I ask you to give your particular attention to the significance of this

subject. If I invite a person to tell me what occurs to him in relation

to some certain element of his dream I am asking him to abandon himself

to free association, _controlled by a given premise_. This demands a

special delimitation of the attention, quite different from cogitation,

in fact, exclusive of cogitation. Many persons put themselves into such

a state easily; others show an extraordinarily high degree of

clumsiness. There is a higher level of free association again, where I

omit this original premise and designate only the manner of the

association, e.g., rule that the subject freely give a proper name or a

number. Such an association would be more voluntary, more

indeterminable, than the one called forth by our technique. But it can

be shown that it is strongly determined each time by an important inner

mental set which, at the moment at which it is active, is unknown to us,

just as unknown as the disturbing tendencies in the case of errors and

the provocative tendencies in the case of accidental occurrences.

I, and many others after me, have again and again instigated such

investigations for names and numbers which occur to the subject without

any restraint, and have published some results. The method is the

following: Proceeding from the disclosed names, we awaken continuous

associations which then are no longer entirely free, but rather are

limited as are the associations to the dream elements, and this is true

until the impulse is exhausted. By that time, however, the motivation

and significance of the free name associations is explained. The

investigations always yield the same results, the information often

covers a wealth of material and necessitates lengthy elaboration. The

associations to freely appearing numbers are perhaps the most

significant. They follow one another so quickly and approach a hidden

goal with such inconceivable certainty, that it is really startling. I

want to give you an example of such a name analysis, one that, happily,

involves very little material.

In the course of my treatment of a young man, I referred to this subject

and mentioned the fact that despite the apparent volition it is

impossible to have a name occur which does not appear to be limited by

the immediate conditions, the peculiarities of the subject, and the

momentary situation. He was doubtful, and I proposed that he make such

an attempt immediately. I know he has especially numerous relations of

every sort with women and girls, and so am of the opinion that he will

have an unusually wide choice if he happens to think of a woman's name.

He agrees. To my astonishment, and perhaps even more to his, no

avalanche of women's names descends upon my head, but he is silent for a

time, and then admits that a single name has occurred to him--and no

other: _Albino_. How extraordinary, but what associations have you with

this name? How many albinoes do you know? Strangely enough, he knew no

albinoes, and there were no further associations with the name. One

might conclude the analysis had proved a failure; but no--it was already

complete; no further association was necessary. The man himself had

unusually light coloring. In our talks during the cure I had frequently

called him an albino in fun. We were at the time occupied in determining

the feminine characteristics of his nature. He himself was the Albino,

who at that moment was to him the most interesting feminine person.

In like manner, melodies, which come for no reason, show themselves

conditioned by and associated with a train of thought which has a right

to occupy one, yet of whose activity one is unconscious. It is easily

demonstrable that the attraction to the melody is associated with the

text, or its origin. But I must take the precaution not to include in

this assertion really musical people, with whom, as it happens, I have

had no experience. In their cases the musical meaning of the melody may

have occasioned its occurrence. More often the first reason holds. I

know of a young man who for a time was actually haunted by the really

charming melody of the song of Paris, from _The Beautiful Helen_, until

the analysis brought to his attention the fact that at that time his

interest was divided between an Ida and a Helen.

If then the entirely unrestrained associations are conditioned in such a

manner and are arranged in a distinct order, we are justified in

concluding that associations with a single condition, that of an

original premise, or starting point, may be conditioned to no less

degree. The investigation does in fact show that aside from the

conditioning which we have established by the premise, a second farther

dependence is recognizable upon powerful affective thoughts, upon cycles

of interest and complexes of whose influence we are ignorant, therefore

unconscious at the time.

Associations of this character have been the subject matter of very

enlightening experimental investigations, which have played a noteworthy

role in the history of psychoanalysis. The Wundt school proposed the

so-called association-experiment, wherein the subject is given the task

of answering in the quickest possible time, with any desired reaction,

to a given stimulus-word. It is then possible to study the interval of

time that elapses between the stimulus and the reaction, the nature of

the answer given as reaction, the possible mistake in a subsequent

repetition of the same attempt, and similar matters. The Zurich School

under the leadership of Bleuler and Jung, gave the explanation of the

reactions following the association-experiment, by asking the subject to

explain a given reaction by means of further associations, in the cases

where there was anything extraordinary in the reaction. It then became

apparent that these extraordinary reactions were most sharply determined

by the complexes of the subject. In this matter Bleuler and Jung built

the first bridge from experimental psychology to psychoanalysis.

