CONTENTS
Cover
About the Book
About the Author
Also by Melanie Klein
Title Page
Foreword
Preface
Introduction
First Session
Second Session
Third Session
Fourth Session
Fifth Session
Sixth Session
Seventh Session
Eighth Session
Ninth Session
Tenth Session
Eleventh Session
Twelfth Session
Thirteenth Session
Fourteenth Session
Fifteenth Session
Sixteenth Session
Seventeenth Session
Eighteenth Session
Nineteenth Session
Twentieth Session
Twenty-first Session
Twenty-second Session
Twenty-third Session
Twenty-fourth Session
Twenty-fifth Session
Twenty-sixth Session
Twenty-seventh Session
Twenty-eighth Session
Twenty-ninth Session
Thirtieth Session
Thirty-first Session
Thirty-second Session
Thirty-third Session
Thirty-fourth Session
Thirty-fifth Session
Thirty-sixth Session
Thirty-seventh Session
Thirty-eighth Session
Thirty-ninth Session
Fortieth Session
Forty-first Session
Forty-second Session
Forty-third Session
Forty-fourth Session
Forty-fifth Session
Forty-sixth Session
Forty-seventh Session
Forty-eighth Session
Forty-ninth Session
Fiftieth Session
Fifty-first Session
Fifty-second Session
Fifty-third Session
Fifty-fourth Session
Fifty-fifth Session
Fifty-sixth Session
Fifty-seventh Session
Fifty-eighth Session
Fifty-ninth Session
Sixtieth Session
Sixty-first Session
Sixty-second Session
Sixty-third Session
Sixty-fourth Session
Sixty-fifth Session
Sixty-sixth Session
Sixty-seventh Session
Sixty-eighth Session
Sixty-ninth Session
Seventieth Session
Seventy-first Session
Seventy-second Session
Seventy-third Session
Seventy-fourth Session
Seventy-fifth Session
Seventy-sixth Session
Seventy-seventh Session
Seventy-eighth Session
Seventy-ninth Session
Eightieth Session
Eighty-first Session
Eighty-second Session
Eighty-third Session
Eighty-fourth Session
Eighty-fifth Session
Eighty-sixth Session
Eighty-seventh Session
Eighty-eighth Session
Eighty-ninth Session
Ninetieth Session
Ninety-first Session
Ninety-second Session
Ninety-third Session
Final Remarks
Picture Section
Acknowledgements
Index
Copyright
About the Book
In this book, Melanie Klein’s last work and a companion volume to the Psycho-analysis of Children, she gives a detailed account of the analysis of a ten-year-old boy, Richard, which lasted four months. Keeping notes of each session, Klein was able to describe the day-to-day course of the analysis, interpreting Richard’s drawings, play, verbal associations, and reports of dreams. She also makes clear the effects of these interpretations on material in subsequent sessions. Also included is the reproduction of seventy-one of the drawings made by the patient, the analysis of which is elaborated in the text.
This fascinating and deeply instructive case study shows the fluctuations which characterise a psycho-analysis and reveals the dynamics of the steps which eventually lead to progress in treatment. In a series of notes accompanying the clinical description, Melanie Klein comments upon the clinical material, linking the actual instances to more theoretical conclusions. In doing so, she has provided an invaluable guide to the technique of psycho-analysing children.
About the Author
Melanie Klein was born in Vienna in 1882, the youngest of four children. At fourteen, she decided to study medicine and with her brother’s help learnt enough Greek and Latin to pass into the Gymnasium. But her early engagement and subsequent marriage in 1903 brought a halt to her plans, Years later, discovering a booklet on dreams by Freud, she turned her attention to psychoanalysis. She was living in Budapest at the time and began her own analysis with Ferenczi, who encouraged her interest in the analysis of children. In 1921 she moved to Berlin to continue her work with children, supported by Dr Karl Abraham and in 1926 she moved to London where she worked and lived until her death in 1960.
Also by Melanie Klein
Love, Guilt and Reparation and Other Works
The Psycho-Analysis of Children
Envy and Gratitude and Other Works
Narrative of a Child Analysis
FOREWORD
The Narrative of a Child Analysis occupies a unique position in the body of Mrs. Klein’s work.
It is a daily account of the analysis of a child of ten, which lasted four months. Each session is followed by notes in which Mrs. Klein evaluates her technique and the patient’s material in terms of her later theories. These notes, being much fuller and, of course, more authoritative than any other editorial comment could be, such comments are not included in this volume.
I had the unusual opportunity to know Mrs. Klein’s attitude to this work through the good fortune of having been invited by her to help with the editing of the material and the preparation of the notes in many hours of discussion extending over some years. I know that it had long been her ambition to write a full case study of a child’s analysis, based on daily detailed notes which she had always kept, session by session, for all her child patients. But the problem of scale in giving a satisfactory account of a total analysis seemed insurmountable.
