TheInterpretationOfDreams PDF
TheInterpretationOfDreams PDF
Sigmund Freud (1900)
Sigmund Freud
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Preface
Chapter 1 (part 1) The Scientific Literature of
Dream-Problems (up to 1900)
Chapter1 (part 2)
Chapter 2 The Method of Dream Interpretation
Chapter 3 The Dream as Wish Fulfilment
Chapter 4 Distortion in Dreams
Chapter 5 (part 1) The Material and Sources of
Dreams
Chapter 5 (part 2)
Chapter 6 (part 2)
Chapter 6 (part 3)
Chapter 6 (part 4)
Chapter 7 (part 2)
Wheras there was a space of nine years
between the first and second editions of this book,
the need of a third edition was apparent when little
more than a year had elapsed. I ought to be
gratified by this change; but if I was unwilling
previously to attribute the neglect of my work to its
small value, I cannot take the interest which is now
making its appearance as proof of its quality.
The advance of scientific knowledge has not
left The Interpretation of Dreams untouched. When I
writers, [1] I have since learned to appreciate more
accurately the significance of symbolism in dreams
(or rather, in unconscious thought). In the course of
years, a mass of data has accumulated which
demands consideration. I have endeavored to deal
with these innovations by interpolations in the text
and footnotes. If these additions do not always quite
adjust themselves to the framework of the treatise,
or if the earlier text does not everywhere come up to
Herr Otto Rank has afforded me valuable
assistance in the selection of supplementary
examples, and has revised the proofs of this edition.
I have to thank him and many other colleagues for
their contributions and corrections.
Vienna, 1911 -
[1] Omitted in subsequent editions.
second edition of this book--a book which cannot be
described as easy to read--before the completion of
its first decade is not to be explained by the interest
of the professional circles to which I was addressing
myself. My psychiatric colleagues have not,
apparently, attempted to look beyond the
astonishment which may at first have been aroused
by my novel conception of the dream; and the
professional philosophers, who are anyhow
not have exhausted the first edition of this book. I
feel, therefore, that my thanks are due to the wider
circle of cultured and inquiring readers whose
sympathy has induced me, after the lapse of nine
years, once more to take up this difficult work,
which has so many fundamental bearings.
I am glad to be able to say that I found
little in the book that called for alteration. Here and
there I have interpolated fresh material, or have
subject of the dream-life, I am able to stand by my
original text. In my many years' work upon the
problems of the neuroses I have often hesitated,
and I have often gone astray; and then it was
always the interpretation of dreams that restored
my self-confidence. My many scientific opponents
are actuated by a wise instinct when they decline to
follow me into the region of oneirology.
Even the material of this book, even my
readers the material from which they learn to
evaluate and interpret dreams will be a matter of
indifference.
Where an inevitable comment could not be
fitted into the old context, I have indicated by
square brackets that it does not occur in the first
edition.[2]
Berchtesgaden, 1908 -
[2] Omitted in subsequent editions.
In this volume I have attempted to expound
the methods and results of dream-interpretation;
and in so doing I do not think I have overstepped
the boundary of neuro-pathological science. For the
dream proves on psychological investigation to be
the first of a series of abnormal psychic formations,
a series whose succeeding members- the hysterical
phobias, the obsessions, the delusions- must, for
practical reasons, claim the attention of the
of contact at which the problem of dream-formation
is linked up with the more comprehensive problems
of psycho- pathology; problems which cannot be
treated in these pages, but which, if time and
powers suffice and if further material presents itself,
may be elaborated elsewhere.
The peculiar nature of the material
employed to exemplify the interpretation of dreams
has made the writing even of this treatise a difficult
life than is agreeable to me, and more than seems
fitting in a writer who is not a poet but a scientific
investigator. To do so is painful, but unavoidable; I
have submitted to the necessity, for otherwise I
could not have demonstrated my psychological
conclusions. Sometimes, of course, I could not resist
the temptation to mitigate my indiscretions by
omissions and substitutions; but wherever I have
done so the value of the example cited has been
CHAPTER 1 (Part 1)
THE SCIENTIFIC LITERATURE OF
DREAM-PROBLEMS (UP TO 1900)
In the following pages I shall demonstrate
that there is a psychological technique which makes
it possible to interpret dreams, and that on the
application of this technique every dream will reveal
itself as a psychological structure, full of
significance, and one which may be assigned to a
specific place in the psychic activities of the waking
state. Further, I shall endeavour to elucidate the
status of the dream-problem in contemporary
science; since in the course of this treatise I shall
not often have occasion to refer to either. In spite of
thousands of years of endeavour, little progress has
been made in the scientific understanding of
dreams. This fact has been so universally
acknowledged by previous writers on the subject
that it seems hardly necessary to quote individual
opinions. The reader will find, in the works listed at
with it in these pages. I will refer the reader to the
well-known works of Sir John Lubbock (Lord
Avebury), Herbert Spencer, E. B. Tylor, and other
writers; I will only add that we shall not realize the
importance of these problems and speculations until
we have completed the task of dream- interpretation
that lies before us.
A reminiscence of the concept of the dream
that was held in primitive times seems to underlie
them, and necessitated manifold differentiations and
group-formations, according to their value and
reliability. The valuation of dreams by the individual
philosophers of antiquity naturally depended on the
importance which they were prepared to attribute to
manticism in general.
In the two works of Aristotle in which there
is mention of dreams, they are already regarded as
constituting a problem of psychology. We are told
hot, if this or that part of the body becomes only
quite slightly warm"), which led him to conclude that
dreams might easily betray to the physician the first
indications of an incipient physical change which
escaped observation during the day.[2]
As has been said, those writers of antiquity
who preceded Aristotle did not regard the dream as
a product of the dreaming psyche, but as an
inspiration of divine origin, and in ancient times the
past), and was unimportant in respect of the future;
it included the enuknia (insomnia), which directly
reproduce a given idea or its opposite; e.g., hunger
or its satiation; and the phantasmata, which
elaborate the given idea phantastically, as e.g. the
nightmare, ephialtes. The second class of dreams,
on the other hand, was determinative of the future.
To this belonged:
1. Direct prophecies received in the dream
(chrematismos, oraculum);
2. the foretelling of a future event (orama,
visio);
really foretell something of importance, so that an
effort was made to replace the incomprehensible
content of the dream by something that should be at
once comprehensible and significant. In later
antiquity Artemidorus of Daldis was regarded as the
greatest authority on dream-interpretation. His
comprehensive works must serve to compensate us
for the lost works of a similar nature[4] The pre-
scientific conception of the dream which obtained
quite apart from pietistic and mystical writers- who
cling, as they are perfectly justified in doing, to the
remnants of the once predominant realm of the
supernatural until these remnants have been swept
away by scientific explanation- we not infrequently
find that quite intelligent persons, who in other
respects are averse from anything of a romantic
nature, go so far as to base their religious belief in
the existence and co-operation of superhuman
doctrines should be repudiated.
To write strongly the history of our scientific
knowledge of the dream- problem is extremely
difficult, because, valuable though this knowledge
may be in certain respects, no real progress in a
definite direction is as yet discernible. No real
foundation of verified results has hitherto been
established on which future investigators might
continue to build. Every new author approaches the
But as I have not succeeded in mastering
the whole of this literature- for it is widely dispersed,
and interwoven with the literature of other subjects-
I must ask my readers to rest content with my
survey as it stands, provided that no fundamental
fact or important point of view has been overlooked.
Until recently most authors have been
inclined to deal with the subjects of sleep and
dreams in conjunction, and together with these they
in these pages. I have had little occasion to concern
myself with the problem of sleep, as this is
essentially a physiological problem, although the
changes in the functional determination of the
psychic apparatus should be included in a
description of the sleeping state. The literature of
sleep will therefore not be considered here.
A scientific interest in the phenomena of
dreams as such leads us to propound the following
Waking State
The naive judgment of the dreamer on
life, with its trials and joys, its pleasures and pains,
is never repeated; on the contrary, the dream aims
at relieving us of these. Even when our whole mind
is filled with one subject, when our hearts are rent
by bitter grief, or when some task has been taxing
our mental capacity to the utmost, the dream either
gives us something entirely alien, or it selects for its
combinations only a few elements of reality; or it
merely enters into the key of our mood, and
from the regular normal content and course of the
waking state..." (p. 19).
Yet the overwhelming majority of writers on
the subject have adopted the contrary view of the
relation of the dream to waking life. Thus Haffner (p.
19): "To begin with, the dream continues the waking
life. Our dreams always connect themselves with
such ideas as have shortly before been present in
our consciousness. Careful examination will nearly
the age, sex, station in life, education and habits,
and by the events and experiences of the whole past
life of the individual."
The philosopher, I. G. E. Maas, adopts the
most unequivocal attitude in respect of this question
(Uber die Leidenschaften, 1805): "Experience
corroborates our assertion that we dream most
frequently of those things toward which our warmest
passions are directed. This shows us that our
life. I will quote Radestock (p. 139): "When Xerxes,
before his expedition against Greece, was dissuaded
from his resolution by good counsel, but was again
and again incited by dreams to undertake it, one of
the old, rational dream-interpreters of the Persians,
Artabanus, told him, and very appropriately, that
dream-images for the most part contain that of
which one has been thinking in the waking state."
In the didactic poem of Lucretius, On the
egimus."[8]
The contradiction between these two views
concerning the relation between dream life and
waking life seems indeed irresolvable. Here we may
usefully cite the opinion of F. W. Hildebrandt (1875),
who held that on the whole the peculiarities of the
dream can only be described as "a series of
contrasts which apparently amount to
contradictions" (p. 8). "The first of these contrasts is
nothing in common with real life...." Hildebrandt
then asserts that in falling asleep our whole being,
with its forms of existence, disappears "as through
an invisible trapdoor." In one's dream one is
perhaps making a voyage to St. Helena in order to
offer the imprisoned Napoleon an exquisite vintage
of Moselle. One is most affably received by the ex-
emperor, and one feels almost sorry when, on
waking, the interesting illusion is destroyed. But let
experience thus appears as something entirely
foreign, interpolated between two mutually related
and successive periods of time.
"Nevertheless," continues Hildebrandt, "the
apparent contrary is just as true and correct. I
believe that side by side with this seclusion and
insulation there may still exist the most intimate
interrelation. We may therefore justly say: Whatever
the dream may offer us, it derives its material from
B. The Material of Dreams- Memory in
Dreams
That all the material composing the content
of a dream is somehow derived from experience,
that it is reproduced or remembered in the dream-
this at least may be accepted as an incontestable
fact. Yet it would be wrong to assume that such a
connection between the dream-content and reality
will be easily obvious from a comparison between
experience. One remembers clearly enough having
dreamed of the thing in question, but one cannot
recall the actual experience or the time of its
occurrence. The dreamer is therefore in the dark as
to the source which the dream has tapped, and is
even tempted to believe in an independent
productive activity on the part of the dream, until,
often long afterwards, a fresh episode restores the
memory of that former experience, which had been
of a little fern which was growing on the wall, and of
which he knew they were very fond. In the dream
he knew the name of the plant; Asplenium ruta
muralis. The dream continued returning after a
digression to the lizards, and to his astonishment
Delboeuf saw two other little lizards falling upon
what was left of the ferns. On turning his eyes to the
open fields he saw a fifth and a sixth lizard making
for the hole in the wall, and finally the whole road
The dream occurred in 1862. Sixteen years
later, while at the house of one of his friends, the
philosopher noticed a small album containing dried
plants, such as are sold as souvenirs to visitors in
many parts of Switzerland. A sudden recollection
came to him: he opened the herbarium, discovered
therein the Asplenium of his dream, and recognized
his own handwriting in the accompanying Latin
name. The connection could now be traced. In 1860,
the whole procession of lizards pictured, just as he
had dreamt of it in 1862. The volume bore the date
1861, and Delboeuf remembered that he had
subscribed to the journal since its first appearance.
That dreams have at their disposal
recollections which are inaccessible to the waking
state is such a remarkable and theoretically
important fact that I should like to draw attention to
the point by recording yet other hypermnesic
confirmed, but it was not possible to trace the
forgotten source of this knowledge.
Jessen (p. 55) refers to a very similar
incident, the period of which is more remote.
"Among others we may here mention the dream of
the elder Scaliger (Hennings, l.c., p. 300), who
wrote a poem in praise of the famous men of
Verona, and to whom a man named Brugnolus
appeared in a dream, complaining that he had been
dream she seemed familiar to me; I thought,
indeed, that I had seen her repeatedly. After
waking, her face was still quite vividly before me,
but I was absolutely unable to recognize it. I fell
asleep again; the dream-picture repeated itself. In
this new dream I addressed the golden-haired lady
and asked her whether I had not had the pleasure of
meeting her somewhere. 'Of course,' she replied;
'don't you remember the bathing-place at Pornic?'
Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research,
but these, unfortunately, are inaccessible to me. I
think everyone who occupies himself with dreams
will recognize, as a very common phenomenon, the
fact that a dream will give proof of the knowledge
and recollection of matters of which the dreamer, in
his waking state, did not imagine himself to be
cognizant. In my analytic investigations of nervous
patients, of which I shall speak later, I find that it
in a cafe, and after telling me this he asked me what
it could be, as he had never heard the name before.
I was able to tell him that kontuszowka was a Polish
liqueur, which he could not have invented in his
dream, as the name had long been familiar to me
from the advertisements. At first the patient would
not believe me, but some days later, after he had
allowed his dream of the cafe to become a reality,
he noticed the name on a signboard at a street
over this route was in 1886. In later years, when I
was already busily engaged in the study of dreams,
I was quite annoyed by the frequent recurrence of
the dream-image of a certain peculiar locality. I saw,
in definite orientation to my own person- on my left-
a dark space in which a number of grotesque
sandstone figures stood out. A glimmering
recollection, which I did not quite believe, told me
that it was the entrance to a beer-cellar; but I could
probably at the spot where I had turned back in
1895, I discovered the place, with its sandstone
figures, which I had so often seen in my dream. It
was, in fact, the entrance to a restaurant garden.
One of the sources from which dreams draw
material for reproduction- material of which some
part is not recalled or utilized in our waking
thoughts- is to be found in childhood. Here I will cite
only a few of the authors who have observed and
and things, quite intact, and in all their original
freshness. This is confined not merely to such
impressions as were vividly perceived at the time of
their occurrence, or were associated with intense
psychological values, to recur later in the dream as
actual reminiscences which give pleasure to the
waking mind. On the contrary, the depths of the
dream-memory rather contain such images of
persons, places, things and early experiences as
The control which the dream exercises over
material from our childhood, most of which, as is
well known, falls into the lacunae of our conscious
memory, is responsible for the production of
interesting hypermnesic dreams, of which I shall cite
a few more examples.
Maury relates (p. 92) that as a child he often
went from his native city, Meaux, to the
neighbouring Trilport, where his father was
Maury records another example, which
demonstrates no less clearly the reliability of the
reminiscences of childhood that emerge in our
dreams. M. F., who as a child had lived in
Montbrison, decided, after an absence of twenty-five
years, to visit his home and the old friends of his
family. The night before his departure he dreamt
that he had reached his destination, and that near
Montbrison he met a man whom he did not know by
Here I might relate one of my own dreams,
in which the recalled impression takes the form of
an association. In my dream I saw a man whom I
recognized, while dreaming, as the doctor of my
native town. His face was not distinct, but his
features were blended with those of one of my
schoolmasters, whom I still meet from time to time.
What association there was between the two
persons I could not discover on waking, but upon
our most recent experiences. Robert (p. 46) even
declares that the normal dream generally occupies
itself only with the impressions of the last few days.
We shall find, indeed, that the theory of the dream
advanced by Robert absolutely requires that our
oldest impressions should be thrust into the
background, and our most recent ones brought to
the fore. However, the fact here stated by Robert is
correct; this I can confirm from my own
activities of the day. Thus, as a rule, we do not
dream of a beloved person who is dead while we are
still overwhelmed with sorrow (Delage). Yet Miss
Hallam, one of the most recent observers, has
collected examples which reveal the very opposite
behaviour in this respect, and upholds the claims of
psychological individuality in this matter.
The third, most remarkable, and at the same
time most incomprehensible, peculiarity of memory
preceding day, but from unimportant incidents, from
the worthless odds and ends of recent experience or
of the remoter past. The most shocking death in our
family, the impressions of which keep us awake long
into the night, is obliterated from our memories until
the first moment of waking brings it back to us with
distressing force. On the other hand, the wart on the
forehead of a passing stranger, to whom we did not
give a moment's thought once he was out of sight,
Havelock Ellis (p. 727): "The profound
emotions of waking life, the questions and problems
on which we spend our chief voluntary mental
energy, are not those which usually present
themselves at once to dream- consciousness. It is,
so far as the immediate past is concerned, mostly
the trifling, the incidental, the 'forgotten'
impressions of daily life which reappear in our
dreams. The psychic activities that are awake most
the cerebral cells that bear the most sensitive
records of experience remain for the most part inert
and numb, unless an acute revival during the
waking state has quite recently excited them?"
We can readily understand how the strange
preference shown by the dream- memory for the
indifferent and therefore disregarded details of daily
experience must commonly lead us altogether to
overlook the dependence of dreams on the waking
from the remotest corners of our storehouse of
memories, and to bring to light all sorts of quite
indifferent events of long ago from the oblivion
which may have overtaken them an hour after their
occurrence." I must, however, express my regret
that this discerning author refrained from following
the path which at first sight seemed so unpromising,
for it would have led him directly to the central point
of the explanation of dreams.
contradiction which has to be put forward in certain
dream-theories to be mentioned later, which seek to
explain the absurdities and incoherences of dreams
by a partial forgetting of what we have known
during the day.
It might even occur to one to reduce the
phenomenon of dreaming to that of remembering,
and to regard the dream as the manifestation of a
reproductive activity, unresting even at night, which
do not occur in dreams. It is true that a dream will
make a beginning in that direction, but the next link
is wanting; it appears in a different form, or is
replaced by something entirely novel. The dream
gives us only fragmentary reproductions; this is so
far the rule that it permits of a theoretical
generalization. Still, there are exceptions in which
an episode is repeated in a dream as completely as
it can be reproduced by our waking memory.
unchanged in a dream.[13]
sources may be explained by a reference to the
popular saying: "Dreams come from the stomach."
This notion covers a theory which conceives the
dream as resulting from a disturbance of sleep. We
should not have dreamed if some disturbing element
had not come into play during our sleep, and the
dream is the reaction against this disturbance.
The discussion of the exciting causes of
dreams occupies a great deal of space in the
of psychology or to that of physiology. Most authors
appear to assume that disturbance of sleep, and
hence dreams, may arise from various causes, and
that physical as well as mental stimuli may play the
part of dream-excitants. Opinions differ widely in
preferring this or the other factor as the cause of
dreams, and in classifying them in the order of
importance.
Whenever the sources of dreams are
general anaesthesia of the skin and with paralysis of
several of the higher sensory organs. This man
would laps into sleep whenever the few remaining
sensory paths between himself and the outer world
were closed. When we wish to fall asleep we are
accustomed to strive for a condition similar to that
obtaining in Strumpell's experiment. We close the
most important sensory portals, the eyes, and we
endeavour to protect the other senses from all
There are a great many stimuli of this
nature, ranging from those unavoidable stimuli
which are proper to the state of sleep or occasionally
admitted by it, to those fortuitous stimuli which are
calculated to wake the sleeper. Thus a strong light
may fall upon the eyes, a noise may be heard, or an
odour may irritate the mucous membranes of the
nose. In our unintentional movements during sleep
we may lay bare parts of the body, and thus expose
more or less accidental objective sensory stimuli.
Every noise indistinctly perceived gives rise to
corresponding dream- representations; the rolling of
thunder takes us into the thick of battle, the crowing
of a cock may be transformed into human shrieks of
terror, and the creaking of a door may conjure up
dreams of burglars breaking into the house. When
one of our blankets slips off us at night we may
dream that we are walking about naked, or falling
being attacked by several men who threw him flat
on the ground and drove a stake into the earth
between his first and second toes. While imagining
this in his dream he suddenly awoke and felt a piece
of straw sticking between his toes. The same author,
according to Hemmings (Von den Traumen und
Nachtwandlern, Weimar, 1784, p. 258), "dreamed
on another occasion, when his nightshirt was rather
too tight round his neck, that he was being hanged.
of the Inquisition, and suffering the pains of torture
(Macnish)."
The argument that there is a resemblance
between the dream-stimulus and the dream-content
would be confirmed if, by a systematic induction of
stimuli, we should succeed in producing dreams
corresponding to these stimuli. According to Macnish
such experiments had already been made by Giron
de Buzareingues. "He left his knee exposed and
kind."
experiments were unsuccessful.)
1. He was tickled with a feather on his lips
and on the tip of his nose. He dreamed of an awful
torture, viz., that a mask of pitch was stuck to his
face and then forcibly torn off, bringing the skin with
it.
2. Scissors were whetted against a pair of
tweezers. He heard bells ringing, then sounds of
tumult which took him back to the days of the
Revolution of 1848.
3. Eau de Cologne was held to his nostrils.
Duchesse d'Abrantes, whose secretary he imagined
himself to be then entered the room.
6. A drop of water was allowed to fall on to
his forehead. He imagined himself in Italy,
perspiring heavily, and drinking the white wine of
Orvieto.
7. When the light of a candle screened with
red paper was allowed to fall on his face, he
dreamed of thunder, of heat, and of a storm at sea
very long and connected dream, as though the
entire dream had been especially designed for it, as
though it found in this sound its appropriate and
logically indispensable climax, its inevitable
denouement."
I shall presently have occasion to cite three
of these alarm-clock dreams in a different
connection.
Volkelt (p. 68) relates: "A composer once
I, while sleeping in a carriage, was awakened from a
dream by an explosion which took him back to the
crossing of the Tagliamento and the bombardment
of the Austrians, so that he started up, crying, "We
have been undermined."
The following dream of Maury's has become
celebrated: He was ill in bed; his mother was sitting
beside him. He dreamed of the Reign of Terror
during the Revolution. He witnessed some terrible
that the head-board of the bed had fallen, and had
actually struck the cervical vertebrae just where the
knife of the guillotine would have fallen.
This dream gave rise to an interesting
discussion, initiated by Le Lorrain and Egger in the
Revue Philosophique, as to whether, and how, it was
possible for the dreamer to crowd together an
amount of dream-content apparently so large in the
short space of time elapsing between the perception
cannot stop here, but is incited to further
investigation by the observation that the stimulus
influencing the senses during sleep does not appear
in the dream at all in its true form, but is replaced
by some other representation, which is in some way
related to it. But the relation existing between the
stimulus and the resulting dream is, according to
Maury, "une affinite quelconque mais qui n'est pas
unique et exclusive"[15] (p. 72). If we read, for
the churchyard until I am cooler. While reading the
various epitaphs, I hear the sexton climbing the
church- tower, and I see above me the small bell
which is about to ring for the beginning of service.
For a little while it hangs motionless; then it begins
to swing, and suddenly its notes resound so clearly
and penetratingly that my sleep comes to an end.
But the notes of the bell come from the alarm-
clock."
"Yet a third example. I see the kitchen-maid
walking along the passage to the dining-room, with
a pile of several dozen plates. The porcelain column
in her arms seems to me to be in danger of losing
its equilibrium. 'Take care,' I exclaim, 'you will drop
the whole pile!' The usual retort is naturally made-
that she is used to such things, etc. Meanwhile I
continue to follow her with my anxious gaze, and
behold, at the threshold the fragile plates fall and
recognized by us and correctly interpreted- that is, it
is classed with the memory-group to which it
belongs according to all previous experience if the
impression is strong, clear, and sufficiently
prolonged, and if we have sufficient time to submit it
to those mental processes. But if these conditions
are not fulfilled we mistake the object which gives
rise to the impression, and on the basis of this
impression we construct an illusion. "If one takes a
of memory the corresponding images are aroused,
and which of the possible associative connections
are brought into play, that- to quote Strumpell
again- is indeterminable, and is left, as it were, to
the caprices of the mind.
Here we may take our choice. We may admit
that the laws of dream-formation cannot really be
traced any further, and so refrain from asking
whether or not the interpretation of the illusion
namely, that it must correspond with the element
experimentally introduced. Indeed, one even begins
to doubt the illusion theory, and the power of
objective impressions to shape the dream, when one
realizes that such impressions are sometimes
subjected to the most peculiar and far-fetched
interpretations in our dreams. Thus M. Simon tells of
a dream in which he saw persons of gigantic
stature[16] seated at a table, and heard distinctly
2. Internal (subjective) sensory stimuli
All objections to the contrary
notwithstanding, we must admit that the role of the
objective sensory stimuli as producers of dreams
has been indisputably established, and if, having
regard to their nature and their frequency, these
stimuli seem perhaps insufficient to explain all
dream- pictures, this indicates that we should look
for other dream-sources which act in a similar
the retina. This explains the remarkable tendency of
dreams to delude the eyes with numbers of similar
or identical objects. Thus we see outspread before
our eyes innumerable birds, butterflies, fishes,
coloured beads, flowers, etc. Here the luminous dust
in the dark field of vision has assumed fantastic
forms, and the many luminous points of which it
consists are embodied in our dreams in as many
single images, which, owing to the mobility of the
images."
The subjective sensory stimuli as a source of
dreams have the obvious advantage that, unlike
the fact that their claim to the role of dream-
inciters- which observation and experiment have
established in the case of objective stimuli- can in
their case be verified with difficulty or not at all. The
main proof of the dream-inciting power of subjective
sensory stimuli is afforded by the so-called
hypnogogic hallucinations, which have been
described by Johann Muller as "phantastic visual
manifestations." They are those very vivid and
falls into such a lethargy for a moment, after which
one may perhaps wake up, until this oft-repeated
process terminates in sleep. According to Maury, if
one wakes up shortly after such an experience, it is
often possible to trace in the dream the images
which one has perceived before falling asleep as
hypnogogic hallucinations (p. 134). Thus Maury on
one occasion saw a series of images of grotesque
figures with distorted features and curiously dressed
hallucination of microscopically small characters,
which he was able to decipher, one by one, only
with a great effort; and on waking from sleep an
hour later he recalled a dream in which there was an
open book with very small letters, which he was
obliged to read through with laborious effort.
Not only pictures, but auditory hallucinations
of words, names, etc., may also occur
hypnogogically, and then repeat themselves in the
inasmuch as the luminous dots and lines of light
spontaneously perceived by the retina produce, so
to speak, the outline or scheme of the psychically
perceived dream-images. For example, a dream in
which he saw before him clearly printed lines, which
he read and studied, corresponded with a number of
luminous spots arranged in parallel lines; or, to
express it in his own words: The clearly printed page
resolved itself into an object which appeared to his
in a brightly-lit room. The shifting and infinitely
variable character of the spontaneous luminous
excitations of the retina exactly corresponds with
the fitful succession of images presented to us in our
dreams. If we attach any importance to Ladd's
observations, we cannot underrate the
productiveness of this subjective source of stimuli;
for visual images, as we know, are the principal
constituents of our dreams. The share contributed
to a long-familiar experience when he declares that
"during sleep the psyche becomes far more deeply
and broadly conscious of its coporality than in the
waking state, and it is compelled to receive and to
be influenced by certain stimulating impressions
originating in parts of the body, and in alterations of
the body, of which it is unconscious in the waking
state." Even Aristotle declares it to be quite possible
that a dream may draw our attention to incipient
subjected to various ceremonies, bathed, rubbed
and perfumed. A state of exaltation having been
thus induced, he was made to lie down in the temple
on the skin of a sacrificial ram. He fell asleep and
dreamed of remedies, which he saw in their natural
form, or in symbolic images which the priests
afterwards interpreted.
For further references concerning the
remedial dreams of the Greeks, cf. Lehmann, i, 74;
Judentum, p. 130.
Even in our days there seems to be no lack
of authenticated examples of such diagnostic
perfect health, was troubled with anxiety-dreams,
and in whom a medical examination subsequently
revealed an incipient affection of the heart, to which
she presently succumbed.
Serious derangements of the internal organs
clearly excite dreams in quite a number of persons.
The frequency of anxiety-dreams in diseases of the
heart and lungs has been generally realized; indeed,
this function of the dream-life is emphasized by so
nightmare- which, by the way, Borner has
succeeded in inducing experimentally by lying on the
face and covering the mouth and nostrils. In
digestive disturbances the dream contains ideas
from the sphere of gustatory enjoyment and disgust.
Finally, the influence of sexual excitement on the
dream-content is obvious enough in everyone's
experience, and provides the strongest confirmation
of the whole theory of dream-instigation by organic
sensation.
Moreover, if we study the literature of
persons, and every night- and a pathological state of
the organs is evidently not one of the indispensable
conditions. For us, however, the question is not
whence particular dreams originate, but rather:
what is the exciting cause of ordinary dreams in
normal people?
But we have only to go a step farther to find
a source of dreams which is more prolific than any
of those mentioned above, and which promises
the organic systems contribute their share- this
general sensation would at night attain a greater
potency, and, acting through its individual
components, would constitute the most prolific as
well as the most usual source of dream-
representations. We should then have to discover
the laws by which organic stimuli are translated into
dream- representations.
This theory of the origin of dreams is the
manifestations, since changes in the general organic
massive sensation and in the stimuli emanating from
the internal organs are also considered to have a
far-reaching significance as regards the origin of the
psychoses. It is therefore not surprising that the
organic stimulus theory can be traced to several
writers who have propounded this theory
independently.
A number of writers have followed the train
night we hear the rippling of the brook that was
drowned in the clamour of the day. But how else can
the intellect react to these stimuli than by
transforming them in accordance with its own
function into things which occupy space and time
and follow the lines of causality?- and so a dream
originates. Thus Scherner, and after him Volkelt,
endeavoured to discover the more intimate relations
between physical sensations and dream-pictures;
those that are immanent in the principal systems of
the vegetative organism, and which may in turn be
subdivided into five groups: (a) the muscular, (b)
the pneumatic, (c) the gastric, (d) the sexual, (e)
the peripheral sensations (p. 33 of the second
article)."
The origin of the dream-image from physical
sensations is conceived by Krauss as follows: The
awakened sensation, in accordance with some law of
The influence of organic physical stimuli on
the formation of dreams is today almost universally
admitted, but the question as to the nature of the
law underlying this relation is answered in various
ways, and often obscurely. On the basis of the
theory of physical excitation the special task of
dream-interpretation is to trace back the content of
a dream to the causative organic stimulus, and if we
do not accept the rules of interpretation advanced
of the dream.
A certain agreement, however, appears in
said to be caused simply by the dreamer's
perception, felt in his sleep, that he has thrown off
the bedclothes and is uncovered. The dream that
one's teeth are dropping out is explained by "dental
irritation," which does not, however, of necessity
imply a morbid condition of irritability in the teeth.
According to Strumpell, the flying dream is the
adequate image employed by the mind to interpret
the quantum of stimulus emanating from the rising
The weakness of these fairly plausible attempts at
explanation clearly lies in the fact that without any
further elucidation they allow this or that group of
organic sensations to disappear from psychic
perception, or to obtrude themselves upon it, until
the constellation favourable for the explanation has
been established. Later on, however, I shall have
occasion to return to the subject of typical dreams
and their origin.
activity, stimulation, or disturbance, the dream will
present ideas which correspond with the nature of
the organic function performed by that apparatus."
Mourly Vold has undertaken to prove the
supposed influence of bodily sensation on the
production of dreams by experimenting on a single
physiological territory. He changed the positions of a
sleeper's limbs, and compared the resulting dreams
with these changes. He recorded the following
results:
1. The position of a limb in a dream
4. One may also dream that the movement
in question is impeded.
5. The limb in any particular position may
appear in the dream as an animal or monster, in
which case a certain analogy between the two is
established.
6. The behaviour of a limb may in the dream
incite ideas which bear some relation or other to this
limb. Thus, for example, if we are using our fingers
we dream of numerals.
Results such as these would lead me to
evoked.[18]
4. Psychic sources of excitation
When considering the relation of dreams to
things that interest them in the waking state. This
interest, continued from waking life into sleep, is not
only a psychic bond, joining the dream to life, but it
is also a source of dreams whose importance must
not be underestimated, and which, taken together
with those stimuli which become active and of
interest during sleep, suffices to explain the origin of
all dream-images. Yet we have also heard the very
contrary of this asserted; namely, that dreams bear
If interest during the waking state together
with the internal and external stimuli that occur
during sleep, sufficed to cover the whole aetiology of
dreams, we should be in a position to give a
satisfactory account of the origin of all the elements
of a dream; the problem of the dream-sources
would then be solved, leaving us only the task of
discriminating between the part played by the
psychic and that played by the somatic dream-
Other dream-sources of a psychic nature are
not known. Hence, with the exception perhaps of the
explanation of dreams given by Scherner, to which
reference will be made later on, all the explanations
found in the literature of the subject show a
considerable hiatus whenever there is a question of
tracing the images and ideas which are the most
characteristic material of dreams. In this dilemma
the majority of authors have developed a tendency
question of such a stable nucleus. Here the loose
grouping penetrates even to the very centre of the
dream. The imaginative life, already released from
the control of reason and intellect, is here no longer
held together by the more important psychical and
physical stimuli, but is left to its own uncontrolled
and confused divagations." Wundt, too, attempts to
belittle the psychic factor in the evocation of dreams
by asserting that "the phantasms of the dream are
and elsewhere (p. 6), "Les pensees de nos reves
nous viennent de dehors...."[20]
Those writers who, like the eminent
philosopher Wundt, adopt a middle course, do not
hesitate to assert that in most dreams there is a
cooperation of the somatic stimuli and psychic
stimuli which are either unknown or are identified
with the interests of the day.
We shall learn later that the problem of
psychic life is independent of demonstrable organic
changes, or spontaneous in its manifestations, is
alarming to the contemporary psychiatrist, as
though such an admission must mean a return to
the old-world natural philosophy and the
metaphysical conception of the nature of the soul.
The distrust of the psychiatrist has placed the
psyche under tutelage, so to speak; it requires that
none of the impulses of the psyche shall reveal an
D. Why Dreams Are Forgotten After
Waking
That a dream fades away in the morning is
proverbial. It is, indeed, possible to recall it. For we
know the dream, of course, only by recalling it after
waking; but we very often believe that we
remember it incompletely, that during the night
there was more of it than we remember. We may
observe how the memory of a dream which in the
occasion to analyse, with my patients, dreams which
occurred to them twenty-five years or more
previously, and I can remember a dream of my own
which is divided from the present day by at least
thirty-seven years, and yet has lost nothing of its
freshness in my memory. All this is very remarkable,
and for the present incomprehensible.
The forgetting of dreams is treated in the
most detailed manner by Strumpell. This forgetting
number of causes.
stronger images in their neighbourhood are
remembered. However, the factor of intensity is in
itself not the only determinant of the preservation of
dream-images; Strumpell, as well as other authors
(Calkins), admits that dream-images are often
rapidly forgotten although they are known to have
been vivid, whereas, among those that are retained
in the memory, there are many that are very
shadowy and unmeaning. Besides, in the waking
are taken and mixed together, it will be very difficult
to remember them. "Properly placed, in a significant
sequence, one word helps another, and the whole,
making sense, remains and is easily and lastingly
fixed in the memory. Contradictions, as a rule, are
retained with just as much difficulty and just as
rarely as things that are confused and disorderly."
Now dreams, in most cases, lack sense and order.
Dream-compositions, by their very nature, are
mentioned, namely, that the dream hardly ever
takes over an orderly series of memories from the
waking state, but only certain details of these
memories, which it removes from the habitual
psychic connections in which they are remembered
in the waking state. The dream-composition,
therefore, has no place in the community of the
psychic series which fill the mind. It lacks all
mnemonic aids. "In this manner the dream-structure
the new day like the stars before the light of the
sun.
dreams is conducive to the forgetting of dreams.
Anyone who for some time applies himself to the
investigation of dreams, and takes a special interest
in them, usually dreams more during that period
than at any other; he remembers his dreams more
easily and more frequently.
Two other reasons for the forgetting of
dreams, which Bonatelli (cited by Benini) adds to
those adduced by Strumpell, have already been
laws for the remembering of dreams amount to an
admission that here, too, there is something
puzzling and unexplained. Certain peculiarities
relating to the remembering of dreams have
attracted particular attention of late; for example,
the fact that the dream which is believed to be
forgotten in the morning may be recalled in the
course of the day on the occasion of some
perception which accidentally touches the forgotten
which the actual dream did not contain."
Jessen (p. 547) expresses himself in very
decided terms:
"Moreover, we must not lose sight of the
fact, hitherto little heeded, that in the investigation
and interpretation of coherent and logical dreams we
almost always take liberties with the truth when we
recall a dream to memory. Unconsciously and
unintentionally we fill up the gaps and supplement
translation of Jessen's words:
"...L'observation des reves a ses difficultes
speciales et le seul moyen d'eviter toute erreur en
pareille matiere est de confier au papier sans le
moindre retard ce que l'on vient d'eprouver et de
remarquer; sinon, l'oubli vient vite ou total ou
partiel; l'oubli total est sans gravite; mais l'oubli
partiel est perfide: car si l'on se met ensuite a
raconter ce que l'on n'a pas oublie, on est expose a
Since we can test the reliability of our
memory only by objective means, and since such a
test is impossible in the case of dreams, which are
our own personal experience, and for which we
know no other source than our memory, what value
do our recollections of our dreams possess?
Footnotes
1
The following remarks are based on
2
The relationship between dreams and
recently, with reference to the psycho- analytic
standpoint, by Lauer. Details of the Arabic methods
of dream- interpretation are furnished by Drexl, F.
Schwarz, and the missionary Tfinkdji. The
interpretation of dreams among the Japanese has
been investigated by Miura and Iwaya, among the
Chinese by Secker, and among the Indians by
Negelein.
5
We dream of what we have seen, said,
desired, or done.
6
Communicated by Winterstein to the
7
And whatever be the pursuit to which one
clings with devotion, whatever the things on which
8
And especially the "remnant" of our waking
thoughts and deeds move and stir within the soul.
9
Vaschide even maintains that it has often
been observed that in one's dreams one speaks
foreign languages more fluently and with greater
purity than in the waking state.
10
See Vaschide, p. 232.
11
Vaschide, p. 233
12
That every impression, even the most
13
From subsequent experience I am able to
14
Chauffeurs were bands of robbers in the
Vendee who resorted to this form of torture.
15
A sort of relation which is, however,
neither unique nor exclusive.
16
Gigantic persons in a dream justify the
assumption that the dream is dealing with a scene
from the dreamer's childhood. This interpretation of
the dream as a reminiscence of Gulliver's Travels is,
by the way, a good example of how an
interpretation should not be made. The dream-
interpreter should not permit his own intelligence to
psychic.
20
The thoughts of our dreams come from
outside.
21
Periodically recurrent dreams have been
observed repeatedly. Compare the collection made
by Chabaneix.
22
...The observation of dreams has its
special difficulties, and the only way to avoid all
error in such matter is to put on paper without the
least delay what has just been experienced and
noticed; otherwise, totally or partially the dream is
quickly forgotten; total forgetting is without
CHAPTER 1 (Part 2)
THE SCIENTIFIC LITERATURE OF
DREAM-PROBLEMS (UP TO 1900)
E. The Psychological Peculiarities of
Dreams
In our scientific investigation of dreams we
start with the assumption that dreams are a
phenomenon of our own psychic activity; yet the
completed dream appears to us as something alien,
whose authorship we are so little inclined to
recognize that we should be just as willing to say "A
No one has more strongly emphasized the
essential difference between dream-life and waking
life and drawn more far reaching conclusions from
this difference than G. Th. Fechner in certain
observations contained in his Elemente der
Psychophysik (Part II, p. 520). He believes that
"neither the simple depression of conscious psychic
life under the main threshold," nor the distraction of
the attention from the influences of the outer world,
made clear, nor has anybody else, to my knowledge,
followed the path which he indicates in this remark.
An anatomical interpretation in the sense of
physiological localization in the brain, or even a
histological stratification of the cerebral cortex, must
of course be excluded. The idea might, however,
prove ingenious and fruitful if it could refer to a
psychical apparatus built up of a number of
successive and connected systems.
ideas rather than in that of images. But the dream
thinks mainly in visual images, and it may be noted
that with the approach of sleep the voluntary
activities become impeded in proportion as
involuntary representations make their appearance,
the latter belonging entirely to the category of
images. The incapacity for such ideational activities
as we feel to be deliberately willed, and the
emergence of visual images, which is regularly
or imagined (probably with the help of remnants of
verbal conceptions). Characteristic of dreams,
however, are only those elements of their contents
which behave like images, that is, which more
closely resemble perceptions than mnemonic
representations. Without entering upon a discussion
of the nature of hallucinations- a discussion familiar
to every psychiatrist- we may say, with every well-
informed authority, that the dream hallucinates-
from the more or less corresponding waking
thought. From these images the dream creates a
situation; it represents something as actually
present; it dramatizes an idea, as Spitta (p. 145)
puts it. But the peculiar character of this aspect of
the dream-life is completely intelligible only if we
admit that in dreaming we do not as a rule (the
exceptions call for special examination) suppose
ourselves to be thinking, but actually experiencing;
perceptive faculties apprehend the products of
phantasy as though they were sensory activities...
(b) that sleep abrogates our voluntary action; hence
falling asleep involves a certain degree of passivity...
The images of sleep are conditioned by the
relaxation of our powers of will."
It now remains to account for the credulity
of the mind in respect to the dream-hallucinations
which are able to make their appearance only after
dreams, just as in the waking state, sensations and
images are transposed into outer space (p. 36). It
must therefore be admitted that in dreams the mind
preserves the same attitude in respect of images
and perceptions as in the waking state (p. 43). And
if it forms erroneous conclusions in respect of these
images and perceptions, this is due to the fact that
in sleep it is deprived of that criterion which alone
can distinguish between sensory perceptions
from the outer world is the very reason for its belief
in its subjective dream-world.
believe in the reality of dream-pictures because in
sleep we have no other impressions with which to
compare them; because we are cut off from the
outer world. But it is not because we are unable,
when asleep, to test our hallucinations that we
believe in their reality. Dreams can make us believe
that we are applying such tests- that we are
touching, say, the rose that we see in our dream;
and yet we are dreaming. According to Delboeuf
conspicuous characteristics of our dreams, it will be
worth our while to consider certain subtle
observations of Burdach's, which will throw some
light on the relation of the sleeping psyche to the
outer world, and at the same time serve to prevent
our over-estimating the importance of the above
deductions. "Sleep," says Burdach, "results only
under the condition that the mind is not excited by
sensory stimuli... yet it is not so much a lack of
never be awakened at all. The continuance of
sensation is even more plainly shown by the fact
that we are not always awakened by the mere force
of the sensory impression, but by its relation to the
psyche. An indifferent word does not arouse the
sleeper, but if called by name he wakes... so that
even in sleep the psyche discriminates between
sensations.... Hence one may even be awakened by
the obliteration of a sensory stimulus, if this is
cannot fully account for the strangeness of dreams.
For otherwise it would be possible to reconvert the
hallucinations of the dream into mental images, and
the situations of the dream into thoughts, and thus
to achieve the task of dream-interpretation. Now
this is precisely what we do when we reproduce a
dream from memory after waking, and no matter
whether we are fully or only partially successful in
this retranslation, the dream still remains as
mysterious as before.
Furthermore, all writers unhesitatingly
their connection with these images is severed; the
perceptual images of things, persons, localities,
events and actions of the waking state are,
individually, abundantly reproduced, but none of
these brings with it its psychic value. Deprived of
this, they hover in the mind dependent on their own
resources..."
This annihilation of psychic values, which is
in turn referred to a turning away from the outer
undisturbed, whether they are able to perform their
normal work under the circumstances. The idea
occurs to us that the peculiarities of the dream may
be explained by the restricted activity of the psyche
during sleep, and the impression made by the dream
upon our waking judgment tends to confirm this
view. The dream is incoherent; it reconciles, without
hesitation, the worst contradictions; it admits
impossibilities; it disregards the authoritative
least greatly impaired.
With unusual unanimity (the exceptions will
be dealt with elsewhere) the writers on the subject
have pronounced such judgments as lead
immediately to a definite theory or explanation of
dream-life. It is now time to supplement the resume
which I have just given by a series of quotations
from a number of authors- philosophers and
physicians- bearing upon the psychological
of the dream.
Maury agrees with him (Le Sommeil, p.
fonctions livrees a elles-memes et s'exercant sans
controle et sans but; dans le reve l'esprit est un
automate spirituel."[27]
"The relaxation, dissolution, and
promiscuous confusion of the world of ideas and
images held together in waking life by the logical
power of the central ego" is conceded even by
Volkelt (p. 14), according to whose theory the
psychic activity during sleep appears to be by no
means aimless.
The absurdity of the associations of ideas
preposterous behaviour. Withdrawing itself from the
strict policing of the rational will that guides our
waking ideas, and from the processes of attention,
the dream, in crazy sport, whirls all things about in
kaleidoscopic confusion."
Hildebrandt (p. 45): "What wonderful jumps
the dreamer permits himself, for instance, in his
chain of reasoning! With what unconcern he sees the
most familiar laws of experience turned upside
Poltava."
Binz (p. 33), referring to the theory of
dreams resulting from these impressions, says: "Of
ten dreams nine at least have an absurd content.
We unite in them persons or things which do not
bear the slightest relation to one another. In the
next moment, as in a kaleidoscope, the grouping
changes to one, if possible, even more nonsensical
and irrational than before; and so the shifting play
and thought."
Maury, Le Sommeil (p. 50) makes, in
paralytiques...."[29] For the rest, he considers the
dream "toute une serie de degradations de la faculte
pensante et raisonnante"[30] (p. 27).
It is hardly necessary to cite the utterances
of those authors who repeat Maury's assertion in
respect of the higher individual psychic activities.
According to Strumpell, in dreams- and
even, of course, where the nonsensical nature of the
dream is not obvious- all the logical operations of
conscious knowledge which occur in dreams are
explained by Stricker and many others on the
ground that facts are forgotten in dreams, or that
the logical relations between ideas are lost (p. 98),
etc., etc.
Those authors who, in general, judge so
unfavourably of the psychic activities of the dreamer
nevertheless agree that dreams do retain a certain
remnant of psychic activity. Wundt, whose teaching
psyche which is not affected by sleep, and which
thus directs our dreams. By sentiment (Gemut) he
means "the constant sum of the emotions as the
inmost subjective essence of the man" (p. 84).
Scholz (p. 37) sees in dreams a psychic
activity which manifests itself in the "allegorizing
interpretation" to which the dream-material is
subjected. Siebeck (p. 11) likewise perceives in
dreams a "supplementary interpretative activity" of
The laws of association which connect our
mental images hold good also for what is
represented in dreams; indeed, in dreams the
dominance of these laws is more obvious and
complete than in the waking state. Strumpell (p. 70)
says: "Dreams would appear to proceed either
exclusively in accordance with the laws of pure
representation, or in accordance with the laws of
organic stimuli accompanied by such
association, and, in accordance with the same laws,
they in turn evoke a new series of representations
(images). The whole of this material is then
elaborated as far as possible by the still active
remnant of the thinking and organizing faculties of
the psyche (cf. Wundt and Weygandt). Thus far,
however, no one has been successful in discerning
the motive which would decide what particular law
of association is to be obeyed by those images which
closer analogy between the dream-life and certain
mental derangements. He recognizes two main
characteristics of "deliria": "(1) une action
spontanee et comme automatique de l'esprit; (2)
une association vicieuse et irreguliere des idees"[31]
(p. 126). Maury gives us two excellent examples
from his own dreams, in which the mere similarity of
sound decides the connection between the dream-
representations. Once he dreamed that he was on a
island Gilolo." This was followed by a number of
pictures, in which he saw the flower lobelia, and
then General Lopez, of whose death he had read a
little while previously. Finally he awoke as he was
playing a game of lotto.[32]
We are, indeed, quite well aware that this
low estimate of the psychic activities of the dream
has not been allowed to pass without contradiction
from various quarters. Yet here contradiction would
perhaps not without its method- that it is perhaps
only a disguise, a dramatic pretence, like that of
Hamlet, to whose madness this perspicacious
judgment refers. These authors must either have
refrained from judging by appearances, or the
appearances were, in their case, altogether
different.
Without lingering over its superficial
absurdity, Havelock Ellis considers the dream as "an
about them, to impulses and activities which long
ago dominated us." A thinker like Delboeuf asserts-
without, indeed, adducing proof in the face of
contradictory data, and hence without real
justification- "Dans le sommeil, hormis la
perception, toutes les facultes de l'esprit,
intelligence, imagination, memoire, volonte,
moralite, restent intactes dans leur essence;
seulement, elles s'appliquent a des objets
l'occlusion des sens, dans leur fermeture au monde
exterieur; en sorte que l'homme qui dort ne se
distingue guere, selon sa maniere de voir, de
l'homme qui laisse vaguer sa pensee en se bouchant
les sens; toute la difference qui separe alors la
pensee ordinaire du celle du dormeur c'est que, chez
celui-ci, l'idee prend une forme visible, objective, et
ressemble, a s'y meprendre, a la sensation
determinee par les objets exterieurs; le souvenir
eveille."[37]
In Vaschide, who gives us fully information
as to Hervey's book, we find that this author
suivre la marche des idees, il faut savoir analyser le
tissu des reves; l'incoherence devient alors
comprehensible, les conceptions les plus fantasques
deviennent des faits simples et parfaitement
logiques"[38] (p. 146). And (p. 147): "Les reves les
plus bizarres trouvent meme une explication des
plus logiques quand on sait les analyser."[39]
J. Starke has drawn attention to the fact
that a similar solution of the incoherence of dreams
unrevealed, to an exaggerated over-estimation,
which sets the dream-life far above the capacities of
waking life. In his psychological characterization of
dream-life, Hildebrandt, as we know, groups it into
three antinomies, and he combines in the third of
these antinomies the two extreme points of this
scale of values (p. 19): "It is the contrast between,
on the one hand, an enhancement, an increase of
potentiality, which often amounts to virtuosity, and
human level."
allegory, an incomparable sense of humour, a
delightful irony. They see the world in the light of a
peculiar idealization, and often intensify the effect of
their phenomena by the most ingenious
understanding of the reality underlying them. They
show us earthly beauty in a truly heavenly radiance,
the sublime in its supremest majesty, and that
which we know to be terrible in its most frightful
form, while the ridiculous becomes indescribably and
it not suffice to state that everything is possible in
the dream, from the lowest degradation of the
psychic life to its flight to heights unknown in the
waking state? Convenient as such a solution might
be, it has this against it: that behind the efforts of
all the investigators of dreams there seems to lurk
the assumption that there is in dreams some
characteristic which is universally valid in its
essential features, and which must eliminate all
these contradictions.
It is unquestionably true that the mental
higher plane- all these seem hardly conceivable to
us today; they are repeated at present only by
mystics and devotees.[41] With the advance of a
scientific mode of thought a reaction took place in
the estimation of dreams. It is the medical writers
who are most inclined to underrate the psychic
activity in dreams, as being insignificant and
valueless; while philosophers and unprofessional
observers- amateur psychologists- whose
Among the superior accomplishments which
one may be tempted, even on a sober comparison,
to ascribe to the dream-life, that of memory is the
most impressive. We have fully discussed the by no
means rare experiences which prove this superiority.
Another privilege of the dream-life, often extolled by
the older writers- namely, the fact that it can
overstep the limitations of time and space- is easily
recognized as an illusion. This privilege, as
essays of Le Lorrain and Egger on The Apparent
Duration of Dreams gave rise to a long and
interesting discussion, which in all probability has
not yet found the final explanation of this profound
and delicate problem.[42]
That dreams are able to continue the
intellectual activities of the day and to carry them to
a point which could not be arrived at during the day,
that they may resolve doubts and problems, and
view has any basis whatever in fact, since it is quite
possible that a number of such cases may before
long be explained on purely natural psychological
grounds.
F. The Ethical Sense in Dreams
For reasons which will be intelligible only
after a consideration of my own investigations of
dreams, I have isolated from the psychology of the
dream the subsidiary problem as to whether and to
life.
assertion. Jessen says (p. 553): "Nor does one
become better or more virtuous during sleep; on the
contrary, it seems that conscience is silent in our
dreams, inasmuch as one feels no compassion and
can commit the worst crimes, such as theft, murder,
and homicide, with perfect indifference and without
subsequent remorse."
Radestock (p. 146) says: "It is to be noted
that in dreams associations are effected and ideas
state."
Utterances like those of Schopenhauer, that
in dreams every man acts and talks in complete
accordance with his character, are in sharpest
contradiction to those mentioned above. R. Ph.
Fischer[44] maintains that the subjective feelings
and desires, or affects and passions, manifest
themselves in the wilfulness of the dream-life, and
that the moral characteristics of a man are mirrored
in his dreams.
Haffner says (p. 25): "With rare
dreams, or, if he does, he is appalled by it as by
something foreign to his nature. The Roman
emperor who ordered one of his subjects to be
executed because he dreamed that he had cut off
the emperor's head was not far wrong in justifying
his action on the ground that he who has such
dreams must have similar thoughts while awake.
Significantly enough, we say of things that find no
place even in our intimate thoughts: 'I would never
are the best men who only dream the things which
problem of morality in dreams. For Hildebrandt, too,
it is an established rule that the purer the life, the
purer the dream; the impurer the life, the impurer
the dream.
The moral nature of man persists even in
dreams. "But while we are not offended or made
suspicious by an arithmetical error, no matter how
obvious, by a reversal of scientific fact, no matter
how romantic, or by an anachronism, no matter how
dreams" (p. 45, etc.).
In the further discussion of the subject we
find in both these groups of authors remarkable
evasions and inconsequences. Strictly speaking, all
interest in immoral dreams should be at an end for
those who assert that the moral personality of the
individual falls to pieces in his dreams. They could as
coolly reject all attempts to hold the dreamer
responsible for his dreams, or to infer from the
As a matter of fact, however, it would seem
that although no one is positively certain just how
good or how bad he is, he can hardly deny that he
can recollect immoral dreams of his own. That there
are such dreams no one denies; the only question
is: how do they originate? So that, in spite of their
conflicting judgments of dream-morality, both
groups of authors are at pains to explain the genesis
of the immoral dream; and here a new conflict
Haffner says (p. 24): "We are not responsible for our
dreams, because that basis which alone gives our
life truth and reality is withdrawn from our thoughts
and our will. Hence the wishes and actions of our
dreams cannot be virtuous or sinful." Yet the
dreamer is responsible for the sinful dream in so far
as indirectly he brings it about. Thus, as in waking
life, it is his duty, just before going to sleep, morally
to cleanse his mind.
The analysis of this admixture of denial and
recognition of responsibility for the moral content of
(p. 49): "If we wish to repudiate very
decisively any sort of unjust accusation, and
especially one which has reference to our intentions
and convictions, we use the expression: 'We should
never have dreamt of such a thing.' By this, it is
true, we mean on the one hand that we consider the
region of dreams the last and remotest place in
which we could be held responsible for our thoughts,
because there these thoughts are so loosely and
language of truth."
already passed through the mind during our waking
hours, in the form of wish, desire, or impulse."
Concerning this original impulse we must say: The
dream has not discovered it- it has only imitated
and extended it; it has only elaborated into dramatic
form a scrap of historical material which it found
already existing within us; it brings to our mind the
words of the Apostle that he who hates his brother is
a murderer. And though, after we wake, being
Thus Hildebrandt finds the source of the
immorality of dreams in the germs and hints of evil
impulses which pass through our minds during the
day as mental temptations, and he does not hesitate
to include these immoral elements in the ethical
evaluation of the personality. These same thoughts,
and the same evaluation of these thoughts, have, as
we know, caused devout and holy men of all ages to
lament that they were wicked sinners.[46]
grotesque and nonsensical; indeed, the greatest
thinkers have had cause to complain of this dream-
like, tormenting and distressing rabble of ideas,
which disturbs their profoundest contemplations and
their most pious and earnest meditations."
