of the event
experienced.
But a careful observer should have no difficulty in discovering that a
dream is not entirely severed from the continuity of the conscious, for
in almost every dream certain details are found which have their origin
in the impressions, thoughts, or states of mind of one of the preceding
days. In so far a certain continuity does exist, albeit a _retrograde_
one. But any one keenly interested in the dream problem cannot have
failed to observe that a dream has also a _progressive_ continuity--if
such an expression be permitted--since dreams occasionally exert a
remarkable influence upon the conscious mental life, even of persons
who cannot be considered superstitious or particularly abnormal. These
occasional after-effects are usually seen in a more or less distinct
change in the dreamer's frame of mind.
It is probably in consequence of this loose connection with the other
conscious contents, that the recollected dream is so extremely
unstable. Many dreams baffle all attempts at reproduction, even
immediately after waking; others can only be remembered with doubtful
accuracy, and comparatively few can be termed really distinct
and clearly reproduceable. This peculiar reaction with regard to
recollection may be understood by considering the characteristics of the
various elements combined in a dream. The combination of ideas in dreams
is essentially _phantastic_; they are linked together in a sequence
which, as a rule, is quite foreign to our current way of thinking, and
in striking contrast to the logical sequence of ideas which we consider
to be a special characteristic of conscious mental processes.
It is to this characteristic that dreams owe the common epithet of
"meaningless." Before pronouncing this verdict, we must reflect that
dreams and their chains of ideas are something that _we_ do not
understand. Such a verdict would therefore be merely a projection of our
non-comprehension upon its object. But that would not prevent its own
peculiar meaning being inherent in a dream.
In spite of the fact that for centuries endeavours have been made
to extract a prophetic meaning from dreams, Freud's discovery
is practically the first successful attempt to find their real
significance. His work merits the term "scientific," because he has
evolved a technique which, not only he, but many other investigators
also assert achieves its object, namely, the understanding of the
meaning of the dream. This meaning is not identical with the one which
the manifest dream content seems to indicate.
This is not the place for a critical discussion of Freud's psychology of
dreams. But I will try to give a brief summary of what may be regarded
as more or less established facts of dream psychology to-day.
The first question we must discuss is, whence do we deduce the
justification for attributing to dreams any other significance than the
one indicated in the unsatisfying fragmentary meaning of the manifest
dream content?
As regards this point a particularly weighty argument is the fact that
Freud discovered the hidden meaning of dreams by _empiric_ and not
_deductive_ methods. A further argument in favour of a possible hidden,
as opposed to the manifest meaning of dreams, is obtained by comparing
dream-phantasies with other phantasies (day-dreams and the like) in
one and the same individual. It is not difficult to conceive that such
day-phantasies have not merely a superficial, concrete meaning, but also
a deeper psychological meaning. It is solely on account of the brevity
that I must impose upon myself, that I do not submit materials in proof
of this. But I should like to point out that what may be said about the
meaning of phantasies, is well illustrated by an old and widely diffused
type of imaginative story, of which Æsop's Fables are typical examples,
wherein, for instance, the story is some objectively impossible phantasy
about the deeds of a lion and an ass. The concrete superficial meaning
of the fable is an impossible phantasm, but the hidden moral meaning is
plain upon reflection. It is characteristic that children are pleased
and satisfied with the exoteric meaning of the story. However, the best
argument for the existence of a hidden meaning in dreams is provided
by conscientious application of the technical procedure to solve the
manifest dream content.
This brings us to our second main point, viz.--the question of analytic
procedure. Here again I desire neither to defend nor to criticise
Freud's views and discoveries, but rather to confine myself to what seem
to me to be firmly established facts.
The fact that a dream is a psychic structure, does not give us the
slightest ground for assuming that it obeys laws and designs other than
those applicable to any other psychic structure. According to the maxim:
_principia explicandi proeter necessitatem non sunt multiplicanda_, we
have to treat dreams, in analysis, just as any other psychic structure,
until experience teaches us some better way.