Thus instructed, you will be able to say, "We recognize now that free

associations are predetermined, not voluntary, as we had believed. We

admit this also as regards the associations connected with the elements

of the dream, but that is not what we are concerned with. You maintain

that the associations to the dream element are determined by the unknown

psychic background of this very element. We do not think that this is a

proven fact. We expect, to be sure, that the association to the dream

element will clearly show itself through one of the complexes of the

dreamer, but what good is that to us? That does not lead us to

understand the dream, but rather, as in the case of the

association-experiment, to a knowledge of the so-called complexes. What

have these to do with the dream?"

You are right, but you overlook one point, in fact, the very point

because of which I did not choose the association-experiment as the

starting point for this exposition. In this experiment the one

determinate of the reaction, viz., the stimulus word, is voluntarily

chosen. The reaction is then an intermediary between this stimulus word

and the recently aroused complex of the subject. In the dream the

stimulus word is replaced by something that itself has its origin in the

psychic life of the dreamer, in sources unknown to him, hence very

likely itself a product of the complex. It is not an altogether

fantastic hypothesis, then, that the more remote associations, even

those that are connected with the dream element, are determined by no

other complex than the one which determines the dream element itself,

and will lead to the disclosure of the complex.

Let me show you by another case that the situation is really as we

expect it to be. Forgetting proper names is really a splendid example

for the case of dream analysis; only here there is present in one person

what in the dream interpretation is divided between two persons. Though

I have forgotten a name temporarily I still retain the certainty that I

know the name; that certainty which we could acquire for the dreamer

only by way of the Bernheim experiment. The forgotten name, however, is

not accessible. Cogitation, no matter how strenuous, does not help.

Experience soon tells me that. But I am able each time to find one or

more substitute names for the forgotten name. If such a substitute name

occurs to me spontaneously then the correspondence between this

situation and that of the dream analysis first becomes evident. Nor is

the dream element the real thing, but only a substitute for something

else, for what particular thing I do not know, but am to discover by

means of the dream analysis. The difference lies only in this, that in

forgetting a name I recognize the substitute automatically as

unsuitable, while in the dream element we must acquire this

interpretation with great labor. When a name is forgotten, too, there

is a way to go from the substitute to the unknown reality, to arrive at

the forgotten name. If I centre my attention on the substitute name and

allow further associations to accumulate, I arrive in a more or less

roundabout way at the forgotten name, and discover that the spontaneous

substitute names, together with those called up by me, have a certain

connection with the forgotten name, were conditioned by it.

I want to show you an analysis of this type. One day I noticed that I

could not recall the name of the little country in the Riviera of which

Monte Carlo is the capital. It is very annoying, but it is true. I steep

myself in all my knowledge about this country, think of Prince Albert,

of the house of Lusignan, of his marriages, his preference for deep-sea

study, and anything else I can think of, but to no avail. So I give up

the thinking, and in place of the lost name allow substitute names to

suggest themselves. They come quickly--Monte Carlo itself, then

Piedmont, Albania, Montevideo, Colico. Albania is the first to attract

my attention, it is replaced by Montenegro, probably because of the

contrast between black and white. Then I see that four of these

substitutes contain the same syllable _mon_. I suddenly have the

forgotten word, and cry aloud, "_Monaco_." The substitutes really

originated in the forgotten word, the four first from the first

syllable, the last brings back the sequence of syllables and the entire

final syllable. In addition, I am also able easily to discover what it

was that took the name from my memory for a time. Monaco is also the

Italian name of Munich; this latter town exerted the inhibiting

influence.

The example is pretty enough, but too simple. In other cases we must add

to the first substitute names a long line of associations, and then the

analogy to the dream interpretation becomes clearer. I have also had

such experiences. Once when a stranger invited me to drink Italian wine

with him, it so happened in the hostelry that he forgot the name of the

wine he had intended to order just because he had retained a most

pleasant memory of it. Out of a profusion of dissimilar substitute

associations which came to him in the place of the forgotten name, I was

able to conclude that the memory of some one named Hedwig had deprived

him of the name of the wine, and he actually confirmed not only that he

had first tasted this wine in the company of a Hedwig, but he also, as

a result of this declaration, recollected the name again. He was at the

time happily married, and this Hedwig belonged to former times, not now

recalled with pleasure.

What is possible in forgetting names must work also in dream

interpretation, viz., making the withheld actuality accessible by means

of substitutions and through connecting associations. As exemplified by

name-forgetting, we may conclude that in the case of the associations to

the dream element they will be determined as well by the dream element

as by its unknown essential. Accordingly, we have advanced a few steps

in the formulation of our dream technique.

SEVENTH LECTURE

THE DREAM

_Manifest Dream Content and Latent Dream Thought_

We have not studied the problem of errors in vain. Thanks to our efforts

in this field, under the conditions known to you, we have evolved two

different things, a conception of the elements of the dream and a

technique for dream interpretation. The conception of the dream element

goes to show something unreal, a substitute for something else, unknown

to the dreamer, similar to the tendency of errors, a substitute for

something the dreamer knows but cannot approach. We hope to transfer the

same conception to the whole dream, which consists of just such

elements. Our method consists of calling up, by means of free

associations, other substitute formations in addition to these elements,

from which we divine what is hidden.