Then the war threw up a circumstance which suddenly offered a possible solution. An analysis was arranged for Richard. There was a limited and known amount of time available—four months. This limit was known equally to the analyst and the patient from the beginning. So Mrs. Klein found herself with case notes of a short analysis, which could be encompassed in a single volume. She did not contend that it was in no way different from an analysis of normal duration. She felt particularly the lack of the opportunity to work through particular anxieties and then to encounter them in other forms and work through them again in greater depth. In this process, other types of anxieties, other psychic processes, would have been uncovered. But notwithstanding the shortcomings, she thought that the essential elements of a full analysis were all present, sufficiently to illustrate both the patient’s personality and her work.
Some fifteen years later she decided to work seriously on the book. She went through the case notes for each session, carefully editing in style, but not in content, so as to leave intact the picture of how the work had gone at the time. Then she subjected each session in her mind to self-criticism and evaluation. These new thoughts about the sessions and the changes in her way of thinking are recorded in detailed notes which she prepared, going through each session, association by association, interpretation by interpretation, so as to be able to explain her work as fully as she could.
She probably devoted more intense care to the Narrative of a Child Analysis than to any other of her works. Indeed, in the hospital, a few days before her death, she was still going through the proofs and index of the book. She wanted to leave as faithful an account as she could of both her practical and theoretical work. In this, I think, she succeeded. The book is a living thing. It presents Mrs. Klein at work as no other paper does. It gives a faithful picture of her technique and, through the notes, an insight into how her mind worked. It shows her theoretical concepts at the time of the analysis. A great many of her formulations in the paper “The Oedipus Complex in the Light of Early Anxieties” (1945, Writings, 1) are based on Richard’s material, but it also reveals new ideas at the point of their emergence, ideas intuitively conceived, but not yet developed or conceptualised. This, her last work, is a fitting monument of her creativity.
Elliott Jaques
Note About the References
References in the text and footnotes to other works by Melanie Klein have, in most cases, been changed to indicate the volume number in The Writings of Melanie Klein in which they may be found. (For this purpose, the abbreviation Writings has been used throughout.)
In the case of The Psycho-Analysis of Children (Writings, 2) only the page references have been changed, to conform with the Writings edition.
PREFACE
In presenting the following case-history, I have several aims in view. I wish first of all to illustrate my technique in greater detail than I have done formerly. The extensive notes I made enable the reader to observe how interpretations find confirmation in the material following them. The day-to-day movement in the analysis, and the continuity running through it, thus become perceptible. Furthermore, the details of this analysis clarify and support my concepts. The reader will find all my comments about theory and technique at the end of each session.
In The Psycho-Analysis of Children I was only able to give extracts of my observations and interpretations; and since in that book I was mainly concerned with putting forward a number of hypotheses regarding previously undiscovered anxiety contents and defences, I could not give at the time an all-round picture of my technique; in particular, the fact that I made consistent use of transference interpretations was not sufficiently evident. However, in my view the main principles put forward in The Psycho-Analysis of Children remain valid.
Though the analysis I am describing here lasted only ninety-three sessions, extending over about four months, the unusual cooperativeness of the child enabled me to penetrate to great depths.
I took fairly extensive notes, but I could of course not always be sure of the sequence, nor quote literally the patient’s associations and my interpretations. This difficulty is one of a general nature in reporting on case material. To give verbatim accounts could only be done if the analyst were to take notes during the session; this would disturb the patient considerably and break the unhindered flow of associations, as well as divert the analyst’s attention from the course of the analysis. Another possibility of obtaining literal accounts is the use of a recording machine, either visible or hidden—a measure which, in my view, is absolutely against the fundamental principles on which psycho-analysis rests, namely the exclusion of any audience during an analytic session. Not only do I believe that the patient, if he had any reason to suspect that a machine was being used (and the unconscious is very perspicacious), would not speak and behave in the way he does when he is alone with the analyst; but I am also convinced that the analyst, speaking to an audience which the machine implies, would not interpret in the same natural and intuitive way as he does when alone with his patient.
For all these reasons I am sure that notes taken as soon as possible after each session provide the best picture of the day-to-day happenings in the analysis, and therefore of the course of the analysis. Hence I believe that—allowing for all the limitations I have enumerated—I am giving in this book a true account of my technique and of the material.
It has to be kept in mind that the evidence which the analyst can present differs essentially from that which is required in physical science, because the whole nature of psycho-analysis is different. In my view, endeavours to provide comparable exact data result in a pseudo-scientific approach, because the workings of the unconscious mind, and the response of the psycho-analyst to them, cannot be submitted to measurement nor classified into rigid categories. For instance, a machine could only reproduce the actual words spoken, without their accompaniment of facial expressions and movements. These intangible factors play an important part in an analysis, as does the intuition of the analyst.
