I am not referring here particularly to the employment of the method of hypnosis, especially as practiced by Prince, or to Freud's so-called free association (which is frequently really forced association) or Jung's word association methods. I am speaking only of analysis of the dream by ordinary conversation and introspection, in the normal waking state. Of course, were the latter method supplemented by these other methods, the results would be so much the more complete and far-reaching. I may mention, specifically, that the employment of Freud's free association method would be helpful here in gathering information because, when employing this method, one practically forces the one being analyzed to think by analogy and by comparison, insisting that he tell you what a certain word or name or scene or experience or what not reminds him of, what it resembles, what he can compare it to, no matter how remote its connection, no matter how unrelated, how far-fetched or how silly the association may appear in his own eyes—in other words, we demand that he co-operate by suspending critical selection and judgment. Although, as I say, Freud's, Jung's, Prince's and other methods may be advantageously employed, still, it seems to me, although I cannot yet state this in final or positive terms, that, at least in most cases, such an unravelment and resurrection of the past life history can be obtained by an analysis of the dream conducted in the ordinary, waking state, and the usual conversational mode of history-taking and daily oral intercourse.
It needs no repetition or elaboration to convince psychoanalysts (I use the term "psychoanalyst" in the broad, unrestricted sense of the word, including the supporters of all possible schools or standpoints or methods in psychoanalysis or mental analysis, and not limiting it to Freud's psychoanalysis) of the essential and fundamental truth of this statement. I shall, therefore, not unnecessarily lengthen this paper by endeavoring to bring forth complete evidence of the truth of this assertion.
As a matter of fact, this conclusion or generalization applies not alone to dreams but to any single element in the objective or subjective world which may be seized upon as the initial stimulus and from which, as a starting-point, association of ideas, in ordinary conversation or aided by any of the more or less experimental or artificial but valuable methods heretofore mentioned, may be begun and continued ad libitum or even ad infinitum, under the tactful guidance and judgment of the investigator. For example, if I may be permitted to tread upon the dangerous path of near-sensationalism or extremism, I may mention that were I to take even so common, so widely used, and so relatively insignificant a word as the definite article "the" as the initial stimulus, and have one of my fellowmen or fellow-women (whose full co-operation, it is assumed, I have previously obtained) give me one or more free or random word associations, and thereafter, with these newly acquired elements, continued to forge my way into the thickly wooded and unexplored recesses of the unknown and mysterious forest of the mind, I doubt not but that I should achieve the same results as if I had started upon my journey with a dream. If this be true, and I firmly believe that it is, in the case of that universally used and apparently inconsequential word "the," to which the normal person can be expected to have such a large number of associations, of varying degrees of intimacy or remoteness, how much truer is it when we have such a definite mental fact or mental state as a dream as the starting-point of our hunting expedition?
The dream gives us something tangible to start with, something near at home to the dreamer or patient, something interesting and amusing to him, something baffling and so frequently unintelligible to him, and, as a consequence, a more conscientious, earnest and wholehearted co-operation can be obtained from the person whose mental life is being investigated. Here is something vivid to him, something of personal interest to him. And so we can look to him to lend us his aid in better spirit and in fuller measure than might otherwise be obtainable.
I have been referring in my previous remarks, for the most part, to unravelment of the normal individual's life history. But my remarks are equally applicable to a mentally disturbed individual's life history and to the genesis of abnormal psychic states, particularly those to be met with in the neuroses and psychoneuroses.
So true is the generalization, indeed the truism or dictum here laid down, that, in only the psychoanalyst knows how many instances, by the analysis of a single, even the very first dream, one can arrive at the rock-bottom depth of the trouble at hand—yes, at the very genesis of the condition. It is not my intention in this paper to report such cases in full detail, since the presentation of even a single such case would be too lengthy for publication in an ordinary medical or other journal, and in many instances might well go to make a good-sized book, a real autobiography of more or less interest, if not to the average reader, at least to the psychoanalyst and to the person who has undergone the psychoanalysis. Without attempting to present an elaborate history or complete analysis, but rather merely to call attention to the truth of the general problem which is being discussed in this paper, I shall, however, mention a few definite illustrations of this sort.
A man of sixty was brought to my dispensary clinic by his wife (I say "brought" and not "accompanied" by his wife, advisedly). She accompanied him into my examining room. He had an almost complete aphonia, spoke hoarsely and in a whisper and presented all the signs of abductor laryngeal paralysis; added to which there was a partial hemiplegia of the right side involving the upper and lower extremities, but not the face or any of the cranial nerves other than that supplying the right laryngeal abductor. I shall not give any other points in the history except that this paralysis was of four months' duration, there was some resistance to movements at the elbow and knee, but Babinski and other indications of a central organic lesion were absent. The results of the rest of the physical examination need not be mentioned except that the patient presented evidences of arteriosclerosis. The patient was of dull mentality, meek humble and subservient; he was much below par mentally (I did not put him through any special intelligence tests), had little information to offer, constantly resorted to "I don't know" as a reply, and could co-operate but little. I did, however, obtain the important bit of information that seventeen years ago he had had an almost complete aphonia of several weeks' duration and that one day, while on board ship, he became seasick, vomited, became frightened, went to his room, and suddenly his voice returned to him. So sudden was the transformation that many of his fellow-passengers insisted that he had been deceiving them and had purposely simulated the condition he had previously presented. The case was one of hysteria, the patient presenting at the time of my examination signs of abductor laryngeal paralysis (laryngological examination disclosed a right-sided abductor palsy) and right-sided partial hemiplegia.
For the next two visits the wife accompanied, or rather, brought the patient to the clinic and I could get but little information and consequently progressed but little. I asked him, in her presence, to come alone the next time—which he did. The description of the onset of the attack, which was furnished me on his previous visits, proved the hysterical nature of the condition: he had suddenly been attacked by nausea and vomiting, fell to the floor, lay there, more or less unconscious (as he described it) for five or ten or more minutes, was assisted to his feet, went to his bed with practically no assistance, a few hours later found that he could speak little more than above a whisper, and in another few hours or more his right side became weak and failed him. He had insisted that the onset came on suddenly. He had denied any quarrels or trouble at home. Nothing could be obtained from him as to his thoughts just prior to the attack or as to any special emotional shocks.
On his fourth visit I asked him to tell me any dream he had had recently and which had made an impression upon him. He could give me no aid. Nothing came to mind. I asked him if he had dreamed the night before, and he told me he had had a dream the afternoon of the preceding day, during an afternoon nap. Here is the dream: He found himself struggling with a tremendous snake, the upper part of which was in human form, the features being very hazy and not at all recalled. The snake was vigorously endeavoring to enwrap itself about him and to strangle him, and he was desperately and fiercely struggling to defend himself against it and to free himself from it—and yet he could not fight it off. In desperation and in fear he cried aloud for help. This was the end of the dream, for, at this point, members of his family came rushing toward him to inquire what was wrong with him, and due partly to shock and his own activity in the dream, and partly perhaps to the noise of the footsteps and of the conversation of those who came running toward him to inquire into the cause of his distressful cries, he awoke.
The thoughts and reveries just preceding the dream and the thoughts and experiences during the morning preceding the dream, although the true inciters of the dream, and although concerned with the central figure (his wife) in this little drama, need not be detailed since the dream has a wider and more deeply arising significance.