years old, which I remember very well. One evening, before going to bed
I had disregarded the dictates of discretion not to satisfy my wants in
the bedroom of my parents and in their presence, and in his reprimand
for this delinquency my father made the remark: “That boy will never
amount to anything.” It must have terribly mortified my ambition, for
allusions to this scene return again and again in my dreams, and are
regularly coupled with enumerations of my accomplishments and successes,
as though I wanted to say: “You see, I have amounted to something after
all.” Now this childhood scene furnishes the elements for the last image
of the dream, in which of course, the rôles are interchanged for the
sake of revenge. The elderly man, obviously my father, for the blindness
in one eye signifies his glaucoma[BN] on one side is now urinating
before me as I once urinated before him. In glaucoma I refer to cocaine,
which stood my father in good stead in his operation, as though I had
thereby fulfilled my promises. Besides that I make sport of him; since
he is blind I must hold the urinal in front of him, and I gloat over
allusions to my discoveries in the theory of hysteria, of which I am so
proud.[BO]
If the two childhood scenes of urinating are otherwise closely connected
with the desire for greatness, their rehabilitation on the trip to the
Aussee was further favoured by the accidental circumstance that my
compartment had no water-closet, and that I had to expect embarrassment
on the ride as actually happened in the morning. I awoke with the
sensation of a bodily need. I suppose one might be inclined to credit
these sensations with being the actual stimulus of the dream; I should,
however, prefer a different conception—namely, that it was the dream
thoughts which gave rise to the desire to urinate. It is quite unusual
for me to be disturbed in sleep by any need, at least at the time of
this awakening, a quarter of four in the morning. I may forestall
further objection by remarking that I have hardly ever felt a desire to
urinate after awakening early on other journeys made under more
comfortable circumstances. Moreover, I can leave this point undecided
without hurting my argument.
Since I have learned, further, from experience in dream analysis that
there always remain important trains of thought proceeding from dreams
whose interpretation at first seems complete (because the sources of the
dream and the actuation of the wish are easily demonstrable), trains of
thought reaching back into earliest childhood, I have been forced to ask
myself whether this feature does not constitute an essential condition
of dreaming. If I were to generalise this thesis, a connection with what
has been recently experienced would form a part of the manifest content
of every dream and a connection with what has been most remotely
experienced, of its latent content; and I can actually show in the
analysis of hysteria that in a true sense these remote experiences have
remained recent up to the present time. But this conjecture seems still
very difficult to prove; I shall probably have to return to the part
played by the earliest childhood experiences, in another connection
(Chapter VII.).
Of the three peculiarities of dream memory considered at the beginning,
one—the preference for the unimportant in the dream content—has been
satisfactorily explained by tracing it back to dream disfigurement. We
have been able to establish the existence of the other two—the selection
of recent and of infantile material—but we have found it impossible to
explain them by the motive of dream. Let us keep in mind these two
characteristics, which still remain to be explained or evaluated; a
place for them will have to be found elsewhere, either in the psychology
of the sleeping state, or in the discussion of the structure of the
psychic apparatus which we shall undertake later, after we have learned
that the inner nature of the apparatus may be observed through dream
interpretation as though through a window.
Just here I may emphasize another result of the last few dream analyses.
The dream often appears ambiguous; not only may several
wish-fulfilments, as the examples show, be united in it, but one meaning
or one wish-fulfilment may also conceal another, until at the bottom one
comes upon the fulfilment of a wish from the earliest period of
childhood; and here too, it may be questioned whether “often” in this
sentence may not more correctly be replaced by “regularly.”
(_c_) _Somatic Sources of Dreams_
If the attempt be made to interest the cultured layman in the problems
of dreaming, and if, with this end in view, he be asked the question
from what source dreams originate according to his opinion, it is
generally found that the person thus interrogated thinks himself in
assured possession of a part of the solution. He immediately thinks of
the influence which a disturbed or impeded digestion (“Dreams come from
the stomach”), accidental bodily position, and little occurrences during
sleep, exercise upon the formation of dreams, and he seems not to
suspect that even after the consideration of all these factors there
still remains something unexplained.
We have explained at length in the introductory chapter (p. 16), what a
rôle in the formation of dreams the scientific literature credits to the
account of somatic exciting sources, so that we need here only recall
the results of this investigation. We have seen that three kinds of
somatic exciting sources are distinguished, objective sensory stimuli
which proceed from external objects, the inner states of excitation of
the sensory organs having only a subjective basis, and the bodily
stimuli which originate internally; and we have noticed the inclination
on the part of the authors to force the psychic sources of the dream
into the background or to disregard them altogether in favour of these
somatic sources of stimulation (p. 32).