Let me ask you to permit a slight change in our nomenclature which will

greatly increase the flexibility of our vocabulary. Instead of hidden,

unapproachable, unreal, let us give a truer description and say

inaccessible or unknown to the consciousness of the dreamer. By this we

mean only what the connection with the lost word or with the interfering

intention of the error can suggest to you, namely, unconscious _for the

time being_. Naturally in contrast to this we may term _conscious_ the

elements of the dream itself and the substitute formations just gained

by association. As yet there is absolutely no theoretical construction

implied in this nomenclature. The use of the word unconscious as a

suitable and intelligible descriptive epithet is above criticism.

If we transfer our conception from a single element to the entire dream,

we find that the dream as a whole is a distorted substitute for

something else, something unconscious. To discover this unconscious

thing is the task of dream interpretation. From this, three important

rules, which we must observe in the work of dream interpretation, are

straightway derived:

1. What the dream seems to say, whether it be sensible or absurd, clear

or confused is not our concern, since it can under no condition be that

unconscious content we are seeking. Later we shall have to observe an

obvious limitation of this rule. 2. The awakening of substitute

formations for each element shall be the sole object of our work. We

shall not reflect on these, test their suitability or trouble how far

they lead away from the element of the dream. 3. We shall wait until the

hidden unconscious we are seeking appears of itself, as the missing word

_Monaco_ in the experiment which we have described.

Now we can understand, too, how unimportant it is how much, how little,

above all, how accurately or how indifferently the dream is remembered.

For the dream which is remembered is not the real one, but a distorted

substitute, which is to help us approach the real dream by awakening

other substitute formations and by making the unconscious in the dream

conscious. Therefore if our recollection of the dream was faulty, it has

simply brought about a further distortion of this substitute, a

distortion which cannot, however, be unmotivated.

One can interpret one's own dreams as well as those of others. One

learns even more from these, for the process yields more proof. If we

try this, we observe that something impedes the work. Haphazard ideas

arise, but we do not let them have their way. Tendencies to test and to

choose make themselves felt. As an idea occurs, we say to ourselves "No,

that does not fit, that does not belong here"; of a second "that is too

senseless"; of a third, "this is entirely beside the point"; and one can

easily observe how the ideas are stifled and suppressed by these

objections, even before they have become entirely clear. On the one

hand, therefore, too much importance is attached to the dream elements

themselves; on the other, the result of free association is vitiated by

the process of selection. If you are not interpreting the dream alone,

if you allow someone else to interpret it for you, you will soon

discover another motive which induces you to make this forbidden choice.

At times you say to yourself, "No, this idea is too unpleasant, I either

will not or cannot divulge this."

Clearly these objections are a menace to the success of our work. We

must guard against them, in our own case by the firm resolve not to give

way to them; and in the interpretation of the dreams of others by making

the hard and fast rule for them, never to omit any idea from their

account, even if one of the following four objections should arise: that

is, if it should seem too unimportant, absurd, too irrelevant or too

embarrassing to relate. The dreamer promises to obey this rule, but it

is annoying to see how poorly he keeps his promise at times. At first we

account for this by supposing that in spite of the authoritative

assurance which has been given to the dreamer, he is not impressed with

the importance of free association, and plan perhaps to win his

theoretic approval by giving him papers to read or by sending him to

lectures which are to make him a disciple of our views concerning free

association. But we are deterred from such blunders by the observation

that, in one's own case, where convictions may certainly be trusted, the

same critical objections arise against certain ideas, and can only be

suppressed subsequently, upon second thought, as it were.

Instead of becoming vexed at the disobedience of the dreamer, these

experiences can be turned to account in teaching something new,

something which is the more important the less we are prepared for it.

We understand that the task of interpreting dreams is carried on against

a certain _resistance_ which manifests itself by these critical

objections. This resistance is independent of the theoretical conviction

of the dreamer. Even more is apparent. We discover that such a critical

objection is never justified. On the contrary, those ideas which we are

so anxious to suppress, prove _without exception_ to be the most

important, the most decisive, in the search for the unconscious. It is

even a mark of distinction if an idea is accompanied by such an

objection.

This resistance is something entirely new, a phenomenon which we have

found as a result of our hypotheses although it was not originally

included in them. We are not too pleasantly surprised by this new factor

in our problem. We suspect that it will not make our work any easier. It

might even tempt us to abandon our entire work in connection with the

dream. Such an unimportant thing as the dream and in addition such

difficulties instead of a smooth technique! But from another point of

view, these same difficulties may prove fascinating, and suggest that

the work is worth the trouble. Whenever we try to penetrate to the

hidden unconscious, starting out from the substitute which the dream

element represents, we meet with resistance. Hence, we are justified in

supposing that something of weight must be hidden behind the substitute.

