CASSANDRA'S DAUGHTER
         BY JOSEPH SCHWARTZ (1999, Allen Lane: The Penguin Press)

                     Reviewer: Anthony Stadlen

   'I have written this account,' Dr Schwartz tells 
us (p.14), 'as a guide to psychoanalysis, not only to 
show its strengths and weaknesses, but also to show just 
how interesting psychoanalysis really is.'  This suggests 
that Freud and a few other analysts did not show just how 
interesting psychoanalysis really is. [1]

   Dr Schwartz sets himself at least three main tasks.  
First, he tries to show that psychoanalysis is a science, 
just as Freud said it was, though not quite in the way 
that Freud said it was.  Second, he tries to show that 
the 'science' of psychoanalysis has undergone a 'paradigm 
shift' from Freud to Fairbairn: 'a drive-instinctual versus 
a relational point of view' (p.12). Third, he tries to show 
the developing history of psychoanalysis in its dialectical 
relation with the developing history of the world.

   He writes (p.5):

"Psychoanalysis is a science in the sense that it is an 
attempt to understand human subjectivity in material 
terms - it locates its understanding of human
subjectivity in the world of lived experience rather 
than in the spirit world of Western religious traditions."

   This is a crude, unexamined, false dichotomy.  It does 
not distinguish between the phenomenology of spirit as 
lived experience and the 'metapsychology' of hypothetical 
'spiritual' forces or powers 'behind the scenes' postulated 
as explanations or causes of lived experience. [2]

   Dr Schwartz tries to show the scientific nature of 
psychoanalysis as exemplified in Freud's project of 
unification.  But, although Cassandra's Daughter was 
published only a few months before the centenary of the
publication of Freud's The Interpretation of Dreams, it 
makes only perfunctory mention of that book, which Freud 
regarded as his greatest work. Nor does it contain any 
discussion at all of On Dreams, The Psychopathology of 
Everyday Life, Three Essays on the Theory of Sexuality, 
Jokes and Their Relation to the Unconscious, or the 
'Dora' case.  These six masterworks, all published 
between 1900 and 1905, should surely be at the heart 
of any history of psychoanalysis.  This holds a fortiori 
for Dr Schwartz's aim to show Freud's project of 
scientific unification; for these works together are 
that project's most definitive embodiment.

   They are also crucial to Dr Schwartz's aim to show 
Freud's unified conception as a paradigm from which 
Fairbairn allegedly 'shift[ed]'.  For these works are 
themselves paradigms, in one of Kuhn's many senses [3], 
of Freud's conception.  And it is in The Interpretation 
of Dreams and The Psychopathology of Everyday Life, and 
nowhere else [4] in his complete psychological works, 
that Freud himself uses the word Paradigma.

   In the first paragraph of The Interpretation of 
Dreams, he announces that he is taking 'the dream' 
itself as a Paradigma for 'the hysterical phobia and
the obsessional- and the delusional-idea'. [5] He gives 
several examples as Paradigmata of the relation between 
dreams and psychoses towards the end of his survey of 
the literature on dreams in the last section of 
Chapter 1. [6] Then, in The Psychopathology of Everyday 
Life, he refers [7] to three fundamental examples as 
Paradigmata: the 'Signorelli' [8] and 'aliquis' [9] 
memory-slips in the first two chapters of the 
Psychopathology and the 'table d'hôte' dream [10] in On 
Dreams.  There are profound theoretical, thematic, and 
indeed personal, links between these three Paradigmata. [11]  
The above are the only instances of the term Paradigma in 
Freud's published psychological works. [12]  He again 
refers to the 'table d'hôte' dream as a Paradigma in his 
letter to Binswanger of 4 July 1912. [13]

   These works thus propose that dreams, hysterical and 
obsessional 'symptoms', delusions, parapraxes (slips or 
'mischievements' [14]) and jokes all follow the same paradigm.  
Later, Freud extended his unified theory to such phenomena as 

   Dr Schwartz does discuss Freud's nineteenth-century 
unified theory of the neuroses, including the seduction theory.  
But he tries (p.90) 'to synthesize the conflicting views about 
Freud's motivations in the period of his first theories, 
1896-1900.'  He claims: 'If one approaches this record without
malice or hero worship, there does seem room to accommodate 
virtually every reading.'  Dr Schwartz here muddles matters.  
The primary issue is not Freud's 'motivations'.  The issue is 
what Freud did and said, what was his evidence, whether he 
reported it accurately and truthfully, how he interpreted it, 
how he justified his interpretation, and so on.  And, in his
attempt to 'accommodate' these often wildly divergent 
'reading[s]', Dr Schwartz smooths, flattens, censors or 
otherwise distorts some of them almost beyond recognition.

   For example, he writes (p.88) that Smith (1991)

"argues that Freud was indeed seeing fantasies 
of sexual abuse but that they were not fantasies 
to cover past actions.  Instead they were fantasies 
of abuse stimulated by Freud's technique, the use 
of the pressure of his hand on a patient's forehead 
to aid the patient's memory."

   Dr Schwartz writes (p.91): 'We cannot rule this conjecture 
out.'  As a matter of fact, we could rule out at least the 
least important part of this conjecture if we knew that Freud 
had abandoned his 'pressure procedure' ('Druckprozedur') by 
the time he was working with the patients he discussed in his 
seduction theory papers of 1896.  There is no firm evidence 
that he used the method after May 1895, when he published his 
account of it in Studies on Hysteria, calling it an 
'auxiliary procedure' ('Hilfsprozedur') and even a 'trick' 
('Kniff') [15]; and evidence might yet emerge that he had
given it up by 1896.  But, more important, Dr Schwartz fails 
to tell us what Smith's conjecture really is.  Smith wrote: 
'Freud's patients unconsciously felt that Freud seduced them, 
assaulted them, and engaged in perverse forms of sexual 
behavior.'  And: 'Had Freud applied his own hypotheses more
systematically to the clinical data at his disposal he would 
have reached the unsettling conclusion that the perpetrator 
of the "great crime" - the seducer, the rapist - was he 
himself.' [16]

   Not even the watered-down version of Smith's 'reading' 
that Dr Schwartz does give can be 'accommodate[d]' at the 
same time as the traditional psychoanalytic view that 
Freud was 'indeed seeing [. . .] fantasies to cover past 
actions [and desires]'.  Nor is Smith's 'reading' 
compatible with Masson's [17] view that the seduction 
theory was correct.  The traditional psychoanalytic 
'reading' is not compatible with either Masson's or Cioffi's
[18] 'readings', and these are incompatible with each other.  
Masson's 'reading' is not compatible with any of the other 
'readings' Dr Schwartz mentions.

   Dr Schwartz falsely states (p.91) that Cioffi 
'argue[s]' that Freud was 'a Scoundrel [. . .] for accusing 
his patients of lying to him about scenes of infantile 
sexual abuse that he himself had suggested'.  In fact, 
Cioffi writes [19]: 'Masson's repeated assertions that 
Freud dismissed his patients' seduction stories as lies 
make one wonder as to his grasp of Freud's argument.  
Freud did not accuse his patients of lying [. . .]'

   The seduction theory episode does not lend itself to 
'accommodat[ing] virtually every reading'.  It was an 
all-or-nothing theory.  Freud proposed a 'specific 
aetiology' for 'hysteria', by analogy with Koch's then 
recent discovery of the tuberculosis bacillus. [20]  
'Specific aetiology' means an aetiological factor 
present in one hundred per cent of cases.  It is a
factor such that in its absence the 'disease' cannot 
occur.  On the assumption (which Dr Schwartz does not 
appear to challenge) that 'hysteria' is a well-defined 
'disease', the seduction theory was, therefore, either 
right or wrong.  If a single counterexample could be 
found, if a single 'hysteric' could (somehow) be 
proved not to have been sexually abused before the age 
of eight to ten, this would mean, not that the 
seduction theory was just a little bit wrong, but that 
it was wholly wrong. [21]

   Dr Schwartz muddles this issue too.  The following 
sentence is characteristic of his slapdash style (p.75):

"One hundred years ago, Freud had ample evidence 
to suggest that widespread, pervasive cruelty to 
children - and, in the case of the neuroses, sexual
abuse - could well be the universal aetiological 
agent behind the disease."

   Nothing in the preceding sentence, paragraph, chapter, 
or even chapters indicates what Dr Schwartz means by 
'the disease'.  Whatever he means, it appears to include 
'the neuroses'.  Dr Schwartz does not examine his tacit
assumption that 'the neuroses' are 'disease[s]'.  He does 
not record Szasz's contradicting view, now four decades 
old. [22]  Moreover, he claims that 'Freud had ample 
evidence that [. . .] in the case of the neuroses, sexual
abuse [. . .] could well be the universal aetiological 
agent'.  But Freud never claimed any such thing.  He 
divided 'the neuroses' into 'actual neuroses' (a better 
translation would be 'current neuroses') and
'psychoneuroses'.  And he claimed, as Dr Schwartz has 
himself mentioned (p.65), that 'neurasthenia' and 'anxiety 
neurosis' (the 'actual neuroses') were due, not to 
childhood sexual abuse, but to what Freud regarded as
'disturbances' of the adult person's current sexual life, 
namely, masturbation and coitus interruptus or sexual 
abstinence, respectively.  It was only for 'hysteria', 
'obsessional neurosis' and 'paranoia' (the 'psychoneuroses') 
that Freud proposed childhood sexual abuse as 'specific
aetiology'. [23]

   But Dr Schwartz's muddle does not stop there.  
He compounds it, continuing (p.75):

"Yet he was uneasy about his theory.  In the 
spring and summer of 1897 he complained to Fliess 
that hysteria was not coming out as he wished.  
And this it could not do because sexual abuse is 
not the only form of violence of
aetiological significance for hysteria."

   This is a non sequitur.  Dr Schwartz does not say how 
he knows that 'sexual abuse is not the only form of 
violence of aetiological significance for hysteria'.  
But even if, for the sake of argument, we grant this 
assertion, which also presupposes the existence of 
'hysteria' as a medical-type disease-entity with an 
'aetiology', this would not have prevented 'hysteria
[. . .] coming out as [Freud] wished'.  Dr Schwartz's 
unsubstantiated assertion in no way contradicts the 
seduction theory, in any of its versions, either 
published or privately communicated to Fliess.  Freud 
made plain in his three seduction theory papers [24] 
of 1896 that he regarded many factors as 'of 
aetiological significance for hysteria'.  The whole 
point of his theory was that all but one of the factors 
were either 'preconditions' ('conditions') -- such as 
heredity -- or 'concurrent or auxiliary' causes
('causes concurrents ou accessoires'); only childhood 
sexual abuse was the 'specific cause' ('cause 
spécifique'). [25]

   Thus, just as Dr Schwartz tries to smooth away 
contradictions, he invents one where none exists.  
He also repeats (p.87), but does not correct, a 
disjunction Strachey attributes to Freud where none 
exists.  Freud wrote of the 'seduction scenes' as, 
in a literal translation, 'phantasies which my
patients had made up, which I had perhaps myself 
forced on them' ('Phantasien, die meine Patienten 
erdichtet, die ich ihnen vielleicht selbst
aufgedrängt hatte'). [26]  Strachey translates 
this as: 'phantasies which my patients had made 
up or which I myself had perhaps forced on them'.
Dr Schwartz repeats Strachey's replacement of 
Freud's comma by 'or'. This 'or' distorts, by 
diminishing, the degree of possible responsibility
that Freud here almost confesses.