In testing the claims which are made on behalf of these classes of
somatic sources of stimulation, we have discovered that the significance
of the objective stimuli of the sensory organs—whether accidental
stimuli during sleep or those stimuli which cannot be excluded from our
dormant psychic life—has been definitely established by numerous
observations and is confirmed by experiments (p. 18); we have seen that
the part played by subjective sensory stimuli appears to be demonstrated
by the return of hypnogogic sensory images in dreams, and that although
the referring of these dream images and ideas, in the broadest sense, to
internal bodily stimulation is not demonstrable in every detail, it can
be supported by the well-known influence which an exciting state of the
digestive, urinary, and sexual organs exercise upon the contents of our
dreams.
“Nerve stimulus” and “bodily stimulus,” then, would be the somatic
sources of the dream—that is, the only sources whatever of the dream,
according to several authors.
But we have already found a number of doubts, which seem to attack not
so much the correctness of the somatic theory of stimulation as its
adequacy.
However certain all the representatives of this theory may have felt
about the actual facts on which it is based—especially in case of the
accidental and external nerve stimuli, which may be recognised in the
content of the dream without any trouble—nevertheless none of them has
been able to avoid the admission that the abundant ideal content of
dreams does not admit of explanation by external nerve-stimuli alone.
Miss Mary Whiton Calkins[12] has tested her own dreams and those of
another person for a period of six weeks with this idea in mind, and has
found only from 13·2 per cent. to 6·7 per cent. in which the element of
external sensory perception was demonstrable; only two cases in the
collection could be referred to organic sensations. Statistics here
confirm what a hasty glance at our own experience might have led us to
suspect.
The decision has been made repeatedly to distinguish the “dream of nerve
stimulus” from the other forms of the dream as a well-established
sub-species. Spitta[64] divided dreams into dreams of nerve stimulus and
association dreams. But the solution clearly remained unsatisfactory as
long as the link between the somatic sources of dreams and their ideal
content could not be demonstrated.
Besides the first objection, of the inadequate frequency of external
exciting sources, there arises as a second objection the inadequate
explanation of dreams offered by the introduction of this sort of dream
sources. The representatives of the theory accordingly must explain two
things, in the first place, why the external stimulus in the dream is
never recognised according to its real nature, but is regularly mistaken
for something else (_cf._ the alarm-clock dreams, p. 22), and secondly,
why the reaction of the receiving mind to this misrecognised stimulus
should result so indeterminately and changefully. As an answer to these
questions, we have heard from Strümpell[66] that the mind, as a result
of its being turned away from the outer world during sleep, is not
capable of giving correct interpretation to the objective sensory
stimulus, but is forced to form illusions on the basis of the indefinite
incitements from many directions. As expressed in his own words (p.
108):
“As soon as a sensation, a sensational complex, a feeling, or a psychic
process in general, arises in the mind during sleep from an outer or
inner nerve-stimulus, and is perceived by the mind, this process calls
up sensory images, that is to say, earlier perceptions, either
unembellished or with the psychic values belonging to them, from the
range of waking experiences, of which the mind has remained in
possession. It seems to collect about itself, as it were, a greater or
less number of such images, from which the impression which originates
from the nerve-stimulus receives its psychic value. It is usually said
here, as the idiom does of waking thought, that the mind _interprets_
impressions of nerve-stimuli in sleep. The result of this interpretation
is the so-called nerve-stimulus dream—that is to say, a dream whose
composition is conditioned by the fact that a nerve-stimulus brings
about its effect in psychic life according to the laws of reproduction.”
The opinion of Wundt[76] agrees in all essentials with this theory. He
says that the ideas in the dream are probably the result, for the most
part, of sensory stimuli, especially of those of general sensation, and
are therefore mostly phantastic illusions—probably memory presentations
which are only partly pure, and which have been raised to
hallucinations. Strümpell has found an excellent simile (p. 84). It is
as “if the ten fingers of a person ignorant of music should stray over
the keyboard of an instrument”—to illustrate the relation between dream
content and dream stimuli, which follows from this theory. The
implication is that the dream does not appear as a psychic phenomenon,
originating from psychic motives, but as the result of a physiological
stimulus, which is expressed in psychic symptomology, because the
apparatus which is affected by the stimulus is not capable of any other
expression. Upon a similar assumption is based, for example, the
explanation of compulsive ideas which Meynert tried to give by means of
the famous simile of the dial on which individual figures are prominent
because they are in more marked relief.