A clearer light is thrown on the psychological
meaning of these contrasting thoughts by a further
observation of Hildebrandt's, to the effect that
dreams permit us an occasional glimpse of the
surprise, a dream has more than once taught me
what I do really think of him and feel about him."
And J. H. Fichte expresses himself in a like manner:
"The character of our dreams gives a far truer
reflection of our general disposition than anything
that we can learn by self-observation in the waking
state." Such remarks as this of Benini's call our
attention to the fact that the emergence of impulses
which are foreign to our ethical consciousness is
according to Schleiermacher the state of falling
asleep is accompanied by the appearance of
undesired imaginings.
We may include in such "undesired
imaginings" the whole of that imaginative material
the occurrence of which surprises us in immoral as
well as in absurd dreams. The only important
difference consists in the fact that the undesired
imaginings in the moral sphere are in opposition to
others who share his fundamental opinion, cannot
be continued otherwise than by ascribing to the
immoral impulses, even in the waking state, a latent
vitality, which is indeed inhibited from proceeding to
action, and by asserting that during sleep something
falls away from us which, having the effect of an
inhibition, has kept us from becoming aware of the
existence of such impulses. Dreams therefore,
reveal the true, if not the whole, nature of the
has led a strictly virtuous life during his waking
state, if he has made an effort to suppress the sinful
thoughts as often as they arise, and has kept them
from maturing and turning into action. According to
this conception, we might designate as "undesired
imaginings" those that are suppressed during the
day, and we must recognize in their emergence a
genuine psychic phenomenon.
According to certain other authors, we have
does not ascribe to the dream-state the power of
dividing the psychic activity into its components,
instead of aimlessly destroying it. He speaks as
follows of dreams in which one oversteps the bounds
of morality: "Ce sont nos penchants qui parlent et
qui nous font agir, sans que la conscience nous
retienne, bien que parfois elle nous avertisse. J'ai
mes defauts et mes penchants vicieux; a l'etat de
veille, je tache de lutter contre eux, et il m'arrive
than in the words of Maury (p. 115): "En reve
l'homme se revele donc tout entier a soi-meme dans
sa nudite et sa misere natives. Des qu'il suspend
l'exercise de sa volonte, il devient le jouet de toutes
les passions contre lesquelles, a l'etat de veille, la
conscience, le sentiment d'honneur, la crainte nous
defendent."[48] In another place makes the striking
assertion (p. 462): "Dans le reve, c'est surtout
l'homme instinctif que se revele.... L'homme revient
of the automatisme psychologique which in his own
opinion dominates the dream-life. He conceives this
automatism as the complete opposite of psychic
activity.
A passage in Stricker's Studien uber das
Bewusstsein reads: "Dreams do not consist purely
and simply of delusions; for example, if one is afraid
of robbers in a dream, the robbers indeed are
imaginary, but the fear is real." Our attention is here
A statement concerning the dream which
seeks to explain as many as possible of its observed
characteristics from a single point of view, and
which at the same time defines the relation of the
dream to a more comprehensive sphere of
phenomena, may be described as a theory of the
dream. The individual theories of the dream will be
distinguished from one another by their designating
as essential this or that characteristic of dreams,
sent by the gods in order to guide the actions of
man was a complete theory of the dream, which told
them all that was worth knowing about dreams.
Since dreams have become an object of biological
research we have a greater number of theories,
some of which, however, are very incomplete.
Provided we make no claim to completeness,
we might venture on the following rough grouping of
dream-theories, based on their fundamental
and waking thought entirely from the conditions of
the sleeping state. Moreover, they lack one possible
access to a function of dreams; one does not
understand to what purpose one dreams- why the
complicated mechanism of the psychic apparatus
should continue to operate even when it is placed
under conditions to which it does not appear to be
adapted. There are only two purposeful reactions in
the place of the reaction of dreaming: to sleep
unserviceable. If I may draw a comparison from
psychiatry, I would say that the first group of
theories construes the dream like a paranoia, while
the second represents it as a type of mental
deficiency or amentia.
The theory that only a fragment of the
psychic activity paralysed by sleep finds expression
in dreams is that by far the most favoured by
medical writers, and by scientists in general. In so
betray themselves by their absurdity, to fully
concentrated intellectual activity, by a series of
states of progressive awakening, ending in complete
wakefulness.
Those who find the physiological mode of
expression indispensable, or who deem it more
scientific, will find this theory of dreams summarized
in Binz's description (p. 43):
"This state (of torpor), however, gradually
objective impressions of the immediate past,
combine with one another in a wild and uncontrolled
fashion. As the number of brain-cells set free
constantly increases, the irrationality of the dream
becomes constantly less."
The conception of the dream as an
incomplete, partial waking state, or traces of the
influence of this conception, will of course be found
in the works of all the modern physiologists and
the contrary, Binz, one of the chief proponents of
this theory, consistently enough denies that dreams
have any status or importance. He says (p. 357):
"All the facts, as we see them, urge us to
characterize the dream as a physical process, in all
cases useless, and in many cases definitely morbid."
The expression physical in reference to
dreams (the word is emphasized by the author)
points, of course, in more than one direction. In the
might be reflected in the phenomenon of dreaming.
But, as a matter of fact, it is not possible to protect
our sleep from stimuli; like the germs of life of which
Mephistopheles complained, stimuli come to the
sleeper from all directions- from without, from
within, and even from all those bodily regions which
never trouble us during the waking state. Thus our
sleep is disturbed; now this, now that little corner of
the psyche is jogged into the waking state, and the
illustrates in what esteem the dream is commonly
held by the representatives of exact science. Thus
conceived, it becomes something wholly
insusceptible of interpretation. How could the ten
fingers of a player ignorant of music perform a
musical composition?
The theory of partial wakefulness did not
escape criticism even by the earlier writers. Thus
Burdach wrote in 1830: "If we say that dreaming is
of his theory Robert takes two objectively
observable facts which we have already discussed in
our consideration of dream-material (chapter I., B).
These facts are: (1) that one very often dreams
about the most insignificant impressions of the day;
and (2) that one rarely carries over into the dream
the absorbing interests of the day. Robert asserts as
an indisputable fact that those matters which have
been fully settled and solved never evoke dreams,
reaction reaches the consciousness." Dreams are
eliminations of thoughts nipped in the bud. "A man
deprived of the capacity for dreaming would in time
become mentally unbalanced, because an immense
number of unfinished and unsolved thoughts and
superficial impressions would accumulate in his
brain, under the pressure of which all that should be
incorporated in the memory as a completed whole
would be stifled." The dream acts as a safety-valve
takes place in the mind during sleep. Robert himself
adds that the stimuli of the day are likewise
elaborated, and "what cannot be eliminated from the
undigested thought-material lying in the mind is
bound up into a completed whole by mental clues
borrowed from the imagination, and is thus enrolled
in the memory as a harmless phantasy-picture" (p.
23).
But it is in his criticism of the sources of
consciousness. It is admitted, however, that the
phantasy-images originating in the depths of the
mind may be influenced by nervous stimuli (p. 48).
Thus, according to Robert, dreams are not, after all,
wholly dependent on the somatic element. Dreaming
is, of course, not a psychic process, and it has no
place among the psychic processes of the waking
state; it is a nocturnal somatic process in the
apparatus of mental activity, and has a function to
day, or that we begin to dream of it only after it is
overshadowed by the other interests of the day. His
investigations in respect of other persons
corroborated the universality of this state of affairs.
Concerning the dreams of newly-married people, he
makes a comment which is admirable if it should
prove to be generally true: "S'ils ont ete fortement
epris, presque jamais ils n'ont reve l'un de l'autre
avant le mariage ou pendant la lune de miel; et s'ils
affected our senses more forcibly than our mind, or
from which the attention has been deflected soon
after their occurrence. The less conscious, and at
the same time the stronger an impression, the
greater the prospect of its playing a part in our next
dream.
These two categories of impressions- the
insignificant and the undisposed-of- are essentially
the same as those which were emphasized by
psychic energy accumulated during the day by
inhibition or suppression becomes the mainspring of
the dream at night. In dreams psychically
suppressed material achieves expression.[52]
Unfortunately Delage does not pursue this
line of thought any farther; he is able to ascribe only
the most insignificant role in our dreams to an
independent psychic activity, and thus, in his theory
of dreams, he reverts to the prevailing doctrine of a
sommeil."[53]
the capacity for and propensity to special psychic
activities, which in the waking state it is able to
exert either not at all or imperfectly. In most cases
the manifestation of these activities is held to result
in a useful function of dreams. The evaluations of
dreams by the earlier psychologists fall chiefly within
this category. I shall content myself, however, with
quoting in their stead the assertion of Burdach, to
the effect that dreaming "is the natural activity of
commonplace character of life, a free recreation of
the fettered phantasy, in which it intermingles all
the images of life and interrupts the constant
seriousness of the adult by the joyful play of the
child. Without the dream we should surely grow old
earlier, so that the dream may be considered, if not
precisely as a gift from above, yet as a delightful
exercise, a friendly companion on our pilgrimage to
the grave."
confidence; it appeases doubt by conviction and firm
belief, and vain expectation by realization. Sleep
heals many sore spots in the mind, which the day
keeps continually open, by covering them and
guarding them against fresh irritation. On this
depends in some degree the consoling action of
time." We all feel that sleep is beneficial to the
psychic life, and the vague surmise of the popular
consciousness is apparently loth to surrender the
of Scherner's theories made by the philosopher
Volkelt: "From these mystical conglomerations, from
all these outbursts of splendour and radiance, there
indeed flashes and shines an ominous semblance of
meaning; but the path of the philosopher is not
illumined thereby." Such is the criticism of
Scherner's exposition by one of his own followers.
Scherner is not one of those writers for
whom the mind carries its undiminished faculties
memory of the waking state, but with this material it
builds up structures which differ from those of the
waking state as day differs from night. In our
dreams it reveals itself as not only reproductive but
also productive. Its peculiarities give the dream-life
its singular character. It shows a preference for the
unlimited, the exaggerated, the prodigious; but by
its liberation from the inhibiting categories of
thought, it gains a greater flexibility and agility, and
dislikes expressing an object by its actual image, but
prefers to select an alien image, if only the latter is
able to express that particular aspect of the object
which it is anxious to represent. Such is the
symbolizing activity of the phantasy.... It is,
moreover, very significant that the dream-phantasy
reproduces objects not in detail, but only in outline,
and in the freest possible manner. Its paintings,
therefore, are like light and brilliant sketches. The
theory of Scherner, and perhaps too matter-of-fact
theories of Wundt and other physiologists, though
otherwise diametrically opposed to each other, are
in perfect agreement in their assumptions with
regard to dream-sources and dream-stimuli. But
whereas, according to the physiological theory, the
psychic reaction to the inner physical stimuli
becomes exhausted with the arousing of any of the
ideas appropriate to these stimuli (as these ideas
stimuli of the dream in question by any sort of
plastic symbolism. Indeed, Scherner holds- though
here Volkelt and others differ from him- that the
dream-phantasy has a certain favourite symbol for
the organism as a whole: namely, the house.
Fortunately, however, for its representations, it does
not seem to limit itself to this material; it may also
employ a whole series of houses to designate a
single organ; for example, very long streets of
ball-shaped, or simply hollow objects. The man's
dreams, when due to the sexual stimulus, make the
dreamer find in the street the upper portion of a
clarinet, or the mouthpiece of a tobacco-pipe, or,
again, a piece of fur. The clarinet and tobacco-pipe
represent the approximate form of the male sexual
organ, while the fur represents the pubic hair. In the
sexual dreams of the female, the tightness of the
closed thighs may be symbolized by a narrow
The dream-phantasy may, however, direct
its attention not merely to the form of the exciting
organ, but may even make the substance contained
therein the object of symbolization. Thus, for
example, the dream excited by the intestinal stimuli
may lead us through muddy streets, the dream due
to stimuli from the bladder to foaming water. Or the
stimulus as such, the nature of its excitation, and
the object which it covets, are represented
position in a system of philosophical ideas, which,
however, remains altogether too difficult of
comprehension for anyone who is not prepared by
previous training for the intuitive comprehension of
philosophical modes of thought.
Scherner attributes no useful function to the
activity of the symbolizing phantasy in dreams. In
dreams the psyche plays with the stimuli which are
offered to it. One might conjecture that it plays in a
of a subject which (though rich in its contents and
relations) has for thousands of years appeared
mysterious to humanity, and to the elucidation of
which science, strictly so called, has, as it confesses,
contributed nothing beyond attempting- in
uncompromising opposition to popular sentiment- to
deny its content and significance. Finally, let us
frankly admit that it seems as though we cannot
very well avoid the phantastical in our attempts to
to be the basis of a theory of dreams. For the
present, Scherner's theory of dreams, in contrast to
the medical theory, may perhaps lead us to realize
between what extremes the explanation of dream-
life is still unsteadily vacillating.
H. The Relation between Dreams and
Mental Diseases
When we speak of the relation of dreams to
mental derangement, we may mean three different
Radestock, Maury, and Tissie. Recently Sante de
Sanctis has directed his attention to this
relationship.[54] For the purposes of our discussion
it will suffice merely to glance at this important
subject.
As to the clinical and aetiological relations
between dreams and the psychoses, I will report the
following observations as examples: Hohnbaum
asserts (see Krauss) that the first attack of insanity
slight hysterical attacks, which, in their turn, were
followed by an anxious melancholic state. Fere (cited
by Tissie) refers to a dream which was followed by
hysterical paralysis. Here the dream is presented as
the aetiology of mental derangement, although we
should be making a statement equally consistent
with the facts were we to say that the first
manifestation of the mental derangement occurred
in the dream-life, that the disorder first broke
voices accusing a wife of infidelity). Tissie records
many observations of recent date in which behaviour
of a pathological character (based on delusory
hypotheses, obsessive impulses) had their origin in
dreams. Guislain describes a case in which sleep was
replaced by an intermittent insanity.
We cannot doubt that one day the physician
will concern himself not only with the psychology,
but also with the psycho-pathology of dreams.
has been undertaken as yet. On the other hand,
early attention was given to the inner relationship
between dreams and mental disturbances, a
relationship which is demonstrated by the complete
agreement of the manifestations occurring in each.
According to Maury, Cabanis, in his Rapports du
Physique et du Moral, was the first to call attention
to this relationship; he was followed by Lelut, J.
Moreau, and more particularly the philosopher Maine
ourselves may in dreams experience almost all the
manifestations which we observe in the asylums for
the insane."
The specific points of agreement in
consequence of which such a comparison commends
itself to our judgment are enumerated by Spitta,
who groups them (very much as Maury has done) as
follows: "(1) Suspension, or at least retardation of
self-consciousness, and consequently ignorance of
(perversities)."
Radestock adds a few additional data
concerning the analogous nature of the material of
dreams and of mental derangement: "The greatest
number of hallucinations and illusions are found in
the sphere of the senses of sight and hearing and
general sensation. As in dreams, the fewest
elements are supplied by the senses of smell and
taste. The fever-patient, like the dreamer, is
supposed possession of estates and the imaginary
fulfilment of wishes, the denial or destruction of
which have actually been a psychic cause of the
insanity, often form the main content of the
delirium. The woman who has lost a dearly beloved
child experiences in her delirium the joys of
maternity; the man who has suffered reverses of
fortune deems himself immensely wealthy; and the
jilted girl sees herself tenderly beloved."
judgment, is found alike in both, and the rapid flux
of imaginings in the dream corresponds to the flux
of ideas in the psychoses. Both are devoid of any
measure of time. The splitting of the personality in
dreams, which, for instance, distributes one's own
knowledge between two persons, one of whom, the
strange person, corrects one's own ego in the
dream, entirely corresponds with the well-known
splitting of the personality in hallucinatory paranoia;
that of many others, in the following words:
"Insanity, an abnormal morbid phenomenon, is to be
regarded as an enhancement of the periodically
recurring normal dream-state" (p. 228).
Krauss attempted to base the relationship
between the dream and insanity upon their aetiology
(or rather upon the sources of excitation), thus,
perhaps, making the relationship even more
intimate than was possible on the basis of the
represented as a useless and disturbing process,
and as the expression of a diminished psychic
activity. One cannot expect, for the present, to
derive the final explanation of the dream from the
psychic derangements, since, as is well known, our
understanding of the origin of the latter is still highly
unsatisfactory. It is very probable, however, that a
modified conception of the dream must also
influence our views regarding the inner mechanism
mystery of dreams.
ADDENDUM 1909
I shall have to justify myself for not
extending my summary of the literature of dream-
was decisive. The motives which induced me to
summarize the treatment of dreams in the literature
of the subject have been exhausted by the foregoing
introduction; to have continued this would have cost
me a great deal of effort and would not have been
particularly useful or instructive. For the interval in
question- a period of nine years- has yielded nothing
new or valuable as regards the conception of
dreams, either in actual material or in novel points
few reviews which have appeared in the scientific
journals are so full of misconceptions and lack of
comprehension that my only possible answer to my
critics would be a request that they should read this
book over again- or perhaps merely that they should
read it!
In the works of those physicians who make
use of the psycho-analytic method of treatment a
great many dreams have been recorded and
this laborious work is exceedingly poor in ideas, so
poor that one could never divine from it the
possibility of the problems which I have treated in
these pages.
I can think of only two publications which
touch on my own treatment of the dream-problems.
A young philosopher, H. Swoboda, who has ventured
to extend W. Fliess's discovery of biological
periodicity (in series of twenty-three and twenty-
this conclusion: I shall record in another place some
observations made with reference to Swoboda's
thesis, which did not, however, yield convincing
results. It gave me far greater pleasure to find by
chance, in an unexpected quarter, a conception of
the dream which is in complete agreement with the
essence of my own. The relevant dates preclude the
possibility that this conception was influenced by
reading my book: I must therefore hail this as the
ADDENDUM 1914
the literature of the subject. But the new situation
makes it even more impossible to continue the
foregoing summary. The Interpretation of Dreams
has evoked a whole series of new contentions and
problems, which have been expounded by the
authors in the most varied fashions. But I cannot
discuss these works until I have developed the
theories to which their authors have referred.
Whatever has appeared to me as valuable in this
Footnotes
23
Silberer has shown by excellent examples
24
Haffner, like Delboeuf, has attempted to
explain the act of dreaming by the alteration which
an abnormally introduced condition must have upon
the otherwise correct functioning of the intact
psychic apparatus; but he describes this condition in
somewhat different terms. He states that the first
distinguishing mark of dreams is the abolition of
time and space, i.e., the emancipation of the
representation from the individual's position in the
spatial and temporal order. Associated with this is
the second fundamental character of dreams, the
concerned, we are just as shrewd and just as free as
in the waking state. A man cannot violate the laws
of thought; that is, even in a dream he cannot judge
things to be identical which present themselves to
him as opposites. He can desire in a dream only that
which he regards as a good (sub ratione boni). But
in this application of the laws of thought and will the
human intellect is led astray in dreams by confusing
one notion with another. Thus it happens that in
25
Compare with this the element of
"Desinteret," in which Claparede (1905) finds the
mechanism of falling asleep.
26
There are no dreams which are absolutely
reasonable which do not contain some incoherence,
some absurdity.
27
The dream is psychic anarchy, emotional
and intellectual, the playing of functions, freed of
themselves and performing without control and
without end; in the dream, the mind is a spiritual
automaton.
28
There is no imaginable thing too absurd,
too involved, or too abnormal for us to dream about.
29
The production of those images which, in
31
An action of the mind spontaneous and as
though automatic; (2) a defective and irregular
association of ideas.
32
Later on we shall be able to understand the
meaning of dreams like these which are full of words
with similar sounds or the same initial letters.
33
The dream is neither pure derangement
nor pure irrationality.
34
In sleep, excepting perception, all the
faculties of the mind intellect, imagination, memory,
will, morality- remain intact in their essence; only,
his senses; the whole difference, then, between
ordinary thought and that of the sleeper, is that with
the latter the idea takes an objective and visible
shape, which resembles, to all appearances,
sensation determined by exterior objects; memory
takes on the appearance of present fact.
37
That there is a further and important
difference in that the mental faculties of the sleeping
man do not offer the equilibrium which they keep in
39
Even the most bizarre dreams find a most
logical explanation when one knows how to analyse
them.
40
Cf. Haffner and Spitta.
41
That brilliant mystic, Du Prel, one of the
few writers for the omission of whose name in
earlier editions of this book I should like to
apologize, has said that, so far as the human mind
is concerned, it is not the waking state but dreams
which are the gateway to metaphysics (Philosophie
der Mystik, p. 59).
42
For the further literature of the subject,
and a critical discussion of these problems, the
(Paris, 1900).
43
Compare Havelock Ellis's criticism in The
45
Das Traumleben und seine Deutung, 1868
(cited by Spitta, p. 192).
46
It is not uninteresting to consider the
attitude of the Inquisition to this problem. In the
Tractatus de Officio sanctissimae Inquisitionis of
Thomas Carena (Lyons edit., 1659) one finds the
following passage: "Should anyone utter heresies in
his dreams, the inquisitors shall consider this a
reason for investigating his conduct in life, for that is
wont to return in sleep which occupies a man during
the day" (Dr. Ehniger, St. Urban, Switzerland).
47
Our tendencies speak and make us act,
without being restrained by our conscience, although
repel.
48
In a dream, a man is totally revealed to
himself in his naked and wretched state. As he
suspends the exercise of his will, he becomes the
toy of all the passions from which, when awake, our
conscience, horror, and fear defend us.
49
In a dream, it is above all the instinctive
man who is revealed.... Man returns, so to speak, to
the natural state when he dreams; but the less
acquired ideas have penetrated into his mind, the
more his "tendencies to disagreement" with them
keep their hold on him in his dreams.
50
If they are very much in love, they have
almost never dreamed of each other before the
night are the unhappy relics that we neglected while
awake. The dream is often the revenge of things
scorned or the reproach of beings deserted.]
53
In short, the dream is the product of
wandering thought, without end or direction,
successively fixing on memories which have retained
sufficient intensity to put themselves in the way and
block the passage, establishing between themselves
a connection sometimes weak and loose, sometimes
sleep.
54
Among the more recent authors who have
occupied themselves with these relations are: Fere,
madness.
56
The learned are not inquisitive.
57
H. Swoboda, Die Perioden des
Menschlichen Organismus, 1904.
CHAPTER 2
THE METHOD OF DREAM INTERPRETATION
The Analysis of a Specimen Dream
The epigraph on the title-page of this
volume indicates the tradition to which I prefer to
ally myself in my conception of the dream. I am
proposing to show that dreams are capable of
interpretation; and any contributions to the solution
of the problems which have already been discussed
will emerge only as possible by-products in the
accomplishment of my special task. On the
all, but a somatic process which makes itself known
to the psychic apparatus by means of symbols. Lay
opinion has always been opposed to these theories.
It asserts its privilege of proceeding illogically, and
although it admits that dreams are incomprehensible
and absurd, it cannot summon up the courage to
deny that dreams have any significance. Led by a
dim intuition, it seems rather to assume that dreams
have a meaning, albeit a hidden one; that they are
very outset in the case of those dreams which are
not only unintelligible but confused. The construction
which the biblical Joseph placed upon the dream of
Pharaoh furnishes an example of this method. The
seven fat kine, after which came seven lean ones
that devoured the former, were a symbolic
substitute for seven years of famine in the land of
Egypt, which according to the prediction were to
consume all the surplus that seven fruitful years had
A demonstration of the manner in which one
arrives at such a symbolic interpretation cannot, of
course, be given. Success remains a matter of
ingenious conjecture, of direct intuition, and for this
reason dream-interpretation has naturally been
elevated into an art which seems to depend upon
extraordinary gifts.[2] The second of the two
popular methods of dream- interpretation entirely
abandons such claims. It might be described as the
character of purely mechanical transference is to a
certain extent corrected, is presented in the work on
dream-interpretation by Artemidoros of Daldis.[3]
Here not only the dream-content, but also the
personality and social position of the dreamer are
taken into consideration, so that the same dream-
content has a significance for the rich man, the
married man, or the orator, which is different from
that which applies to the poor man, the bachelor, or,
method.[4]
The worthlessness of both these popular
methods of interpretation does not admit of
discussion. As regards the scientific treatment of the
subject, the symbolic method is limited in its
application, and is not susceptible of a general
exposition. In the cipher method everything depends
upon whether the key, the dream-book, is reliable,
and for that all guarantees are lacking. So that one
might be tempted to grant the contention of the
fanciful.[5]
interpretation is possible. I arrived at my knowledge
of this method in the following manner:
For years I have been occupied with the
resolution of certain psycho-pathological structures-
hysterical phobias, obsessional ideas, and the like-
with therapeutic intentions. I have been so occupied,
in fact, ever since I heard the significant statement
of Joseph Breuer, to the effect that in these
structures, regarded as morbid symptoms, solution
which the technique of this procedure has finally
assumed, and of the results of my efforts. In the
course of these psycho-analytic studies, I happened
upon the question of dream-interpretation. My
patients, after I had pledged them to inform me of
all the ideas and thoughts which occurred to them in
connection with a given theme, related their
dreams, and thus taught me that a dream may be
interpolated in the psychic concatenation, which
attention it is advantageous that the patient should
take up a restful position and close his eyes; he
must be explicitly instructed to renounce all criticism
of the thought-formations which he may perceive.
He must also be told that the success of the psycho-
analysis depends upon his noting and
communicating everything that passes through his
mind, and that he must not allow himself to
suppress one idea because it seems to him
observation; this is shown even by the tense
attitude and the wrinkled brow of the man in a state
of reflection, as opposed to the mimic tranquillity of
the man observing himself. In both cases there must
be concentrated attention, but the reflective man
makes use of his critical faculties, with the result
that he rejects some of the thoughts which rise into
consciousness after he has become aware of them,
and abruptly interrupts others, so that he does not
interpretation of pathological ideas, and also that of
dream-formations. As will be seen, the point is to
induce a psychic state which is in some degree
analogous, as regards the distribution of psychic
energy (mobile attention), to the state of the mind
before falling asleep- and also, of course, to the
hypnotic state. On falling asleep the undesired ideas
emerge, owing to the slackening of a certain
arbitrary (and, of course, also critical) action, which
into desired ones.
There are many people who do not seem to
find it easy to adopt the required attitude toward the
apparently "freely rising" ideas, and to renounce the
criticism which is otherwise applied to them. The
"undesired ideas" habitually evoke the most violent
resistance, which seeks to prevent them from
coming to the surface. But if we may credit our
great poet-philosopher Friedrich Schiller, the
at the gates. Regarded in isolation, an idea may be
quite insignificant, and venturesome in the extreme,
but it may acquire importance from an idea which
follows it; perhaps, in a certain collocation with
other ideas, which may seem equally absurd, it may
be capable of furnishing a very serviceable link. The
intellect cannot judge all these ideas unless it can
retain them until it has considered them in
connection with these other ideas. In the case of a
And yet, such a withdrawal of the watchers
from the gates of the intellect, as Schiller puts it,
such a translation into the condition of uncritical
self-observation, is by no means difficult.
Most of my patients accomplish it after my
first instructions. I myself can do so very
completely, if I assist the process by writing down
the ideas that flash through my mind. The quantum
of psychic energy by which the critical activity is
attention is to be fixed.
The first step in the application of this
then, in connection with each fragment, he gives me
a number of ideas which may be described as the
thoughts behind this part of the dream. In this first
and important condition, then, the method of
dream-interpretation which I employ diverges from
the popular, historical and legendary method of
interpretation by symbolism and approaches more
nearly to the second or cipher method. Like this, it is
an interpretation in detail, not en masse; like this, it
reject them. The theme to which these dreams point
is, of course, always the history of the malady that
is responsible for the neurosis. Hence every dream
would require a very long introduction, and an
investigation of the nature and aetiological
conditions of the psychoneuroses, matters which are
in themselves novel and exceedingly strange, and
which would therefore distract attention from the
dream- problem proper. My purpose is rather to
less easy than that of the popular cipher method,
which translates the given dream-content by
reference to an established key; I, on the contrary,
hold that the same dream-content may conceal a
different meaning in the case of different persons, or
in different connections. I must, therefore, resort to
my own dreams as a source of abundant and
convenient material, furnished by a person who is
more or less normal, and containing references to
intimate details of one's own psychic life, and one
does not feel secure against the misinterpretations
of strangers. But one must be able to transcend
such considerations. "Tout psychologiste," writes
Delboeuf, "est oblige de faire l'aveu meme de ses
faiblesses s'il croit par la jeter du jour sur quelque
probleme obscur."[7] And I may assume for the
reader that his initial interest in the indiscretions
which I must commit will very soon give way to an
Preliminary Statement
In the summer of 1895 I had treated
psycho-analytically a young lady who was an
intimate friend of mine and of my family. It will be
understood that such complicated relations may
excite manifold feelings in the physician, and
especially the psychotherapist. The personal interest
of the physician is greater, but his authority less. If
he fails, his friendship with the patient's relatives is
in danger of being undermined. In this case,
however, the treatment ended in partial success;
realize that these words of my friend Otto's, or the
tone of voice in which they were spoken, annoyed
me. I thought I heard a reproach in the words,
perhaps to the effect that I had promised the patient
too much, and- rightly or wrongly- I attributed
Otto's apparent taking sides against me to the
influence of the patient's relatives, who, I assumed,
had never approved of my treatment. This
disagreeable impression, however, did not become
"solution." I say to her: "If you still have pains, it is
really only your own fault."- She answers: "If you
only knew what pains I have now in the throat,
stomach, and abdomen- I am choked by them." I
am startled, and look at her. She looks pale and
puffy. I think that after all I must be overlooking
some organic affection. I take her to the window and
look into her throat. She offers some resistance to
this, like a woman who has a set of false teeth. I
to an infiltrated portion of skin on the left shoulder
(which I can feel, in spite of the dress).... M says:
"There's no doubt that it's an infection, but it doesn't
matter; dysentery will follow and the poison will be
eliminated." ... We know, too, precisely how the
infection originated. My friend Otto, not long ago,
gave her, when she was feeling unwell, an injection
of a preparation of propyl... propyls... propionic
acid... trimethylamin (the formula of which I see
had knowledge of the content of the dream, could
guess what the dream signified. Nor do I myself
know. I am puzzled by the morbid symptoms of
which Irma complains in the dream, for they are not
the symptoms for which I treated her. I smile at the
nonsensical idea of an injection of propionic acid,
and at Dr. M's attempt at consolation. Towards the
end the dream seems more obscure and quicker in
tempo than at the beginning. In order to learn the
Analysis
come to us as guests for her birthday. My dream,
then, anticipates this situation: It is my wife's
birthday, and we are receiving a number of people,
among them Irma, as guests in the large hall of
Bellevue.
I reproach Irma for not having accepted the
"solution." I say, "If you still have pains, it is really
your own fault." I might even have said this while
awake; I may have actually said it. At that time I
which she still suffers. If it is Irma's own fault, it
cannot be mine. Should the purpose of the dream be
looked for in this quarter?
Irma's complaints- pains in the neck,
abdomen, and stomach; she is choked by them.
Pains in the stomach belonged to the symptom-
complex of my patient, but they were not very
prominent; she complained rather of qualms and a
feeling of nausea. Pains in the neck and abdomen
many manifestations which other physicians treat as
organic. On the other hand, I am haunted by a faint
doubt- I do not know whence it comes- whether my
alarm is altogether honest. If Irma's pains are
indeed of organic origin, it is not my duty to cure
them. My treatment, of course, removes only
hysterical pains. It seems to me, in fact, that I wish
to find an error in the diagnosis; for then I could not
be reproached with failure to effect a cure.
with this case.- "She surely does not need them," is
perhaps in the first place a compliment to Irma; but
I suspect yet another meaning. In a careful analysis
one is able to feel whether or not the arriere-
pensees which are to be expected have all been
exhausted. The way in which Irma stands at the
window suddenly reminds me of another experience.
Irma has an intimate woman friend of whom I think
very highly. One evening, on paying her a visit, I
with the supposition that this lady, too, might ask
me to relieve her of her symptoms. But even at the
time I thought it improbable, since she is extremely
reserved. She resists, as the dream shows. Another
explanation might be that she does not need it; in
fact, until now she has shown herself strong enough
to master her condition without outside help. Now
only a few features remain, which I can assign
neither to Irma nor to her friend; pale, puffy, false
Perhaps that I wish to exchange her; either her
friend arouses in me stronger sympathies, or I have
a higher regard for her intelligence. For I consider
Irma foolish because she does not accept my
solution. The other woman would be more sensible,
and would thus be more likely to yield. The mouth
then opens readily; she would tell more than
Irma.[11]
What I see in the throat: a white spot and
gravely reproached in consequence. A dear friend,
who had died before the date of this dream, had
hastened his end by the misuse of this remedy.
I quickly call Dr. M, who repeats the
examination. This would simply correspond to the
position which M occupied among us. But the word
quickly is striking enough to demand a special
examination. It reminds me of a sad medical
experience. By continually prescribing a drug
Matilda for that Matilda; an eye for an eye, a tooth
for a tooth. It is as though I were seeking every
opportunity to reproach myself for a lack of medical
conscientiousness.
Dr. M is pale; his chin is shaven, and he
limps. Of this so much is correct, that his unhealthy
appearance often arouses the concern of his friends.
The other two characteristics must belong to another
person. An elder brother living abroad occurs to me,
calls attention to a dulness low down on the left
side. My friend Leopold also is a physician, and a
relative of Otto's. Since the two practice the same
specialty, fate has made them competitors, so that
they are constantly being compared with one
another. Both of them assisted me for years, while I
was still directing a public clinic for neurotic children.
There, scenes like that reproduced in my dream had
often taken place. While I would be discussing the
of one of the tracks along which the association of
ideas in the dream proceeds: from the sick child to
the children's clinic. Concerning the dulness low on
the left side, I have the impression that it
corresponds with a certain case of which all the
details were similar, a case in which Leopold
impressed me by his thoroughness. I thought
vaguely, too, of something like a metastatic
affection, but it might also be a reference to the
the upper posterior left"; this would refer to the
lungs, and thus, once more, to tuberculosis.
In spite of the dress. This, to be sure, is only
an interpolation. At the clinic the children were, of
course, examined undressed; here we have some
contrast to the manner in which adult female
patients have to be examined. The story used to be
told of an eminent physician that he always
examined his patients through their clothes. The rest
diphtheritis. Leopold demonstrates the existence of
such a general infection by the dulness, which also
suggests a metastatic focus. I believe, however, that
just this kind of metastasis does not occur in the
case of diphtheria. It reminds me rather of pyaemia.
It doesn't matter is a consolation. I believe it
fits in as follows: The last part of the dream has
yielded a content to the effect that the patient's
sufferings are the result of a serious organic
fact which needs explanation.
But why is this consolation so nonsensical?
Dysentery. Some sort of far-fetched
theoretical notion that the toxins of disease might be
eliminated through the intestines. Am I thereby
trying to make fun of Dr. M's remarkable store of
far- fetched explanations, his habit of conceiving
curious pathological relations? Dysentery suggests
something else. A few months ago I had in my care
fooled by the hysteria; yet I cannot help reproaching
myself for putting the invalid in a position where he
might contract some organic affection of the bowels
in addition to his hysteria. Furthermore, dysentery
sounds not unlike diphtheria, a word which does not
occur in the dream.
Yes, it must be the case that with the
consoling prognosis, Dysentery will develop, etc., I
am making fun of Dr. M, for I recollect that years
confirmation, the thought enters my mind: "Does
Dr. M know that the appearances in Irma's friend,
his patient, which gave him reason to fear
tuberculosis, are likewise due to hysteria? Has he
recognized this hysteria, or has he allowed himself
to be fooled?"
But what can be my motive in treating this
friend so badly? That is simple enough: Dr. M agrees
with my solution as little as does Irma herself. Thus,
related during his short visit to Irma's family that he
had been called in to a neighbouring hotel in order
to give an injection to someone who had been
suddenly taken ill. Injections remind me once more
of the unfortunate friend who poisoned himself with
cocaine. I had recommended the remedy for internal
use only during the withdrawal of morphia; but he
immediately gave himself injections of cocaine.
With a preparation of propyl... propyls...
either." The smell of fusel oil (amyl...) has now
apparently awakened my memory of the whole
series: propyl, methyl, etc., which furnished the
preparation of propyl mentioned in the dream. Here,
indeed, I have effected a substitution: I dreamt of
propyl after smelling amyl; but substitutions of this
kind are perhaps permissible, especially in organic
chemistry. -
Trimethylamin. In the dream I see the
products of sexual metabolism. This substance thus
leads me to sexuality, the factor to which I attribute
the greatest significance in respect of the origin of
these nervous affections which I am trying to cure.
My patient Irma is a young widow; if I am required
to excuse my failure to cure her, I shall perhaps do
best to refer to this condition, which her admirers
would be glad to terminate. But in what a singular
fashion such a dream is fitted together! The friend
knowledge of the results of affections of the nose
and the sinuses, and has revealed to science several
highly remarkable relations between the turbinal
bones and the female sexual organs. (The three
curly formations in Irma's throat.) I got him to
examine Irma, in order to determine whether her
gastric pains were of nasal origin. But he himself
suffers from suppurative rhinitis, which gives me
concern, and to this perhaps there is an allusion in
injections of the drug should be taken. I note that in
reproaching Otto I once more touch upon the story
of the unfortunate Matilda, which was the pretext for
the same reproach against me. Here, obviously, I
am collecting examples of my conscientiousness,
and also of the reverse.
Probably too the syringe was not clean.
Another reproach directed at Otto, but originating
elsewhere. On the previous day I happened to meet
memory, involving my wife, Irma, and the dead
Matilda, whose identity has apparently justified my
putting these three persons in one another's places.
I have now completed the interpretation of
the dream.[14] In the course of this interpretation I
have taken great pains to avoid all those notions
which must have been suggested by a comparison of
the dream-content with the dream-thoughts hidden
behind this content. Meanwhile the meaning of the
me of responsibility for Irma's condition, as it refers
this condition to other causes (which do, indeed,
furnish quite a number of explanations). The dream
represents a certain state of affairs, such as I might
wish to exist; the content of the dream is thus the
fulfilment of a wish; its motive is a wish.
This much is apparent at first sight. But
many other details of the dream become intelligible
when regarded from the standpoint of wish-
on the disobedient patient, by exchanging her for a
more sensible and more docile one. Nor do I pass
over Dr. M's contradiction; for I express, in an
obvious allusion, my opinion of him: namely, that
his attitude in this case is that of an ignoramus
(Dysentery will develop, etc.). Indeed, it seems as
though I were appealing from him to someone
better informed (my friend, who told me about
trimethylamin), just as I have turned from Irma to
sufferings are satisfactorily explained by her
widowhood (trimethylamin!); a state which I cannot
alter. Irma's illness has been caused by an
incautious injection administered by Otto, an
injection of an unsuitable drug, such as I should
never have administered. Irma's complaint is the
result of an injection made with an unclean syringe,
like the phlebitis of my old lady patient, whereas my
injections have never caused any ill effects. I am
valid, the man must be acquitted.
Still other themes play a part in the dream,
and their relation to my non-responsibility for Irma's
illness is not so apparent: my daughter's illness, and
that of a patient with the same name; the
harmfulness of cocaine; the affection of my patient,
who was traveling in Egypt; concern about the
health of my wife; my brother, and Dr. M; my own
physical troubles, and anxiety concerning my absent
perform what you promise." Thereupon this train of
thought placed itself at my service, in order that I
might give proof of my extreme conscientiousness,
of my intimate concern about the health of my
relatives, friends and patients. Curiously enough,
there are also some painful memories in this
material, which confirm the blame attached to Otto
rather than my own exculpation. The material is
apparently impartial, but the connection between
nevertheless, unmistakable.
I do not wish to assert that I have entirely
considerations as are always involved in every
dream of one's own prevent me from interpreting it
farther. Those who are overready to condemn such
reserve should make the experiment of trying to be
more straightforward. For the present I am content
with the one fresh discovery which has just been
made: If the method of dream- interpretation here
indicated is followed, it will be found that dreams do
really possess a meaning, and are by no means the
Footnotes
[1] In a novel Gradiva, by the poet W.
Jensen, I chanced to discover several fictitious
inquiry, that he was unacquainted with my theory of
dreams. I have made use of this agreement between
my investigations and the creations of the poet as a
proof of the correctness of my method of dream-
analysis (Der Wahn und die Traume in W. Jenson's
Gradiva, vol. i of the Schriften zur angewandten
Seelenkunde, 1906, edited by myself, Ges.
Schriften, vol. ix).
[2] Aristotle expressed himself in this
consideration that dreams ought to be interpreted
on the basis of observation and experience, and he
drew a definite line between his own art and other
methods, which he considered fraudulent. The
principle of his art of interpretation is, according to
Gompertz, identical with that of magic: i.e., the
principle of association. The thing dreamed meant
what it recalled to the memory- to the memory, of
course, of the dream-interpreter! This fact- that the
seem that the modern dream- interpreters of the
Orient likewise attribute much importance to the co-
operation of the dreamer. Of the dream-interpreters
among the Mesopotamian Arabs this writer relates
as follows: "Pour interpreter exactement un songe
les oniromanciens les plus habiles s'informent de
ceux qui les consultent de toutes les circonstances
qu'ils regardent necessaires pour la bonne
explication.... En un mot, nos oniromanciens ne
information in respect to near relatives (parents,
wife, children) as well as the following formula:
habistine in hoc nocte copulam conjugalem ante vel
post somnium [Did you this night have conjugal
copulation before or after the dream?] "L'idee
dominante dans l'interpretation des songes consiste
a expliquer le reve par son oppose." [The dominant
idea in the interpretation of dreams consists in
explaining the dream by its opposite.]
interpretation which has come down to us from
antiquity is based on a play upon words.
Artemidoros relates the following (p. 225): "But it
seems to me that Aristandros gave a most happy
interpretation to Alexander of Macedon. When the
latter held Tyros encompassed and in a state of
siege, and was angry and depressed over the great
waste of time, he dreamed that he saw a Satyr
dancing on his shield. It happened that Aristandros
with my work in attempting to prove that the dream
is full of meaning and capable of interpretation. But
the interpretation is undertaken by means of an
allegorizing symbolism, and there is no guarantee
that the procedure is generally applicable.
[6] Studien uber Hysterie, 1895. [Compare
page 26 above.]
[7] Every psychologist is obliged to admit
even his own weaknesses, if he thinks by that he
the occasions on which her shyness became evident
to me. I must admit that I do not treat Irma and my
wife very gallantly in this dream, but let it be said,
in my defence, that I am measuring both of them
against the ideal of the courageous and docile
female patient.
[11] I suspect that the interpretation of this
portion has not been carried far enough to follow
every hidden meaning. If I were to continue the
[14] Even if I have not, as might be
expected, accounted for everything that occurred to
me in connection with the work of interpretation.
CHAPTER 3
THE DREAM AS WISH-FULFILMENT
When, after passing through a narrow defile,
one suddenly reaches a height beyond which the
ways part and a rich prospect lies outspread in
different directions, it is well to stop for a moment
and consider whither one shall turn next. We are in
somewhat the same position after we have
mastered this first interpretation of a dream. We
find ourselves standing in the light of a sudden
discovery. The dream is not comparable to the
dream, as this theory defines it, represents a
fulfilled wish, what is the cause of the striking and
unfamiliar manner in which this fulfilment is
expressed? What transformation has occurred in our
dream-thoughts before the manifest dream, as we
remember it on waking, shapes itself out of them?
How has this transformation taken place? Whence
comes the material that is worked up into the
dream? What causes many of the peculiarities which
(the dream about Irma's injection) with which we
have begun our analysis; for even if we conclude
that every dream has a meaning and psychic value,
we must nevertheless allow for the possibility that
this meaning may not be the same in every dream.
The first dream which we have considered was the
fulfilment of a wish; another may turn out to be the
realization of an apprehension; a third may have a
reflection as its content; a fourth may simply
dreams? -
dream, which has always the same content, namely,
that I am drinking. I am drinking long draughts of
water; it tastes as delicious as only a cool drink can
taste when one's throat is parched; and then I
wake, and find that I have an actual desire to drink.
The cause of this dream is thirst, which I perceive
when I wake. From this sensation arises the wish to
drink, and the dream shows me this wish as fulfilled.
It thereby serves a function, the nature of which I
emptied the glass of water which stood on the little
chest beside my bed. Some hours later, during the
night, my thirst returned, with the consequent
discomfort. In order to obtain water, I should have
had to get up and fetch the glass which stood on my
wife's bed- table. I thus quite appropriately dreamt
that my wife was giving me a drink from a vase; this
vase was an Etruscan cinerary urn, which I had
brought home from Italy and had since given away.
increasingly salty taste, which I know will compel
me to wake. [1] -
Such convenience-dreams came very
frequently to me in my youth. Accustomed as I had
always been to working until late at night, early
waking was always a matter of difficulty. I used then
to dream that I was out of bed and standing at the
wash-stand. After a while I could no longer shut out
the knowledge that I was not yet up; but in the
in the hospital, of a bed in which he was lying, and
of a chart pinned over his head, which read as
follows: "Pepi M, medical student, 22 years of age."
He told himself in the dream: "If I am already at the
hospital, I don't have to go there," turned over, and
slept on. He had thus frankly admitted to himself his
motive for dreaming.
Here is yet another dream of which the
stimulus was active during sleep: One of my women
Meyer was lying in the sanatorium and complaining
pitifully on account of pains in his jaw. I said to
myself, 'Since I haven't the pains, I don't need the
apparatus either'; that's why I threw it away." The
dream of this poor sufferer reminds me of an
expression which comes to our lips when we are in a
disagreeable situation: "Well, I can imagine more
amusing things!" The dream presents these "more
amusing things!" Herr Karl Meyer, to whom the
that she was having her menses. You will know what
that means." Of course I know: if the young wife
have liked to enjoy her freedom a little longer,
before the discomforts of maternity began. It was a
clever way of giving notice of her first pregnancy.
Another friend writes that his wife had dreamt not
long ago that she noticed milk-stains on the front of
her blouse. This also is an indication of pregnancy,
but not of the first one; the young mother hoped
she would have more nourishment for the second
child than she had for the first.
Obviously the dream is to be translated thus: "It is
about time now for something more entertaining
than this eternal nursing."
Perhaps this collection will suffice to prove
that frequently, and under the most complex
conditions, dreams may be noted which can be
understood only as wish-fulfilments, and which
present their content without concealment. In most
cases these are short and simple dreams, and they
structure of the higher orders of animals. Hitherto
but few deliberate efforts have been made to make
use of the psychology of the child for such a
purpose.
The dreams of little children are often simple
fulfilments of wishes, and for this reason are, as
compared with the dreams of adults, by no means
interesting. They present no problem to be solved,
but they are invaluable as affording proof that the
children.
For two dreams, one that of a daughter of
distinguish the Simony hut. The children often tried
to see it through the telescope- I do not know with
what success. Before the excursion I had told the
children that Hallstatt lay at the foot of the
Dachstein. They looked forward to the outing with
the greatest delight. From Hallstatt we entered the
valley of Eschern, which enchanted the children with
its constantly changing scenery. One of them,
however, the boy of five, gradually became
which had been so often mentioned when the
telescope was used. When he learned that he was
expected to content himself with foot-hills and a
waterfall he was disappointed, and became
discontented. But the dream compensated him for
all this. I tried to learn some details of the dream;
they were scanty. "You go up steps for six hours,"
as he had been told.
On this excursion the girl of eight and a half
evidently had not inherited an understanding of
dream-interpretation, declared, just as the writers
we have quoted would have done: "That dream is
nonsense." The girl defended at least one part of the
dream, and from the standpoint of the theory of the
neuroses it is interesting to learn which part it was
that she defended: "That Emil was one of the family
was nonsense, but that about the bars of chocolate
wasn't." It was just this latter part that was obscure
behaved little guest enjoining the children, as they
were walking ahead of us, to wait until "papa" or
"mamma" had come up. For the little girl the dream
turned this temporary relationship into a permanent
adoption. Her affection could not as yet conceive of
any other way of enjoying her friend's company
permanently than the adoption pictured in her
dream, which was suggested by her brothers. Why
the bars of chocolate were thrown under the bed
reason, they had to be content with the promise that
they should go there some other day. Next morning
the little girl went to her father and told him, with a
satisfied air: "Papa, I dreamed last night that you
were with us at the Rohrer hut, and on the
Hameau." Thus, in the dream her impatience had
anticipated the fulfilment of the promise made by
her father.
Another dream, with which the picturesque
for the first time, and the trip had passed too quickly
for her. She did not want to leave the boat at the
fancies. He had ridden in a chariot with Achilles, with
Diomedes as charioteer. On the previous day he had
shown a lively interest in a book on the myths of
Greece which had been given to his elder sister.
If it can be admitted that the talking of
children in their sleep belongs to the sphere of
dreams, I can relate the following as one of the
earliest dreams in my collection: My youngest
daughter, at that time nineteen months old, vomited
indisposition to an over-plentiful consumption of
strawberries; so in her dream she avenged herself
for this opinion which met with her disapproval.[2]
When we call childhood happy because it
does not yet know sexual desire, we must not forget
what a fruitful source of disappointment and
renunciation, and therefore of dream- stimulation,
the other great vital impulse may be for the child.[3]
Here is a second example. My nephew, twenty-two
the day after the sacrifice on my birthday he woke
up joyfully with the announcement, which could
have referred only to a dream: "He [r] man eaten all
the cherries!"[4]
What animals dream of I do not know. A
proverb, for which I am indebted to one of my
pupils, professes to tell us, for it asks the question:
"What does the goose dream of?" and answers: "Of
maize."[5] The whole theory that the dream is the
we find that the reality surpasses our expectations.
Footnotes
[1] The facts relating to dreams of thirst
were known also to Weygandt, who speaks of them
as follows: "It is just this sensation of thirst which is
registered most accurately of all; it always causes a
representation of quenching the thirst. The manner
in which the dream represents the act of quenching
[2] The dream afterwards accomplished the
same purpose in the case of the child's
grandmother, who is older than the child by about
seventy years. After she had been forced to go
hungry for a day on account of the restlessness of
her floating kidney, she dreamed, being apparently
translated into the happy years of her girlhood, that
she had been asked out, invited to lunch and dinner,
and had at each meal been served with the most
delicious titbits.
[3] A more searching investigation into the
dreams, while, on the other hand, adults, in certain
circumstances, often have dreams of a simple and
infantile character. How rich in unsuspected content
the dreams of children no more than four or five
years of age may be is shown by the examples in
my "Analysis of a Phobia in a five-year old Boy,"
Collected Papers, III, and Jung's "Experiences
Concerning the Psychic Life of the Child," translated
by Brill, American Journal of Psychology. April, 1910.
dreams, which were never more vivid and more
numerous. Even those of our comrades with whom
dreaming was formerly exceptional had long stories
to tell in the morning, when we exchanged our
experiences in the world of phantasy. They all had
reference to that outside world which was now so far
removed from us, but they often fitted into our
immediate circumstances. An especially
characteristic dream was that in which one of our
The postman brought the post and gave a long
explanation of why it was so long delayed; he had
delivered it at the wrong address, and only with
great trouble was he able to get it back. To be sure,
we were often occupied in our sleep with still more
impossible things, but the lack of phantasy in almost
all the dreams which I myself dreamed, or heard
others relate, was quite striking. It would certainly
have been of great psychological interest if all these
invariably of plenteous meals."
[5] A Hungarian proverb cited by Ferenczi
states more explicitly that "the pig dreams of
acorns, the goose of maize." A Jewish proverb asks:
"Of what does the hen dream?"- "Of millet"
(Sammlung jud. Sprichw. u. Redensarten., edit. by
Bernstein, 2nd ed., p. 116).
[6] I am far from wishing to assert that no
previous writer has ever thought of tracing a dream
author himself as a wish-fulfilment (p. 239).
Scherner says: "The phantasy immediately fulfills
the dreamer's wish, simply because this existed
vividly in the mind." This dream belongs to the
"emotional dreams." Akin to it are dreams due to
"masculine and feminine erotic longing," and to
"irritable moods." As will readily be seen, Scherner
does not ascribe to the wish any further significance
for the dream than to any other psychic condition of
CHAPTER 4
DISTORTION IN DREAMS
If I now declare that wish-fulfilment is the
meaning of every dream, so that there cannot be
any dreams other than wish-dreams, I know
beforehand that I shall meet with the most emphatic
contradiction. My critics will object: "The fact that
there are dreams which are to be understood as
fulfilments of wishes is not new, but has long since
been recognized by such writers as Radestock,
Volkelt, Purkinje, Griesinger and others.[1] That
one thing which may in some degree reconcile the
cultured person with life- scientific and artistic
enjoyment....' But even less pessimistic observers
have emphasized the fact that in our dreams pain
and disgust are more frequent than pleasure
(Scholz, p. 33; Volkelt, p. 80, et al.). Two ladies,
Sarah Weed and Florence Hallam, have even worked
out, on the basis of their dreams, a numerical value
for the preponderance of distress and discomfort in
the examples given in the last chapter, that dreams
are wish-fulfilments, and even to condemn it as an
absurdity.
Nevertheless, it is not difficult to parry these
apparently invincible objections. It is merely
necessary to observe that our doctrine is not based
upon the estimates of the obvious dream- content,
but relates to the thought-content, which, in the
course of interpretation, is found to lie behind the
presents difficulties, to add to it a second problem;
just as it is easier to crack two nuts together instead
of separately. Thus, we are confronted not only with
the problem: How can painful and terrifying dreams
be the fulfilments of wishes? but we may add to this
a second problem which arises from the foregoing
discussion of the general problem of the dream:
Why do not the dreams that show an indifferent
content, and yet turn out to be wish-fulfilments,
this peculiarity of dreams- namely, that they need
elucidation- the phenomenon of distortion in
dreams, a second question then arises: What is the
origin of this distortion in dreams?
If one's first thoughts on this subject were
consulted, several possible solutions might suggest
themselves: for example, that during sleep one is
incapable of finding an adequate expression for
one's dream-thoughts. The analysis of certain
Preliminary Statement
In the spring of 1897 I learnt that two
professors of our university had proposed me for the
title of Professor Extraordinarius (assistant
professor). The news came as a surprise to me, and
pleased me considerably as an expression of
appreciation on the part of two eminent men which
could not be explained by personal interest. But I
told myself immediately that I must not expect
anything to come of their proposal. For some years
past the Ministry had disregarded such proposals,
One evening a friend of mine called to see
me; one of those colleagues whose fate I had
regarded as a warning. As he had long been a
candidate for promotion to the professorate (which
in our society makes the doctor a demigod to his
patients), and as he was less resigned than I, he
was accustomed from time to time to remind the
authorities of his claims in the hope of advancing his
interests. It was after one of these visits that he
On the morning after my friend's visit I had
the following dream, which was notable also on
account of its form. It consisted of two thoughts and
two images, so that a thought and an image
emerged alternately. But here I shall record only the
first half of the dream, since the second half has no
relation to the purpose for which I cite the dream.
I. My friend R is my uncle- I have a great
affection for him.
distinctness.
Then follow the other two portions of the
in the evening, I reproached myself in these words:
"If in the course of a dream-interpretation one of
your patients could find nothing better to say than
'That is nonsense,' you would reprove him, and you
would suspect that behind the dream there was
hidden some disagreeable affair, the exposure of
which he wanted to spare himself. Apply the same
thing to your own case; your opinion that the dream
is nonsense probably signifies merely an inner
equivalent to saying: "R is a simpleton." Hardly
credible, and very disagreeable! But there is the face
that I saw in the dream, with its elongated features
and its yellow beard. My uncle actually had such a
face- long, and framed in a handsome yellow beard.
My friend R was extremely swarthy, but when black-
haired people begin to grow grey they pay for the
glory of their youth. Their black beards undergo an
unpleasant change of colour, hair by hair; first they
I have still no idea for what purpose I have
worked out this relationship. It is certainly one to
which I must unreservedly object. Yet it is not very
profound, for my uncle was a criminal, and my
friend R is not, except in so far as he was once fined
for knocking down an apprentice with his bicycle.
