Sigmund Freud – Biography

By the mid-1890s, he was launched on a full – blown self-analysis, an enterprise for which he had no guidelines and no predecessors.

The book that made his reputation in the profession – although it sold poorly – was The Interpretation of Dreams (1900), an indefinable masterpiece – part dream analysis, part autobiography, part theory of the mind, part history of contemporary Vienna. The principle that underlay this work was that mental experiences and entitles, like physical ones, are part of nature. This meant that Freud could admit no mere accidents in mental procedures. The most nonsensical notion, the most casual slip of the tongue, the most fantastic dream, must have a meaning and can be used to unriddle the often incomprehensible maneuvers we call thinking.

Although the second pillar of Freud’s psychoanalytic structure, Three Essays on the Theory of Sexuality (1905), further alienated him from the mainstream of contemporary psychiatry, he soon found loyal recruits. They met weekly to hash out interesting case histories, converting themselves into the Vienna Psychoanalytic Society in 1908. Working on the frontiers of mental science, these often eccentric pioneers had their quarrels. The two best known “defectors” were Alfred Alder and Carl Jung. Alder, a Viennese physician and socialist, developed his own psychology, which stressed the aggression with which those people lacking in some quality they desire-say, manliness-express their discontent by acting out. “Inferiority complex,” a much abused term, is Alderman. Freud did not regret losing Alder, but Jung was something else. Freud was aware that most of his acolytes were Jews, and he did not want to turn psychoanalysis into a “Jewish science.” Jung, a Swiss from a pious Protestant background, struck Freud as his logical successor, his “crown prince. The two men were close for several years, but Jung’s ambition, and his growing commitment to religion and mysticism-most unwelcome to Freud, an aggressive atheist-finally drove them apart.

Freud was intent not merely on originating a sweeping theory of mental functioning and malfunctioning. He also wanted to develop the rules of psychoanalytic therapy and expand his picture of human nature to encompass not just the couch but the whole culture. As to the first, he created the largely silent listener who encourages the analysand to say whatever comes to mind, no matter how foolish, repetitive, or outrageous, and who intervenes occasionally to interpret what the patient on the couch is struggling to say. While some adventurous early psychoanalysts thought they could quantify just what proportion of their analysands went away cured, improved, or untouched by analytic therapy, such confident enumerations have more recently shown themselves untenable. The efficacy of analysis remains a matter of controversy, though the possibility of mixing psychoanalysis and drug therapy is gaining support.

Freud’s ventures into culture-history, anthropology, literature, art, sociology, the study of religion – have proved little less controversial, though they retain their fascination and plausibility and continue to enjoy a widespread reputation. As a loyal follower of nineteenth- century positivists, Freud drew a sharp distinction between religious faith (which is not checkable or correctable) and scientific inquiry (which is both). For himself, this meant the denial of truth-value to any religion whatever, including Judaism. As for politics, he left little doubt and said so plainly in his late-and still best known-essay, Civilization and Its Discontents (1930), noting that the human animal, with its insatiable needs, must always remain an enemy to organized society, which exists largely to tamp down sexual and aggressive desires. At best, civilized living is a compromise between wishes and repression-not a comfortable doctrine. It ensures that Freud, taken straight, will never become truly popular, even if today we all speak Freud.

In mid-March 1938, when Freud was eighty-one, the Nazis took over Austria, and after some reluctance, he emigrated to England with his wife and his favorite daughter and colleague, Anna, “to die in freedom.” He got his wish, dying not long after the Nazis unleashed World War II by invading Poland. Listening to an idealistic broadcaster proclaiming this to be the last war, Freud, his stoical humor intact, commented wryly, “My last war”.