However popular this theory of somatic dream stimuli may have become,
and however seductive it may seem, it is nevertheless easy to show the
weak point in it. Every somatic dream stimulus which provokes the
psychic apparatus to interpretation through the formation of illusions,
is capable of giving rise to an incalculable number of such attempts at
interpretation; it can thus attain representation in the dream content
by means of an extraordinary number of different ideas. But the theory
of Strümpell and Wundt is incapable of instancing any motive which has
control over the relation between the external stimulus and the dream
idea which has been selected to interpret it, and therefore of
explaining the “peculiar choice” which the stimuli “often enough make in
the course of their reproductive activity” (Lipps, _Grundtatsachen des
Seelenlebens_, p. 170). Other objections may be directed against the
fundamental assumption of the whole theory of illusions—the assumption
that during sleep the mind is not in a condition to recognise the real
nature of the objective sensory stimuli. The old physiologist Burdach[8]
proves to us that the mind is quite capable even during sleep of
interpreting correctly the sensory impressions which reach it, and of
reacting in accordance with the correct interpretation. He establishes
this by showing that it is possible to exempt certain impressions which
seem important to the individuals, from the neglect of sleeping (nurse
and child), and that one is more surely awakened by one’s own name than
by an indifferent auditory impression, all of which presupposes, of
course, that the mind distinguishes among sensations, even in sleep
(Chapter I., p. 41). Burdach infers from these observations that it is
not an incapability of interpreting sensory stimuli in the sleeping
state which must be assumed, but a lack of interest in them. The same
arguments which Burdach used in 1830, later reappear unchanged in the
works of Lipps in the year 1883, where they are employed for the purpose
of attacking the theory of somatic stimuli. According to this the mind
seems to be like the sleeper in the anecdote, who, upon being asked,
“Are you asleep?” answers “No,” and upon being again addressed with the
words, “Then lend me ten florins,” takes refuge in the excuse: “I am
asleep.”
The inadequacy of the theory of somatic dream stimuli may also be
demonstrated in another manner. Observations show that I am not urged to
dream by external stimulations, even if these stimulations appear in the
dream as soon as, and in case that, I dream. In response to the tactile
or pressure stimulus which I get while sleeping, various reactions are
at my disposal. I can overlook it and discover only upon awakening that
my leg has been uncovered or my arm under pressure; pathology shows the
most numerous examples where powerfully acting sensory and motor stimuli
of different sorts remain without effect during sleep. I can perceive a
sensation during sleep through and through sleep, as it were, which
happens as a rule with painful stimuli, but without weaving the pain
into the texture of the dream; thirdly, I can awaken on account of the
stimulus in order to obviate it. Only as a fourth possible reaction, I
may be impelled to dream by a nerve stimulus; but the other
possibilities are realised at least as often as that of dream formation.
This could not be the case if the _motive for dreaming did not lie
outside of the somatic sources of dreams_.
Taking proper account of the defect in the explanation of dreams by
somatic stimuli which has just been shown, other authors—Scherner,[58]
who was joined by the philosopher Volkelt[72]—have tried to determine
more exactly the psychic activities which cause the variegated dream
images to arise from the somatic stimuli, and have thus transferred the
essential nature of dreams back to the province of the mind, and to that
of psychic activity. Scherner not only gave a poetically appreciative,
glowing and vivid description of the psychic peculiarities which develop
in the course of dream formation; he also thought he had guessed the
principle according to which the mind proceeds with the stimuli that are
at its disposal. The dream activity, according to Scherner—after
phantasy has been freed from the shackles imposed upon it during the
day, and has been given free rein—strives to represent symbolically the
nature of the organ from which the stimulus proceeds. Thus we have a
kind of dream-book as a guide for the interpretation of dreams, by means
of which bodily sensations, the conditions of the organs and of the
stimuli may be inferred from dream images. “Thus the image of a cat
expresses an angry discontented mood, the image of a light-coloured bit
of smooth pastry the nudity of the body. The human body as a whole is
pictured as a house by the phantasy of the dream, and each individual
organ of the body as a part of the house. In ‘toothache-dreams’ a high
vaulted vestibule corresponds to the mouth and a stair to the descent of
the gullet to the alimentary canal; in the ‘headache-dream’ the ceiling
of a room which is covered with disgusting reptile-like spiders is
chosen to denote the upper part of the head” (Volkelt, p. 39). “Several
different symbols are used by the dream for the same organ, thus the
breathing lungs find their symbol in an oven filled with flames and with
a roaring draught, the heart in hollow chests and baskets, and the
bladder in round, bag-shaped objects or anything else hollow. It is
especially important that at the end of a dream the stimulating organ or
its function be represented undisguised and usually on the dreamer’s own
body. Thus the ‘toothache-dream’ usually ends by the dreamer drawing a
tooth from his own mouth” (p. 35). It cannot be said that this theory
has found much favour with the authors. Above all, it seems extravagant;
there has been no inclination even to discover the small amount of
justification to which it may, in my opinion, lay claim. As may be seen,
it leads to a revival of the dream interpretation by means of symbolism,
which the ancients used, except that the source from which the
interpretation is to be taken is limited to the human body. The lack of
a technique of interpretation which is scientifically comprehensible
must seriously limit the applicability of Scherner’s theory.