   Freud, near the end of The Interpretation of 
Dreams, writes: 'We thus find, held together by 
what is new in our dream theory as by a higher unity, 
the most different and most contradictory findings 
of the authorities fitting into our structure.' [27]  
Freud's project is Talmudic, dialectical, Hegelian.  
But Dr Schwartz's bland attempt 'to accommodate 
virtually every reading' distorts the data and does 
not work even then.

   Dr Schwartz writes (p.272): 'I have been continuously 
shocked to find how much I was leaving out.'  This has 
not led him to put it in.  He offers the excuse that 
he is 'pruning an unruly tree of its distracting spurs 
and branches'.  But leaving out the works of 1900-1905 
is more like lopping down the trunk itself.

   He does mention several of these works.  But, apart 
from his inadequate account of The Interpretation of 
Dreams, he conveys nothing of their content. Instead, 
in every case, he makes some spurious point clothed in 
a false appearance of scholarship.  The evidence for 
this is as follows.

   He mentions the Psychopathology and Three Essays in 
an endnote on p.289.  He informs us that Brill's 
translations of them and of The Interpretation of
Dreams 'have now been discarded in favour of Joan 
Riviere's Collected Works and Strachey's Standard Edition'.  
In fact, Joan Riviere contributed to the Collected 
Papers. [28]  She did not translate any of the three 
books Dr Schwartz claims or implies she did.  There is 
no Collected Works in English other than Strachey's 
Standard Edition.

   Dr Schwartz's Bibliography indicates that the 
122-page Standard Edition translation of the 'Dora' 
case [29] is precisely two pages long!  Apart from
this, he mentions Dora in the following passage (p.21):

"Freud's connections with the Social Democratic 
political community later brought him patients 
and students.  Among them were Ida Bauer, famous 
as the case of 'Dora', the sister of Otto Bauer 
who was a leading Social Democratic politician; 
the socialist social worker Bertha Pappenheim, 
famous as 'Anna O.'; Emma Eckstein, whose sister 
Therese Schlesinger was a Social Democratic
member of parliament [. . .]"

   In fact, Freud says Dora's father first brought 
her to him 'in the early summer of her sixteenth 
year' ('im Frühsommer ihres 16. Jahres'). [30]  Her
father had himself consulted, and received medical 
treatment from, Freud four years earlier. [31]  
He had been urged to do so by his friend, 'Herr K.'
[32] (Hanns Zellenka). [33]  It is not clear 
whether Zellenka already knew Freud. Bauer was 
a wealthy textile manufacturer. [34]  Zellenka was 
a salesman and shopkeeper who became general manager 
of a large department store in Vienna. [35]  They 
were not, but their sons both became, Social Democrats. 
[36] When Ida first met Freud, Otto Bauer was sixteen 
and Zellenka's son was seven. [37]  When Ida's father 
first consulted Freud, the boys were about twelve and 
three respectively. [38]  True, Otto Bauer was 
precocious [39]; but does Dr Schwartz imagine that 
this twelve-year-old budding Social Democrat introduced 
his father to Freud?

   Bertha Pappenheim was Breuer's patient. [40]  She 
was a friend of Freud's fiancée, Martha Bernays. [41]  
Dr Schwartz gives no evidence that she was also one 
of Freud's 'patients and students'.  She became a 
highly original and individual Jewish feminist social 
worker. [42]  But Dr Schwartz gives no evidence that 
she or her family belonged to the 'Social Democratic 
political community'.

   Emma Eckstein was a patient of Freud's by 1895. [43]  
But women did not then have the vote, let alone the 
right to be elected to parliament, in Austria.
Therese Schlesinger became a member of parliament 
in 1918. [44]  She and her brother, Gustav Eckstein, 
were leading Social Democrats; but Dr Schwartz
gives no evidence that Freud's 'connections with 
the Social Democratic political community' brought 
Emma Eckstein to him.

   These examples give a glimpse of the book's 
unsatisfactory attempt to link the history of 
psychoanalysis with social and political history.

   On the cover of the book, the publishers praise its 
'utmost clarity and precision'. Its 'precision' may be 
seen in the above quotations and in its inventive 
spelling: 'Karl Krause', 'Marianne Krull', 'Pribor', 
'Michael Sebek', 'Hans Israels'.  Its 'clarity' starts 
with the title, which Dr Schwartz explains by 
comparing psychoanalysis to Cassandra:

"And so, too, did science give psychoanalysis 
the power of prophecy.  And, as it is told, 
psychoanalysis has spurned the discipline that 
gave it birth and has not been believed.

But unlike the newly prosperous bourgeoisie 
of the nineteenth century who sought to invent 
roots for itself by appropriating the myths of 
antiquity, we are now too mature to rely on the 
Greeks for our narratives.  The story of
psychoanalysis is not the story of Cassandra, 
but the story of Cassandra's daughter, a strange, 
not entirely welcome newcomer on the world stage.  
We do not know the story of Cassandra's daughter.  
We have to write it ourselves."

   What does he mean by the 'power of prophecy' of 
psychoanalysis?  What does he mean by 'as it is 
told'?  'As it is told' by whom?  Does not he tell 
just this story in this book?  How does it differ 
from Cassandra's story?  Is he not himself relying 
on the Greeks for his narrative?  How could the
daughter's story -- especially in view of the 
interpersonal paradigm Dr Schwartz extols -- not 
rely on her mother's?  What a tangle of confusion
before reaching the first page!

   Dr Schwartz may consider 'we' are more 'mature' 
than the 'bourgeoisie of the nineteenth century'.  
But his book is bourgeois, in Flaubert's sense --
complacent, philistine, 'a state of mind, not a 
state of pocket' (Nabokov [45]) --, from cover to 

   He announces (p.2): 'Psychoanalysis shares with 
psychiatry a common goal of finding effective 
treatment for mental pain.'  His book presents
psychoanalysis and psychiatry as companionate, 
compassionate sister-professions.  One could not 
discover from it that psychiatry's primary mode 
of 'treatment' has been incarceration of those 
whom others find a 'pain'!

   Dr Schwartz fails to discriminate between the 
compulsory and the contractual in psychiatry and 
psychoanalysis.  True, he writes (pp.57-58): 
'A report on madhouses in 1811 noted that the 
famous astronomer William Wriston had been lucky 
to avoid being incarcerated in an asylum.'  True, 
he gives a list of 'treatments' which 'often 
appear to be the punitive gestures of a frustrated
medical establishment whose lack of understanding 
of the causes of mental pain created a need that 
was filled by psychoanalysis' (p.57); and this list
includes 'treatments' that are not just cruel but 
compulsory.  But he does not distinguish between 
those who seek help, whether or not for 'mental
pain', and those who have the attribution of 
'mental pain' thrust upon them and used to justify 
their compulsory 'diagnosis' and 'treatment'. [46]

   Again, Dr Schwartz tells us (p.173): 'In the 
1920s and 1930s there was widespread revulsion against 
the brutalities of standard psychiatric treatment.'  
But one can speak in this way of voluntary medical 
practices, such as gynaecology or dentistry.  Indeed, 
Dr Schwartz does just that when he compares (p.57) 
the 'cruel, desperate measures' of psychiatry with the
extraction of Anna Lieben's teeth.  Freud describes 
this in his account of her as 'Frau Cäcilie M.' [47] 
in Studies on Hysteria. [48]  He writes of the
'sentencing' and 'execution' of the 'culprits'. [49]  
But this is a metaphor; indeed, a joke.  Freud is 
not suggesting, nor has anyone adduced evidence or
proof, that her treatment -- by him, or by her 
previous doctors or dentists -- was other than 
voluntary. [50]

   Dr Schwartz never makes plain that 'standard 
psychiatric treatment' is compulsory.  He refers 
(p.159) to the 'eugenic' legislation in Indiana and
California 'which permitted compulsory sterilization 
of patients admitted to state mental hospitals for 
the conditions of familial feeble-mindedness,
schizophrenia or manic depression'.  But he does not 
comment on the compulsory nature of such 'admi[ssion]' 
itself.  Nor does he question the 'condition' of 
'schizophrenia'. [51]

   It is to his credit that he notes Breuer's 
compulsory hospitalisation of Anna O.  He writes 
(p.48) that Breuer 'had her forcibly transferred 
to a villa near a sanatorium'.  But Breuer was no 
psychiatrist.  Freud credited him, in his American 
lectures, as the man who 'called psychoanalysis into 
life'. [52] And psychoanalysis is, or should be, the 
paradigmatic consensual therapy. [53]  But Dr 
Schwartz does not mention this contradiction.  Nor 
does he mention that we know of Breuer's use of force 
only from his original unpublished record of 1882, 
which Ellenberger [54] found in Kreuzlingen and
Hirschmüller [55] published in 1978.  There, Breuer 
writes she was removed 'without deception but 
forcibly' ('ohne Täuschung aber gewaltsam'). [56]
But, in the published case study in Studies on 
Hysteria (1895), he tones this down to 'against 
her will' ('gegen ihren Willen'). [57]

   It is important to separate 'patients', such as 
Breuer's Anna O., whose 'treatment' was, in part, 
'forcibl[e]', and Freud's Dora, whose 'treatment'
was also, to a significant degree, against her will 
[58], from those, such as Freud's Rat Man, who had a 
consensual, contractual relationship [59] with
Freud.  Compulsory 'treatment' is to voluntary as 
rape is to consensual intercourse, as Szasz has pointed 
out. [60]  No wonder Anna O. [61] and Dora [62] remained 
hostile to psychoanalysis, even though their 'treatment' 
seems not to have been wholly compulsory; while the Rat 
Man [63] was grateful.

   Dr Schwartz does not make this point.  Having 
allowed us a glimpse of the reality of Breuer's 
'treatment' of Anna O., he makes nothing of it. [64]  
He speaks of a paradigm shift from drive-tension-
reduction to 'human relationships'.  He speaks of 
'embrac[ing] difference' (p.284).  But one cannot 
embrace a difference one has not noticed.  One cannot 
make sense of human relationships if one has not 
noticed the difference between coercive and consensual 

   Dr Schwartz presents William Alanson White as a 
reforming psychiatrist, who renamed the Government 
Hospital for the Insane 'on the grounds that the word
Insane in the original name stigmatized the sufferers 
of mental illness' (p.162).  Dr Schwartz gives no hint 
of the critique by Szasz [65], Foucault [66], Laing and 
Esterson [67] of the concept of 'mental illness'.  He 
shows no awareness that it, too, may stigmatize those 
to whom it is attributed, and invalidate them as 
responsible agents.  He reports White's and Jelliffe's
appearances as defence witnesses in famous murder 
trials (p.165).  But he does not report Szasz's analysis 
of the insanity defence as a complement, and
compliment, to compulsory psychiatry. [68]

   Dr Schwartz claims psychoanalysts are 'clinicians'. 
[69]  'Clinicians,' he tells us (p.276), 'need to go 
into their consulting rooms with an emphasis on what 
they know, not on what wants further understanding.'  
This fatuous statement is the antithesis of all that 
is best in psychoanalysis and psychotherapy.