Can I be thinking of this offence? That would make
the comparison ridiculous. Here I recollect another
conversation, which I had some days ago with
assure you that the matter was put right. It was a
mean attempt at blackmail, and it was all I could do
to save the plaintiff from punishment. But it may be
that the affair is remembered against me at the
Ministry. You, on the other hand, are above
reproach." Here, then, I have the criminal, and at
the same time the interpretation and tendency of
my dream. My uncle Joseph represents both of my
colleagues who have not been appointed to the
us. I have a right to enjoy my appointment to the
title of professor, and have avoided the distressing
application to my own case of the information which
the official gave to my friend R.
I must pursue the interpretation of this
dream still farther; for I have a feeling that it is not
yet satisfactorily elucidated. I still feel disquieted by
the ease with which I have degraded two respected
colleagues in order to clear my own way to the
than in the first; it is here made with a skilful use of
actual points of support in establishing something
like a plausible slander, one of which one could say
that "there is something in it." For at that time my
friend R had to contend with the adverse vote of a
university professor of his own department, and my
friend N had himself, all unsuspectingly, provided
me with material for the calumny. Nevertheless, I
repeat, it still seems to me that the dream requires
further elucidation.
I remember now that the dream contained
affection, if it was for him, seems false and
exaggerated, as does my judgment of his
intellectual qualities, which I expressed by merging
his personality in that of my uncle; but exaggerated
in the opposite direction. Now, however, a new state
of affairs dawns upon me. The affection in the
dream does not belong to the latent content, to the
thoughts behind the dream; it stands in opposition
to this content; it is calculated to conceal the
same thing applies to my dream. I do not want to
interpret it because there is something in the
interpretation to which I object. After the
interpretation of the dream is completed, I discover
what it was to which I objected; it was the assertion
that R is a simpleton. I can refer the affection which
I feel for R not to the latent dream-thoughts, but
rather to this unwillingness of mine. If my dream, as
compared with its latent content, is disguised at this
demonstrated, there are, of course, dreams which
are undisguised wish-fulfilments. Wherever a wish-
fulfilment is unrecognizable and disguised there
must be present a tendency to defend oneself
against this wish, and in consequence of this
defence the wish is unable to express itself save in a
distorted form. I will try to find a parallel in social
life to this occurrence in the inner psychic life.
Where in social life can a similar misrepresentation
best that thou canst know thou mayst not tell to
boys."
The political writer who has unpleasant
truths to tell to those in power finds himself in a like
position. If he tells everything without reserve, the
Government will suppress them- retrospectively in
the case of a verbal expression of opinion,
preventively if they are to be published in the Press.
The writer stands in fear of the censorship; he
the more ingenious the means employed to put the
reader on the track of the actual meaning.
The detailed correspondence between the
phenomena of censorship and the phenomena of
dream-distortion justifies us in presupposing similar
conditions for both. We should then assume that in
every human being there exist, as the primary cause
of dream-formation, two psychic forces (tendencies
or systems), one of which forms the wish expressed
the first system which has not previously passed the
second instance; and the second instance lets
nothing pass without exercising its rights, and
forcing such modifications as are pleasing to itself
upon the candidates for admission to consciousness.
Here we arrive at a very definite conception of the
essence of consciousness; for us the state of
becoming conscious is a special psychic act, different
from and independent of the process of becoming
disparaged in the dream-interpretation. I refer to
the political life of a State in which the ruler, jealous
of his rights, and an active public opinion are in
mutual conflict. The people, protesting against the
actions of an unpopular official, demand his
dismissal. The autocrat, on the other hand, in order
to show his contempt for the popular will, may then
deliberately confer upon the official some
exceptional distinction which otherwise would not
this trail, but shall return to our original problem as
soon as we have elucidated the problem of dream-
distortion. The question arose, how dreams with a
disagreeable content can be analysed as wish-
fulfillments. We see now that this is possible where
a dream- distortion has occurred, when the
disagreeable content serves only to disguise the
thing wished for. With regard to our assumptions
respecting the two psychic instances, we can now
dream would have to remain unsolved.
That the dream actually has a secret
meaning, which proves to be a wish-fulfillment,
must be proved afresh in every case by analysis. I
will therefore select a few dreams which have painful
contents, and endeavour to analyse them. Some of
them are dreams of hysterical subjects, which
therefore call for a long preliminary statement, and
in some passages an examination of the psychic
fulfillments of wishes. Here are several examples of
the sort of dream-material which is adduced in
refutation of my theory.
"You are always saying that a dream is a
wish fulfilled," begins an intelligent lady patient.
"Now I shall tell you a dream in which the content is
quite the opposite, in which a wish of mine is not
fulfilled. How do you reconcile that with your theory?
The dream was as follows: I want to give a supper,
among the experiences of the preceding day."
Analysis
capable meat salesman, had told her the day before
that he was growing too fat, and that he meant to
undergo treatment for obesity. He would rise early,
take physical exercise, keep to a strict diet, and
above all accept no more invitations to supper. She
proceeds jestingly to relate how her husband, at a
and teases him a good deal. She has asked him not
to give her any caviar. What can that mean?
Goethe: And if he has no backside, How can
the nobleman sit?
As a matter of fact, she had wanted for a
long time to eat a caviar sandwich every morning,
but had grudged the expense. Of course she could
get the caviar from her husband at once if she asked
for it. But she has, on the contrary, begged him not
to give her any caviar, so that she might tease him
about it a little longer.
fulfillment of her wish. But why does she need an
unfulfilled wish?)
The ideas elicited so far are insufficient for
the interpretation of the dream. I press for more.
After a short pause, which corresponds to the
overcoming of a resistance, she reports that the day
before she had paid a visit to a friend of whom she
is really jealous because her husband is always
praising this lady so highly. Fortunately this friend is
supper, thereby fulfilling your wish not to contribute
anything to the rounding out of your friend's figure.
Your husband's resolution to accept no more
invitations to supper in order that he may grow thin
teaches you that one grows fat on food eaten at
other people's tables." Nothing is lacking now but
some sort of coincidence which will confirm the
solution. The smoked salmon in the dream has not
yet been traced.- "How did you come to think of
have heard that at the time of her dream of a denied
wish the patient was impelled to deny herself a real
wish (the wish to cat caviar sandwiches). Her friend,
too, had expressed a wish, namely, to get fatter,
and it would not surprise us if our patient had
dreamt that this wish of her friend's- the wish to
increase in weight- was not to be fulfilled. Instead of
this, however, she dreamt that one of her own
wishes was not fulfilled. The dream becomes capable
their symptoms not merely their own experiences,
but the experiences of quite a number of other
persons; they can suffer, as it were, for a whole
mass of people, and fill all the parts of a drama with
their own personalities. It will here be objected that
this is the well-known hysterical imitation, the ability
of hysterical subjects to imitate all the symptoms
which impress them when they occur in others, as
though pity were aroused to the point of
tells himself: The others have seen her, and have
imitated her; this is psychic infection. Yes, but
psychic infection occurs somewhat in the following
manner: As a rule, patients know more about one
another than the physician knows about any one of
them, and they are concerned about one another
when the doctor's visit is over. One of them has an
attack to-day: at once it is known to the rest that a
letter from home, a recrudescence of lovesickness,
claim; it expresses a just like, and refers to some
common condition which has remained in the
unconscious.
In hysteria, identification is most frequently
employed to express a sexual community. The
hysterical woman identifies herself by her symptoms
most readily- though not exclusively- with persons
with whom she has had sexual relations, or who
have had sexual intercourse with the same persons
elucidate the process by saying: In the dream she
puts herself in the place of her friend, because her
friend has taken her own place in relation to her
husband, and because she would like to take her
friend's place in her husband's esteem.[7] -
The contradiction of my theory of dreams on
the part of another female patient, the most
intelligent of all my dreamers, was solved in a
simpler fashion, though still in accordance with the
And now the dream reversed this desired solution.
Was not this a flat contradiction of my theory of
wish-fulfilment? One had only to draw the inferences
from this dream in order to arrive at its
interpretation. According to this dream, I was
wrong; but it was her wish that I should be wrong,
and this wish the dream showed her as fulfilled. But
the wish that I should be wrong, which was fulfilled
in the theme of the country house, referred in reality
Without an analysis, and merely by means
of an assumption, I took the liberty of interpreting a
little incident in the life of a friend, who had been
my companion through eight classes at school. He
once heard a lecture of mine, delivered to a small
audience, on the novel idea that dreams are wish-
fulfilments. He went home, dreamt that he had lost
all his lawsuits- he was a lawyer- and then
complained to me about it. I took refuge in the
Charles. She lost the elder one, Otto, while I was
still living with her. Otto was my favourite; it was I
who really brought him up. I like the other little
fellow, too, but, of course, not nearly as much as his
dead brother. Now I dreamt last night that I saw
Charles lying dead before me. He was lying in his
little coffin, his hands folded; there were candles all
about; and, in short, it was just as it was at the time
of little Otto's death, which gave me such a shock.
Now tell me, what does this mean? You know me-
am I really so bad as to wish that my sister should
lose the only child she has left? Or does the dream
Having become an orphan at an early age,
the girl had been brought up in the home of a much
older sister, and had met, among the friends and
visitors who frequented the house, a man who made
a lasting impression upon her affections. It looked
for a time as though these barely explicit relations
would end in marriage, but this happy culmination
was frustrated by the sister, whose motives were
never completely explained. After the rupture the
other opportunity of seeing him unobserved. I
remembered that on the previous day she had told
me that the Professor was going to a certain
concert, and that she too was going, in order to
enjoy the sight of him. This was on the day before
the dream; and the concert was to be given on the
day on which she told me the dream. I could now
easily see the correct interpretation, and I asked her
whether she could think of any particular event
fighting inwardly. I know that you have the ticket for
today's concert in your bag. Your dream is a dream
of impatience; it has anticipated by several hours
the meeting which is to take place to-day."
In order to disguise her wish she had
obviously selected a situation in which wishes of the
sort are commonly suppressed- a situation so
sorrowful that love is not even thought of. And yet it
is entirely possible that even in the actual situation
long.
A different explanation was found in the case
in a box. She was strongly inclined to use this
dream-image as an objection to the theory of wish-
fulfilment, although she herself suspected that the
detail of the box must lead to a different conception
of the dream.[8] For in the course of the analysis it
occurred to her that on the previous evening the
conversation of the people in whose company she
found herself had turned on the English word box,
and upon the numerous translations of it into
was now possible to add the fact that the lady had
guessed at the relationship between the English
she no longer denied that the picture in the dream
actually corresponded with a wish of hers. Like so
many other young women, she was by no means
happy on finding that she was pregnant, and she
had confessed to me more than once the wish that
her child might die before its birth; in a fit of anger,
following a violent scene with her husband, she had
even struck her abdomen with her fists, in order to
injure the child within. The dead child was therefore,
dream, which again was told me in order to deter
me from a hasty generalization of my theory, I am
indebted, not to a patient, but to an intelligent jurist
of my acquaintance. "I dream," my informant tells
me, "that I am walking in front of my house with a
lady on my arm. Here a closed carriage is waiting; a
man steps up to me, shows me his authorization as
a police officer, and requests me to follow him. I ask
only for time in which to arrange my affairs." The
night, not at home, but in the house of a lady who
means a great deal to me. When we awoke in the
morning, something again passed between us. Then
I went to sleep again, and dreamt what I have told
you."- "The woman is married?"- "Yes."- "And you
do not wish her to conceive?"- "No; that might
betray us."- "Then you do not practice normal
coitus?"- "I take the precaution to withdraw before
ejaculation."- "Am I to assume that you took this
ovum and the semen meet and a foetus is formed is
punished as a crime? In this connection we recalled
the medieval controversy about the moment of time
at which the soul actually enters into the foetus,
since the concept of murder becomes admissible
only from that point onwards. Of course, too, you
know the gruesome poem by Lenau, which puts
infanticide and birth-control on the same plane."-
"Strangely enough, I happened, as though by
fear. It would be consistent with this if, after
repeated coitus of this kind, you were left in an
uncomfortable frame of mind, which now becomes
an element of the composition of your dream. You
even make use of this uncomfortable state of mind
to conceal the wish-fulfilment. At the same time, the
mention of infanticide has not yet been explained.
Why does this crime, which is peculiar to females,
occur to you?"- "I will confess to you that I was
fitted him, for he hastened to imitate it by a dream
of his own, applying its mode of thinking to another
theme. On the previous day he had furnished a
statement of his income; a quite straightforward
statement, because he had little to state. He dreamt
that an acquaintance of his came from a meeting of
the tax commission and informed him that all the
other statements had passed unquestioned, but that
his own had aroused general suspicion, with the
If I group together the very frequent dreams
of this sort, which seem flatly to contradict my
theory, in that they embody the denial of a wish or
some occurrence obviously undesired, under the
head of counter-wish-dreams, I find that they may
all be referred to two principles, one of which has
not yet been mentioned, though it plays a large part
in waking as well as dream-life. One of the motives
inspiring these dreams is the wish that I should
treatment, against the will of her relatives and the
authorities whom they had consulted, dreamt the
following dream: At home she is forbidden to come
to me any more. She then reminds me of the
promise I made her to treat her for nothing if
necessary, and I tell her: "I can show no
consideration in money matters."
It is not at all easy in this case to
demonstrate the fulfilment of a wish, but in all cases
A dream which at first sight presents
peculiar difficulties for the theory of wish-fulfilment
was dreamed by a physician (Aug. Starcke) and
interpreted by him: "I have and see on the last
phalange of my left forefinger a primary syphilitic
affection."
One may perhaps be inclined to refrain from
analysing this dream, since it seems clear and
coherent, except for its unwished-for content.
intense emotion."[11]
The other motive for counter-wish-dreams is
so clear that there is a danger of overlooking it, as
into its opposite. Such people are called ideal
masochists if they seek pleasure not in the bodily
pain which may be inflicted upon them, but in
humiliation and psychic chastisement. It is obvious
that such persons may have counter-wish-dreams
and disagreeable dreams, yet these are for them
nothing more than wish-fulfilments, which satisfy
their masochistic inclinations. Here is such a dream:
A young man, who in earlier youth greatly
against my interests. It would be my punishment for
all the torments he has suffered at my hands.
I hope that the examples given above will
suffice- until some further objection appears- to
make it seem credible that even dreams with a
painful content are to be analysed as wish-
fulfilments.[12] Nor should it be considered a mere
matter of chance that, in the course of
interpretation, one always happens upon subjects
connecting the unpleasant character of all these
dreams with the fact of dream-distortion, and in
concluding that these dreams are distorted, and that
their wish-fulfilment is disguised beyond recognition,
precisely because there is a strong revulsion
against- a will to repress- the subject-matter of the
dream, or the wish created by it. Dream-distortion,
then, proves in reality to be an act of censorship.
We shall have included everything which the
wish.[13]
I will here anticipate by citing the
Nowhere have I said that I have accepted
this formula of Rank's. The shorter version contained
in the text seems to me sufficient. But the fact that I
merely mentioned Rank's modification was enough
to expose psycho-analysis to the oft-repeated
reproach that it asserts that all dreams have a
sexual content. If one understands this sentence as
it is intended to be understood, it only proves how
little conscientiousness our critics are wont to
The matter has, however, a different aspect
if we employ the word sexual in the sense of Eros,
as the word is understood by psycho- analysts. But
the interesting problem of whether all dreams are
not produced by libidinal motives (in opposition to
destructive ones) has hardly been considered by our
opponents.
Now there still remain to be considered, as a
particular sub- order of dreams with painful content,
the phobia is attached. For example, it is true that it
is possible to fall out of a window, and that a certain
care should be exercised when one is at a window,
but it is not obvious why the anxiety in the
corresponding phobia is so great, and why it
torments its victims more than its cause would
warrant. The same explanation which applies to the
phobia applies also to the anxiety-dream. In either
case, the anxiety is only fastened on to the idea
anxiety-dreams are dreams of sexual content, and
that the libido appertaining to this content has been
transformed into anxiety. Later on I shall have an
opportunity of confirming this assertion by the
analysis of several dreams of neurotics. In my
further attempts to arrive at a theory of dreams I
shall again have occasion to revert to the conditions
of anxiety-dreams and their compatibility with the
theory of wish-fulfilment.
Footnotes
dreams as a passage in J. Sully's essay, Dreams as
a Revelation (and it is not because I do not think it
valuable that I allude to it here for the first time):
"It would seem then, after all, that dreams are not
the utter nonsense they have been said to be by
such authorities as Chaucer, Shakespeare, and
Milton. The chaotic aggregations of our night-fancy
have a significance and communicate new
knowledge. Like some letter in cipher, the dream-
interpretation of the dream, I said to myself: "I have
only one uncle, the one who is intended in the
dream."
[4] Such hypocritical dreams are not rare,
either with me or with others. While I have been
working at a certain scientific problem, I have been
visited for several nights, at quite short intervals, by
a somewhat confusing dream which has as its
content a reconciliation with a friend dropped long
dreams will be recorded in another place (see Chap
vi, "The Dream-Work").
[5] Later on we shall become acquainted
with cases in which, on the contrary, the dream
expresses a wish of this second instance. -
[6] To sit for the painter.
[7] I myself regret the inclusion of such
passages from the psycho- pathology of hysteria,
which, because of their fragmentary presentation,
invariably furnish the key to the interpretation. Cf.
Chapter VII, on forgetting of dreams.
[10] Similar counter-wish-dreams have been
repeatedly reported to me within the last few years,
by those who attend my lectures, as their reaction
to their first encounter with the wish-theory of
dreams.
[11] Zentralblatt fur Psychoanalyse, Jahrg.
II, 1911-12.
later.
[14] See [previous reference] above.
CHAPTER 5 (Part 1)
THE MATERIAL AND SOURCES OF DREAMS
Having realized, as a result of analysing the
dream of Irma's injection, that the dream was the
fulfilment of a wish, we were immediately interested
to ascertain whether we had thereby discovered a
general characteristic of dreams, and for the time
being we put aside every other scientific problem
which may have suggested itself in the course of the
interpretation. Now that we have reached the goal
content to work upon may not now be satisfactorily
solved.
The opinions of previous writers on the
relation of dreams to waking life, and the origin of
the material of dreams, have not been given here.
We may recall however three peculiarities of the
memory in dreams, which have been often noted,
but never explained:
1. That the dream clearly prefers the
These peculiarities in the dream's choice of
material have, of course, been observed by previous
writers in the manifest dream- content.
A. Recent and Indifferent Impressions
in the Dream
If I now consult my own experience with
regard to the origin of the elements appearing in the
dream-content, I must in the first place express the
opinion that in every dream we may find some
constantly this reference may be demonstrated, I
shall examine a portion of my own dream- chronicle,
I shall relate only so much of the dreams as is
necessary for the detection of the dream-source in
question.
1. I pay a call at a house to which I gain
admittance only with difficulty, etc., and meanwhile
I am keeping a woman waiting for me.
Source: A conversation during the evening
difficulties her mother puts in the way of her
continuing the treatment.
4. At S and R's bookshop I subscribe to a
periodical which costs 20 florins annually.
Source: During the day my wife has
reminded me that I still owe her 20 florins of her
weekly allowance.
5. I receive a communication from the Social
Democratic Committee, in which I am addressed as
a member.
Source: I have received simultaneous
member.
6. A man on a steep rock rising from the
sea, in the manner of Bocklin.
preceding day only, or whether the reference may
be extended to include impressions from a longer
period of time in the immediate past. This question
is probably not of the first importance, but I am
inclined to decide in favour of the exclusive priority
of the day before the dream (the dream-day).
Whenever I thought I had found a case where an
impression two or three days old was the source of
the dream, I was able to convince myself after
I believe, therefore, that for every dream a
dream-stimulus may be found among these
experiences "on which one has not yet slept."
Havelock Ellis, who has likewise given
attention to this problem, states that he has not
been able to find any such periodicity of
reproduction in his dreams, although he has looked
for it. He relates a dream in which he found himself
in Spain; he wanted to travel to a place called
life, provided only that a chain of thought leads back
from the experiences of the day of the dream (the
recent impressions) of that earlier period.
But why this preference for recent
impressions? We shall arrive at some conjectures on
this point if we subject one of the dreams already
mentioned to a more precise analysis. I select the
Dream of the Botanical Monograph
I have written a monograph on a certain
every copy.
Analysis
am reminded of a story which I recently told some
friends of mine in proof of my assertion that we
often forget in obedience to a purpose of the
unconscious, and that forgetfulness always enables
us to form a deduction about the secret disposition
of the forgetful person. A young woman who has
been accustomed to receive a bouquet of flowers
from her husband on her birthday misses this token
of affection on one of her birthdays, and bursts into
Supplementary facts: I did once actually
write something like a monograph on a plant,
namely, an essay on the coca plant, which attracted
the attention of K. Koller to the anaesthetic
properties of cocaine. I had hinted that the alkaloid
might be employed as an anaesthetic, but I was not
thorough enough to pursue the matter farther. It
occurs to me, too, that on the morning of the day
following the dream (for the interpretation of which I
professional services of a colleague. I should be able
to pay the Berlin eye specialist, who did not know
me, like anyone else. Only after recalling this day-
dream do I realize that there is concealed behind it
the memory of a definite event. Shortly after Koller's
discovery, my father contracted glaucoma; he was
operated on by my friend Dr. Koenigstein, the eye
specialist. Dr. Koller was in charge of the cocaine
anaesthetization, and he made the remark that on
brought together.
Koller. Now I suddenly become aware that the
dream is connected with an experience of the
previous evening. I had just accompanied Dr.
Koenigstein to his home, and had entered into a
discussion of a subject which excites me greatly
whenever it is mentioned. While I was talking with
him in the entrance-hall Professor Gartner and his
young wife came up. I could not refrain from
congratulating them both upon their blooming
Gymnasium once called the pupils of the upper
classes together, in order that they might examine
and clean the Gymnasium herbarium. Small insects
had been found- book-worms. The director seemed
to have little confidence in my ability to assist, for
he entrusted me with only a few of the pages. I
know to this day that there were crucifers on them.
My interest in botany was never very great. At my
preliminary examination in botany I was required to
How I envied him this power of vision! If only I could
see it lying before me, already completed!
The folded coloured plate. When I was a
medical student I suffered a sort of craze for
studying monographs exclusively. In spite of my
limited means, I subscribed to a number of the
medical periodicals, whose coloured plates afforded
me much delight. I was rather proud of this
inclination to thoroughness. When I subsequently
picture of us two children blissfully tearing the book
to pieces (I should add, like an artichoke, leaf by
leaf), is almost the only one from this period of my
life which has remained vivid in my memory. When I
afterwards became a student, I developed a
conspicuous fondness for collecting and possessing
books (an analogy to the inclination for studying
from monographs, a hobby alluded to in my dream-
thoughts, in connection with cyclamen and
respectable one. But the mention of this experience
of my youth brings me back to my conversation with
my friend Dr. Koenigstein on the evening preceding
the dream; for one of the themes of this
conversation was the same old reproach- that I am
much too absorbed in my hobbies.
For reasons which are not relevant here I
shall not continue the interpretation of this dream,
but will merely indicate the path which leads to it. In
ramified conversation. The dream once more
assumes the character of a justification, of a plea for
my rights (like the dream of Irma's injection, the
first to be analysed); it even continues the theme
which that dream introduced, and discusses it in
association with the new subject-matter which has
been added in the interval between the two dreams.
Even the dream's apparently indifferent form of
expression at once acquires a meaning. Now it
after I have completed the interpretation, a second
source of the dream becomes apparent in another
experience of the same day. The first of these
impressions to which the dream refers is an
indifferent one, a subordinate circumstance. I see a
book in a shop window whose title holds me for a
moment, but whose contents would hardly interest
me. The second experience was of great psychic
value; I talked earnestly with my friend, the eye
thus able to reaffirm that the dream prefers to take
up into its content experiences of a non- essential
character. In the dream-interpretation, on the
contrary, everything converges upon the important
and justifiably disturbing event. If I judge the sense
of the dream in the only correct way, according to
the latent content which is brought to light in the
analysis, I find that I have unwittingly lighted upon a
new and important discovery. I see that the puzzling
Perhaps the most immediate explanation of
the fact that I dream of the indifferent impression of
the day, while the impression which has with good
reason excited me causes me to dream, is that here
again we are dealing with the phenomenon of
dream- distortion, which we have referred to as a
psychic force playing the part of a censorship. The
recollection of the monograph on the genus
cyclamen is utilized as though it were an allusion to
dreamer. In our new example we are dealing with
two entirely separate impressions, which at first
glance seem to have nothing in common, except
indeed that they occur on the same day. The
monograph attracts my attention in the morning: in
the evening I take part in the conversation. The
answer furnished by the analysis is as follows: Such
relations between the two impressions as do not
exist from the first are established subsequently
To tell us this,
as we read in Hamlet. But behold! in the
analysis I am reminded that the name of the man
who interrupted our conversation was Gartner
(gardener), and that I thought his wife looked
blooming; indeed, now I even remember that one of
my female patients, who bears the pretty name of
Flora, was for a time the main subject of our
conversation. It must have happened that by means
of these intermediate links from the sphere of
I am prepared to find this explanation
attacked as either arbitrary or artificial. What would
have happened if Professor Gartner and his
blooming wife had not appeared, and if the patient
who was under discussion had been called, not
Flora, but Anna? And yet the answer is not hard to
find. If these thought- relations had not been
available, others would probably have been selected.
It is easy to establish relations of this sort, as the
impression of the monograph and no other that was
fated to perform this function, this impression was
probably that most suitable for the purpose. One
need not, like Lessing's Hanschen Schlau, be
astonished that "only the rich people of the world
possess the most money."
Still the psychological process by which,
according to our exposition, the indifferent
experience substitutes itself for the psychologically
degree of intensity which enables them to force their
way into consciousness. Such displacements do not
in the least surprise us when it is a question of the
transference of affective magnitudes or of motor
activities. That the lonely spinster transfers her
affection to animals, that the bachelor becomes a
passionate collector, that the soldier defends a scrap
of coloured cloth- his flag- with his life-blood, that in
a love-affair a clasp of the hands a moment longer
that the psychic process which we have recognized
in dream-displacement proves to be not a morbidly
deranged process, but one merely differing from the
normal, one of a more primary nature.
Thus we interpret the fact that the dream-
content takes up remnants of trivial experiences as
a manifestation of dream- distortion (by
displacement), and we thereupon remember that we
have recognized this dream-distortion as the work of
for its apparent meaning. A further objection to
Robert's doctrine is as follows: If the task of the
dream were really to rid our memory, by means of a
special psychic activity, of the slag of the day's
recollections, our sleep would perforce be more
troubled, engaged in more strenuous work, than we
can suppose it to be, judging by our waking
thoughts. For the number of the indifferent
impressions of the day against which we should
between this impression and the real source of the
dream in the unconscious do not always exist from
the outset; as we have seen, they are established
subsequently, while the dream is actually at work,
as though to serve the purpose of the intended
displacement. Something, therefore, must
necessitate the opening up of connections in the
direction of the recent but indifferent impression;
this impression must possess some quality that
to one another. One of them was an influential
colleague, the other a member of a distinguished
family which I had been attending in my professional
capacity. I introduced the two gentlemen to each
other; but during the long journey they conversed
with each other through me, so that I had to discuss
this or that topic now with one, now with the other.
I asked my colleague to recommend a mutual
acquaintance who had just begun to practise as a
with all the bearing of a man of the world was
making- before a distinguished company, in which I
recognized all the rich and aristocratic persons of my
acquaintance- a funeral oration over the old lady
(who in my dream had already died) who was the
aunt of my second fellow- traveller. (I confess
frankly that I had not been on good terms with this
lady.) Thus my dream had once more found the
connection between the two impressions of the day,
I shall now consider the question whether
the dream-exciting source to which our analysis
leads us must always be a recent (and significant)
event, or whether a subjective experience- that is to
say, the recollection of a psychologically significant
event, a train of thought- may assume the role of a
dream- stimulus. The very definite answer, derived
from numerous analyses, is as follows: The stimulus
of the dream may be a subjective transaction, which
operative.
The source of a dream may be:
(a) A recent and psychologically significant
whole.[5]
(c) One or more recent and significant
events, which are represented in the dream-content
by allusion to a contemporary but indifferent
event.[6]
(d) A subjectively significant experience
(recollection, train of thought), which is constantly
represented in the dream by allusion to a recent but
indifferent impression.[7]
conditions results merely from the alternative, that a
displacement has or has not occurred, and it may
here be noted that this alternative enables us to
explain the contrasts of the dream quite as readily
as the medical theory of the dream explains the
series of states from the partial to the complete
waking of the brain cells.
In considering this series of sources we note
further that the psychologically significant but not
day (or at most several days) older, we are obliged
to assume that the very freshness of an impression
gives it a certain psychological value for dream-
formation, somewhat equivalent to the value of
emotionally accentuated memories or trains of
thought. Later on, in the light of certain
Psychological considerations, we shall be able to
divine the explanation of this importance of recent
impressions in dream formation.[8]
have just arrived. If indifferent impressions can find
their way into the dream only so long as they are of
recent origin, how does it happen that in the dream-
content we find elements also from earlier periods of
our lives, which, at the time when they were still
recent, possessed, as Strumpell puts it, no psychic
value, and which, therefore, ought to have been
forgotten long ago; elements, that is, which are
neither fresh nor psychologically significant?
remained indifferent can never be reproduced in the
dream.
From the foregoing exposition the reader
may rightly conclude that I assert that there are no
indifferent dream-stimuli, and therefore no guileless
dreams. This I absolutely and unconditionally believe
to be the case, apart from the dreams of children,
and perhaps the brief dream-reactions to nocturnal
sensations. Apart from these exceptions, whatever
opportunity to show dream-distortion at work, I
shall here subject to analysis a number of guileless
dreams from my collection.
I.
An intelligent and refined young woman,
who in real life is distinctly reserved, one of those
people of whom one says that "still waters run
deep," relates the following dream: "I dreamt that I
arrived at the market too late, and could get nothing
The butcher tells her, after she has asked him for
something: "That is no longer to be obtained," and
waits to give her something else, with the remark:
I won't take it."
The connection of the dream with the
preceding day is simple enough. She had really gone
to the market too late, and had been unable to buy
anything. The meatshop was already closed, comes
into one's mind as a description of the experience.
But wait, is not that a very vulgar phrase which- or
rather, the opposite of which- denotes a certain
neglect with regard to man's clothing? The dreamer
starting- point. Where, then, does the butcher's
statement, That is no longer to be obtained, come
from? From myself; I had explained to her some
days previously "that the oldest experiences of
childhood are no longer to be obtained as such, but
will be replaced in the analysis by transferences and
dreams." Thus, I am the butcher, and she refuses to
accept these transferences to the present of old
ways of thinking and feeling. Where does her dream
meat-shop." That we have really hit upon the trail of
the interpretation is proved by its agreement with
the allusions made by the incident with the
greengrocer woman. A vegetable which is sold tied
up in bundles (a longish vegetable, as she
subsequently adds), and is also black: what can this
be but a dream-combination of asparagus and black
radish? I need not interpret asparagus to the
initiated; and the other vegetable, too (think of the
hammers would have to be rebuffed as well." Again
we have the reproduction of an actual event of the
preceding day. Her husband had asked her such a
question, and she had answered it in such words.
But what is the meaning of her dreaming it? She
says of the piano that it is a disgusting old box
which has a bad tone; it belonged to her husband
before they were married,[12] etc., but the key to
the true solution lies in the phrase: It isn't worth
periods, if we take into consideration the disgusting
and the bad tone, and remember how often in
allusions and in dreams the two small hemispheres
of the female body take the place- as a substitute
and an antithesis- of the large ones.
III.
I will interrupt the analysis of this dreamer
in order to insert a short, innocent dream which was
dreamed by a young man. He dreamt that he was
this suggestion: A thin condom is dangerous, a thick
one is bad. The condom is a "pullover" (Ueberzieher
= literally pullover), for it is pulled over something:
and Uebersieher is the German term for a light
overcoat. An experience like that related by the lady
would indeed be terrible for an unmarried man.
We will now return to our other innocent
dreamer.
IV.
brought up, and a stranger to all obscenity, know of
such an application of the candle? By chance she is
able to tell how she came by this information. While
paddling a canoe on the Rhine, a boat passed her
which contained some students, who were singing
rapturously, or rather yelling: "When the Queen of
Sweden, behind closed shutters, with the candles of
Apollo..."
She does not hear or else understand the
V.
Lest it may seem too easy a matter to draw
conclusions from dreams concerning the dreamer's
real circumstances, I add another dream originating
with the same person, which once more appears
innocent. "I dreamt of doing something," she
relates, "which I actually did during the day, that is
to say, I filled a little trunk so full of books that I
had difficulty in closing it. My dream was just like
the actual occurrence." Here the dreamer herself
emphasizes the correspondence between the dream
it.
In all these "innocent" dreams the sexual
factor as the motive of the censorship is very
prominent. But this is a subject of primary
significance, which we must consider later.
B. Infantile Experiences as the Source
of Dreams
As the third of the peculiarities of the
dream-content, we have adduced the fact, in
who decides to visit his birthplace after an absence
of twenty years. On the night before his departure
he dreams that he is in a totally unfamiliar locality,
and that he there meets a strange man with whom
he holds a conversation. Subsequently, upon his
return home, he is able to convince himself that this
strange locality really exists in the vicinity of his
home, and the strange man in the dream turns out
to be a friend of his dead father's, who is living in
very rarely subject to distortion, told me that he had
sometime previously seen, in a dream, his former
tutor in bed with his nurse, who had remained in the
household until his eleventh year. The actual
location of this scene was realized even in the
dream. As he was greatly interested, he related the
dream to his elder brother, who laughingly
confirmed its reality. The brother said that he
remembered the affair very distinctly, for he was six
again and again in adult years. I may add a few
examples of this sort to those already known,
although I have no personal knowledge of perennial
dreams. A physician, in his thirties, tells me that a
yellow lion, concerning which he is able to give the
precisest information, has often appeared in his
dream-life, from his earliest childhood up to the
present day. This lion, known to him from his
dreams, was one day discovered in natura, as a
to my esteemed colleague of the "yellow
lion." After reading Nansen's account of his polar
expedition, he dreamt that he was giving the
intrepid explorer electrical treatment on an ice-floe
for the sciatica of which the latter complained!
During the analysis of this dream he remembered an
incident of his childhood, without which the dream
would be wholly unintelligible. When he was three or
four years of age he was one day listening
embellished with coloured plates. It will perhaps be
doubted whether this recollection really entered into
the composition of the dream content, and it may be
suggested that the connection was established
subsequently by the analysis. But the abundance
and intricacy of the associative connections vouch
for the truth of my explanation: cyclamen- favourite
flower- favourite dish- artichoke; to pick to pieces
like an artichoke, leaf by leaf (a phrase which at that
impulses survives in the dream.
I shall now continue the interpretation of a
dream which has already proved instructive: I refer
to the dream in which my friend R is my uncle. We
have carried its interpretation far enough for the
wish-motive- the wish to be appointed professor- to
assert itself palpably; and we have explained the
affection felt for my friend R in the dream as the
outcome of opposition to, and defiance of, the two
intense, it would be proof of a morbid ambition,
which I do not think I cherish, and which I believe I
was far from entertaining. I do not know how others
who think they know me would judge me; perhaps I
really was ambitious; but if I was, my ambition has
long since been transferred to objects other than the
rank and title of Professor extraordinarius.
Whence, then, the ambition which the
dream has ascribed to me? Here I am reminded of a
source? But here I recollect an impression from the
later years of my childhood, which might serve even
better as an explanation. One evening, at a
restaurant on the Prater, where my parents were
accustomed to take me when I was eleven or twelve
years of age, we noticed a man who was going from
table to table and, for a small sum, improvising
verses upon any subject that was given him. I was
sent to bring the poet to our table, and he showed
impression of that time must be responsible for the
fact that until shortly before I went to the university
I wanted to study jurisprudence, and changed my
mind only at the last moment. A medical man has
no chance of becoming a minister. And now for my
dream: It is only now that I begin to see that it
translates me from the sombre present to the
hopeful days of the bourgeois Ministry, and
completely fulfils what was then my youthful
which are based on the longing to go to Rome. For a
long time to come I shall probably have to satisfy
this longing by means of dreams, since, at the
season of the year when I should be able to travel,
Rome is to be avoided for reasons of health.[13]
Thus I once dreamt that I saw the Tiber and the
bridge of Sant' Angelo from the window of a railway
carriage; presently the train started, and I realized
that I had never entered the city at all. The view
the scenery is anything but urban: it consists of a
little stream of black water, on one side of which are
black rocks, while on the other are meadows with
large white flowers. I notice a certain Herr Zucker
(with whom I am superficially acquainted), and
resolve to ask him to show me the way into the city.
It is obvious that I am trying in vain to see in my
dream a city which I have never seen in my waking
life. If I resolve the landscape into its elements, the
dream is woven I am able to recognize two of those
amusing Jewish anecdotes which conceal such
profound and, at times, such bitter worldly wisdom,
and which we are so fond of quoting in our letters
and conversation. One is the story of the
constitution; it tells how a poor Jew sneaks into the
Karlsbad express without a ticket; how he is
detected, and is treated more and more harshly by
the conductor at each succeeding call for tickets;
we know, "all roads lead to Rome." And further, the
name Zucker (sugar) again points to Karlsbad,
whither we send persons afflicted with the
constitutional disease, diabetes (Zuckerkrankheit,
sugardisease.) The occasion for this dream was the
proposal of my Berlin friend that we should meet in
Prague at Easter. A further association with sugar
and diabetes might be found in the matters which I
had to discuss with him. -
tolerance in Prague. As a matter of fact, I must have
understood the Czech language in the first years of
my childhood, for I was born in a small village in
Moravia, amidst a Slay population. A Czech nursery
rhyme, which I heard in my seventeenth year,
became, without effort on my part, so imprinted
upon my memory that I can repeat it to this day,
although I have no idea of its meaning. Thus in
these dreams also there is no lack of manifold
impatiently after he had conceived the plan of going
to Rome- Assistant Headmaster Winckelmann or the
great General Hannibal." I myself had walked in
Hannibal's footsteps; like him I was destined never
to see Rome, and he too had gone to Campania
when all were expecting him in Rome. Hannibal,
with whom I had achieved this point of similarity,
had been my favourite hero during my years at the
Gymnasium; like so many boys of my age, I
the thoughts and impressions of those earlier days.
Thus the desire to go to Rome has in my dream- life
become the mask and symbol for a number of
warmly cherished wishes, for whose realization one
had to work with the tenacity and single-mindedness
of the Punic general, though their fulfilment at times
seemed as remote as Hannibal's life-long wish to
enter Rome. -
And now, for the first time, I happened upon
cap into the mud, and shouts, 'Jew, get off the
pavement!'"- "And what did you do?"- "I went into
the street and picked up the cap," he calmly replied.
That did not seem heroic on the part of the big,
strong man who was leading me, a little fellow, by
the hand. I contrasted this situation, which did not
please me, with another, more in harmony with my
sentiments- the scene in which Hannibal's father,
Hamilcar Barcas, made his son swear before the
place in my phantasies. -
Imperial marshals, and that at that time Massena
(as a Jew, Menasse) was already my avowed
favourite.[16] This preference is doubtless also to be
explained by the fact of my having been born, a
hundred years later, on the same date. Napoleon
himself is associated with Hannibal through the
crossing of the Alps. And perhaps the development
of this martial ideal may be traced yet farther back,
to the first three years of my childhood, to wishes
have been recorded, and I can add a few new ones,
which once more refer to scenes of childhood. In the
case of one of my patients a dream once gave a
barely distorted reproduction of a sexual incident,
which was immediately recognized as an accurate
recollection. The memory of it had never been
completely lost in the waking life, but it had been
greatly obscured, and it was revivified by the
previous work of analysis. The dreamer had at the
replaced by a contemporary.
As a rule, of course, a scene from childhood
is represented in the manifest dream-content only
by an allusion, and must be disentangled from the
dream by interpretation. The citation of examples of
this kind cannot be very convincing, because any
guarantee that they are really experiences of
childhood is lacking; if they belong to an earlier
period of life, they are no longer recognized by our
I.
With one of my female patients all dreams
have the character of hurry; she is hurrying so as to
be in time, so as not to miss her train, and so on. In
one dream she has to visit a girl friend; her mother
had told her to ride and not walk; she runs,
however, and keeps on calling. The material that
emerged in the analysis allowed one to recognize a
memory of childish romping, and, especially for one
II.
The following dream was dreamed by
another female patient: She is in a large room in
But she resists, and is unwilling to lie down on the
bed- or whatever it is- which is intended for her.
She stands in a corner, and waits for me to say "It is
not true." The others, meanwhile, laugh at her,
saying it is all foolishness on her part. At the same
time, it is as though she were called upon to make a
number of little squares.
The first part of the content of this dream is
an allusion to the treatment and to the transference
My patient was the youngest of six brothers and
sisters (hence, with five others), and as such her
father's favourite, but in spite of this she seems to
have felt that her beloved father devoted far too
little time and attention to her. Her waiting for me to
say It is not trite was derived as follows: A little
tailor's apprentice had brought her a dress, and she
had given him the money for it. Then she asked her
husband whether she would have to pay the money
and she asked again and again, and waited for him
the word dirty, the standingin-the-corner and not
lying-down-on-the-bed are in keeping with this
word, as component parts of a scene of her
childhood in which she had soiled her bed, in
punishment for which she was put into the corner,
with a warning that papa would not love her any
more, whereupon her brothers and sisters laughed
at her, etc. The little squares refer to her young
niece, who showed her the arithmetical trick of
III.
Here is a man's dream: He sees two boys
standing against a wooden fence. She is the wife of
a day-labourer, and she turns her back to the man
who is dreaming. Finally she turns about and stares
at him with a horrible look, so that he runs away in
terror; the red flesh of the lower lid seems to stand
out from her eyes.
This dream has made abundant use of trivial
occurrences from the previous day, in the course of
which he actually saw two boys in the street, one of
only by a
subsequent dream, in the analysis of which
boys he went for a walk along the bank of the
Danube and, taking advantage of being alone,
urinated against a wooden fence. A little farther on a
respectably dressed, elderly lady smiled at him very
pleasantly and wanted to hand him her card with her
address.
Since, in the dream, the woman stood as he
had stood while urinating, there is an allusion to a
woman urinating, and this explains the horrible look
IV.
A great mass of childish memories, which
have been hastily combined into a phantasy, may be
found behind the following dream of an elderly lady:
She goes out in a hurry to do some shopping. On
the Graben she sinks to her knees as though she
had broken down. A number of people collect around
her, especially cabdrivers, but no one helps her to
get up. She makes many vain attempts; finally she
of the hall porter, who had an epileptic seizure in the
street and was brought home in a cab. Of this, of
course, she had only heard, but the idea of epileptic
fits, of falling down, acquired a great influence over
her phantasies, and later on influenced the form of
her own hysterical attacks. When a person of the
female sex dreams of falling, this almost always has
a sexual significance; she becomes a fallen woman,
and, for the purpose of the dream under
course of analysis, in which she imagines that she
has married far beneath her station and now goes to
the market as a market-woman. Lastly, the market-
basket might be interpreted as the mark of a
servant. This suggests further memories of her
childhood- of a cook who was discharged because
she stole; she, too, sank to her knees and begged
for mercy. The dreamer was at that time twelve
years of age. Then emerges a recollection of a
into the window of a lady's room, and of her little
sister, who was frightened because an idiot who was
passing looked in at the window. And now, from
behind all this emerges an obscure recollection from
her tenth year of a nurse in the country to whom
one of the men-servants made love (and whose
conduct the child may have noticed), and who was
sent packing, thrown out, together with her lover (in
the dream we have the expression: thrown into); an
hysterical, persons; and the part played in these
dreams by childish scenes might be conditioned by
the nature of the neurosis, and not by the nature of
dreams in general. In the interpretation of my own
dreams, however, which is assuredly not undertaken
on account of grave symptoms of illness, it happens
just as frequently that in the latent dreamcontent I
am unexpectedly confronted with a scene of my
childhood, and that a whole series of my dreams will
I.
After I have been travelling, and have gone
to bed hungry and tired, the prime necessities of life
begin to assert their claims in sleep, and I dream as
follows: I go into a kitchen in order to ask for some
pudding. There three women are standing, one of
whom is the hostess; she is rolling something in her
hands, as though she were making dumplings. She
replies that I must wait until she has finished (not
distinctly as a speech). I become impatient, and go
away affronted. I want to put on an overcoat; but
or rather, which I began to read from the end of the
first volume, when I was perhaps thirteen years of
age. I have never learned the name of the novel, or
that of its author, but the end remains vividly in my
memory. The hero becomes insane, and continually
calls out the names of the three women who have
brought the greatest happiness and the greatest
misfortune into his life. Pelagie is one of these
names. I still do not know what to make of this
opportunities. I am in the habit of using the
anecdote to elucidate the factor of retrospective
tendencies in the mechanism of the psychoneuroses.
One of the Parcae, then, is rubbing the palms of her
hands together, as though she were making
dumplings. A strange occupation for one of the
Fates, and urgently in need of explanation! This
explanation is furnished by another and earlier
memory of my childhood. When I was six years old,
words: "Thou owest nature a death."[19] Thus the
women to whom I go in the kitchen, as I so often
did in my childhood when I was hungry and my
mother, sitting by the fire, admonished me to wait
until lunch was ready, are really the Parcae. And
now for the dumplings! At least one of my teachers
at the University- the very one to whom I am
indebted for my histological knowledge (epidermis)-
would be reminded by the name Knodl (Knodl
plagiarism- plagiostomi[20] (sharks)- fish-bladder-
connects the old novel with the affair of Knodl and
the overcoats (German: Uberzieher = pullover,
overcoat or condom), which obviously refer to an
appliance appertaining to the technique of sex. This,
it is true, is a very forced and irrational connection,
but it is nevertheless one which I could not have
established in waking life if it had not already been
established by the dream-work. Indeed, as though
which the scales of epidermis play a part (mother-
hostess), and mental derangement (the novel), and
a remedy from the Latin pharmacopeia (Kuche =
kitchen) which numbs the sensation of hunger,
namely, cocaine.
In this manner I could follow the intricate
trains of thought still farther, and could fully
elucidate that part of the dream which is lacking in
the analysis; but I must refrain, because the
the same misuse of names as above in the case of
Pelagie, Knodl, Brucke, Fleischl. No one will deny
that such playing with names is a childish trick; if I
indulge in it the practice amounts to an act of
retribution, for my own name has often enough been
the subject of such feeble attempts at wit. Goethe
once remarked how sensitive a man is in respect to
his name, which he feels that he fills even as he fills
his skin; Herder having written the following lines on
his name:
Der du von Gottern abstammst, von Gothen
opportunity of making an excellent bargain. (Missing
an opportunity at the breast of the wet- nurse; see
above.) One of the dream-thoughts occasioned by
the sensation of hunger really amounts to this: We
should let nothing escape; we should take what we
can get, even if we do a little wrong; we should
never let an opportunity go by; life is so short, and
death inevitable. Because this is meant even
sexually, and because desire is unwilling to check
II.
A second dream requires a longer
preliminary statement:
I had driven to the Western Station in order
to start on a holiday trip to the Aussee, but I went
on to the platform in time for the Ischl train, which
leaves earlier. There I saw Count Thun, who was
again going to see the Emperor at Ischl. In spite of
the rain he arrived in an open carriage, came
straight through the entrance- gate for the local
trains, and with a curt gesture and not a word of
If my lord Count would tread a measure,
tread a measure, Let him but say his pleasure,
And I will play the tune. -
(Possibly another person would not have
recognized the tune.) The whole evening I was in a
high-spirited, pugnacious mood; I chaffed the waiter
and the cab-driver, I hope without hurting their
feelings; and now all kinds of bold and revolutionary
thoughts came into my mind, such as would fit
off for a holiday. I make all sorts of amusing plans
for the vacation. Now a gentleman arrives whom I
know as a Government representative at the
medical examinations, and who has won the
flattering nickname of "the Governmental bed-
fellow" (literally, by-sleeper) by his activities in this
capacity. By insisting on his official status he
secured half a first-class compartment, and I heard
one guard say to another: "Where are we going to
A crowd, a students' meeting.... A certain
Count (Thun or Taaffe) is making a speech. Being
asked to say something about the Germans, he
declares, with a contemptuous gesture, that their
favourite flower is coltsfoot, and he then puts into
his buttonhole something like a torn leaf, really the
crumpled skeleton of a leaf. I jump up, and I jump
up,[22] but I am surprised at my implied attitude.
Then, more indistinctly: It seems as though this
am evading detection. Now I am downstairs, and I
find a narrow, steeply rising path, which I follow. -
Again indistinctly: It is as though my second
task were to get away from the city, just as my first
was to get out of the building. I am riding in a one-
horse cab, and I tell the driver to take me to a
railway station. "I can't drive with you on the railway
line itself," I say, when he reproaches me as though
I had tired him out. Here it seems as though I had
gentleman. I think out a scheme for remaining
unrecognized, but I see this plan already being
carried out. Thinking and experiencing are here, as
it were, the same thing. He pretends to be blind, at
least in one eye, and I hold before him a male glass
urinal (which we have to buy in the city, or have
bought). I am thus a sick-nurse, and have to give
him the urinal because he is blind. If the conductor
sees us in this position, he must pass us by without
urinate.
The whole dream seems a sort of phantasy,
association of ideas then leads me to England, to the
house of my brother, who used in jest to twit his
wife with the title of Tennyson's poem Fifty Years
Ago, whereupon the children were used to correct
him: Fifteen Years Ago. This phantasy, however,
which attaches itself to the thoughts evoked by the
sight of Count Thun, is, like the facade of an Italian
church, without organic connection with the
structure behind it, but unlike such a facade it is full
(German, Donau) to Austria (Wachau!) was the
occasion of an open revolt. One of our fellow-
conspirators was our only aristocratic schoolmate-
he was called "the giraffe" on account of his
conspicuous height- and while he was being
reprimanded by the tyrant of the school, the
professor of the German language, he stood just as
the Count stood in the dream. The explanation of
the favourite flower, and the putting into a button-
The Spanish line occurs in Figaro.) Here in Vienna
white carnations have become the badge of the
Anti-Semites, red ones of the Social Democrats.
Behind this is the recollection of an anti-Semitic
challenge during a railway journey in beautiful
Saxony (Anglo Saxon). The third scene contributing
to the formation of the first situation in the dream
dates from my early student days. There was a
debate in a German students' club about the relation
knew he had herded swine, I was not surprised at
the tone of his discourse. (In the dream I am
surprised at my German Nationalistic feelings.)
There was a great commotion, and an almost
general demand that I should retract my words, but
I stood my ground. The insulted student was too
sensible to take the advice which was offered him,
that he should send me a challenge, and let the
matter drop. -
(Huflattich)- I do not know whether I do so
correctly- by pisse-en-lit. I get this idea from Zola's
Germinal, in which some children are told to bring
some dandelion salad with them. The dog- chien-
has a name sounding not unlike the verb for the
major function (chier, as pisser stands for the minor
one). Now we shall soon have the indecent in all its
three physical categories, for in the same Germinal,
which deals with the future revolution, there is a
the title of a chapter on "Therapy," if I should ever
succeed in giving a detailed account of my
conception and treatment of hysteria. -
I cannot give so detailed an interpretation of
the second scene of the dream, out of sheer regard
for the censorship. For at this point I put myself in
the place of a certain eminent gentleman of the
revolutionary period, who had an adventure with an
eagle (German: Adler) and who is said to have
have enjoyed in her house. The incident of the lamp
goes back to Grillparzer, who notes a charming
experience of a similar nature, of which he
afterwards made use in Hero and Leander (the
waves of the sea and of love- the Armada and the
storm). -
I must forego a detailed analysis of the two
remaining portions of the dream; I shall single out
only those elements which lead me back to the two
portions of the dream as impertinent boasting, the
exuberance of an absurd megalomania, long ago
suppressed in my waking life, which, however, dares
to show itself, with individual ramifications, even in
the manifest dream- content (it seems to me that I
am a cunning fellow), making the high-spirited
mood of the evening before the dream perfectly
intelligible.
Boasting of every kind, indeed thus, the
which is known as a girl-catcher- the furniture in the
ministerial chambers). Children, we know, believe
that one attracts people's attention with anything
new. Now I have been told of the following incident
of my childhood; my recollection of the occurrence
itself has been replaced by my recollection of the
story. I am told that at the age of two I still used
occasionally to wet my bed, and that when I was
reproved for doing so I consoled my father by
intimate connection between wetting the bed and
the character trait of ambition.
Then, when I was seven or eight years of
age another domestic incident occurred which I
remember very well. One evening, before going to
bed, I had disregarded the dictates of discretion,
and had satisfied my needs in my parents' bedroom,
and in their presence. Reprimanding me for this
delinquency, my father remarked: "That boy will
urinated before him. By means of the glaucoma I
remind my father of cocaine, which stood him in
good stead during his operation, as though I had
thereby fulfilled my promise. Besides, I make sport
of him; since he is blind, I must hold the glass in
front of him, and I delight in allusions to my
knowledge of the theory of hysteria, of which I am
proud.[30]
If the two childish scenes of urination are,
quite unusual for me to be disturbed in sleep by any
physical need, least of all at the time when I woke
on this occasion- a quarter to four in the morning. I
would forestall a further objection by remarking that
I have hardly ever felt a desire to urinate after
waking early on other journeys made under more
comfortable circumstances. However, I can leave
this point undecided without weakening my
argument.
latent content it is connected with the most remote
experiences; and I can actually show in the analysis
of hysteria that these remote experiences have in a
very real sense remained recent right up to the
present. But I still find it very difficult to prove this
conjecture; I shall have to return to the probable
role in dream-formation of the earliest experiences
of our childhood in another connection (chapter VII).
Of the three peculiarities of the dream-
consideration of the structure of the psychic
apparatus- which we shall undertake later after we
have seen that by means of dream-interpretation we
are able to glance as through an inspection- hole
into the interior of this apparatus.
But here and now I will emphasize another
result of the last few dream-analyses. The dream
often appears to have several meanings; not only
may several wish-fulfilments be combined in it, as
Footnotes
[1] It is evident that Robert's idea- that the
dream is intended to rid our memory of the useless
impressions which it has received during the day- is
no longer tenable if indifferent memories of our
childhood appear in our dreams with some degree of
frequency. We should be obliged to conclude that
our dreams generally perform their prescribed task
very inadequately.
[2] Cf. The Psycho-pathology of Everyday
Life.
[8] Cf. Chap. VII on "transference."
[9] Havelock Ellis, a kindly critic of The
Interpretation of Dreams, writes in The World of
Dreams (p. 169): "From this point on, not many of
us will be able to follow F." But Mr. Ellis has not
undertaken any analyses of dreams, and will not
believe how unjustifiable it is to judge them by the
manifest dream-content. -
[10] Cf. what is said of speech in dreams in
phantasy has not appeared in a distorted form as a
dream, but has become undisguisedly conscious and
delusional. With this dream the patient began her
psycho-analytical treatment. It was only later that I
learned that with this dream she repeated the initial
trauma in which her neurosis originated, and since
then I have noticed the same behaviour in other
persons who in their childhood were victims of
sexual attacks, and now, as it were, wish in their
[16] The Jewish descent of the Marshal is
somewhat doubtful. -
[17] In the original this paragraph contains
many plays on the word Hetz (hurry, chase, scurry,
game, etc.).- TR. -
[18] Fensterln is the custom, now falling into
disuse, found in rural districts of the German
Schwarzwald, of lovers who woo their sweethearts
at their bedroom windows, to which they ascend by
before the same teacher.