Nevertheless, since certain working hypotheses are put forward and tested in the material which the patient produces, psycho-analysis is a scientific procedure and its technique embodies scientific principles. The assessment and interpretation of the patient’s material by the analyst are based on a coherent framework of theory. It is the task of the analyst, however, to combine his theoretical knowledge with insight into the individual variations presented by each patient. At any given moment we are confronted with one dominant trend of anxieties, emotions, and object-relations, and the symbolic content of the patient’s material has a precise and exact meaning in connection with this dominant theme.
This book is intended to illustrate the psycho-analytic procedure, which consists in selecting the most urgent aspects of the material and interpreting them with precision. The patient’s reactions and subsequent associations amount to further material, which again has to be analysed on the same principles.
Working-through was one of the essential demands that Freud made on an analysis. The necessity to work through is again and again proved in our day-to-day experience: for instance, we see that patients, who at some stage have gained insight, repudiate this very insight in the following sessions and sometimes even seem to have forgotten that they had ever accepted it. It is only by drawing our conclusions from the material as it reappears in different contexts, and is interpreted accordingly, that we gradually help the patient to acquire insight in a more lasting way. The process of adequately working-through includes bringing about changes in the character and strength of the manifold splitting processes which we meet with even in neurotic patients, as well as the consistent analysis of paranoid and depressive anxieties. Ultimately this leads to greater integration.
The analysis I am presenting, though it remained unfinished, was illuminating in various ways. As my account shows, I could penetrate into very deep layers of the mind, thus enabling the patient to free much of his phantasy life and to become conscious of some of his anxieties and defences; but adequate working-through was not possible.
In spite of the difficulties inherent in the shortness of this analysis, I was determined not to modify my technique and to interpret in the usual way even deep anxiety situations as they came up and the corresponding defences. If such interpretations are to some extent understood by the patient, even though not adequately worked through, the analysis has in fact not been without value. Although splitting processes and repression are bound to set in again, some lasting alterations have taken place in fundamental regions of the mind.
Nevertheless, I remain fully convinced that however much we improve our technique in the future, this progress will not lead to shorter analyses. On the contrary, my experience points to the conclusion that the more time was have at our disposal for carrying out our treatment, the better we can diminish persecutory and depressive anxiety and help the patient to achieve integration.
INTRODUCTION
Richard was ten years old when I began his analysis.1 His symptoms had developed to such an extent that it had become impossible for him to attend school after the age of eight, when the outbreak of the war in 1939 had increased his anxieties. He was very frightened of other children and this contributed to an increasing avoidance of going out by himself. Moreover, since about the age of four or five, a progressive inhibition of his faculties and interests had been causing great concern to his parents. In addition to these symptoms, he was very hypochondriacal and frequently subject to depressed moods. These difficulties showed themselves in his appearance, for he looked very worried and unhappy. At times, however—and this became striking during analytic sessions—his depression lifted, and then suddenly life and sparkle came into his eyes, completely transforming his face.
Richard was in many ways a precocious and gifted child. He was very musical and showed this at an early age. His love of nature was pronounced, though in its pleasant aspects only. His artistic gifts could be seen, for instance, in the way in which he chose his words and in a feeling for the dramatic which enlivened his conversation. He could not get on with children and was at his best with adults, particularly with women. He tried to impress them by his conversational gifts and to ingratiate himself in a rather precocious way.
Breast-feeding had been unsatisfactory and probably continued only for several weeks.2 He had always been delicate and had suffered from colds and illnesses from infancy onwards. His mother reported two operations (circumcision at three years and tonsillectomy in his sixth year). Richard was the younger of two children, his brother being about eight years older. His mother, though not ill in a clinical sense, was inclined towards depression. She was very worried about any illness in Richard, and her attitude had some effect on his hypochondriacal fears. There was no doubt that Richard was rather a disappointment to her and that, although she tried not to show it, she preferred the elder brother, who had been a great success at school and had never caused her any worry. Though Richard was devoted to her, he was an extremely difficult child to live with; he had no hobbies to occupy him, was over-anxious and over-affectionate towards his mother and, since he could not bear to be away from her, clung to her in a persistent and exhausting way; his hypochondriacal fears related to her health as well as his own.
Much care was lavished on him by his mother and in some ways she pampered him, but she did not seem to realize his great inherent capacity for love and kindness and had little confidence in his future development. At the same time she was very patient; for instance, she did not attempt to press the company of other children on him or to force him to attend school.
Richard’s father was fond of him and very kind, but he seemed to leave the responsibility for the boy’s upbringing predominantly to the mother. Although his brother was friendly with Richard, the two boys had little in common. The family life was on the whole peaceful.