Arbitrariness in dream interpretation seems in no wise excluded,
especially since a stimulus may be expressed by several representations
in the content of the dream; thus Scherner’s associate, Volkelt, has
already found it impossible to confirm the representation of the body as
a house. Another objection is that here again dream activity is
attributed to the mind as a useless and aimless activity, since
according to the theory in question the mind is content with forming
phantasies about the stimulus with which it is concerned, without even
remotely contemplating anything like a discharge of the stimulus.
But Scherner’s theory of the symbolisation of bodily stimuli by the
dream receives a heavy blow from another objection. These bodily stimuli
are present at all times, and according to general assumption the mind
is more accessible to them during sleep than in waking. It is thus
incomprehensible why the mind does not dream continually throughout the
night, and why it does not dream every night and about all the organs.
If one attempts to avoid this objection by making the condition that
especial stimuli must proceed from the eye, the ear, the teeth, the
intestines in order to arouse dream activity, one is confronted by the
difficulty of proving that this increase of stimulation is objective,
which is possible only in a small number of cases. If the dream of
flying is a symbolisation of the upward and downward motion of the
pulmonary lobes, either this dream, as has already been remarked by
Strümpell, would be dreamt much oftener, or an accentuation of the
function of breathing during the dream would have to be demonstrable.
Still another case is possible—the most probable of all—that now and
then special motives directing attention to the visceral sensations
which are universally present are active, but this case takes us beyond
the range of Scherner’s theory.
The value of Scherner’s and Volkelt’s discussions lies in the fact that
they call attention to a number of characteristics of the dream content
which are in need of explanation, and which seem to promise new
knowledge. It is quite true that symbolisations of organs of the body
and of their functions are contained in dreams, that water in a dream
often signifies a desire to urinate, that the male genital may often be
represented by a staff standing erect or by a pillar, &c. In dreams
which show a very animated field of vision and brilliant colours, in
contrast to the dimness of other dreams, the interpretation may hardly
be dismissed that they are “dreams of visual stimulation,” any more than
it may be disputed that there is a contribution of illusory formations
in dreams which contain noise and confusion of voices. A dream like that
of Scherner, of two rows of fair handsome boys standing opposite to each
other on a bridge, attacking each other and then taking their places
again, until finally the dreamer himself sits down on the bridge and
pulls a long tooth out of his jaw; or a similar one of Volkelt’s, in
which two rows of drawers play a part, and which again ends in the
extraction of a tooth; dream formations of this sort, which are related
in great numbers by the authors, prevent our discarding Scherner’s
theory as an idle fabrication without seeking to find its kernel of
truth. We are now confronted by the task of giving the supposed
symbolisation of the dental stimulus an explanation of a different kind.
Throughout our consideration of the theory of the somatic sources of
dreams, I have refrained from urging the argument which is inferred from
our dream analyses. If we have succeeded in proving, by a procedure
which other authors have not applied in their investigation of dreams,
that the dream as a psychic action possesses value peculiar to itself,
that a wish supplies the motive for its formation, and that the
experiences of the previous day furnish the immediate material for its
content, any other theory of dreams neglecting such an important method
of investigation, and accordingly causing the dream to appear a useless
and problematic psychic reaction to somatic stimuli, is dismissible
without any particular comment. Otherwise there must be—which is highly
improbable—two entirely different kinds of dreams, of which only one has
come under our observation, while only the other has been observed by
the earlier connoisseurs of the dream. It still remains to provide a
place for the facts which are used to support the prevailing theory of
somatic dream-stimuli, within our own theory of dreams.