[21] Popo = "backside," in German nursery
language. -
[22] This repetition has crept into the text of
the dream, apparently through absent-mindedness,
and I have left it because analysis shows that it has
a meaning. -
[23] This is an error and not a slip, for I
learned later that the Emmersdorf in Wachau is not
of Jehovah from the above motto. The English medal
contains the name of the Deity, in Hebrew letters,
on the background of a cloud, and placed in such a
manner that one may equally well regard it as part
of the picture or as part of the inscription.
[28] Frauenzimmer, German, Zimmer-room,
is appended to Frauen-woman, in order to imply a
slight contempt.- TR. -
[29] Another interpretation: He is one-eyed
a new bed.
hence, I am his nurse in the dream.- "Thinking and
experiencing are here, as it were, identical"; this
recalls a highly revolutionary closet drama by Oscar
Panizza, in which God, the Father, is ignominiously
treated as a palsied greybeard. With Him will and
deed are one, and in the book he has to be
restrained by His archangel, a sort of Ganymede,
from scolding and swearing, because His curses
would immediately be fulfilled.- Making plans is a
occurred to me in the dream, "thinking and
experiencing are the same thing," refer to the
explanation of hysterical symptoms with which the
male urinal (glass) is also associated.- I need not
explain the principle of Gschnas to a Viennese; it
consists in constructing objects of rare and costly
appearance out of trivial, and preferably comical and
worthless material- for example, making suits of
armour out of kitchen utensils, wisps of straw and
able to allude to it by means of the dream-element
"male urine-glass," because I had been told that at
the last Gschnas evening a poison-chalice of Lucretia
Borgia's had been exhibited, the chief constituent of
which had consisted of a glass urinal for men, such
as is used in hospitals.
[31] The stratification of the meanings of
dreams is one of the most delicate but also one of
the most fruitful problems of dream interpretation.
CHAPTER 5 (Part 2)
THE MATERIAL AND SOURCES OF DREAMS
C. The Somatic Sources of Dreams
If we attempt to interest a cultured layman
in the problems of dreams, and if, with this end in
view, we ask him what he believes to be the source
of dreams, we shall generally find that he feels quite
sure he knows at least this part of the solution. He
thinks immediately of the influence exercised on the
formation of dreams by a disturbed or impeded
digestion ("Dreams come from the stomach"), an
accidental position of the body, a trifling occurrence
subjective reality, and the bodily stimuli arising
within the body; and we have also noticed that the
writers on dreams are inclined to thrust into the
background any psychic sources of dreams which
may operate simultaneously with the somatic
stimuli, or to exclude them altogether. In testing the
claims made on behalf of these somatic stimuli we
have learned that the significance of the objective
excitation of the sensory organs- whether accidental
organs exercises upon the content of our dreams.
Nerve stimulus and bodily stimulus would
thus be the anatomical sources of dreams; that is,
according to many writers, the sole and exclusive
sources of dreams.
But we have already considered a number of
doubtful points, which seem to question not so much
the correctness of the somatic theory as its
adequacy.
and 6.7 percent of these dreams respectively. Only
two dreams in the whole collection could be referred
to organic sensations. These statistics confirm what
a cursory survey of our own experience would
already, have led us to suspect.
A distinction has often been made between
nerve-stimulus dreams which have already been
thoroughly investigated, and other forms of dreams.
Spitta, for example, divided dreams into
nature of the external stimulus is not recognized in
the dream, but is constantly mistaken for something
else; and secondly, why the result of the reaction of
the perceiving mind to this misconceived stimulus
should be so indeterminate and variable. We have
seen that Strumpell, in answer to these questions,
asserts that the mind, since it turns away from the
outer world during sleep, is not in a position to give
the correct interpretation of the objective sensory
collects about itself, as it were, a greater or lesser
number of such images, from which the impression
resulting from the nerve-stimulus receives its
psychic value. In this connection it is commonly
said, as in ordinary language we say of the waking
procedure, that the mind interprets in sleep the
impressions of nervous stimuli. The result of this
interpretation is the socalled nerve-stimulus dream-
that is, a dream the components of which are
this theory, Strumpell makes use of an excellent
simile. It is "as though ten fingers of a person
ignorant of music were to stray over the keyboard of
an instrument." The implication is that the dream is
not a psychic phenomenon, originating from psychic
motives, but the result of a physiological stimulus,
which expresses itself in psychic symptomatology
because the apparatus affected by the stimulus is
not capable of any other mode of expression. Upon
by an extraordinary number of different
concepts.[32] But the theory of Strumpell and
Wundt cannot point to any sort of motive which
controls the relation between the external stimulus
and the dream-concept chosen to interpret it, and
therefore it cannot explain the "peculiar choice"
which the stimuli "often enough make in the course
of their productive activity" (Lipps, Grundtatsachen
des Seelen-lebens, p. 170). Other objections may be
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 discriminates between
sensations, even in sleep. Burdach infers from these
observations that we must not assume that the
mind is incapable of interpreting sensory stimuli in
the sleeping state, but rather that it is not
sufficiently interested in them. The arguments which
another way. Observation shows that external
stimuli do not oblige me to dream, even though
these stimuli appear in the dream-content as soon
as I begin to dream- supposing that I do dream. In
response to a touch or pressure stimulus
experienced while I am asleep, a variety of reactions
are at my disposal. I may overlook it, and find on
waking that my leg has become uncovered, or that I
have been lying on an arm; indeed, pathology offers
however, would not be the case if the incentive to
dreaming did not lie outside the somatic dream-
sources.
Appreciating the importance of the above-
mentioned lacunae in the explanation of dreams by
somatic stimuli, other writers- Scherner, for
example, and, following him, the philosopher
Volkelt- endeavoured to determine more precisely
the nature of the psychic activities which cause the
released from the shackles imposed upon it during
the day, strives to represent symbolically the nature
of the organ from which the stimulus proceeds. Thus
there exists a sort of dream-book, a guide to the
interpretation of dreams, by means of which bodily
sensations, the conditions of the organs, and states
of stimulation, may be inferred from the dream-
images. "Thus the image of a cat expressed extreme
ill-temper; the image of pale, smooth pastry the
baskets, and the bladder in round, bag-shaped or
merely hollow objects. It is of particular significance
that at the close of the dream the stimulating organ
or its function is often represented without disguise
and usually on the dreamer's own body. Thus the
toothache-dream commonly ends by the dreamer
drawing a tooth out of his mouth." It cannot be said
that this theory of dream-interpretation has found
much favour with other writers. It seems, above all,
in this case also a stimulus may be expressed in the
dream-content by several representative symbols;
thus even Scherner's follower Volkelt was unable to
confirm the representation of the body as a house.
Another objection is that here again the dream-
activity is regarded as a useless and aimless activity
of the mind, since, according to this theory, the
mind is content with merely forming phantasies
around the stimulus with which it is dealing, without
the eye, the ear, the teeth, the bowels, etc., in order
to arouse the dream-activity, one is confronted with
the difficulty of proving that this increase of
stimulation is objective; and proof is possible only in
a very few cases. If the dream of flying is a
symbolization of the upward and downward motion
of the pulmonary lobes, either this dream, as has
already been remarked by Strumpell, should be
dreamt much oftener, or it should be possible to
symbolizations of the bodily organs and functions do
occur in dreams: for example, that water in a dream
often signifies a desire to urinate, that the male
genital organ may be represented by an upright
staff, or a pillar, etc. With dreams which exhibit a
very animated field of vision and brilliant colours, in
contrast to the dimness of other dreams, the
interpretation that they are "dreams due to visual
stimulation" can hardly be dismissed, nor can we
theory as an idle invention without seeking the
kernel of truth which may be contained in it. We are
therefore confronted with the task of finding a
different explanation of the supposed symbolization
of the alleged dental stimulus.
Throughout our consideration of the theory
of the somatic sources of dreams, I have refrained
from urging the argument which arises from our
analyses of dreams. If, by a procedure which has
entirely different kinds of dreams, of which only one
kind has come under our observation, while the
other kind alone has been observed by the earlier
investigators. It only remains now to find a place in
our theory of dreams for the facts on which the
current doctrine of somatic dream-stimuli is based.
We have already taken the first step in this
direction in advancing the thesis that the dream-
work is under a compulsion to elaborate into a
present as actual in the sleeping mind. As far as we
have hitherto analysed the dreammaterial, we have
discovered it to be a collection of psychic remnants
and memory-traces, which we were obliged to credit
(on account of the preference shown for recent and
for infantile material) with a character of
psychological actuality, though the nature of this
actuality was not at the time determinable. We shall
now have little difficulty in predicting what will
the physical stimuli received during sleep is possible.
Where this combination is effected, a conceptual
material for the dream-content has been found
which will represent both kinds of dream-sources,
the somatic as well as the psychic.
The nature of the dream is not altered when
somatic material is added to the psychic dream-
sources; it still remains a wish fulfilment, no matter
how its expression is determined by the actual
material available.
I should like to find room here for a number
disturb the sleeper, while in another case it will force
the sleeper to wake, or will assist the attempt to
subdue the stimulus by weaving it into the texture of
the dream. In accordance with the multiplicity of
these constellations, external objective stimuli will
be expressed more rarely or more frequently in the
case of one person than in that of another. In my
own case. since I am an excellent sleeper, and
obstinately refuse to allow myself to be disturbed
saddle; he calls my attention to something (probably
to the fact that I have a very bad seat). Now I begin
to feel more and more at ease on the back of my
highly intelligent horse; I sit more comfortably, and
I find that I am quite at home up here. My saddle is
a sort of pad, which completely fills the space
between the neck and the rump of the horse. I ride
between two vans, and just manage to clear them.
After riding up the street for some distance, I turn
at the same time a hazy idea that I am in a strange
city, in which I do not work.
It will not at once be apparent that this
dream originated under the influence, or rather
under the compulsion, of a painstimulus. The day
before, however, I had suffered from boils, which
made every movement a torture, and at last a boil
had grown to the size of an apple at the root of the
scrotum, and had caused me the most intolerable
never sat on a horse but once- and then without a
saddle- and I did not like it. But in this dream I ride
as though I had no boil on the perineum; or rather, I
ride, just because I want to have none. To judge
from the description, my saddle is the poultice which
has enabled me to fall asleep. Probably, being thus
comforted, I did not feel anything of my pain during
the first few hours of my sleep. Then the painful
sensations made themselves felt, and tried to wake
sensation denied and of the image used to suppress
it serve the dream also as a means to connect other
material actually present in the mind with the
situation in the dream, and to give this material
representation. I am riding on a gray horse- the
colour of the horse exactly corresponds with the
pepper-and-salt suit in which I last saw my
colleague P in the country. I have been warned that
highly seasoned food is the cause of boils, and in
position which I occupied in the patient's household
until I was replaced by my colleague P. "I thought
you were safe in the saddle up there," one of my
few wellwishers among the eminent physicians of
the city recently said to me, with reference to the
same household. And it was a feat to practise
psychotherapy for eight to ten hours a day, while
suffering such pain, but I know that I cannot
continue my peculiarly strenuous work for any
out of impressions of Verona and Siena. A still
deeper interpretation leads to sexual dream-
thoughts, and I recall what the dream allusions to
that beautiful country were supposed to mean in the
dream of a female patient who had never been to
Italy (to Italy, German: gen Italien = Genitalien =
genitals); at the same time there are references to
the house in which I preceded my friend P as
physician, and to the place where the boil is located.
newspapers had reported that His Holiness was
slightly indisposed. But in the course of the morning
my wife asked me: "Did you hear the dreadful tolling
of the church bells this morning?" I had no idea that
I had heard it, but now I understood my dream. It
was the reaction of my need for sleep to the noise
by which the pious Tyroleans were trying to wake
me. I avenged myself on them by the conclusion
which formed the content of my dream, and
dream of the sick woman who throws the cooling
apparatus from her cheek at night is an instance of
an unusual manner of reacting to a pain-stimulus
with a wish fulfilment; it seems as though the
patient had temporarily succeeded in making herself
analgesic, and accompanied this by ascribing her
pains to a stranger.
My dream of the three Parcae is obviously a
hunger-dream, but it has contrived to shift the need
activity concerns itself with sensations during sleep
is revealed with unusual clarity. A young lawyer,
who is full of his first great bankruptcy case, and
falls asleep in the afternoon, behaves just as the
great Napoleon did. He dreams of a certain G. Reich
in Hussiatyn, whose acquaintance he has made in
connection with the bankruptcy case, but Hussiatyn
(German: husten, to cough) forces itself upon his
attention still further; he is obliged to wake, only to
but he thereby reveals one of the secrets of
dreaming in general. In a certain sense, all dreams
are convenience-dreams; they serve the purpose of
continuing to sleep instead of waking. The dream is
the guardian of sleep, not its disturber. In another
place we shall have occasion to justify this
conception in respect to the psychic factors that
make for waking; but we can already demonstrate
its applicability to the objective external stimuli.
memory of the thunder of the guns at Arcole which
is trying to disturb him.[33] -
The wish to sleep, to which the conscious
ego has adjusted itself, and which (together with the
dream-censorship and the "secondary elaboration"
to be mentioned later) represents the ego's
contribution to the dream, must thus always be
taken into account as a motive of dream-formation,
and every successful dream is a fulfilment of this
interpretations which are possible at all, only such
are admitted as are acceptable to the dictatorial
censorship of the sleep-wish. The logic of dream
situations would run, for example: "It is the
nightingale, and not the lark." For if it is the lark,
love's night is at an end. From among the
interpretations of the stimulus which are thus
admissible, that one is selected which can secure the
best connection with the wish- impulses that are
material, for which an appropriate wish-fulfilment is
sought, just as (see above) mediating ideas between
two psychical dream-stimuli are sought. To this
extent it is true of a number of dreams that the
somatic element dictates the dream-content. In this
extreme case even a wish that is not actually
present may be aroused for the purpose of dream-
formation. But the dream cannot do otherwise than
represent a wish in some situation as fulfilled; it is,
In the psychic life there exist, as we have
seen, repressed wishes, which belong to the first
system, and to whose fulfilment the second system
is opposed. We do not mean this in a historic sense-
that such wishes have once existed and have
subsequently been destroyed. The doctrine of
repression, which we need in the study of
psychoneuroses, asserts that such repressed wishes
still exist, but simultaneously with an inhibition
sleep, this constellation is utilized by the
dreamactivity to procure the fulfilment- with more or
less maintenance of the censorship- of an otherwise
suppressed wish.
This state of affairs makes possible a certain
number of anxiety dreams, while others of these
dream-formations which are unfavourable to the
wish-theory exhibit a different mechanism. For the
anxiety in dreams may of course be of a
of which from psychic motives would have resulted
in the same release of anxiety. It is not difficult to
reconcile these two apparently contradictory cases.
When two psychic formations, an affective
inclination and a conceptual content, are intimately
connected, either one being actually present will
evoke the other, even in a dream; now the anxiety
of somatic origin evokes the suppressed conceptual
content, now it is the released conceptual content,
The general aggregate of bodily sensation
must undoubtedly be included among the dominant
dream-stimuli of internal bodily origin. Not that it is
capable of supplying the dream-content; but it
forces the dream-thoughts to make a choice from
the material destined to serve the purpose of
representation in the dream- content, inasmuch as it
brings within easy reach that part of the material
which is adapted to its own character, and holds the
recent, but of no great significance. I mean that
they are utilized for the dream formation if they are
of such a kind that they can be united with the
conceptual content of the psychic dream-source, but
not otherwise. They are treated as a cheap ever-
ready material, which can be used whenever it is
needed, and not as valuable material which itself
prescribes the manner in which it must be utilized. I
might suggest the analogy of a connoisseur giving
every night.[34] -
Perhaps an example which takes us back to
the interpretation of dreams will best illustrate my
meaning. One day I was trying to understand the
significance of the sensation of being inhibited, of
not being able to move from the spot, of not being
able to get something done, etc., which occurs so
frequently in dreams, and is so closely allied to
anxiety. That night I had the following dream: I am
have two apartments, which are connected only by
the main staircase. My consultation-rooms and my
study are on the raised ground-floor, and my living-
rooms are on the first floor. Late at night, when I
have finished my work downstairs, I go upstairs to
my bedroom. On the evening before the dream I
had actually gone this short distance with my
garments in disarray- that is, I had taken off my
collar, tie and cuffs; but in the dream this had
But the stairs up which I go are not those of
my own house; at first I do not recognize them;
only the person coming towards me informs me of
their whereabouts. This woman is the maid of an old
lady whom I visit twice daily in order to give her
hypodermic injections; the stairs, too, are precisely
similar to those which I have to climb twice a day in
this old lady's house.
How do these stairs and this woman get into
woman of cleanly instincts, takes a different view of
the matter. She lies in wait for me, to see whether I
shall take the liberty referred to, and, if she sees
that I do, I can distinctly hear her growl. For days
thereafter, when we meet she refuses to greet me
with the customary signs of respect. On the day
before the dream the housekeeper's attitude was
reinforced by that of the maid. I had just furnished
my usual hurried visit to the patient when the
reputation suffers in both the houses which my
dream fuses into one.
I must postpone the further interpretation of
this dream until I can indicate the origin of the
typical dream of being incompletely clothed. In the
meantime, as a provisional deduction from the
dream just related, I note that the dream-sensation
of inhibited movement is always aroused at a point
where a certain connection requires it. A peculiar
D. Typical Dreams -
there are dreams which exhibit a complete contrast
to the individual's customary liberty to endow his
dream-world with a special individuality, thereby
making it inaccessible to an alien understanding:
there are a number of dreams which almost every
one has dreamed in the same manner, and of which
we are accustomed to assume that they have the
same significance in the case of every dreamer. A
peculiar interest attaches to these typical dreams,
dreamer which in other cases have led us to
comprehension of the dream, or else these
associations are confused and inadequate, so that
they do not help us to solve our problem.
Why this is the case, and how we can
remedy this defect in our technique, are points
which will be discussed in a later chapter. The
reader will then understand why I can deal with only
a few of the group of typical dreams in this chapter,
NAKEDNESS
of being utterly powerless to alter the painful
situation. It is only in this connection that the dream
is typical; otherwise the nucleus of its content may
be involved in all sorts of other connections, or may
be replaced by individual amplifications. The
essential point is that one has a painful feeling of
shame, and is anxious to hide one's nakedness,
usually by means of locomotion, but is absolutely
unable to do so. I believe that the great majority of
dressing that is contrary to regulations. "I was in the
street without my sabre, and I saw some officers
approaching," or "I had no collar," or "I was wearing
checked civilian trousers," etc.
The persons before whom one is ashamed
are almost always strangers, whose faces remain
indeterminate. It never happens, in the typical
dream, that one is reproved or even noticed on
account of the lack of clothing which causes one
fulfilment, while the embarrassment is for some
reason retained, so that the two components are not
in agreement. We have an interesting proof that the
dream which is partially distorted by wish-fulfilment
has not been properly understood; for it has been
made the basis of a fairy-tale familiar to us all in
Andersen's version of The Emperor's New Clothes,
and it has more recently received poetical treatment
by Fulda in The Talisman. In Andersen's fairy-tale
This situation is thereby robbed of its original
meaning, and made to serve alien ends. But we
shall see that such a misunderstanding of the
dream- content often occurs through the conscious
activity of a second psychic system, and is to be
recognized as a factor of the final form of the
dream; and further, that in the development of
obsessions and phobias similar misunderstandings-
still, of course, within the same psychic personality-
relatives, as well as by strange nurses, servants and
visitors, in a state of insufficient clothing, and at that
time we were not ashamed of our nakedness.[36] In
the case of many rather older children it may be
observed that being undressed has an exciting effect
upon them, instead of making them feel ashamed.
They laugh, leap about, slap or thump their own
bodies; the mother, or whoever is present, scolds
them, saying: "Fie, that is shameful- you mustn't do
delusion of being observed while dressing and
undressing may be directly traced to these
experiences; and among those who have remained
perverse, there is a class in whom the childish
impulse is accentuated into a symptom: the class of
exhibitionists.
This age of childhood, in which the sense of
shame is unknown, seems a paradise when we look
back upon it later, and paradise itself is nothing but
nakedness, then, are exhibition-dreams.[37]
The nucleus of an exhibition-dream is
furnished by one's own person, which is seen not as
that of a child, but as it exists in the present, and by
the idea of scanty clothing which emerges
indistinctly, owing to the superimposition of so many
later situations of being partially clothed, or out of
consideration for the censorship; to these elements
are added the persons in whose presence one is
wish to that single intimately-known person for
whom the exposure was intended. "A number of
strangers," moreover, often occur in dreams in all
sorts of other connections; as a counter-wish they
always signify a secret.[38] It will be seen that even
that restitution of the old state of affairs that occurs
in paranoia complies with this counter-tendency.
One is no longer alone; one is quite positively being
watched; but the spectators are a number of
represents to perfection a conflict of the will, a
denial. According to our unconscious purpose, the
exhibition is to proceed; according to the demands
of the censorship, it is to come to an end.
The relation of our typical dreams to fairy-
tales and other fiction and poetry is neither sporadic
nor accidental. Sometimes the penetrating insight of
the poet has analytically recognized the process of
transformation of which the poet is otherwise the
strange country; if you have seen much and
experienced much; if you have cares and sorrows,
and are, perhaps, utterly wretched and forlorn, you
will some night inevitably dream that you are
approaching your home; you will see it shining and
glittering in the loveliest colours; lovely and gracious
figures will come to meet you; and then you will
suddenly discover that you are ragged, naked, and
covered with dust. An indescribable feeling of shame
forbidden, break into the dream behind the
unobjectionable and permissibly conscious wishes of
the homeless man, and it is for this reason that the
dream which is objectified in the legend of Nausicaa
regularly develops into an anxiety-dream.
My own dream of hurrying upstairs, which
presently changed into being glued to the stairs, is
likewise an exhibition-dream, for it reveals the
essential ingredients of such a dream. It must
succession, must be pronounced as one syllable, ab.
It is just the same with the interrelations of dreams.
The dream of the stairs has been taken from a
series of dreams with whose other members I am
familiar, having interpreted them. A dream included
in this series must belong to the same context. Now,
the other dreams of the series are based on the
memory of a nurse to whom I was entrusted for a
season, from the time when I was still at the breast
prehistoric old woman. It is to be assumed, of
course, that the child was fond of his teacher in spite
of her harsh behaviour.[39]
(b) DREAMS OF THE DEATH OF
BELOVED PERSONS
Another series of dreams which may be
called typical are those whose content is that a
beloved relative, a parent, brother, sister, child, or
the like, has died. We must at once distinguish two
IV). The dream does not mean that she desires the
death of her little nephew; as we have learned, it
merely conceals the wish to see a certain beloved
person again after a long separation- the same
person whom she had seen after as long an interval
at the funeral of another nephew. This wish, which is
the real content of the dream, gives no cause for
sorrow, and for that reason no sorrow is felt in the
dream. We see here that the feeling contained in the
the broadest possible basis.
We have already cited a dream from which
we could see that the wishes represented as fulfilled
in dreams are not always current wishes. They may
also be bygone, discarded, buried and repressed
wishes, which we must nevertheless credit with a
sort of continued existence, merely on account of
their reappearance in a dream. They are not dead,
like persons who have died, in the sense that we
during the pregnancy of which she was the outcome,
had fallen into a profound emotional depression, and
had passionately wished for the death of the child in
her womb. Having herself grown up and become
pregnant, she was only following the example of her
mother.
If anyone dreams that his father or mother,
his brother or sister, has died, and his dream
expresses grief, I should never adduce this as proof
Let us first of all consider the relation of
children to their brothers and sisters. I do not know
why we presuppose that it must be a loving one,
since examples of enmity among adult brothers and
sisters are frequent in everyone's experience, and
since we are so often able to verify the fact that this
estrangement originated during childhood, or has
always existed. Moreover, many adults who today
are devoted to their brothers and sisters, and
egoistical; he feels his wants acutely, and strives
remorselessly to satisfy them, especially against his
competitors, other children, and first of all against
his brothers and sisters. And yet we do not on that
account call a child wicked- we call him naughty; he
is not responsible for his misdeeds, either in our own
judgment or in the eyes of the law. And this is as it
should be; for we may expect that within the very
period of life which we reckon as childhood, altruistic
correspondence between the so-called hysterical
character and that of a naughty child is positively
striking. The obsessional neurosis, on the other
hand, corresponds to a super-morality, which
develops as a strong reinforcement against the
primary character that is threatening to revive.
Many persons, then, who now love their
brothers and sisters, and who would feel bereaved
by their death, harbour in their unconscious hostile
sisters. So far the child has been the only one; now
he is informed that the stork has brought a new
baby. The child inspects the new arrival, and
has to expect on account of a new-comer. A
connection of mine, who now gets on very well with
a sister, who is four years her junior, responded to
the news of this sister's arrival with the reservation:
"But I shan't give her my red cap, anyhow." If the
child should come to realize only at a later stage
that its happiness may be prejudiced by a younger
brother or sister, its enmity will be aroused at this
period. I know of a case where a girl, not three
the interval after his death?[42] Of course, this
attitude of the child towards the younger brother or
sister is, under normal circumstances, a mere
function of the difference of age. After a certain
interval the maternal instincts of the older girl will
be awakened towards the helpless new-born infant.
Feelings of hostility towards brothers and
sisters must occur far more frequently in children
than is observed by their obtuse elders.[43]
superfluous. Whenever the conversation turns upon
her he chimes in, and cries angrily: "Too (l)ittle, too
(l)ittle!" During the last few months, since the child
has outgrown this disparagement, owing to her
splendid development, he has found another reason
for his insistence that she does not deserve so much
attention. He reminds us, on every suitable pretext:
"She hasn't any teeth."[44] We all of us recollect the
case of the eldest daughter of another sister of
that yet, can she?" Lucie was her rival- two and a
half years younger.
patient, since it seemed to have some bearing on
the symptoms under consideration that day, she
answered, to my astonishment, that she had never
had such dreams. But another dream occurred to
her, which presumably had nothing to do with the
case- a dream which she had first dreamed at the
age of four, when she was the youngest child, and
had since then dreamed repeatedly. "A number of
children, all her brothers and sisters with her boy
person: "What becomes of children when they are
dead?" The answer would probably have been:
"They grow wings and become angels." After this
explanation. all the brothers and sisters and cousins
in the dream now have wings, like angels and- this
is the important point- they fly away. Our little
angel-maker is left alone: just think, the only one
out of such a crowd! That the children romp about a
meadow, from which they fly away, points almost
dead has little but the word in common with our
own. The child knows nothing of the horrors of
decay, of shivering in the cold grave, of the terror of
the infinite Nothing, the thought of which the adult,
as all the myths of the hereafter testify, finds so
intolerable. The fear of death is alien to the child;
and so he plays with the horrid word, and threatens
another child: "If you do that again, you will die,
just like Francis died"; at which the poor mother
death, much the same as being gone, and ceasing to
annoy the survivors. The child does not distinguish
the means by which this absence is brought about,
whether by distance, or estrangement, or death.[46]
If, during the child's prehistoric years, a nurse has
been dismissed, and if his mother dies a little while
later, the two experiences, as we discover by
analysis, form links of a chain in his memory. The
fact that the child does not very intensely miss those
in all those restraints which would prevent it from
clothing this wish in the form of a death-wish; and
the psychic reaction to dreams of a death-wish
proves that, in spite of all the differences of content,
the wish in the case of the child is after all identical
with the corresponding wish in an adult.
If, then, the death-wish of a child in respect
of his brothers and sisters is explained by his
childish egoism, which makes him regard his
happens in a great majority of cases is so evident
that it requires explanation by some factor of
general significance.[47] Broadly speaking, it is as
though a sexual preference made itself felt at an
early age, as though the boy regarded his father,
and the girl her mother, as a rival in love- by whose
removal he or she could but profit.
Before rejecting this idea as monstrous, let
the reader again consider the actual relations
permit ourselves to perceive that the greater part of
humanity neglects to obey the fifth commandment.
In the lowest as well as in the highest strata of
human society, filial piety towards parents is wont to
recede before other interests. The obscure legends
which have been handed down to us from the
primeval ages of human society in mythology and
folklore give a deplorable idea of the despotic power
of the father, and the ruthlessness with which it was
denying him the means of becoming so. A physician
often has occasion to remark that a son's grief at
the loss of his father cannot quench his gratification
that he has at last obtained his freedom. Fathers, as
a rule, cling desperately to as much of the sadly
antiquated potestas patris familias[49] as still
survives in our modern society, and the poet who,
like Ibsen, puts the immemorial strife between
father and son in the foreground of his drama is sure
discussion to look for the origin of a death-wish in
the earliest years of childhood.
In the case of psychoneurotics, analysis
confirms this conjecture beyond all doubt. For
analysis tells us that the sexual wishes of the child-
in so far as they deserve this designation in their
nascent state- awaken at a very early age, and that
the earliest affection of the girl-child is lavished on
the father, while the earliest infantile desires of the
boy are directed upon the mother. For the boy the
father, and for the girl the mother, becomes an
resistance to the parent who opposes it. To find love
in an adult is for the child not merely the satisfaction
of a special need; it means also that the child's will
is indulged in all other respects. Thus the child is
obeying its own sexual instinct, and at the same
time reinforcing the stimulus proceeding from the
parents, when its choice between the parents
corresponds with their own.
The signs of these infantile tendencies are
wife." Nor does this wish by any means exclude the
possibility that the child may most tenderly love its
mother. If the little boy is allowed to sleep at his
mother's side whenever his father goes on a
journey, and if after his father's return he has to go
back to the nursery, to a person whom he likes far
less, the wish may readily arise that his father might
always be absent, so that he might keep his place
beside his dear, beautiful mamma; and the father's
One day I find a lady depressed and weeping. She
says: "I do not want to see my relatives any more;
they must shudder at me." Thereupon, almost
without any transition, she tells me that she has
remembered a dream, whose significance, of course,
she does not understand. She dreamed it when she
was four years old, and it was this: A fox or a lynx is
walking about the roof; then something falls down,
or she falls down, and after that, her mother is
I once had occasion to make a thorough
study of a young girl who was passing through
various psychic states. In the state of frenzied
confusion with which her illness began, the patient
manifested a quite peculiar aversion for her mother;
she struck her and abused her whenever she
approached the bed, while at the same period she
was affectionate and submissive to a much older
sister. Then there followed a lucid but rather
the time, she had then to hurry home in order to
convince herself that her mother was still alive. Now
this case, considered in conjunction with the rest of
my experience. was very instructive; it showed, in
polyglot translations, as it were, the different ways
in which the psychic apparatus reacts to the same
exciting idea. In the state of confusion, which I
regard as an overthrow of the second psychic
instance by the first instance, at other times
hysterical girls are so often extravagantly attached
to their mothers.
On another occasion I had an opportunity of
obtaining a profound insight into the unconscious
psychic life of a young man for whom an obsessional
neurosis made life almost unendurable, so that he
could not go into the streets, because he was
tormented by the fear that he would kill everyone he
met. He spent his days in contriving evidence of an
was in his thirty-first year, the obsessive reproach
made its appearance, which transferred itself to
strangers in the form of this phobia. Anyone capable
of wishing to push his own father from a mountain-
top into an abyss cannot be trusted to spare the
lives of persons less closely related to him; he
therefore does well to lock himself into his room.
According to my already extensive
experience, parents play a leading part in the
normal children- that in their amorous or hostile
attitude toward their parents, psychoneurotics do no
more than reveal to us, by magnification, something
that occurs less markedly and intensively in the
minds of the majority of children. Antiquity has
furnished us with legendary matter which
corroborates this belief, and the profound and
universal validity of the old legends is explicable
only by an equally universal validity of the above-
from his supposed home he meets King Laius, and in
a sudden quarrel strikes him dead. He comes to
Thebes, where he solves the riddle of the Sphinx,
who is barring the way to the city, whereupon he is
elected king by the grateful Thebans, and is
rewarded with the hand of Jocasta. He reigns for
many years in peace and honour, and begets two
sons and two daughters upon his unknown mother,
until at last a plague breaks out- which causes the
Laius, and that he is the son of the murdered man
and Jocasta. Shocked by the abominable crime
which he has unwittingly committed, Oedipus blinds
himself, and departs from his native city. The
prophecy of the oracle has been fulfilled.
The Oedipus Rex is a tragedy of fate; its
tragic effect depends on the conflict between the all-
powerful will of the gods and the vain efforts of
human beings threatened with disaster; resignation
moved the contemporary Greeks, the only possible
explanation is that the effect of the Greek tragedy
does not depend upon the conflict between fate and
human will, but upon the peculiar nature of the
material by which this conflict is revealed. There
must be a voice within us which is prepared to
acknowledge the compelling power of fate in the
Oedipus, while we are able to condemn the
situations occurring in Die Ahnfrau or other
fulfilment- the fulfilment of the wish of our
childhood. But we, more fortunate than he, in so far
as we have not become psychoneurotics, have since
our childhood succeeded in withdrawing our sexual
impulses from our mothers, and in forgetting our
jealousy of our fathers. We recoil from the person
for whom this primitive wish of our childhood has
been fulfilled with all the force of the repression
which these wishes have undergone in our minds
departs:
power,
Whose fortune all the townsmen praised and
envied;
See in what dread adversity he sank!
-this admonition touches us and our own
pride, we who, since the years of our childhood,
have grown so wise and so powerful in our own
estimation. Like Oedipus, we live in ignorance of the
desires that offend morality, the desires that nature
has forced upon us and after their unveiling we may
well prefer to avert our gaze from the scenes of our
childhood.[50]
In the very text of Sophocles' tragedy there
heed To suchlike matters bears the easier life. -
The dream of having sexual intercourse with
one's mother was as common then as it is today
with many people, who tell it with indignation and
astonishment. As may well be imagined, it is the key
to the tragedy and the complement to the dream of
the death of the father. The Oedipus fable is the
reaction of phantasy to these two typical dreams,
and just as such a dream, when occurring to an
Oedipus Rex. But the whole difference in the psychic
life of the two widely separated periods of
civilization, and the progress, during the course of
time, of repression in the emotional life of humanity,
is manifested in the differing treatment of the same
material. In Oedipus Rex the basic wish-phantasy of
the child is brought to light and realized as it is in
dreams; in Hamlet it remains repressed, and we
learn of its existence- as we discover the relevant
was first responsible. Hamlet represents the type of
man whose active energy is paralyzed by excessive
intellectual activity: "Sicklied o'er with the pale cast
of thought." According to another conception. the
poet has endeavoured to portray a morbid,
irresolute character, on the verge of neurasthenia.
The plot of the drama, however, shows us that
Hamlet is by no means intended to appear as a
character wholly incapable of action. On two
which his father's ghost has laid upon him? Here the
explanation offers itself that it is the peculiar nature
father and has taken his father's place with his
mother- the man who shows him in realization the
repressed desires of his own childhood. The loathing
which should have driven him to revenge is thus
replaced by self-reproach, by conscientious scruples,
which tell him that he himself is no better than the
murderer whom he is required to punish. I have
here translated into consciousness what had to
remain unconscious in the mind of the hero; if
was composed immediately after the death of
Shakespeare's father (1601)- that is to say, when he
was still mourning his loss, and during a revival, as
we may fairly assume, of his own childish feelings in
respect of his father. It is known, too, that
Shakespeare's son, who died in childhood, bore the
name of Hamnet (identical with Hamlet). Just as
Hamlet treats of the relation of the son to his
parents, so Macbeth, which was written about the
With regard to typical dreams of the death
of relatives, I must add a few words upon their
significance from the point of view of the theory of
dreams in general. These dreams show us the
occurrence of a very unusual state of things; they
show us that the dream-thought created by the
repressed wish completely escapes the censorship,
and is transferred to the dream without alteration.
Special conditions must obtain in order to make this
the dream otherwise than by taking advantage of
the corresponding wish; but the wish is able to mask
itself behind the concern which has been aroused
during the day. If one is inclined to think that all this
is really a very much simpler process, and to
imagine that one merely continues during the night,
and in one's dream, what was begun during the day,
one removes the dreams of the death of those dear
to us out of all connection with the general
facilitated when the actual sensation of anxiety is
already present from somatic sources. It thus
becomes obvious for what purpose the censorship
performs its office and practises dream-distortion; it
does so in order to prevent the development of
anxiety or other forms of painful affect.
I have spoken in the foregoing sections of
the egoism of the child's psyche, and I now
emphasize this peculiarity in order to suggest a
I.
A boy not yet four years of age relates the
following dream: He saw a large garnished dish, on
which was a large joint of roast meat; and the joint
was suddenly- not carved- but eaten up. He did not
see the person who ate it.[53]
Who can he be, this strange person, of
whose luxurious repast the little fellow dreams? The
experience of the day must supply the answer. For
some days past the boy, in accordance with the
doctor's orders, had been living on a milk diet; but
forbidden him, he does not dare, as hungry children
do in dreams (cf. my little Anna's dream about
strawberries, chapter III), to sit down to the meal
himself. The person remains anonymous.
II.
One night I
dream that I see on a
bookseller's counter a new volume of one of those
collectors' series, which I am in the habit of buying
(monographs on artistic subjects, history, famous
III.
On another occasion I dream that a
university lecturer of my acquaintance says to me:
"My son, the myopic." Then follows a dialogue of
brief observations and replies. A third portion of the
dream follows, in which I and my sons appear, and
so far as the latent dream-content is concerned, the
father, the son, and Professor M, are merely lay
figures, representing myself and my eldest son.
IV.
he has watched for years over the health of my
children, has treated them successfully when they
have been ill, and, moreover, has given them
presents whenever he could find any excuse for
doing so. He paid us a visit on the day of the dream,
and my wife noticed that he looked tired and
exhausted. At night I dream of him, and my dream
attributes to him certain of the symptoms of
Basedow's disease. If you were to disregard my
an incident which had occurred six years earlier. We
were driving- a small party of us, including Professor
R- in the dark through the forest of N, which lies at
a distance of some hours from where we were
staying in the country. The driver, who was not
quite sober, overthrew us and the carriage down a
bank, and it was only by good fortune that we all
escaped unhurt. But we were forced to spend the
night at the nearest inn, where the news of our
but also of a famous pedagogue. (Now that I am
wide awake, I do not feel quite sure of this fact.) My
friend Otto is the person whom I have asked to take
charge of the physical education of my children-
especially during the age of puberty (hence the
nightshirt) in case anything should happen to me.
By seeing Otto in my dream with the morbid
symptoms of our above-mentioned generous helper,
I clearly mean to say: "If anything happens to me,
enough.[54] -
In justice to this lady with her national pride
another person, if they exist in the unconscious,
may occur in dreams. The truth of the assertion is
therefore restricted to the fact that among the
unconscious stimuli of dreams one very often finds
egoistical tendencies which seem to have been
overcome in the waking state.
But where is the wish-fulfilment to be found
in this? Not in the vengeance wreaked on my friend
Otto (who seems to be fated to be badly treated in
means that I shall live long enough to steer my boys
through the age of puberty myself.
Of other typical dreams, in which one flies
with a feeling of ease or falls in terror, I know
nothing from my own experience, and whatever I
have to say about them I owe to my
psychoanalyses. From the information thus obtained
one must conclude that these dreams also reproduce
impressions made in childhood- that is, that they
sensations in dreams. but in dreams they omit the
hands that held them, so that now they are free to
float or fall. We know that all small children have a
fondness for such games as rocking and see-sawing;
and if they see gymnastic performances at the circus
their recollection of such games is refreshed.[55] In
some boys a hysterical attack will consist simply in
the reproduction of such performances, which they
accomplish with great dexterity. Not infrequently
sensations during sleep, the sensation of the
movements of the lungs, etc., that evokes dreams
of flying and falling. I see that these very sensations
have been reproduced from the memory to which
the dream refers- and that they are, therefore,
dream-content and not dream-sources.
I do not for a moment deny, however, that I
am unable to furnish a full explanation of this series
of typical dreams. Precisely here my material leaves
typical appearance of these dreams- and I should
very much like to be in a position to fill this gap with
careful analyses of good examples. To those who
wonder why I complain of a lack of material, despite
the frequency of these dreams of flying, falling,
tooth-drawing, etc., I must explain that I myself
have never experienced any such dreams since I
have turned my attention to the subject of dream-
interpretation. The dreams of neurotics which are at
must go through his course again, etc. For the
holder of a university degree this typical dream is
replaced by another, which represents that he has
not taken his doctor's degree, to which he vainly
objects, while still asleep, that he has already been
practising for years, or is already a university
lecturer or the senior partner of a firm of lawyers,
and so on. These are the ineradicable memories of
the punishments we suffered as children for
occasions?- whenever we fear that we may be
punished by some unpleasant result because we
have done something carelessly or wrongly, because
we have not been as thorough as we might have
been- in short, whenever we feel the burden of
responsibility.
For a further explanation of examination-
dreams I have to thank a remark made by a
colleague who had studied this subject, who once
example of the way in which the dream-content is
misunderstood by the waking instance. The
exclamation which is regarded as a protest against
the dream: "But I am already a doctor," etc., would
in reality be the consolation offered by the dream,
and should, therefore, be worded as follows: "Do not
be afraid of the morrow; think of the anxiety which
you felt before your matriculation; yet nothing
happened to justify it, for now you are a doctor,"
day.
justified anxiety, but escaped disaster, through the
clemency of fate, or of the examiner. In my dreams
of school examinations, I am always examined in
history, a subject in which I passed brilliantly at the
time, but only, I must admit, because my good-
natured professor- my one-eyed benefactor in
another dream- did not overlook the fact that on the
examination-paper which I returned to him I had
crossed out with my fingernail the second of three
Footnotes
[32] I would advise everyone to read the
exact and detailed records (collected in two
volumes) of the dreams experimentally produced by
Mourly Vold in order to convince himself how little
the conditions of the experiments help to explain the
content of the individual dream, and how little such
experiments help us towards an understanding of
not at our disposal the dreamer's association-
material must be qualified. In one case our work of
interpretation is independent of these associations:
namely, when the dreamer make use of symbolic
elements in his dream. We then employ what is,
strictly speaking, a second auxiliary method of
dream-interpretation. (See below).
[36] The child appears in the fairy-tale also,
for there a little child suddenly cries out: "But he
(to haunt) is the occupation of spirits (cf. English,
"spook"), led me by a free translation to espirit
d'escalier. "Stairwit" means unreadiness at repartee,
(Schlagfertigkeit = literally: "readiness to hit out")
with which I really have to reproach myself. But was
the nurse deficient in Schlagfertigkeit?
[40] Cf. also "Analysis of a Phobia in a Five-
year-old Boy," Collected Papers, III; and "On the
Sexual Theories of Children," Ibid., II.
[42] Such cases of death in the experience
of children may soon be forgotten in the family, but
psycho-analytical investigation shows that they are
very significant for a later neurosis.
[43] Since the above was written, a great
many observations relating to the originally hostile
attitude of children toward their brothers and
sisters, and toward one of their parents, have been
recorded in the literature of psycho-analysis. One
opposite me, and took up half the room, so that we
could not help kicking one another."
[44] The three-and-a-half-year-old Hans
embodied his devastating criticism of his little sister
in these identical words (loc. cit.). He assumed that
she was unable to speak on account of her lack of
teeth.
[45] To my astonishment, I was told that a
highly intelligent boy of ten, after the sudden death
annoyance. "Josephine ought to be dead," she
thereupon remarked to her father. "But why dead?"
asked the father, soothingly. "Wouldn't it be enough
if she went away?" "No," replied the child, "then she
would come back again." To the uncurbed self-love
(narcissism) of the child, every inconvenience
constitutes the crime of lese majeste, and, as in the
Draconian code, the child's feelings prescribe for all
such crimes the one invariable punishment.
[49] Authority of the father.
[50] None of the discoveries of psycho-
analytical research has evoked such embittered
contradiction, such furious opposition, and also such
entertaining acrobatics of criticism, as this indication
of the incestuous impulses of childhood which
survive in the unconscious. An attempt has even
been made recently, in defiance of all experience, to
assign only a symbolic significance to incest.
and Taboo. -
[52] These indications in the direction of an
analytical understanding of Hamlet were
subsequently developed by Dr. Ernest Jones, who
defended the above conception against others which
have been put forward in the literature of the
subject (The Problem of Hamlet and the Oedipus
Complex, [1911]). The relation of the material of
Hamlet to the myth of the birth of the hero has been
demonstrated by O. Rank. Further attempts at an
child is hard to satisfy; he knows no such word as
enough and insatiably demands the repetition of
whatever has pleased him or tasted good to him. He
learns to practise moderation, to be modest and
resigned, only through training. As we know, the
neurotic also is inclined to immoderation and excess.
[54] While Dr. Ernest Jones was delivering a
lecture before an American scientific society, and
was speaking of egoism in dreams, a learned lady
strictly altruistic.
[55] Psycho-analytic investigation has
enabled us to conclude that in the predilection
a memory-picture of sexual intercourse observed in
human beings or animals.
[56] A young colleague, who is entirely free
from nervousness, tells me, in this connection: "I
know from my own experience that while swinging,
and at the moment at which the downward
movement was at its maximum, I used to have a
curious feeling in my genitals, which, although it was
not really pleasing to me, I must describe as a
CHAPTER 6 (Part 1)
THE DREAM-WORK
All other previous attempts to solve the
problems of dreams have concerned themselves
directly with the manifest dream-content as it is
retained in the memory. They have sought to obtain
an interpretation of the dream from this content, or,
if they dispensed with an interpretation, to base
their conclusions concerning the dream on the
evidence provided by this content. We, however, are
confronted by a different set of data; for us a new
The dream-thoughts and the dream-content
present themselves as two descriptions of the same
content in two different languages; or, to put it
more clearly, the dream-content appears to us as a
translation of the dream-thoughts into another mode
of expression, whose symbols and laws of
composition we must learn by comparing the origin
with the translation. The dream-thoughts we can
understand without further trouble the moment we
boat is out of place on the roof of a house, and a
headless man cannot run; the man, too, is larger
than the house, and if the whole thing is meant to
represent a landscape the single letters have no
right in it, since they do not occur in nature. A
correct judgment of the picture-puzzle is possible
only if I make no such objections to the whole and
its parts, and if, on the contrary, I take the trouble
to replace each image by a syllable or word which it
worthless.
A. Condensation
The first thing that becomes clear to the
investigator when he compares the dream-content
with the dream-thoughts is that a tremendous work
of condensation has been accomplished. The dream
is meagre, paltry and laconic in comparison with the
range and copiousness of the dream-thoughts. The
dream, when written down fills half a page; the
analysis, which contains the dream- thoughts,
requires six, eight, twelve times as much space. The
ratio varies with different dreams; but in my
manifested by the same dream. Thus the degree of
condensation is- strictly speaking- indeterminable.
Exception may be taken- and at first sight the
objection seems perfectly plausible- to the assertion
that the disproportion between dream- content and
dream-thoughts justifies the conclusion that a
considerable condensation of psychic material occurs
in the formation of dreams. For we often have the
feeling that we have been dreaming a great deal all
dreamed a good deal more than we are able to
reproduce is very often based on an illusion, the
origin of which we shall explain later on. Moreover,
the assumption of a condensation in the dream-work
is not affected by the possibility of forgetting a part
of dreams, for it may be demonstrated by the
multitude of ideas pertaining to those individual
parts of the dream which do remain in the memory.
If a large part of the dream has really escaped the
mind during analysis as forming part of the dream-
thoughts- in other words, to assume that all these
thoughts have been active in the sleeping state, and
have taken part in the formation of the dream. Is it
not more probable that new combinations of
thoughts are developed in the course of analysis,
which did not participate in the formation of the
dream? To this objection I can give only a
conditional reply. It is true, of course, that separate
in the formation of the dream, for if we work
through a succession of such thoughts, which at first
sight seem to have played no part in the formation
of the dream, we suddenly come upon a thought
which occurs in the dream-content, and is
indispensable to its interpretation, but which is
nevertheless inaccessible except through this chain
of thoughts. The reader may here turn to the dream
of the botanical monograph, which is obviously the
that the process may easily be different from that
which we observe in ourselves in deliberate
contemplation accompanied by consciousness.
The fact, however, is irrefutable that dream-
formation is based on a process of condensation.
How, then, is this condensation effected?
Now, if we consider that of the dream-
thoughts ascertained only the most restricted
number are represented in the dream by means of
In order to solve this problem, let us turn
our attention to those elements of the dream-
content which must have fulfilled the conditions for
which we are looking. The most suitable material for
this investigation will be a dream to whose formation
a particularly intense condensation has contributed.
I select the dream, cited in chapter V., of the
botanical monograph.
I.
immediately reveals its relation to the work on
cocaine which I once wrote; from cocaine the train
of thought proceeds on the one hand to a
Festschrift, and on the other to my friend, the
oculist, Dr. Koenigstein, who was partly responsible
for the introduction of cocaine as a local anaesthetic.
Moreover, Dr. Koenigstein is connected with the
recollection of an interrupted conversation I had had
with him on the previous evening, and with all sorts
Not only the combined idea of the botanical
monograph, however, but also each of its separate
elements, botanical and monograph, penetrates
farther and farther, by manifold associations, into
the confused tangle of the dream-thoughts. To
botanical belong the recollections of the person of
Professor Gartner (German: Gartner = gardener), of
his blooming wife, of my patient, whose name is
Flora, and of a lady concerning whom I told the
my favourite flower, the artichoke, with the train of
thoughts proceeding from the forgotten flowers;
behind artichoke there lies, on the one hand, a
recollection of Italy, and on the other a reminiscence
of a scene of my childhood, in which I first formed
an acquaintance- which has since then grown so
intimate- with books. Botanical, then, is a veritable
nucleus, and, for the dream, the meeting-point of
many trains of thought; which, I can testify, had all
Masterpiece:
The little shuttles to and fro
monograph were taken up into the dream- content
because they were able to offer the most numerous
points of contact with the greatest number of
dream-thoughts, and thus represented nodal points
at which a great number of the dream- thoughts
met together, and because they were of manifold
significance in respect of the meaning of the dream.
The fact upon which this explanation is based may
be expressed in another form: Every element of the
thoughts.
specimen of the plant relates to my experience with
the herbarium at the Gymnasium, and gives this
memory particular emphasis. Thus I perceive the
nature of the relation between the dream-content
and dream-thoughts: Not only are the elements of
the dream determined several times over by the
dream-thoughts, but the individual dream-thoughts
are represented in the dream by several elements.
Starting from an element of the dream, the path of
elaboration, in the course of which those elements
that receive the strongest and completest support
stand out in relief; so that the process might
perhaps be likened to election by the scrutin du
liste. Whatever dream I may subject to such a
dissection, I always find the same fundamental
principle confirmed- that the dream-elements have
been formed out of the whole mass of the dream-
thoughts, and that every one of them appears, in
II. "A Beautiful Dream"
The dreamer is driving with a great number
of companions in X- street, where there is a modest
hostelry (which is not the case). A theatrical
performance is being given in one of the rooms of
the inn. He is first spectator, then actor. Finally the
company is told to change their clothes, in order to
return to the city. Some of the company are shown
into rooms on the ground floor, others to rooms on
he is able to walk much more easily.
The difficulty experienced in climbing the hill
was so distinct that for some time after waking he
was in doubt whether the experience was a dream
or the reality.
Judged by the manifest content, this dream
can hardly be eulogized. Contrary to the rules, I
shall begin the interpretation with that portion to
which the dreamer referred as being the most
distinct.
The difficulty dreamed of, and probably
purposes of any other kind of representation. The
part of the dream-content which represents climbing
as difficult at first, and easier at the top of the hill,
made me think, while it was being related, of the
well- known masterly introduction to Daudet's
Sappho. Here a young man carries the woman he
loves upstairs; she is at first as light as a feather,
but the higher he climbs the more she weighs; and
this scene is symbolic of the process of their
heavy burden. To my astonishment, the patient
remarked that the interpretation fitted in very well
with the plot of a play which he had seen the
previous evening. The play was called Rund um
Wien (Round about Vienna), and treated of the
career of a girl who was at first respectable, but who
subsequently lapsed into the demimonde, and
formed relations with highly-placed lovers, thereby
climbing, but finally she went downhill faster and
didn't get any vermin here!" (Incidentally, the dread
of vermin is one of his phobias.) Whereupon the
cab-driver answered: "How could anybody stop
there! That isn't a hotel at all, it's really nothing but
a pub!"
The pub immediately reminded him of a
quotation:
Of a wonderful host I was lately a guest.
train of thought:
That such within my garden grow.[3]
There is not the slightest doubt what is
meant by the apple-tree and the apples. A beautiful
bosom stood high among the charms by which the
actress had bewitched our dreamer.
Judging from the context of the analysis, we
had every reason to assume that the dream referred
to an impression of the dreamer's childhood. If this
is correct, it must have referred to the wet- nurse of
that he himself was downstairs. This would have
been to obvious an expression, for in Austria we say
that a man is on the ground floor when he has lost
his fortune and social position, just as we say that
he has come down. Now the fact that at this point in
the dream something is represented as inverted
must have a meaning; and the inversion must apply
to some other relation between the dream-thoughts
and the dream- content. There is an indication which
Just as the name Sappho has not been
selected by the poet without reference to a Lesbian
practise, so the portions of the dream in which
people are busy upstairs and downstairs, above and
beneath, point to fancies of a sexual content with
which the dreamer is occupied, and which, as
suppressed cravings, are not unconnected with his
neurosis. Dream-interpretation itself does not show
that these are fancies and not memories of actual
who talks angrily of the King of Italy refers to the
intrusion of people of low rank into aristocratic
society. It is as though the warning which Daudet
gives to young men were to be supplemented by a
similar warning applicable to a suckling child.[4]
In the two dreams here cited I have shown
by italics where one of the elements of the dream
recurs in the dream-thoughts, in order to make the
multiple relations of the former more obvious. Since,
belong to her waking life, and who therefore, in the
first instance, represents herself. But her attitude,
as I examine her at the window, is taken from a
recollection of another person, of the lady for whom
I should like to exchange my patient, as is shown by
the dream-thoughts. Inasmuch as Irma has a
diphtheritic membrane, which recalls my anxiety
about my eldest daughter, she comes to represent
this child of mine, behind whom, connected with her
examined by me, and, also in the same connection,
to my wife. Further, in the morbid changes which I
discover in her throat I have summarized allusions
to quite a number of other persons.
All these people whom I encounter as I
follow up the associations suggested by Irma do not
appear personally in the dream; they are concealed
behind the dream-person Irma, who is thus
developed into a collective image, which, as might
characteristics and his malady belong to another
person, my eldest brother; a single feature,
paleness, is doubly determined, owing to the fact
that it is common to both persons. Dr. R, in my
dream about my uncle, is a similar composite
person. But here the dream-image is constructed in
yet another fashion. I have not united features
peculiar to the one person with the features of the
other, thereby abridging by certain features the
The construction of collective and composite
persons is one of the principal methods of dream-
condensation. We shall presently have occasion to
deal with this in another connection.
The notion of dysentry in the dream of
Irma's injection has likewise a multiple
determination; on the one hand, because of its
paraphasic assonance with diphtheria. and on the
other because of its reference to the patient whom I
with the word propylaeum suggests itself to me. But
a propylaeum is to be found not only in Athens, but
also in Munich. In the latter city, a year before my
dream, I had visited a friend who was seriously ill,
and the reference to him in trimethylamin, which
follows closely upon propyls, is unmistakable.
I pass over the striking circumstance that
here, as elsewhere in the analysis of dreams,
associations of the most widely differing values are
right, and to whom I am indebted for so much
valuable information concerning the chemistry of
sexual processes.
What elements in the Otto group are to
attract my particular attention are determined by
the recent circumstances which are responsible for
the dream; amyls belong to the element so
distinguished, which are predestined to find their
way into the dream-content. The large group of
into the dream-content. Amyls, too, might have got
into the dream-content unchanged, but it yields to
the influence of the William group, inasmuch as out
of the whole range of recollections covered by this
name an element is sought out which is able to
furnish a double determination for amyls. Propyls is
closely associated with amyls; from the William
group comes Munich with its propylaeum. Both
groups are united in propyls- propylaeum. As though
process of condensation which occurs in the
formation of dreams. We perceive, as peculiarities of
the condensing process, a selection of those
elements which occur several times over in the
dream-content, the formation of new unities
(composite persons, mixed images), and the
production of common means. The purpose which is
served by condensation, and the means by which it
is brought about, will be investigated when we come
deserves attention.
