One also finds abundant indications which show that even in healthy,

not neurotic, persons resistances are found against the memory of

disagreeable impressions and the idea of painful thoughts.[34] But the

full significance of this fact can be estimated only when we enter

into the psychology of neurotic persons. One is forced to make such

elementary defensive striving against ideas which can awaken painful

feelings, a striving which can be put side by side only with the

flight-reflex in painful stimuli, as the main pillar of the mechanism

which carries the hysterical symptoms. One need not offer any objection

to the acceptance of such defensive tendency on the ground that we

frequently find it impossible to rid ourselves of painful memories

which cling to us, or to banish such painful emotions as remorse and

reproaches of conscience. No one maintains that this defensive tendency

invariably gains the upper hand, that in the play of psychic forces it

may not strike against factors which stir up the contrary feeling for

other purposes and bring it about in spite of it.

_As the architectural principle of the psychic apparatus we may

conjecture a certain stratification or structure of instances deposited

in strata._ And it is quite possible that this defensive tendency

belongs to a lower psychic instance, and is inhibited by higher

instances. At all events, it speaks for the existence and force of

this defensive tendency, when we can trace it to processes such as

those found in our examples of forgetting. We see then that something

is forgotten for its own sake, and where this is not possible the

defensive tendency misses the target and causes something else to

be forgotten--something less significant, but which has fallen into

associative connection with the disagreeable material.

The views here developed, namely, that painful memories merge into

motivated forgetting with special ease, merits application in many

spheres where as yet it has found no, or scarcely any, recognition.

Thus it seems to me that it has not yet been strongly enough emphasized

in the estimation of testimony taken in court,[35] where the putting

of a witness under oath obviously leads us to place too great a

trust on the purifying influence of his psychic play of forces. It

is universally admitted that in the origin of the traditions and

folklore of a people care must be taken to eliminate from memory

such a motive as would be painful to the national feeling. Perhaps

on closer investigation it may be possible to form a perfect analogy

between the manner of development of national traditions and infantile

reminiscences of the individual. The great Darwin has formulated a

“golden rule” for the scientific worker from his insight into this

pain-motive of forgetting.[36]

Almost exactly as in the forgetting of names, faulty recollections can

also appear in the forgetting of impressions, and when finding credence

they may be designated as delusions of memory. The memory disturbance

in pathologic cases (in paranoia it actually plays the rôle of a

constituting factor in the formation of delusions) has brought to light

an extensive literature in which there is no reference whatever to its

being motivated. As this theme also belongs to the psychology of the

neuroses it goes beyond our present treatment. Instead, I will give

from my own experience a curious example of memory disturbance showing

clearly enough its determination through unconscious repressed material

and its connection with this material.

While writing the latter chapters of my volume on the interpretation

of dreams, I happened to be in a summer resort without access to

libraries and reference books, so that I was compelled to introduce

into the manuscript all kinds of references and citations from memory.

These I naturally reserved for future correction. In the chapter

on day-dreams I thought of the distinguished figure of the poor

book-keeper in Alphonse Daudet’s _Nabab_, through whom the author

probably described his own day-dreams. I imagined that I distinctly

remembered one fantasy of this man, whom I called Mr. Jocelyn, which he

hatched while walking the streets of Paris, and I began to reproduce

it from memory. This fantasy described how Mr. Jocelyn boldly hurled

himself at a runaway horse and brought it to a standstill; how the

carriage door opened and a great personage stepped from the coupé,

pressed Mr. Jocelyn’s hand and said: “You are my saviour--I owe my life

to you! What can I do for you?”

I assured myself that casual inaccuracies in the rendition of this

fantasy could readily be corrected at home on consulting the book. But

when I perused _Nabab_ in order to compare it with my manuscript, I

found to my very great shame and consternation that there was nothing

to suggest such a dream by Mr. Jocelyn; indeed, the poor book-keeper

did not even bear this name--he was called Mr. Joyeuse.

This second error then furnished the key for the solution of the first

mistake, the faulty reminiscence. Joyeux, of which Joyeuse is the

feminine form, was the only possible word which would translate my

own name _Freud_ into French. Whence, therefore, came this falsely

remembered fantasy which I had attributed to Daudet? It could only be

a product of my own, a day-dream which I myself had spun, and which

did not become conscious, or which was once conscious and had since

been absolutely forgotten. Perhaps I invented it myself in Paris, where

frequently enough I walked the streets alone, and full of longing for

a helper and protector, until Charcot took me into his circle. I had

often met the author of _Nabab_ in Charcot’s house. But the provoking

part of it all is the fact that there is scarcely anything to which I

am so hostile as the thought of being some one’s protégé. What we see

of this sort of thing in our country spoils all desire for it, and my

character is little suited to the rôle of a protected child. I have

always entertained an immense desire to “be the strong man myself.” And

it had to happen that I should be reminded of such a, to be sure, never

fulfilled, day-dream! Besides, this incident is a good example of how

the restraint relation to one’s ego, which breaks forth triumphantly in

paranoia, disturbs and entangles us in the objective grasp of things.

