Now the meaning of the dream is clear. I may say to the patient: “It is

just as though you had thought at the time of the request: ‘Of course,

I’ll invite you, so you can eat yourself fat at my house and become

still more pleasing to my husband. I would rather give no more suppers.’

The dream then tells you that you cannot give a supper, thereby

fulfilling your wish not to contribute anything to the rounding out of

your friend’s figure. The resolution of your husband to refuse

invitations to supper for the sake of getting thin teaches you that one

grows fat on the things served in company.” Now only some conversation

is necessary to confirm the solution. The smoked salmon in the dream has

not yet been traced. “How did the salmon mentioned in the dream occur to

you?” “Smoked salmon is the favourite dish of this friend,” she

answered. I happen to know the lady, and may corroborate this by saying

that she grudges herself the salmon just as much as my patient grudges

herself the caviare.

The dream admits of still another and more exact interpretation, which

is necessitated only by a subordinate circumstance. The two

interpretations do not contradict one another, but rather cover each

other and furnish a neat example of the usual ambiguity of dreams as

well as of all other psychopathological formations. We have seen that at

the same time that she dreams of the denial of the wish, the patient is

in reality occupied in securing an unfulfilled wish (the caviare

sandwiches). Her friend, too, had expressed a wish, namely, to get

fatter, and it would not surprise us if our lady had dreamt that the

wish of the friend was not being fulfilled. For it is her own wish that

a wish of her friend’s—for increase in weight—should not be fulfilled.

Instead of this, however, she dreams that one of her own wishes is not

fulfilled. The dream becomes capable of a new interpretation, if in the

dream she does not intend herself, but her friend, if she has put

herself in the place of her friend, or, as we may say, has identified

herself with her friend.

I think she has actually done this, and as a sign of this identification

she has created an unfulfilled wish in reality. But what is the meaning

of this hysterical identification? To clear this up a thorough

exposition is necessary. Identification is a highly important factor in

the mechanism of hysterical symptoms; by this means patients are enabled

in their symptoms to represent not merely their own experiences, but the

experiences of a great number of other persons, and can suffer, as it

were, for a whole mass of people, and fill all the parts of a drama by

means of their own personalities alone. It will here be objected that

this is well-known hysterical imitation, the ability of hysteric

subjects to copy all the symptoms which impress them when they occur in

others, as though their pity were stimulated to the point of

reproduction. But this only indicates the way in which the psychic

process is discharged in hysterical imitation; the way in which a

psychic act proceeds and the act itself are two different things. The

latter is slightly more complicated than one is apt to imagine the

imitation of hysterical subjects to be: it corresponds to an unconscious

concluded process, as an example will show. The physician who has a

female patient with a particular kind of twitching, lodged in the

company of other patients in the same room of the hospital, is not

surprised when some morning he learns that this peculiar hysterical

attack has found imitations. He simply says to himself: The others have

seen her and have done likewise: that is psychic infection. Yes, but

psychic infection proceeds in somewhat the following manner: As a rule,

patients know more about one another than the physician knows about each

of them, and they are concerned about each other when the visit of the

doctor is over. Some of them have an attack to-day: soon it is known

among the rest that a letter from home, a return of love-sickness or the

like, is the cause of it. Their sympathy is aroused, and the following

syllogism, which does not reach consciousness, is completed in them: “If

it is possible to have this kind of an attack from such causes, I too

may have this kind of an attack, for I have the same reasons.” If this

were a cycle capable of becoming conscious, it would perhaps express

itself in _fear_ of getting the same attack; but it takes place in

another psychic sphere, and, therefore, ends in the realisation of the

dreaded symptom. Identification is therefore not a simple imitation, but

a sympathy based upon the same etiological claim; it expresses an “as

though,” and refers to some common quality which has remained in the

unconscious.