The condensation-work of dreams becomes
most palpable when it takes words and means as its
word-formations.
1. A colleague sent an essay of his, in which
he had, in my opinion, overestimated the value of a
recent physiological discovery, and had expressed
himself, moreover, in extravagant terms. On the
following night I dreamed a sentence which
obviously referred to this essay: "That is a truly
norekdal style." The solution of this word-formation
at first gave me some difficulty; it was
apart into the two names Nora and Ekdal, from two
well-known plays by Ibsen. I had previously read a
Analysis.- The man was rather authoritative-
looking, and his peculiar glittering eye at once
recalled the church of San Paolo, near Rome, where
she had seen the mosaic portraits of the Popes. One
of the early Popes had a golden eye (this is really an
optical illusion, to which the guides usually call
attention). Further associations showed that the
general physiognomy of the man corresponded with
her own clergyman (pope), and the shape of the fair
liqueurs. This again brings her back to her visit to
San Paolo (fuori la mura) and its surroundings. She
remembers that in the neighbouring monastery of
the Tre Fontane she drank a liqueur made of
eucalyptus by the Trappist monks of the monastery.
She then relates how the monks transformed this
malarial and swampy region into a dry and
wholesome neighbourhood by planting numbers of
eucalyptus trees. The word uclamparia then resolves
the man whom she would have married but for his
over-indulgence in alcohol. The peculiar name of Dry
neurosis, which was at first diagnosed as malaria.
She went to Italy because her attacks of anxiety,
which were accompanied by marked rigors and
shivering, were thought to be of malarial origin. She
bought some eucalyptus oil from the monks, and
she maintains that it has done her much good.
The condensation uclamparia- wet is,
therefore, the point of junction for the dream as well
as for the neurosis.
indifferent dream-stimulus of the day- a poem in
Fliegende Blatter about a slanderous dwarf, Sagter
Hatergesagt (Saidhe Hashesaid). By the combination
of the final syllable ing with the name Fliess,
Vlissingen is obtained, which is a real port through
which my brother passes when he comes to visit us
from England. But the English for Vlissingen is
Flushing, which signifies blushing, and recalls
patients suffering from erythrophobia (fear of
just as you suspected." So not only must the newly-
coined Autodidasker satisfy the requirement that it
should contain or represent a compressed meaning,
but this meaning must have a valid connection with
my resolve- repeated from waking life- to give
Professor N due credit for his diagnosis.
Now Autodidasker is easily separated into
author (German, Autor), autodidact, and Lasker,
with whom is associated the name Lasalle. The first
our children, and I comforted her with the remark
that precisely such dangers as she feared can be
averted by training. During the night my thoughts
proceeded farther, took up my wife's concern for the
children, and interwove with it all sorts of other
things. Something which the novelist had said to my
brother on the subject of marriage showed my
thoughts a by-path which might lead to
representation in the dream. This path led to
contributed to send my thoughts on a detour by way
of Breslau.
But the playing with names and syllables in
which I am here engaged has yet another meaning.
It represents the wish that my brother may enjoy a
happy family life, and this in the following manner:
In the novel of artistic life, L'OEuvre, which, by
virtue of its content, must have been in association
with my dream- thoughts, the author, as is well-
My phantasy- that I am telling Professor N
that the patient whom we have both seen is
suffering from a neurosis- found its way into the
dream in the following manner: Shortly before the
close of my working year, I had a patient in whose
case my powers of diagnosis failed me. A serious
organic trouble- possibly some alterative
degeneration of the spinal cord- was to be assumed,
but could not be conclusively demonstrated. It would
concerning the aetiology of the neuroses, I refrained
from contradicting him, but I did not conceal my
scepticism. A few days later I informed the patient
that I did not know what to do with him, and
advised him to go to someone else. Thereupon, to
my great astonishment, he began to beg my pardon
for having lied to me: he had felt so ashamed; and
now he revealed to me just that piece of sexual
aetiology which I had expected, and which I found
dream-thoughts, may prove to be mistaken. The
subject to which the fact of being right or wrong is
related in the dream is not far removed from that
which is really of interest to the dream- thoughts.
We have the same pair of alternatives, of either
organic or functional impairment caused by a
woman, or actually by the sexual life- either tabetic
paralysis or a neurosis- with which latter the nature
of Lasalle's undoing is indirectly connected.
boys?"- "Three of each. They are my pride and my
riches."- "Well, you must be careful; there is no
difficulty about the girls, but the boys are a difficulty
later on as regards their upbringing." I replied that
until now they had been very tractable; obviously
this prognosis of my boys' future pleased me as little
as his diagnosis of my patient, whom he believed to
be suffering only from a neurosis. These two
impressions, then, are connected by their continuity,
serves without alteration to represent both the
conflicting alternatives.
Examination-dreams present the same
difficulties to interpretation that I have already
described as characteristic of most typical dreams.
The associative material which the dreamer supplies
only rarely suffices for interpretation. A deeper
understanding of such dreams has to be
accumulated from a considerable number of
The verbal transformations in dreams are
very similar to those which are known to occur in
paranoia, and which are observed also in hysteria
and obsessions. The linguistic tricks of children, who
at a certain age actually treat words as objects, and
even invent new languages and artificial syntaxes,
are a common source of such occurrences both in
dreams and in the psychoneuroses.
The analysis of nonsensical word-formations
When a spoken utterance, expressly
distinguished as such from a thought, occurs in a
dream, it is an invariable rule that the dream-speech
has originated from a remembered speech in the
dream- material. The wording of the speech has
either been preserved in its entirety or has been
slightly altered in expression. frequently the dream-
speech is pieced together from different recollections
of spoken remarks; the wording has remained the
by any means play this same part in the dream-
thoughts. As a corollary to this, the converse of this
statement is also true. That which is obviously the
essential content of the dream-thoughts need not be
represented at all in the dream. The dream is, as it
were, centred elsewhere; its content is arranged
about elements which do not constitute the central
point of the dream-thoughts. Thus, for example, in
the dream of the botanical monograph the central
is made the central point; the dream, however, is
concerned with the danger of sexual relations with
persons of low degree; so that only one of the
elements of the dream-thoughts seems to have
found its way into the dream-content, and this is
unduly expanded. Again, in the dream of my uncle,
the fair beard, which seems to be its central point,
appears to have no rational connection with the
desire for greatness which we have recognized as
particular emphasis in our consciousness, we are
wont to regard this as proof that a peculiar psychic
value (a certain degree of interest) attaches to the
victorious idea. We now discover that this value of
the individual element in the dream- thoughts is not
retained in dream-formation, or is not taken into
account. For there is no doubt which of the elements
of the dream- thoughts are of the highest value; our
judgment informs us immediately. In dream-
understanding of dream-formation is not much
advanced by this assumption; to begin with, we
cannot believe that the two motives of multiple
determination and intrinsic value can influence the
selection of the dream otherwise than in the same
direction. Those ideas in the dream-thoughts which
are most important are probably also those which
recur most frequently, since the individual dream-
thoughts radiate from them as centres. And yet the
extensively reinforced.
This difficulty may be solved if we follow up
the dream-elements, and register all the ideas which
associate themselves with these elements, is it any
wonder that these elements should recur with
peculiar frequency in the thought-material obtained
in this manner? While I cannot admit the validity of
this objection, I am now going to say something that
sounds rather like it: Among the thoughts which
analysis brings to light are many which are far
removed from the nucleus of the dream, and which
dream- formation, but is often a secondary product
of a psychic force which is as yet unknown to us.
Nevertheless, it must be of importance for the
entrance of the individual elements into the dream,
for we may observe that, in cases where multiple
determination does not proceed easily from the
dream-material, it is brought about with a certain
effort.
It now becomes very probable that a psychic
process which we here assume to be operative is
actually the most essential part of the dream-work;
it may fitly be called dream-displacement. Dream-
displacement and dream- condensation are the two
craftsmen to whom we may chiefly ascribe the
structure of the dream.
I think it will be easy to recognize the
psychic force which expresses itself in dream-
displacement. The result of this displacement is that
"Concerning a man who possesses the
remarkable faculty of never dreaming nonsense...."
"Your marvellous faculty of dreaming as if
you were awake is based upon your virtues, upon
your goodness, your justice, and your love of truth;
it is the moral clarity of your nature which makes
everything about you intelligible to me."
"But if I really give thought to the matter,"
was the reply, "I almost believe that all men are
pregnant creations of fantasy, of which only a foolish
person would say: 'That is nonsense! For it isn't
possible.'"
"If only it were always possible to interpret
dreams correctly, as you have just done with mine!"
said the friend.
"That is certainly not an easy task, but with
a little attention it must always be possible to the
dreamer. You ask why it is generally impossible? In
or dreams."
interact with one another in dream-formation- which
is the ruling factor and which the subordinate one-
all this will be reserved as a subject for later
investigation. In the meantime, we may state, is a
second condition which the elements that find their
way into the dream must satisfy, that they must be
withdrawn from the resistance of the censorship. But
henceforth, in the interpretation of dreams, we shall
reckon with dream-displacement as an
unquestionable fact.
take a preliminary glance at the processes by which
the interpretation of dreams is accomplished. I do
not deny that the best way of explaining them, and
of convincing the critic of their reliability, would be
to take a single dream as an example, to detail its
interpretation, as I did (in Chapter II) in the case of
the dream of Irma's injection, but then to assemble
the dream-thoughts which I had discovered, and
from them to reconstruct the formation of the
of complete. I could give a complete synthesis only
of the dreams of such persons as are unknown to
the reading public. Since, however, neurotic patients
are the only persons who furnish me with the means
of making such a synthesis, this part of the
description of dreams must be postponed until I can
carry the psychological explanation of the neuroses
far enough to demonstrate their relation to our
subject.[12] This will be done elsewhere.
have occurred subsequently to the dream, between
the dream and the interpretation. This part
comprises not only all the connecting- paths which
have led from the manifest to the latent dream-
content, but also the intermediate and
approximating associations by means of which one
has arrived at a knowledge of these connecting-
paths during the work of interpretation.
At this point we are interested exclusively in
The individual parts of this complicated
structure naturally stand in the most manifold logical
relations to one another. They constitute foreground
and background, digressions, illustrations,
conditions, lines of argument and objections. When
the whole mass of these dream-thoughts is
subjected to the pressure of the dream- work,
during which the fragments are turned about,
broken up and compacted, somewhat like drifting
interpretation of the dream to restore the coherence
which the dream-work has destroyed.
If dreams lack the ability to express these
relations, the psychic material of which they are
wrought must be responsible for this defect. As a
matter of fact, the representative arts- painting and
sculpture- are similarly restricted, as compared with
poetry, which is able to employ speech; and here
again the reason for this limitation lies in the
intellectual operations take place; arguments for and
against are adduced, jokes and comparisons are
made, just as in our waking thoughts. But here
again appearances are deceptive; if the
interpretation of such dreams is continued it will be
found that all these things are dream-material, not
the representation of intellectual activity in the
dream. The content of the dream- thoughts is
reproduced by the apparent thinking in our dreams,
However, I shall not dispute the fact that
even critical thought- activity, which does not simply
repeat material from the dream- thoughts, plays a
part in dream-formation. I shall have to explain the
influence of this factor at the close of this discussion.
It will then become clear that this thought activity is
evoked not by the dream-thoughts, but by the
dream itself, after it is, in a certain sense, already
completed.
at least the intentions behind their words-
tenderness, menace, admonition, and the like- by
other means than by floating labels, so also the
dream has found it possible to render an account of
certain of the logical relations between its dream-
thoughts by an appropriate modification of the
peculiar method of dream-representation. It will be
found by experience that different dreams go to
different lengths in this respect; while one dream
injection).
the dream-material which are difficult to represent?
I shall attempt to enumerate these, one by one.
In the first place, the dream renders an
account of the connection which is undeniably
present between all the portions of the dream-
thoughts by combining this material into a unity as a
situation or a proceeding. It reproduces logical
connections in the form of simultaneity; in this case
it behaves rather like the painter who groups
with o following a blank space indicates that t is the
last letter of one word and o the first letter of
another. Consequently, dream-combinations are not
made up of arbitrary, completely incongruous
elements of the dream-material, but of elements
that are pretty intimately related in the dream-
thoughts also.
For representing causal relations our dreams
employ two methods, which are essentially reducible
An excellent example of such a
representation of causality was once provided by a
female patient, whose dream I shall subsequently
give in full. The dream consisted of a short prologue,
and of a very circumstantial and very definitely
centred dream-composition. I might entitle it
"Flowery language." The preliminary dream is as
follows: She goes to the two maids in the kitchen
and scolds them for taking so long to prepare "a
are words which she has probably often heard
spoken by her mother. The piles of clumsy pots and
pans are taken from an unpretentious hardware
shop located in the same house. The second part of
this dream contains an allusion to the dreamer's
father, who was always pestering the maids, and
who during a flood- for the house stood close to the
bank of the river- contracted a fatal illness. The
thought which is concealed behind the preliminary
dreams the same material were presented from
different points of view; this is certainly the case
when a series of dreams, dreamed the same night,
end in a seminal emission, the somatic need
enforcing a more and more definite expression. Or
the two dreams have proceeded from two separate
centres in the dream-material, and they overlap one
another in the content, so that the subject which in
one dream constitutes the centre cooperates in the
that both methods of representing the causal
relation are really reducible to the same method; in
both cases causation is represented by succession,
sometimes by the succession of dreams, sometimes
by the immediate transformation of one image into
another. In the great majority of cases, of course,
the causal relation is not represented at all, but is
effaced amidst the succession of elements that is
unavoidable even in the dream-process.
dream, however, carries out all these possibilities,
which are almost mutually exclusive, and is quite
ready to add a fourth solution derived from the
dream-wish. After interpreting the dream, I then
inserted the either- or in its context in the dream-
thoughts.
But when in narrating a dream the narrator
is inclined to employ the alternative either- or: "It
was either a garden or a living- room," etc., there is
or villa; the second is distinctly Sezerno, or even
(Casa). The second word, which reminds me of
Italian names, and of our discussions on etymology,
also expresses my annoyance in respect of the fact
that my friend has kept his address a secret from
me; but each of the possible first three words may
be recognized on analysis as an independent and
equally justifiable starting-point in the concatenation
of ideas.
Each of the two versions has its special
meaning, and leads along particular paths in the
dream-interpretation. I had made the simplest
possible funeral arrangements, for I knew what the
deceased thought about such matters. Other
members of the family, however, did not approve of
such puritanical simplicity; they thought we should
feel ashamed in the presence of the other mourners.
Hence one of the wordings of the dream asks for the
the dream finds it so difficult to present.
The attitude of dreams to the category of
antithesis and contradiction is very striking. This
category is simply ignored; the word No does not
seem to exist for a dream. Dreams are particularly
fond of reducing antitheses to uniformity. or
representing them as one and the same thing.
Dreams likewise take the liberty of representing any
element whatever by its desired opposite, so that it
the streets are decorated with green boughs, the
blossoming bough in the dream is quite clearly an
allusion to sexual innocence. But the bough is thickly
studded with red blossoms, each of which resembles
a camellia. At the end of her walk (so the dream
continues) the blossoms are already beginning to
fall; then follow unmistakable allusions to
menstruation. But this very bough, which is carried
like a lily-stem and as though by an innocent girl, is
dream we may clearly distinguish the two trains of
thought, of which the comforting one seems to be
superficial, and the reproachful one more profound.
The two are diametrically opposed to each other,
and their similar yet contrasting elements have been
represented by identical dream-elements.
The mechanism of dream-formation is
favourable in the highest degree to only one of the
logical relations. This relation is that of similarity,
Similarity, agreement, community, are quite
generally expressed in dreams by contraction into a
unity, which is either already found in the dream-
material or is newly created. The first case may be
referred to as identification, the second as
composition. Identification is used where the dream
is concerned with persons, composition where things
constitute the material to be unified; but
compositions are also made of persons. Localities
of, but not common to, the persons in question, so
that a new unity, a composite person, appears as
the result of the union of these features. The
combination itself may be effected in various ways.
Either the dream-person bears the name of one of
the persons to whom he refers- and in this case we
simply know, in a manner that is quite analogous to
knowledge in waking life, that this or that person is
intended- while the visual features belong to another
are then attributed to one person, and the other- as
a rule the more important- is introduced as an
inactive spectator. Perhaps the dreamer will say:
"My mother was there too" (Stekel). Such an
element of the dream-content is then comparable to
a determinative in hieroglyphic script which is not
meant to be expressed, but is intended only to
explain another sign.
The common feature which justifies the
B justifies my inserting that which is common to
both persons- their hostility towards me- at the
proper place in the dream- interpretation. In this
manner I often achieve a quite extraordinary degree
of condensation of the dream-content; I am able to
dispense with the direct representation of the very
complicated relations belonging to one person, if I
can find a second person who has an equal claim to
some of these relations. It will be readily understood
This person, the result of combination or
identification, being free of the censorship, is now
suitable for incorporation in the dream-content.
Thus, by the application of dream-condensation, I
have satisfied the demands of the dream-
censorship.
When a common feature of two persons is
represented in a dream, this is usually a hint to look
for another concealed common feature, the
representing a displaced common feature; and,
thirdly, that of expressly a community of features
which is merely wished for. As the wish for a
community of features in two persons often
coincides with the interchanging of these persons,
this relation also is expressed in dreams by
identification. In the dream of Irma's injection I wish
to exchange one patient for another- that is to say, I
wish this other person to be my patient, as the
occurs in the dream-content, I may safely assume
that by means of identification my ego is concealed
behind that person. I am permitted to supplement
my ego. On other occasions, when my ego appears
in the dream, the situation in which it is placed tells
me that another person is concealing himself, by
means of identification, behind the ego. In this case
I must be prepared to find that in the interpretation
I should transfer something which is connected with
That one's ego should appear in the same dream
several times or in different forms is fundamentally
no more surprising than that it should appear, in
conscious thinking, many times and in different
places or in different relations: as, for example, in
the sentence: "When I think what a healthy child I
was."
Still easier than in the case of persons is the
resolution of identifications in the case of localities
Rome with Prague is therefore explained by a
desired common feature; I would rather meet my
friend in Rome than in Prague; for the purpose of
this meeting I should like to exchange Prague for
Rome.
The possibility of creating composite
formations is one of the chief causes of the fantastic
character so common in dreams. in that it
introduces into the dream-content elements which
most artless of these methods, only the properties
of the one thing are represented, and this
representation is accompanied by a knowledge that
they refer to another object also. A more careful
technique combines features of the one object with
those of the other in a new image, while it makes
skillful use of any really existing resemblances
between the two objects. The new creation may
prove to be wholly absurd, or even successful as a
form to a unified abstraction of disparate perceptual
images.
Dreams naturally abound in such composite
formations; I have given several examples of these
in the dreams already analysed, and will now cite
more such examples. In the dream earlier in this
chapter which describes the career of my patient in
flowery language, the dream-ego carries a spray of
blossoms in her hand which, as we have seen,
with a camellia-tree in her later years; the exotic
character is an allusion to a much- travelled
naturalist, who sought to win her favour by means
of a drawing of a flower. Another female patient
contrives a composite mean out of bathing machines
at a seaside resort, country privies, and the attics of
our city dwelling-houses. A reference to human
nakedness and exposure is common to the first two
elements; and we may infer from their connection
black spots, have here combined with the beads of
caviar to form a new idea- the idea of what she gets
from her brother. In this dream parts of the human
body are treated as objects, as is usually the case in
dreams. In one of the dreams recorded by Ferenczi
there occurs a composite formation made up of the
person of a physician and a horse, and this
composite being wears a night-shirt. The common
feature in these three components was revealed in
cases of what may be summed up under the word
contrast obtain representation, as we have seen,
simply by means of identification- that is when an
exchange, a substitution, can be bound up with the
contrast. Of this we have cited repeated examples.
Certain other of the contrasts in the dream-
thoughts, which perhaps come under the category of
inverted, united into the opposite, are represented
in dreams in the following remarkable manner,
dream, climbing is difficult at first and easy later on,
whereas, in the novel, it is easy at first, and later
becomes more and more difficult. Again, above and
below, with reference to the dreamer's brother, are
reversed in the dream. This points to a relation of
inversion or contrast between two parts of the
material in the dream-thoughts, which indeed we
found in them, for in the childish phantasy of the
dreamer he is carried by his nurse, while in the
my opposition to the treatment of Goethe as though
he were a lunatic. "It is the other way about," says
the dream; "if you don't understand the book it is
you who are feeble-minded, not the author." All
these dreams of inversion, moreover, seem to me to
imply an allusion to the contemptuous phrase, "to
turn one's back upon a person" (German: einem die
Kehrseite zeigen, lit. to show a person one's
backside): cf. the inversion in respect of the
disagreeable recollection. But inversion becomes
extraordinarily useful in the service of the
censorship, for it effects, in the material to be
represented, a degree of distortion which at first
simply paralyses our understanding of the dream. It
is therefore always permissible, if a dream
stubbornly refuses to surrender its meaning, to
venture on the experimental inversion of definite
portions of its manifest content. Then, not
In many cases, indeed, we discover the
meaning of the dream only when we have subjected
the dream-content to a multiple inversion, in
accordance with the different relations. For example,
in the dream of a young patient who is suffering
from obsessional neurosis, the memory of the
childish death-wish directed against a dreaded
father concealed itself behind the following words:
His father scolds him because he comes home so
home!"
If we should seek to trace the relations
between the dream- content and the dream-
thoughts a little farther, we shall do this best by
making the dream itself our point of departure, and
asking ourselves: What do certain formal
characteristics of the dream-presentation signify in
relation to the dream-thoughts? First and foremost
among the formal characteristics which are bound to
objects. Moreover, we usually describe the
impression which we receive of an indistinct object
in a dream as fleeting, while we think of the more
distinct dream-images as having been perceptible
also for a longer period of time. We must now ask
ourselves by what conditions in the dream-material
these differences in the distinctness of the individual
portions of the dream-content are brought about.
Before proceeding farther, it is necessary to
distinguished by their special vividness from others
which are based on memories. The factor of reality
is inoperative in determining the intensity of dream-
images.
Further, it might be expected that the
sensory intensity (vividness) of single dream-images
is in proportion to the psychic intensity of the
elements corresponding to them in the dream-
thoughts. In the latter, intensity is identical with
material. The intensity of the elements in the one
has nothing to do with the intensity of the elements
in the other; as a matter of fact, a complete
transvaluation of all psychic values takes place
between the dream-material and the dream. The
very element of the dream which is transient and
hazy, and screened by more vigorous images, is
often discovered to be the one and only direct
derivative of the topic that completely dominates the
dream-thoughts.
The intensity of the dream-elements proves
express this latter empirical proposition in the
following formula: The greatest intensity is shown by
those elements of the dream for whose formation
the most extensive condensation-work was required.
We may, therefore, expect that it will be possible to
express this condition, as well as the other condition
of the wish-fulfilment, in a single formula.
I must utter a warning that the problem
which I have just been considering- the causes of
the apparently clear to the indistinct or confused, is
far more complicated than the problem of
fluctuations in vividness of the dream-elements. For
reasons which will be given later, the former cannot
at this stage be further discussed. In isolated cases
one observes, not without surprise, that the
impression of distinctness or indistinctness produced
by a dream has nothing to do with the dream-
structure, but proceeds from the dream-material, as
phantasies.[17] The content of the dream, reduced
to its lowest terms, was that I was expounding to a
friend a difficult and long-sought theory of
bisexuality, and the wish-fulfilling power of the
dream was responsible for the fact that this theory
(which, by the way, was not communicated in the
dream) appeared to be so lucid and flawless. Thus,
what I believed to be a judgment as regards the
finished dream was a part, and indeed the most
that several persons- herself, her husband, and her
father- had occurred in the dream, and that she had
not known whether her husband was her father, or
who really was her father, or something of that sort.
Comparison of this dream with the ideas which
occurred to the dreamer in the course of the sitting
showed beyond a doubt that it dealt with the rather
commonplace story of a maidservant who has to
confess that she is expecting a child, and hears
example, when the dreamer says: Here the dream
was wiped out, and the analysis gives an infantile
reminiscence of listening to someone cleaning
himself after defecation. Or another example, which
deserves to be recorded in detail: A young man has
a very distinct dream, reminding him of phantasies
of his boyhood which have remained conscious. He
found himself in a hotel at a seasonal resort; it was
night; he mistook the number of his room, and
bed: Here something is missing describes the
principal characteristic of the female genitals. In his
young days he burned with curiosity to see the
female genitals, and was still inclined to adhere to
the infantile sexual theory which attributes a male
organ to women.
A very similar form was assumed in an
analogous reminiscence of another dreamer. He
dreamed: I go with Fraulein K into the restaurant of
the sister of his brother-in-law, a girl to whom he
was quite indifferent. On another occasion he
accompanied three ladies to the door of the
restaurant. The ladies were his sister, his sister-in-
law, and the girl already mentioned. He was
perfectly indifferent to all three of them, but they all
belonged to the sister category. He had visited a
brothel but rarely, perhaps two or three times in his
life.
thoughts. In the interpretation of dreams consisting
of several main sections, or of dreams belonging to
the same night, we must not overlook the possibility
that these different and successive dreams mean
the same thing, expressing the same impulses in
different material. That one of these homologous
dreams which comes first in time is usually the most
distorted and most bashful, while the next dream is
bolder and more distinct.
of things."[19]
Jung, in his Beitrag zur Psychologie des
Geruchtes, relates how a veiled erotic dream of a
schoolgirl was understood by her friends without
interpretation, and continued by them with
variations, and he remarks, with reference to one of
these narrated dreams, that "the concluding idea of
a long series of dream-images had precisely the
same content as the first image of the series had
stimulating object only by the remotest and freest
allusions, but towards the end, when the graphic
impulse becomes exhausted, the stimulus itself is
nakedly represented by its appropriate organ or its
function; whereupon the dream, itself describing its
organic motive, achieves its end...."
A pretty confirmation of this law of
Scherner's has been furnished by Otto Rank in his
essay: Ein Traum, der sich selbst deutet. This
theory of dreams in general.
But, in my experience, it is only in rare
cases that one is in a position to translate the
lucidity or confusion of a dream, respectively, into a
certainty or doubt in the dream-material. Later on I
shall have to disclose a hitherto unmentioned factor
in dream-formation, upon whose operation this
qualitative scale in dreams is essentially dependent.
In many dreams in which a certain situation
We may now ask: What is the meaning of
the sensation of inhibited movement which so often
occurs in dreams, and is so closely allied to anxiety?
One wants to move, and is unable to stir from the
spot; or wants to accomplish something, and
encounters obstacle after obstacle. The train is
about to start. and one cannot reach it; one's hand
is raised to avenge an insult, and its strength fails,
etc. We have already met with this sensation in
Inability to do a thing does not always
appear in the dream as a sensation; it may appear
simply as part of the dream-content. I think one
case of this kind is especially fitted to enlighten us
as to the meaning of this peculiarity. I shall give an
abridged version of a dream in which I seem to be
accused of dishonesty. The scene is a mixture made
up of a private sanatorium and several other places.
A manservant appears, to summon me to an
many machines, which reminds me of an inferno
with its hellish instruments of punishment. I see a
colleague strapped to an appliance; he has every
reason to be interested in my appearance, but he
takes no notice of me. I understand that I may now
go. Then I cannot find my hat, and cannot go after
all.
The wish that the dream fulfils is obviously
the wish that my honesty shall be acknowledged,
the effect that the dream is not capable of
expressing a negation, must be revised
accordingly.[20]
In other dreams in which the inability to do
something occurs, not merely as a situation, but
also as a sensation, the same contradiction is more
emphatically expressed by the sensation of inhibited
movement, or a will to which a counter-will is
opposed. Thus the sensation of inhibited movement
than the will, and the fact that we are certain that
the impulse will be inhibited in sleep makes the
whole process extraordinarily well-adapted to the
to anxiety, and why it is so often connected with it
in dreams. Anxiety is a libidinal impulse which
emanates from the unconscious and is inhibited by
the preconscious.[21] Therefore, when a sensation
of inhibition in the dream is accompanied by anxiety,
the dream must be concerned with a volition which
was at one time capable of arousing libido; there
must be a sexual impulse.
As for the judgment which is often
in value and robbed of its reality; that which the
dreamer continues to dream after waking from the
dream within a dream is what the dream-wish
desires to put in place of the obliterated reality. It
may therefore be assumed that the part dreamed
contains the representation of the reality, the real
memory, while, on the other hand, the continued
dream contains the representation of what the
dreamer merely wishes. The inclusion of a certain
Footnotes
[1] References to the condensation in
dreams are to be found in the works of many writers
on the subject. Du Prel states in his Philosophie der
Mystik that he is absolutely certain that a
condensation-process of the succession of ideas had
occurred. -
[2] In estimating the significance of this
passage we may recall the meaning of dreams of
climbing stairs, as explained in the chapter on
Symbolism.
[3] Faust I.
[4] The fantastic nature of the situation
[6] The same analysis and synthesis of
syllables- a veritable chemistry of syllables- serves
us for many a jest in waking life. "What is the
cheapest method of obtaining silver? You go to a
field where silverberries are growing and pick them;
then the berries are eliminated and the silver
remains in a free state." [Translator's example]. The
first person who read and criticized this book made
the objection- with which other readers will probably
dream is under constraint. My readers may convince
themselves that the dreams of my patients give the
impression of being quite as witty (at least, in
intention), as my own, and even more so.
Nevertheless, this reproach impelled me to compare
the technique of wit with the dream-work.
[7] Lasker died of progressive paralysis; that
is, of the consequences of an infection caught from a
woman (syphilis); Lasalle, also a syphilitic, was
[9] The psychic intensity or value of an idea-
the emphasis due to interest- is of course to be
distinguished from perceptual or conceptual
intensity.
[10] "The doer gained."
[11] Since I regard the attribution of dream-
distortion to the censorship as the central point of
my conception of the dream, I will here quote the
closing passage of a story, Traumen wie Wachen,
[13] From a work of K. Abel's, Der
Gegensinn der Urworte, (1884), see my review of it
in the Bleuler-Freud Jahrbuch, ii (1910) (Ges.
Schriften Vol. X). I learned the surprising fact, which
is confirmed by other philologists, that the oldest
languages behaved just as dreams do in this regard.
They had originally only one word for both extremes
in a series of qualities or activities (strong- weak,
old- young, far- near, bind- separate), and formed
chapter V.
ego. I observe the following rule: That person in the
dream who is subject to an emotion which I am
aware of while asleep is the one that conceals my
ego.
[16] The hysterical attack often employs the
same device of temporal inversion in order to
conceal its meaning from the observer. The attack of
a hysterical girl, for example, consists in enacting a
little romance, which she has imagined in the
Artemidorus: "In interpreting dream-stories, one
must consider them the first time from the
beginning to the end, and the second time from the
end to the beginning."
[17] I do not know today whether I was
justified in doing so.
[18] Accompanying hysterical symptoms;
amenorrhoea and profound depression were the
chief troubles of this patient.
Philadelphia).
cannot find my hat is an experience of the day which
has been exploited in various senses. Our servant,
who is a genius at stowing things away, had hidden
the hat. A rejection of melancholy thoughts of death
is concealed behind the conclusion of the dream: "I
have not nearly done my duty yet; I cannot go yet."
Birth and death together- as in the dream of Goethe
and the paralytic, which was a little earlier in date.
[21] This theory is not in accordance with
CHAPTER 6 (Part 2)
THE DREAM-WORK
D. Regard for Representability
We have hitherto been concerned with
investigating the manner in which our dreams
represent the relations between the dream-
thoughts, but we have often extended our inquiry to
the further question as to what alterations the
dream-material itself undergoes for the purposes of
dream-formation. We now know that the dream-
material, after being stripped of a great many of its
relations, is subjected to compression, while at the
But we learn from the analyses that displacement of
another kind does occur, and that it manifests itself
in an exchange of the verbal expression for the
thought in question. In both cases we are dealing
with a displacement along a chain of associations,
but the same process takes place in different psychic
spheres, and the result of this displacement in the
one case is that one element is replaced by another,
while in the other case an element exchanges its
abstract expression would confront the dream-
representation with difficulties not unlike those
which would arise if a political leading article had to
be represented in an illustrated journal. Not only the
possibility of representation, but also the interests of
condensation and of the censorship, may be
furthered by this exchange. Once the abstractly
expressed and unserviceable dream-thought is
translated into pictorial language, those contacts
expression has perhaps been determined by other
factors will therewith exert a distributive and
selective influence on the expressions available for
the others, and it may even do this from the very
start, just as it would in the creative activity of a
poet. When a poem is to be written in rhymed
couplets, the second rhyming line is bound by two
conditions: it must express the meaning allotted to
it, and its expression must permit of a rhyme with
purpose of the dream-work. The part played by
words in dream-formation ought not to surprise us.
A word, as the point of junction of a number of
ideas, possesses, as it were, a predestined
ambiguity, and the neuroses (obsessions, phobias)
take advantage of the opportunities for condensation
and disguise afforded by words quite as eagerly as
do dreams.[22] That dream-distortion also profits by
this displacement of expression may be readily
(a) is to be accepted in the negative or the
positive sense (contrast relation);
(b) is to be interpreted historically (as a
memory);
(c) is symbolic; or whether
(d) its valuation is to be based upon its
wording. - In spite of this versatility, we may say
that the representation effected by the dream-work,
which was never even intended to be understood,
means of symbols may nevertheless be clearly
defined; in the symbolic interpretation of dreams,
the key to the symbolism is selected arbitrarily by
the interpreter, while in our own cases of verbal
disguise these keys are universally known and are
taken from established modes of speech. Provided
one hits on the right idea on the right occasion, one
may solve dreams of this kind, either completely or
in part, independently of any statements made by
the dreamer.
A lady friend of mine, dreams: She is at the
the top of which there is a platform surrounded by
an iron railing. There, high overhead, stands the
conductor, with the features of Hans Richter,
continually running round behind the railing,
perspiring terribly; and from this position he is
conducting the orchestra, which is arranged round
the base of the tower. She herself is sitting in a box
with a friend of her own sex (known to me). Her
younger sister tries to hand her up, from the stalls,
the dreamer, I was able to interpret parts of it
independently of her. I knew that she had felt
intense sympathy for a musician whose career had
been prematurely brought to an end by insanity. I
therefore decided to take the tower in the stalls
verbally. It then emerged that the man whom she
wished to see in the place of Hans Richter towered
above all the other members of the orchestra. This
tower must be described as a composite formation
love.
No fire, no coal so hotly glows
As the secret love of which no one knows.
She and her friend remain seated[24] while
her younger sister, who still has a prospect of
marrying, hands her up the coal because she did not
know that it would be so long. What would be so
long is not told in the dream. If it were an anecdote,
we should say the performance; but in the dream
In the above analysis we have at last
brought to light a third factor, whose part in the
transformation of the dream-thoughts into the
dream-content is by no means trivial: namely,
consideration of the suitability of the dream-
thoughts for representation in the particular psychic
material of which the dream makes use- that is, for
the most part in visual images. Among the various
subordinate ideas associated with the essential
thought may itself have previously changed its
original expression for the purpose of meeting the
first one halfway.
Herbert Silberer[25] has described a good
method of directly observing the transformation of
thoughts into images which occurs in dream-
formation, and has thus made it possible to study in
isolation this one factor of the dream-work. If, while
in a state of fatigue and somnolence, he imposed
later on.
"Symbol. I see myself planing a piece of
wood.
"Example 5. I endeavour to call to mind the
aim of certain metaphysical studies which I am
proposing to undertake.
"This aim, I reflect, consists in working one's
way through, while seeking for the basis of
existence, to ever higher forms of consciousness or
levels of being.
slow working one's way through in order to get to
the bottom). But there is yet more symbolism in the
picture. The cake of the symbol was really a dobos-
cake- that is, a cake in which the knife has to cut
through several layers (the levels of consciousness
and thought).
"Example 9. I lost the thread in a train of
thought. I make an effort to find it again, but I have
to recognize that the point of departure has
equivalents. A good part of this symbolism,
however, is common to the psychoneuroses,
legends, and popular usages as well as to dreams.
In fact, if we look more closely into the
matter, we must recognize that in employing this
kind of substitution the dream- work is doing
nothing at all original. For the achievement of its
purpose, which in this case is representation without
interference from the censorship, it simply follows
is constantly found in the unconscious thinking of
neurotics, and may be traced back to sexual
curiosity, whose object, in the adolescent youth or
maiden, is the genitals of the opposite sex, or even
of the same sex. But, as Scherner and Volkelt very
truly insist, the house does not constitute the only
group of ideas which is employed for the
symbolization of the body, either in dreams or in the
unconscious phantasies of neurosis. To be sure, I
the remotest times, has abundantly paved the way
(the vineyard of the Lord, the seed of Abraham, the
garden of the maiden in the Song of Songs). The
ugliest as well as the most intimate details of sexual
life may be thought or dreamed of in apparently
innocent allusions to culinary operations, and the
symptoms of hysteria will become absolutely
unintelligible if we forget that sexual symbolism may
conceal itself behind the most commonplace and
I here insert the promised flower-dream of a
female patient, in which I shall print in Roman type
everything which is to be sexually interpreted. This
beautiful dream lost all its charm for the dreamer
once it had been interpreted.
(a) Preliminary dream: She goes to the two
maids in the kitchen and scolds them for taking so
long to prepare a little bite of food. She also sees a
very large number of heavy kitchen utensils in the
that she cannot find a place for her foot, and she is
glad that her dress doesn't get caught anywhere,
and that she is able to climb it so respectably.[31]
As she climbs she is carrying a big branch in her
hand,[32] really like a tree, which is thickly studded
with red flowers; a spreading branch, with many
twigs.[33] With this is connected the idea of cherry-
blossoms (Bluten = flowers), but they look like fully
opened camellias, which of course do not grow on
trees. As she is descending, she first has one, then
suddenly two, and then again only one.[34] When
she would like to put it- just such a tree, that is,
with a piece of wood he is scraping thick bunches of
to her) toward whom she goes in order to ask him
how it is possible to transplant such branches in her
own garden.[36] He embraces her, whereupon she
struggles and asks him what he is thinking of,
whether it is permissible to embrace her in such a
manner. He says there is nothing wrong in it, that it
is permitted.[37] He then declares himself willing to
go with her into the other garden, in order to show
her how to put them in, and he says something to
may be described as a biographical dream. Such
dreams occur frequently in psychoanalysis, but
perhaps only rarely outside it.[38]
I have, of course, an abundance of such
material, but to reproduce it here would lead us too
far into the consideration of neurotic conditions.
Everything points to the same conclusion, namely,
that we need not assume that any special
symbolizing activity of the psyche is operative in
E. Representation in Dreams by
Symbols: Some Further Typical Dreams -
The analysis of the last biographical dream
shows that I recognized the symbolism in dreams
from the very outset. But it was only little by little
that I arrived at a full appreciation of its extent and
significance, as the result of increasing experience,
and under the influence of the works of W. Stekel,
concerning which I may here fittingly say
something.
This author, who has perhaps injured
his individual faculty of immediately understanding
the symbols. But such an art cannot be generally
assumed; its efficiency is immune from criticism,
and its results have therefore no claim to credibility.
It is as though one were to base one's diagnosis of
infectious diseases on the olfactory impressions
received beside the sick-bed, although of course
there have been clinicians to whom the sense of
smell- atrophied in most people- has been of greater
sense of smell.
personal gift or idiosyncrasy without perceptible
pathological significance.
When one has familiarized oneself with the
extensive employment of symbolism for the
representation of sexual material in dreams, one
naturally asks oneself whether many of these
symbols have not a permanently established
meaning, like the signs in shorthand; and one even
thinks of attempting to compile a new dream-book
unsolved- which are associated with the concept of
the symbol.[39] We shall here confine ourselves to
saying that representation by a symbol comes under
the heading of the indirect representations, but that
we are warned by all sorts of signs against
indiscriminately classing symbolic representation
with the other modes of indirect representation
before we have clearly conceived its distinguishing
characteristics. In a number of cases, the common
beyond the linguistic identity, as had already been
asserted by Schubert (1814).[41] -
Dreams employ this symbolism to give a
disguised representation to their latent thoughts.
Among the symbols thus employed there are, of
course, many which constantly, or all but constantly,
mean the same thing. But we must bear in mind the
curious plasticity of psychic material. Often enough a
symbol in the dream-content may have to be
Although since Scherner's time the more
recent investigations of dream-problems have
definitely established the existence of dream-
symbolism- even Havelock Ellis acknowledges that
our dreams are indubitably full of symbols- it must
yet be admitted that the existence of symbols in
dreams has not only facilitated dream-
interpretation, but has also made it more difficult.
The technique of interpretation in accordance with
the interpreter's understanding of the symbols.
Critical circumspection in the solution of the symbols
must coincide with careful study of the symbols in
especially transparent examples of dreams in order
to silence the reproach of arbitrariness in dream-
interpretation. The uncertainties which still adhere to
our function as dream-interpreters are due partly to
our imperfect knowledge (which, however, can be
progressively increased) and partly to certain
divergent character.
and Queen)[42] in most cases really represent the
dreamer's parents; the dreamer himself or herself is
the prince or princess. But the high authority
conceded to the Emperor is also conceded to great
men, so that in some dreams, for example, Goethe
appears as a father symbol (Hitschmann).- All
elongated objects, sticks, tree-trunks, umbrellas (on
account of the opening, which might be likened to
an erection), all sharp and elongated weapons,
Analysis of Hysteria.) There is no need to be explicit
as to the sort of key that will unlock the room; the
symbolism of lock and key has been gracefully if
broadly employed by Uhland in his song of the Graf
Eberstein.- The dream of walking through a suite of
rooms signifies a brothel or a harem. But, as H.
Sachs has shown by an admirable example, it is also
employed to represent marriage (contrast). An
interesting relation to the sexual investigations of
which one lets oneself down- often with a sense of
great anxiety- correspond to erect human bodies,
and probably repeat in our dreams childish
memories of climbing up parents or nurses. Smooth
walls are men; in anxiety dreams one often holds
firmly to projections on houses. Tables, whether
bare or covered, and boards, are women, perhaps
by virtue of contrast, since they have no protruding
contours. Wood generally speaking, seems, in
characteristic of men, but also because one can
select them at pleasure, a freedom which nature
prohibits as regards the original of the symbol.
Persons who make use of this symbol in dreams are
very extravagant in the matter of ties, and possess
whole collections of them.[46] All complicated
machines and appliances are very probably the
genitals- as a rule the male genitals- in the
description of which the symbolism of dreams is as
latent meaning of the dream. Whereas, naively
regarded, they seemed to represent plans, maps,
and so forth, closer investigation showed that they
were representations of the human body, of the
genitals, etc., and only after conceiving them thus
could the dream be understood.[47] Finally, where
one finds incomprehensible neologisms one may
suspect combinations of components having a
sexual significance.- Children, too, often signify the
new growth- has the same meaning. Most of those
animals which are utilized as genital symbols in
mythology and folklore play this part also in dreams:
the fish, the snail, the cat, the mouse (on account of
the hairiness of the genitals), but above all the
snake, which is the most important symbol of the
male member. Small animals and vermin are
substitutes for little children, e.g., undesired sisters
or brothers. To be infected with vermin is often the
critical reflection, and his tendency to generalize at
all costs, make his interpretations doubtful or
inapplicable, so that in making use of his works
caution is urgently advised. I shall therefore restrict
myself to mentioning a few examples. -
Right and left, according to Stekel, are to be
understood in dreams in an ethical sense. "The
right-hand path always signifies the way to
righteousness, the left-hand path the path to crime.
overtake a carriage is interpreted by Stekel as
regret at being unable to catch up with a difference
in age (p. 479). The luggage of a traveller is the
burden of sin by which one is oppressed (ibid.) But a
traveller's luggage often proves to be an
unmistakable symbol of one's own genitals. To
numbers, which frequently occur in dreams, Stekel
has assigned a fixed symbolic meaning, but these
interpretations seem neither sufficiently verified nor
Still, I think it is not superfluous to state that in my
experience this general statement of Stekel's
requires elaboration. Besides those symbols which
are just as frequently employed for the male as for
the female genitals, there are others which
preponderantly, or almost exclusively, designate one
of the sexes, and there are yet others which, so far
as we know, have only the male or only the female
signification. To use long, stiff objects and weapons
imagination.
It is true that the tendency of dreams, and
place, so that the male organ is represented by the
female, and vice versa. Such dreams express, for
example, the wish of a woman to be a man.
The genitals may even be represented in
dreams by other parts of the body: the male
member by the hand or the foot, the female genital
orifice by the mouth, the ear, or even the eye. The
secretions of the human body- mucus, tears, urine,
semen, etc.- may be used in dreams
I shall now append a few instances of the
use of such symbols, which will show how impossible
it is to arrive at the interpretation of a dream if one
excludes dream-symbolism, but also how in many
cases it is imperatively forced upon one. At the
same time, I must expressly warn the investigator
against overestimating the importance of symbols in
the interpretation of dreams, restricting the work of
dream-translation to the translation of symbols, and
(A fragment from the dream of a young
woman who suffered from agoraphobia as the result
of her fear of temptation.) -
I am walking in the street in summer; I am
wearing a straw hat of peculiar shape, the middle
piece of which is bent upwards, while the side pieces
hang downwards (here the description hesitates),
and in such a fashion that one hangs lower than the
other. I am cheerful and in a confident mood, and as
determination of just such details must point the
way to the interpretation. I went on to say that if,
therefore, she had a husband with such splendid
genitals she would not have to fear the officers; that
is, she would have nothing to wish from them, for it
was essentially her temptation- phantasies which
prevented her from going about unprotected and
unaccompanied. This last explanation of her anxiety
I had already been able to give her repeatedly on
whether it was the same with all men. With this the
peculiar detail of the hat was explained, and the
whole interpretation was accepted by her.
The hat symbol was familiar to me long
before the patient related this dream. From other
but less transparent cases I believed that I might
assume the hat could also stand for the female
genitals.[50] -
patient.)
Her mother sends away her little daughter
Analysis.- It is not an easy matter to give
here a complete interpretation of the dream. It
forms part of a cycle of dreams, and can be fully
understood only in connection with the rest. For it is
not easy to obtain the material necessary to
demonstrate the symbolism in a sufficiently isolated
condition. The patient at first finds that the railway
journey is to be interpreted historically as an
allusion to a departure from a sanatorium for
pieces of the little daughter who had been run over
and crushed. The association, however, turns in
quite a different direction. She recalls that she once
saw her father in the bath-room, naked, from
behind; she then begins to talk about sex
differences, and remarks that in the man the
genitals can be seen from behind, but in the woman
they cannot. In this connection she now herself
offers the interpretation that the little one is the
The deeper interpretation of this dream
depends upon another dream of the same night, in
which the dreamer identifies herself with her
brother. She was a tomboy, and was always being
told that she should have been born a boy. This
identification with the brother shows with especial
clearness that the little one signifies the genital
organ. The mother threatened him (her) with
castration, which could only be understood as a
off?" to which the girl replies: "No, it's always been
like that."
Consequently the sending away of the little
one, of the genital organ, in the first dream refers
also to the threatened castration. Finally, she
blames her mother for not having borne her as a
boy.
That being run over symbolizes sexual
intercourse would not be evident from this dream if
in which lies a large sheet of tin. His father wants to
pull off a big piece of this, but first looks round to
see if anyone is watching. He tells his father that all
he needs to do is to speak to the overseer, and then
he can take as much as he wants to without any
more ado. From this courtyard a flight of stairs leads
down into a shaft, the walls of which are softly
upholstered, rather like a leather arm-chair. At the
end of this shaft there is a long platform, and then a
the child with the genitals; the smaller structure in
front is the scrotum. In the dream his father asks
him what this is all for- that is, he asks him about
the purpose and arrangement of the genitals. It is
quite evident that this state of affairs should be
reversed, and that he ought to be the questioner. As
such questioning, on the part of the father never
occurred in reality, we must conceive the dream-
thought as a wish, or perhaps take it conditionally,
its profit mainly depended. Hence the continuation
of the above dream-thought ("if I had asked him")
would be: "He would have deceived me just as he
does his customers." For the pulling off, which
serves to represent commercial dishonesty, the
dreamer himself gives a second explanation,
namely, masturbation. This is not only quite familiar
to us (see above), but agrees very well with the fact
that the secrecy of masturbation is expressed by its
himself explains biographically. He had for some
time had sexual intercourse with women, but had
given it up on account of inhibitions, and now hopes
to be able to begin it again with the aid of
treatment. The dream, however, becomes indistinct
towards the end, and to the experienced interpreter
it becomes evident that in the second scene of the
dream the influence of another subject has already
begun to assert itself; which is indicated by his
church there was a mountain[54] on top of which
there was a dense forest.[55] The policeman was
provided with a helmet, a gorget, and a cloak.[56]
The two vagrants, who went along with the
policeman quite peaceably, had sack-like aprons tied
round their loins.[57] A road led from the church to
the mountain. This road was overgrown on each side
with grass and brushwood, which became thicker
and thicker as it reached the top of the mountain,
large woman with severe features comes up to him
and cuts off his head. He recognizes the woman as
his mother.
6. A modified staircase dream.
To one of my patients, a sexual abstainer,
who was very ill, whose phantasy was fixated upon
his mother, and who repeatedly dreamed of climbing
stairs while accompanied by his mother, I once
remarked that moderate masturbation would
sexual facts and wishes.
7. The sensation of reality and the
representation of repetition.
A man, now thirty-five, relates a clearly
remembered dream which he claims to have had
when he was four years of age: The notary with
whom his father's will was deposited- he had lost his
father at the age of three- brought two large
Emperor-pears, of which he was given one to eat.
will fly away, but they do not fly away, and one of
them flies to her mouth and sucks at it.
The dreamer's inability to furnish
associations justifies the attempt to interpret it by
the substitution of symbols. The two pears- pommes
on poires- are the breasts of the mother who nursed
him; the window-sill is the projection of the bosom,
analogous to the balconies in the dream of houses.
His sensation of reality after waking is justified, for
multiplication of an object
dream of a child of four, but this is the rule rather
than the exception. One may say that the dreamer
has command of symbolism from the very first.
The early age at which people make use of
symbolic representation, even apart from the
dream-life, may be shown by the following
uninfluenced memory of a lady who is now twenty-
seven: She is in her fourth year. The nursemaid is
driving her, with her brother, eleven months
little assistance from the dreamer:
8. The question of symbolism in the
dreams of normal persons. [58] -
An objection frequently raised by the
opponents of psycho- analysis -- and recently also
by Havelock Ellis[59] -- is that, although dream-
symbolism may perhaps be a product of the neurotic
psyche, it has no validity whatever in the case of
normal persons. But while psychoanalysis recognizes
resulting therefrom, are frequently troubled and
obscured, and are therefore more difficult to
translate. The following dream serves to illustrate
this fact. This dream comes from a non-neurotic girl
of a rather prudish and reserved type. In the course
of conversation I found that she was engaged to be
married, but that there were hindrances in the way
of the marriage which threatened to postpone it.
She related spontaneously the following dream: -
taken place long ago.
I call her attention to the fact that the centre
of a table is an unusual expression, which she
admits; but here, of course, I cannot question her
more directly. I carefully refrain from suggesting to
her the meaning of the symbols, and ask her only
for the thoughts which occur to her mind in
connection with the individual parts of the dream. In
the course of the analysis her reserve gave way to a
piece of dream-symbolism, and serves to emphasize
the preciousness of her virginity- expensive flowers;
one has to pay for them- and expresses the
expectation that her husband will know how to
appreciate its value. The comment, expensive
flowers, etc. has, as will be shown, a different
meaning in every one of the three different flower-
symbols.
I thought of what seemed to me a
unconscious. One has to pay for them here means
life, with which she has to pay for becoming a wife
and a mother.
In association with pinks, which she then
calls carnations, I think of carnal. But her
association is colour, to which she adds that
carnations are the flowers which her fiance gives her
frequently and in large quantities. At the end of the
conversation she suddenly admits, spontaneously,
that she has not told me the truth; the word that
occurred to her was not colour, but incarnation, the
of carnation, a still further indication of their phallic
significance in the dream. The occasion of the
present of flowers during the day is employed to
express the thought of a sexual present and a return
present. She gives her virginity and expects in
return for it a rich love-life. But the words:
expensive flowers; one has to pay for them may
have a real, financial meaning. The flower-
symbolism in the dream thus comprises the virginal
latent thought were to say: "If I were he, I would
not wait, but I would deflower the bride without
asking her; I would use violence." Indeed, the word
violate points to this. Thus even the sadistic libidinal
components find expression.
In a deeper stratum of the dream the
sentence I arrange, etc., probably has an auto-
erotic, that is, an infantile significance.
She also has a knowledge- possibly only in
says also: "To hide untidy things, whatever was to
be seen which was not pretty to the eye; there is a
gap, a little space in the flowers. The paper looks
like velvet or moss." With decorate she associates
decorum, as I expected. The green colour is very
prominent, and with this she associates hope, yet
another reference to pregnancy. In this part of the
dream the identification with the man is not the
dominant feature, but thoughts of shame and
means of an over-estimation of the value of her
virginity. Her shame excuses the emerging
sensuality by the fact that the aim of it all is the
child. Even material considerations, which are
foreign to the lover, find expression here. The affect
of the simple dream- the feeling of bliss- shows that
here strong emotional complexes have found
satisfaction.
I close with the
9. Dream of a chemist.
Dream I. He is going to make
phenylmagnesiumbromide; he sees the apparatus
with particular distinctness, but he has substituted
himself for the magnesium. He is now in a curious,
wavering attitude. He keeps on repeating to himself:
"This is the right thing, it is working, my feet are
beginning to dissolve, and my knees are getting
soft." Then he reaches down and feels for his feet,
and meanwhile (he does not know how) he takes his
when you get there it will be half-past twelve." The
next moment he sees the whole family gathered
about the table- his mother and the parlourmaid
with the soup tureen with peculiar distinctness. Then
he says to himself: "Well, if we are sitting down to
eat already, I certainly can't get away."
Analysis. He feels sure that even the first
dream contains a reference to the lady whom he is
to meet at the place of rendezvous (the dream was
Again, he is the material with which the
analysis (synthesis) is made. For the question is the
success of the treatment. The legs in the dream
recall an impression of the previous evening. He met
a lady at a dancing class of whom he wished to
make a conquest; he pressed her to him so closely
that she once cried out. As he ceased to press her
legs he felt her firm, responding pressure against his
lower thighs as far as just above the knees, the spot
He says, in respect to the repetition of the
name phenyl, that all these radicals ending in yl
have always been pleasing to him; they are very
convenient to use: benzyl, acetyl, etc. That,
however, explained nothing. But when I proposed
the root Schlemihl he laughed heartily, and told me
that during the summer he had read a book by
Prevost which contained a chapter: "Les exclus de
l'amour," and in this there was some mention of
material by the symbols with which psycho-analytic
dream-interpretation has made us familiar. Thus,
following the suggestion that the dreamer should
dream of homosexual relations with a lady friend,
this friend appeared in the dream carrying a shabby
travelling-bag, upon which there was a label with
the printed words: "For ladies only." The dreamer
was believed never to have heard of dream-
symbolization or of dream-interpretation.
Psychoanalyse.
Only when we have formed a due estimate
of the importance of symbolism in dreams can we
and second, those which despite the same or a
similar content must nevertheless be given the most
varied interpretations. Of the typical dreams
belonging to the first class I have already dealt fairly
fully with the examination-dream.
