INTERPRETATION OF DREAMS
Get any book for free on: http://www.v84u.com
307
E. THE PRIMARY AND SECONDARY PROCESSES; REPRESSION
In attempting to penetrate more profoundly into the psychology of the
dream-processes, I
have undertaken a difficult task, to which, indeed, my powers of exposition are
hardly
adequate. To reproduce the simultaneity of so complicated a scheme in terms of a
successive description, and at the same time to make each part appear free from
all
assumptions, goes fairly beyond my powers. I have now to atone for the fact that
in my
exposition of the psychology of dreams I have been unable to 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
of all the difficulties which this involves for the reader, but I know of no way
to avoid
them.
Since I am dissatisfied with this state of affairs, I am glad to dwell upon
another point of
view, which would seem to enhance the value of my efforts. As was shown in the
introductory section, I found myself confronted with a theme which had been
marked by
the sharpest contradictions on the part of those who had written on it. In the
course of our
treatment of the problems of the dream, room has been found for most of these
contradictory views. We have been compelled to take decided 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 generally
confirmed by the discovery of the hidden dream-thoughts. These concern
themselves
only with things that seem to us important and of great interest. Dreams never
occupy
themselves with trifles. But we have accepted also the opposite view, namely,
that the
dream gathers up the indifferent residues of the day, and cannot seize upon any
important
interest of the day until it has in some measure withdrawn itself from waking
activity. We
have found that this holds true of the dream-content, which by means of
distortion gives
the dream-thought an altered expression. We have said 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 the main
foundations of
our doctrine; in our theory of dreams we have assigned to a wish of infantile
origin the
part of the indispensable motive-power of dream-formation. It has not, of
course,
occurred to us to doubt the experimentally demonstrated significance of external
sensory
stimuli during sleep; but we have placed this material in the same relation' to
the dreamwish
as the thought-residues left over from our waking activity. We need not dispute
the
fact that the dream interprets objective sensory stimuli after the manner of an
illusion; but
we have supplied the motive for this interpretation, which has been left
indeterminate by
INTERPRETATION OF DREAMS
Get any book for free on: http://www.v84u.com
308
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 by the regressive revival of the memories active behind the dream. As
to the
internal organic sensations, which are wont to be taken as the cardinal point of
the
explanation of dreams, these, too, find a place in our conception, though indeed
a more
modest one. These sensations -- the sensations of falling, of soaring, or of
being inhibited
-- represent an ever-ready material, which the dream-work can employ to express
the
dream-thought as often as need arises.
That the dream-process is a rapid and momentary one is, we believe, true as
regards the
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
readymade formations of the psychic life. We have found that it is true that
dreams are
distorted and mutilated by the memory, but that this fact presents no
difficulties, as it is
only the last manifest portion of a process of distortion which has been going
on from the
very beginning of the dream-work. In the embittered controversy, which has
seemed
irreconcilable, whether the psychic life is asleep at night, or can make the
same use of all
its faculties as during the day, we have been able to conclude that both sides
are right, but
that neither is entirely so. In the dream-thoughts we found evidence of a highly
complicated intellectual activity, operating with almost all the resources of
the 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 day -- the attitude of the wish to sleep. The deflection
from the outer
world retains its significance for our view, too; though not the only factor at
work, it
helps to make possible the regressive course of the dream-representation. The
abandonment of voluntary guidance of the flow of ideas is incontestable; but
psychic life
does not thereby become aimless, for we have seen that upon relinquishment of
the
voluntary directing ideas, involuntary ones take charge. On the other hand, we
have not
only recognised the loose associative connection of the dream, but have brought
a far
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 dream relieves the mind, like a safety-valve, and that, as Robert has put
it, all kinds of
harmful material are rendered harmless by representation in the dream, not only
coincides
exactly with our own theory of the twofold wish-fulfilment in the dream, but in
its very
wording becomes more intelligible for us than it is for Robert himself. The free
INTERPRETATION OF DREAMS
Get any book for free on: http://www.v84u.com
309
indulgence of the psyche in the play of its faculties is reproduced in our
theory as the
noninterference of the preconscious activity with the dream. The `return to the
embryonal
standpoint of psychic life in the dream,' and Havelock Ellis's remark that the
dream 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 reaction which ruled us long ago'; and for us, as for Delage, the
suppressed
material becomes the mainspring of the dream.