The outbreak of the war had greatly increased Richard’s difficulties. His parents moved to the country, and his brother was sent away with his school. For purposes of the analysis, arrangements were made for Richard and his mother to stay in a hotel in ‘X’, the Welsh village where I was living at the time, not very far from the place where they had settled for the duration of the war, which I shall call ‘Y’. On Saturdays he went home for the weekend. Leaving his home town, which I shall call ‘Z’, upset Richard a good deal. Moreover, the war stirred up all his anxieties, and he was particularly frightened of air-raids and bombs. He followed the news closely and took a great interest in the changes in the war situation, and this preoccupation came up again and again during the course of his analysis.
I was renting a playroom for my child patients, since my lodgings, where I treated my adult patients, were unsuitable for analysing children. This playroom was a large place with two doors and an adjoining kitchen and lavatory. Richard identified the playroom with me and with the analysis, and in consequence had almost a personal relation to it. However, it had some drawbacks: it was used at other times by Girl Guides, and I was unable to remove a number of books, pictures, maps, and so on. Another drawback was the absence of a waiting-room and the fact that there was nobody to answer the door. I collected the key and unlocked and locked up the house before and after each session with a child patient. If Richard was early, he occasionally came a little way to meet me. Since I left the house when the session was over, Richard waited for me until I had locked up and then went a short distance with me to the corner of the road (which was only a hundred yards or so from the playroom), except on those occasions when I had to go to the village to do some shopping; then Richard walked with me a little farther. When this happened, though I could not refuse to have some conversation with the boy, I was averse from giving any interpretations or entering into any intimate details. In fact, I kept as closely as I could to the arranged length of the session, which was fifty minutes as with adults.
In the course of his treatment Richard produced a series of drawings. The way he made them was significant: he did not start out with any deliberate plan and was often surprised to see the finished picture. I provided various sorts of play material; in addition, the pencils and crayons with which he made his drawings also figured in his play as people, and he brought his own set of toy ships. When Richard wanted to take the drawings home, I pointed out to him that it would be useful for the analysis to keep them with the toys; for we might sometimes wish to have a look at them again. I was quite aware, and found it repeatedly confirmed in the course of the analysis, that he understood that these drawings had some value for me and that in a sense he was giving me a present. He derived some reassurance from having these ‘gifts’ accepted and valued, and felt this as a means of making reparation—all of which I analysed. This reassuring effect of the analyst’s intention to keep drawings is a problem with which the child analyst is often confronted. Our adult patients frequently experience the wish to make themselves useful to the analyst outside the analytic situation. There is a similarity between such desires and the child’s wish to give the analyst a present; and I have found that the only way of dealing with these feelings is to analyse them.
Although I endeavoured on the whole to put down detailed notes after each session, the amount of detail recorded varied from one hour to another and, particularly at the beginning, a few sessions were incompletely recorded. Except for some of the patient’s remarks, which are indicated by inverted commas, I could not reproduce his associations or my interpretations verbatim, nor could they all be noted down. There were also hours in which the boy’s anxiety made him silent for long periods and he produced less material. It was impossible to describe the nuances of behaviour, gesture, facial expression, and the length of pauses between associations, all of which, as we know, are of particular significance during the analytic work.
In my interpretations I tried, as always, to avoid (as I would with adults as well as with children) introducing any similes, metaphors, or quotations to illustrate my point. For the sake of brevity I occasionally use technical terms in this report when referring back to details from previous sessions. In practice, even when reminding a patient of former material, I never use technical terms, and this again applies not only to children but also to adults. I make a point of using whenever possible the words that the patient has used, and I find that this has the effect both of diminishing resistance and of bringing fully back into his mind the material I am referring to. With Richard I had to introduce in the course of the analysis certain terms which were unknown to him, such as ‘genital’, ‘potent’, ‘sexual relations’, or ‘sexual intercourse’. From one point onwards Richard referred to the analysis as ‘the work’. While I was always concerned to word my interpretations as nearly as I could in Richard’s own language, in writing them down I have been able to give only a summary approximation. Moreover, I have sometimes brought together what were in fact several interpretations separated by some play or comment of the child, which may give the impression that the interpretations were longer than they actually were.
I thought it would be helpful to define certain points in the material and in my interpretations in the same terms as I use in my theoretical writings. Of course, I did not use these formulations in speaking to the child, but have added them in square brackets in the text.
As far as details of the patient’s background are concerned, some slight alterations have been made for reasons of discretion; and in publishing this report I have, therefore, to avoid various references to people and to external circumstances. In spite of all these qualifications, however, I feel confident, as I have said earlier, that I am giving an essentially true picture of this child’s psycho-analysis and of my technique.
I knew from the beginning that it would not be possible to prolong the analysis beyond four months. After careful consideration I undertook it nevertheless, since the impression the child gave me led me to assume that, although I could only expect a partial result, I might be able to produce some improvement in him. He was very much aware of his great difficulties and so strongly wished to be helped that I had no reason to doubt that he would be very cooperative. I also knew that for years to come he would have no other opportunity to be analysed. His eagerness to be treated by me was increased by the fact that a much older boy whom he knew well was a patient of mine.