We know that every psychic construction considered from the standpoint
of causality, is the resultant of previous psychic contents. Moreover,
we know also that every psychic structure, considered from the
standpoint of finality, has its own peculiar meaning and purpose in the
actual psychic process. This standard must also be applied to dreams.
When, therefore, we seek a psychological explanation of a dream, we
must first know what were the preceding experiences out of which it is
combined. We must trace the antecedents of every element in the dream
picture. For example: some one dreams "_that he is walking in a street,
a child is running in front of him, who is suddenly run over by a
motor-car_." We will trace the antecedents of this dream-picture, with
the aid of the dreamer's recollections.
He recognises the street as one down which he had walked on the previous
day. The child he acknowledges as his brother's child, whom he had seen
on the previous evening when visiting his brother. The motor accident
reminds him of an accident that had actually occurred a few days before,
but of which he had only read an account in a newspaper. Popular opinion
is known to be satisfied with this kind of explanation. People say: "Oh,
that is why I dreamt such and such a thing!"
Obviously this explanation is absolutely unsatisfactory from a
scientific standpoint. The dreamer walked down many streets on the
previous day; why was this particular one selected? He had read
about several accidents; why did he select just this one? The mere
disclosure of an antecedent is by no means sufficient; for a plausible
determination of the dream presentation can only be obtained from the
competition of various determinants. The collection of additional
material proceeds, according to the principle of recollection that
has been called the _Association Method_. The result, as will easily
be understood, is the admission of a mass of multifarious and quite
heterogeneous material, having apparently nothing in common but the fact
of its evident associative connection with the dream contents, since it
has been reproduced by means of this content.
How far the collection of such material should go, is an important
question from the technical point of view. Since the entire psychic
content of a life may be ultimately disclosed from any single starting
point, theoretically the whole previous life-experience might be found
in every dream. But we only need to assemble just so much material as
is absolutely necessary in order to comprehend the dream's meaning.
The limitation of the material is obviously an arbitrary proceeding,
according to that principle of Kant's whereby to _comprehend_ is "_to
perceive to the extent necessary for our purpose_." For instance, when
undertaking a survey of the causes of the French Revolution, we could,
in amassing our material, include not only the history of medieval
France but also that of Rome and Greece, which certainly would not be
"necessary for our purpose," since we can comprehend the historical
genesis of the Revolution from much more limited material.
Except for the aforesaid arbitrary limitation, the collecting of
material lies outside the investigator's discretion. The material
gathered must now be sifted and examined, according to principles which
are always applied to the examination of historical or any empirical
scientific material. The method is an essentially comparative one, that
obviously cannot be applied automatically, but is largely dependent upon
the skill and aim of the investigator.
When a psychological fact has to be explained, it must be remembered
that psychological data necessitate a twofold point of view, namely,
that of _causality_ and that of _finality_. I use the word finality
intentionally, in order to avoid confusion with the idea of "teleology."
I use finality to denote immanent psychological teleology. In so far
as we apply the view point of causality to the material that has been
associated with the dream, we reduce the manifest dream content to
certain fundamental tendencies or ideas. These, as one would expect, are
elementary and universal in character.
For instance, a young patient dreams as follows: "_I am standing in a
strange garden, and pluck an apple from a tree. I look about cautiously,
to make sure no one sees me._"
The associated dream material is a memory of having once, when a boy,
plucked a couple of pears surreptitiously from another person's garden.
The feeling of having a bad conscience, which is a prominent feature in
the dream, reminds him of a situation he experienced on the previous
day. He met a young lady in the street--a casual acquaintance--and
exchanged a few words with her. At that moment a gentleman passed whom
he knew, whereupon our patient was suddenly seized with a curious
feeling of embarrassment, as if he had done something wrong. He
associated the apple with the scene in Paradise, together with the fact
that he had never really understood why the eating of the forbidden
fruit should have been fraught with such dire consequences for our first
parents. This had always made him feel angry; it seemed to him an unjust
act of God, for God had made men as they were, with all their curiosity
and greed.
Another association was, that sometimes his father had punished him for
certain things in a way that seemed to him incomprehensible. The worst
punishment had been bestowed after he had secretly watched girls bathing.