Another case of faulty recollection which can be satisfactorily

explained resembles the _fausse reconnaissance_ to be discussed later.

I related to one of my patients, an ambitious and very capable man,

that a young student had recently gained admittance into the circle

of my pupils by means of an interesting work, _Der Künstler, Versuch

einer Sexualpsychologie_. When, a year and a quarter later, this work

lay before me in print, my patient maintained that he remembered

with certainty having read somewhere, perhaps in a bookseller’s

advertisement, the announcement of the same book even before I first

mentioned it to him. He remembered that this announcement came to his

mind at that time, and he ascertained besides that the author had

changed the title, that it no longer read “_Versuch_” but “_Ansätze zu

einer Sexualpsychologie_.”

Careful inquiry of the author and comparison of all dates showed

conclusively that my patient was trying to recall the impossible. No

notice of this work had appeared anywhere before its publication,

certainly not a year and a quarter before it went to print. However, I

neglected to seek a solution for this false recollection until the same

man brought about an equally valuable renewal of it. He thought that he

had recently noticed a work on “agoraphobia” in the show window of a

bookshop, and as he was now looking for it in all available catalogues

I was able to explain to him why his effort must remain fruitless.

The work on agoraphobia existed only in his fantasy as an unconscious

resolution to write such a book himself. His ambition to emulate

that young man, and through such a scientific work to become one of

my pupils, had led him to the first as well as to the second false

recollection. He also recalled later that the bookseller’s announcement

which had occasioned his false reminiscence dealt with a work entitled

_Genesis, Das Gesetz der Zeugung_ (“Genesis, The Law of Generation”).

But the change in the title as mentioned by him was really instigated

by me; I recalled that I myself have perpetrated the same inaccuracy

in the repetition of the title by saying “_Ansätze_” in place of

“_Versuch_.”

B. FORGETTING OF INTENTIONS.

No other group of phenomena is better qualified to demonstrate the

thesis that lack of attention does not in itself suffice to explain

faulty acts as the forgetting of intentions. An intention is an impulse

for an action which has already found approbation, but whose execution

is postponed for a suitable occasion. Now, in the interval thus created

sufficient change may take place in the motive to prevent the intention

from coming to execution. It is not, however, forgotten, it is simply

revised and omitted.

We are naturally not in the habit of explaining the forgetting of

intentions which we daily experience in every possible situation as

being due to a recent change in the adjustment of motives. We generally

leave it unexplained, or we seek a psychologic explanation in the

assumption that at the time of execution the required attention for the

action, which was an indispensable condition for the occurrence of the

intention, and was then at the disposal of the same action, no longer

exists. Observation of our normal behaviour towards intentions urges

us to reject this tentative explanation as arbitrary. If I resolve in

the morning to carry out a certain intention in the evening, I may be

reminded of it several times in the course of the day, but it is not

at all necessary that it should become conscious throughout the day.

As the time for its execution approaches it suddenly occurs to me and

induces me to make the necessary preparation for the intended action.

If I go walking and take a letter with me to be posted, it is not

at all necessary that I, as a normal not nervous individual, should

carry it in my hand and continually look for a letter-box. As a matter

of fact I am accustomed to put it in my pocket and give my thoughts

free rein on my way, feeling confident that the first letter-box will

attract my attention and cause me to put my hand in my pocket and draw

out the letter.

This normal behaviour in a formed intention corresponds perfectly

with the experimentally produced conduct of persons who are under a

so-called “post-hypnotic suggestion” to perform something after a

certain time.[37] We are accustomed to describe the phenomenon in

the following manner: the suggested intention slumbers in the person

concerned until the time for its execution approaches. Then it awakes

and excites the action.

In two positions of life even the layman is cognizant of the fact

that forgetting referring to intended purposes can in no wise claim

consideration as an elementary phenomenon no further reducible, but

realizes that it ultimately depends on unadmitted motives. I refer

to affairs of love and military service. A lover who is late at the

appointed place will vainly tell his sweetheart that unfortunately

he has entirely forgotten their rendezvous. She will not hesitate

to answer him: “A year ago you would not have forgotten. Evidently

you no longer care for me.” Even if he should grasp the above cited

psychologic explanation, and should wish to excuse his forgetting

on the plea of important business, he would only elicit the answer

from the woman, who has become as keen-sighted as the physician in

the psychoanalytic treatment, “How remarkable that such business

disturbances did not occur before!” Of course the woman does not

wish to deny the possibility of forgetting; but she believes, and

not without reason, that practically the same inference of a certain

unwillingness may be drawn from the unintentional forgetting as from a

conscious subterfuge.