   As we have seen, he thinks psychoanalysts 'treat' 
'mental pain' (p.2).  That was not Freud's view.  As 
early as 1895, in Studies on Hysteria, a year before 
he announced [70] the name, 'psychoanalysis', he 
explained that he offered, not 'to remove your 
suffering' ('Ihr Leiden zu beheben'), but 'to
transform your hysterical misery into common 
unhappiness' ('Ihr hysterisches Elend in gemeines 
Unglück zu verwandeln'). [71]

   Dr Schwartz, therefore, does not understand 
Freud's fundamental position. This makes it difficult 
for him to write a history of psychoanalysis.  He does 
write (p.55): 'The results in the successful cases 
enabled every individual to become the novelist or 
poet of their own experience.'  This is a step in the 
right direction; though there is more to being a novelist 
or poet than being a 'successful case'.  But readers will 
not learn from Dr Schwartz that Freud spoke of 
psychoanalysis as 'secular spiritual counselling' 
('weltliche Seelsorge'). [72]  Nor will they learn how 
Freud's patients' accounts reveal his practice of 
psychoanalysis as a Socratic, rabbinic conversation, with 
jokes and humour of the essence. [73]  Freud's own case 
studies and papers on 'technique' reveal little of this.  
Not that Dr Schwartz does justice to them.

   Dr Schwartz's criticism of Bion's 'mathematics' 
(p.293, n.5) is mathematically confused.  Bion [74] 
imagines a man walking: 'his walk is a function of 
his personality'; 'I find, after investigation, that 
the factors of this function are his love for a girl 
and his envy of her friend'; 'or F (his gait) = L + E.  
(F = function, L = love, E = envy)'.  This is not the
most inspired of mathematical metaphors.  But Dr 
Schwartz does not help by writing (p.293, n.5):

"The rules of arithmetic do not apply 
to love, personality and envy because
they are not measurable and the 
relationships between them cannot usefully
be described with the plus sign of arithmetic.  
It is without meaning to transpose Bion's 
'equation' by the rules of algebra to write, 
L = F x E."

   It is, indeed, without meaning.  But, more to the 
point, by the rules of algebra it is wrong!  This is 
not Bion's wrong and meaningless transposition; it is 
Dr Schwartz's.  The correct transposition is not 
L = F x E, but L = F - E.

   And this last 'equation' is not 'without meaning'.  
It has the plain meaning that in order to perceive the 
man's love for the girl from his walk it would be 
necessary to 'subtract' the factor due to his envy of 
her friend.  And if he could overcome that envy, 
causing that factor to vanish, then his walk would 
simply embody his love for the girl.

   Dr Schwartz also confuses arithmetic and algebra.  
Bion's plus sign is not arithmetical, but part of a 
kind of experiential vector algebra, a lived
'parallelogram of forces' [75].  This can distort 
a man's walk, in a way that may be obvious to others, 
if not to him, though he may become reflectively
aware of it and, in time, transcend his envy, perhaps 
through repentance.

   Bion was feeling his way in 1962 -- with, for 
instance, Semple and Kneebone's Algebraic Projective 
Geometry [76] as one of his Baedekers -- towards a 
phenomenological 'dynamics' of the embodied 'psyche' 
[77].  Bion would not have known that order and 
topological structures, rather than algebraic ones, 
are, as Isnard and Zeeman [78] have explained, the
appropriate, because qualitatively invariant, source 
of mathematical metaphors or maps in the 'human 
sciences'.  But it is not necessary to be an 
enthusiast for Bion to feel that Dr Schwartz is 
not doing him justice.

   Dr Schwartz writes (p.63): 'Most of us, including 
our intellectuals, do not know what it actually feels 
like to understand a problem of any complexity.' How 
does he know this?  Do not babies have to understand 
problems of great complexity? [79]

   He 'feels ashamed to live in a time when theory 
is just a game'; he denounces catastrophe theory as 
a 'fad'.  But René Thom's notion of science as
'reducing the arbitrariness of the metaphor' [80] is 
pertinent to Dr Schwartz's own view of science.  And 
Christopher Zeeman's metaphoric geometry [81] of 
cusps and butterflies is less arbitrary, and reflects 
more accurately, the experience of hysteresis, 
catastrophic change and transcendence than such 
metaphors as 'vicious circle', or 'another spiral of
the dialectic', or 'equidistant from id and superego', 
though these are good enough for many purposes.

   Medard Boss claimed psychoanalysis, 'purified' as 
Daseinsanalysis [82], needs no metaphors.  In 1953, 
he asked: 'Or are there perhaps in reality no dream
symbols at all?' ('Oder gibt es am Ende in Wirklichkeit 
gar keine Traumsymbole?') [83]  Right or wrong, this is 
a high point of twentieth-century writing on 
psychotherapy.  But Dr Schwartz is silent on Boss and 
Heidegger, and on Buber, Binswanger, Sartre, Szasz, 
Foucault, Laing, Esterson, Levinas.  Whatever their 
disagreements, their work constitutes a true 'paradigm 
shift': a series of leaps that transcends, and is 
irreducible to, the shuffle from Freud to Fairbairn.

   A scientific approach would also take account of 
contradicting views. Should not Dr Schwartz have 
recorded Eissler's [84] assertions that, in
psychoanalysis, only Freud created paradigms for 
a scientific revolution; and that, since Freud, 
psychoanalysis has 'entered the phase of "normal
science"'?  Should he not have quoted, for example, 
the physicist, Bohm [85], and the philosopher, 
Feyerabend [86], both of whom questioned Kuhn's
distinction between 'revolutionary' and 'normal' 
science?  Is not the very notion of 'paradigm' open 
to question?

   Dr Schwartz rebuts criticism of psychoanalysis 
with some curious arguments. For example (p.4): 
'When psychoanalysis is accused of being unscientific,
the charge is really that it is subjective [. . .]'  
And (p.13): 'Our resistance to psychoanalysis - 
whether we are men or women - is in part due to our
sense that what is being described is women's work 
[. . .]'  This sort of ad hominem attack helped win 
psychoanalysis its well-deserved reputation for
being, at least at times, unscientific. [87]

   He is indignant that 'literary critics', among whom 
he includes novelists, should presume to criticize 
psychoanalysis (p.4).  But he does not tell his readers 
what great writers said.

   Joyce told Djuna Barnes that psychoanalysis was 
'neither more nor less than blackmail'. [88]  (It is 
interesting that the Christian theologian, Bonhoeffer, 
in his Letters and Papers from Prison, wrote: 'the
psychotherapists practise religious blackmail'. [89])

   Lawrence wrote in Psychoanalysis and the Unconscious: 
'Psychoanalysis is out, under a therapeutic disguise, to 
do away entirely with the moral faculty in man.' [90]

   Eliot wrote of Freud's The Future of an Illusion: 
'It is shrewd and yet stupid; the stupidity lies not so 
much in historical ignorance or lack of sympathy with 
the religious attitude, as in verbal vagueness and 
inability to reason.' [91]

   Nabokov wrote: 'The symbolism racket in schools 
attracts computerized minds but destroys plain intelligence 
as well as poetical sense.' [92]

   These are profound observations.  Psychoanalysts, and 
Dr Schwartz, would do well to ponder them.


[1] This review was commissioned, and at first accepted, 
by The Psychotherapy Review.  The editorial team of that 
journal, whose Editorial Board includes the author of 
Cassandra's Daughter and his partner, Professor Susie Orbach,
then had second thoughts and rejected the review it had 
commissioned and accepted.  The review was then shorter and 
had no notes or bibliography.  I supply them now to throw 
light on whether it is, as the editors informed me,
'more an expression of your opinion on the topic, rather 
than a fair review of the book in question.  As a review 
it seems unduly critical in both tone and length, and it 
does not reflect our [sic] view as to the merit of the

The review is, perhaps, unusual in that every sentence in 
it addresses a specific point in the book reviewed.  
The notes hint at the evidence, much of it from my 
research over more than two decades, on which the factual
assertions and judgements in the review are based.

Note 77 will, I hope, clarify the 
existential-phenomenological background of
the review.  It includes material from my unpublished 
lecture, 'Demythologizing Daseinsanalysis' (Stadlen 1999).

It would not have occurred to me to write about this book.  
It was only with the encouragement of one of the 
commissioning book review editors (who later rejected 
my review) that I did so.  There may be some value in 
discussing the book as an example of the sort of writing 
on psychoanalysis and its history that is praised today.

I am grateful to Dr Sonu Shamdasani, Mr Richard Skues, 
Mrs Naomi Stadlen, Mr Peter J. Swales, 
Professor Thomas S. Szasz and Professor Sir Christopher
Zeeman FRS for their constructive criticisms and 
encouragement, and to the Nuffield Foundation for 
supporting my research.

[2] For a discussion of the difference between phenomenology 
and 'metapsychology', see Chapter 1 of Laing 1961: the first 
edition of The Self and Others, and the only edition with 
that title.  The second edition (1969) has the title, Self 
and Others; and the revised Chapter 1, while elegant and
succinct, is less instructive on the distinction in question.
[3] Kuhn 1970; Masterman 1970: 61-65.
[4] The staff of the Freud Museum at Berggasse 19, Vienna, 
kindly verified this from their copy of the Konkordanz 
(compiled by Samuel A. Guttman et al.) to Freud GW.
[5] Freud GW2/3: VII; SE4: xxiii.  In quotations requiring 
translation, I give my own; but I also indicate the 
corresponding passages in the published English translation, 
in this case the Freud Standard Edition.
[6] Freud GW2/3: 92; SE4: 88.
[7] Freud GW4: 20; SE6: 14; GW4: 133, n.1; SE6: 120, n.1.
[8] Freud GW4: 5-12; SE6: 1-7.
[9] Freud GW4: 13-20; SE6: 8-14.
[10]  Freud GW2/3: 649-655,663-664,668-670,685-686; SE5:
[11]  I reported some of my (still unpublished) findings 
on these links at Skues, Stadlen and Swales 2000.
[12]  See note 3.
[13]  Fichtner 1992: 104.
[14]  Walter Kaufmann (1980: 24) translates Freud's 
'Fehlleistung' as 'mischievement'.  This brings out the 
'mischievous', 'trickster' nature of such 'slips' or 
[15]  Freud GW1: 280; SE3: 278.