That led up to the confession that he had recently begun a love affair
with a housemaid, but had not yet carried it through to a conclusion. On
the day before the dream he had had a _rendezvous_ with her.
Upon reviewing this material we see that the dream contains a very
transparent reference to the last-named incident. The connecting
associative material shows that the apple episode is palpably meant for
an erotic scene. For various other reasons, too, it may be considered
extremely probable that this experience of the previous day is operative
even in this dream. In the dream the young man plucks the apple of
Paradise, which in reality he has not yet plucked. The remainder of the
material associated with the dream is concerned with another experience
of the previous day, namely, with the peculiar feeling of a _bad
conscience_, which seized the dreamer when he was talking to his casual
lady acquaintance; this, again, was connected with the fall of man in
Paradise, and finally with an erotic misdemeanour of his childhood, for
which his father had punished him severely. All these associations are
linked together by the idea of _guilt_.
In the first place we will consider this material from Freud's
view-point of causality; in other words, we will "interpret" it, to use
Freud's expression. A wish has been left unfulfilled from the day before
the dream. In the dream this wish is realised in the _symbolical_ apple
scene. But why is this realisation disguised and hidden under a symbolic
image instead of being expressed in a distinctly sexual thought? Freud
would refer to the unmistakable sense of guilt shown up by the material,
and say the morality that has been inculcated in the young man from
childhood is bent on repressing such wishes, and to that end brands the
natural craving as immoral and reprehensible. The suppressed immoral
thought can therefore only achieve expression by means of a _symbol_. As
these thoughts are incompatible with the moral content of the conscious
ego, a psychic factor adopted by Freud called the _Censor_, prevents
this wish from passing undisguised into consciousness.
Reviewing the dream from the standpoint of finality, which I contrast
with that of Freud, does not--as I wish to establish explicitly--involve
a denial of the dream's _causæ_, but rather a different interpretation
of the associative material collected around the dream. The material
facts remain the same, but the standard by which they are measured is
altered. The question may be formulated simply as follows: What is
this dream's purpose? What should it effect? These questions are not
arbitrary, in as much as they may be applied to every psychic activity.
Everywhere the question of the "why" and "wherefore" may be raised.
It is clear that the material added by the dream to the previous day's
erotic experience, chiefly emphasises the sense of guilt in the erotic
act. The same association has already been shown to be operative
in another experience of the previous day, in the meeting with his
casual lady acquaintance, when the feeling of a bad conscience was
automatically and inexplicably aroused, as if, in that instance, too,
the young man had done something wrong. This experience also plays a
part in the dream, which is even intensified by the association of
additional, appropriate material; the erotic experience of the day
before, being depicted by the story of the Fall which was followed by
such a severe punishment.
I maintain that there exists in the dreamer an unconscious propensity
or _tendency to conceive his erotic experiences as guilty_. It is most
characteristic that the association with the Fall of Man should ensue,
the young man having never really grasped why the punishment should
have been so drastic. This association throws light upon the reasons
why the dreamer did not think simply, "I am doing what is not right."
Obviously he does not _know_ that he might condemn his own conduct as
morally wrong. This is actually the case. His conscious belief is that
his conduct does not matter in the least morally, as all his friends
were acting in the same way; besides, for other reasons too, is unable
to understand why a fuss should be made about it.
Whether this dream should be considered full or void of meaning depends
upon a very important question, viz. whether the standpoint of morality,
handed down to us through the ages by our forefathers is held to be full
or void of meaning. I do not wish to wander off into a philosophical
discussion of this question, but would merely observe that mankind must
obviously have had very strong reasons for devising this morality,
otherwise it would be truly incomprehensible why such restraints should
be imposed upon one of man's strongest cravings. If we attach due
value to this fact, we are bound to pronounce this dream to be full of
meaning, for it reveals to the young man the necessity of facing his
erotic conduct boldly from the view point of morality. Primitive races
have in some respects extremely strict legislation concerning sexuality.