Similarly, in military service no distinction is recognized between

an omission resulting from forgetting and one in consequence of

intentional neglect. And rightly so. The soldier dares forget nothing

that military service demands of him. If he forgets in spite of this,

even when he is acquainted with the demands, then it is due to the fact

that the motives which urge the fulfilment of the military exactions

are opposed by contrary motives. Thus the one year’s volunteer[38] who

at inspection pleads forgetting as an excuse for not having polished

his buttons is sure to be punished. But this punishment is small in

comparison to the one he courts if he admits to his superiors that the

motive for his negligence is because “this miserable menial service is

altogether disgusting to me.” Owing to this saving of punishment for

economic reasons, as it were, he makes use of forgetting as an excuse,

or it comes about as a compromise.

The service of women (as well as the military service of the State)

demands that nothing relating to that service be subject to forgetting.

Thus it but suggests that forgetting is permissible in unimportant

matters, but in weighty matters its occurrence is an indication that

one wishes to treat weighty matters as unimportant: that is, that

their importance is disputed.[39] The view-point of psychic validity

is in fact not to be contested here. No person forgets to carry out

actions that seem important to himself without exposing himself to the

suspicion of being a sufferer from mental weakness. Our investigations

therefore can extend only to the forgetting of more or less secondary

intentions, for no intention do we deem absolutely indifferent,

otherwise it would certainly never have been formed.

As in the preceding functional disturbances, I have collected the cases

of neglect through forgetting which I have observed in myself, and

endeavoured to explain them. I have found that they could invariably

be traced to some interference of unknown and unadmitted motives--or,

as may be said, they were due to a counter-will. In a number of

these cases I found myself in a position similar to that of being in

some distasteful service: I was under a constraint to which I had not

entirely resigned myself, so that I showed my protest in the form of

forgetting. This accounts for the fact that I am particularly prone

to forget to send congratulations on such occasions as birthdays,

jubilees, wedding celebrations, and promotions to higher rank. I

continually make new resolutions, but I am more than ever convinced

that I shall not succeed. I am now on the point of giving it up

altogether, and to admit consciously the striving motives. In a period

of transition, I told a friend who asked me to send a congratulatory

telegram for him, at a certain time when I was to send one myself,

that I would probably forget both. It was not surprising that the

prophecy came true. It is undoubtedly due to painful experiences in

life that I am unable to manifest sympathy where this manifestation

must necessarily appear exaggerated, for the small amount of my feeling

does not admit the corresponding expression. Since I have learned that

I often mistook the pretended sympathy of others for real, I am in

rebellion against the conventions of expressing sympathy, the social

expediency of which I naturally acknowledge. Condolences in cases of

death are excepted from this double treatment; once I determine to

send them I do not neglect them. Where my emotional participation has

nothing more to do with social duty, its expression is never inhibited

by forgetting.

Cases in which we forget to carry out actions which we have promised

to do as a favour for others can similarly be explained as antagonism

to conventional duty and as an unfavourable inward opinion. Here

it regularly proves correct, inasmuch as the only person appealed

to believes in the excusing power of forgetfulness, while the one

requesting the favour has no doubt about the right answer: he has no

interest in this matter, otherwise he would not have forgotten it.

There are some who are noted as generally forgetful, and we

excuse their lapses in the same manner as we excuse those who are

short-sighted when they do not greet us in the street.[40] Such persons

forget all small promises which they have made; they leave unexecuted

all orders which they have received; they prove themselves unreliable

in little things; and at the same time demand that we shall not take

these slight offences amiss--that is, they do not want us to attribute

these failings to personal characteristics but to refer them to an

organic peculiarity.[41] I am not one of these people myself, and have

had no opportunity to analyse the actions of such a person in order to

discover from the selection of forgetting the motive underlying the

same. I cannot forego, however, the conjecture _per analogiam_, that

here the motive is an unusual large amount of unavowed disregard for

others which exploits the constitutional factor for its purpose.[42]

In other cases the motives for forgetting are less easy to discover,

and when found excite greater astonishment. Thus, in former years I

observed that of a great number of professional calls I only forgot

those that I was to make on patients whom I treated gratis or on

colleagues. The mortification caused by this discovery led me to

the habit of noting every morning the calls of the day in a form of

resolution. I do not know if other physicians have come to the same

practice by a similar road. Thus we get an idea of what causes the

so-called neurasthenic to make a memorandum of the communications

he wishes to make to the doctor. He apparently lacks confidence in

the reproductive capacity of his memory. This is true, but the scene

usually proceeds in this manner. The patient has recounted his various

complaints and inquiries at considerable length. After he has finished

he pauses for a moment, then he pulls out the memorandum and says

apologetically, “I have made some notes because I cannot remember

anything.” As a rule he finds nothing new on the memorandum. He repeats

each point and answers it himself: “Yes, I have already asked about

that.” By means of the memorandum he probably only demonstrates one of

his symptoms, the frequency with which his resolutions are disturbed

through the interference of obscure motives.