[16]  Smith 1991: 21.  Aaron Esterson (1993) independently 
suggested a similar hypothesis in conversation with me.  He 
was thinking in terms of the patients' response, not only 
to Freud's 'pressure procedure', but to the pressure of Freud's 
procedure in general.

Freud alludes to this pressure in such passages as the following, 
in 'The aetiology of hysteria' (GW1: 440; SE3: 204): 'The 
patients know nothing of these scenes before the application of 
the analysis, they tend to become indignant if one indicates 
something of the sort is emerging; they can be induced only by 
the strongest compulsion of the treatment to get involved in
their reproduction, [. . .] they try to deny belief in them, by 
emphasizing that here a memory-feeling has not appeared as with 
other forgotten things'.

I have replaced the smooth Strachey translation with an awkward 
literal one to bring out that 'analysis' -- the 
'psychoanalysis' that Freud was naming for the first time in 
this and his other two 'seduction theory' papers -- was in 1896 
an avant-garde 'treatment' that required 'application' and 'the
strongest compulsion', rather than a fashionable pastime as 
suggested by Strachey's translation, 'Before they come for 
analysis the patients know nothing of these scenes'.

Freud steps up the pressure of his procedure when he goes on 
to insist (GW1: 441; SE3: 204): 'The latter conduct [i.e., 
the patients' emphasis that their 'scenes' of childhood sexual 
abuse do not feel like memories] seems now to be absolutely 
probative [i.e., to constitute proof that the 'scenes' are

[17]  Masson 1984.
[18]  Cioffi 1998.
[19]  Op. cit.: 206-207.
[20]  Freud GW1: 446; SE3: 209.

[21]  In 'The aetiology of hysteria', Freud wrote (GW1: 
435; SE3: 199-200): 'You can admittedly object to me that 
the nineteenth and the twentieth analyses will perhaps show 
a derivation of hysterical symptoms from other sources also 
and thus reduce the validity of the sexual aetiology from
universality to eighty per cent.'

In 'Tell it not in Dan: The untold story of Freud's seduction 
theory' (Stadlen 1994), I asked whether it was only because 
'Freudians' had not noticed Freud's erroneous calculation -- 
that eighteen out of twenty was eighty per cent -- that they 
had not interpreted it as a 'Freudian slip'. Should they not, 
I asked, conclude that Freud, by conceding a larger
'reduc[tion]' of 'validity' than the nineteenth and twentieth 
anomalous cases would in fact entail, 'unconsciously' confessed 
his unease about his claim of 100% incidence for his 'specific 
aetiology' of 'hysteria'?  I emphasized that I was not 
interpreting the error as a 'Freudian slip'.

I raised a similar question about Freud's Biblical error in 
his letter to Fliess of 21 September 1897 (Freud 1986: 283-286; 
Masson 1985: 264-267).  I asked why psychoanalysts did not 
interpret this error, too, as a 'Freudian slip'.  Why did they 
not argue that Freud, in writing that he would not 'tell it in 
Dan' (in the land of the Israelites) rather than, as in the 
Bible, 'Gath' (in the land of the Philistines), thereby 
'unconsciously' confessed that he would try to conceal the 
truth about the seduction theory episode, not only from his 
enemies, but also from his friends, perhaps even including

I argued that what the 'Freudians' would, if they were worth 
their salt, have deduced, by treating these errors of Freud's 
as 'slips', was in fact the case.  But my argument was based 
on evidence, not on the supposed meanings of alleged 'Freudian 
slips'.  It would be absurd and circular to assume the
validity of psychoanalytic inferences about 'slips' when 
evaluating the founding moment of psychoanalysis itself.  And 
the 1896 seduction theory papers are the founding moment.  It 
was in them that Freud publicly announced the name, 
'psychoanalysis'.  Similar considerations apply to the 1897 
letter where he privately retracted the seduction theory.  For 
this letter announces a 'collapse of all values' ('Sturz aller 
Werte') in which 'only the psychological has remained 
unaffected' (Freud 1986: 286; Masson 1985: 266). It is, in 
effect, the founding moment of a rebirth of psychoanalysis.  
The psychoanalytic theory of 'slips' should, again, be avoided 
in evaluating it. However, Estelle Roith (1994: 14), in an 
otherwise scrupulous account, reports that I 'insist' that 
'Freud's two telling "mistakes" [. . .] should be seen as 
slips'; she implies that I claim these 'slips' as evidence 
for what I was asserting.

Of course, the most authentic 'Freudian' method would be 
to invite Freud to say what occurs to him in connection 
with 'eighty per cent', rather than to interpret 
regardless.  But, in many examples in The Psychopathology 
of Everyday Life, Freud does not ask for the other 
person's associations; instead, he supplies his own.  
Even in the paradigmatic 'aliquis' analysis, the 
associations of the 'young man' -- who in any case almost 
certainly did not exist (Skues, Stadlen and Swales 2000) -- 
are contaminated by Freud's own, interpolated, associations.  
Thus what I say 'Freudians' should have done is no more 
than Freud himself often did, as do 'Freudians', when it
suits them, to this day.

Strachey mistranslates Freud as referring to 'the 
nineteenth or the twentieth' (SE3: 199-200); thus he 
misrepresents Freud's arithmetic as even worse than it 
actually is at this point.  Baines's 1924 translation, which
was available for Strachey to consult, correctly renders 
Freud's 'die neunzehnten und die zwanzigsten Analyse' as 
'the nineteenth and twentieth analyses' (Freud CP1: 193).

[22]  Szasz 1961.
[23]  Freud GW1: 377-459; SE3: 141-221.
[24]  Loc. cit.
[25]  Freud GW1: 405-422; SE3: 141-156.
[26]  Freud GW14: 59-60; SE20: 34.
[27]  Freud GW2/3: 597; SE5: 592.
[28]  Freud CP.
[29]  Freud SE7: 1-122.

[30]  Freud GW5: 180; SE7: 22.  Strachey mistranslates this 
as 'when she was sixteen, in the early summer'.  He thus 
misleads English-speaking readers into supposing that Dora 
was above the British age of consent when Herr K. molested 
her by the lake.

Mahony (1986: 23) says we would 'profit from a 
psychoanalysis of Strachey's translations'.  This suggests 
that Strachey acted 'unconsciously'.  But many of his 
mistranslations -- in the 'Dora' case, for instance -- must 
be deliberate.

For example, Freud specifies no less than six times that 
Herr K. has a 'shop' in the Kurort 'B --' (Meran).  And 
he did, indeed, have a shop in Meran (Stadlen 1977-2001).  
Freud uses the words: 'Geschäftsladen', once; 'Geschäft', 
twice; 'Laden', three times.  All of these words mean 
'shop'. Freud mentions the shop five times (GW5: 186-189; 
CP3: 36-40; SE7: 27-31) as the place where Herr K. tried 
to seduce Dora by forcing a kiss on her.  She was then, 
according to Freud, a 'fourteen-year-old child' (GW5: 
187; CP: 37; SE7: 28).  Both the CP and the SE versions 
of the authorised English translation by Alix and James 
Strachey render the first (GW5: 186; CP3: 36; SE7: 27) of 
these five references to Herr K.'s shop as 'place of 
business'. The next four references are simply omitted.  
For instance, in the fourth and fifth references (GW5: 187, 
189; CP3: 37,40; SE7: 28,31), 'the kiss in the shop' is 
translated as 'the kiss'.  Finally, when Freud refers 
(GW5: 191; CP3: 42; SE7: 33) to Herr K.'s being 'in his 
shop' while Dora's father visited Frau K. in her home, 
this is translated as 'at his business'.

What is happening here?  The Stracheys thanked Fräulein 
Anna Freud in 1925 (CP3: 7) 'for reading through the 
whole of our manuscript and making many important 
corrections and suggestions'.  In 1953 Miss Freud was 
co-editor of the Standard Edition.  I therefore asked her, 
in 1980, if she knew why all references to Herr K.'s shop 
had been mistranslated or omitted.

Miss Freud agreed (Freud, A. 1980) that the words 
'Geschäftsladen', 'Geschäft' and 'Laden' should all 
have been translated as 'shop'.  She said she did not 
know why they had not been.

It can hardly have been to protect Herr K.'s anonymity.  
Freud referred to Herr K.'s 'shop', in German, in 
Vienna, where Herr K. then lived, in 1905. Why, then, 
should a disguise be called for, in English, in the
English-speaking world, in 1925, and in 1953, and still today?

The sexual molesting of a child is as sordid in a 'place of 
business' as in a shop.  But this systematic mistranslation 
seems calculated to appeal to English-speaking readers' 
sense of the niceties of social class.  Perhaps the
Stracheys had reason to expect that, to such a readership, 
Herr K.'s molesting of Dora would appear, in this socially 
adjusted light, as less sordid than it was.

The more socially 'respectable' Herr K. appeared, the more 
ethically and scientifically respectable Freud would appear.  
After all, Freud had asserted (GW5: 187; CP3: 37; SE7: 28) that 
the action of this 'fourteen-year-old child', Dora, in pulling 
herself free in disgust from Herr K.'s molesting grasp, was 
itself evidence that she was 'completely and utterly hysterical'
('ganz und voll hysterisch').  The Stracheys may have felt a 
need to dignify, by reassigning the social standing of her 
suitor, this diagnosis by Freud that Dora's disgust was a 
pathognomonic symptom of 'hysteria' (Stadlen 1985a,b,c; 1989).

A claim made by Decker (1991: 118) and Mahony (1996: 119) 
calls for comment. They assert that Dora was thirteen, not 
fourteen as Freud states, when Herr K. forced a kiss upon 
her in his shop.  If this were the case, then there would 
be serious legal implications, although neither Decker nor 
Mahony appears aware of this.  Fourteen was the age of 
consent in Austrian law.  If Herr K. had had sexual 
intercourse with Dora when she was thirteen, he could
have been found guilty of dishonouring a minor (Schändung).  
His act would have been treated as rape.  He could have 
been sentenced to many years of 'severe imprisonment'.

Some of the chronology of Freud's case-study is 
contradictory.  But Dora's age when K. forcibly kissed 
her cannot be derived with certainty from the case-study, 
even when augmented by the limited historical data prayed 
in aid by Decker and Mahony.  I hinted in 1985 (Stadlen 
1985b), years before they published their confident 
assertions, that my research indicated Dora may have been 
thirteen at the time.  The historical evidence I had gathered 
by 1985 was already far more extensive than the scanty data 
Decker and Mahony subsequently adduced.  My data (Stadlen 
1977-2001, 2000b) make it very probable that Dora was 
thirteen.  But on what grounds do these authors assert
that she was thirteen?

