The Theory of Psychoanalysis

by C. G. Jung

The Problems of the Incest-Complex

Freud has a special conception of the incest-complex which has given rise to heated controversy. He starts from the fact that the Œdipus-complex is generally unconscious, and conceives this as the result of a repression of a moral kind. It is possible that I am not expressing myself quite correctly, when I give you Freud’s view in these words. At any rate, according to him the Œdipus-complex seems to be repressed, that is, seems to be removed into the unconscious by a reaction from the conscious tendencies. It almost looks as if the Œdipus-complex would develop into consciousness if the development of the child were to go on without restraint and if no cultural tendencies influenced it. Freud calls this barrier, which prevents the Œdipus-complex from ripening, the incest-barrier. He seems to believe, so far as one can gather from his work, that the incest-barrier is the result of experience, of the selective influence of reality, inasmuch as the unconscious strives without restraint, and in an immediate way, for its own satisfaction, without any consideration for others. This conception is in harmony with the conception of Schopenhauer, who says of the blind world-will that it is so egoistic that a man could slay his brother merely to grease his boots with his brother’s fat. Freud considers that the psychological incest-barrier, as postulated by him, can be compared with the incest-taboo which we find among inferior races. He further believes that these prohibitions are a proof of the fact that men really desired incest, for which reason laws were framed against it even in very primitive cultural stages. He takes the tendency towards incest to be an absolute concrete sexual wish, lacking only the quality of consciousness. He calls this complex the root-complex, or nucleus, of the neuroses, and is inclined, viewing this as the original one, to reduce nearly the whole psychology of the neuroses, as well as many other phenomena in the world of mind, to this complex.

CHAPTER VIII
The Etiology of the Neuroses

With this conception of Freud’s we have to return to the question of the etiology of the neuroses. We have seen that the psychoanalytic theory began with a traumatic event in childhood, which was only later on found to be a phantasy, at least in many cases. In consequence, the theory became modified, and tried to find in the development of abnormal phantasy the main etiological significance. The investigation of the unconscious, made by the collaboration of many workers, carried on over a space of ten years, provided an extensive empirical material, which demonstrated that the incest-complex was the beginning of the morbid phantasies. But it was no longer thought that the incest-complex was a special complex of neurotic people. It was demonstrated to be a constituent of a normal infantile psyche too. We cannot tell, by its mere existence, if this complex will give rise to a neurosis or not. To become pathogenic, it must give rise to a conflict; that is, the complex, which in itself is harmless, has to become dynamic, and thus give rise to a conflict.

Herewith, we come to a new and important question. The whole etiological problem is altered, if the infantile “root-complex” is only a general form, which is not pathogenic in itself, and requires, as we saw in our previous exposition, to be subsequently set in action. Under these circumstances, we dig in vain among the reminiscences of earliest childhood, as they give us only the general forms of the later conflicts, but not the conflict itself.

I believe the best thing I can do is to describe the further development of the theory by demonstrating the case of that young lady whose story you have heard in part in one of the former lectures. You will probably remember that the shying of the horses, by means of the anamnestic explanation, brought back the reminiscence of a comparable scene in childhood. We here discussed the trauma theory. We found that we had to look for the real pathological element in the exaggerated phantasy, which took its origin in a certain retardation of the psychic sexual development. We have now to apply our theoretical standpoint to the origin of this particular type of illness, so that we may understand how, just at that moment, this event of her childhood, which seemed to be of such potency, could come to constellation.

The simplest way to come to an understanding of this important event would be by making an exact inquiry into the circumstances of the moment. The first thing I did was to question the patient about the society in which she had been at that time, and as to what was the farewell gathering to which she had been just before. She had been at a farewell supper, given in honor of her best friend, who was going to a foreign health-resort for a nervous illness. We hear that this friend is happily married, and is the mother of one child. We have some right to doubt this assertion of her happiness. If she were really happily married, she probably would not be nervous and would not need a cure. When I put my question differently, I learned that my patient had been brought back into the host’s house as soon as she was overtaken by her friends, as this house was the nearest place to bring her to in safety. In her exhausted condition she received his hospitality. As the patient came to this part of her history she suddenly broke off, was embarrassed, fidgetted and tried to turn to another subject. Evidently we had now come upon some disagreeable reminiscences, which suddenly presented themselves. After the patient had overcome obstinate resistances, it was admitted that something very remarkable had happened that night. The host made her a passionate declaration of love, thus giving rise to a situation that might well be considered difficult and painful, considering the absence of the hostess. Ostensibly this declaration came like a flash of lightning from a clear sky. A small dose of criticism applied to this assertion will teach us that these things never drop from the clouds, but have always their previous history. It was the work of the following weeks to dig out piecemeal a whole, long love-story.