We have fully accepted the role that Scherner ascribes to the dream-fantasy, and
his own
interpretations, but we have been obliged to transpose them, as it were, to
another part of
the problem. It is not the dream that creates the fantasy, but the activity of
unconscious
fantasy that plays the leading part in the formation of the dream-thoughts. We
remain
indebted to Scherner for directing us to the source of the dream-thoughts, 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.
Held together by the new features in our theory as by a superior unity, we find
the most
varied and most contradictory conclusions of other writers fitting into our
structure; many
of them are given a different turn, but only a few of them are wholly rejected.
But our
own structure is still unfinished. For apart from the many obscure questions in
which we
have involved ourselves by our advance into the dark regions of psychology, we
are now,
it would seem, embarrassed by a new contradiction. On the one hand, we have made
it
appear that the dream-thoughts proceed from 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 recognise as correct and
appropriate
that the severest judgments expressed by the writers mentioned as to the low
level of
psychic achievement of dreams must appear well founded.
Here, perhaps, only further investigations can provide an explanation and set us
on the
right path. Let me pick out for renewed attention one of the constellations
which lead to
dream-formation.
We have learned that the dream serves as a substitute for a number of thoughts
derived
from our daily life, and which fit together with perfect logic. We cannot,
therefore, doubt
that these thoughts have their own origin in our normal mental life. All the
qualities
which we value in our thought-processes, and which mark them out as complicated
performances of a high order, we shall find repeated in the dream-thoughts.
There is,
INTERPRETATION OF DREAMS
Get any book for free on: http://www.v84u.com
310
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, may have gone on from their
first
stimulus until, at the onset of sleep, they have reached completion. If we are
to conclude
anything from this state of affairs, it can only be that it proves that the most
complex
mental operations are possible without the co-operation of consciousness -- a
truth which
we have had to learn anyhow from every psychoanalysis of a patient suffering
from
hysteria or obsessions. These dream-thoughts are certainly not in themselves
incapable of
consciousness; if we have not become conscious of them during the day, this may
have
been due to various reasons. The act of becoming 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 course leads
us to an idea
which cannot withstand criticism, we break off and allow the cathexis of
attention to
drop. Now, it would seem that the train of thought thus started and abandoned
may
continue to develop without our attention returning to it, unless at some point
it attains a
specially high intensity which compels attention. An initial conscious rejection
by our
judgment, on the ground of incorrectness or uselessness for the immediate
purpose of the
act of thought, may, therefore, be the cause of a thought-process going on
unnoticed by
consciousness until the onset of sleep.
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
visualise 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
association
paths selected by this directing idea. A `neglected' train of thought has
received no such
cathexis, and the cathexis has been withdrawn from one that was `suppressed' `or
rejected'; both have thus been left to their own excitations. The train of
thought cathected
by some aim becomes able under certain conditions to attract the attention of
consciousness, and by the mediation of consciousness it then receives
`hypercathexis'.
We shall be obliged presently to elucidate our assumptions as to the nature and
function
of consciousness.
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
eventuality occurs, the process has no further significance for dream-formation.
But other
directing ideas are lurking in our preconscious, which have their source in our
unconscious and ever-active wishes. These may gain control of the excitation in
the circle
of thoughts thus left to itself, establish a connection between it and the
unconscious wish,
INTERPRETATION OF DREAMS
Get any book for free on: http://www.v84u.com
311
and transfer to it the energy inherent in the unconscious wish. Henceforth the
neglected
or suppressed train of thought is in a position to maintain itself, although
this
reinforcement gives it no claim to access to consciousness. We may say, 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) reasons,
and of
its own accord seek a transference to the psychic residues not cathected by the
Pcs. All
three cases have the same result: there is established in the preconscious a
train of
thought which, having been abandoned by the preconscious cathexis, has acquired
cathexis from the unconscious wish.