Identification is most often used in hysteria to express sexual

community. An hysterical woman identifies herself most readily—although

not exclusively—with persons with whom she has had sexual relations, or

who have sexual intercourse with the same persons as herself. Language

takes such a conception into consideration: two lovers are “one.” In the

hysterical phantasy, as well as in the dream, it is sufficient for the

identification if one thinks of sexual relations, whether or not they

become real. The patient, then, only follows the rules of the hysterical

thought processes when she gives expression to her jealousy of her

friend (which, moreover, she herself admits to be unjustified, in that

she puts herself in her place and identifies herself with her by

creating a symptom—the denied wish). I might further clarify the process

specifically as follows: She puts herself in the place of her friend in

the dream, because her friend has taken her own place in relation to her

husband, and because she would like to take her friend’s place in the

esteem of her husband.[AJ]

The contradiction to my theory of dreams in the case of another female

patient, the most witty among all my dreamers, was solved in a simpler

manner, although according to the scheme that the non-fulfilment of one

wish signifies the fulfilment of another. I had one day explained to her

that the dream is a wish-fulfilment. The next day she brought me a dream

to the effect that she was travelling with her mother-inlaw to their

common summer resort. Now I knew that she had struggled violently

against spending the summer in the neighbourhood of her mother-in-law. I

also knew that she had luckily avoided her mother-in-law by renting an

estate in a far-distant country resort. Now the dream reversed this

wished-for solution; was not this in the flattest contradiction to my

theory of wish-fulfilment in the dream? Certainly, it was only necessary

to draw the inferences from this dream in order to get at its

interpretation. According to this dream, I was in the wrong. _It was

thus her wish that I should be in the wrong, and this wish the dream

showed her as fulfilled._ But the wish that I should be in the wrong,

which was fulfilled in the theme of the country home, referred to a more

serious matter. At that time I had made up my mind, from the material

furnished by her analysis, that something of significance for her

illness must have occurred at a certain time in her life. She had denied

it because it was not present in her memory. We soon came to see that I

was in the right. Her wish that I should be in the wrong, which is

transformed into the dream, thus corresponded to the justifiable wish

that those things, which at the time had only been suspected, had never

occurred at all.

Without an analysis, and merely by means of an assumption, I took the

liberty of interpreting a little occurrence in the case of a friend, who

had been my colleague through the eight classes of the Gymnasium. He

once heard a lecture of mine delivered to a small assemblage, on the

novel subject of the dream as the fulfilment of a wish. He went home,

dreamt _that he had lost all his suits_—he was a lawyer—and then

complained to me about it. I took refuge in the evasion: “One can’t win

all one’s suits,” but I thought to myself: “If for eight years I sat as

Primus on the first bench, while he moved around somewhere in the middle

of the class, may he not naturally have had a wish from his boyhood days

that I, too, might for once completely disgrace myself?”

In the same way another dream of a more gloomy character was offered me

by a female patient as a contradiction to my theory of the wish-dream.

The patient, a young girl, began as follows: “You remember that my

sister has now only one boy, Charles: she lost the elder one, Otto,

while I was still at her house. Otto was my favourite; it was I who

really brought him up. I like the other little fellow, too, but of

course not nearly as much as the dead one. Now I dreamt last night that

_I saw Charles lying dead before me_. _He was lying in his little

coffin, his hands folded: there were candles all about, and, in short,

it was just like the time of little Otto’s death, which shocked me so

profoundly._ Now tell me, what does this mean? You know me: am I really

bad enough to wish my sister to lose the only child she has left? Or

does the dream mean that I wish Charles to be dead rather than Otto,

whom I like so much better?”

I assured her that this interpretation was impossible. After some

reflection I was able to give her the interpretation of the dream, which

I subsequently made her confirm.