This fact proves that sexual morality is a not-to-be-neglected factor
in the soul's higher functions, but deserves to be taken fully into
account. In the case in question it should be added, that the young
man--influenced by his friends' example--somewhat thoughtlessly let
himself be guided exclusively by his erotic cravings, unmindful of
the fact that man is a morally responsible being and must perforce
submit--voluntarily or involuntarily--to a morality that he himself has
created.
In this dream we can discern a compensating function of the unconscious,
consisting in the fact that _those thoughts, propensities, and
tendencies of a human personality, which in conscious life are too
seldom recognised, come spontaneously into action in the sleeping state,
when to a large extent the conscious process is disconnected_.
The question might certainly be raised, of what use is this to the
dreamer if he does not understand the dream?
To this I must remark that to understand is not an exclusively
intellectual process, for--as experience proves--man may be
influenced--nay, even very effectually convinced--by innumerable things,
of which he has no intellectual understanding. I will merely remind my
readers of the efficacy of religious symbols.
The example given above might suggest the thought that the function
of dreams is a distinctly "moral" one. Such it appears to be in this
case, but if we recall the formula according to which dreams contain
the subliminal materials of a given moment, we cannot speak simply of
a "moral" function. For it is worthy of note that the dreams of those
persons whose actions are morally unexceptionable, bring materials to
light that might well be characterised as "immoral" in the current
meaning of that term. Thus it is significant that St. Augustine was glad
that God did not hold him responsible for his dreams. The unconscious
is the unknown of a given moment, therefore it is not surprising that
all those aspects that are essential for a totally different point of
view should be added by dreams to the conscious psychological factors of
a given moment. It is evident that this function of dreams signifies a
psychological adjustment, a compensation essential for properly balanced
action. In the conscious process of reflection it is indispensable that,
so far as possible, we should realise all the aspects and consequences
of a problem, in order to find the right solution. This process is
continued automatically in the more or less unconscious state of sleep,
wherever--as our previous experience seems to show--all those other
points of view occur to the dreamer (at least by way of allusion) that
during the day were underestimated or even totally ignored; in other
words, were comparatively unconscious.
As regards the much-discussed _symbolism_ of dreams, the value attached
to it varies according to whether the standpoint of causality or of
finality is adopted. According to Freud's causal view point it proceeds
from a _craving_, viz. from the suppressed dream-wish. This craving is
always somewhat simple and primitive, and is able to disguise itself
under manifold forms. For instance, the young man in question might just
as well have dreamt that he had to open a door with a key, or that he
had to travel by aeroplane, or that he was kissing his mother, etc. From
this standpoint all those things would have had the same meaning. In
this way, the typical adherents of Freud's school have come to the point
of interpreting--to give a gross instance--almost all long objects in
dreams as phallic symbols.
From the view-point of finality, the various dream pictures have each
their own peculiar value. For instance, if the young man, instead of
dreaming of the apple scene, had dreamt he had to open a door with
a key, the altered dream picture would have furnished associative
material of an essentially different character; that, again, would have
resulted in the conscious situation being supplemented by associations
of a totally different kind from those connected with the apple scene.
From this point of view, it is the diversity of the dream's mode of
expression that is full of meaning, and not the uniformity in its
significance. The causal view-point tends by its very nature towards
uniformity of meaning, that is, towards a fixed significance of symbols.
On the other hand, the final view-point perceives in an altered dream
picture, the expression of an altered psychological situation. It
recognises no fixed meaning of symbols. From this standpoint all the
dream pictures are important in themselves, each one having a special
significance of its own, to which it owes its inclusion in the dream.
Keeping to our previous example, we see that from the standpoint of
finality the symbol in this dream is approximately equivalent to a
parable; it does not conceal, but it teaches. The apple scene recalls
vividly the sense of guilt, at the same time disguising the real deed of
our first parents.
It is obvious we reach very dissimilar interpretations of the meaning
of the dream, according to the point of view adopted. The question
now arises, which is the better or truer version? After all, for us
therapeuts it is a practical and not a merely theoretical necessity
that leads us to seek for some comprehension of the meaning of dreams.