[31]  Freud GW5: 177; SE7: 19.
[32]  Ibid.
[33]  Stadlen 1977-2001.
[34]  Braunthal 1961; Leichter 1970.
[35]  Stadlen 1977-2001.
[36]  Loc. cit.
[37]  Loc. cit.
[38]  Loc. cit.
[39]  See, for example, his play, Napoleons Ende 
(Bauer 1948 [1891]).  The title page, presumably handwritten 
by Bauer, states that he completed it on 24 December 1891.  
He was then ten.  Julius Deutsch, in his preface to the
privately printed version, claims Bauer wrote it when he 
was nine.
[40]  Hirschmüller 1978: 348; 1989 [1978]: 276.
[41]  Hirschmüller 1978: 170; 1989 [1978]: 126.
[42]  Edinger 1968; Hirschmüller 1978; 1989 [1978].
[43]  Freud 1986: 113; Masson 1985: 120.
[44]  Magaziner 1975: 216-219.
[45]  Nabokov 1980: 126-127.
[46]  Esterson 1970; Szasz 1979.
[47]  Dr Schwartz states (p.51): 'Freud repeatedly referred 
to Cäcilie M. in both his early and later writing as his 
teacher (Lehrmeisterin).'  In fact, Freud twice called Anna 
von Lieben his 'Lehrmeisterin' ('master instructress'), 
without revealing that she was 'Frau Cäcilie M.'; and not 
in his published writings, but in private letters, in 1897 
and 1938 (Swales 1986: 12).  Swales and I, independently, 
established her identity.
[48]  Breuer and Freud 1991[1895]; Freud SE2.
[49]  Freud GW1: 245; Breuer and Freud 1991 [1895]: 197; 
Freud SE2: 176.

[50]  Peter Swales, in a lecture on 11 January 1984 at 
the Payne Whitney Clinic, New York, hypothesized that Anna 
Lieben, before her marriage, was resident for a time in a 
'sanatorium' in England.  My research showed that the 
'sanatorium' Swales had in mind was a Lunatic Asylum.  This 
would have had implications for the question of whether she 
had been compulsorily 'treated'.  I therefore investigated.

Baroness Anna von Todesco (later Lieben) stayed in England 
between 1866 and 1868.  For much of this time she was at 
Egham, Surrey, where her married sister had gone to live.  
Swales claimed that, while she was staying there, she 
'underwent a period of severe nervous illness'.  He did 
not say how he knew this.  Nor did he say what he meant 
by it.  He hypothesized that she was for at least some of 
this time not staying with her sister but confined to bed 
in a nearby 'sanatorium'.  He adduced as evidence for this 
hypothesis that: (1) Freud (according to Swales) says she 
was once in 'a sanatorium overseas' and Anna's only known 
trip overseas was this one to England; (2) there are 'one 
or two remarks about nurses, orderlies, and the like' in some
of the poems, printed after her death (Lieben P), 'which she 
wrote while in' Egham; and (3) there was what Swales calls a 
'sanatorium for mental patients', Great Fosters, near Anna's 
sister's home.

However, I disproved his hypothesis as follows.

Ad (1):  Freud (GW1: 248) says Frau Cäcilie was 'in einer 
ausländischer Heilanstalt', which Strachey (Freud SE2: 179) 
translates as 'a sanatorium abroad', though it might mean 
a nursing home, perhaps at a spa. 'Ausländisch' does not 
imply 'overseas'.  It simply means 'foreign'.

Ad (2):  There are just three poems in Lieben P that contain 
possible references to what Swales calls 'nurses, orderlies, 
and the like'.  But Anna Lieben's granddaughter, the painter 
Marie-Louise von Motesiczky, had granted me access to her 
grandmother's locked diary (Lieben D) and fair copy
manuscript book of poems (Lieben M).  These contain earlier 
versions of many of the poems in Lieben P.  They also indicate, 
in many instances, the place, date, and context of composition.

The first poem, 'Im Fieber' ('In the fever') (Lieben P: 34-5), 
mentions 'Wärterinnen' ('nurses' or 'attendants').  The date 
and place of its writing are not given; but it exists in 
three versions: in D, M and P.  The D version shows she wrote 
it at Franzensbad in 1868, after she had left England.  In
this original, untitled, version, Anna mentions only one 
'Wärterin'.  She changes this to the plural ('Wärt'rinnen') 
in the M version (M: 220-221) and there gives the poem the 
title 'Ein Fiebertraum' ('A fever-dream').

The second poem, 'Krankenzimmer' ('Sickroom') (P: 54), 
mentions a 'Wärt'rin'. The place of writing is not specified.  
It is dated 1867.  Anna was in Egham that year; though she 
was also in London, as shown by her poem 'Schnee in London' 
('Snow in London'), dated 1867 (P: 91; M: 38-39).  But D 
shows she wrote 'Krankenzimmer' in 1877 (D: 23 May 1877), 
nine years after she had left England.

The third poem, 'Frühling 1861 in Egham' ('Spring 1861 
in Egham') (P: 76), mentions a 'Schwester' ('sister') named 
Valeria.  Anna had no sister of that name.  The date and 
place occur only in the title.  This poem also exists in
M, but both its title and its place in the sequence of 
manuscript poems show that '1861' should be '1868' (M: 144).  
Moreover, Valeria (or Valerie) was no sanatorium 'orderly'; 
she was, as my research (Stadlen 1977-2001) found, a
'companion' who accompanied Anna to a number of spas in 
Europe.  Anna wrote poems to her (e.g., M: 11, 202; P: 111) 
and named her second daughter after her.

Quite apart from this, Freud mentions in Studies on 
Hysteria that Frau Cäcilie had a 'Wärterin' ('nurse' or 
'attendant') while he was treating her in Vienna (GW1: 129; 
SE2: 76), but nobody deduces she was in a sanatorium
then. Thus there is not even a prima facie case that Anna 
was in any 'sanatorium' at Egham.

Ad (3):  I was able to prove she was definitely not a 
resident in the only 'sanatorium' then at or near Egham.  
My research (Stadlen Loc. cit.) found: Great Fosters was 
a Lunatic Asylum; residents were officially classed as
'lunatics'; Anna was not listed among the 'lunatics' of 
the asylum; and the asylum was in any case closed down, 
and all residents discharged, a few months before her 
stay in England.

Peter Swales, with his characteristic honesty and 
generosity, withdrew his hypothesis and thanked me 
for 'sparing [him] such a misconception' (Swales
1986: 61-62, n.8).  Had his hypothesis been correct, 
it would have been remarkable if this 'lunatic' had 
graduated to a voluntary 'treatment' by Freud.

The notion that Anna was in a 'sanatorium' in England 
has been repeated in at least one book (Harrison 1984: 66) 
after Swales's 1984 lecture.  If Swales had published his 
hypothesis, which he never claimed to be more than that,
other authors would, on past showing, have repeated it as 
a 'fact'; and some would no doubt have taken this 'fact' 
as 'evidence' for Goshen's (1952) assertion that Freud's 
paradigmatic 'patients' were 'schizophrenic', and for
Robert Fliess's (1970 [1961]: 10) assertion that they 
were 'psychotic'.

The BBC2 television version of Harrison's novel 
presented Anna von Lieben as a vulgar, pretentious, 
histrionic seductress; her granddaughter telephoned
me (Motesiczky 1984) in some distress about this.

[51]  Laing and Esterson 1964; Esterson 1970; Szasz 1979.
[52]  Freud GW8: 3; SE11: 9.
[53]  Szasz 1965.
[54]  Ellenberger 1972.
[55]  Hirschmüller 1978: 348-362; 1989 [1978]: 276-290.
[56]  Hirschmüller 1978: 358; 1989 [1978]: 286.  The 
English translation tones down 'forcibly' to 'not without force'.
[57]  Breuer 1987 [1895]: 227; Breuer and Freud 1991 [1895]: 48; 
Freud SE2: 28.
[58]  Freud GW5: 180-181; SE7: 22-23; GW5: 232, n.2; SE7: 70, 
n.2.  Freud writes (GW5: 181): 'er [. . .] wurde trotz ihres 
Sträubens bestimmt, daß sie in meiner Behandlung treten solle.'  
This means: 'he [Dora's father] [. . .] became determined 
[resolute], despite her struggling [hackles rising], that
she should enter my treatment.'  Strachey mistranslates this 
(SE7: 23) as: 'it was determined, despite her reluctance, that 
she should come to me for treatment.'
[59]  Freud 1987: 509; SE10: 255.
[60]  Szasz 1979: 49.

[61]  Dora Edinger writes (1968: 15): 'Bertha Pappenheim never 
spoke about this period of her life [the time of her 
'treatment' by Breuer] and violently opposed any suggestion 
of psychoanalytic therapy for someone she was in charge of, 
to the surprise of her co-workers.'

Lucy Freeman writes (1972 [1971]: 150): '[. . .] a member of 
the board [. . .] suggested, "Perhaps we should take Manya 
to see a psychoanalyst."  [. . .] Bertha Pappenheim [. . .] 
abruptly stood up and said, her voice emphatic, "Never!  Not 
as long as I am alive."  A hush fell over the room.  The other
women did not understand her dramatic reaction but realized 
she spoke out of deep feeling.  Then she said, "Let's go on 
to other matters," and sat down.'

Anna Freud writes (1973 [1971]: xi) that Anna O. was 
'estranged and inimical toward h[er] former therapy'.  Miss 
Freud may be relying on Edinger's or Freeman's account, or both.

[62]  Roazen (1986 [1985]: 211) quotes from a letter 
from Felix Deutsch to his wife, Helene, in March 1923.  In it, 
Deutsch says he has been called in to see Dora, who was 
'in Freud's treatment twenty-five years ago [sic], and has 
nothing good to say about analysis.'  After Dora's death, Deutsch
published a report (Deutsch 1957) of his encounter with Dora.  
In it, he withheld from his readers what he had told his wife 
about Dora's attitude to psychoanalysis.  Instead, he claimed 
Dora had 'display[ed] great pride in having been written up as 
a famous case in psychiatric literature'. Deutsch's paper is 
replete with gross factual errors.  Deutsch claims to show
that Freud's 'predictions' for Dora were fulfilled.  In fact, 
Freud made no predictions for Dora!  Deutsch also quotes an 
unnamed informant as saying Dora had been 'one of the most 
repulsive hysterics he had ever met'.  Not only psychoanalysts, 
but also 'feminists' purporting to understand, defend, or 
vindicate Dora, have referred, and deferred, to Deutsch's paper, 
and to this 'diagnosis' of Dora, as if to valuable scientific 
testimony.  The 'diagnosis' was not robust enough, however, for 
Goshen and Robert Fliess (see note 50).  Goshen (1952) held that 
Dora was a 'schizophrenic'; while Fliess (1970 [1961]: 10) 
observed: 'To the psychosis of Dora, Felix Deutsch has
recently devoted a convincing publication'.

In 1979, I identified Deutsch's informant and interviewed the 
informant's widow.  I used a method derived from Laing and 
Esterson (1964) and Esterson (1970) to evaluate the differing 
perspectives of different people in Dora's family and milieu.  
I established that Deutsch's informant and his wife were
themselves part of a complex family network that served to 
denigrate Dora, both before and after Freud diagnosed her 
alleged 'hysteria'.  My research findings call for a radical 
reappraisal of the 'Dora' case and of the literature on it, 
including Deutsch's paper.  I have reported on this in many
lectures and seminars since 1985.  (See also Stadlen 1985a,b,c; 
1989; 2000b.)