From this point onward the train of thought is subjected to a series of
transformations
which we no longer recognise as normal psychic processes, and which give a
result that
we find strange, a psychopathological formation. Let us now emphasise 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 with which we became acquainted when
investigating the dream-work. It is condensation that is mainly responsible for
the strange
impression produced by dreams, for we know of nothing analogous to it in the
normal
psychic life that is accessible to consciousness. We get here, too, ideas which
are of great
psychic significance as nodal points or as end-results of whole chains of
thought, but this
value is not expressed by any character actually manifest for our internal
perception;
what is represented in it is not in any way made more intensive. In the process
of
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
italicise 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
given
of the dream-work (trimethylamine in the dream of Irma's injection). Historians
of art call
our attention to the fact that the most ancient sculptures known to history
follow a similar
principle, in expressing the rank of the persons represented by the size of the
statues. The
king is made two or three times as tall as his retinue or his vanquished
enemies. But a
work of art of the Roman period makes use of more subtle means to accomplish the
same
end. The figure of the Emperor is placed in the centre, erect and in his full
height, and
special care is bestowed on the modelling of this figure; his 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.
INTERPRETATION OF DREAMS
Get any book for free on: http://www.v84u.com
312
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 visual memories in the unconscious. The success of the
condensationwork
produces those intensities which are required for penetration to the
perceptionsystem.
2. By the free transference of intensities, and in the service of the
condensation,
intermediary ideas -- compromises, as it were -- are formed (cf. the numerous
examples).
This, also, is something unheard of in the normal movement of our ideas, where
what is
of most importance is the selection and the retention of the right conceptual
material. On
the other hand, composite and compromise 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
punning
associations are treated as equal in value to any other associations.
4. Contradictory thoughts do not try to eliminate one another, but continue side
by side,
and often combine to form condensation-products, as though no contradiction
existed; or
they form compromises for which we should never forgive our thought, but which
we
frequently sanction in our action.
These are some of the most conspicuous abnormal processes to which the
dream-thoughts
which have previously been rationally formed are subjected in the course of the
dreamwork.
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 compromise-formation are effected only in the service of regression, when
the
occasion arises for changing thoughts into images. But the analysis -- and still
more
plainly the synthesis -- of such dreams as show no regression towards images,
e.g. the
dream `Autodidasker: Conversation with Professor N.', reveals the same processes
of
displacement and condensation as do the rest.
We cannot, therefore, avoid the conclusion that two kinds of essentially
different psychic
processes participate in dream-formation; one forms perfectly correct and
fitting dreamthoughts,
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 Six 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 neuroses, and especially of
hysteria. From
this, however, we learn that the same `incorrect' psychic processes -- as well
as others not
INTERPRETATION OF DREAMS
Get any book for free on: http://www.v84u.com
313
enumerated -- control the production of hysterical symptoms. In hysteria, too,
we find at
first a series of perfectly correct and fitting thoughts, equivalent to our
conscious ones, of
whose existence in this form we can, however, learn nothing, i.e. which we can
only
subsequently reconstruct. If they have forced their way anywhere to perception,
we
discover from the analysis of the symptom formed that these normal thoughts have
been
subjected to abnormal treatment, and that by means of condensation and
compromiseformation,
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 urged upon us by hysteria.
From the theory of hysteria we borrow the proposition that such an abnormal
psychic
elaboration of a normal train of thought takes place only when the latter has
been used
for the transference of an unconscious wish which dates from the infantile life
and is in a
state of repression. Complying with this proposition, we have built up the
theory of the
dream on the assumption that the actuating dream-wish invariably originates in
the
unconscious; which, as we have ourselves admitted, cannot be universally
demonstrated,
even though it 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
reflex apparatus; motility, in the first place as the path to changes within the
body, was
the channel of discharge at its disposal. We then discussed the psychic results
of
experiences of gratification, and were able at this point to introduce a second
assumption,
namely, that the accumulation of excitation -- by processes that do not concern
us here --
is felt as pain, and sets the apparatus in operation in order to bring about
again a state of
gratification, in which the diminution of excitation is perceived as pleasure.