Although I have, even to the last hour, kept in all essentials to my usual techniques, I found in re-reading my notes that I had answered more questions than in my other child cases. Richard knew from the beginning that his analysis would last only four months. But as the treatment went on he fully understood that he needed much more analysis, and the nearer we came to the end the more pathetic was his fear of being left without it. I was aware of my positive counter-transference but, being on my guard, I was able to keep to the fundamental principle of analysing consistently the negative as well as the positive transference and the deep anxieties which I encountered. I was convinced that, however difficult the actual situation was, the analysis of the anxieties stirred up by his fears of the war3 was the only means of helping him as much as possible. I believe that I have avoided the pitfalls which great sympathy with the suffering of the patient and a positive counter-transference can lead to.
The result of this analysis was, as I expected, only a partial one, but it had in fact an influence on his further development. He was able to go to school for a time; later on he was taught privately and eventually went successfully through a University Course. His relation to his contemporaries improved and his dependence on his mother diminished. He has developed scientific interests and there are some real possibilities of a career for him. I have seen him on several occasions since the end of the war, but there has been no chance so far of continuing his analysis.
1 The details of the patient’s background given here are largely identical with the introductory passages of my paper, ‘The Oedipus Complex in the Light of Early Anxieties’ (1945, Writings, 1) in which I illustrated my conclusions with material drawn from the analysis of the same patient.
2 The mother’s report on this point and on others was rather vague, and therefore there is a number of details of Richard’s early history which I should have liked to know more about but was unable to find out.
3 Cf. ‘On the Theory of Anxiety and Guilt’ (1948, Writings, 3).
FIRST SESSION (Monday)
(The first two sessions are based on incomplete notes)
MRS K. HAD prepared some little toys and a writing-pad, pencils, and chalks on a table, with two chairs by it. When she sat down, Richard also sat down, paying no attention to the toys and looking at her in an expectant and eager way, obviously waiting for her to say something. She suggested that he knew why he was coming to her: he had some difficulties with which he wanted to be helped.
Richard agreed and at once began to talk about his worries (Note I). He was afraid of boys he met in the street and of going out by himself, and this fear had been getting worse and worse. It had made him hate school. He also thought much about the war. Of course he knew the Allies were going to win and was not worried, but was it not awful what Hitler did to people, particularly the terrible things he did to the Poles? Did he mean to do the same over here? But he, Richard, felt confident that Hitler would be beaten. (When speaking about Hitler, he went to have a look at a large map hanging on the wall.)… Mrs K. was Austrian, wasn’t she? Hitler had been awful to the Austrians though he was Austrian himself.… Richard also told of a bomb that had fallen near their garden at their old home (in ‘Z’). Poor Cook had been in the house all by herself. He gave a dramatic description of what had happened. The actual damage had not been great; only some windows were blown in and the greenhouse in the garden collapsed. Poor Cook must have been terrified; she went to neighbours to sleep. Richard thought the canaries in their cages must have been shaken and very frightened.… He again spoke of Hitler’s cruel treatment of conquered countries.… After that he tried to remember whether he had any worries he had not yet mentioned. Oh yes, he often wondered what he was like inside and what other people’s insides were like. He was puzzled about the way blood flowed. If one stood for a long time on one’s head and all the blood went down into it, wouldn’t one die?
Mrs K. asked whether he also worried about his mother sometimes.1
Richard said that he often felt frightened at night, and until four or five years ago he used to be actually terrified. Lately, too, he often felt ‘lonely and deserted’ before going to sleep. He was frequently worried about Mummy’s health: she was sometimes not well. Once she had been brought home on a stretcher after an accident: she had been run over. This had happened before he was born; he had only been told about it, but he often thought about it.… In the evenings he often feared that a nasty man—a kind of tramp—would come and kidnap Mummy during the night. He then pictured how he, Richard, would go to her help, would scald the tramp with hot water and make him unconscious; and if he, Richard, were to be killed, he would not mind—no, he would mind very much—but this would not stop him from going to Mummy’s rescue.
Mrs K. asked how he thought the tramp would get into Mummy’s room.
Richard said (after some resistance) that he might get in through the window: perhaps he would break in.
Mrs K. asked if he also wondered whether the tramp would hurt Mummy.
Richard (reluctantly) answered that he thought the man might hurt her, but he, Richard, would go to her rescue.
Mrs K. suggested that the tramp who would hurt Mummy at night seemed to him very much like Hitler who frightened Cook in the air-raid and ill-treated the Austrians. Richard knew that Mrs K. was Austrian, and so she too would be ill-treated. At night he might have been afraid that when his parents went to bed something could happen between them with their genitals that would injure Mummy (Note II).
Richard looked surprised and frightened. He did not seem to understand what the word ‘genital’ meant.2 Up to this point he had obviously understood and had listened with mixed feelings.
Mrs K. asked whether he knew what she meant by ‘genital’.