Thus Deutsch fails to inform his readers of Dora's negative 
view of psychoanalysis that he privately reported to his 
wife; and he himself becomes part of the familial, social, 
and professional network that denigrates Dora. In effect, he 
invalidates in principle anything negative she might have said
about psychoanalysis, by dismissing her as a negative and 
neurotic person, while taking care not to mention that, as he 
well knows, she has indeed said negative things about 

In 1979, I also interviewed Frau Elsa Foges, then ninety-seven 
years old. (I last spoke to her when she was one hundred and 
one.)  She was a character in Freud's published 'Dora' case 
study: a cousin of Dora's, five months older, the younger 
daughter of Dora's 'beloved aunt' (GW5: 180; SE7: 22).  Freud
writes (GW5: 221; SE7: 61): 'Dora had always got on 
particularly well with her and had shared all sorts of 
secrets with her'.  Frau Foges told me that she had asked Ida 
(Dora) at the time of Ida's analysis (in 1900): 'Who is this 
Freud?'  Ida had replied: 'He asks me lots of questions, and 
I want to make an end of it.'

[63] Freud, writing to Jung on 17 October 1909, calls the 
Rat Man 'the intelligent and grateful man' (McGuire and 
Sauerländer 1974: 280; McGuire 1994 [1974]: 255).

Over a number of years in the 1980s, I interviewed a niece 
of the Rat Man, the daughter of one of his sisters.  She 
was 'Ella' in Freud's published 'Rat Man' case study.  Freud 
does not state her age.  She was in her second year when the 
Rat Man started his analysis with Freud; and I was present at 
her eightieth-birthday celebration.  Freud writes (GW7: 444; 
SE10: 226-227): 'He had a delightful little niece, whom he 
loved very much.  One day he got the idea: If you allow 
yourself a coitus, a misfortune will happen to Ella (to die).'  
She did not know Freud had published a case study on her uncle; 
nor did she know of her uncle's erstwhile preoccupation with 
rats.  But she said the family tradition, stemming from both 
her uncle and her parents, was that the analysis had helped 
him, enabling him to get married and pass his law examinations.

In 1991, I interviewed two of the Rat Man's nephews, sons of 
another of his sisters; they, too, said Professor Freud had 
helped their uncle.

[64]  Dr Schwartz, again to his credit, does point out 
(p.49), by referring to a passage in Breuer's original 
record (Hirschmüller 1978: 359; 1989 [1978]: 287), that 
'[w]hen Breuer had her forcibly relocated to Inzersdorf,
Pappenheim refused to engage in the evening story-telling 
sessions with sanatorium staff'.
[65]  Szasz 1961 (and some seven hundred other Szasz titles).
[66]  Foucault 1967 [1961].
[67]  Laing and Esterson 1964; Esterson 1970.
[68]  Szasz 1963.

[69]  Etymologically, 'clinician' derives from 'kline' 
('couch, for meals or bed'), 'klinikos': 'physician, who 
visits patients in their beds', and 'klinike': 'his art 
or method' (Liddell and Scott 1990 [1843]).  The couch
(kline) is a fitting emblem for a psychoanalyst.  Freud 
even gave the Rat Man a meal, though probably not on the 
couch; and analysts' couches have sometimes served as the 
locus classicus for bedding patients.  But the meaning of 
a word is its use.  Psychoanalysts and psychotherapists call
themselves 'clinicians', and use the word 'clinical', not to 
allude to their couches, but to invoke the prestige of the 
'physician' (klinikos) and of the 'art or method' (klinike) 
of modern natural-scientific medicine.  They mystify what 
they do.  Freud was clear that psychoanalysis was not part 
of medicine.  He wrote (GW14: 262; SE20: 230): '[. . .] 
doctors contribute a preponderating contingent to the quacks 
in analysis.'

How could anyone who had understood Szasz 1961, Laing and 
Esterson 1964, or Esterson 1970 continue to use the word 
'clinician' as Dr Schwartz does?

[70]  Freud GW1: 416; SE3: 151.
[71]  Freud GW1: 312; SE2: 305.
[72]  Freud GW14: 293; SE20: 255.
[73]  Blanton 1971; Choisy 1974; Doolittle 1974; Dorsey 1976; 
Hirst 1967?; Kardiner 1977; Lohser and Newton 1996; 
Roazen 1995; Wortis 1975.
[74]  Bion 1991 [1962], Introduction.
[75]  Freud, at the turn of the century, in 'Screen memories' 
(1899) and On Dreams (1901), played with the analogy or 
metaphor of 'parallelogram of forces'.  Freud GW1: 536; 
SE3: 307; GW2/3: 671; SE5: 657.
[76]  Semple and Kneebone 1956 [1952].

[77]  'Existential' and 'phenomenological' psychotherapists 
often disparage the words, 'dynamics', 'psyche' and 
'psychodynamics'.  This is justified when these words 
denote 'metapsychological' speculations and reifications.  
But they need not do so.  Heidegger, in 1931, soon after 
the publication of Being and Time, devoted a lecture series 
(GA33; 1995) to studying the 'essence and actuality of force' 
through a sustained examination of Aristotle's
discussion of dunamis (force) in the first three chapters of 
Part 9 of his Metaphysics. And Spiegelberg, in The 
Phenomenological Movement (1965: 654-701), chooses
precisely the phenomenon of force to illustrate 'the 
essentials of the phenomenological method'; he criticizes 
the natural-scientific use of Occam's razor to do away with 
the concept of 'force'.  'Existential' therapists who throw 
out the notion of 'force' are behaving like positivist 
natural scientists, though less rationally, as the natural 
scientists throw out force, not as a phenomenon, but as a 
hypothetical explanation of phenomena.

Chapter 1 of Laing 1961 clarifies the phenomenological 
status as experience of what psychoanalysts call 
'unconscious phantasy' (see note 2).  The phenomenon of 
force may be an experience in one or more modalities, such 
as perception, imagination, memory, dream, phantasy, 
transcendental experience. This is quite different from 
hypothetical non-human 'forces' 'on the meta-experiential 
level', as Laing puts it, postulated as 'metapsychological'
explanations of experience.

As I showed in 'Demythologizing Daseinsanalysis' 
(Stadlen 1999), daseinsanalytic or existential authors, 
in at least twenty-four books or papers, have seized on a 
certain sentence of Freud's to try to prove, or at
least suggest, that he was no phenomenologist.

The sentence in question is (Freud GW11: 62): 'Die 
wahrgenommenen Phänomene müssen in unserer Auffassung 
gegen die nur angenommenen Strebungen

Strachey translates (Freud SE15: 67): 'On our view the 
phenomena that are perceived must yield in importance to 
trends which are only hypothetical.'

This translation is misleading.  It should be something 
like: 'The perceived phenomena must in our conception 
recede before the merely assumed strivings.'

'Strebungen' here means human strivings: what Szasz (1999) 
calls 'inexplicit intentions'.  It does not, or at least 
not necessarily, mean 'hypothetical'  'trends' or 'forces' 
'behind the scenes', which even in principle could never
be experienced.  But this is how Binswanger, Boss, 
Heidegger, Holzhey-Kunz, Condrau and Cohn, even in 
German, misrepresent its meaning.

As far as I know, the first writer to quote Freud's 
sentence and attribute an antiphenomenological sense to it 
was Binswanger (1947 [1936]: 156; 1963 [1936]: 165), in his 
1936 lecture in honour of Freud's eightieth birthday. And, 
in 'The case of Ellen West', Binswanger (1944-5, Vol. 54: 
335; 1957 [1944-5]: 142; 1958 [1944-5]: 319) calls this 
sentence the 'Grundsatz' (fundamental principle) of 

Boss (1979 [1967]: 332-3; 1979 [1973]: 391; 1979 {1974}: 
424-5) calls it the 'formulation' of 'the Grundabsicht 
(fundamental intention or purpose) of [Freud's] whole 
metapsychological theory'.  Boss quotes the sentence in at
least thirteen works, or fourteen if his edition of 
Heidegger's Zollikon seminars is included; and he always 
interprets it as evidence of what he alleges to be Freud's 
rejection of phenomenology; although, of course, Boss
recognises a phenomenological aspect of Freud's work.

(Boss (1979 [1967]: 333) points out that Meerwein 
(1965: 37) inverts Freud's sentence by writing that 'in 
psychoanalysis the interest in the assumed strivings must 
recede behind that in the perceived phenomena'.  Boss calls
Meerwein's misstatement a 'fundamental' 'Fehlhandlung' 
(Freudian slip or 'faulty action').  But, on at least one 
occasion,  Boss himself (1979 [1973]: 391) misquotes Freud's 
sentence by replacing Freud's word 'Auffassung' (view,
conception) with Boss's own word 'Absicht' (purpose, 
intention), thereby falsely suggesting that Boss's own 
assertion, that Freud's sentence expresses Freud's 'Absicht', 
must be true because, after all, this is what the sentence
itself says.

Michel Henry (1993 [1985]: 296) also discusses Freud's 
sentence, but from a different perspective.)

The sentence itself follows two other sentences 
(Freud GW11: 62; SE15: 67), which have also been much 
quoted:  'Wir wollen die Erscheinungen nicht bloss
beschreiben und klassifizieren, sondern sie als Anzeichen 
eines Kräftesspiels in der Seele begreifen, als Äusserung 
von zielstrebigen Tendenzen, die zusammen oder gegeneinander 
arbeiten.  Wir bemühen uns um eine dynamische Auffassung der 
seelischen Erscheinungen.'  ('We want not merely to describe
and classify phenomena, but to comprehend them as signs of 
an interplay of forces in the soul as an expression of 
goal-striving [purposeful, resolute] intentions, which work 
together or against each other.  We are trying to get
a dynamic conception of phenomena of the soul.' But this 
can be a phenomenological 'dynamics'!  The person can be, 
or can become, perhaps with the help of others, aware of 
the 'interplay of forces' or 'strivings' in his 'soul' or 
'psyche'.  He does not have to 'infer' or 'assume' these 
'forces': he can directly experience them.  They are he.  
And his 'psyche' does not have to mean the reified 
'psyche' of psychoanalysis that Boss (1975 [1971]: 329-332; 
1983 [1975]: 131-132) deplores.  Heidegger in his 1942-3 
Parmenides lectures (GA54: 147) said that 'psuche' 'cannot 
be translated' but 'means the ground and manner of the 
relation to beings' ('meint den Grund und die Weise des 
Bezugs zum Seienden').  (See also Stadlen 2000a.)

Freud pointed to this state of affairs when he wrote 
(GW15: 86; SE22: 80): 'Where It was, should I become.'  
('Wo Es war, soll Ich werden.')