Such a
current in the apparatus, issuing from pain and striving for 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 bringing
about a
cessation of the need, and consequently of securing the pleasure connected with
gratification.
Thus, there was required a second activity -- in our terminology the activity of
a second
system -- which would not allow the memory-cathexis to force its way to
perception and
thence to bind the psychic forces, but would lead the excitation emanating from
the needstimulus
by a detour, which by means of voluntary motility would ultimately so change
the outer world as to permit the real perception of the gratifying object. Thus
far we have
INTERPRETATION OF DREAMS
Get any book for free on: http://www.v84u.com
314
already 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 the 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 with our assumptions. The activity
of the
second system, groping in many directions, tentatively sending forth cathexes
and
retracting them, needs on the one hand full command over all memory-material,
but on
the other hand it would be a superfluous expenditure of energy were it to send
along the
individual thought-paths large quantities of cathexis, which would then flow
away to no
purpose and thus diminish the quantity needed for changing the outer world. Out
of a
regard for purposiveness, therefore, I postulate that the second system succeeds
in
maintaining the greater 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 of the first y-system aims at the
free outflow of
the quantities of excitation, and that the second system, by means of the
cathexes
emanating from it, effects an inhibition of this outflow, a transformation into
dormant
cathexis, probably with a rise of potential. I therefore assume that the course
taken by any
excitation under the control of the second system is bound to quite different
mechanical
conditions from those which obtain under the control of the first system. After
the second
system has completed its work of experimental thought, it removes the inhibition
and
damming up of the excitations and 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
painprinciple.
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. There will then ensue
uncoordinated
motor manifestations, which will go on until one of these withdraws the
apparatus from
perception, and at the same time from the pain. On the reappearance of the
percept this
manifestation will immediately be repeated (perhaps as a movement of flight),
until the
percept has again disappeared. But in this case no tendency will remain to
recathect the
perception of the source of pain by hallucination or otherwise. On the contrary,
there will
be a tendency in the primary apparatus to turn away again from this painful
memoryimage
immediately if it is in any 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 psychic process from the memory of
anything
that had once been painful gives us the prototype and the first example of
psychic
INTERPRETATION OF DREAMS
Get any book for free on: http://www.v84u.com
315
repression. We all know how much of this turning away from the painful, the
tactics of
the ostrich, may still be shown as present even in the normal psychic life of
adults.
In obedience to the pain-principle, therefore, the first y-system is quite
incapable of
introducing anything unpleasant into the thought-nexus. The system cannot do
anything
but wish. If this were to remain so, the activity of thought of the second
system, which
needs to have at its disposal all 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 regulator of the cycle of excitation in
the second
system; we are therefore thrown back upon the second possibility, namely, that
this
system cathects a memory in such a manner as to inhibit any outflow of
excitation from
it, and hence, also, the outflow, comparable to a motor-innervation, needed for
the
development of pain. And thus, setting out from two different starting-points,
i.e. from
regard for the pain-principle, and from the principle of the least expenditure
of
innervation, we are led to the hypothesis that cathexis through the second
system is at the
same time an inhibition of the discharge of 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 permitted to
begin, since
this indicates to the second system the nature of the memory, and possibly its
lack of
fitness for the purpose sought by the process of thought.
The psychic process which is alone tolerated by the first system I shall now
call the
primary process; and that which results under the inhibiting action of the
second system I
shall call the secondary process. I can also show at another point for what
purpose the
second system is obliged to correct the primary process. The primary process
strives for
discharge of the excitation in order to 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 connecting-paths between ideas without
allowing
itself to be misled by their intensities. But it is obvious that condensations
of ideas and
intermediate or compromise-formations are obstacles to the attainment of the
identity
which is aimed at; by substituting one idea for another they swerve away from
the path
which would have led onward from the first idea. Such procedures are, therefore,
carefully avoided in our secondary thinking. It will readily be seen, moreover,
that the
pain-principle, although at other times it provides the thought-process with its
most
important clues, 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
INTERPRETATION OF DREAMS
Get any book for free on: http://www.v84u.com
316
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. But we are aware that this refinement is seldom
completely
successful, even in normal psychic life, and that our thinking always remains
liable to
falsification by the intervention of the pain-principle.