I am touching, moreover, on an affliction to which even most of my

healthy acquaintances are subject, when I admit that especially in

former years I had the habit of easily forgetting for a long time

to return borrowed books, also that it very often happened that I

deferred payments through forgetfulness. One morning not long ago I

left the tobacco-shop where I make my daily purchase of cigars without

paying. It was a most harmless omission, as I am known there and could

therefore expect to be reminded of my debt the next morning. But

this slight neglect, the attempt to contract a debt, was surely not

unconnected with reflections concerning the budget with which I had

occupied myself throughout the preceding day. Even among the so-called

respectable people one can readily demonstrate a double behaviour when

it concerns the theme of money and possession. The primitive greed of

the suckling which wishes to seize every object (in order to put it in

its mouth) has generally been only imperfectly subdued through culture

and training.[43]

I fear that in all the examples thus far given I have grown quite

commonplace. But it can be only a pleasure to me if I happen upon

familiar matters which every one understands, for my main object is

to collect everyday material and utilize it scientifically. I cannot

conceive why wisdom, which is, so to speak, the sediment of everyday

experiences, should be denied admission among the acquisitions of

knowledge. For it is not the diversity of objects but the stricter

method of verification and the striving for far-reaching connections

which make up the essential character of scientific work.

We have invariably found that intentions of some importance are

forgotten when obscure motives arise to disturb them. In still less

important intentions we find a second mechanism of forgetting. Here

a counter-will becomes transferred to the resolution from something

else after an external association has been formed between the latter

and the content of the resolution. The following example reported by

Brill illustrates this: “A patient found that she had suddenly become

very negligent in her correspondence. She was naturally punctual and

took pleasure in letter-writing, but for the last few weeks she simply

could not bring herself to write a letter without exerting the greatest

amount of effort. The explanation was quite simple. Some weeks before

she had received an important letter calling for a categorical answer.

She was undecided what to say, and therefore did not answer it at all.

This indecision in the form of inhibition was unconsciously transferred

to other letters and caused the inhibition against letter-writing in

general.”

Direct counter-will and more remote motivation are found together in

the following example of delaying: I had written a short treatise on

the dream for the series _Grenzfragen des Nerven- und Seelenlebens_,

in which I gave an abstract of my book, _The Interpretation of

Dreams_.[44] Bergmann, the publisher, had sent me the proof sheets

and asked for a speedy return of the same as he wished to issue the

pamphlet before Christmas. I corrected the sheets the same night, and

placed them on my desk in order to take them to the post office the

next morning. In the morning I forgot all about it, and only thought

of it in the afternoon at the sight of the paper cover on my desk.

In the same way I forgot the proofs that evening and the following

morning, and until the afternoon of the second day, when I quickly

took them to a letter-box, wondering what might be the basis of this

procrastination. Obviously I did not want to send them off, although I

could find no explanation for such an attitude.

After posting the letter I entered the shop of my Vienna publisher,

who put out my _Interpretation of Dreams_. I left a few orders; then,

as if impelled by a sudden thought, said, “You undoubtedly know that

I have written the ‘Dream’ book a second time?” “Ah!” he exclaimed,

“then I must ask you to----” “Calm yourself,” I interposed; “it is only

a short treatise for the Löwenfeld-Kurella collection.” But still he

was not satisfied; he feared that the abstract would hurt the sale of

the book. I disagreed with him, and finally asked: “If I had come to

you before, would you have objected to the publication?” “No; under no

circumstances,” he answered.

Personally I believe I acted within my full rights and did nothing

contrary to the general practice; still it seems certain to me that a

thought similar to that entertained by the publisher was the motive for

my procrastination in dispatching the proof sheets.

This reflection leads back to a former occasion when another publisher

raised some difficulties because I was obliged to take out several

pages of the text from an earlier work on cerebral infantile paralysis,

and put them unchanged into a work on the same theme in Nothnagel’s

handbook. There again the reproach received no recognition; that time

also I had loyally informed my first publisher (the same who published

_The Interpretation of Dreams_) of my intention.

However, if this series of recollections is followed back still farther

it brings to light a still earlier occasion relating to a translation

from the French, in which I really violated the property rights that

should be considered in a publication. I had added notes to the text

without asking the author’s permission, and some years later I had

cause to think that the author was dissatisfied with this arbitrary

action.

There is a proverb which indicates the popular knowledge that the

forgetting of intentions is not accidental. It says: “What one forgets

once he will often forget again.”

Psychopathology of Everyday Life · 第 7 / 17 段