Richard first said no, then admitted that he thought he knew. Mummy had told him that babies grew inside her, that she had little eggs there and Daddy put some kind of fluid into her which made them grow. (Consciously he seemed to have no conception of sexual intercourse, nor a name for the genitals.)3 He went on to say that Daddy was very nice, very kind, he wouldn’t do anything to Mummy.
Mrs K. interpreted that he might have contradictory thoughts about Daddy. Although Richard knew that Daddy was a kind man, at night, when he was frightened, he might fear that Daddy was doing some harm to Mummy. When he thought of the tramp, he did not remember that Daddy, who was in the bedroom with Mummy, would protect her; and that was, Mrs K. suggested, because he felt that it was Daddy himself who might hurt Mummy. (At that moment Richard looked impressed and evidently accepted the interpretation.) In day-time he thought Daddy was nice, but at night when he, Richard, could not see his parents and did not know what they were doing in bed, he might have felt that Daddy was bad and dangerous and that all the terrible things which happened to Cook, and the shaking and breaking of windows, were happening to Mummy [Splitting of the father figure into good and bad]. Such thoughts might be in his mind though he was not at all aware of them. Just now he had spoken of the terrible things the Austrian Hitler did to the Austrians. By this he meant that Hitler was in a way ill-treating his own people, including Mrs K., just as the bad Daddy would ill-treat Mummy.
Richard, though he did not say so, appeared to accept this interpretation (Note III). From the beginning of the session he seemed extremely keen to tell all about himself, as if he had been waiting for this chance for a long time. Though he repeatedly showed anxiety and surprise, and rejected some of the interpretations, his whole attitude towards the end of the hour had altered and he was less tense. He said he had noticed the toys, the pad, and pencils on the table, but he did not like toys, he liked talking and thinking. He was very friendly and satisfied when he left Mrs K. and said he was glad to come again next day (Note IV).
Notes to First Session:
I. It is not unusual for a child in the latency period to ask why he is coming to analysis. Most likely he has already put this question at home, and it is useful to discuss this point with the mother or parents beforehand. If there are any difficulties that the child himself recognizes, then the answer is simple: the analyst would reply that it is because of these difficulties that the child is sent to him for treatment. With Richard I opened the question myself; I have found this useful in some cases where the child, though obviously desiring information, would not put the question himself. Otherwise it might take a number of sessions until the analyst has an opportunity to explain the reasons for the treatment. There are, however, children with whom we might first have to trace in the unconscious material the child’s wish to know about his relation to the analyst and his realization that he needs the analysis and that it is helpful. (I have given instances of the beginning of a latency analysis in The Psycho-Analysis of Children, Chapter IV.)
II. Views among analysts differ about the point in the transference at which the material should be interpreted. Whereas I believe that there should be no session without any transference interpretation, my experience has shown me that it is not always at the beginning of the interpretation that the transference should be gone into. When the patient is deeply engrossed in his relation with his father or mother, brother or sister, with his experiences in the past or even in the present, it is necessary to give him every opportunity to enlarge on these subjects. The reference to the analyst then has to come later. On other occasions the analyst might feel that, whatever the patient is speaking about, the whole emotional emphasis lies on his relation to the analyst. In this case, the interpretation would first refer to the transference. Needless to say, a transference interpretation always means referring back the emotions experienced towards the analyst to earlier objects. Otherwise it will not fulfil its purpose sufficiently. This technique of transference interpretation was discovered by Freud in the early days of psycho-analysis and retains its full significance. The intuition of the analyst must guide him in recognizing the transference in material in which he may not have been mentioned directly.
III. In the course of this report I indicate at various places Richard’s reply to my interpretations: sometimes these replies were negative, even expressing strong objection; sometimes they expressed a definite agreement; and sometimes his attention wandered and he did not appear to hear me. Even when his attention wandered, however, it would be wrong to assume that he did not respond at all. But often I did not or could not record the fleeting effect the interpretation made on him. The child would seldom have been sitting silently. while I was speaking. He might get up, pick up a toy or a pencil or pad. He might interject something which was a further association or a doubt. Therefore my interpretations may frequently appear more lengthy and consecutive than they in fact were.
IV. It is unusual for a child in the latency period to bring in the first hours the kind of material that Richard produced, and therefore the interpretations given in other cases would also be different. The content of interpretations and the moment at which they are given vary from patient to patient, according to the material presented and the emotional situation prevailing. (Cf. The Psycho-Analysis of Children, Chapter IV.)
1 I had been told by his mother that he was very worried as soon as there was anything wrong with her. Such information cannot be used often and should become part of interpretations only if it fits very closely into the material. It is safer to rely only on the material given by the child, because otherwise his suspicion might be aroused that the analyst is in close touch with the parents. But in this particular case I felt that the boy was exceptionally ready to talk about all his worries.