This, however, is not the breach in the functional efficiency of our psychic
apparatus
which makes it possible for thoughts representing the result of the secondary
thoughtwork
to fall into the power of the primary psychic process; by which formula we may
now describe the operations resulting in dreams and the symptoms of hysteria.
This
inadequacy results from the converging of two 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.
When I termed one of the psychic processes in the psychic apparatus the primary
process,
I did so not only in consideration of its status and function, but was also able
to take
account of the temporal relationship actually involved. So far as we know, a
psychic
apparatus possessing only the primary process does not exist, and is to that
extent a
theoretical fiction; but this at least is a fact: that the primary processes are
present in the
apparatus from the beginning, while the secondary processes only take shape
gradually
during the course of life, inhibiting and overlaying the primary, whilst gaining
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
wishimpulses
originating in the unconscious. These unconscious wishes represent for all
subsequent psychic strivings a compulsion to which they must submit themselves,
although they may perhaps endeavour to divert them and to guide them to superior
aims.
In consequence of this retardation, an extensive region of the memory-material
remains
in fact inaccessible to preconscious cathexis.
Now among these wish-impulses originating in the infantile life, indestructible
and
incapable of inhibition, there are some the fulfilments of which have come to be
in
contradiction with the purposive ideas of our secondary thinking. The fulfilment
of 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 touch upon in passing. It will
suffice to
note the fact that such a conversion of affect occurs in the course of
development (one
need only think of the emergence of disgust, originally absent in infantile
life), and that it
is connected with the activity of the secondary system. The memories from which
the
unconscious wish evokes a liberation of affect have never been accessible to the
Pcs., and
for that reason this liberation cannot be inhibited. It is precisely on account
of this
INTERPRETATION OF DREAMS
Get any book for free on: http://www.v84u.com
317
generation of affect that these ideas are not now accessible even by way of the
preconscious thoughts to which they have transferred the energy of the wishes
connected
with them. On the contrary, the pain-principle comes 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 Pcs., and this result shows that
the
intervention of the pain-principle is appropriate. It is otherwise, however, if
the repressed
unconscious wish receives an organic reinforcement which it can put at the
service of its
transference-thoughts, and by which it can enable them to attempt to break
through with
their excitation, even if the cathexis of the Pcs. has been taken away from
them. A
defensive struggle then ensues, inasmuch as the Pcs. reinforces the opposite to
the
repressed thoughts (counter-cathexis), and the eventual outcome is that the
transferencethoughts
(the carriers of 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 the `incorrect' processes
described
are enacted only with thoughts which are in a state of repression. We are now in
a
position to grasp yet another part of the total scheme of the facts. These
`incorrect'
processes are the primary processes of the psychic apparatus; they occur
wherever ideas
abandoned by the preconscious cathexis are left to themselves and can become
filled with
the uninhibited energy which flows from the unconscious and strives for
discharge. There
are further facts which go to show that the processes described as `incorrect'
are not really
falsifications of our normal procedure, or defective thinking, but the modes of
operation
of the psychic apparatus when freed from inhibition. Thus we see that the
process of
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 the inhibition of these
primary
modes of procedure might be found in the fact that we achieve a comical effect,
a surplus
to be discharged through laughter, if we allow these modes of thought to come to
consciousness.
