On attempting to hypnotize Miss Lucy R. she did not merge into the somnambulic state. I therefore was obliged to forego somnambulism and the analysis was made while she was in a state not perhaps differing much from the normal.
I feel obliged to express myself more fully about the point of the technique of my procedure. While visiting the Nancy clinics in 1889 I heard Dr. Liébeault, the old master of hypnotism, say, “Yes, if we had the means to put everybody into the somnambulic state, hypnotism would then be the most powerful therapeutic agent.” In Bernheim’s clinic it almost seemed that such an art really existed and that it could be learned from Bernheim. But as soon as I tried to practice it on my own patients I noticed that at least my powers were quite limited in this respect. Whenever a patient did not merge into the somnambulistic state after one to three attempts I possessed no means to force him into it. However, the percentage of somnambulists in my experience were far below that claimed by Bernheim.
Thus I had my choice, either to forbear using the cathartic method in most of the cases suitable for it, or to venture the attempt without somnambulism by using hypnotic influence in light or even doubtful cases. It made no difference of what degree (following the accepted scales of hypnotism) the hypnotism was which did not correspond to somnambulism, for every direction of suggestibility is independent of the other and nothing is prejudicial towards the evocation of catalepsy, automatic movements and similar phenomena for the purpose of facilitating the awakening of forgotten recollections. I soon relinquished the habit of deciding the degree of hypnotism, as in a great number of cases it incited the patients’ resistance, and clouded the confidence which I needed for the more important psychic work. Moreover, in mild grades of hypnotism I soon tired of hearing, after the assurance and command, “You will sleep, sleep now!” such protests as, “But, Doctor, I am not sleeping.” I was then forced to bring in the very delicate distinction, saying, “I do not mean the usual sleep, I mean the hypnotic,—you see, you are hypnotized, you cannot open your eyes”; or, “I really don’t want you to sleep.” I, myself, am convinced that many of my colleagues using psychotherapy know how to get out of such difficulties more skilfully than I; they can proceed differently. I, however, believe that if through the use of a word one can so frequently become embarrassed, it is better to avoid the word and the embarrassment. Wherever the first attempt did not produce either somnambulism or a degree of hypnotism with pronounced bodily changes, I dropped the hypnosis and demanded only “concentration,” I ordered the patient to lie on his back and close his eyes as a means of reaching this “concentration.” With little effort I obtained as profound a degree of hypnotism as was possible.
But inasmuch as I forbore using somnambulism, I perhaps robbed myself of a preliminary stipulation without which the cathartic method seems inapplicable. For it is based on the fact that in the altered state of consciousness the patients have at their disposal such recollections and recognize such connections which do not apparently exist in their normal conscious state. Wherever the somnambulic broadening of consciousness lacks there must also be an absence of the possibility of bringing about a causal relation which the patient cannot give to the doctor as something known to him, and it is just the pathogenic recollections “which are lacking from the memory of the patients in their usual psychic states or only exist in a most condensed state” (preliminary communication).
My memory helped me out of this embarrassment. I, myself, saw Bernheim adduce proof that the recollections of somnambulism are only manifestly forgotten in the waking state and can be readily reproduced by slight urging accompanied by hand pressure which is supposed to mark another conscious state. He, for instance, imparted to a somnambulist the negative hallucination that he was no more present, and then attempted to make himself noticeable to her by the most manifold and regardless attacks, but was unsuccessful. After the patient was awakened he asked her what he did to her during the time that she thought he was not there. She replied very much astonished, that she knew nothing, but he did not give in, insisting that she would recall everything; and placed his hand on her forehead so that she should recall things, and behold, she finally related all that she did not apparently perceive in the somnambulic state and about which she ostensibly knew nothing in the waking state.
This astonishing and instructive experiment was my model. I decided to proceed on the supposition that my patients knew everything that was of any pathogenic significance, and that all that was necessary was to force them to impart it. When I reached a point where to the question “Since when have you this symptom?” or, “Where does it come from?” I receive the answer, “I really don’t know this,” I proceeded as follows: I placed my hand on the patient’s forehead or took her head between my hands and said, “Under the pressure of my hand it will come into your mind. In the moment that I stop the pressure you will see something before you, or something will pass through your mind which you must note. It is that which we are seeking. Well, what have you seen or what came into your mind?”
On applying this method for the first time (it was not in the case of Miss Lucy R.) I was surprised to find just what I wanted, and I may say that it has since hardly ever failed me, it always showed me the way to proceed in my investigations and enabled me to conclude all such analyses without somnambulism. Gradually I became so bold that when a patient would answer, “I see nothing,” or “Nothing came into my mind,” I insisted that it was impossible. They probably had the right thought but did not believe it and repudiated it. I would repeat the procedure as often as they wished, and every time they saw the same thing. Indeed, I was always right; the patients had not as yet learned to let their criticism rest. They repudiated the emerging recollection or fancy because they considered it as a useless intruding disturbance, but after they imparted it, it was always shown that it was the right one. Occasionally after forcing a communication by pressing the head three or four times I got such answer as, “Yes, I was aware of it the first time, but did not wish to say it,” or, “I hoped that it would not be this.”
By this method it was far more laborious to broaden the alleged narrowed consciousness than by investigating in the somnambulic state, but it made me independent of somnambulism and afforded me an insight into the motives which are frequently decisive for the “forgetting” of recollections. I am in position to assert that this forgetting is often intentional and desired. It is always only manifestly successful.
It appeared to me even more remarkable that apparently long forgotten numbers and dates can be reproduced by a similar process, thus proving an unexpected faithfulness of memory.
The insignificant choice which one has in searching for numbers and dates especially allows us to take to our aid the familiar axiom of the theory of aphasia, namely, that recognition is a slighter accomplishment of memory than spontaneous recollection.