Having become an orphan at an early age, the girl had been brought up in

the house of a much older sister, and had met among the friends and

visitors who came to the house, a man who made a lasting impression upon

her heart. It looked for a time as though these barely expressed

relations were to end in marriage, but this happy culmination was

frustrated by the sister, whose motives have never found a complete

explanation. After the break, the man who was loved by our patient

avoided the house: she herself became independent some time after little

Otto’s death, to whom her affection had now turned. But she did not

succeed in freeing herself from the inclination for her sister’s friend

in which she had become involved. Her pride commanded her to avoid him;

but it was impossible for her to transfer her love to the other suitors

who presented themselves in order. Whenever the man whom she loved, who

was a member of the literary profession, announced a lecture anywhere,

she was sure to be found in the audience; she also seized every other

opportunity to see him from a distance unobserved by him. I remembered

that on the day before she had told me that the Professor was going to a

certain concert, and that she was also going there, in order to enjoy

the sight of him. This was on the day of the dream; and the concert was

to take place on the day on which she told me the dream. I could now

easily see the correct interpretation, and I asked her whether she could

think of any event which had happened after the death of little Otto.

She answered immediately: “Certainly; at that time the Professor

returned after a long absence, and I saw him once more beside the coffin

of little Otto.” It was exactly as I had expected. I interpreted the

dream in the following manner: If now the other boy were to die, the

same thing would be repeated. You would spend the day with your sister,

the Professor would surely come in order to offer condolence, and you

would see him again under the same circumstances as at that time. The

dream signifies nothing but this wish of yours to see him again, against

which you are fighting inwardly. I know that you are carrying the ticket

for to-day’s concert in your bag. Your dream is a dream of impatience;

it has anticipated the meeting which is to take place to-day by several

hours.

In order to disguise her wish she had obviously selected a situation in

which wishes of that sort are commonly suppressed—a situation which is

so filled with sorrow that love is not thought of. And yet, it is very

easily probable that even in the actual situation at the bier of the

second, more dearly loved boy, which the dream copied faithfully, she

had not been able to suppress her feelings of affection for the visitor

whom she had missed for so long a time.

A different explanation was found in the case of a similar dream of

another female patient, who was distinguished in her earlier years by

her quick wit and her cheerful demeanour, and who still showed these

qualities at least in the notions which occurred to her in the course of

treatment. In connection with a longer dream, it seemed to this lady

that she saw her fifteen-year-old daughter lying dead before her in a

box. She was strongly inclined to convert this dream-image into an

objection to the theory of wish-fulfilment, but herself suspected that

the detail of the box must lead to a different conception of the

dream.[AK] In the course of the analysis it occurred to her that on the

evening before, the conversation of the company had turned upon the

English word “box,” and upon the numerous translations of it into

German, such as box, theatre box, chest, box on the ear, &c. From other

components of the same dream it is now possible to add that the lady had

guessed the relationship between the English word “box” and the German

_Büchse_, and had then been haunted by the memory that _Büchse_ (as well

as “box”) is used in vulgar speech to designate the female genital

organ. It was therefore possible, making a certain allowance for her

notions on the subject of topographical anatomy, to assume that the

child in the box signified a child in the womb of the mother. At this

stage of the explanation she no longer denied that the picture of the

dream really corresponded to one of her wishes. Like so many other young

women, she was by no means happy when she became pregnant, and admitted

to me more than once the wish that her child might die before its birth;

in a fit of anger following a violent scene with her husband she had

even struck her abdomen with her fists in order to hit the child within.

The dead child was, therefore, really the fulfilment of a wish, but a

wish which had been put aside for fifteen years, and it is not

surprising that the fulfilment of the wish was no longer recognised

after so long an interval. For there had been many changes meanwhile.

The group of dreams to which the two last mentioned belong, having as

content the death of beloved relatives, will be considered again under

the head of “Typical Dreams.” I shall there be able to show by new

examples that in spite of their undesirable content, all these dreams

must be interpreted as wish-fulfilments. For the following dream, which

again was told me in order to deter me from a hasty generalisation of

the theory of wishing in dreams, I am indebted, not to a patient, but to

an intelligent jurist of my acquaintance. “_I dream_,” my informant

tells me, “_that I am walking in front of my house with a lady on my

arm_. _Here a closed wagon is waiting, a gentleman steps up to me, gives

his authority as an agent of the police, and demands that I should

follow him. I only ask for time in which to arrange my affairs._ Can you

possibly suppose this is a wish of mine to be arrested?” “Of course

not,” I must admit. “Do you happen to know upon what charge you were

arrested?” “Yes; I believe for infanticide.” “Infanticide? But you know

that only a mother can commit this crime upon her newly born child?”