Freud's 'Grundsatz' is not wholly clear in itself.  
But these daseinsanalytic and existential authors praise 
its exemplary clarity while exploiting its ambiguity.  
However, its context does make it clear, though not one 
of the authors mentions the context.  In this, they are 
utterly unphenomenological! The context of the sentence 
is Freud's discussion of 'slips of the tongue' near the 
start of the Introductory Lectures on Psychoanalysis.  
Freud mentions three possible attitudes of a speaker to 
his 'slip' (Freud GW11: 58-59; SE15: 64):

1. 'the disturbing purpose is known to the speaker, but 
more than this, it became noticed by him before the slip';

2. 'the disturbing purpose is equally recognised as his', 
but 'he knows nothing about its being active in him just 
before the slip.  Thus he accepts our interpretation of 
the slip, but remains to some extent astonished about
it'; and

3. 'the interpretation of the disturbing intention is 
energetically rejected' by the speaker; 'he not only 
disputes that it was active in him before he made the 
slip; rather, he wants to assert that it is in any case 
entirely alien to him'.

This third kind of 'Freudian slip', or 'mischievement' 
(see note 14), is the crux.  Freud is here doing little 
more than appealing to something essential about being 
human: namely, that people don't always notice, or acknowledge,
what they are doing, or the implications of what they are 
doing, which may seem clear, if not clear in every detail, 
to other people.  Indeed, the person in Freud's third group 
may say, 'On reflection, I think you're right: I did feel 
[whatever it was] but I didn't want to admit it to you, or 
even to myself.'  This interpersonal event is a phenomenon, 
to those who are open to it, provided they have a discipline 
-- what Laing (1961: 14) calls a 'logic of phenomenological 
inferences' -- for deciding what is evidence: provided,
that is, they are not operating an arbitrary, inquisitional 
system.  It is an inference about the experience of the other: 
for example, about agency that may be disavowed or acknowledged, 
not about 'agencies' that are forever outside anyone's experience.  
A 'phenomenology' that does not acknowledge this is not worthy of 
the name.

Binswanger et al. are confusing the speculative, metapsychological
'unconscious', which they have with justice criticized, with the 
phenomenon of ordinary unawareness in the Freud sentence they cite.

Freud insists, in his Encyclopaedia Britannica article (GW14: 
303; SE20: 266): 'One should not assume that these most 
general conceptions' -- which he elsewhere calls 
'metapsychology', and even, in his letter to Einstein,
'mythology' (GW16: 22; SE22: 211) -- are 'presuppositions 
of psychoanalytic work'.  They are, he says, 'open to revision'.  
Freud himself demythologizes psychoanalysis.

Dunamis and psuche, in their ancient meanings, point to the 
possibility of an existential-phenomenological 'psychodynamics', 
of which today's 'psychodynamics' is, for the most part, an 
alienated, mechanistic, inquisitional travesty.

[78]  Isnard and Zeeman 1977 [1976]: 319-324.
[79]  Gopnik, Meltzoff and Kuhl 1999: 133 and passim.
[80]  Thom 1977 [1974]: 637.  Thom writes here of 'reducing 
the arbitrariness of the description'; but in a lecture from 
about 1978 I heard him use the phrase, 'reducing the 
arbitrariness of the metaphor'.  In the same article he
writes: 'When narrow-minded scientists object to CT [catastrophe 
theory] that it gives no more than analogies, or metaphors, they 
do not realise that they are stating the proper aim of CT, which 
is to classify all possible types of analogous situations' 
(Ibid).  See also Thom 1993 [1991].
[81]  Zeeman 1977: 33-52; Isnard and Zeeman 1977 [1976].
[82]  Boss and Holzhey-Kunz (1982: 111): 'Daseinsanalysis 
wants itself to be nothing other than a purified psychoanalysis.'  
('Die Daseinsanalyse will selber nichts anderes sein als eine 
geläuterte Psychoanalyse.')
[83]  Boss 1953: 97; 1957 [1953]: 90.  The 1957 English 
translation is free, but memorable: 'What if there are no 
dream symbols at all?'
[84]  Eissler 1969: 465-466.
[85]  Bohm 1981 [1980]: 141.
[86]  Feyerabend 1970.
[87]  The 'psychoanalytic' ad hominem argument is ubiquitous 
in psychoanalytic writings, as is criticism of it in the 
critical literature.
[88]  Interview with James Joyce in Barnes 1987.
[89]  Bonhoeffer 1963: 117.
[90]  Lawrence 1971 [1923]: 202.
[91]  Eliot 1988 [1928]: 575.
[92]  Nabokov 1981 [1971]: 305.


Barnes, D.  (1987)  I Could Never be Lonely Without a Husband: 
Interviews by Djuna Barnes.  London: Virago.

Bauer, O.  (1948 [1891])  Napoleons Ende.  Vienna: 
privately printed.

Binswanger, L.  (1947 [1936])  Freuds Auffassung des Menschen 
im Lichte der Anthropologie.  In: Binswanger 1947: 159-189.

Binswanger, L.  (1947)  Ausgewählte Vorträge und Aufsätze, 
Band 1.  Bern: Francke.

Binswanger, L.  (1963 [1936])  Freud's Conception of Man 
in the Light of Anthropology.  In: Binswanger 1963: 149-181.

Binswanger, L.  (1963)   Being-in-the-World: Selected Papers 
of Ludwig Binswanger Translated and with a Critical 
Introduction to His Existential Psychoanalysis by Jacob 
Needleman.  New York and London: Basic Books.

Binswanger, L.  (1944-5)  Der Fall Ellen West. Schweizer 
Archiv für Neurologie und Psychiatrie, Vols. 53-5.

Binswanger, L.  (1957 [1944-5])  Der Fall Ellen West.  
In: Binswanger 1957: 57-188.

Binswanger, L.  (1957)  Schizophrenie.  Pfullingen: Neske.

Binswanger, L.  (1958 [1944-5])  The case of Ellen West.  
In: May, Angel & Ellenberger 1958: 237-364.

Bion, W. F.  (1991 [1962])  Learning from Experience.  London: Karnac.

Blanton, S.  (1971)  Diary of My Analysis with Freud.  
New York: Hawthorn Books.

Bohm, D.  (1981 [1980])  Wholeness and the Implicate Order.  
London: Routledge.

Bonhoeffer, D.  (1963)  Letters and Papers from Prison.  
London: Fontana Books.

Boss, M.  (1953)  Der Traum und seine Auslegung.  
Bern and Stuttgart: Hans Huber.

Boss, M.  (1957 [1953])  The Analysis of Dreams.  London: Rider.

Boss, M.  (1975 [1971])  Grundriss der Medizin und der 
Psychologie: Ansätze zu einer phänomenologischen Physiologie, 
Psychologie, Pathologie, Therapie und zu einer daseinsgemässen 
Präventiv-Medizin in der modernen Industrie-Gesellschaft. 
(Second edition.)  Bern, Stuttgart, Wien: Hans Huber.

Boss, M.  (1979 [1967])  Modell und Antimodell  in der 
Psychosomatischen Medizin.  In: Boss 1979: 327-346.

Boss, M.  (1979 [1973])  Sigmund Freud und die 
naturwissenschaftliche Denkmethode. In: Boss 1979: 387-404.

Boss, M.  (1979 {1974})  Psychotherapie und Wissenschaft.  
In: Boss 1979: 423-441.

Boss, M. (1979)  Von der Psychoanalyse zur Daseinsanalyse. 
Wien, München, Zürich: Europa Verlag.

Boss, M.  (1983 [1975])  Existential Foundations of Medicine 
and Psychology. (Second edition.)  New York and London: 
Jason Aronson.

Boss, M. and Holzhey-Kunz, A.  (1982)  Das Konzept des 
Widerstandes in der Daseinsanalyse.  In: Boss 1982: 111-131.

Boss, M.  (1982)  Von der Spannweite der Seele.  
Bern: Benteli.

Braunthal, J. (ed.)  (1961)  Otto Bauer: Eine Auswahl aus 
seinem Lebenswerk. Vienna: Wiener Volksbuchhandlung.

Breuer, J.  (1987 [1895])  Beobachtung I.  Frl. Anna O . . .  
In: Freud 1987: 221-243.

Breuer and Freud 1991 [1895]: 42-66.

Breuer, J. and Freud, S.  (1991 [1895])  Studien über 
Hysterie.  Frankfurt am Main: Fischer Taschenbuch Verlag.

Choisy, M.  (1974)  Sigmund Freud: A New Appraisal.  
Westport, Connecticut: Greenwood Press.

Cioffi, F.  (1998)  Freud and the Question of Pseudoscience.  
Chicago and La Salle, Illinois: Open Court.

Decker, H. S.  (1991)  Freud, Dora, and Vienna 1900.  
New York: The Free Press.

Deutsch, F.  (1957)  A footnote to Freud's 'Fragment of 
an analysis of a case of hysteria'.  
Psychoanal. Q. 26: 159-167.

Doolittle, Hilda (H. D.)  (1974)  Tribute to Freud.  
New York: New Directions.

Dorsey, J. M.  (1976)  An American Psychiatrist in 
Vienna, 1935-1937, and his Sigmund Freud.  
Detroit: Center for Health Education.

Edinger, D.  (1968)  Bertha Pappenheim: Freud's Anna O.  
Highland Park, Illinois: Congregation Solel.

Eissler, K. R.  (1969)  Irreverent remarks about the 
present and the future of psychoanalysis.  
Int. J. Psychoanal. 50: 461-471.

Eliot, T. S.  (1988 [1928])  Review of Freud's 
The Future of an Illusion. In: Kiell 1988: 575-577.

Ellenberger, H. F.  (1972)  The story of  'Anna O.': 
A critical review with new data.  
J. Hist. Behav. Sci. 8: 267-269.

Esterson, A.  (1970)  The Leaves of Spring: A Study in 
the Dialectics of Madness.  London: Tavistock.

Esterson, A.  (1993)  Personal communication.

Feyerabend, P. K.  (1970)  Consolations for the 
specialist.  In: Lakatos and Musgrave 1970: 197-230.

Fichtner, G. (ed.)  (1992)  Sigmund Freud / Ludwig Binswanger 
Briefwechsel 1908-1938.  Frankfurt am Main: S. Fischer.

Fliess, R.  (1970 [1961])  Ego and Body Ego: Contributions 
to Their Psychoanalytic Psychology.  New York: International 
Universities Press.

Foucault, M.  (1967 [1961])  Madness and Civilization: 
A History of Insanity in the Age of Reason.  London: Tavistock.

Freeman, L.  (1972 [1971])  The Story of Anna O.  
New York: Walker.

Freud, A.  (1973 [1971])  Foreword.  In: Gardiner 1973: ix-xii.

Freud, A.  (1980)  Personal communication.

(Freud CP)  Freud, S.  (1924-50)  Collected Papers. 
Vols. 1-5.  London: The Hogarth Press and 
The Institute of Psycho-Analysis.

(Freud GW)  Freud, S.  (1960-68)  Gesammelte Werke. Bd. 1-18.  
Frankfurt am Main: S. Fischer.

Freud, S.  (1986)  Briefe an Wilhelm Fließ 1887-1904.  
Frankfurt am Main: S. Fischer.