In treating our patients we must for practical reasons endeavour to lay
hold of any means that will enable us to train them effectually. It
should be quite evident from the foregoing example, that the material
associated with the dream has opened up a question calculated to make
many matters clear to the young man, which, hitherto, he has heedlessly
overlooked. But by disregarding these things he was really overlooking
something in himself, for he possesses a moral standard and a moral
need just like any other man. By trying to live without taking this
fact into consideration, his life is one-sided and incomplete, so to
say inco-ordinate; with the same consequences for the psychological
life as a one-sided and incomplete diet would have for the physical.
In order to develop a person's individuality and independence to the
uttermost, we need to bring to fruition all those functions that have
hitherto attained but little conscious development or none at all. In
order to achieve this aim, we must for therapeutic reasons enter into
all those unconscious aspects of things brought forward by the dream
material. This makes it abundantly clear that the view-point of finality
is singularly important as an aid to the practical development of the
individual.
The view-point of causality is obviously more in accord with the
scientific spirit of our time, with its strictly causalistic reasoning.
Much may be said for Freud's view as a scientific explanation of dream
psychology. But I must dispute its completeness, for the psyche cannot
be conceived merely from the causal aspect, but necessitates also a
final view-point. Only a combination of both points of view--which has
not yet been attained to the satisfaction of the scientific mind, owing
to great difficulties both of a practical and theoretical nature--can
give us a more complete conception of the essence of dreams.
* * * * *
I would like to treat briefly of some further problems of dream
psychology, that border on the general discussion of dreams. Firstly,
as to the _classification of dreams_; I do not wish to overestimate
either the practical or theoretical significance of this question. I
investigate yearly some 1500-2000 dreams, and this experience enables
me to state that typical dreams actually do exist. But they are not
very frequent, and from the view-point of finality they lose much
of the importance which attaches to them as a result of the fixed
significance of symbols according to the causal view-point. It seems to
me that the _typical themes_ of dreams are of far greater importance,
for they permit of a comparison with the themes of mythology. Many of
these mythological themes--in the study of which Frobenius has rendered
notable service--are also found in dreams, often with precisely the
same significance. Unfortunately the limited time at my disposal,
does not permit me to lay detailed materials before you: this has
been done elsewhere.[193] But I desire to emphasise the fact that the
comparison of the typical themes of dreams with those of mythology
obviously suggests the idea (already put forward by Nietzsche) that from
a phylogenetic point of view dream-thought should be conceived as an
older form of thought. Instead of multiplying examples in explanation
of my meaning, I will briefly refer you to our specimen dream. As
you remember, that dream introduced the apple scene as a typical
representation of erotic guilt. The gist of its purport is: "I am doing
wrong in acting like this." But it is characteristic that a dream never
expresses itself in a logically abstract way, but always in the language
of parable or simile. This peculiarity is also a characteristic feature
of primitive languages, whose flowery idioms always strike us. If you
call to mind the writings of ancient literature--_e.g._ the language of
simile in the Bible--you will find that what nowadays is expressed by
means of abstract expressions, could then only be expressed by means
of simile. Even such a philosopher as Plato did not disdain to express
certain fundamental ideas by means of concrete simile.
Just as the body bears traces of its phylogenetic development, so also
does the human mind. There is therefore nothing surprising in the
possibility of the allegories of our dreams being a survival of archaic
modes of thought.
The theft of the apple in our example is a typical theme of dreams,
often recurring with various modifications. It is also a well-known
theme in mythology, and is found not only in the story of the Garden of
Eden, but in numerous myths and fables of all ages and climes. It is one
of those universally human symbols, which can reappear in any one, at
any time. Thus, dream psychology opens up a way to a general comparative
psychology, from which we hope to attain the same sort of understanding
of the development and structure of the human soul, as comparative
anatomy has given us concerning the human body.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 192: This lecture was prepared for the Berne Medical Congress,
1914, postponed on the outbreak of war. Translator, Dora Hecht.]
[Footnote 193: "The Psychology of the Unconscious" ("Wandlungen und
Symbole der Libido"). Moffat, Yard & Co.]