“That is true.”[AL] “And under what circumstances did you dream; what

happened on the evening before?” “I would rather not tell you that; it

is a delicate matter.” “But I must have it, otherwise we must forgo the

interpretation of the dream.” “Well, then, I will tell you. I spent the

night, not at home, but at the house of a lady who means very much to

me. When we awoke in the morning, something again passed between us.

Then I went to sleep again, and dreamt what I have told you.” “The woman

is married?” “Yes.” “And you do not wish her to conceive a child?” “No;

that might betray us.” “Then you do not practise normal coitus?” “I take

the precaution to withdraw before ejaculation.” “Am I permitted to

assume that you did this trick several times during the night, and that

in the morning you were not quite sure whether you had succeeded?” “That

might be the case.” “Then your dream is the fulfilment of a wish. By

means of it you secure the assurance that you have not begotten a child,

or, what amounts to the same thing, that you have killed a child. I can

easily demonstrate the connecting links. Do you remember, a few days ago

we were talking about the distress of matrimony (Ehenot), and about the

inconsistency of permitting the practice of coitus as long as no

impregnation takes place, while every delinquency after the ovum and the

semen meet and a fœtus is formed is punished as a crime? In connection

with this, we also recalled the mediæval controversy about the moment of

time at which the soul is really lodged in the fœtus, since the concept

of murder becomes admissible only from that point on. Doubtless you also

know the gruesome poem by Lenau, which puts infanticide and the

prevention of children on the same plane.” “Strangely enough, I had

happened to think of Lenau during the afternoon.” “Another echo of your

dream. And now I shall demonstrate to you another subordinate

wish-fulfilment in your dream. You walk in front of your house with the

lady on your arm. So you take her home, instead of spending the night at

her house, as you do in actuality. The fact that the wish-fulfilment,

which is the essence of the dream, disguises itself in such an

unpleasant form, has perhaps more than one reason. From my essay on the

etiology of anxiety neuroses, you will see that I note interrupted

coitus as one of the factors which cause the development of neurotic

fear. It would be consistent with this that if after repeated

cohabitation of the kind mentioned you should be left in an

uncomfortable mood, which now becomes an element in the composition of

your dream. You also make use of this unpleasant state of mind to

conceal the wish-fulfilment. Furthermore, the mention of infanticide has

not yet been explained. Why does this crime, which is peculiar to

females, occur to you?” “I shall confess to you that I was involved in

such an affair years ago. Through my fault a girl tried to protect

herself from the consequences of a _liaison_ with me by securing an

abortion. I had nothing to do with carrying out the plan, but I was

naturally for a long time worried lest the affair might be discovered.”

“I understand; this recollection furnished a second reason why the

supposition that you had done your trick badly must have been painful to

you.”

A young physician, who had heard this dream of my colleague when it was

told, must have felt implicated by it, for he hastened to imitate it in

a dream of his own, applying its mode of thinking to another subject.

The day before he had handed in a declaration of his income, which was

perfectly honest, because he had little to declare. He dreamt that an

acquaintance of his came from a meeting of the tax commission and

informed him that all the other declarations of income had passed

uncontested, but that his own had awakened general suspicion, and that

he would be punished with a heavy fine. The dream is a poorly-concealed

fulfilment of the wish to be known as a physician with a large income.

It likewise recalls the story of the young girl who was advised against

accepting her suitor because he was a man of quick temper who would

surely treat her to blows after they were married. The answer of the

girl was: “I wish he _would_ strike me!” Her wish to be married is so

strong that she takes into the bargain the discomfort which is said to

be connected with matrimony, and which is predicted for her, and even

raises it to a wish.