On account of their similar affective
character, the dreams of missing a train deserve to
be ranked with the examination-dreams; moreover,
their interpretation justifies this approximation. They
The meaning of the dreams due to dental
stimulus which I have often enough had to analyse
in my patients escaped me for a long time because,
much to my astonishment, they habitually offered
too great a resistance to interpretation. But finally
an overwhelming mass of evidence convinced me
that in the case of men nothing other than the
masturbatory desires of puberty furnish the motive
power of these dreams. I shall analyse two such
the opera performed was Fidelio, he recalls the
words: -
He who a charming wife acquires.... -
But the acquisition of even the most
charming wife is not among the wishes of the
dreamer. Two other lines would be more
appropriate: -
He who succeeds in the lucky (big) throw
The friend of a friend to be.... -
The other dream is as follows: Two
university professors of his acquaintance are
treating him in my place. One of them does
something to his penis; he is afraid of an operation.
The other thrusts an iron bar against his mouth, so
that he loses one or two teeth. He is bound with four
silk handkerchiefs.
The sexual significance of this dream can
hardly be doubted. The silk handkerchiefs allude to
during puberty.
I believe that the frequent modifications of
the typical dream due to dental stimulus- that, for
come to have this significance. But here I may draw
attention to the frequent displacement from below to
above which is at the service of sexual repression,
and by means of which all kinds of sensations and
intentions occurring in hysteria, which ought to be
localized in the genitals, may at all events be
realized in other, unobjectionable parts of the body.
We have a case of such displacement when the
genitals are replaced by the face in the symbolism of
I will not assert that the interpretation of
dreams due to dental stimulus as dreams of
masturbation (the correctness of which I cannot
doubt) has been freed of all obscurity.[61] I carry
the explanation as far as I am able, and must leave
the rest unsolved. But I must refer to yet another
relation indicated by a colloquial expression. In
Austria there is in use an indelicate designation for
the act of masturbation, namely: "To pull one out,"
falling, swimming, etc. What do these dreams
signify? Here we cannot generalize. They mean, as
we shall learn, something different in each case;
only, the sensory material which they contain always
comes from the same source.
We must conclude from the information
obtained in psycho-analysis that these dreams also
repeat impressions of our childhood- that is, that
they refer to the games involving movement which
held them, so that now they are free to float or fall.
We know that all small children have a fondness for
such games as rocking and see-sawing; and when
they see gymnastic performances at the circus their
recollection of such games is refreshed. In some
boys the hysterical attack consists simply in the
reproduction of such performances, which they
accomplish with great dexterity. Not infrequently
sexual sensations are excited by these games of
dreams of flying and falling. As I see it, these
sensations have themselves been reproduced from
the memory to which the dream refers- that they
are therefore dream-content, and not dream-
sources.[63]-
This material, consisting of sensations of
motion, similar in character, and originating from
the same sources, is now used for the
representation of the most manifold dream-
head to tower into the air- fulfilled both of her
wishes. In the case of other dreamers of the same
sex, the dream of flying had the significance of the
longing: "If only I were a little bird!" Similarly,
others become angels at night, because no one has
ever called them angels by day. The intimate
connection between flying and the idea of a bird
makes it comprehensible that the dream of flying, in
the case of male dreamers, should usually have a
to any kind of interpretation, nevertheless defends
the erotic interpretation of the dreams of flying and
hovering.[65] He describes the erotic element as
"the most important motive factor of the hovering
dream," and refers to the strong sense of bodily
vibration which accompanies this type of dream, and
the frequent connection of such dreams with
erections and emissions. -
Dreams of falling are more frequently
have usually been bed-wetters, and they now repeat
in the dream a pleasure which they have long since
learned to forego. We shall soon learn, from one
example or another, to what representations dreams
of swimming easily lend themselves.
The interpretation of dreams of fire justifies
a prohibition of the nursery, which forbids children
to play with fire so that they may not wet the bed at
night. These dreams also are based on
passing through narrow alleys, or a whole suite of
rooms; dreams of burglars, in respect of whom
nervous people take measures of precaution before
going to bed; dreams of being chased by wild
animals (bulls, horses); or of being threatened with
knives, daggers, and lances. The last two themes
are characteristic of the manifest dream-content of
persons suffering from anxiety, etc. A special
investigation of this class of material would be well
example, Nacke in his writings on sexual dreams).
Let us recognize at once that there is nothing
astonishing in this fact, which is entirely consistent
with the principles of dream- interpretation. No
other instinct has had to undergo so much
suppression, from the time of childhood onwards, as
the sexual instinct in all its numerous
components:[67] from no other instincts are so
many and such intense unconscious wishes left over,
interpreted bisexually, as Stekel[68] maintains, and
Adler,[69] seems to me to be a generalization as
insusceptible of proof as it is improbable, and one
which, therefore, I should be loth to defend; for I
should, above all, be at a loss to know how to
dispose of the obvious fact that there are many
dreams which satisfy other than erotic needs (taking
the word in the widest sense), as, for example,
dreams of hunger, thirst, comfort, etc. And other
We have stated elsewhere that dreams
which are conspicuously innocent commonly embody
crude erotic wishes, and this we might confirm by
numerous further examples. But many dreams
which appear indifferent, in which we should never
suspect a tendency in any particular direction, may
be traced, according to the analysis, to unmistakably
sexual wish-impulses, often of an unsuspected
nature. For example, who, before it had been
commonest of sexual symbols, and will readily see
in this dream a representation of attempted coition
from behind (between the two stately buttocks of
the female body). The narrow, steep passage is, of
course, the vagina; the assistance attributed to the
wife of the dreamer requires the interpretation that
in reality it is only consideration for the wife which is
responsible for abstention from such an attempt.
Moreover, inquiry shows that on the previous day a
there arises the recollection of another, an
unrecognizable, indifferent dream, which the patient
has dreamed repeatedly, and which on analysis
proves to be a dream with this very content- that is,
yet another Oedipus dream. I can assure the reader
that disguised dreams of sexual intercourse with the
dreamer's mother are far more frequent than
undisguised dreams to the same effect.[70] -
Typical example of a disguised Oedipus
dream:
A man dreams: He has a secret affair with a
relationship. There is, however, in reality, yet
another factor, the mention of which was avoided in
the dream, and which alone gives the key to it. The
life of the husband is threatened by an organic
malady. His wife is prepared for the possibility of his
sudden death, and our dreamer consciously
harbours the intention of marrying the young widow
after her husband's decease. It is through this
objective situation that the dreamer finds himself
that he may win the woman for his wife; his dream
There are dreams of landscapes and
localities in which emphasis is always laid upon the
assurance: "I have been here before." but this Deja
vu has a special significance in dreams. In this case
the locality is the genitals of the mother; of no other
place can it be asserted with such certainty that one
has been here before. I was once puzzled by the
account of a dream given by a patient afflicted with
obsessional neurosis. He dreamed that he called at a
profited by the intra-uterine opportunity of spying
upon an act of coition between his parents.
He is in a deep shaft, in which there is a
window, as in the Semmering tunnel. Through this
he sees at first an empty landscape, and then he
composes a picture in it, which is there all at once
and fills up the empty space. The picture represents
a field which is being deeply tilled by an implement,
and the wholesome air, the associated idea of hard
think of me.
Here is a pretty water-dream of a female
patient, which was turned to special account in the
course of treatment.
where the pale moon is reflected in the water.
Dreams of this sort are parturition dreams;
their interpretation is effected by reversing the fact
recorded in the manifest dream- content; thus,
instead of flinging oneself into the water, read
coming out of the water- that is, being born.[71]
The place from which one is born may be recognized
if one thinks of the humorous sense of the French la
lune. The pale moon thus becomes the white
Another dream of parturition, with its
interpretation, I take from a paper by E. Jones. "She
stood at the seashore watching a small boy, who
seemed to be hers, wading into the water. This he
did till the water covered him and she could only see
his head bobbing up and down near the surface. The
scene then changed to the crowded to hall of an
hotel. Her husband left her, and she 'entered into
conversation with' a stranger.
bobbing up and down of the head in the water at
once recalled to the patient the sensation of
quickening which she had experienced in her only
pregnancy. Thinking of the boy going into the water
induced a reverie in which she saw herself taking
him out of the water, carrying him into the nursery,
washing and dressing him, and installing him in her
household.
"The second half of the dream, therefore,
Another parturition dream is related by
Abraham- the dream of a young woman expecting
her first confinement: Front one point of the floor of
the room a subterranean channel leads directly into
the water (path of parturition- amniotic fluid). She
lifts up a trap in the floor, and there immediately
appears a creature dressed in brownish fur, which
almost resembles a seal. This creature changes into
the dreamer's younger brother, to whom her
under these influences not only reveal quite frankly
the wish-fulfilling tendency, and the character of
convenience-dreams, but they very often display a
quite transparent symbolism as well, since waking
not infrequently follows a stimulus whose
satisfaction in symbolic disguise has already been
vainly attempted in the dream. This is true of
emission dreams as well as those evoked by the
need to urinate or defecate. The peculiar character
divined. Hippocrates had already advanced the
theory that a disturbance of the bladder was
indicated if one dreamt of fountains and springs
(Havelock Ellis). Scherner, who has studied the
manifold symbolism of the urethral stimulus, agrees
that "the powerful urethral stimulus always turns
into the stimulation of the sexual sphere and its
symbolic imagery.... The dream due to urethral
stimulus is often at the same time the
undisguisedly erotic images.[73] -
In a quite analogous manner dreams due to
intestinal stimulus disclose the pertinent symbolism,
and thus confirm the relation, which is also amply
verified by ethno-psychology, of gold and feces.[74]
"Thus, for example, a woman, at a time when she is
under the care of a physician on account of an
intestinal disorder, dreams of a digger for hidden
treasure who is burying a treasure in the vicinity of
soiled herself." -
Dreams of rescue are connected with
even disturb our sleep, originate in one and the
same childish reminiscence. They are the nightly
visitors who have waked the child in order to set it
on the chamber, so that it may not wet the bed, or
have lifted the coverlet in order to see clearly how
the child is holding its hands while sleeping. I have
been able to induce an exact recollection of the
nocturnal visitor in the analysis of some of these
anxiety dreams. The robbers were always the
Footnotes
[22] Compare Wit and its Relation to the
Unconscious.
[23] Hugo Wolf.
[24] The German sitzen geblieben is often
be found in the three supplementary volumes of
Edward Fuchs's Illustrierte Sittengeschichte;
privately printed by A. Lange, Munich.
[27] For the interpretation of this
preliminary dream, which is to be regarded as
casual, see earlier in this chapter, C.
[28] Her career.
[29] Exalted origin, the wish-contrast to the
preliminary dream.
[33] For the explanation of this composite
formation, see earlier in this chapter, C.; innocence,
menstruation, La Dame aux Camelias.
[34] Referring to the plurality of the persons
who serve her phantasies.
[35] Whether it is permissible to
masturbate. [Sich einem herunterreissen means "to
pull off" and colloquially "to masturbate."- TR.]
[36] The branch (Ast) has long been used to
dreamer.
been said on the subject will be found in the work of
O. Rank and H. Sachs, Die Bedeutung der
Psychoanalyse fur die Geisteswissenschaft, (1913),
chap. i.
[40] This conception would seem to find an
extraordinary confirmation in a theory advanced by
Hans Sperber ("Uber den Einfluss sexueller
momente auf Entstehung und Entwicklung der
Sprache," in Imago, i. [1912]). Sperber believes
symbols are as old as language itself, while others
are continually being coined (e.g., the aeroplane,
the Zeppelin). -
[42] In the U.S.A. the father is represented
in dreams as the President, and even more often as
the Governor- a title which is frequently applied to
the parent in everyday life.- TR.
[43] "A patient living in a boarding-house
dreams that he meets one of the servants, and asks
Symbolism of Dreams [German version by F. S.
Krauss, Vienna, 1881, p. 110]: "Thus, for example,
the bedroom signifies the wife, supposing one to be
in the house.")
[44] Cf. "the cloaca theory" in Three
Contributions to the Theory of Sex.
[45] See p. 123-124 above.
[46] Cf. in the Zentralblatt fur
Psychoanalyse, ii, 675, the drawing of a nineteen-
one developed here, I must still insist that Scherner
should be recognized as the true discoverer of
symbolism in dreams, and that the experience of
psycho analysis has brought his book (published in
1861) into posthumous repute. -
[49] From "Nachtrage sur Traumdeutung" in
Zentralblatt fur Psychoanalyse, i, Nos. 5 and 6,
(1911). -
[50] Cf. Kirchgraber for a similar example
according to the explanation of a specialist, of a
phallic character.
[57] The two halves of the scrotum. -
[58] Alfred Robitsek in the Zentralblatt fur
Psychoanalyse, ii (1911), p. 340.
[59] The World of Dreams, London (1911),
p. 168. -
[60] The extraction of a tooth by another is
usually to be interpreted as castration (cf. hair-
part from the whole body.
[62] Cf. the biographical dream earlier in
this chapter. -
[63] This passage, dealing with dreams of
motion, is repeated on account of the context. Cf.
chapter V., D. -
[64] A reference to the German slang word
vogeln (to copulate) from Vogel (a bird).- TR.
[65] "Uber den Traum," Ges. Schriften, Vol.
III. -
[66] Collected Papers, III. -
Sex. -
[68] W. Stekel, Die Sprache des Traumes
(1911).
[69] Alf. Adler, "Der Psychische
Hermaphroditismus im Leben und in der Neurose,"
[70] I have published a typical example of
such a disguised Oedipus dream in No. 1 of the
Zentralblatt fur Psychoanalyse (see below): another,
with a detailed analysis, was published in No. 4 of
the same journal by Otto Rank. For other disguised
Oedipus dreams in which the eye appears as a
symbol, see Rank (Int. Zeitschr. fur Ps. A., i,
[1913]). Papers upon eye dreams and eye
symbolism by Eder, Ferenczi, and Reitler will be
first to kiss his mother (osculum matri tulerit), which
Brutus conceived as referring to Mother Earth
(terram osculo contigit, scilicet quod ea communis
mater omnium mortalium esset, Livy, I, lvi). Cf.
here the dream of Hippias in Herodotus vi, 107.
These myths and interpretations point to a correct
psychological insight. I have found that those
persons who consider themselves preferred or
favoured by their mothers manifest in life that
Helden (1909).
[72] It was not for a long time that I learned
to appreciate the significance of the phantasies and
in a life after death, which represents only the
projection into the future of this mysterious life
before birth. The act of birth, moreover, is the first
experience attended by anxiety, and is thus, the
source and model of the affect of anxiety. -
[73] "The same symbolic representations
which in the infantile sense constitute the basis of
the vesical dream appear in the recent sense in
purely sexual significance: water = urine = semen =
[75] For such a dream see Pfister, "Ein Fall
von psychoanalytischer Seelensorge und
Seelenheilung," in Evangelische Freiheit (1909).
Concerning the symbol of "rescuing," see my paper,
"The Future Prospects of Psycho-Analytic Therapy"
(p. 123 above). Also "Contribution to the Theory of
Love, I: A Special Type of Object Choice in Men" in
Collected Papers, iv. Also Rank, "Beilege zur
Rettungs-phantasie," in the Zentralblatt fur
CHAPTER 6 (Part 3)
THE DREAM-WORK
F. Examples- Arithmetic and Speech in
Dreams
the fourth of the factors which control the formation
of dreams, I shall cite a few examples from my
collection of dreams, partly for the purpose of
illustrating the co-operation of the three factors with
which we are already acquainted, and partly for the
purpose of adducing evidence for certain
unsupported assertions which have been made, or of
intended to illustrate. This technical consideration
must be my excuse if I now proceed to mix together
all sorts of things which have nothing in common
except their reference to the text of the foregoing
chapter.
We shall first consider a few examples of
very peculiar or unusual methods of representation
in dreams. A lady dreamed as follows: A servant-girl
is standing on a ladder as though to clean the
employment of this simple artifice in the dream-
work.
Another dream proceeds in a very similar
manner: A woman with a child which has a
conspicuously deformed cranium; the dreamer has
heard that the child acquired this deformity owing to
its position in its mother's womb. The doctor says
that the cranium might be given a better shape by
means of compression, but that this would injure the
signifies superfluous. The abstract idea occurring in
the dream-thoughts is first made equivocal by a
certain abuse of language; it has perhaps been
replaced by overflowing, or by fluid and super-fluid
(-fluous), and has then been brought to
representation by an accumulation of like
impressions. Water within, water without, water in
the beds in the form of dampness- everything fluid
and super fluid. That for the purposes of dream-
privilege.
The fact that language has at its disposal a
example, a man dreams that his friend, who is
struggling to get out of a very tight place, calls upon
him for help. The analysis shows that the tight place
is a hole, and that the dreamer symbolically uses
these very words to his friend: "Be careful, or you'll
get yourself into a hole."[76] Another dreamer
climbs a mountain from which he obtains an
extraordinarily extensive view. He identifies himself
with his brother, who is editing a review dealing with
colloquialisms and witty expressions; one scarcely
finds a dream without a double meaning or a play
upon words.
It would be a special undertaking to collect
such methods of representation and to arrange them
in accordance with the principles upon which they
are based. Some of the representations are almost
witty. They give one the impression that one would
have never guessed their meaning if the dreamer
time into space. One sees persons and scenes as
though at a great distance, at the end of a long
road, or as though one were looking at them
through the wrong end of a pair of opera-glasses.
3. A man who in waking life shows an
inclination to employ abstract and indefinite
expressions, but who otherwise has his wits about
him, dreams, in a certain connection, that he
reaches a railway station just as a train is coming in.
interpretation, which would never have occurred to
me: it means auto-erotism. In the waking state this
might have been said in jest.
5. At a New Year's Eve dinner the host, the
patriarch of the family, ushered in the New Year with
a speech. One of his sons-in- law, a lawyer, was not
inclined to take the old man seriously, especially
when in the course of his speech he expressed
himself as follows: "When I open the ledger for the
marked liability, there was the name of his brother-
in-law, X. However, the word liability was changed
into Lie-Ability, which he regarded as X's main
characteristic.[77]
6. A dreamer treats another person for a
broken bone. The analysis shows that the fracture
represents a broken marriage vow, etc.
7. In the dream-content the time of day
often represents a certain period of the dreamer's
was born.
8. Another representation of age in a dream:
separated by this period of time 3 1/2 and 4 3/4
years).
9. It is not astonishing that persons who are
undergoing psycho- analytic treatment frequently
dream of it, and are compelled to give expression in
their dreams to all the thoughts and expectations
aroused by it. The image chosen for the treatment is
as a rule that of a journey, usually in a motor-car,
this being a modern and complicated vehicle; in the
whom the dreamer is afraid; or thus, by means of a
very slight displacement, the persons who
experience these passions. From this it is not very
far to the totemistic representation of the dreaded
father by means of vicious animals, dogs, wild
horses, etc. One might say that wild beasts serve to
represent the libido, feared by the ego, and
combated by repression. Even the neurosis itself,
the sick person, is often separated from the dreamer
work as the author's lack of critical judgment and his
arbitrary technique would make even the
unprejudiced observer feel doubtful.
10. From an essay by V. Tausk ("Kleider und
Farben in Dienste der Traumdarstellung," in Interna.
Zeitschr. fur Ps. A., ii [1914]):
(a) A dreams that he sees his former
governess wearing a dress of black lustre, which fits
closely over her buttocks. That means he declares
proper names, by means of the forced exploitation
of very remote relations. In one of my dreams old
Brucke has set me a task. I make a preparation, and
pick something out of it which looks like crumpled
tinfoil. (I shall return to this dream later.) The
corresponding association, which is not easy to find,
is stanniol, and now I know that I have in mind the
name of the author Stannius, which appeared on the
title- page of a treatise on the nervous system of
shouldn't be able to look at the plates of the other
children and see how much they had received of any
particular dish. Since I had heard that God was
omniscient, the dream signified that I knew
everything in spite of the hat which I was made to
wear."
What the dream-work consists in, and its
unceremonious handling of its material, the dream-
thoughts, may be shown in an instructive manner by
my knowledge of the dreamer's circumstances. The
lady was a foreigner, who had placed her daughter
at school in Vienna, and was able to continue my
treatment as long as her daughter remained in the
city. In three weeks the daughter's scholastic year
would end, and the treatment would then stop. On
the day before the dream the principal of the school
had asked her whether she could not decide to leave
the child at school for another year. She had then
appear in the dream is a self- evident wish-
fulfilment; the wish has reduced both the cost of the
treatment and the year's school fees.
2. In another dream the numerals are
involved in even more complex relations. A young
lady, who has been married for some years, learns
that an acquaintance of hers, of about the same
age, Elise L, has just become engaged. Thereupon
she dreams: She is sitting in the theatre with her
whence the 3 in connection with the seats in the
theatre? There is only one association for this,
namely, that the fiance is three months younger
than herself. When we have ascertained the
significance of the fact that one side of the stalls is
empty we have the solution of the dream. This
feature is an undisguised allusion to a little incident
which had given her husband a good excuse for
teasing her. She had decided to go to the theatre
such a hurry.
I shall now substitute the dream-thoughts
for the dream: "It surely was nonsense to marry so
(antithesis to the haste of her sister-in- law), I could
have bought three such men for the money (the
dowry)!"- Our attention is drawn to the fact that the
numerals in this dream have changed their
meanings and their relations to a much greater
extent than in the. one previously considered. The
transforming and distorting activity of the dream has
in this case been greater- a fact which we interpret
as meaning that these dream-thoughts had to
compared (three months' difference in their ages),
has thus been adroitly utilized to produce the idea of
nonsense required by the dream. The reduction of
the actual 150 florins to 1 florin 50 kreuzer
corresponds to the dreamer's disparagement of her
husband in her suppressed thoughts.
3. Another example displays the arithmetical
powers of dreams, which have brought them into
such disrepute. A man dreams: He is sitting in the
years old."
Since the dream was dreamed in the year
1898, this is obviously bad arithmetic, and the
see. The patient who for some months came next
after him in my consulting-room was a young lady;
he met this lady after he had constantly asked about
her, and he was very anxious to make a good
impression on her. This was the lady whose age he
estimated at 28. So much for explaining the result of
his apparent calculation. But 1882 was the year in
which he had married. He had been unable to refrain
from entering into conversation with the two other
It thus deals with figures, as material for expressing
its intentions, just as it deals with all other concepts,
and with names and speeches which are only verbal
images.
For the dream-work cannot compose a new
speech. No matter how many speeches; and
answers, which may in themselves be sensible or
absurd, may occur in dreams, analysis shows us that
the dream has taken from the dream-thoughts
more distinct and compact ingredients of the dream-
speech may be distinguished from others, which
serve as connectives, and have probably been
supplied, just as we supply omitted letters and
syllables in reading. The dream-speech thus has the
structure of breccia, in which the larger pieces of
various material are held together by a solidified
cohesive medium.
Neurosis behaves in the same fashion. I
Strictly speaking, of course, this description
is correct only for those dream-speeches which have
something of the sensory character of a speech, and
are described as speeches. The others, which have
not, as it were, been perceived as heard or spoken
(which have no accompanying acoustic or motor
emphasis in the dream) are simply thoughts, such
as occur in our waking life, and find their way
unchanged into many of our dreams. Our reading,
dreamer.
We have already found examples of the
derivation of such dream- speeches in the analyses
fragment of the other speech: I don't know that, I
don't take that, precisely fulfils the task of rendering
the dream innocent. On the previous day, the
dreamer, replying to some unreasonable demand on
the part of her cook, had waved her aside with the
words: I don't know that, behave yourself properly,
and she afterwards took into the dream the first,
indifferent-sounding part of the speech in order to
allude to the latter part, which fitted well into the
dreamer pays a visit to his worthy but by no means
appetizing neighbour. The hospitable old lady is just
sitting down to her own supper, and presses him
(among men a composite, sexually significant word
is used jocosely in the place of this word) to taste it.
He declines, saying that he has no appetite. She
replies: "Go on with you, you can manage it all
right," or something of the kind. The dreamer is thus
forced to taste and praise what is offered him. "But
affects in dreams- is more instructive. I dream very
vividly: I have gone to Brucke's laboratory at night,
and on hearing a gentle knocking at the door, I open
it to (the deceased) Professor Fleischl, who enters in
the company of several strangers, and after saying a
few words sits down at his table. Then follows a
second dream: My friend Fl has come to Vienna,
unobtrusively, in July; I meet him in the street, in
conversation with my (deceased) friend P, and I go
becomes pale and blurred, and his eyes turn a sickly
blue- and at last he dissolves. I rejoice greatly at
this; I now understand that Ernst Fleischl, too, is
only an apparition, a revenant, and I find that it is
quite possible that such a person should exist only
so long as one wishes him to, and that he can be
made to disappear by the wish of another person.
This very pretty dream unites so many of
the enigmatical characteristics of the dream-
familiar, would be spoiled. I must therefore be
content to select a few of the elements of the dream
for interpretation, some here, and some at a later
stage.
The scene in which I annihilate P with a
glance forms the centre of the dream. His eyes
become strange and weirdly blue, and then he
dissolves. This scene is an unmistakable imitation of
a scene that was actually experienced. I was a
were wonderfully beautiful even in his old age, and
has ever seen him angered, will readily imagine the
emotions of the young transgressor on that
occasion.
But for a long while I was unable to account
for the Non vixit with which I pass sentence in the
dream. Finally, I remembered that the reason why
these two words were so distinct in the dream was
not because they were heard or spoken, but because
and which was intended to mean: "That fellow has
nothing to say in the matter, he is not really alive."
And I now recalled that the dream was dreamed a
few days after the unveiling of the memorial to
Fleischl, in the cloisters of the University, upon
which occasion I had once more seen the memorial
to Brucke, and must have thought with regret (in
the unconscious) how my gifted friend P, with all his
devotion to science, had by his premature death
affectionate- the former on the surface, the latter
covered up- and both are given representation in
the same words: non vixit. As my friend P has
deserved well of science, I erect a memorial to him;
as he has been guilty of a malicious wish (expressed
at the end of the dream), I annihilate him. I have
here constructed a sentence with a special cadence,
and in doing so I must have been influenced by
some existing model. But where can I find a similar
I am playing Brutus in my dream. If only I could find
in my dream-thoughts another collateral connection
to confirm this! I think it might be the following: My
friend Fl comes to Vienna in July. This detail is not
the case in reality. To my knowledge, my friend has
never been in Vienna in July. But the month of July
is named after Julius Caesar, and might therefore
very well furnish the required allusion to the
intermediate thought- that I am playing the part of
Brutus.[81] -
Strangely enough, I once did actually play
all my later feelings in my intercourse with persons
of my own age. My nephew John has since then had
many incarnations, which have revivified first one
and then another aspect of a character that is
ineradicably fixed in my unconscious memory. At
times he must have treated me very badly, and I
must have opposed my tyrant courageously, for in
later years I was often told of a short speech in
which I defended myself when my father- his
childhood. I shall, as I have said, return to this
dream later on.
Performances in Dreams
I.
Hitherto, in our interpretation of dreams, we
have come upon the element of absurdity in the
dream-content so frequently that we must no longer
postpone the investigation of its cause and its
the psyche.
I will begin with a few examples in which the
absurdity of the dream-content is apparent only,
1. Here is the dream of a patient who had
lost his father six years before the date of the
dream:
His father had been involved in a terrible
accident. He was travelling by the night express
when the train was derailed, the seats were
telescoped, and his head was crushed from side to
side. The dreamer sees him lying on his bed; from
his left eyebrow a wound runs vertically upwards.
quite superfluous to seek for such explanations. The
dreamer had commissioned a sculptor to make a
bust of his father, and he had inspected the bust two
days before the dream. It is this which seems to him
to have come to grief (the German word means
gone wrong or met with an accident). The sculptor
has never seen his father, and has had to work from
photographs. On the very day before the dream the
son had sent an old family servant to the studio in
When his father was thoughtful or depressed, he
had a deep furrow in his forehead just where the
dream shows his wound. The fact that in the dream
this wrinkle is replaced by a wound points to the
second occasion for the dream. The dreamer had
taken a photograph of his little daughter; the plate
had fallen from his hand, and when he picked it up it
revealed a crack which ran like a vertical furrow
across the child's forehead, extending as far as the
say that this semblance of absurdity is admitted or
even desired.
II.
Here is another example of the same kind
from my own dreams (I lost my father in the year
1896):
After his death, my father has played a part
in the political life of the Magyars, and has united
them into a political whole; and here I see,
come true.
Certainly this is absurd enough. It was
dreamed at the time when the Hungarians were in a
beheld in dreams consist of such little pictures is not
without significance for the elucidation of this
element. The customary visual dream-
representations of our thoughts present images that
impress us as being life-size; my dream-picture,
however, is the reproduction of a wood-cut inserted
in the text of an illustrated history of Austria,
representing Maria Theresa in the Reichstag of
Pressburg- the famous scene of Moriamur pro rege
This uplifting of our thoughts prepares us for
the fact that we shall have to deal with this common
fate. The post-mortem rise in temperature
corresponds to the words after his death in the
dream- content. The most agonizing of his afflictions
had been a complete paralysis of the intestines
(obstruction) during the last few weeks of his life. All
sorts of disrespectful thoughts associate themselves
with this. One of my contemporaries, who lost his
dream. To stand after one's death before one's
children great and undefiled: who would not wish
that? What now has become of the absurdity of this
dream? The appearance of absurdity was due only
to the fact that a perfectly permissible figure of
speech, in which we are accustomed to ignore any
absurdity that may exist as between its components,
has been faithfully represented in the dream. Here
again we can hardly deny that the appearance of
situation. Thus, for instance, a young man whose
grandfather has left him a great inheritance dreams
that the old man is alive, and calls his grandson to
account, reproaching him for his lavish expenditure.
What we regard as an objection to the dream on
account of our better knowledge that the man is
already dead, is in reality the consoling thought that
the dead man does not need to learn the truth, or
satisfaction over the fact that he can no longer have
during his last illness, and who felt his death very
keenly, dreamed some time afterwards the following
senseless dream: His father was again living, and
conversing with him as usual, but (and this was the
remarkable thing) he had nevertheless died, though
he did not know it. This dream is intelligible if, after
he had nevertheless died, we insert in consequence
of the dreamer's wish, and if after but he did not
know it, we add that the dreamer had entertained
this wish. While nursing him, the son had often
wished that his father was dead; that is, he had had
As a general thing, the dreams of a
deceased person of whom the dreamer has been
fond confront the interpreter with difficult problems,
the solution of which is not always satisfying. The
reason for this may be sought in the especially
pronounced ambivalence of feeling which controls
the relation of the dreamer to the dead person. In
such dreams it is quite usual for the deceased
person to be treated at first as living; then it
the dream the dreamer is not reminded that the
dead person is dead, he sets himself on a par with
the dead; he dreams of his own death. The sudden
realization or astonishment in the dream ("but he
has long been dead!") is a protest against this
identification, and rejects the meaning that the
dreamer is dead. But I will admit that I feel that
dream-interpretation is far from having elicited all
the secrets of dreams having this content.
III.
made with him a journey that one usually makes by
train. Of this confused and senseless story analysis
gives the following explanation: During the day I
had hired a cab to take me to a remote street in
Dornbach. The driver, however, did not know the
way, and simply kept on driving, in the manner of
such worthy people, until I became aware of the fact
and showed him the way, indulging in a few derisive
remarks. From this driver a train of thought led to
(this finds its way into the dream unchanged) by
rushing him too quickly from place to place, and
making him see too many beautiful things in a single
day. That evening my brother had accompanied me
to the railway station, but shortly before the
carriage had reached the Western station of the
Metropolitan Railway he had jumped out in order to
take the train to Purkersdorf. I suggested to him
that he might remain with me a little longer, as he
nonsense which is hardly disentangled by
elucidation, and which almost constitutes a
contradiction of my earlier speech (of course, I
cannot drive with you on the railway track itself).
But as I have no excuse whatever for confronting
the Metropolitan Railway with the cab, I must
intentionally have given the whole enigmatical story
this peculiar form in my dream.
But with what intention? We shall now learn
somewhat ludicrous figure in my unsuccessful
attempts to find the solutions. They were two puns
turning on the words Nachkommen (to obey orders-
offspring) and Vorfahren (to drive- forefathers,
ancestry). They ran, I believe, as follows:
The coachman does it
At the master's behests;
Everyone has it;
In the grave it rests.
(Vorfahren)
one finds that the sole merit of such aristocratic
gentlemen is that they have taken the trouble to be
born (to become Nachkommen), these two riddles
became intermediary thoughts for the dream-work.
As aristocrats may readily be replaced by coachmen,
and since it was once the custom to call a coachman
Herr Schwager (brother-in-law), the work of
condensation could involve my brother in the same
representation. But the dream-thought at work in
are the motives of one of the dreamer's unconscious
trains of thought. Hence, absurdity is one of the
means by which the dream- work represents
contradiction; another means is the inversion of
material relation between the dream-thoughts and
the dream- content; another is the employment of
the feeling of motor inhibition. But the absurdity of a
dream is not to be translated by a simple no; it is
intended to reproduce the tendency of the dream-
dream. The dream (interpreted without analysis) of
the Wagnerian performance which lasted until 7.45
a.m., and in which the orchestra is conducted from a
tower, etc. (see this chapter, D.), is obviously
saving: It is a crazy world and an insane society. He
who deserves a thing doesn't get it, and he who
doesn't care for it does get it. In this way the
dreamer compares her fate with that of her cousin.
The fact that dreams of a dead father were the first
becoming conscious.
IV.
father:
I receive a communication from the town
council of my native city concerning the cost of
accommodation in the hospital in the year 1851.
This was necessitated by a seizure from which I was
suffering. I make fun of the matter for, in the first
In the light of the foregoing exposition, we
shall translate the insistence with which this dream
exhibits its absurdities as a sure sign of a
particularly embittered and passionate polemic in
the dream-thoughts. All the greater, then, is our
astonishment when we perceive that in this dream
the polemic is waged openly, and that my father is
denoted as the person who is made a laughing-
stock. Such frankness seems to contradict our
condition of affairs by considering the occasion of
the dream. It was dreamed after I had heard that an
older colleague, whose judgment was considered
infallible, had expressed disapproval and
astonishment on hearing that one of my patients
had already been undergoing psychoanalytic
treatment at my hands for five years. The
introductory sentences of the dream allude in a
transparently disguised manner to the fact that this
anyone who can get on any faster? Does he not
know that conditions of this sort are usually
incurable and last for life? What are four or five
years in comparison to a whole lifetime, especially
when life has been made so much easier for the
patient during the treatment?
The impression of absurdity in this dream is
brought about largely by the fact that sentences
from different divisions of the dream-thoughts are
recognition of his merits, he is held up as an
example to others. It is in the nature of every
censorship that one is permitted to tell untruths
about forbidden things rather than the truth. The
next sentence, to the effect that my father
remembers that he was once drink, and was locked
up in consequence, contains nothing that really
relates to my father any more. The person who is
screened by him is here a no less important
during his last illness, and asked him how he felt, he
described his condition at some length, and
concluded with the words: "You know, I have always
been one of the prettiest cases of masculine
hysteria." Thus, to my satisfaction, and to my
astonishment, he admitted what he so long and so
stubbornly denied. But the fact that in this scene of
my dream I can use my father to screen Meynert is
explained not by any discovered analogy between
whatever. But it is just this one of the dream-
thoughts that requires expression. Four or five
years- that is precisely the length of time during
which I enjoyed the support of the colleague
mentioned at the outset; but it is also the duration
of time I kept my fiance waiting before I married
her; and by a coincidence that is eagerly exploited
by the dream- thoughts, it is also the time I have
kept my oldest patient waiting for a complete cure.
a few days earlier to a professorship for which he
had long been waiting.
V.
Another absurd dream which plays with
figures:
An acquaintance of mine, Herr M, has been
attacked in an essay by no less a person than
Goethe and, as we all think, with unjustifiable
vehemence. Herr M is, of course, crushed by this
We shall soon find the means of justifying
the nonsense of this dream. Herr M, with whom I
became acquainted at a dinner-party, had recently
asked me to examine his brother, who showed signs
of general paralysis. The conjecture was right; the
painful thing about this visit was that the patient
gave his brother away by alluding to his youthful
pranks, though our conversation gave him no
occasion to do so. I had asked the patient to tell me
had a right to interfere, and called the editor to
account; he greatly regretted his acceptance of the
review, but he would not promise any redress. I
thereupon broke off my relations with the periodical,
and in my letter of resignation I expressed the hope
that our personal relations would not suffer as a
result of the incident. The third source of this dream
is an account given by a female patient- it was fresh
in my memory at the time- of the psychosis of her
If I add, further, that the book of my so
severely criticized friend ("One asks oneself whether
the author or oneself is crazy" had been the opinion
of another critic) treats of the temporal conditions of
life, and refers the duration of Goethe's life to the
multiple of a number significant from the biological
point of view, it will readily be admitted that in my
dream I am putting myself in my friend's place. (I
try to elucidate the temporal relations a little.) But I
But I have further promised to show that no
dream is inspired by other than egoistical motives.
Accordingly, I must account for the fact that in this
dream I make my friend's cause my own, and put
myself in his place. My critical conviction in waking
life would not justify my doing so. Now, the story of
the eighteen- year-old patient, and the divergent
interpretations of his cry, "Nature," allude to the fact
that I have put myself into opposition to the
VI.
I have to show that yet another dream in
which my ego does not appear is none the less
egoistic. In chapter V., D., I referred to a short
dream in which Professor M says: "My son, the
myopic..."; and I stated that this was only a
preliminary dream, preceding another in which I
play a part. Here is the main dream, previously
omitted, which challenges us to explain its absurd
eldest boy for a parting kiss. She is remarkable for a
red nose. The boy refuses her the kiss, but says to
her, extending her his hand in parting, "Auf
Geseres," and to both of us (or to one of us) "Auf
Ungeseres." I have the idea that this indicates a
preference.
This dream is built upon a tangle of thoughts
induced by a play I saw at the theatre, called Das
neue Ghetto (The New Ghetto). The Jewish
thoughts.
"By the waters of Babylon we sat down and
wept." Siena, like Rome, is famous for its beautiful
building, which we learned was the Manicomio, the
insane asylum. Shortly before the dream I had
heard that a co-religionist had been forced to resign
a position, which he had secured with great effort, in
a State asylum.
Our interest is aroused by the speech: "Auf
Geseres," where one might expect, from the
situation continued throughout the dream, "Auf
Wiedersehen" (Au revoir), and by its quite
Geseres- opens the way to the associations, and
therewith to understanding. This relation holds good
in the case of caviar; the unsalted kind is more
highly prized than the salted. "Caviar to the
general"- "noble passions." Herein lies concealed a
jesting allusion to a member of my household, of
whom I hope- for she is younger than I- that she
will watch over the future of my children; this, too,
agrees with the fact that another member of my
from Berlin and myself, had strolled about the
streets of Breslau, a city which was strange to us,
during the last days of Easter. A little girl asked me
the way to a certain street; I had to tell her that I
did not know it; I then remarked to my friend, "I
hope that later on in life the child will show more
perspicacity in selecting the persons whom she
allows to direct her." Shortly afterwards a sign
caught my eye: "Dr. Herod, consulting hours..." I
contracted an affection of the eye which, according
to the doctor, gave some cause for anxiety. He
expressed the opinion that so long as it was
confined to one eye it was of no great significance,
but that if it should extend to the other eye it would
be serious. The affection subsided in the one eye
without leaving any ill effects; shortly afterwards,
however, the same symptoms did actually appear in
the other eye. The boy's terrified mother
the wishes that may be connected with this
transference may now be readily guessed. This
school-bench is intended by its construction to guard
the child from becoming shortsighted and one-sided.
Hence myopia (and behind it the Cyclops), and the
discussion about bilateralism. The fear of one-
sidedness has a twofold significance; it might mean
not only physical one-sidedness, but intellectual
one-sidedness also. Does it not seem as though the
was intended was more likely to tolerate it if he was
able to laugh at it, and to flatter himself with the
comment that what he disliked was obviously
absurd. Dreams behave in real life as does the
prince in the play who is obliged to pretend to be a
madman, and hence we may say of dreams what
Hamlet said of himself, substituting an unintelligible
jest for the actual truth: "I am but mad north-
northwest; when the wind is southerly I know a
translate the dream-thoughts, observing the four
conditions prescribed, and that the question whether
the mind goes to work in dreams with all its
intellectual faculties, or with only part of them, is
wrongly stated, and does not meet the actual state
of affairs. But since there are plenty of dreams in
which judgments are passed, criticisms made, and
facts recognized in which astonishment at some
individual element of the dream appears, and
examples.
My answer is as follows: Everything in
judgments which are passed upon the dream as it is
remembered after waking, and the feelings which
are aroused by the reproduction of the dream,
belong largely to the latent dream- content, and
must be fitted into place in the interpretation of the
dream.
1. One striking example of this has already
been given. A female patient does not wish to relate
her dream because it was too vague. She saw a
find in the dream-thoughts the after-effect of a story
heard in youth; namely, that a girl had given birth
to a child, and that it was not clear who was the
father. The dream-representation here overlaps into
the waking thought, and allows one of the elements
of the dream-thoughts to be represented by a
judgment, formed in the waking state, of the whole
dream.
2. A similar case: One of my patients has a
experience:
gardens. Thereupon I have an idea that I have
already seen this locality several times in my
dreams. I do not know my way very well; P shows
me a way which leads round a corner to a restaurant
(indoor); here I ask for Frau Doni, and I hear that
she is living at the back of the house, in a small
room, with three children. I go there, and on the
way I meet an undefined person with my two little
girls. After I have been with them for a while, I take
outstripped me both socially and financially, but his
marriage has remained childless. Of this the two
occasions of the dream give proof on complete
analysis. On the previous day I had read in the
newspaper the obituary notice of a certain Frau
Dona A- y (which I turn into Doni), who had died in
childbirth; I was told by my wife that the dead
woman had been nursed by the same midwife whom
she herself had employed at the birth of our two
so like Garibaldi, and I am glad that it has really
come true... (Followed by a forgotten continuation.)
I can now supply from the analysis what should fill
this gap. It is the mention of my second boy, to
whom I have given the baptismal name of an
eminent historical personage who attracted me
greatly during my boyhood, especially during my
stay in England. I had to wait for a year before I
could fulfil my intention of using this name if the
with this the allusion Stuhlrichter (presiding judge)
and the wish of the dream: to stand before one's
children great and undefiled.
5. If I should now have to look for examples
of judgments or expressions of opinion which remain
in the dream itself, and are not continued in, or
transferred to, our waking thoughts, my task would
be greatly facilitated were I to take my examples
from dreams which have already been cited for
dreams.
But I know from analysis that these acts of
judgment, which seem to have been performed in
the dream for the first time, admit of a different
construction, in the light of which they become
indispensable for interpreting the dream, while at
the same time all absurdity is avoided. With the
sentence I try to elucidate the temporal relations a
little, I put myself in the place of my friend, who is
judgment was expressed, but in reality, not in a
dream, and on an occasion which is remembered
and utilized by the dream-thoughts. The dream-
content appropriates this judgment like any other
fragment of the dream-thoughts.
The number 18 with which the judgment in
the dream is meaninglessly connected still retains a
trace of the context from which the real judgment
was taken. Lastly, the I do not know exactly what is
established.
In the solution of these apparent acts of
for the purposes of investigation must be broken up
into its elements. On the other hand, we become
alive to the fact that there is a psychic force which
expresses itself in our dreams and establishes this
apparent coherence; that is, the material obtained
by the dream- work undergoes a secondary
elaboration. Here we have the manifestations of that
psychic force which we shall presently take into
consideration as the fourth of the factors which co-
operate in dream-formation.
6. Let us now look for other examples of
the sentence which dominates the dream-thoughts
is as follows: Four or five years- that is no time at
all- that need not be counted. But every part of this
chain of reasoning may be seen to be otherwise
determined from the dream- thoughts, as regards
both its content and its form. It is the patient of
whose patience my colleague complains who intends
to marry immediately the treatment is ended. The
manner in which I converse with my father in this
material in the dream-thoughts. From this we learn
something new. If an inference occurs in the dream-
content, it assuredly comes from the dream-
thoughts; but it may be contained in these as a
fragment of remembered material, or it may serve
as the logical connective of a series of dream-
thoughts. In any case, an inference in the dream
represents an inference taken from the dream-
thoughts.[89]
the dream-thoughts with which I defiantly meet my
critics: "Even though you won't believe it, because I
am taking my time, I shall reach the conclusion
(German, Schluss = end, conclusion, inference). It
has often happened like that."
In its introductory portion, this dream
contains several sentences which, we can hardly
deny, are of the nature of an argument. And this
argument is not at all absurd; it might just as well
shall understand that the dream-thought has every
occasion to create a flawless refutation of an
unreasonable demand, in accordance with the
pattern contained in the dream-thoughts. But the
analysis shows that in this case the dream-work has
not been required to make a free imitation, but that
material taken from the dream-thoughts had to be
employed for the purpose. It is as though in an
algebraic equation there should occur, besides the
trace upon the emotional life of subsequent
neuropaths, and that these impressions- although
greatly distorted and exaggerated by the memory-
may furnish the earliest and profoundest basis of a
hysterical symptom. Patients to whom I explain this
at a suitable moment are wont to parody my
explanation by offering to search for reminiscences
of the period when they were not yet born. My
disclosure of the unsuspected part played by the
wish-fulfilment that precisely the material of those
inferences, which I fear will be contested, should be
utilized by the dream-work for establishing
incontestable conclusions.
7. In one dream, which I have hitherto only
touched upon, astonishment at the subject emerging
is distinctly expressed at the outset.
The elder Brucke must have set me some
task or other; strangely enough, it relates to the
my legs, and I made a journey through the city, but
I took a cab (as I was tired). To my astonishment,
the cab drove into the front door of a house, which
opened and allowed it to pass into a corridor, which
was broken off at the end, and eventually led on into
the open.[91] Finally I wandered through changing
landscapes, with an Alpine guide, who carried my
things. He carried me for some distance, out of
consideration for my tired legs. The ground was
up men lying upon wooden benches which were
fixed on the walls of the hut, and something like two
sleeping children next to them; as though not the
planks but the children were intended to make the
crossing possible. I awoke with terrified thoughts.
Anyone who his been duly impressed by the
extensive nature of dream-condensation will readily
imagine what a number of pages the exhaustive
analysis of this dream would fill. Fortunately for the
works are still unwritten." "Well, when are you going
to publish your so-called 'latest revelations,' which,
you promised us, even we should be able to read?"
she asks, rather sarcastically. I now perceive that
she is a mouthpiece for someone else, and I am
silent. I think of the effort it cost me to make public
even my work on dreams, in which I had to
surrender so much of my own intimate nature. ("The
best that you know you can't tell the boys.") The
strangely enough applies to this book, and to
another by the same author, The Heart of the
World; and numerous elements of the dream are
taken from these two fantastic romances. The
swampy ground over which the dreamer is carried,
the chasm which has to be crossed by means of
planks, come from She; the Red Indians, the girl,
and the wooden house, from The Heart of the World.
In both novels a woman is the leader, and both treat
in the dream- thoughts. The wooden house is
assuredly also a coffin- that is, the grave. But in
representing this most unwished-for of all thoughts
by means of a wish-fulfilment, the dream-work has
achieved its masterpiece. I was once in a grave, but
it was an empty Etruscan grave near Orvieto- a
narrow chamber with two stone benches on the
walls, upon which were lying the skeletons of two
adults. The interior of the wooden house in the
way to representation: a fresh allusion to the
strange romance in which the identity of a character
is preserved through a series of generations
covering two thousand years.
8. in the context of another dream there is a
similar expression of astonishment at what is
experienced in the dream. This, however, is
connected with such a striking, far-fetched, and
almost intellectual attempt at explanation that if
these men are preserved. I should like to leave the
train, but I hesitate to do so. There are women with
fruit on the platform; they squat on the ground, and
in that position invitingly hold up their baskets.- I
hesitated, in doubt as to whether we have time, but
here we are still stationary.- I am suddenly in
another compartment in which the leather and the
seats are so narrow that one's spine directly touches
the back.[92] I am surprised at this, but I may have
While writing down the dream, a part of it
occurs to me which my memory wished to pass
over. I tell the brother and sister (in English),
referring to a certain book: "It is from..." but I
correct myself: "It is by..." The man remarks to his
sister: "He said it correctly."
The dream begins with the name of a
station, which seems to have almost waked me. For
this name, which was Marburg, I substitute
they were sitting side by side (with their backs to
the engine), the woman before my eyes hastened to
pre-empt the seat opposite her, and next to the
window, with her umbrella; the door was
immediately closed, and pointed remarks about the
opening of windows were exchanged. Probably I was
quickly recognized as a person hungry for fresh air.
It was a hot night, and the atmosphere of the
compartment, closed on both sides, was almost
companions; no one would suspect what insults and
humiliations are concealed behind the disjointed
fragments of the first half of the dream. After this
need has been satisfied, the second wish, to
exchange my compartment for another, makes itself
felt. The dream changes its scene so often, and
without making the slightest objection to such
changes, that it would not have seemed at all
remarkable had I at once, from my memories,
sign whatever, until at some stage of their journey
they come to themselves, and are surprised by the
gap in their memory. Thus, while I am still
dreaming, I declare my own case to be such a case
of automatisme ambulatoire.
Analysis permits of another solution. The
attempt at explanation, which so surprises me if I
am to attribute it to the dream-work, is not original,
but is copied from the neurosis of one of my
pursuing glance, he was left with a feeling of
distress and the idea that he might possibly have
made away with the man. Behind this obsessive idea
was concealed, among other things, a Cain-
phantasy, for "all men are brothers." Owing to the
impossibility of accomplishing this task, he gave up
going for walks, and spent his life imprisoned within
his four walls. But reports of murders which had
been committed in the world outside were
his hands, even if he demanded it.
This, then, is the origin of the attempted
explanation that I may have changed carriages while
in an unconscious state; it has been taken into the
dream ready-made, from the material of the dream-
thoughts, and is evidently intended to identify me
with the person of my patient. My memory of this
patient was awakened by natural association. My
last night journey had been made a few weeks
travelling companions had acted so uncivilly towards
me because my arrival on the scene had prevented
them from exchanging kisses and embraces during
the night, as they had intended. This phantasy,
however, goes back to an early incident of my
childhood when, probably impelled by sexual
curiosity, I had intruded into my parents' bedroom,
and was driven thence by my father's emphatic
command.
appear to co-operate constantly in the formation of
dreams, yet endeavours to fuse the dream-elements
of different origin into a flawless and significant
whole. We consider it necessary, however, first of all
to consider the expressions of affect which appear in
dreams, and to compare these with the affects
which analysis discovers in the dream-thoughts.
Footnotes
Conceptions of Psychoanalysis.
[79] The inscription in fact reads:
Saluti publicae vixit
non diu sed totus.
[80] As an example of over-determination:
My excuse for coming late was that after working
late into the night, in the morning I had to make the
long journey from Kaiser-Josef-Strasse to Wahringer
Strasse.
[81] And also, Caesar = Kaiser.
Years War.
IV.
[84] Here the dream-work parodies the
thought which it qualifies as ridiculous, in that it
creates something ridiculous in relation to it. Heine
does the same thing when he wishes to deride the
bad rhymes of the King of Bavaria. He does it by
using even worse rhymes:
[85] This dream furnishes a good example in
support of the universally valid doctrine that dreams
country.
not my funeral," or "That's not due to my own
efforts."- TR.
[87] The injunction or resolve already
contained in the dream: "I must tell that to the
doctor," when it occurs in dreams during psycho-
analytic treatment, is constantly accompanied by a
great resistance to confessing the dream, and is not
infrequently followed by the forgetting of the dream.
[88] A subject which has been extensively
other tenants stand; it is also otherwise hyper-
determined several times over.
[92] This description is not intelligible even
to myself, but I follow the principle of reproducing
the dream in those words which occur to me while I
am writing it down. The wording itself is a part of
the dream-representation.
[93] Schiller was not born in one of the
Marbergs, but in Marbach, as every German
CHAPTER 6 (Part 4)
THE DREAM-WORK
H. The Affects in Dreams
A shrewd remark of Stricker's called our
attention to the fact that the expressions of affects
in dreams cannot be disposed of in the
contemptuous fashion in which we are wont to
shake off the dream-content after we have waked.
"If I am afraid of robbers in my dreams, the
robbers, to be sure, are imaginary, but the fear of
them is real"; and the same thing is true if I rejoice
in my dream. According to the testimony of our
The fact that in dreams the ideational
content does not always produce the affective result
which in our waking thoughts we should expect as
its necessary consequence has always been a cause
of astonishment. Strumpell declared that ideas in
dreams are stripped of their psychic values. But
there is no lack of instances in which the reverse is
true; when an intensive manifestation of affect
appears in a content which seems to offer no
unchanged. No wonder, then, that the ideational
content which has been altered by dream-distortion
no longer fits the affect which has remained intact;
and no cause for wonder when analysis has put the
correct content into its original place.[94]
In a psychic complex which has been
subjected to the influence of the resisting
censorship, the affects are the unyielding
constituent, which alone can guide us to the correct
themselves in vain, because they make this
conceptual content the starting-point of their
thought-work. Psycho-analysis, however, puts them
on the right path, inasmuch as it recognizes that, on
the contrary, it is the affect that is justified, and
looks for the concept which pertains to it, and which
has been repressed by a substitution. All that we
need assume is that the liberation of affect and the
conceptual content do not constitute the indissoluble
I.
The dreamer sees three lions in a desert,
one of which is laughing, but she is not afraid of
them. Then, however, she must have fled from
them, for she is trying to climb a tree. But she finds
that her cousin, the French teacher, is already up in
the tree, etc.
The analysis yields the following material:
The indifferent occasion of the dream was a
sentence in the dreamer's English exercise: "The
lion's greatest adornment is his mane." Her father
a very amusing, but not very proper anecdote about
an official who is asked why he does not take
greater pains to win the favour of his chief, and who
replies that he has been trying to creep into favour,
but that his immediate superior was already up
there. The whole matter becomes intelligible as soon
as one learns that on the dream-day the lady had
received a visit from her husband's superior. He was
very polite to her, and kissed her hand, and she was
II.
unmoved we know from the analysis. The dream
only disguised her wish to see once more the man
she loved; the affect had to be attuned to the wish,
and not to its disguisement. There was thus no
occasion for sorrow.
In a number of dreams the affect does at
least remain connected with the conceptual content
which has replaced the content really belonging to
it. In others, the dissolution of the complex is
I will illustrate the latter possibility by the
following dream, which I have subjected to the most
exhaustive analysis.
III.
A castle by the sea; afterwards it lies not
directly on the coast, but on a narrow canal leading
to the sea. A certain Herr P is the governor of the
castle. I stand with him in a large salon with three
windows, in front of which rise the projections of a
dead. I have probably taxed him unnecessarily with
my questions. After his death, which makes no
further impression upon me, I consider whether the
widow is to remain in the castle, whether I should
give notice of the death to the higher command,
whether I should take over the control of the castle
as the next in command. I now stand at the window,
and scrutinize the ships as they pass by; they are
cargo steamers, and they rush by over the dark
breakfast ship."
The rapid motion of the ships, the deep blue
of the water, the brown smoke of the funnels- all
these together produce an intense and gloomy
impression.
The localities in this dream are compiled
from several journeys to the Adriatic (Miramare,
Duino, Venice, Aquileia). A short but enjoyable
Easter trip to Aquileia with my brother, a few weeks
way that any obvious contradiction is avoided. For
there is no reason why I should be frightened at the
governor's death, and it is fitting that, as the
commander of the castle, I should be alarmed by
the sight of the warship. Now analysis shows that
Herr P is nothing but a substitute for my own ego (in
the dream I am his substitute). I am the governor
who suddenly dies. The dream-thoughts deal with
the future of my family after my premature death.
reception; and suddenly my wife cried, happy as a
child: "Here comes the English warship!" In the
dream I am frightened by the very same words;
once more we see that speeches in dreams have
their origin in speeches in real life. I shall presently
show that even the element English in this speech
has not been lost for the dream-work. Here, then,
between the dream-thoughts and the dream-
content, I turn joy into fright, and I need only point
dream-object, I am impressed after the event by the
fact that it was black. and that by reason of its
truncation at its widest beam it achieved, at the
truncated end, a considerable resemblance to an
object which had aroused our interest in the
museums of the Etruscan cities. This object was a
rectangular cup of black clay, with two handles,
upon which stood things like coffee-cups or tea-
cups, very similar to our modern service for the
associated with the return of the ships in the dream.