2 Cf. Introduction.
3 I had asked Richard’s mother about the expression he used for his genital and was told that he had none for it and never referred to it. He seemed to have no name for urination and defæcation either; but when I introduced the words ‘big job’ and ‘little job’, and sometime later ‘fæces’, he had no difficulty in understanding these expressions.
In a case where repression, encouraged by the environment, has gone so far that no name for the genital or for bodily functions exist, the analyst has to introduce words for them. Doubtless the child knows that he has a genital, as he knows that he produces urine and fæces, and the words introduced will bring up the association with this knowledge, as was shown in this case. Similarly, the expression for sexual intercourse had to be introduced to begin with by describing what he actually unconsciously expected his parents were doing at night. Gradually I used the expression ‘sexual relations’, and later also ‘sexual intercourse’.
SECOND SESSION (Tuesday)
RICHARD ARRIVED A few minutes early and waited for Mrs K. on the doorstep. He seemed eager to start. He said he remembered something else he often worried about, but added that it was very different from the things he had talked about yesterday, altogether far away. He feared there might be a collision between the sun and the earth and the sun might burn up the earth; Jupiter and the other planets would be pulverized; and the earth, the one planet with living people on it, was so important and precious.… He again looked at the map and commented how awful it was what Hitler did to the world, the misery he caused. He thought Hitler was probably gloating in his room because others were suffering and would enjoy having people whipped.… He pointed at Switzerland on the map, saying it was a small neutral country that was ‘encircled’ by the huge Germany. There was also little Portugal, a friend. (He had mentioned, by the way, that he read three newspapers every day and listened to all the news on the wireless.) Brave little Switzerland had dared to shoot down planes, German or British, which flew over her territory.
Mrs K. interpreted that the ‘precious earth’ was Mummy, the living people her children, whom he wanted as allies and friends; hence his references to Portugal, the small country, and to the planets. The sun and earth in collision stood for something happening between his parents. ‘Far away’ meant near by, in the parents’ bedroom. The pulverized planets stood for himself (Jupiter), and Mummy’s other children, if they came between the parents. After speaking about the collision, he had again referred to Hitler destroying Europe and the world. The little countries, such as Switzerland, also represented himself. Mrs K. reminded him of yesterday’s material: how he would attack the tramp who kidnapped Mummy, would scald him, make him unconscious, and how he, Richard, might be killed. This had the same meaning as Jupiter—himself—being pulverized between the colliding earth and sun—his parents.
Richard agreed to part of the interpretation. He said he had often thought in connection with the tramp that he might be killed while defending Mummy, but would rather die than not put up a fight. He agreed, too, with Mrs K.’s interpretation that the earth, precious because of the living people, meant Mummy. He had heard the saying ‘Mother Earth’.… He mentioned that he had asked Mummy when had she been run over by a car and brought home on a stretcher. Mummy said he had been two years old at the time. He had thought that it had happened before he was born.… He said he hated Hitler and would like to hurt him, also Goebbels and Ribbentrop who had dared to say Britain was the aggressor.
Mrs K. referred to yesterday’s material about his attacking the tramp and suggested that when he was in bed at night, he not only feared that Daddy would hurt Mummy, but sometimes he might also think that his parents were enjoying themselves1; therefore he would be jealous and angry with them for leaving him ‘lonely and deserted’. If he wished to hurt them because he was jealous, he would feel very guilty. He had told Mrs K. that he often thought about Mummy’s accident but assumed that it had happened before he was born; this error could be due to his feeling of guilt. He had to convince himself that he had nothing to do with this accident and that it was not his fault. His fear lest the tramp-father should injure his mother, and that sun and earth would collide, might have been connected with his having hostile feelings against his parents.
Richard at first strongly denied that he had such thoughts when he was sent to bed, and said he only felt frightened and unhappy. But he went on to say that he could argue with his parents until they were quite exhausted and could not stand it any longer—and that he enjoyed doing this. He also said he felt jealous when Paul, his brother, came home on leave2 and he thought Paul was Mummy’s favourite. Mummy sometimes sent him chocolates, which Richard resented, though he thought she was right to do so.
Mrs K. referred to his indignation at Ribbentrop’s lies about Britain being the aggressor. She said that his anger about these lies might be all the stronger because he felt the accusation applied to himself. If he experienced jealousy and anger, and also wanted to make trouble between his parents, he would be the aggressor.
Richard remained silent, obviously thinking over the interpretation, and then smiled. When asked why he smiled, he answered that it was because he liked thinking; he had been thinking about what Mrs K. had said and thought she was right.… (The interpretation about his aggressiveness had obviously, after some resistance, produced relief.) He spoke about his relation with Paul who some years before used to tease and chase him. He often hated Paul, but also liked him. Sometimes they were allies against Nurse and teased her3 (Note I). Sometimes Nurse helped him against Paul. He also spoke of a fight he recently had with his cousin Peter whom he usually liked but who hurt him on this occasion. He mentioned how huge his cousin was in comparison with himself.