Freud, S.  (1987)  Gesammelte Werke. Nachtragsband: 
Texte aus den Jahren 1885-1938. Frankfurt am Main: 
S. Fischer.

(Freud SE)  Freud, S.  (1953-75)  The Standard Edition of 
the Complete Psychological Works of Sigmund Freud. 
Vols. 1-24.  London: The Hogarth Press and 
The Institute of Psycho-Analysis.

Gardiner, M. (ed.)  (1973)  The Wolf-Man and Sigmund Freud.  
London: The Hogarth Press and The Institute of Psycho-Analysis.

Gopnik, A., Meltzoff, A. and Kuhl, P.  (1999)  How Babies Think: 
The Science of Childhood.    London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson.

Goshen, C. E. (1952)  The original case material of psychoanalysis.  
Amer. J. Psychiat. 108: 829-834.

Harrison, C.  (1984)  Freud: A Novel.  Harmondsworth: Penguin Books.

Heidegger, M.  (1992 [1982])  Parmenides.  Gesamtausgabe Band 54.  
(Second edition.)  Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann.

Heidegger, M.  (1990 [1981])  Aristoteles, Metaphysik IX. 1-3:  
Von Wesen und Wirklichkeit der Kraft.  Gesamtausgabe Band 33.  
(Second edition.) Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann.

Heidegger, M.  (1995)  Aristotle's Metaphysics IX. 1-3: 
On the Essence and Actuality of Force.  Bloomington and 
Indianapolis: Indiana University Press.

Henry, M.  (1993 [1985])  The Genealogy of Psychoanalysis.  
Stanford, California: Stanford University Press.

Hirschmüller, A.  (1978)  Physiologie und Psychoanalyse im 
Leben und Werk Josef Breuers.  Bern: Hans Huber.

Hirschmüller, A.  (1989 [1978])  The Life and Work of 
Josef Breuer: Physiology and Psychoanalysis.  New York 
and London : New York University Press.

Hirst, A.  (1967?)  Analysed and Reeducated by Freud 
Himself, by Albert Hirst, the Grateful Patient.  
(Unpublished typescript.)

Isnard, C. A. and Zeeman, E. C.  (1977 [1976])  
Some models from catastrophe theory in the social 
sciences.  In: Zeeman 1977: 303-359.

Kardiner, A.  (1977)  My Analysis with Freud.  New York: Norton.

Kaufmann, W.  (1980)  Discovering the Mind (Volume Three): 
Freud versus Adler and Jung.  New York: McGraw-Hill.

Kiell, N. (ed.)  (1988)  Freud Without Hindsight: 
Reviews of His Work, 1893-1939.  Madison, Connecticut: 
International Universities Press.

Kuhn, T. S.  (1970)  The Structure of Scientific Revolutions. 
(Second edition.)  Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Laing, R. D.  (1961)  The Self and Others. 
(First edition.)  London: Tavistock.

Laing, R. D.  (1969)  Self and Others. 
(Second edition.)  London: Tavistock.

Laing, R. D. and Esterson, A.  (1964)  Sanity, Madness 
and the Family. Volume 1: Families of Schizophrenics.  
London: Tavistock.

Lakatos, I. and Musgrave, A. (ed.)  (1970)  Criticism 
and the Growth of Knowledge.  Cambridge: Cambridge 
University Press.

Lawrence, D. H.  (1971 [1923])  Fantasia of the 
Unconscious and Psychoanalysis and the Unconscious.  
Harmondsworth: Penguin.

Leichter, O.  (1970)  Otto Bauer: Tragödie oder Triumph.  
Vienna: Europa Verlag.

(Lieben D)  Lieben, A.  (1866-1877)  The locked diary 
of Anna von Todesco, later Anna Lieben, 1866-1877.  

(Lieben M)  Lieben, A.  (1866-1873)  The fair copy 
manuscript book of poems by Anna von Todesco, later 
Anna Lieben, 1866-1873.  (Unpublished.)

(Lieben P)  Lieben, A.  (1901)  Gedichte.  
Vienna: privately printed.

Liddell and Scott  (1990 [1843])  A Greek-English Lexicon.  
Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Lohser, B. and Newton, P. M.  (1996)  Unorthodox Freud: 
The View from the Couch.  New York and London: 
The Guilford Press.

McGuire, W. (ed.)  (1994 [1974]) The Freud/Jung Letters: 
The Correspondence between Sigmund Freud and C. G. Jung. 
(Fourth printing)  London: Routledge and The Hogarth Press.

McGuire, W. and Sauerländer, W. (ed.)  (1974)  Sigmund Freud / 
C. G. Jung Briefwechsel.   Frankfurt am Main: S. Fischer.

Magaziner, A.  (1975)  Die Wegbereiter: Aus der Geschichte 
der Arbeiterbewegung.  Vienna: Volksbuchverlag.

Mahony, P.  (1986)  Freud and the Rat Man.  New Haven 
and London: Yale University Press.

Mahony, P.  (1996)  Freud's Dora: A Psychoanalytic, 
Historical, and Textual Study. New Haven and London: 
Yale University Press.

Masson, J. M.  (1984)  The Assault on Truth: 
Freud's Suppression of the Seduction Theory.  
New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux.

Masson, J. M. (ed.)  (1985)  The Complete Letters of 
Sigmund Freud and Wilhelm Fliess 1887-1904.  Cambridge, 
Massachusetts: Belknap.

Masterman, M.  (1970)  The nature of a paradigm.  
In: Lakatos and Musgrave 1970: 59-89.

May, R., Angel, E. & Ellenberger, H. F. (ed.)  (1958)  
Existence: A New Dimension in Psychiatry and Psychology.  
New York: Basic Books.

Meerwein, F.  (1965)  Psychiatrie und Psychoanalyse 
in der psychiatrischen Klinik.  Basel: Karger.

Motesiczky, M.-L. von  (1984)  Personal communication.

Nabokov, V.  (1980)  Lectures on Literature. 
(Fredson Bowers, ed.)  New York and London: 
Harcourt Brace Jovanovitch.

Nabokov, V.  (1981 [1971])  Rowe's symbols.  
In: Nabokov 1981: 304-307.

Nabokov, V.  (1981)  Strong Opinions.  
New York: McGraw-Hill.

Roazen, P.  (1986 [1985])  Helene Deutsch: 
A Psychoanalyst's Life.  New York:

Roazen, P.  (1995)  How Freud Worked: First-Hand 
Accounts of Patients. Northvale, New Jersey and London: 
Jason Aronson.

Roith, E.  (1994)  Review of 'Tell it not in Dan: 
The untold story of Freud's seduction theory' (Anthony Stadlen).  
Reflections: The Magazine of the London
Centre for Psychotherapy.  Winter 1994: 14-15.

Semple, J. G. and Kneebone, G. T.  (1956 [1952])  
Algebraic Projective Geometry.  Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Skues, R., Stadlen, A. and Swales, P. J.  (2000)  'Aliquis': 
Historical detection -- existential analysis.  12-Hour 
Freud Centenary Seminar (24 September 2000).  London: 
Regent's College Conference Centre.

Smith, D. L.  (1991)  Hidden Conversations: An Introduction 
to Communicative Psychoanalysis.  London and New York: 

Spiegelberg, H.  (1965)  The Phenomenological Movement: 
A Historical Introduction.  (Two volumes.)  (Second edition.)  
The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff.

Spurling, L. (ed.)  (1989)  Freud: Critical Assessments. 
Vol. 2.  London: Routledge.

Stadlen, A.  (1977-2001)  Research archive on Freud's 
paradigm cases.

Stadlen, A.  (1985a)  Dora's illness.  The Times Higher 
Education Supplement. 14 June 1985.

Stadlen, A.  (1985b)  Contribution to podium discussion.  
Freud op de Divan: Twee Lezingen door Jeffrey Masson en 
Anthony Stadlen.  Paradiso, Amsterdam, 1 November 1985.

Stadlen, A.  (1985c)  Was Dora wel ziek?  
Vrij Nederland.  2 November 1985.

Stadlen, A.  (1989 [1985])  Was Dora 'ill'?  
In: Spurling 1989: 196-203.

Stadlen, A.  (1994)  Tell it not in Dan: The untold 
story of Freud's seduction theory.  Transcript of 
lecture to conference, Psychoanalytic Seductions, 
at Institute of Contemporary Arts, London, 19 March 1994.

Stadlen, A.  (1999)  Demythologizing Daseinsanalysis. 
Transcript of lecture to the Fourth International Forum 
of the International Federation of Daseinsanalysis, 
Zurich, 7 May 1999.

Stadlen, A.  (2000a)  Why should existential therapists 
study Freud? Hermeneutic Circular: Newsletter of the 
Society for Existential Analysis. April 2000: 20.

Stadlen A.  (2000b)  Freud's 'Dora' case: 100 years 
later -- An existential study.  12-Hour Freud Centenary 
Seminar (29 October 2000).  London: 
Regent's College Conference Centre.

Stepansky, P. E. (ed.)  (1986)  Freud: Appraisals and 
Reappraisals -- Contributions to Freud Studies. Vol. 1.  
Hillsdale, New Jersey: The Analytic Press.

Swales, P. J.  (1986)  Freud, his teacher and the birth 
of psychoanalysis. In: Stepansky 1986: 2-82.

Szasz, T. S.  (1961)  The Myth of Mental Illness: 
Foundations of a Theory of Personal Conduct.  
New York: Paul B. Hoeber.

Szasz, T. S.  (1963)  Law, Liberty and Psychiatry: 
An Inquiry into the Social Uses of Mental Health 
Practices.  New York: Macmillan.

Szasz, T. S. (1965)  The Ethics of Psychoanalysis: 
The Theory and Method of Autonomous Psychotherapy.  
New York: Basic Books.

Szasz, T. S.  (1979)  Schizophrenia: The Sacred 
Symbol of Psychiatry. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Szasz, T. S.  (1999)  Personal communication.

Thom, R.  (1977 [1974])  La théorie des catastrophes: 
Etat présent et perspectives. [and] Answer to 
Christopher Zeeman's reply.  In: Zeeman 1977: 615-650.

Thom, R.  (1993 [1991])  Prédire n'est pas Expliquer: 
Entretiens avec Emile Noël.  Flammarion.

Wortis, J.  (1975)  Fragments of an Analysis with 
Freud.  New York: McGraw-Hill.

Zeeman, E. C.  (1977)  Catastrophe Theory: Selected Papers 
1972-1977. Reading, Massachusetts: Addison-Wesley.

- - -

Anthony Stadlen has practised in London for thirty 
years as an existential-phenomenological psychotherapist 
with individuals, couples and families.  He teaches and 
supervises psychotherapists at several institutes.
For more than two decades he has researched the paradigm 
cases of Freud, Layard, Fordham, Boss, Laing, Esterson, 
and others.  He is a former Research Fellow of the Freud 
Museum, London.  His monthly Inner Circle Seminars on
the foundations of psychotherapy are now in their sixth 
His email address is stadlen@aol.com