"Silently on his rescued boat the old man
drifts into harbour."
It is the return voyage after the shipwreck
(German: Schiff-bruch = ship-breaking); the
breakfast ship looks as though it were broken off
amidships. But whence comes the name breakfast
ship? This is where English comes in, which we have
left over from the warships. Breakfast, a breaking of
black (mourning).
the direction of Grado, we had breakfast on deck in
the highest spirits- we were the only passengers-
and it tasted to us as few breakfasts have ever
tasted. This, then, was the breakfast ship, and it is
behind this very recollection of the gayest joie de
vivre that the dream hides the saddest thoughts of
an unknown and mysterious future.
The detachment of affects from the groups
of ideas which have occasioned their liberation is the
the most intense psychic impulses are constantly
striving in them for self- assertion, usually in conflict
with others which are sharply opposed to them.
Now, if I turn back to the dream. I often find it
colourless and devoid of any very intensive affective
tone. Not only the content, but also the affective
tone of my thoughts is often reduced by the dream-
work to the level of the indifferent. I might say that
a suppression of the affects has been accomplished
itself; but we will first of all consider the
unquestioned fact that so many dreams appear
indifferent, whereas it is never possible to go deeply
into the dream-thoughts without deep emotion.
The complete theoretical explanation of this
suppression of affects during the dream-work cannot
be given here; it would require a most careful
investigation of the theory of the affects and of the
mechanism of repression. Here I can put forward
no stronger. According to this line of thought, the
suppression of the affects would not be a
consequence of the dream-work at all, but a
consequence of the state of sleep. This may be so,
but it cannot possibly be all the truth. We must
remember that all the more complex dreams have
revealed themselves as the result of a compromise
between conflicting psychic forces. On the one hand,
the wish-forming thoughts have to oppose the
first consequence.
I will here insert an example of a dream in
which the indifferent emotional tone of the dream-
content may be explained by the antagonism of the
dream-thoughts. I must relate the following short
dream, which every reader will read with disgust.
IV.
Rising ground, and on it something like an
open-air latrine; a very long bench, at the end of
the formation of this dream. Upon analysing it, I
immediately think of the Augean stables which were
cleansed by Hercules. I am this Hercules. The rising
ground and the thicket belong to Aussee, where my
children are now staying. I have discovered the
infantile aetiology of the neuroses, and have thus
guarded my own children from falling ill. The bench
(omitting the aperture, of course) is the faithful copy
of a piece of furniture of which an affectionate
of Master Rabelais, takes vengeance upon the
Parisians, straddling Notre-Dame and training his
stream of urine upon the city. Only yesterday I was
turning over the leaves of Garnier's illustrations to
Rabelais before I went to bed. And, strangely
enough, here is another proof that I am the
superman! The platform of Notre-Dame was my
favourite nook in Paris; every free afternoon I used
to go up into the towers of the cathedral and there
therapeutics of hysteria.
And now as to the affective occasion of the
dream. It had been a hot summer afternoon; in the
tired; I took not the least pleasure in my difficult
work, and longed to get away from this rummaging
in human filth; first to see my children, and then to
revisit the beauties of Italy. In this mood I went
from the lecture-hall to a cafe to get some little
refreshment in the open air, for my appetite had
forsaken me. But a member of my audience went
with me; he begged for permission to sit with me
while I drank my coffee and gulped down my roll,
The dream had originated from this material,
and Meyer's novel had supplied the recollections of
scenes of childhood.[95] The day's mood of
annoyance and disgust is continued in the dream,
inasmuch as it is permitted to furnish nearly all the
material for the dream-content. But during the night
the opposite mood of vigorous, even immoderate
self-assertion awakened and dissipated the earlier
mood. The dream had to assume such a form as
emotional tone.
According to the theory of wish-fulfilment,
this dream would not have been possible had not
elements of our daily thoughts are able to force their
way into our dreams only if at the same time they
are able to disguise a wish-fulfilment.
The dream-work is able to dispose of the
affects of the dream- thoughts in yet another way
than by admitting them or reducing them to zero. It
can transform them into their opposites. We are
acquainted with the rule that for the purposes of
interpretation every element of the dream may
fulfilment, for wish-fulfilment consists in nothing
more than the substitution of an unwelcome thing
by its opposite. Just as concrete images may be
transformed into their contraries in our dreams, so
also may the affects of the dream-thoughts, and it is
probable that this inversion of affects is usually
brought about by the dream-censorship. The
suppression and inversion of affects is useful even in
social life, as is shown by the familiar analogy of the
affects. and if I am a master of the art of
dissimulation I can hypocritically display the
opposite affect- smiling where I should like to be
angry, and pretending affection where I should like
to destroy.
We have already had an excellent example
of such an inversion of affect in the service of the
dream-censorship. In the dream of my uncle's beard
I feel great affection for my friend R, while (and
continuation of the dream would suggest), for owing
to the peculiar nature of my earliest childhood
experiences the relation of uncle and nephew has
become the source of all my friendships and hatreds
(cf. analysis chapter VI., F.).
An excellent example of such a reversal of
affect is found in a dream recorded by Ferenczi.[96]
"An elderly gentleman was awakened at night by his
wife, who was frightened because he laughed so
until I woke. The following day the man was
extremely depressed, and suffered from headache:
'From too much laughter, which shook me up,' he
thought.
"Analytically considered, the dream looks
less comical. In the latent dream-thoughts the
gentleman known to him who came into the room is
the image of death as the 'great unknown,' which
was awakened in his mind on the previous day. The
into a comic scene, and the sobbing into laughter."
There is one class of dreams which has a
special claim to be called hypocritical, and which
severely tests the theory of wish- fulfilment. My
attention was called to them when Frau Dr. M.
Hilferding proposed for discussion by the
Psychoanalytic Society of Vienna a dream recorded
by Rosegger, which is here reprinted:
In Waldheimat, vol. xi, Rosegger writes as
fellow, I hardly gave a thought to my nocturnal
dreams; only later, when I had formed the habit of
thinking about everything, or when the Philistine
within me began to assert itself a little, did it strike
me that- when I dreamed at all- I was always a
journeyman tailor, and that in that capacity I had
already worked in my master's shop for a long time
without any pay. As I sat there beside him, and
sewed and pressed, I was perfectly well aware that I
master took no notice of me, and next time I was
sitting beside him again and sewing.
"How happy I was when I woke up after
such weary hours! And I then resolved that, if this
intrusive dream should ever occur again, I would
energetically throw it off, and would cry aloud: 'It is
only a delusion, I am lying in bed, and I want to
sleep'... And the next night I would be sitting in the
tailor's shop again.
make room for him on the bench. I moved into the
corner, and kept on sewing. On the same day
another journeyman was engaged; a bigoted fellow;
he was the Bohemian who had worked for us
nineteen years earlier, and then had fallen into the
lake on his way home from the public-house. When
he tried to sit down there was no room for him. I
looked at the master inquiringly, and he said to me:
'You have no talent for tailoring; you may go; you're
often and so deeply been conscious of contemplative
human happiness. And yet I was vexed that I had
not given my master notice first, but had been
dismissed by him.
"And how remarkable this seems to me:
since that night, when my master 'made a stranger'
of me, I have enjoyed restful sleep; I no longer
dream of my tailoring days, which now lie in the
remote past: which in their unpretentious simplicity
life."
doctor, I worked for a long time in the Chemical
Institute without being able to accomplish anything
in that exacting science, so that in the waking state
I never think about this unfruitful and actually
somewhat humiliating period of my student days. On
the other hand, I have a recurring dream to the
effect that I am working in the laboratory, making
analyses, and experiments, and so forth; these
dreams, like the examination-dreams, are
journeyman tailor who became a celebrated poet.
But how is it possible for a dream to place itself at
the service of self- criticism in its conflict with
parvenu pride, and to take as its content a rational
warning instead of a prohibited wish- fulfilment? I
have already hinted that the answer to this question
presents many difficulties. We may conclude that
the foundation of the dream consisted at first of an
arrogant phantasy of ambition; but that in its stead
element. In an indistinct, subordinate portion of one
of my laboratory dreams, I was just at the age
which placed me in the most gloomy and most
unsuccessful year of my professional career; I still
had no position, and no idea how I was going to
support myself, when I suddenly found that I had
the choice of several women whom I might marry! I
was, therefore, young again and, what is more, she
was young again- the woman who has shared with
Another group of dreams, which I have often
myself experienced, and which I have recognized to
be hypocritical, have as their content a reconciliation
with persons with whom one has long ceased to
have friendly relations. The analysis constantly
discovers an occasion which might well induce me to
cast aside the last remnants of consideration for
these former friends, and to treat them as strangers
or enemies. But the dream chooses to depict the
contrary relation.
In considering dreams recorded by a novelist
become a hero, and has married the king's
daughter, dreams one night while lying beside the
princess, his wife, about his trade; having become
suspicious, on the following night she places armed
guards where they can listen to what is said by the
dreamer, and arrest him. But the little tailor is
warned, and is able to correct his dream.
The complicated processes of removal,
diminution, and inversion by which the affects of the
V.
self- analyses which I perform, as it were, by
publishing my book on dreams, which I actually
found so painful that I postponed the printing of the
completed manuscript for more than a year. The
wish now arises that I may disregard this feeling of
aversion, and for that reason I feel no horror
(Grauen, which also means to grow grey) in the
dream. I should much like to escape Grauen in the
other sense too, for I am already growing quite
by the conviction that "that which has been
announced by a premonitory sign" is now going to
happen, and the satisfaction is that which I felt on
the arrival of my second son. Here the same affects
that dominated in the dream-thoughts have
remained in the dream, but the process is probably
not quite so simple as this in any dream. If the two
analyses are examined a little more closely it will be
seen that this satisfaction, which does not succumb
moral side of my nature does not give way to this
impulse; I do not dare to express this sinister wish,
and when something does happen to him which he
does not deserve I suppress my satisfaction, and
force myself to thoughts and expressions of regret.
Everyone will at some time have found himself in
such a position. But now let it happen that the hated
person, through some transgression of his own,
draws upon himself a well-deserved calamity; I shall
unpopular minority have been guilty of some
offence. Their punishment is then usually
commensurate not with their guilt, but with their
guilt plus the ill-will against them that has hitherto
not been put into effect. Those who punish them
doubtless commit an injustice, but they are
prevented from becoming aware of it by the
satisfaction arising from the release within
themselves of a suppression of long standing. In
from unconscious and hitherto suppressed affective
sources which are able to establish an associative
connection with the actual occasion, and for whose
liberation of affect the unprotested and permitted
source of affects opens up the desired path. Our
attention is thus called to the fact that the relation
of mutual inhibition must not be regarded as the
only relation obtaining between the suppressed and
the suppressing psychic institution. The cases in
under this pressure, would have yielded not
gratification but the contrary affect, had it not been
enabled by the presence of the first dream-source to
free its gratification-affect from repression, and
reinforce the gratification springing from the other
source. Hence affects which appear in dreams
appear to be formed by the confluence of several
tributaries, and are over-determined in respect of
the material of the dream-thoughts. Sources of
it.[98]
of words. At the end of the dream I am greatly
pleased, and am quite ready to believe in a
possibility which I recognize as absurd when I am
awake, namely, that there are revenants who can be
swept away by a mere wish.
I have not yet mentioned the occasion of
this dream. It is an important one, and leads us far
down into the meaning of the dream. From my
friend in Berlin (whom I have designated as Fl) I had
sister, and says: "In three- quarters of an hour she
was dead.") I must have imagined that his own
constitution was not much stronger, and that I
should soon be travelling, in spite of my health, in
response to far worse news- and that I should arrive
too late, for which I should eternally reproach
myself.[99] This reproach, that I should arrive too
late, has become the central point of the dream, but
it has been represented in a scene in which the
excused on account of my illness- all this builds up
an emotional tempest which is distinctly felt in my
sleep, and which rages in that region of the dream-
thoughts.
But there was another thing in the occasion
of the dream which had quite the opposite effect.
With the unfavourable news during the first days of
the operation I received also an injunction to speak
to no one about the whole affair, which hurt my
of course, had nothing to do with the affairs of my
friend Fl, but I have never forgotten the reproaches
to which I had to listen on that occasion. One of the
two friends between whom I made trouble was
Professor Fleischl; the other one I will call by his
baptismal name, Josef, a name which was borne
also by my friend and antagonist P, who appears in
this dream.
In the dream the element unobtrusively
condensation and displacement in this dream, as
well as the motives for it, are now obvious.
My present trivial annoyance at the
injunction not to divulge secrets draws
reinforcement from springs that flow far beneath the
surface, and so swells to a stream of hostile
impulses towards persons who are in reality dear to
me. The source which furnishes the reinforcement is
to be found in my childhood. I have already said
a hated enemy have always been indispensable to
my emotional life; I have always been able to create
them anew, and not infrequently my childish ideal
has been so closely approached that friend and
enemy have coincided in the same person; but not
simultaneously, of course, nor in constant
alternation, as was the case in my early childhood.
How, when such associations exist, a recent
occasion of emotion may cast back to the infantile
therefore has the first right to it. We come to blows;
Might comes before Right; and, according to the
indications of the dream, I must have known that I
was in the wrong (noticing the error myself); but
this time I am the stronger, and take possession of
the battlefield; the defeated combatant hurries to
my father, his grandfather, and accuses me, and I
defend myself with the words, which I have heard
from my father: "I hit him because he hit me." Thus,
are opened through which these thoughts flow back
again into the dream- representation. For such an
"ote-toi que je m'y mette,"[100] I once had to
reproach my deceased friend Josef. He was next to
me in the line of promotion in Brucke's laboratory,
but advancement there was very slow. Neither of
the two assistants budged from his place, and youth
became impatient. My friend, who knew that his
days were numbered, and was bound by no intimate
may readily be understood, the dream inflicts this
inconsiderate wish not upon me, but upon my
friend.[101]
"As he was ambitious, I slew him." As he
could not expect that the other man would make
way for him, the man himself has been put out of
the way. I harbour these thoughts immediately after
attending the unveiling of the memorial to the other
man at the University. Part of the satisfaction which
I claim the field." Such a thought, at the moment
when I fear that if I make a journey to see him I
shall find my friend no longer among the living,
permits only of the further development that I am
glad once more to have survived someone; that it is
not I who have died but he; that I am master of the
field, as once I was in the imagined scene of my
childhood. This satisfaction, infantile in origin, at the
fact that I am master of the field, covers the greater
wants them, and that they can be obliterated by a
wish. It was for this reason that my friend Josef was
punished. But the revenants are the successive
incarnations of the friend of my childhood; I am also
gratified at having replaced this person for myself
over and over again, and a substitute will doubtless
soon be found even for the friend whom I am now
on the point of losing. No one is irreplaceable.
But what has the dream-censorship been
friendship; is it not good that substitutes have
presented themselves, that I have gained a friend
who means more to me than the others could, and
whom I shall now always retain, at an age when it is
not easy to form new friendships?" The gratification
of having found this substitute for my lost friend can
be taken over into the dream without interference,
but behind it there sneaks in the hostile feeling of
malicious gratification from the infantile source.
love he had felt for her, that this little girl would at
last make him forget his irreparable loss.
Thus this train also connects up with the
intermediary thoughts of the latent dream-content,
from which paths radiate in the most contrary
directions: "No one is irreplaceable. See, here are
only revenants; all those whom one has lost return."
And now the bonds of association between the
contradictory components of the dream- thoughts
are more tightly drawn by the accidental
circumstance that my friend's little daughter bears
children's names make them revenants. And, finally,
is not the procreation of children for all men the only
way of access to immortality?
I shall add only a few observations as to the
affects of dreams considered from another point of
view. In the psyche of the sleeper an affective
tendency- what we call a mood- may be contained
as its dominating element, and may induce a
corresponding mood in the dream. This mood may
will receive the same treatment as the sensation
which actually emerges during sleep (Cf. chapter V.,
C), which is either neglected or reinterpreted in the
sense of a wish-fulfilment. Painful moods during
sleep become the motive force of the dream,
inasmuch as they awake energetic wishes which the
dream has to fulfil. The material in which they
inhere is elaborated until it is serviceable for the
expression of the wish-fulfilment. The more intense
I. The Secondary Elaboration
We will at last turn our attention to the
fourth of the factors participating in dream-
formation.
If we continue our investigation of the
dream-content on the lines already laid down- that
is, by examining the origin in the dream-thoughts of
conspicuous occurrences- we come upon elements
that can be explained only by making an entirely
only a dream"? This is a genuine criticism of the
dream, such as I might make if I were awake, Not
infrequently it is only the prelude to waking; even
oftener it is preceded by a painful feeling, which
subsides when the actuality of the dream- state has
been affirmed. The thought: "After all, it's only a
dream" in the dream itself has the same intention as
it has on the stage on the lips of Offenbach's Belle
Helene; it seeks to minimize what has just been
dream, and the agency therefore meets with this
remark the anxiety or painful emotion which rises
into the dream. It is an expression of the esprit
d'escalier on the part of the psychic censorship.
In this example we have incontestable proof
that everything which the dream contains does not
come from the dream-thoughts, but that a psychic
function, which cannot be differentiated from our
waking thoughts, may make contributions to the
introduced with hesitation, prefaced by an "as if";
they have no special vitality of their own, and are
constantly inserted at points where they may serve
to connect two portions of the dream-content or
create a continuity between two sections of the
dream. They manifest less ability to adhere in the
memory than do the genuine products of the dream-
material; if the dream is forgotten, they are
forgotten first, and I strongly suspect that our
way of over- determination. Only in the most
extreme cases does the psychic function in dream-
formation which we are now considering rise to
original creation; whenever possible it makes use of
anything appropriate that it can find in the dream-
material.
What distinguishes this part of the dream-
work, and also betrays it, is its tendency. This
function proceeds in a manner which the poet
subjected to the most searching elaboration by a
psychic function similar to our waking thought; they
seem to have a meaning, but this meaning is very
far removed from the real meaning of the dream. If
we analyse them, we are convinced that the
secondary elaboration has handled the material with
the greatest freedom, and has retained as little as
possible of its proper relations. These are the
dreams which have, so to speak, already been once
us- it is in reality the only one of the four dream-
creating factors which is familiar to us in other
connections- I do not wish to deny to this fourth
factor the faculty of creatively making new
contributions to our dreams. But its influence is
certainly exerted, like that of the other factors,
mainly in the preference and selection of psychic
material already formed in the dream-thoughts. Now
there is a case where it is to a great extent spared
not escaped the unerring insight of the poets; we
are all familiar with the description of the day-
dreams of one of his subordinate characters which
Alphonse Daudet has given us in his Nabab. The
study of the psychoneuroses discloses the
astonishing fact that these phantasies or day-
dreams are the immediate predecessors of
symptoms of hysteria- at least, of a great many of
them; for hysterical symptoms are dependent not
essential features in common with nocturnal
dreams; indeed, the investigation of day-dreams
might really have afforded the shortest and best
approach to the understanding of nocturnal dreams.
Like dreams, they are wish-fulfilments; like
dreams, they are largely based upon the
impressions of childish experiences; like dreams,
they obtain a certain indulgence from the censorship
in respect of their creations. If we trace their
dream-forming factor, we find once more the very
same activity which is allowed to manifest itself,
uninhibited by other influences, in the creation of
day-dreams. We may say, without further
preliminaries, that this fourth factor of ours seeks to
construct something like a day-dream from the
material which offers itself. But where such a day-
dream has already been constructed in the context
of the dream-thoughts, this factor of the dream-
complexity of the conditions which the dream must
satisfy at its genesis. On the whole, the phantasy is
treated like any other component of the latent
material; but it is often still recognizable as a whole
in the dream. In my dreams there are often parts
which are brought into prominence by their
producing a different impression from that produced
by the other parts. They seem to me to be in a state
of flux, to be more coherent and at the same time
only one of their elements, or by a remote allusion
to such an element. The fate of the phantasies in the
dream-thoughts is obviously determined by the
advantages they can offer as against the claims of
the censorship and the pressure of condensation.
In my choice of examples for dream-
interpretation I have, as far as possible, avoided
those dreams in which unconscious phantasies play
a considerable part, because the introduction of this
The dream- it is the only one of which I
possess no careful notes- is roughly to this effect:
The dreamer- a young unmarried man- is sitting in
his favourite inn, which is seen correctly; several
persons come to fetch him, among them someone
who wants to arrest him. He says to his table
companions, "I will pay later, I am coming back."
But they cry, smiling scornfully: "We know all about
that; that's what everybody says." One guest calls
being arrested; this seems to be newly created by
the dream-work. But behind it the phantasy of
marriage is visible, and this material, on the other
hand, has been slightly modified by the dream-work,
and the features which may be common to the two
phantasies appear with special distinctness, as in
Galton's composite photographs. The promise of the
young man, who is at present a bachelor, to return
to his place at his accustomed table- the scepticism
marriage phantasy has even got the better of the
arrest phantasy which screens it. The fact that this
bride finally wears a beard I can explain from
information received- I had no opportunity of
making an analysis. The dreamer had, on the
previous day, been crossing the street with a friend
who was just as hostile to marriage as himself, and
had called his friend's attention to a beautiful
brunette who was coming towards them. The friend
of a scene of arrest.
If we once more return to the thesis that the
dream-work prefers to make use of a ready-made
phantasy, instead of first creating one from the
material of the dream-thoughts, we shall perhaps be
able to solve one of the most interesting problems of
the dream. I have related the dream of Maury, who
is struck on the back of the neck by a small board,
and wakes after a long dream- a complete romance
has the privilege of a remarkable acceleration of its
issue.
To this conclusion, which rapidly became
popular, more recent authors (Le Lorrain, Egger,
and others) have opposed emphatic objections;
some of them doubt the correctness of Maury's
record of the dream, some seek to show that the
rapidity of our mental operations in waking life is by
no means inferior to that which we can, without
waking stimulus? The whole difficulty of composing
so long a story, with all its details, in the
exceedingly short space of time which is here at the
dreamer's disposal then disappears; the story was
already composed. If the board had struck Maury's
neck when he was awake, there would perhaps have
been time for the thought: "Why, that's just like
being guillotined." But as he is struck by the board
while asleep, the dream-work quickly utilizes the
possible to die with a light heart, and preserved
their ready wit and the refinement of their manners
up to the moment of the last fateful summons? How
tempting to fancy oneself in the midst of all this, as
one of these young men who take leave of their
ladies with a kiss of the hand, and fearlessly ascend
the scaffold! Or perhaps ambition was the ruling
motive of the phantasy- the ambition to put oneself
in the place of one of those powerful personalities
phantasy was an ambitious one of just this
character.
But the phantasy prepared so long ago need
not be experienced again in sleep; it is enough that
it should be, so to speak, "touched off." What I
mean is this: If a few notes are struck, and someone
says, as in Don Juan: "That is from The Marriage of
Figaro by Mozart," memories suddenly surge up
within me, none of which I can recall to
really remembering something which was dreamed.
The same explanation- namely, that one is dealing
with finished phantasies which have been evoked as
wholes by the waking stimulus- may be applied to
other dreams which are adapted to the waking
stimulus- for example, to Napoleon's dream of a
battle before the explosion of a bomb. Among the
dreams collected by Justine Tobowolska in her
dissertation on the apparent duration of time in
manifestations of applause. Suddenly he woke. He
could hardly believe his eyes or his ears; the
performance had not gone beyond the first lines of
the first scene; he could not have been asleep for
more than two minutes. As for the dream, the
running through the five acts of the play and the
observing the attitude of the public towards each
individual scene need not, we may venture to
assert, have been something new, produced while
assert that all dreams due to a waking stimulus
admit of this explanation, or that the problem of the
accelerated flux of ideas in dreams is entirely
disposed of in this manner.
And here we are forced to consider the
relation of this secondary elaboration of the dream-
content to the other factors of the dream-work. May
not the procedure perhaps be as follows? The
dream-forming factors, the efforts at condensation,
inductive and selective manner, the whole mass of
material in the dream-thoughts. But of the four
conditions necessary for dream-formation, the last
recognized is that whose exactions appear to be
least binding upon the dream. The following
consideration makes it seem very probable that this
psychic function, which undertakes the so-called
secondary elaboration of the dream-content, is
identical with the work of our waking thought: Our
the truth of the material before us. The proofs of
this fact are so familiar that we need not give them
further consideration here. We overlook errors which
make nonsense of a printed page because we
imagine the proper words. The editor of a widely
read French journal is said to have made a bet that
he could print the words from in front or from
behind in every sentence of a long article without
any of his readers noticing it. He won his bet. Years
who had apparently already listened to several
speakers, had got hold of the same idea, but with
this variation, that he supposed the shooting to be a
sign of appreciation following a specially successful
speech.
Thus, the psychic agency which approaches
the dream-content with the demand that it must be
intelligible, which subjects it to a first interpretation,
and in doing so leads to the complete
elaboration has been able to accomplish something;
those seem confused where the powers of this
performance have failed. Since the confused parts of
the dream are often likewise those which are less
vividly presented, we may conclude that the
secondary dream-work is responsible also for a
contribution to the plastic intensity of the individual
dream-structures.
If I seek an object of comparison for the
obliterated by weathering, or omitted, we allow
ourselves to be deluded about the significance of
certain isolated and meaningless letters. If we do
not wish to be fooled we must give up looking for an
inscription, must take the letters as they stand, and
combine them, disregarding their arrangement, into
words of our mother tongue.
The secondary elaboration is that factor of
the dream-work which has been observed by most
Delacroix in his Sur la structure logique du reve (p.
526): "Cette fonction d'interpretation n'est pas
particuliere au reve; c'est le meme travail de
coordination logique que nous faisons sur nos
sensations pendant la veille."[107]
J. Sully is of the same opinion; and so is
Tobowolska: "Sur ces successions incoherentes
d'hallucinations, l'esprit s'efforce de faire le meme
travail de coordination logique qu'il fait pendant le
le sommeil. De la sorte, la rapidite reelle de la
pensee serait augmentee en apparence par les
perfectionnements dus a l'imagination
eveillee."[109]
Leroy and Tobowolska (p. 502): "Dans le
reve, au contraire, l'interpretation et la coordination
se font non seulement a l'aide des donnees du reve,
mais encore a l'aide de celles de la veille...."[110]
It was therefore inevitable that this one
construire le reve avec les images presentes dans la
pensee du sommeil."[111]
To this estimate of the secondary
elaboration I will add the one fresh contribution to
the dream-work which has been indicated by the
sensitive observations of H. Silberer. Silberer has
caught the transformation of thoughts into images in
flagranti, by forcing himself to accomplish
intellectual work while in a state of fatigue and
the functional phenomenon, in contradistinction to
the material phenomenon which he expected.
"For example: one afternoon I am lying,
extremely sleepy, on my sofa, but I nevertheless
force myself to consider a philosophical problem. I
endeavour to compare the views of Kant and
Schopenhauer concerning time. Owing to my
somnolence I do not succeed in holding on to both
trains of thought, which would have been necessary
information of a grumpy secretary, who, bent over a
desk, does not allow my urgency to disturb him; half
straightening himself, he gives me a look of angry
refusal."[112]
Other examples, which relate to the
fluctuation between sleep and waking:
"Example No. 2. Conditions: Morning, while
awaking. While to a certain extent asleep
(crepuscular state), thinking over a previous dream,
side."[113]
"Example No. 6. Conditions the same as in
Example No. 4 (he wishes to remain in bed a little
I will now proceed to summarize this long
disquisition on the dream-work. We were confronted
by the question whether in dream- formation the
psyche exerts all its faculties to their full extent,
without inhibition, or only a fraction of them, which
are restricted in their action. Our investigations lead
us to reject such a statement of the problem as
wholly inadequate in the circumstances. But if, in
our answer, we are to remain on the ground upon
is worth knowing, and also mysterious, but these
problems have no particular relation to our dreams,
and cannot claim to be treated under the head of
dream-problems.[114] On the other hand, we have
the process which changes the unconscious thoughts
into the dream- content, which is peculiar to the
dream-life and characteristic of it. Now, this peculiar
dream-work is much farther removed from the
pattern of waking thought than has been supposed
work makes use of the displacement of psychic
intensities, even to the transvaluation of all psychic
values; thoughts must be exclusively or
predominantly reproduced in the material of visual
and acoustic memory-traces, and from this
requirement there proceeds the regard of the
dream-work for representability, which it satisfies by
fresh displacements. Greater intensities have
(probably) to be produced than are at the disposal
amount, which is effected by the partially wakened
conscious thought- is at all consistent with the
conception which the writers on the subject have
endeavoured to extend to the whole performance of
dream-formation.
Footnotes
[94] If I am not greatly mistaken, the first
dream which I was able to elicit from my grandson
many months before this first dream he had played
at away with all his toys; which went back to his
early self- conquest in allowing his mother to go
away.
[95] Cf. the dream about Count Thun, last
scene.
[96] Internat. Zeitschr. f. Psychoanalyse, IV
(1916).
[97] Ever since psycho-analysis has
situation of the dream aims at the non vivit has
been mentioned in chapter VI., G.
[100] Make room for me.
[101]It will have been obvious that the
name Josef plays a great part in my dreams (see the
dream about my uncle). It is particularly easy for
me to hide my ego in my dreams behind persons of
this name, since Joseph was the name of the dream-
interpreter in the Bible.
the complete analogy between the nocturnal dream
and the day-dream. In hysterical patients an attack
may often be replaced by a dream; it is then
obvious that the day-dream phantasy is the first
step for both these psychic formations.
[104] Justine Tobowolska, Etude sur les
illusions de temps dans les reves du sommeil normal
(1900) p. 53.
[105] The meeting will continue.
when awake.
[108] With these series of incoherent
halucinations, the mind must do the same work of
[109] However, I have often thought that
there might be a certain deformation, or rather
reformation, of the dream when it is recalled.... The
systematizing tendency of the imagination can well
finish, after waking, the sketch begun in sleep. In
that way, the real speed of thought will be
augmented in appearance by improvements due to
the wakened imagination.
[110] In the dream, on the contrary, the
between the manifest dream-content and the latent
dream-thoughts. Over and over again arguments
and objections were adduced from the uninterpreted
dream as it was retained in the memory, and the
necessity of interpreting the dream was ignored. But
now, when the analysts have at least become
reconciled to substituting for the manifest dream its
meaning as found by interpretation, many of them
are guilty of another mistake, to which they adhere
the tasks with which our psychic life is confronted is
no more remarkable than that our conscious waking
life should so concern itself, and I will only add that
this work may be done also in the preconscious, a
fact already familiar to us.
CHAPTER 7 (Part 1)
THE PSYCHOLOGY OF THE DREAM PROCESSES
Among the dreams which have been
communicated to me by others, there is one which
is at this point especially worthy of our attention. It
was told me by a female patient who had heard it
related in a lecture on dreams. Its original source is
unknown to me. This dream evidently made a deep
impression upon the lady, since she went so far as
to imitate it, i.e., to repeat the elements of this
dream in a dream of her own; in order, by this
his bed, clasping his arm and crying reproachfully:
"Father, don't you see that I am burning?" The
father woke up and noticed a bright light coming
from the adjoining room. Rushing in, he found that
the old man had fallen asleep, and the sheets and
one arm of the beloved body were burnt by a fallen
candle.
The meaning of this affecting dream is
simple enough, and the explanation given by the
which it had uttered while still alive, and which were
associated with important events for the father.
Perhaps the complaint, "I am burning," was
associated with the fever from which the child died,
and "Father, don't you see?" to some other affective
occurrence unknown to us.
Now, when we have come to recognize that
the dream has meaning, and can be fitted into the
context of psychic events, it may be surprising that
and had then drawn the conclusion which led him
into the adjoining room, he would have shortened
the child's life by this one moment.
There can be no doubt about the peculiar
features in this brief dream which engage our
particular interest. So far, we have endeavoured
mainly to ascertain wherein the secret meaning of
the dream consists, how it is to be discovered, and
what means the dream-work uses to conceal it. In
But before we turn our attention to this new
path of investigation, let us stop and look back, and
consider whether we have not overlooked something
important on our way hither. For we must
understand that the easy and comfortable part of
our journey lies behind us. Hitherto, all the paths
that we have followed have led, if I mistake not, to
light, to explanation, and to full understanding; but
from the moment when we seek to penetrate more
too far beyond the simplest logical construction,
since otherwise its value will be doubtful. And even
if we should be unerring in our inferences, and take
cognizance of all the logical possibilities, we should
still be in danger of arriving at a completely
mistaken result, owing to the probable
incompleteness of the preliminary statement of our
elementary data. We shall not he able to arrive at
any conclusions as to the structure and function of
the same problem.
A. The Forgetting of Dreams
our attention to a subject which brings us to a
hitherto disregarded objection, which threatens to
undermine the very foundation of our efforts at
dream-interpretation. The objection has been made
from more than one quarter that the dream which
we wish to interpret is really unknown to us, or, to
fragment, and that our recollection of even this
fragment seems to us strangely uncertain.
Moreover, everything goes to prove that our
memory reproduces the dream not only
incompletely but also untruthfully, in a falsifying
manner. As, on the one hand, we may doubt
whether what we dreamed was really as
disconnected as it is in our recollections, so on the
other hand we may doubt whether a dream was
In all our dream-interpretations we have
hitherto ignored these warnings. On the contrary,
indeed, we have found that the smallest, most
insignificant, and most uncertain components of the
dream-content invited interpretations no less
emphatically than those which were distinctly and
certainly contained in the dream. In the dream of
Irma's injection we read: "I quickly called in Dr. M,"
and we assumed that even this small addendum
would not have got into the dream if it had not been
susceptible of a special derivation. In this way we
the fears which proposed fifty-one years as the term
of life in the sharpest opposition to a dominant train
of thought which was boastfully lavish of the years.
In the dream Non vixit I found, as an insignificant
interpolation, that I had at first overlooked the
sentence: As P does not understand him, Fl asks
me, etc. The interpretation then coming to a
standstill, I went back to these words, and I found
through them the way to the infantile phantasy
equal attention, in the interpretation of dreams, to
every nuance of verbal expression found in them;
indeed, whenever we are confronted by a senseless
or insufficient wording, as though we had failed to
translate the dream into the proper version, we have
respected even these defects of expression. In brief,
what other writers have regarded as arbitrary
improvisations, concocted hastily to avoid confusion,
we have treated like a sacred text. This
dream-thoughts are constantly subjected as a result
of the dream-censorship. Other writers have here
suspected or observed that part of the dream-
distortion whose work is manifest; but for us this is
of little consequence, as we know that a far more
extensive work of distortion, not so easily
apprehended, has already taken the dream for its
object from among the hidden dream-thoughts. The
only mistake of these writers consists in believing
determined by thoughts within me which may be
quite foreign to my momentary purpose.[3] The
modifications which the dream undergoes in its
revision by the waking mind are just as little
arbitrary. They preserve an associative connection
with the content, whose place they take, and serve
to show us the way to this content, which may itself
be a substitute for yet another content.
In analysing the dreams of patients I impose
urge of resistance, he protects the weak points of
the dream's disguise, replacing a treacherous
expression by a less relevant one. He thus calls my
attention to the expressions which he has discarded.
From the efforts made to guard against the solution
of the dream, I can also draw conclusions about the
care with which the raiment of the dream has been
woven.
The writers whom I have mentioned are,
exhausted itself by the displacements and
substitutions which it has effected, so that it still
clings, in the form of doubt, to what has been
allowed to emerge. We can recognize this doubt all
the more readily in that it is careful never to attack
the intensive elements of the dream, but only the
weak and indistinct ones. But we already know that
a transvaluation of all the psychic values has taken
place between the dream-thoughts and the dream.
citizens, or the remoter followers of the vanquished
party, are tolerated. Even the latter do not enjoy the
full rights of citizenship. They are watched with
suspicion. In our case, instead of suspicion we have
doubt. I must insist, therefore, that in the analysis
of a dream one must emancipate oneself from the
whole scale of standards of reliability; and if there is
the slightest possibility that this or that may have
occurred in the dream, it should be treated as an
the analysis that permits it to be unmasked as an
offshoot and instrument of the psychic resistance.
Psycho- analysis is justifiably suspicions. One of its
rules runs: Whatever disturbs the progress of the
work is a resistance. [4] -
The forgetting of dreams, too, remains
inexplicible until we seek to explain it by the power
of the psychic censorship. The feeling that one has
dreamed a great deal during the night and has
lost by forgetting can often be recovered by
analysis; in a number of cases, at all events, it is
possible to discover from a single remaining
fragment, not the dream, of course- which, after all,
is of no importance- but the whole of the dream-
thoughts. It requires a greater expenditure of
attention and self-suppression in the analysis; that
is all; but it shows that the forgetting of the dream
is not innocent of hostile intention.[5]
dreams that I have included in the text of this
treatise, it once happened that I had subsequently
to interpolate a fragment of dream-content. The
dream is a dream of travel, which revenges itself on
two unamiable traveling companions; I have left it
almost entirely uninterpreted, as part of its content
is obscene. The part omitted reads: "I said, referring
to a book of Schiller's: 'It is from...' but corrected
myself, as I realized my mistake: 'It is by...'
little girl came up to me and asked me: "Is it a
starfish? Is it alive?" I replied, "Yes, he is alive," but
then felt ashamed of my mistake, and repeated the
sentence correctly. For the grammatical mistake
which I then made, the dream substitutes another
which is quite common among German people. "Das
Buch ist von Schiller" is not to be translated by "the
book is from," but by "the book is by." That the
dream-work accomplishes this substitution, because
derivation of the book-title Matter and Motion
(Moliere in Le Malade Imaginaire: La Matiere est-elle
laudable?- A Motion of the bowels) will readily be
able to supply the missing parts.
Moreover, I can prove conclusively, by a
demonstratio ad oculos, that the forgetting of the
dream is in a large measure the work of the
resistance. A patient tells me that he has dreamed,
but that the dream has vanished without leaving a
In the same way the patient, having reached
a certain part of the work, may recall a dream which
occurred three, four, or more days ago, and which
has hitherto remained in oblivion.[8]
Psycho-analytical experience has furnished
us with yet another proof of the fact that the
forgetting of dreams depends far more on the
resistance than on the mutually alien character of
the waking and sleeping states, as some writers
interpreted the dream. The dream has far more
frequently taken the result of the interpretation with
it into forgetfulness than the intellectual faculty has
succeeded in retaining the dream in the memory.
But between this work of interpretation and the
waking thoughts there is not that psychic abyss by
which other writers have sought to explain the
forgetting of dreams. When Morton Prince objects to
my explanation of the forgetting of dreams on the
psychic content.
That dreams are as little forgotten as other
psychic acts, that even in their power of impressing
themselves on the memory they may fairly be
compared with the other psychic performances, was
proved to me by an experiment which I was able to
make while preparing the manuscript of this book. I
had preserved in my notes a great many dreams of
my own which, for one reason or another, I could
yield of dream-thoughts with the present result,
which has usually been more abundant, and I have
invariably found the old dream-thoughts unaltered
among the present ones. However, I soon recovered
from my surprise when I reflected that I had long
been accustomed to interpret dreams of former
years that had occasionally been related to me by
my patients as though they had been dreams of the
night before; by the same method, and with the
than the more exigent one of today. In the Studies
in Hysteria,[9] published as early as 1895, I was
able to give the explanation of a first hysterical
attack which the patient, a woman over forty years
of age, had experienced in her fifteenth year.[10]
I will now make a few rather unsystematic
remarks relating to the interpretations of dreams,
which will perhaps serve as a guide to the reader
who wishes to test my assertions by the analysis of
preconceptions, and all affective or intellectual bias
in himself during the work of analysis. He must be
ever mindful of the precept which Claude Bernard
held up to the experimenter in the physiological
laboratory: "Travailler comme une bete"- that is, he
must be as enduring as an animal, and also as
disinterested in the results of his work. He who will
follow this advice will no longer find the task a
difficult one. The interpretation of a dream cannot
task is not finished when he is in possession of a
complete interpretation of the dream which is both
ingenious and coherent, and which gives particulars
of all the elements of the dream-content. Besides
this, another interpretation, an over-interpretation
of the same dream, one which has escaped him,
may be possible. It is really not easy to form an idea
of the wealth of trains of unconscious thought
striving for expression in our minds, or to credit the
interpretations, between which there is even
supposed to be a fixed relation. One of these, which
Silberer calls the psycho- analytic interpretation,
attributes to the dream any meaning you please, but
in the main an infantile sexual one. The other, the
more important interpretation, which he calls the
anagogic interpretation, reveals the more serious
and often profound thoughts which the dream-work
has used as its material. Silberer does not prove this
me that the dream-work was confronted with the
task of transforming a series of highly abstract
thoughts, incapable of direct representation, from
waking life into a dream. The dream- work
attempted to accomplish this task by seizing upon
another thought-material which stood in loose and
often allegorical relation to the abstract thoughts,
and thereby diminished the difficulty of representing
them. The abstract interpretation of a dream
in dream-interpretation depends on the relative
strength of the opposing forces. It is always possible
to make some progress; one can at all events go far
enough to become convinced that a dream has
meaning, and generally far enough to gain some
idea of its meaning. It very often happens that a
second dream enables us to confirm and continue
the interpretation assumed for the first. A whole
series of dreams, continuing for weeks or months,
observe during the interpretation that we have here
a tangle of dream-thoughts which cannot be
unravelled, and which furnishes no fresh
contribution to the dream-content. This, then, is the
keystone of the dream, the point at which it ascends
into the unknown. For the dream-thoughts which we
encounter during the interpretation commonly have
no termination, but run in all directions into the net-
like entanglement of our intellectual world. It is from
at night, the question then arises: What actually has
made the dream- formation possible against this
resistance? Let us consider the most striking case, in
which the waking life has thrust the dream aside as
though it had never happened. If we take into
consideration the play of the psychic forces, we are
compelled to assert that the dream would never
have come into existence had the resistance
prevailed at night as it did by day. We conclude,
determinant of dream-formation is the dormant
state of the psyche; and we may now add the
following explanation: The state of sleep makes
dream-formation possible by reducing the
endopsychic censorship.
We are certainly tempted to look upon this
as the only possible conclusion to be drawn from the
facts of dream-forgetting, and to develop from this
conclusion further deductions as to the comparative
here, and resume the subject a little later.
We must now consider another series of
objections against our procedure in dream-
interpretation. For we proceed by dropping all the
directing ideas which at other times control
reflection, directing our attention to a single element
of the dream, noting the involuntary thoughts that
associate themselves with this element. We then
take up the next component of the dream-content,
succeed in hitting upon the dream-thoughts in this
arbitrary and aimless excursion. It is probably a self-
deception; the investigator follows the chain of
associations from the one element which is taken up
until he finds the chain breaking off, whereupon he
takes up a second element; it is thus only natural
that the originally unconfined associations should
now become narrowed down. He has the former
chain of associations still in mind, and will therefore
they are otherwise unknown, he palms these off as
the psychic equivalent of the dream. But all this is a
purely arbitrary procedure, an ingenious-looking
exploitation of chance, and anyone who will go to
this useless trouble can in this way work out any
desired interpretation for any dream whatever.
If such objections are really advanced
against us, we may in defence refer to the
impression produced by our dream- interpretations,
that is, where the interpretation of the text is
confirmed by the interpolated illustrations. But we
have no reason to avoid this problem- namely, how
one can arrive at a pre-existent aim by following an
arbitrarily and aimlessly maundering chain of
thoughts- since we shall be able not to solve the
problem, it is true, but to get rid of it entirely.
For it is demonstrably incorrect to state that
we abandon ourselves to an aimless excursion of
thought establishes itself.[11] The psychiatrists have
here far too prematurely relinquished the idea of the
solidity of the psychic structure. I know that an
unregulated stream of thoughts, devoid of directing
ideas, can occur as little in the realm of hysteria and
paranoia as in the formation or solution of dreams.
Perhaps it does not occur at all in the endogenous
psychic affections, and, according to the ingenious
hypothesis of Lauret, even the deliria observed in
passages blacked out to fall into the bands of the
readers to be protected.
The free play of ideas following any chain of
associations may perhaps occur in cases of
destructive organic affections of the brain. What,
however, is taken to be such in the psychoneuroses
may always be explained as the influence of the
censorship on a series of thoughts which have been
pushed into the foreground by the concealed
from these to the dream-thoughts proper; in many
analyses of dreams we have found surprising
examples of this. In these no connection was too
loose and no witticism too objectionable to serve as
a bridge from one thought to another. But the
correct understanding of such surprising tolerance is
not far to seek. Whenever one psychic element is
connected with another by an obnoxious and
superficial association, there exists also a correct
maintained by steep and inconvenient tracks used at
other times only by the hunter.
We can here distinguish two cases which,
however, are essentially one. In the first case, the
censorship is directed only against the connection of
two thoughts which, being detached from one
another, escape its opposition. The two thoughts
then enter successively into consciousness; their
connection remains concealed; but in its place there
pressure of the censorship, the displacement of a
normal and vital association by one superficial and
apparently absurd has thus occurred in both cases.
Because we know of these displacements,
we unhesitatingly rely upon even the superficial
associations which occur in the course of dream-
interpretation.[13]
The psycho-analysis of neurotics makes
abundant use of the two principles: that with the
seem to be quite ingenuous and arbitrary, has some
connection with his morbid state. Another directing
idea of which the patient has no suspicion is my own
personality. The full appreciation, as well as the
detailed proof of both these explanations, belongs to
the description of the psycho-analytic technique as a
therapeutic method. We have here reached one of
the junctions, so to speak, at which we purposely
drop the subject of dream-interpretation.[14]
intermediary thoughts and the dream-thoughts now
in this place, now in that. We can see how the
recent thought- material of the day forces its way
into the interpretation- series, and how the
additional resistance which has appeared since the
night probably compels it to make new and further
detours. But the number and form of the collaterals
which we thus contrive during the day are,
psychologically speaking, indifferent, so long as they
B. Regression
as a wish, and its many peculiarities and absurdities,
are due to the influence of the psychic censorship to
which it has been subjected during its formation.
Besides the necessity of evading the censorship, the
following factors have played a part in its formation:
first, a need for condensing the psychic material;
second, regard for representability in sensory
images; and third (though not constantly), regard
for a rational and intelligible exterior of the dream-
not given in full. We asked ourselves why, after all,
it was necessary that the father should dream
instead of waking, and we recognized the wish to
represent the child as living as a motive of the
dream. That there was yet another wish operative in
the dream we shall be able to show after further
discussion. For the present, however, we may say
that for the sake of the wish- fulfilment the thought-
process of sleep was transformed into a dream.
one wished for, is objectified in the dream, and
represented as a scene, or- as we think-
experienced.
But how are we now to explain this
characteristic peculiarity of the dream-work, or- to
put it more modestly- how are we to bring it into
relation with the psychic processes?
On closer examination, it is plainly evident
that the manifest form of the dream is marked by
break away from the continuation of the waking
thoughts in sleep; for example, the dream of Irma's
injection. Here the dream-thought achieving
representation is in the conditional: "If only Otto
could be blamed for Irma's illness!" The dream
suppresses the conditional, and replaces it by a
simple present tense: "Yes, Otto is to blame for
Irma's illness." This, then, is the first of the
transformations which even the undistorted dream
same right as the day-dream. The present is the
tense in which the wish is represented as fulfilled.
The second quality peculiar to the dream
alone, as distinguished from the day-dream, is that
the conceptual content is not thought, but is
transformed into visual images, to which we give
credence, and which we believe that we experience.
Let us add. however, that not all dreams show this
transformation of ideas into visual images. There are
also in hallucinations and visions, which may appear
spontaneously in health, or as symptoms in the
psychoneuroses. In brief, the relation which we are
here investigating is by no means an exclusive one;
the fact remains, however, that this characteristic of
the dream, whenever it occurs, seems to be its most
noteworthy characteristic, so that we cannot think of
the dream-life without it. To understand it, however,
requires a very exhaustive discussion.
that the psychic apparatus concerned is known to us
also as an anatomical preparation, and we shall
carefully avoid the temptation to determine the
psychic locality in any anatomical sense. We shall
remain on psychological ground, and we shall do no
more than accept the invitation to think of the
instrument which serves the psychic activities much
as we think of a compound microscope, a
photographic camera, or other apparatus. The
components of the apparatus. So far as I am aware,
no attempt has yet been made to divine the
construction of the psychic instrument by means of
such dissection. I see no harm in such an attempt; I
think that we should give free rein to our
conjectures, provided we keep our heads and do not
mistake the scaffolding for the building. Since for
the first approach to any unknown subject we need
the help only of auxiliary ideas, we shall prefer the
psychic events the system will be traversed by the
excitation in a definite temporal order. This order
may be different in the case of other processes;
such a possibility is left open. For the sake of
brevity, we shall henceforth speak of the component
parts of the apparatus as Psi-systems.
The first thing that strikes us is the fact that
the apparatus composed of Psi-systems has a
direction. All our psychic activities proceed from
apparatus. The reflex act remains the type of every
psychic activity as well.
We now have reason to admit a first
differentiation at the sensory end. The percepts that
come to us leave in our psychic apparatus a trace,
which we may call a memory-trace. The function
related to this memory-trace we call the memory. If
we hold seriously to our resolution to connect the
psychic processes into systems, the memory-trace
lies a second system, which transforms the
momentary excitation of the first into lasting traces.
The following would then be the diagram of our
psychic apparatus: (See illustration.)
We know that of the percepts which act
upon the P-system, we retain permanently
something else as well as the content itself. Our
percepts prove also to be connected with one
another in the memory, and this is especially so if
elements, the excitation transmits itself to a second
rather than to a third mem-element.
On further investigation we find it necessary
to assume not one but many such mem-systems, in
which the same excitation transmitted by the P-
elements undergoes a diversified fixation. The first
of these mem-systems will in any case contain the
fixation of the association through simultaneity,
while in those lying farther away the same material
here be interpolated. The P-system, which possesses
no capacity for preserving changes, and hence no
memory, furnishes to consciousness the complexity
and variety of the sensory qualities. Our memories,
on the other hand, are unconscious in themselves;
those that are most deeply impressed form no
exception. They can be made conscious, but there is
no doubt that they unfold all their activities in the
unconscious state. What we term our character is
What we have so far assumed concerning
the composition of the psychic apparatus at the
sensible end has been assumed regardless of
dreams and of the psychological explanations which
we have hitherto derived from them. Dreams,
however, will serve as a source of evidence for our
knowledge of another part of the apparatus. We
have seen that it was impossible to explain dream-
formation unless we ventured to assume two psychic
systems, the criticizing system will therefore be
moved to the motor end. We now enter both
systems in our diagram, expressing, by the names
given them, their relation to consciousness. (See
illustration.)
The last of the systems at the motor end we
call the preconscious (Pcs.) to denote that the
exciting processes in this system can reach
consciousness without any further detention,
sake of simplicity, let us say in the system Ucs. We
shall find, it is true, in subsequent discussions, that
this is not altogether correct; that dream-formation
is obliged to make connection with dream-thoughts
which belong to the system of the preconscious. But
we shall learn elsewhere, when we come to deal
with the dream-wish, that the motive-power of the
dream is furnished by the Ucs, and on account of
this factor we shall assume the unconscious system
weakening, during the night, of the resistance
watching on the boundary between the unconscious
and the preconscious, we should then have dreams
in the material of our ideas, which would not display
the hallucinatory character that interests us at
present.
The weakening of the censorship between
the two systems, Ucs and Pcs, can explain to us only
such dreams as the Autodidasker dream but not
character.[18]
This regression is therefore assuredly one of
the most important psychological peculiarities of the
dream-process; but we must not forget that it is not
characteristic of the dream alone. Intentional
recollection and other component processes of our
normal thinking likewise necessitate a retrogression
in the psychic apparatus from some complex act of
ideation to the raw material of the memory-traces
to thinking. -
I hope that we are not deluding ourselves as
regards the importance of this present discussion.
We have done nothing more than give a name to an
inexplicable phenomenon. We call it regression if the
idea in the dream is changed back into the visual
image from which it once originated. But even this
step requires justification. Why this definition if it
does not teach us anything new? Well, I believe that
work or have difficulty in achieving expression.
According to our scheme, these thought-relations
are contained not in the first mem-systems, but in
those lying farther to the front, and in the regression
to the perceptual images they must forfeit
expression. In regression, the structure of the
dream- thoughts breaks up into its raw material.
But what change renders possible this
regression which is impossible during the day? Let
at night, and can no longer block the flow of the
current of excitation in the opposite direction. This
would appear to be that seclusion from the outer
world which, according to the theory of some
writers, is supposed to explain the psychological
character of the dream. In the explanation of the
regression of the dream we shall, however, have to
take into account those other regressions which
occur during morbid waking states. In these other
progressive direction.
The hallucinations of hysteria and paranoia,
example, I will cite the case of one of my youngest
hysterical patients- a boy of twelve, who was
prevented from falling asleep by "green faces with
red eyes," which terrified him. The source of this
manifestation was the suppressed, but once
conscious memory of a boy whom he had often seen
four years earlier, and who offered a warning
example of many bad habits, including
masturbation, for which he was now reproaching
period of successful treatment his sleep was
restored, his anxiety removed, and he finished his
scholastic year with an excellent record.
Here I may add the interpretation of a vision
described to me by an hysterical woman of forty, as
having occurred when she was in normal health.
One morning she opened her eyes and saw her
brother in the room, although she knew him to be
confined in an insane asylum. Her little son was
appeared to her disguised as a spectre with a sheet
over his head. The vision contains the same
elements as the reminiscence, viz., the appearance
of the brother, the sheet, the fright, and its effect.
These elements, however, are arranged in a fresh
context, and are transferred to other persons. The
obvious motive of the vision, and the thought which
it replaced, was her solicitude lest her little son, who
bore a striking resemblance to his uncle, should
being usually of an infantile character. This memory
draws into the regression, as it were, the thoughts
with which it is connected, and which are kept from
expression by the censorship- that is, into that form
of representation in which the memory itself is
psychically existent. And here I may add, as a result
of my studies of hysteria, that if one succeeds in
bringing to consciousness infantile scenes (whether
they are recollections or phantasies) they appear as
of thoughts into visual images may be the result of
the attraction exercised by the visually represented
memory, striving for resuscitation, upon the
thoughts severed from the consciousness and
struggling for expression. Pursuing this conception.
we may further describe the dream as the substitute
for the infantile scene modified by transference to
recent material. The infantile scene cannot enforce
its own revival, and must therefore be satisfied to
return as a dream.
This reference to the significance of the
assuming such a state of excitation only for the
psychic perceptive system of the organ of vision; we
shall, however, insist that this state of excitation is a
reanimation by the memory of a former actual visual
excitation. I cannot, from my own experience, give a
good example showing such an influence of an
infantile memory; my own dreams are altogether
less rich in perceptual elements than I imagine those
of others to be; but in my most beautiful and most
of former impressions. The colours I beheld were in
the first place those of the toy blocks with which my
children had erected a magnificent building for my
admiration, on the day preceding the dream. There
was the sombre red on the large blocks, the blue
and brown on the small ones. Joined to these were
the colour impressions of my last journey in Italy:
the beautiful blue of the Isonzo and the lagoons, the
brown hue of the Alps. The beautiful colours seen in
its normal way to consciousness, and of the
simultaneous attraction exerted upon it by vivid
memories.[21] The regression in dreams is perhaps
facilitated by the cessation of the progressive stream
flowing from the sense-organs during the day; for
which auxiliary factor there must be some
compensation, in the other forms of regression, by
the strengthening of the other regressive motives.