Mrs K. pointed out that when Peter was rough in a fight, Richard felt him to be a mixture of the nice father and of the bad Hitler—or tramp—father. It was easy for Richard to hate Hitler but painful when he hated his Daddy whom he also loved [Ambivalence].
Richard again spoke with resentment of the welcome Mummy gave Paul when he came home on leave. Then he mentioned Bobby, his spaniel, who always gave Richard a welcome and loved him more than it loved anybody else in the family. (His eyes shone when he said this.) He had been given Bobby as a puppy, and it still jumped on to his lap. He described with evident amusement how, when Daddy got up from his chair, Bobby took his place and Daddy had to sit on the edge. They had had another dog which fell ill when it was eleven years old, and had to be destroyed. Richard had been very sad but got over it.… He also mentioned his granny, of whom he had been very fond and who had died some years before.
Mrs K. interpreted his jealousy in connection with what he had said about Mummy’s love for Paul; immediately after this he had spoken of Bobby welcoming him and jumping on his lap. It seemed that Bobby stood for his child and that he, Richard, overcame his jealousy and resentment by putting himself in the place of Mummy. But when Bobby welcomed and loved him best of all, he, Richard, was the child who was loved by Mummy, and Bobby stood for Mummy. He had mentioned the death of his granny after he had spoken of the old dog which had to be destroyed. This seemed to show that she, too, had been destroyed, possibly he felt—as with Mummy’s accident—through some fault of his. Granny, of whom he was fond, might also stand for Mrs K. and perhaps he feared that some harm would happen to her through him.
(My notes here are particularly incomplete. I am quite certain that Richard must have responded to this interpretation, probably rejecting it; also I have no indication how this session finished. But if my memory is correct, there was no refusal to come on the following day (Note II).)
Notes to Second Session:
I. Generally speaking, a nurse, an aunt or uncle, or a grandparent are of great importance in the young child’s life. The conflict which is always aroused up to a point in the relation to parents does not apply so much to these figures who are removed from the direct impact of the Œdipus situation. The same applies to brothers and sisters. These loved objects also strengthen the good aspect of the mother or father. The memory of such relations becomes important because additional good objects have been introjected.
II. In the first of these two sessions I have clearly aimed at analysing the conscious and unconscious anxiety about harm done to his mother by the ‘bad’ and sexual father. In the second hour I was concerned with the part which his own aggression played in these anxieties. This would suggest that my first aim in analysing a child—and I have repeatedly pointed this out—is to analyse the anxieties that are activated. However, this needs qualification. For it is impossible to analyse anxieties without recognizing the defences which operate against them and which in turn must be analysed.
To return to my present material: Richard was aware of his fear that the tramp would kidnap and harm his mother. He was not conscious of the fact that this fear was a derivative of the anxieties relating to the parents’ sexual intercourse. When I interpreted that specific anxiety content, I also stressed that it was too painful for him to think of his father as a bad man, and that therefore he had turned his fear and suspicion against the tramp and Hitler. This implies analysing a defence as well.
In the second session his anger against Ribbentrop, because he had called Britain an aggressor, was interpreted as representing (as well as hate of the actual Ribbentrop) his revulsion against himself for being aggressive. There, too, I analysed not only the anxiety but also the defence against it, as can be seen if the details of the session and interpretations are considered.
I have pointed out in The Psycho-Analysis of Children (Chapter V) that each interpretation should follow to a certain extent the role of the super-ego, id, and ego. This implies that the various parts of the mind and their functions are systematically explored in an adequate interpretation.
There are analysts who take the view (and I am referring particularly to Anna Freud’s writings) that the analysis of anxieties should be left for a later stage and that defences (either against anxiety or against instinctual urges) should primarily be analysed. I have made it clear in other connections that I do not agree with this view. (Cf. ‘Symposium on Child Analysis’, 1927, Writings, 1.)
1 This is an instance of the difficulty arising from the incompleteness of my notes. The record of this interpretation is misleading, for I would never have given such an interpretation without some material to base it on.
2 By then Paul, who had turned nineteen, was in the army.
3 Nurse had been with the family from the time Richard was born or soon after. She was much loved by him and seems to have been very understanding and kind to him. She had left the family and, since her marriage, did not live far from ‘X’.
THIRD SESSION (Wednesday)
RICHARD WAS ON time. He soon turned to the map and expressed his fears about the British battleships being blockaded in the Mediterranean if Gibraltar were taken by the Germans. They could not get through Suez. He also spoke of injured soldiers and showed some anxiety about their fate. He wondered how the British troops could be rescued from Greece. What would Hitler do to the Greeks; would he enslave them? Looking at the map, he said with concern that Portugal was a very small country compared with big Germany, and would be overcome by Hitler. He mentioned Norway, about whose attitude he was doubtful, though it might not prove to be a bad ally after all.
Mrs Kboth