I can thus roughly describe the picture I got at finally. As a child the patient was thoroughly boyish, loved only turbulent games for boys, laughed at her own sex, and flung aside all feminine ways and occupations. After puberty, the time when the sex-question should have come nearer to her, she began to shun all society; she hated and despised, as it were, everything which could remind her even remotely of the biological destination of mankind, and lived in a world of phantasies which had nothing in common with the rude reality. So she escaped, up to her twenty-fourth year, all the little adventures, hopes and expectations which ordinarily move a woman of this age. (In this respect women are very often remarkably insincere towards themselves and towards the physician.) But she became acquainted with two men who were destined to destroy the thorny hedge which had grown all around her. Mr. A. was the husband of her best friend at the time; Mr. B. was the bachelor-friend of this family. Both were to her taste. It seemed to her pretty soon that Mr. B. was much more sympathetic to her, and from this resulted a more intimate relationship between herself and him, and the possibility of an engagement was discussed. Through her relations with Mr. B., and through her friend, she met Mr. A. frequently. In an inexplicable way his presence very often excited her and made her nervous. Just at this time our friend went to a big party. All her friends were there. She became lost in thought, and played as in a dream with her ring, which suddenly slipped from her hand and rolled under the table. Both men tried to find it, and Mr. B. managed to get it. With an expressive smile he put the ring back on her finger and said: “You know what this means?” At that moment a strange and irresistible feeling came over her, she tore the ring from her finger and threw it out of the open window. Evidently a painful moment ensued, and she soon left the company, feeling deeply depressed. A short time later she found herself, for her holidays, accidentally in the same health-resort where Mr. A. and his wife were staying. Mrs. A. now became more and more nervous, and, as she felt ill, had to stay frequently at home. The patient often went out with Mr. A. alone. One day they were out in a small boat. She was boisterously merry, and suddenly fell overboard. Mr. A. saved her with great difficulty, and lifted her, half unconscious, into the boat. He then kissed her. With this romantic event the bonds were woven fast. To defend herself, our patient tried energetically to get herself engaged to Mr. B., and to imagine that she loved him. Of course this queer play did not escape the sharp eye of feminine jealousy. Mrs. A., her friend, felt the secret, was worried by it, and her nervousness grew proportionately. It became more and more necessary for her to go to a foreign health-resort. The farewell-party was a dangerous opportunity. The patient knew that her friend and rival was going off the same evening, so Mr. A. would be alone. Certainly she did not see this opportunity clearly, as women have the notable capacity “to think” purely emotionally, and not intellectually. For this reason, it seems to them as if they never thought about certain matters at all, but as a matter of fact she had a queer feeling all the evening. She felt extremely nervous, and when Mrs. A. had been accompanied to the station and had gone, the hysterical attack occurred on her way back. I asked her of what she had been thinking, or what she felt at the actual moment when the trotting horses came along. Her answer was, she had only a frightful feeling, the feeling that something dreadful was very near to her, which she could not escape. As you know, the consequence was that the exhausted patient was brought back into the house of the host, Mr. A. A simple human mind would understand the situation without difficulty. An uninitiated person would say: “Well, that is clear enough, she only intended to return by one way or another to Mr. A.’s house,” but the psychologist would reproach this layman for his incorrect way of expressing himself, and would tell him that the patient was not conscious of the motives of her behavior, and that it was, therefore, not permissible to speak of the patient’s intention to return to Mr. A.’s house.

There are, of course, learned psychologists who are capable of furnishing many theoretical reasons for disputing the meaning of this behavior. They base their reasons on the dogma of the identity of consciousness and psyche. The psychology inaugurated by Freud recognized long ago that it is impossible to estimate psychological actions as to their final meaning by conscious motives, but that the objective standard of their psychological results has to be applied for their right evaluation. Now-a-days it cannot be contested any longer that there are unconscious tendencies too, which have a great influence on our modes of reaction, and on the effects to which these in turn give rise. What happened in Mr. A.’s house bears out this observation; our patient made a sentimental scene, and Mr. A. was induced to answer it with a declaration of love. Looked at in the light of this last event, the whole previous history seems to be very ingeniously directed towards just this end, but throughout the conscience of the patient struggled consciously against it. Our theoretical profit from this story is the clear perception that an unconscious purpose or tendency has brought on to the stage the scene of the fright from the horses, utilizing thus very possibly that infantile reminiscence, where the shying horses galloped towards the catastrophe. Reviewing the whole material, the scene with the horses—the starting point of the illness—seems now to be the keystone of a planned edifice. The fright, and the apparent traumatic effect of the event in childhood, are only brought on the stage in the peculiar way characteristic of hysteria. But what is thus put on the stage has become almost a reality. We know from hundreds of experiences that certain hysterical pains are only put on the stage in order to reap certain advantages from the sufferer’s surroundings. The patients not only believe that they suffer, but their sufferings are, from a psychological standpoint, as real as those due to organic causes; nevertheless, they are but stage-effects.