|
· Author's
Introduction ·
In
November of 1988, I sent an earlier draft of
this paper to R.D.Laing at his flat in Going,
Austria, along with the inscription: "For
R.D.Laing, to whom the Serpent speaks". I did
this in the hope that, on reading it, he would
agree to meet with me. At the time, my ambition
was to write a monograph on the history of
psychoanalytic psychiatry in Scotland, which
would compare and contrast Laings
contributions with those of Ian Suttie, W.R.D.
Fairbairn, John Sutherland and their lesser
known contemporaries. Laing wrote back to say
that he found the paper "very interesting", and
encouraged me to meet him in May of 89,
during his (last) therapeutic workshop/retreat
with Andrew Feldmar on Salt Spring
Island.
Unfortunately,
I could not attend the workshop, and later wrote
to Andrew Feldmar once again to see if he could
help me track Laing down. Feldmar wrote me a few
days afterwards, informing me of Laings
recent death. On getting this news, I cried
bitterly, and swore to Sharna, my girlfriend
(now my wife) that I would write a memorable
book about this remarkable, misunderstood
man.
As
it turned out, in the ensuing years, I wrote not
one, but two books about Laing, and a version of
this paper finally appeared in 1994, in the
International Forum of Psychoanalysis,
vol. 3, pp. 205-219. In the intervening period,
I have come to think of Laing less as a
psychoanalytic thinker, and more as an
existential-phenomenological one. Nevertheless,
this version, updated for inclusion on the SLS
website, has only been changed very slightly
from the one he read. And now, I can re-dedicate
it:
"For
R.D.Laing, to whom the Serpent spoke."
 
Despite
his indebtedness to Romanticism (Ellenberger, 1970,
pp.199-223), Freud was basically an Enlightenment
figure. His first published reflections on religion
appear in 1901, in The Psychopathology of
Everyday Life, and culminate in Moses and
Monotheism, published in 1939. However, one
striking feature of Freud's writings on religion
are the paucity of references to the book of
Genesis, and to its first three chapters in
particular. Of course, the absence of a
published interpretation of Genesis and the
myth of the Fall does not preclude the possibility
that this motif informed Freud at some critical
juncture. Given Freud's immersion in literature and
comparative religion, his time, place of birth and
ethnicity, it would be more surprising if it did
not.
Building
on the work of McGuire (1974) and Forrester (1980),
John Kerr reminds us that the centrality of the
Oedipus complex was not an analytic article of
faith until mid 1910 -- if then. Prior to that
point, the theme of infantile sexual researches
overlapped and occasionally overshadowed the
Oedipus motif, and figures prominently in the case
history of Little Hans (Freud, 1909), the
study on Leonardo (Freud,1910), and a variety of
theoretical papers, including 'The Sexual
Enlightenment of Children' (Freud, 1907), 'The
Sexual Theories of Children' (Freud, 1908) and
'Family Romances' (Freud, 1909). In a discussion of
Otto Rank's book, The Myth of the Birth of the
Hero, for the Wednesday Night Meeting of
November 25, 1908, Freud even declared that
'
. . . the conflict with the father has its
origin not in sexual rivalry for the mother, but
in the father's concealment of the facts about
the sexual processes concerned with birth
(Nunberg & Federn, 1967, vol. 1,
p.72)'.
Thus,
though the possible universality of the
Oedipus complex may have occurred to Freud as early
as 1897 in his correspondence with Fliess
(Rudnytsky, 1987), the categorical insistence on
the primacy of the Oedipus complex as the
nuclear explanatory concept was not axiomatic among
Freud's followers until Totem & Taboo
(Freud,1913).
One
feature of Freud's formulations on infantile sexual
researches prior to 1911 warrants close scrutiny,
namely, their conjoint emphasis on what some have
termed the "epistemophilic instinct", but I prefer
to call the child's disposition to truth.
Prior to 1911, the pathogenic potential of
infantile sexual researches was ascribed to the
child's predilection for naughty ideas and the
adults' desire to suppress them. According to
Freud, the ensuing conflict in the child's mind
results in a dissociation of the unwanted ideas and
affects, engendered by the child's fear of losing
their love. But where the child experiences the
adult withholding information out of prudishness,
or some other ulterior motive, notes Freud, this
erodes the child's trust and confidence in his or
her adult caretakers. Indeed, between 1907 and
1910, Freud frequently conveyed the impression that
the child treated to a fairy tale, rather than a
candid disclosure of the facts, feels hoodwinked,
and may attempt to retaliate for being ill used. In
the case of "Little Hans", for example, Freud took
young Herbert Graf's willful and persistent
confabulation about the recent birth of a younger
sibling as a bitter satire on his father. In
Freud's own words:
It
is as much as to say: "If you really expect me
to believe that the stork brought Hanna in
October , when even in the summer, while we were
travelling to Gmunden, I'd noticed how big
mother's stomach was -- then I expect you to
believe my lies (Freud, 1909, p. 70-71).
At
this stage of his work, then, Freud implied that
the child's rebellion against paternal authority
has a rational basis, and is not simply or
primarily a reactive response to the an adult's
attempt to curb its precocious lust. On the
contrary, the child rebels because the adult is
deceptive and bent on withholding knowledge .
This idea informs his study of Leonardo, who became
an exemplary scientist because he 'escaped being
intimidated by his father in earliest childhood',
enabling him to dispense with reliance on authority
in his naturalistic inquiries (Freud, 1910,
p.123).
But
if Freud's Leonardo caps a series of works that
probe children's yearning to discover the truth,
Freud did not attribute this lofty quality of
mind to children without qualification. In 'The
Sexual Enlightenment of Children' (Freud, 1907),
for example, Freud speculated that there are two
'selfish' motives originating in empirical
observation that trigger infantile sexual
curiosity. One is the presumption (among little
boys) that all living creatures have a genital
like his own. This supposition soon comes into
conflict with the observed disparity between the
genitalia of boys and girls, which engenders
further inquiry and speculation. Another, more
momentous motive -- at this point in Freud's
theorizing (Lidz, 1988) -- was the desire to
fathom the mystery of where new or unwelcome
siblings come from.
Finally,
Freud cited a third stimulus to scientific
curiosity, namely, the scopophilic 'instinct'. In
this formulation, the child's 'genuine research
interests' and later scientific activities are
derivatives of the desire to witness intercourse
and/or some other passive sexual aims.
Unfortunately, it is difficult to decide how much
weight to attach to this idea. In the Three
Essays on the Theory of Sexuality (1905), the
scopophilic impulse is one of several pregenital
impulses at play in the child. While it is accorded
considerable significance here -- and again, in
Leonardo -- it is later left to languish in
relative obscurity.
|