If I group the very frequently occurring dreams of this sort, which seem

flatly to contradict my theory, in that they contain the denial of a

wish or some occurrence decidedly unwished for, under the head of

“counter wish-dreams,” I observe that they may all be referred to two

principles, of which one has not yet been mentioned, although it plays a

large part in the dreams of human beings. One of the motives inspiring

these dreams is the wish that I should appear in the wrong. These dreams

regularly occur in the course of my treatment if the patient shows a

resistance against me, and I can count with a large degree of certainty

upon causing such a dream after I have once explained to the patient my

theory that the dream is a wish-fulfilment.[AM] I may even expect this

to be the case in a dream merely in order to fulfil the wish that I may

appear in the wrong. The last dream which I shall tell from those

occurring in the course of treatment again shows this very thing. A

young girl who has struggled hard to continue my treatment, against the

will of her relatives and the authorities whom she has consulted, dreams

as follows: _She is forbidden at home to come to me any more. She then

reminds me of the promise I made her to treat her for nothing if

necessary, and I say to her: “I can show no consideration in money

matters.”_

It is not at all easy in this case to demonstrate the fulfilment of a

wish, but in all cases of this kind there is a second problem, the

solution of which helps also to solve the first. Where does she get the

words which she puts into my mouth? Of course I have never told her

anything like that, but one of her brothers, the very one who has the

greatest influence over her, has been kind enough to make this remark

about me. It is then the purpose of the dream that this brother should

remain in the right; and she does not try to justify this brother merely

in the dream; it is her purpose in life and the motive for her being

ill.

The other motive for counter wish-dreams is so clear that there is

danger of overlooking it, as for some time happened in my own case. In

the sexual make-up of many people there is a masochistic component,

which has arisen through the conversion of the aggressive, sadistic

component into its opposite. Such people are called “ideal” masochists,

if they seek pleasure not in the bodily pain which may be inflicted upon

them, but in humiliation and in chastisement of the soul. It is obvious

that such persons can have counter wish-dreams and disagreeable dreams,

which, however, for them are nothing but wish-fulfilments, affording

satisfaction for their masochistic inclinations. Here is such a dream. A

young man, who has in earlier years tormented his elder brother, towards

whom he was homosexually inclined, but who has undergone a complete

change of character, has the following dream, which consists of three

parts: (1) _He is “insulted” by his brother._ (2) _Two adults are

caressing each other with homosexual intentions._ (3) _His brother has

sold the enterprise whose management the young man reserved for his own

future._ He awakens from the last-mentioned dream with the most

unpleasant feelings, and yet it is a masochistic wish-dream, which might

be translated: It would serve me quite right if my brother were to make

that sale against my interest, as a punishment for all the torments

which he has suffered at my hands.

I hope that the above discussion and examples will suffice—until further

objection can be raised—to make it seem credible that even dreams with a

painful content are to be analysed as the fulfilments of wishes. Nor

will it seem a matter of chance that in the course of interpretation one

always happens upon subjects of which one does not like to speak or

think. The disagreeable sensation which such dreams arouse is simply

identical with the antipathy which endeavours—usually with success—to

restrain us from the treatment or discussion of such subjects, and which

must be overcome by all of us, if, in spite of its unpleasantness, we

find it necessary to take the matter in hand. But this disagreeable

sensation, which occurs also in dreams, does not preclude the existence

of a wish; everyone has wishes which he would not like to tell to

others, which he does not want to admit even to himself. We are, on

other grounds, justified in connecting the disagreeable character of all

these dreams with the fact of dream disfigurement, and in concluding

that these dreams are distorted, and that the wish-fulfilment in them is

disguised until recognition is impossible for no other reason than that

a repugnance, a will to suppress, exists in relation to the

subject-matter of the dream or in relation to the wish which the dream

creates. Dream disfigurement, then, turns out in reality to be an act of

the censor. We shall take into consideration everything which the

analysis of disagreeable dreams has brought to light if we reword our

formula as follows: _The dream is the (disguised) fulfilment of a

(suppressed, repressed) wish._[AN]

The Interpretation of Dreams · 第 12 / 50 段