We must also bear in mind that in pathological cases
the dream-thoughts.
theory of neurotic symptom-formation than in the
theory of dreams. We may therefore distinguish a
threefold species of regression: (a) a topical one, in
the sense of the scheme of the Psi-systems here
exponded; (b) a temporal one, in so far as it is a
regression to older psychic formations; and (c) a
formal one, when primitive modes of expression and
representation take the place of the customary
modes. These three forms of regression are,
dominant and the modes of expression which were
then available. Behind this childhood of the
individual we are then promised an insight into the
phylogenetic childhood, into the evolution of the
human race, of which the development of the
individual is only an abridged repetition influenced
by the fortuitous circumstances of life. We begin to
suspect that Friedrich Nietzsche was right when he
said that in a dream "there persists a primordial part
particularly satisfying. We must, however, console
ourselves with the thought that we are, after all,
compelled to build out into the dark. If we have not
gone altogether astray, we shall surely reach
approximately the same place from another
starting-point, and then, perhaps, we shall be better
able to find our bearings.
C. The Wish-Fulfilment
during the day, our thoughts perform such a
diversity of psychic acts- judgments, conclusions,
the answering of objections, expectations,
intentions, etc.- why should they be forced at night
to confine themselves to the production of wishes
only? Are there not, on the contrary, many dreams
that present an altogether different psychic act in
dream-form- for example, anxious care- and is not
the father's unusually transparent dream of the
All these considerations are justified, and
force us to look more closely into the role of the
wish-fulfilment in dreams, and the significance of
the waking thoughts continued in sleep.
It is precisely the wish-fulfilment that has
already caused us to divide all dreams into two
groups. We have found dreams which were plainly
wish-fulfilments; and others in which the wish-
fulfilment was unrecognizable and was often
at night. I thus, find a threefold possibility for the
origin of a wish. Firstly, it may have been excited
during the day, and owing to external circumstances
may have remained unsatisfied; there is thus left for
the night an acknowledged and unsatisfied wish.
Secondly, it may have emerged during the day, only
to be rejected; there is thus left for the night an
unsatisfied but suppressed wish. Thirdly, it may
have no relation to daily life, but may belong to
On surveying the dreams at our disposal
with a view to answering this question, we are at
once moved to add as a fourth source of the dream-
wish the actual wish-impetus which arises during the
night (for example, the stimulus of thirst, and sexual
desire). It then seems to us probable that the source
of the dream-wish does not affect its capacity to
incite a dream. I have in mind the dream of the child
who continued the voyage that had been interrupted
tell the truth, namely, that he is a commonplace
fellow- one meets such by the dozen
(Dutzendmensch). The following night she dreams
that the same question is put to her, and that she
replies with the formula: "In case of subsequent
orders, it will suffice to mention the reference
number." Finally, as the result of numerous
analyses, we learn that the wish in all dreams that
have been subject to distortion has its origin in the
equal power.
I cannot prove here that this is not really the
wish unfulfilled in the daytime would suffice to
create a dream in an adult. It would rather seem
that, as we learn to control our instinctual life by
intellection, we more and more renounce as
unprofitable the formation or retention of such
intense wishes as are natural to childhood. In this,
indeed, there may be individual variations; some
retain the infantile type of the psychic processes
longer than others; just as we find such differences
a dream only when it succeeds in arousing a similar
unconscious wish which reinforces it. From the
indications obtained in the psychoanalysis of the
neuroses, I believe that these unconscious wishes
are always active and ready to express themselves
whenever they find an opportunity of allying
themselves with an impulse from consciousness, and
transferring their own greater intensity to the lesser
intensity of the latter.[22] It must, therefore, seem
neuroses. Let me, therefore, set aside the view
previously expressed, that it matters little whence
the dream-wish originates, and replace it by
another, namely: the wish manifested in the dream
must be an infantile wish. In the adult it originates
in the Ucs, while in the child, in whom no division
and censorship exist as yet between the Pcs and
Ucs, or in whom these are only in process of
formation, it is an unfulfilled and unrepressed wish
over from the waking life of the day, which are not
wishes, I shall merely be adhering to the course
mapped out for me by this line of thought. We may
succeed in provisionally disposing of the energetic
cathexis of our waking thoughts by deciding to go to
sleep. He is a good sleeper who can do this;
Napoleon I is reputed to have been a model of this
kind. But we do not always succeed in doing it, or in
doing it completely. Unsolved problems, harassing
unsolved problems.
3. Those which have been turned back and
suppressed during the day. This is reinforced by a
powerful fourth group:
4. Those which have been excited in our Ucs
during the day by the workings of the Pcs; and
finally we may add a fifth, consisting of:
5. The indifferent impressions of the day,
which have therefore been left unsettled.
simply not asleep. I cannot say what change is
produced in the Pcs system by the state of
sleep,[23] but there is no doubt that the
psychological characteristics of sleep are to be
sought mainly in the cathectic changes occurring
just in this system, which dominates, moreover, the
approach to motility, paralysed during sleep. On the
other hand, I have found nothing in the psychology
of dreams to warrant the assumption that sleep
the dream-content, and impel it to continue the
work of the day; it is also certain that the day-
residues may just as well have any other character
as that of wishes. But it is highly instructive, and for
the theory of wish-fulfilment of quite decisive
importance, to see what conditions they must
comply with in order to be received into the dream.
Let us pick out one of the dreams cited
above, e.g., the dream in which my friend Otto
revealed a connection. I identified my friend Otto
with a certain Baron L and myself with a Professor
R. There was only one explanation of my being
impelled to select just this substitute for the day-
thought. I must always have been ready in the Ucs
to identify myself with Professor R, as this meant
the realization of one of the immortal infantile
wishes, viz., the wish to become great. Repulsive
ideas respecting my friend, ideas that would
that of the worry there need be no connection, nor
was there one in our example.
It would perhaps be appropriate, in dealing
with this problem, to inquire how a dream behaves
when material is offered to it in the dream-thoughts
which flatly opposes a wish-fulfilment; such as
justified worries, painful reflections and distressing
realizations. The many possible results may be
classified as follows: (a) The dream-work succeeds
the ideas contained in them seem to justify, or they
may even lead to the development of anxiety to the
point of waking.
Analysis then shows that even these painful
dreams are wish- fulfilments. An unconscious and
repressed wish, whose fulfilment could only be felt
as painful by the dreamer's ego, has seized the
opportunity offered by the continued cathexis of
painful day- residues, has lent them its support, and
fulfilment of a wish, and on the other the fulfilment
of a fear. Or it may happen that the sleeper's ego
plays an even more extensive part in the dream-
formation, that it reacts with violent resentment to
the accomplished satisfaction of the repressed wish,
and even goes so far as to make an end of the
dream by means of anxiety. It is thus not difficult to
recognize that dreams of pain and anxiety are, in
accordance with our theory, just as much wish-
the unconscious. But a finer psychological dissection
allows us to recognize the difference between this
and the other wish-dreams. In the dreams of group
(b) the unconscious dream-forming wish belonged to
the repressed material. In the punishment-dreams it
is likewise an unconscious wish, but one which we
must attribute not to the repressed material but to
the ego.
Punishment-dreams point, therefore, to the
is true, if the thoughts which are day-residues are of
a gratifying nature, but express illicit gratifications.
Of these thoughts nothing, then, finds its way into
the manifest dream except their contrary, just as
was the case in the dreams of group (a). Thus it
would be the essential characteristic of punishment-
dreams that in them it is not the unconscious wish
from the repressed material (from the system Ucs)
that is responsible for dream-formation but the
preconscious).[24]
which will please her greatly, and I begin to tell her
that our son's Officers' Corps has sent a sum of
money (5,000 k.?)... something about honourable
mention... distribution... at the same time I have
gone with her into a sitting room, like a store-room,
in order to fetch something from it. Suddenly I see
my son appear; he is not in uniform but rather in a
tight-fitting sports suit (like a seal?) with a small
cap. He climbs on to a basket which stands to one
dream; once again there had been no news for over
a week from my son, who was fighting at the Front.
It is easy to see that in the dream-content the
conviction that he has been killed or wounded finds
expression. At the beginning of the dream one can
observe an energetic effort to replace the painful
thoughts by their contrary. I have to impart
something very pleasing, something about sending
money, honourable mention, and distribution. (The
dream thus strives to give direct expression to what
it at first wished to deny, whilst at the same time
the wish-fulfilling tendency reveals itself by
distortion. (The change of locality in the dream is no
doubt to be understood as threshold symbolism, in
line with Silberer's view.) We have indeed no idea
what lends it the requisite motive-power. But my
son does not appear as failing (on the field of battle)
but climbing.- He was, in fact, a daring
are unmistakable allusions to an accident of my
own, brought upon myself when I was between two
and three years of age. I climbed on a foot-stool in
the pantry, in order to get something nice which was
on a chest or table. The footstool tumbled over and
its edge struck me behind the lower jaw. I might
very well have knocked all my teeth out. At this
point, an admonition presents itself: it serves you
right- like a hostile impulse against the valiant
that there is a whole class of dreams in which the
incitement originates mainly or even exclusively
from the residues of the day; and returning to the
dream about my friend Otto, I believe that even my
desire to become at last a professor extraordinarius
would have allowed me to sleep in peace that night,
had not the day's concern for my friend's health
continued active. But this worry alone would not
have produced a dream; the motive-power needed
In other cases the capitalist himself is the
entrepreneur; this, indeed, seems to be the more
usual case. An unconscious wish is excited by the
day's work, and this now creates the dream. And the
dream-processes provide a parallel for all the other
possibilities of the economic relationship here used
as an illustration. Thus the entrepreneur may
himself contribute a little of the capital, or several
entrepreneurs may seek the aid of the same
elucidation of the dream-structure. As shown in
chapter VI., B., we can recognize in most dreams a
centre supplied with a special sensory intensity. This
is, as a rule, the direct representation of the wish-
fulfilment; for, if we reverse the displacements of
the dream-work, we find that the psychic intensity
of the elements in the dream-thoughts is replaced
by the sensory intensity of the elements in the
dream-content. The elements in the neighbourhood
separate and delimit the spheres of the individual
wish-fulfilments, and we shall find that the gaps in
the dream are often of the nature of boundary-
zones.
Although the foregoing remarks have
restricted the significance of the day-residues for the
dream, they are none the less deserving of some
further attention. For they must be a necessary
ingredient in dream-formation, inasmuch as
with a harmless idea already belonging to the
preconscious, to which it transfers its intensity, and
by which it allows itself to be screened. This is the
fact of transference, which furnishes the explanation
of so many surprising occurrences in the psychic life
of neurotics. The transference may leave the idea
from the preconscious unaltered, though the latter
will thus acquire an unmerited intensity, or it may
force upon this some modification derived from the
themselves attracted enough of the attention active
in the preconscious. The unconscious prefers to
entangle with its connections either those
impressions and ideas of the preconscious which
have remained unnoticed as being indifferent or
those which have immediately had attention
withdrawn from them again (by rejection). it is a
well-known proposition of the theory of associations,
confirmed by all experience, that ideas which have
recent element is often of the most indifferent
character. We may add what we have already
learned elsewhere, that the reason why these recent
and indifferent elements so frequently find their way
into the dream-content as substitutes for the very
oldest elements of the dream-thoughts is that they
have the least to fear from the resisting censorship.
But while this freedom from censorship explains only
the preference shown to the trivial elements, the
namely, the motive-power at the disposal of the
repressed wish- but they also offer to the
unconscious something that is indispensable to it,
namely, the points of attachment necessary for
transference. If we wished to penetrate more deeply
into the psychic processes, we should have to throw
a clearer light on the play of excitations between the
preconscious and the unconscious, and indeed the
study of the psychoneuroses would impel us to do
impressions. We have thus found room for the
claims that can be made for the dream-forming
significance of our waking mental activity in all its
multifariousness. It might even prove possible to
explain, on the basis of our train of thought, those
extreme cases in which the dream, continuing the
work of the day, brings to a happy issue an unsolved
problem of waking life. We merely lack a suitable
example to analyse, in order to uncover the infantile
process of evolution. Let us attempt to restore it as
it existed in an earlier stage of capacity. From
postulates to be confirmed in other ways, we know
that at first the apparatus strove to keep itself as
free from stimulation as possible, and therefore, in
its early structure, adopted the arrangement of a
reflex apparatus, which enabled it promptly to
discharge by the motor paths any sensory excitation
reaching it from without. But this simple function
of the child by external assistance), there is an
experience of satisfaction, which puts an end to the
internal excitation. An essential constituent of this
experience is the appearance of a certain percept (of
food in our example), the memory-image of which is
henceforth associated with the memory- trace of the
excitation arising from the need. Thanks to the
established connection, there results, at the next
occurrence of this need, a psychic impulse which
aims at an identity of perception: that is, at a
repetition of that perception which is connected with
the satisfaction of the need.
This primitive mental activity must have
been modified by bitter practical experience into a
secondary and more appropriate activity. The
establishment of identity of perception by the short
regressive path within the apparatus does not
produce the same result in another respect as
seek other paths, leading ultimately to the
production of the desired identity from the side of
the outer world.[25] This inhibition, as well as the
subsequent deflection of the excitation, becomes the
task of a second system, which controls voluntary
motility, i.e., a system whose activity first leads on
to the use of motility for purposes remembered in
advance. But all this complicated mental activity,
which works its way from the memory-image to the
inappropriate. What once prevailed in the waking
state, when our psychic life was still young and
inefficient, seems to have been banished into our
nocturnal life; just as we still find in the nursery
those discarded primitive weapons of adult
humanity, the bow and arrow. Dreaming is a
fragment of the superseded psychic life of the child.
In the psychoses, those modes of operation of the
psychic apparatus which are normally suppressed in
carelessness on the part of this guardian to diminish
his vigilance at night, and to allow the suppressed
impulses of the Ucs to achieve expression, thus
again making possible the process of hallucinatory
regression? I think not, for when the critical
guardian goes to rest- and we have proof that his
slumber is not profound- he takes care to close the
gate to motility. No matter what impulses from the
usually inhibited Ucs may bustle about the stage,
cathected and the gates of motility are open. The
guardian is then overpowered; the unconscious
excitations subdue the Pcs, and from the Pcs they
dominate our speech and action, or they enforce
hallucinatory regressions, thus directing an
apparatus not designed for them by virtue of the
attraction exerted by perceptions on the distribution
of our psychic energy. We call this condition
psychosis.
single moment longer to maintain our right to
develop such far-reaching psychological speculations
from the facts of dream-interpretation, we are in
duty bound to show that they insert the dream into
a context which can also embrace other psychic
structures. If there exists a system of the Ucs- or
something sufficiently analogous for the purposes of
our discussion- the dream cannot be its sole
manifestation; every dream may be a wish-
essential characteristic which I have so far failed to
find in the dream. Thus, from the investigations
often alluded to in this treatise, I know that the
formation of an hysterical symptom needs a junction
of both the currents of our psychic life. The
symptom is not merely the expression of a realized
unconscious wish; the latter must be joined by
another wish from the preconscious, which is fulfilled
by the same symptom; so that the symptom is at
the complications in question can carry conviction. I
will therefore content myself with the bare assertion,
and will cite one example, not because it proves
anything, but simply as an illustration. The
hysterical vomiting of a female patient proved, on
the one hand, to be the fulfilment of an unconscious
phantasy from the years of puberty- namely, the
wish that she might be continually pregnant, and
have a multitude of children; and this was
had undertaken his campaign out of greed for gold,
she caused molten gold to be poured into the throat
of the corpse. "Here thou hast what thou hast
longed for!"
Of the dream we know as yet only that it
expresses a wish- fulfilment of the unconscious; and
apparently the dominant preconscious system
permits this fulfilment when it has compelled the
wish to undergo certain distortions. We are,
and has realized this wish by producing the changes
of cathexis within the psychic apparatus which are
within its power; thereupon holding on to the wish in
question for the whole duration of sleep.[31]
Now this persistent wish to sleep on the part
of the preconscious has a quite general facilitating
effect on the formation of dreams. Let us recall the
dream of the father who, by the gleam of light from
the death-chamber, was led to conclude that his
"Let the dream go on, or I must wake up." As in this
dream, so in all others, the wish to sleep lends its
support to the unconscious wish. In chapter III. we
cited dreams which were manifestly dreams of
convenience. But in truth all dreams may claim this
designation. The efficacy of the wish to go on
sleeping is most easily recognized in the awakening
dreams, which so elaborate the external sensory
stimulus that it becomes compatible with the
throughout the whole of our sleep we are just as
certain that we are dreaming as we are certain that
we are sleeping. It is imperative to disregard the
objection that our consciousness is never directed to
the latter knowledge, and that it is directed to the
former knowledge only on special occasions, when
the censorship feels, as it were, taken by surprise.
On the contrary, there are persons in whom the
retention at night of the knowledge that they are
The Marquis Hervey (Vaschide) declared that
he had gained such power over his dreams that he
could accelerate their course at will, and turn them
in any direction he wished. It seems that in him the
wish to sleep had accorded a place to another, a
preconscious wish, the wish to observe his dreams
and to derive pleasure from them. Sleep is just as
compatible with such a wish- resolve as it is with
some proviso as a condition of waking up (wet-
psychic life."
Footnotes
[1] Similar views are expressed by Foucault
and Tannery.
[2] Seldom have you understood me,
Seldom have I understood you,
But when we found ourselves in the mire,
We at once understood each other!
exaggeration of the above statement there is still
something new and useful in it. Even if the
disturbing event is real and independent of the
patient, the extent of the disturbing influence does
often depend only on him, and the resistance
reveals itself unmistakably in the ready and
immoderate exploitation of such an opportunity. -
[5] As an example of the significance of
doubt and uncertainty in a dream with a
he informed someone that he had called on him the
day before in the following words: "I called for you
yesterday." The other answered correctly: "You
mean: I called on you yesterday."
[8] Ernest Jones describes an analogous
case of frequent occurrence; during the analysis of
one dream another dream of the same night is often
recalled which until then was not merely forgotten,
but was not even suspected.
same view with regard to this psychologically
important point: Incidental to the discussion of the
role of the unconscious in artistic creation (Philos. d.
Unbew., Vol. i, Sect. B., Chap. V) Eduard von
Hartmann clearly enunciated the law of association
of ideas which is directed by unconscious directing
ideas, without however realizing the scope of this
law. With him it was a question of demonstrating
that "every combination of a sensuous idea when it
that evoke and are evoked in the sense of pure
association-psychology is untenable. Such a
restriction "would be justified only if there were
states in human life in which man was free not only
from any conscious purpose, but also from the
domination or cooperation of any unconscious
interest, any passing mood. But such a state hardly
ever comes to pass, for even if one leaves one's
train of thought seemingly altogether to chance, or if
Hartmann's Psychology (N. E. Pohorilles, Internat.
Zeitschrift. f. Ps. A., I, [1913], p. 605). Du Prel
concludes from the fact that a name which we vainly
try to recall suddenly occurs to the mind that there
is an unconscious but none the less purposeful
thinking, whose result then appears in
consciousness (Philos. d. Mystik, p. 107).
[12] Jung has brilliantly corroborated this
statement by analyses of dementia praecox. (Cf.
satisfied their need of an explanation of the sexual
mystery when obsessed by the curiosity of puberty.
[14] The above statements, which when
written sounded very improbable, have since been
corroborated and applied experimentally by Jung
and his pupils in the Diagnostiche
Assoziationsstudien.
[15] Psychophysik, Part. II, p. 520.
[16] Since writing this, I have thought that
that operating in the waking state. Hobbes states
(Leviathan, ch. 2): "In sum our dreams are the
reverse of our imagination, the motion, when we are
awake, beginning at one end, and when we dream
at another" (quoted by Havelock Ellis, loc. cit., p.
112). -
[19] From the Greek Kathexo, to occupy,
used here in place of the author's term Besetzung,
to signify a charge or investment of energy.- TR.
97 above.
[22] They share this character of
indestructibility with all other psychic acts that are
really unconscious- that is, with psychic acts
belonging solely to the system Ucs. These paths are
opened once and for all; they never fall into disease;
they conduct the excitation process to discharge as
often as they are charged again with unconscious
excitation. To speak metaphorically, they suffer no
other form of annihilation than did the shades of the
difference.
[23] I have endeavoured to penetrate
farther into the relations of the sleeping state and
[24] Here one may consider the idea of the
super-ego which was later recognized by psycho-
analysis.
[25] In other words: the introduction of a
test of reality is recognized as necessary.
[26] Le Lorrain justly extols the wish-
fulfilments of dreams: "Sans fatigue serieuse, sans
etre oblige de recourir a cette lutte opiniatre et
longue qui use et corrode les jouissances
sought.]
[27] I have further elaborated this train of
fulfilment, while the other corresponds to the
reaction-formation opposed to it.
[29] Hughlings Jackson has expressed
himself as follows: "Find out all about dreams, and
you will have found out all about insanity."
[30] Cf. my latest formulation (in Zeitschrift
fur Sexual- wissenschaft, Bd. I) of the origin of
hysterical symptoms in the treatise on "Hysterical
Phantasies and their Relation to Bisexuality,"
CHAPTER 7 (Part 2)
THE PSYCHOLOGY OF THE DREAM PROCESSES
D. Waking Caused by Dreams -- The
Function of Dreams -- The Anxiety Dream
the preconscious is orientated to the wish to sleep,
we can follow the dream-process with proper
understanding. But let us first summarize what we
already know about this process. We have seen that
day-residues are left over from the waking activity
of the mind, residues from which it has not been
possible to withdraw all cathexis. Either one of the
along the normal path of the thought processes,
through the preconscious, to which indeed it belongs
by virtue of one of its constituent elements. It is,
however, confronted by the censorship which still
subsists, and to whose influence it soon succumbs.
It now takes on the distortion for which the way has
already been paved by the transference to recent
material. So far it is on the way to becoming
something resembling an obsession, a delusion, or
On its way to regression it acquires representability.
The subject of compression will be discussed later.
The dream- process has by this time covered the
second part of its contorted course. The first part
threads its way progressively from the unconscious
scenes or phantasies to the preconscious, while the
second part struggles back from the boundary of the
censorship to the tract of the perceptions. But when
the dream-process becomes a perception-content, it
the Psi- systems, even those in the preconscious,
are devoid of all psychic quality, and are therefore
not objects of consciousness, inasmuch as they do
not provide either pleasure or pain for its perception.
We shall have to assume that these releases of
pleasure and pain automatically regulate the course
of the cathectic processes. But in order to make
possible more delicate performances, it
subsequently proved necessary to render the flow of
processes.
I must assume that the sensory surface of
consciousness which is turned to the preconscious is
rendered far more unexcitable by sleep than the
surface turned toward the P-system. The giving up
of interest in the nocturnal thought-process is, of
course, an appropriate procedure. Nothing is to
happen in thought; the preconscious wants to sleep.
But once the dream becomes perception, it is
any other perception-content; it is subjected to the
same anticipatory ideas as far, at least, as the
material allows. As far as this third part of the
dream-process has any direction, this is once more
progressive.
To avoid misunderstanding, it will not be
amiss to say a few words as to the temporal
characteristics of these dream- processes. In a very
interesting discussion, evidently suggested by
forced to ignore a great many facts. There are also
dreams from which we do not awaken; for example,
many dreams in which we dream that we dream.
From our knowledge of the dream-work, we can by
no means admit that it extends only over the period
of waking. On the contrary, we must consider it
probable that the first part of the dream-work is
already begun during the day, when we are still
under the domination of the preconscious. The
dream-wish, then the process of distortion due to
the censorship, and then the change of direction to
regression, etc. We were obliged to construct such a
sequence for the sake of description; in reality,
however, it is probably rather a question of
simultaneously trying this path and that, and of the
excitation fluctuating to and fro, until finally,
because it has attained the most apposite
concentration, one particular grouping remains in
works, which require hours for their preparation and
then flare up in a moment.
Through the dream-work, the dream-
process now either gains sufficient intensity to
attract consciousness to itself and to arouse the
preconscious (quite independently of the time or
profundity of sleep), or its intensity is insufficient,
and it must wait in readiness until attion, becoming
more alert immediately before waking, meets it half-
world.
of our sleep. We may bear in mind the
purposefulness which can be demonstrated in all
other cases, and ask ourselves why the dream, that
is, the unconscious wish, is granted the power to
disturb our sleep, i.e., the fulfilment of the
preconscious wish. The explanation is probably to be
found in certain relations of energy which we do not
yet understand. If we did so, we should probably
find that the freedom given to the dream and the
wish to sleep is quite compatible with the
maintenance of a certain amount of attention in a
given direction.
But we must here take note of an objection
which is based on a greater knowledge of the
unconscious processes. We have ourselves described
the unconscious wishes as always active, whilst
nevertheless asserting that in the daytime they are
not strong enough to make themselves perceptible.
always practicable, whenever a quantum of
excitation makes use of them. It is indeed an
outstanding peculiarity of the unconscious processes
that they are indestructible. Nothing can be brought
to an end in the unconscious; nothing is past or
forgotten. This is impressed upon us emphatically in
the study of the neuroses, and especially of hysteria.
The unconscious path of thought which leads to the
discharge through an attack is forthwith passable
impressions which are no longer recent, which we
are apt to take as self-evident, and to explain as a
primary effect of time on our psychic memory-
residues, are in reality secondary changes brought
about by laborious work. It is the preconscious that
accomplishes this work; and the only course which
psychotherapy can pursue is to bring the Ucs under
the dominion of the Pcs.
There are, therefore, two possible issues for
harmless as a disturber of sleep. When the dreamer
wakes up for a moment, he has really chased away
the fly that threatened to disturb his sleep. We may
now begin to suspect that it is really more expedient
and economical to give way to the unconscious wish,
to leave clear its path to regression so that and it
may form a dream, and then to bind and dispose of
this dream by means of a small outlay of
preconscious work, than to hold the unconscious in
other psychic formations of its group, the dream
offers itself as a compromise, serving both systems
simultaneously, by fulfilling the wishes of both, in so
far as they are mutually compatible. A glance at
Robert's "elimination theory" will show that we must
agree with this author on his main point, namely,
the determination of the function of dreams, though
we differ from him in our general presuppositions
and in our estimation of the dream-process.[33] -
preconscious waking thought, the result of which
may be disclosed to us by the analysis of dreams or
other phenomena. After the dream has so long been
fused with its manifest content, one must now guard
against confusing it with the latent dream-thoughts.
The above qualification- in so far as the two
wishes are mutually compatible- contains a
suggestion that there may be cases in which the
function of the dream fails. The dream-process is, to
organism in which a contrivance that is usually to
the purpose becomes inappropriate and disturbing
so soon as something is altered in the conditions
which engender it; the disturbance, then, at all
events serves the new purpose of indicating the
change, and of bringing into play against it the
means of adjustment of the organism. Here, of
course, I am thinking of the anxiety-dream, and lest
it should seem that I try to evade this witness
our psychic normality. Neurotic symptoms indicate
to us that the two systems are in mutual conflict;
the symptoms are the result of a compromise in this
conflict, and they temporarily put an end to it. On
the one hand, they afford the Ucs a way out for the
discharge of its excitation- they serve it as a kind of
sally- gate- while, on the other hand, they give the
Pcs the possibility of dominating the Ucs in some
degree. It is instructive to consider, for example, the
fortress.
We cannot enlarge further on this subject
unless we examine the role of the affects in these
processes, which can only be done here imperfectly.
We will therefore affirm the proposition that the
principal reason why the suppression of the Ucs
becomes necessary is that, if the movement of ideas
in the Ucs were allowed to run its course, it would
develop an affect which originally had the character
strangled, that is, inhibited from sending out the
impulse that would develop the affect. The danger
which arises, if cathexis by the Pcs ceases, thus
consists in the fact that the unconscious excitations
would liberate an affect that- in consequence of the
repression that has previously occurred- could only
be felt as pain or anxiety.
This danger is released if the dream-process
is allowed to have its own way. The conditions for its
of the neuroses. I might further add that anxiety in
dreams is an anxiety-problem and not a dream-
problem. Having once exhibited the point of contact
of the psychology of the neuroses with the theme of
the dream- process, we have nothing further to do
with it. There is only one thing left which I can do.
Since I have asserted that neurotic anxiety has its
origin in sexual sources, I can subject anxiety-
dreams to analysis in order to demonstrate the
persons with birds' beaks. I awoke crying and
screaming, and disturbed my parents' sleep. The
peculiarly draped, excessively tall figures with beaks
I had taken from the illustrations of Philippson's
Bible; I believe they represented deities with the
heads of sparrowhawks from an Egyptian tomb-
relief. The analysis yielded, however, also the
recollection of a house-porter's boy, who used to
play with us children on a meadow in front of the
elaboration in the dream must therefore have been
that my mother was dying; the tomb-relief, too,
agrees with this. I awoke with this anxiety, and
could not calm myself until I had waked my parents.
I remember that I suddenly became calm when I
saw my mother; it was as though I had needed the
assurance: then she was not dead. But this
secondary interpretation of the dream had only
taken place when the influence of the developed
dreamed, between the ages of eleven and thirteen,
dreams attended with great anxiety, to the effect
that a man with a hatchet was running after him; he
wanted to run away, but seemed to be paralysed,
and could not move from the spot. This may be
taken as a good and typical example of a very
common anxiety-dream, free from any suspicion of
a sexual meaning. In the analysis, the dreamer first
thought of a story told him by his uncle
mother said: "I'm afraid he will kill him one day."
While he seemed to be thus held by the theme of
violence, a memory from his ninth year suddenly
emerged. His parents had come home late and had
gone to bed, whilst he was pretending to be asleep.
He soon heard panting, and other sounds that
seemed to him mysterious, and he could also guess
the position of his parents in bed. His further
thoughts showed that he had established an analogy
by the child's understanding, and which probably
also encounters repulsion because their parents are
involved, and is therefore transformed into anxiety.
At a still earlier period of life the sexual impulse
towards the parent of opposite sex does not yet
suffer repression, but as we have seen (chapter V.,
D.) expresses itself freely.
For the night terrors with hallucinations
(pavor nocturnus) so frequent in children I should
from the somatic and from the psychic side. To
illustrate by a comical example how closely, if one is
made blind by the blinkers of medical mythology,
one may pass by the understanding of such cases, I
will cite a case which I found in a thesis on pavor
nocturnus (Debacker, 1881, p. 66).
A boy of thirteen, in delicate health, began
to be anxious and dreamy; his sleep became
uneasy, and once almost every week it was
"because the fire attacked him only when he was
undressed." In the midst of these evil dreams, which
were endangering his health, he was sent into the
country, where he recovered in the course of
eighteen months. At the age of fifteen he confessed
one day: "Je n'osais pas l'avouer, mais j'eprouvais
continuellement des picotements et des
surexcitations aux parties;[36] a la fin, cela
m'enervait tant que plusieurs fois j'ai pense me jeter
anxiety now gathered up the punishments with
which he was originally threatened.
Let us, on the other hand, see what
conclusions were drawn by the author (p. 69):
"1. It is clear from this observation that the
influence of puberty may produce in a boy of
delicate health a condition of extreme weakness,
and that this may lead to a very marked cerebral
anaemia.[40]
"5. Possibly an influence predisposing to the
development of the boy's cerebral state may be
attributed to heredity and to the father's former
syphilis."
Then finally come the concluding remarks:
"Nous avons fait entrer cette observation dans le
cadre delires apyretiques d'inanition, car c'est a
l'ischemie cerebrale que nous rattachons cet etat
particulier."[41]
Processes. Repression
follow the historic development of my own insight.
The lines of approach to the comprehension of the
dream were laid down for me by previous
investigations into the psychology of the neuroses,
to which I should not refer here, although I am
constantly obliged to do so; whereas I should like to
work in the opposite direction, starting from the
dream, and then proceeding to establish its junction
with the psychology of the neuroses. I am conscious
exception to two only of the views expressed:
namely, that the dream is a meaningless process,
and that it is a somatic process. Apart from these,
we have been able to find a place for the truth of all
the contradictory opinions at one point or another of
the complicated tissue of the facts, and we have
been able to show that each expressed something
genuine and correct. That our dreams continue the
impulses and interests of waking life has been
that the dream-process, owing to the nature of the
mechanism of association, finds it easier to obtain
possession of recent or indifferent material, which
has not yet been put under an embargo by our
waking mental activity; and that, on account of the
censorship, it transfers the psychic intensity of the
significant but also objectionable material to the
indifferent. The hypermnesia of the dream and its
ability to dispose of infantile material have become
which has been left indeterminate by other writers.
The interpretation proceeds in such a way that the
perceived object is rendered harmless as a source of
disturbance of sleep, whilst it is made usable for the
wish-fulfilment. Though we do not admit as a special
source of dreams the subjective state of excitation
of the sensory organs during sleep (which seems to
have been demonstrated by Trumbull Ladd), we are,
nevertheless, able to explain this state of excitation
perception by consciousness of the preformed
dream-content; but we have found that the
preceding portions of the dream-process probably
follow a slow, fluctuating course. As for the riddle of
the superabundant dream-content compressed into
the briefest moment of time, we have been able to
contribute the explanation that the dream seizes
upon ready-made formations of the psychic life. We
have found that it is true that dreams are distorted
psychic apparatus; yet it cannot be denied that
these dream- thoughts have originated during the
day, and it is indispensable to assume that there is a
sleeping state of the psychic life. Thus, even the
doctrine of partial sleep received its due, but we
have found the characteristic feature of the sleeping
state not in the disintegration of the psychic system
of connections, but in the special attitude adopted
by the psychic system which is dominant during the
greater area within the scope of this kind of
connection than could have been suspected; we
have, however, found it merely an enforced
substitute for another, a correct and significant type
of association. To be sure, we too have called the
dream absurd, but examples have shown us how
wise the dream is when it simulates absurdity. As
regards the functions that have been attributed to
the dream, we are able to accept them all. That the
is "an archaic world of vast emotions and imperfect
thoughts," appear to us as happy anticipations of
our own exposition, which asserts that primitive
modes of operations that are suppressed during the
day play a part in the formation of dreams. We can
fully identify ourselves with Sully's statement, that
"our dreams bring back again our earlier and
successively developed personalities, our old ways of
regarding things, with impulses and modes of
but almost everything that he ascribes to the
dream-work is attributable to the activity of the
unconscious during the day, which instigates dreams
no less than neurotic symptoms. The dream- work
we had to separate from this activity as something
quite different and far more closely controlled.
Finally, we have by no means renounced the relation
of the dream to psychic disturbances, but have
given it, on new ground, a more solid foundation.
perfectly normal psychic activities, but on the other
hand we have found among the dream-thoughts a
number of entirely abnormal mental processes,
which extend also to the dream-content, and which
we reproduce in the interpretation of the dream. All
that we have termed the dream-work seems to
depart so completely from the psychic processes
which we recognize as correct and appropriate that
the severest judgments expressed by the writers
processes, and which mark them out as complicated
performances of a high order, we shall find repeated
in the dream-thoughts. There is, however, no need
to assume that this mental work is performed during
sleep; such an assumption would badly confuse the
conception of the psychic state of sleep to which we
have hitherto adhered. On the contrary, these
thoughts may very well have their origin in the
daytime, and, unremarked by our consciousness,
conscious depends upon a definite psychic function-
attention- being brought to bear. This seems to be
available only in a determinate quantity, which may
have been diverted from the train of thought in
question by other aims. Another way in which such
trains of thought may be withheld from
consciousness is the following: From our conscious
reflection we know that, when applying our
attention, we follow a particular course. But if that
Let us now recapitulate: We call such a train
of thought a preconscious train, and we believe it to
be perfectly correct, and that it may equally well be
a merely neglected train or one that has been
interrupted and suppressed. Let us also state in
plain terms how we visualize the movement of our
thought. We believe that a certain quantity of
excitation, which we call cathectic energy, is
displaced from a purposive idea along the
A train of thought thus incited in the Pcs
may either disappear spontaneously, or it may
continue. The former eventuality we conceive as
follows: it diffuses its energy through all the
association paths emanating from it, and throws the
entire chain of thoughts into a state of excitation,
which continues for a while, and then subsides,
through the excitation which had called for discharge
being transformed into dormant cathexis. If this first
then, that the hitherto preconscious train of thought
has been drawn into the unconscious.
Other constellations leading to dream-
formation might be as follows: The preconscious
train of thought might have been connected from
the beginning with the unconscious wish, and for
that reason might have met with rejection by the
dominating aim- cathexis. Or an unconscious wish
might become active for other (possibly somatic)
and bring together these transformations:
1. The intensities of the individual ideas
become capable of discharge in their entirety, and
pass from one idea to another, so that individual
ideas are formed which are endowed with great
intensity. Through the repeated occurrence of this
process, the intensity of an entire train of thought
may ultimately be concentrated in a single
conceptual unit. This is the fact of compression or
condensation the whole set of psychic connections
becomes transformed into the intensity of the idea-
content. The situation is the same as when, in the
case of a book, I italicize or print in heavy type any
word to which I attach outstanding value for the
understanding of the text. In speech, I should
pronounce the same word loudly, and deliberately,
and with emphasis. The first simile points
immediately to one of the examples which were
enemies are seen cowering at his feet; but he is no
longer made to seem a giant among dwarfs. At the
same time, in the bowing of the subordinate to his
superior, even in our own day, we have an echo of
this ancient principle of representation.
The direction followed by the condensations
of the dream is prescribed on the one hand by the
true preconscious relations of the dream-thoughts,
and, on the other hand, by the attraction of the
system.
2. By the free transference of intensities,
formations occur with extraordinary frequency when
we are trying to find verbal expression for
preconscious thoughts; these are considered slips of
the tongue.
3. The ideas which transfer their intensities
to one another are very loosely connected, and are
joined together by such forms of association as are
disdained by our serious thinking, and left to be
exploited solely by wit. In particular, assonances and
action.
which have previously been rationally formed are
subjected in the course of the dream-work. As the
main feature of these processes, we may see that
the greatest importance is attached to rendering the
cathecting energy mobile and capable of discharge;
the content and the intrinsic significance of the
psychic elements to which these cathexes adhere
become matters of secondary importance. One
might perhaps assume that condensation and
equivalent to the results of normal thinking, while
the other deals with these thoughts in a most
astonishing and, as it seems, incorrect way. The
latter process we have already set apart in chapter
VI as the dream-work proper. What can we say now
as to the derivation of this psychic process?
It would be impossible to answer this
question here if we had not penetrated a
considerable way into the psychology of the
treatment, and that by means of condensation and
compromise-formation, through superficial
associations which cover up contradictions, and
eventually along the path of regression, they have
been conveyed into the symptom. In view of the
complete identity between the peculiarities of the
dream-work and those of the psychic activity which
issues in psychoneurotic symptoms, we shall feel
justified in transferring to the dream the conclusions
cannot be refuted. But in order to enable us to say
just what repression is, after employing this term so
freely, we shall be obliged to make a further addition
to our psychological scaffolding.
We had elaborated the fiction of a primitive
psychic apparatus, the work of which is regulated by
the effort to avoid accumulation of excitation, and as
far as possible to maintain itself free from excitation.
For this reason it was constructed after the plan of a
pleasure, we call a wish. We have said that nothing
but a wish is capable of setting the apparatus in
motion and that the course of any excitation in the
apparatus is regulated automatically by the
perception of pleasure and pain. The first occurrence
of wishing may well have taken the form of a
hallucinatory cathexis of the memory of gratification.
But this hallucination, unless it could be maintained
to the point of exhaustion, proved incapable of
with gratification.
elaborated the scheme of the psychic apparatus;
these two systems are the germ of what we set up
in the fully developed apparatus as the Ucs and Pcs.
To change the outer world appropriately by
means of motility requires the accumulation of a
large total of experiences in the memory-systems,
as well as a manifold consolidation of the relations
which are evoked in this memory-material by
various directing ideas. We will now proceed further
part of the energic cathexes in a state of rest, and in
using only a small portion for its operations of
displacement. The mechanics of these processes is
entirely unknown to me; anyone who seriously
wishes to follow up these ideas must address himself
to the physical analogies, and find some way of
getting a picture of the sequence of motions which
ensues on the excitation of the neurones. Here I do
no more than hold fast to the idea that the activity
allows them to flow off into motility.
An interesting train of thought now presents
itself if we consider the relations of this inhibition of
discharge by the second system to the process of
regulation by the pain-principle. Let us now seek out
the counterpart of the primary experience of
gratification, namely, the objective experience of
fear. Let a perception-stimulus act on the primitive
apparatus and be the source of a pain-excitation.
way awakened, since the overflow of its excitation
into perception would, of course, evoke (or more
precisely, begin to evoke) pain. This turning away
from a recollection, which is merely a repetition of
the former flight from perception, is also facilitated
by the fact that, unlike the perception, the
recollection has not enough quality to arouse
consciousness, and thereby to attract fresh cathexis.
This effortless and regular turning away of the
memories stored up by experience, would be
obstructed. But two paths are now open: either the
work of the second system frees itself completely
from the pain-principle, and continues its course,
paying no heed to the pain attached to given
memories, or it contrives to cathect the memory of
the pain in such a manner as to preclude the
liberation of pain. We can reject the first possibility,
as the pain-principle also proves to act as a
excitation. Let us, however, keep a close hold on the
fact- for this is the key to the theory of repression-
that the second system can only cathect an idea
when it is in a position to inhibit any pain emanating
from this idea. Anything that withdrew itself from
this inhibition would also remain inaccessible for the
second system, i.e., would immediately be given up
by virtue of the pain- principle. The inhibition of
pain, however, need not be complete; it must be
of thought.
The psychic process which is alone tolerated
establish with the quantity of excitation thus
collected an identity of perception; the secondary
process has abandoned this intention, and has
adopted instead the aim of an identity of thought.
All thinking is merely a detour from the memory of
gratification (taken as a purposive idea) to the
identical cathexis of the same memory, which is to
be reached once more by the path of motor
experiences. Thought must concern itself with the
may also put difficulties in its way in the pursuit of
identity of thought. Hence, the tendency of the
thinking process must always be to free itself more
and more from exclusive regulation by the pain-
principle, and to restrict the development of affect
through the work of thought to the very minimum
which remains effective as a signal. This refinement
in functioning is to be achieved by a fresh hyper-
cathexis, effected with the help of consciousness.
factors in our development, one of which pertains
solely to the psychic apparatus, and has exercised a
determining influence on the relation of the two
systems, while the other operates fluctuatingly, and
introduces motive forces of organic origin into the
psychic life. Both originate in the infantile life, and
are a precipitate of the alteration which our psychic
and somatic organism has undergone since our
infantile years.
complete control over them perhaps only in the
prime of life. Owing to this belated arrival of the
secondary processes, the essence of our being,
consisting of unconscious wish-impulses, remains
something which cannot be grasped or inhibited by
the preconscious; and its part is once and for all
restricted to indicating the most appropriate paths
for the wish-impulses originating in the unconscious.
These unconscious wishes represent for all
these wishes would no longer produce an affect of
pleasure, but one of pain; and it is just this
conversion of affect that constitutes the essence of
what we call repression. In what manner and by
what motive forces such a conversion can take place
constitutes the problem of repression, which we
need here only to touch upon in passing. It will
suffice to note the fact that such a conversion of
affect occurs in the course of development (one
into play, and causes the Pcs to turn away from
these transference-thoughts. These latter are left to
themselves, are repressed, and thus, the existence
of a store of infantile memories, withdrawn from the
beginning from the Pcs, becomes the preliminary
condition of repression.
In the most favourable case, the generation
of pain terminates so soon as the cathexis is
withdrawn from the transference-thoughts in the
unconscious wish) break through in some form of
compromise through symptom-formation. But from
the moment that the repressed thoughts are
powerfully cathected by the unconscious wish-
impulse, but forsaken by the preconscious cathexis,
they succumb to the primary psychic process, and
aim only at motor discharge; or, if the way is clear,
at hallucinatory revival of the desired identity of
perception. We have already found, empirically, that
defective thinking. but the modes of operation of the
psychic apparatus when freed from inhibition. Thus
we see that the process of the conveyance of the
preconscious excitation to motility occurs in
accordance with the same procedure, and that in the
linkage of preconscious ideas with words we may
easily find manifested the same displacements and
confusions (which we ascribe to inattention). Finally,
a proof of the increased work made necessary by
which has, of course, grown out of an original bi-
sexuality, or in consequence of unfavourable
influences in our sexual life); and which therefore
supply the motive-power for all psychoneurotic
symptom-formation. It is only by the introduction of
these sexual forces that the gaps still demonstrable
in the theory of repression can be filled. Here, I will
leave it undecided whether the postulate of the
sexual and infantile holds good for the theory of
two psychic systems, their modes of operation, and
the fact of repression. It does not greatly matter
whether I have conceived the psychological relations
at issue with approximate correctness, or, as is
easily possible in such a difficult matter, wrongly
and imperfectly. However our views may change
about the interpretation of the psychic censorship or
the correct and the abnormal elaboration of the
dream-content. it remains certain that such
given phenomena we infer the nature of their motive
forces, we find that the psychic mechanism utilized
by the neuroses is not newly-created by a morbid
disturbance that lays hold of the psychic life, but lies
in readiness in the normal structure of our psychic
apparatus. The two psychic systems, the frontier-
censorship between them, the inhibition and
overlaying of the one activity by the other, the
relations of both to consciousness- or whatever may
cases; and in tangible experience, it has been found
true in at least a great number of cases, which
happen to display most plainly the more striking
features of the dream-life. The suppressed psychic
material, which in the waking state has been
prevented from expression and cut off from internal
perception by the mutual neutralization of
contradictory attitudes, finds ways and means,
under the sway of compromise-formations, of
For disease- at all events that which is rightly called
functional- does not necessarily presuppose the
destruction of this apparatus, or the establishment
of new cleavages in its interior: it can be explained
dynamically by the strengthening and weakening of
the components of the play of forces, so many of the
activities of which are covered up in normal
functioning. It might be shown elsewhere how the
fact that the apparatus is a combination of two
single system.[44]
auxiliary ideas, when we think we are in a position
to replace them by something which comes closer to
the unknown reality. Let us now try to correct
certain views which may have taken a misconceived
form as long as we regarded the two systems, in the
crudest and most obvious sense, as two localities
within the psychic apparatus- views which have left
a precipitate in the terms repression and
penetration. Thus, when we say that an unconscious
assume that an arrangement is really broken up in
the one psychic locality and replaced by a new one
in the other locality. For these comparisons we will
substitute a description which would seem to
correspond more closely to the real state of affairs;
we will say that an energic cathexis is shifted to or
withdrawn from a certain arrangement, so that the
psychic formation falls under the domination of a
given instance or is withdrawn from it. Here again
innervation.[45]
Nevertheless, I think it expedient and
correlate corresponding to them. Everything that
can become an object of internal perception is
virtual, like the image in the telescope produced by
the crossing of light-rays. But we are justified in
thinking of the systems- which have nothing psychic
in themselves, and which never become accessible
to our psychic perception- as something similar to
the lenses of the telescope, which project the image.
If we continue this comparison, we might say that
a new medium.
that the psychic is the conscious, and that
unconscious psychic occurrences are an obvious
contradiction, there was no possibility of a
physician's observations of abnormal mental states
being turned to any psychological account. The
physician and the philosopher can meet only when
both acknowledge that unconscious psychic
processes is the appropriate and justified expression
for all established fact. The physician cannot but
arousing consciousness.[47] The physician, it is
true, does not learn of these unconscious processes
until they have produced an effect on consciousness
which admits of communication or observation. But
this effect on consciousness may show a psychic
character which differs completely from the
unconscious process, so that internal perception
cannot possibly recognize in the first a substitute for
the second. The physician must reserve himself the
question which is answered in the negative by the
dream, which shows that the concept of the psyche
extends beyond that of consciousness, much as the
gravitational force of a star extends beyond its
sphere of luminosity" (Philos. d. Mystik, p. 47).
"It is a truth which cannot be sufficiently
emphasized that the concepts of consciousness and
of the psyche are not co-extensive" (p. 306).
A return from the over-estimation of the
imperfectly communicated to us by the data of
consciousness as is the external world by the reports
of our sense-organs.
We get rid of a series of dream-problems
which have claimed much attention from earlier
writers on the subject when the old antithesis
between conscious life and dream-life is discarded,
and the unconscious psychic assigned to its proper
place. Thus, many of the achievements which are a
the dream-disguise from this, as the contribution of
the dream-work, and a mark of the assistance of
dark powers in the depths of the psyche (cf. the
devil in Tartini's sonata-dream). The intellectual
achievement as such belongs to the same psychic
forces as are responsible for all such achievements
during the day. We are probably much too inclined
to over-estimate the conscious character even of
intellectual and artistic production. From the reports
It hardly seems worth while to take up the
historical significance of dreams as a separate
theme. Where, for instance, a leader has been
impelled by a dream to engage in a bold
undertaking, the success of which has had the effect
of changing history, a new problem arises only so
long as the dream is regarded as a mysterious
power and contrasted with other more familiar
psychic forces. The problem disappears as soon as
It is not without purpose that I use the
expression in our unconscious, for what we so call
does not coincide with the unconscious of the
philosophers, nor with the unconscious of Lipps. As
they use the term, it merely means the opposite of
the conscious. That there exist not only conscious
but also unconscious psychic processes is the
opinion at issue, which is so hotly contested and so
energetically defended. Lipps enunciates the more
it occurs even in normal psychic life. There are
consequently two kinds of unconscious, which have
not as yet been distinguished by psychologists. Both
are unconscious in the psychological sense; but in
our sense the first, which we call Ucs, is likewise
incapable of consciousness; whereas the second we
call Pcs because its excitations, after the observance
of certain rules, are capable of reaching
consciousness; perhaps not before they have again
voluntary motility, and has control of the emission of
a mobile cathectic energy, a portion of which is
familiar to us as attention.[49]
We must also steer clear of the distinction
between the super- conscious and the subconscious,
which has found such favour in the more recent
literature on the psychoneuroses, for just such a
distinction seems to emphasize the equivalence of
what is psychic and what is conscious.
retaining the trace of changes: i.e., devoid of
memory. The psychic apparatus which, with the
sense-organ of the P-systems, is turned to the outer
world, is itself the outer world for the sense-organ of
Cs, whose teleological justification depends on this
relationship. We are here once more confronted with
the principle of the succession of instances which
seems to dominate the structure of the apparatus.
The material of excitation flows to the sense-organ
function to consciousness; it appeared to them a
superfluous mirroring of the completed psychic
process. The analogy of our Cs system with the
perception-systems relieves us of this
embarrassment. We see that perception through our
sense-organs results in directing an attention-
cathexis to the paths along which the incoming
sensory excitation diffuses itself; the qualitative
excitation of the P-system serves the mobile
automatically, but it is quite possible that
consciousness contributes a second and more subtle
regulation of these qualities, which may even
oppose the first, and perfect the functional capacity
of the apparatus, by placing it in a position contrary
to its original design, subjecting even that which
induces pain to cathexis and to elaboration. We
learn from neuro- psychology that an important part
in the functional activity of the apparatus is ascribed
idea which is to be warded off may fail to become
conscious because it has succumbed to repression, it
may on other occasions come to be repressed
simply because it has been withdrawn from
conscious perception on other grounds. These are
clues which we make use of in therapy in order to
undo accomplished repressions.
The value of the hyper-cathexis which is
produced by the regulating influence of the Cs
to draw upon them the attention of consciousness,
which in turn endows thought with a new mobile
cathexis.
It is only on a dissection of hysterical mental
processes that the manifold nature of the problems
of consciousness becomes apparent. One then
receives the impression that the transition from the
preconscious to the conscious cathexis is associated
with a censorship similar to that between Ucs and
On the occasion of a consultation a few
years ago, the patient was an intelligent-looking girl
with a simple, unaffected manner. She was
strangely attired; for whereas a woman's dress is
usually carefully thought out to the last pleat, one of
her stockings was hanging down and two of the
buttons of her blouse were undone. She complained
of pains in one of her legs, and exposed her calf
without being asked to do so. Her chief complaint,
censorship had been hoodwinked so successfully
that under the mask of an innocent complaint a
phantasy was admitted to consciousness which
otherwise would have remained in the preconscious.
Another example: I began the psycho-
analytic treatment of a boy fourteen who was
suffering from tic convulsif, hysterical vomiting,
headache, etc., by assuring him that after closing
his eyes he would see pictures or that ideas would
finally, he saw the image of an old peasant mowing
the grass in front of his father's house far away. A
few days later I discovered the meaning of this
series of pictures. Disagreeable family circumstances
had made the boy excited and nervous. Here was a
case of a harsh, irascible father, who had lived
unhappily with the boy's mother, and whose
educational methods consisted of threats; he had
divorced his gentle and delicate wife, and remarried;
returning the reproaches and threats which the child
had once heard his father utter because he played
with his genitals (the draught-board; the prohibited
moves; the dagger with which one could kill). We
have here long-impressed memories and their
unconscious derivatives which, under the guise of
meaningless pictures, have slipped into
consciousness by the devious paths opened to them.
If I were asked what is the theoretical value
the unconscious impulses revealed by dreams the
value of real forces in the psychic life? Is the ethical
significance of the suppressed wishes to be lightly
disregarded, since, just as they now create dreams,
they may some day create other things?
I do not feel justified in answering these
questions. I have not followed up this aspect of the
problem of dreams. In any case, however, I believe
that the Roman Emperor was in the wrong in
unconscious wishes, I cannot say. Reality must, of
course, be denied to all transitory and intermediate
thoughts. If we had before us the unconscious
wishes, brought to their final and truest expression,
we should still do well to remember that psychic
reality is a special form of existence which must not
be confounded with material reality. It seems,
therefore, unnecessary that people should refuse to
accept the responsibility for the immorality of their
disappears.
"What a dream has told us of our relations
to the present (reality) we will then seek also in our
For all practical purposes in judging human
character, a man's actions and conscious
expressions of thought are in most cases sufficient.
Actions, above all, deserve to be placed in the front
rank; for many impulses which penetrate into
consciousness are neutralized by real forces in the
psychic life before they find issue in action; indeed,
the reason why they frequently do not encounter
any psychic obstacle on their path is because the
the past. For in every sense a dream has its origin in
the past. The ancient belief that dreams reveal the
future is not indeed entirely devoid of the truth. By
representing a wish as fulfilled the dream certainly
leads us into the future; but this future, which the
dreamer accepts as his present, has been shaped in
the likeness of the past by the indestructible wish.
Footnotes
inherited instincts, and a preparation for their later
serious activity, thus setting up a fonction ludique
for the dream. A little while before Maeder, Alfred
Adler likewise emphasized the function of thinking
ahead in the dream. (An analysis which I published
in 1905 contained a dream which may be conceived
as a resolution-dream, which was repeated night
after night until it was realized.)
[34] General Introduction to Psycho-
anaemia.'] are mine.
[41] We put this case in the file of apyretic
delirias of inanition, for it is to cerebral anaemia that
we attach this particular state.
[42] Here, as elsewhere, there are gaps in
the treatment of the subject, which I have
deliberately left, because to fill them up would, on
the one hand, require excessive labour, and, on the
other hand, I should have to depend on material
idea of the problems to which the further dissection
of the dream- work leads, and to indicate the other
themes with which these are connected. It was,
however, not always easy to decide just where the
pursuit should be discontinued. That I have not
treated exhaustively the part which the psycho-
sexual life plays in the dream, and have avoided the
interpretation of dreams of an obviously sexual
content, is due to a special reason- which may not
get deeply involved in the still unexplained problems
of perversion and bisexuality; it was for this reason
that I reserved this material for treatment
elsewhere.
[43] If I cannot influence the gods, I will stir
up Acheron.
[44] The dream is not the only phenomenon
that permits us to base our psycho-pathology on
psychology. In a short unfinished series of articles in
of Everyday Life.)
essential character of a preconscious idea was its
connection with the residues of verbal ideas. See
The Unconscious, p. 428 below.
[46] Der Begriff des Unbewussten in der
Psychologie. Lecture delivered at the Third
International Psychological Congress at Munich,
1897.
[47] I am happy to be able to point to an
author who has drawn from the study of dreams the