The theory of the psychoneuroses asserts with absolute certainty that it can
only be sexual
wish-impulses from the infantile life, which have undergone repression
(affectconversion)
during the developmental period of childhood, which are capable of renewal
at later periods of development (whether as a result of our sexual constitution,
which has,
of course, grown out of an original bisexuality, 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
INTERPRETATION OF DREAMS
Get any book for free on: http://www.v84u.com
318
dreams as well; I am not completing the latter, because in assuming that the
dream-wish
invariably originates in the unconscious I have already gone a step beyond the
demonstrable.1 Nor will I inquire further into the nature of the difference
between the
play of psychic forces in dream-formation and in the formation of hysterical
symptoms,
since there is missing here the needed fuller knowledge of one of the two things
to be
compared. But there is another point which I regard as important, and I will
confess at
once that it was only on account of this point that I entered upon all the
discussions
concerning the 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 processes are active in dream-formation, and that in their
essentials they
reveal the closest analogy with the processes observed in the formation of
hysterical
symptoms. Now the dream is not a pathological phenomenon; it does not presuppose
any
disturbance of our psychic equilibrium; and it does not leave behind it any
weakening of
our efficiency or capacities. The objection that no conclusions can be drawn
about the
dreams of healthy persons from my own dreams and from those of my neurotic
patients
may be rejected without comment. If, then, from the nature of the given
phenomena we
infer the nature of their motive forces, we find that the psychic mechanism
utilised 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 frontiercensorship between them, the inhibition and overlaying of
the one
activity by the other, the relations of both to consciousness -- or whatever may
take the
place of these concepts on a juster interpretation of the actual relations --
all these belong
to the normal structure of our psychic instrument, and the dream shows us one of
the
paths which lead to a knowledge of this structure. If we wish to be content with
a
minimum of perfectly assured additions to our knowledge, we shall say that the
dream
affords proof that the suppressed material continues to exist even in the normal
person
and remains capable of psychic activity. Dreams are one of the manifestations of
this
suppressed material; theoretically this is true in all 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 neutralisation of contradictory attitudes, finds ways
and means,
under the sway of compromise-formations, of obtruding itself on consciousness
during
the night.
Flectere si nequeo Superos, Acheronta movebo.
At any rate, the interpretation of dreams is the via regia to a knowledge of the
unconscious element in our psychic life.
By the analysis of dreams we obtain some insight into the composition of this
most
marvellous and most mysterious of instruments; it is true that this only takes
us a little
way, but it gives us a start which enables us, setting out from the angle of
other (properly
INTERPRETATION OF DREAMS
Get any book for free on: http://www.v84u.com
319
pathological) formations, to penetrate further in our disjoining of the
instrument. 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 instances also permits of a refinement of its normal
functioning
which would have been impossible to a single system.2
1 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 which is foreign to
the dream.
Thus, for example, I have avoided stating whether I give the word `suppressed' a
different
meaning from that of the word `repressed'. No doubt, however, it will have
become clear
that the latter emphasises more than the former the relation to the unconscious.
I have not
gone into the problem which obviously arises, of why the dream-thoughts undergo
distortion by the censorship even when they abandon the progressive path to
consciousness, and choose the path of regression. And so with other similar
omissions. I
have, above all, sought to give some 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 perhaps be that which the reader would
expect.
It is absolutely alien to my views and my neuropathological doctrines to regard
the sexual
life as a pudendum with which neither the physician nor the scientific
investigator should
concern himself. To me, the moral indignation which prompted the translator of
Artemidorus of Daldis to keep from the reader's knowledge the chapter on sexual
dreams
contained in the Symbolism of Dreams is merely ludicrous. For my own part, what
decided my procedure was solely the knowledge that in the explanation of sexual
dreams
I should be bound to 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.
2 The dream is not the only phenomenon that permits us to base our
psychopathology on
psychology. In a short unfinished series of articles in the Monatsschrift für
Psychiatrie
und Neurologie (Über den psychischen Mechanismus der Vergesslichkeit, 1898, and
Über Deckerinnerungen, 1899) I attempted to interpret a number of psychic
manifestations from everyday life in support of the same conception. (These and
other
articles on `Forgetting', `Lapses of Speech', etc., have now been published in
the
Psychopathology of Everyday Life.)