What other reason could there be for the difficulties which are

maintained for purposes of concealment? If a child does not want to open

his clenched fist, he is certainly hiding something he ought not to

have.

Just as soon as we bring the dynamic representation of resistance into

our consideration of the case, we must realize that this factor is

something quantitatively variable. There may be greater or lesser

resistances and we are prepared to see these differences in the course

of our work. We may perhaps connect this with another experience found

in the work of dream interpretation. For sometimes only one or two ideas

serve to carry us from the dream element to its unconscious aspect,

while at other times long chains of associations and the suppression of

many critical objections are necessary. We shall note that these

variations are connected with the variable force of resistance. This

observation is probably correct. If resistance is slight, then the

substitute is not far removed from the unconscious, but strong

resistance carries with it a great distortion of the unconscious and in

addition a long journey back to it.

Perhaps the time has come to take a dream and try out our method to see

if our faith in it shall be confirmed. But which dream shall we choose?

You cannot imagine how hard it is for me to decide, and at this point I

cannot explain the source of the difficulty. Of course, there must be

dreams which, as a whole, have suffered slight distortion, and it would

be best to start with one of these. But which dreams are the least

distorted? Those which are sensible and not confused, of which I have

already given you two examples? This would be a gross misunderstanding.

Testing shows that these dreams have suffered by distortion to an

exceptionally high degree. But if I take the first best dream,

regardless of certain necessary conditions, you would probably be very

much disappointed. Perhaps we should have to note such an abundance of

ideas in connection with single elements of dream that it would be

absolutely impossible to review the work in perspective. If we write the

dream out and confront it with the written account of all the ideas

which arise in connection with it, these may easily amount to a

reiteration of the text of the dream. It would therefore seem most

practical to choose for analysis several short dreams of which each one

can at least reveal or confirm something. This is what we shall decide

upon, provided experience should not point out where we shall really

find slightly distorted dreams.

But I know of another way to simplify matters, one which, moreover, lies

in our path. Instead of attempting the interpretation of entire dreams,

we shall limit ourselves to single dream elements and by observing a

series of examples we shall see how these are explained by the

application of our method.

1. A lady relates that as a child she often dreamt "_that God had a

pointed paper hat on his head_." How do you expect to understand that

without the help of the dreamer? Why, it sounds quite absurd. It is no

longer absurd when the lady testifies that as a child she was frequently

made to wear such a hat at the table, because she could not help

stealing glances at the plates of her brothers and sisters to see if one

of them had gotten more than she. The hat was therefore supposed to act

as a sort of blinder. This explanation was moreover historic, and given

without the least difficulty. The meaning of this fragment and of the

whole brief dream, is clear with the help of a further idea of the

dreamer. "Since I had heard that God was all-knowing and all-seeing,"

she said, "the dream can only mean that I know everything and see

everything just as God does, even when they try to prevent me." This

example is perhaps too simple.

2. A sceptical patient has a longer dream, in which certain people

happen to tell her about my book concerning laughter and praise it

highly. Then something is mentioned about a certain "_'canal,' perhaps

another book in which 'canal' occurs, or something else with the word

'canal' ... she doesn't know ... it is all confused_."

Now you will be inclined to think that the element "canal" will evade

interpretation because it is so vague. You are right as to the supposed

difficulty, but it is not difficult because it is vague, but rather it

is vague for a different reason, the same reason which also makes the

interpretation difficult. The dreamer can think of nothing concerning

the word canal, I naturally can think of nothing. A little while later,

as a matter of fact on the next day, she tells me that something

occurred to her that _may perhaps_ be related to it, a joke that she has

heard. On a ship between Dover and Calais a well-known author is

conversing with an Englishman, who quoted the following proverb in a

certain connection: "_Du sublime au ridicule, il n'y a qu'un pas_."[24]

The author answers, "_Oui, le pas de Calais_,"[25] with which he wishes

to say that he finds France sublime and England ridiculous. But the

"_Pas de Calais_" is really a canal, namely, the English Channel. Do I

think that this idea has anything to do with the dream? Certainly, I

believe that it really gives the solution to the puzzling dream

fragments. Or can you doubt that this joke was already present in the

dream, as the unconscious factor of the element, "canal." Can you take

it for granted that it was subsequently added to it? The idea testifies

to the scepticism which is concealed behind her obtrusive admiration,

and the resistance is probably the common reason for both phenomena, for

the fact that the idea came so hesitatingly and that the decisive

element of the dream turned out to be so vague. Kindly observe at this

point the relation of the dream element to its unconscious factor. It is

like a small part of the unconscious, like an allusion to it; through

its isolation it became quite unintelligible.

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