HISTORICALLY speaking, dreams have always been credited with meanings; but, in a given case, the psychologist must ask, how far does the accredited meaning represent the mere fancy of the interpreted and how far does it mirror actual conditions in the dreamer's mind. To seek aught beyond these is but idle divination. For of all dreams it is true, in the words of Ralph Waldo Emerson, "that the reason for them is always latent in the individual." "Things are significant enough, Heaven knows;" he exclaims, "but the seer of the sign,—where is he?"[1]
Not till the last year of the nineteenth century, did an answer come; it was
Sigmund Freud's work, "The Interpretation of Dreams," which said, in effect,
"Here am I, in Vienna."[2]
THE FREUDIAN PRETENSIONS
"In the following pages," he begins, "I shall prove that there exists a psychological technique by which dreams may be interpreted and that upon the application of this method every dream will show itself to be a senseful psychological structure which may be introduced into an assignable place in the psychic activities of the waking state."
The sweeping character of this pretension has not been justified. The demonstration has succeeded only with that large class of dreams in which there happens to be a trend of infantile reminiscence and of disguised sexual phantasy. It fails to reveal the inner nature of other kinds of dreams or the modus operandi of dreaming as a process of thinking. And while it is asserted by the publishers of the English[3] edition that the main contentions of his book have never been refuted, the fact is that his thesis has not been accepted by the representatives of scientific psychology, as a solution of the problem.
The exponents of Freudian interpretations today are medical men associated with the practice of so-called "Psychoanalysis;" which means that they are more concerned to apply Freud's ideas for the treatment of nervous ailments than to cultivate pure psychology. An examination of the methods they exemplify in individual practice and in the large literature of the psycho-analytic movement shows sufficient reason, in my view, why the psycho-analytic theory of dreams should still be greeted with skepticism. Psycho-analysts tell us that repugnance for the subject-matter has delayed acceptance of their essentially sexual interpretations. But there is also a resistance based on sound logical criticism. Judged by this standard, Freud's theory appears dangerously inaccurate and needs revision.
THE TWO SCHOOLS OF PSYCHO-ANALYSIS
Dr. C. G. Jung, formerly a pupil and literal follower of Freud, is attempting to reform psycho-analytic doctrine from within the fold.[4] Incidentally, he tells us that there is nothing essentially novel about the technique of investigating the dream in Psycho-analysis. It copies the methods of historical and literary criticism and consists in collecting all the data possible about each item of the dream. These are then called the dream material. What seems to me novel and characteristic is the psycho-analytic method of working up this material into an interpretation by a process of inference. Freud and Jung are today no longer in agreement as to the details of this process.[6] Speaking of the interpretations of these authorities, on the basis of extended investigations of dreams on my own part, I must say that their methods do not seem to be as rigorous, as is required today in the investigation of literary and historical problems, nor capable of bearing comparison with experimental psychology.
It must be acknowledged, however, that Freud has infinitely refined the guesses of earlier generations of thinkers as to the relationship of sleep-fancies to the waking life. He has conferred startling precision upon the general proposition of Goethe "that these whimsical pictures, inasmuch as they originate from us, may well have an analogy with our whole life and fate." And he has certainly vindicated in practice that dictum of Emerson: "A skilful man reads dreams for his self-knowledge."[1] But he has formulated no open-sesame, as psycho-analysts proclaim.
When it comes to the use of symbols, the Viennese professor parts company with the Concord philosopher. The latter, as we know, decried the mystical conception of fixed symbolism in any domain. But Freud, although theoretically agreed, falls victim in practice to the fascinations of the dream-book cipher method which he has condemned. The adjective Freudian is now justly a by-word, among psychopathologists, for a stereotyped habit of reducing each item of a dream to some cryptic allusion or roundabout reference to the primitive demands of the infantile and sexual life. Freud's fertility in such interpretations has led one of our best-known experimental psychologists to say, in mingled admiration and impatience: "His utterances are those of a poet, not of a scientist."