¹
[I.e. signature or explanatory paragraph at
the end of a document.]
²
[‘This book was begun on the Eve of
Holy Cross Day in the Year of Our Lord 1850, and was finished on
Easter Saturday in the following year; it was made, with the aid of
the Almighty, by me, Hartman of Krasna, at that time sacrist of
Klosterneuburg.’]
The Psychopathology Of Everyday Life
1198
‘Haupt’s information
proved the source of much embarrassment to me. In the first place,
being an entire novice in the world of scholarship, I was
completely dominated by Haupt’s authority, and for a long
time I read the date given in the subscription lying in front of me
- which was perfectly clearly and correctly printed - as 1350
instead of 1850, just as Haupt had done. I did this even though no
trace of any subscription could be found in the original Manuscript
C, which I used, and though it further transpired that no monk by
the name of Hartman had lived at Klosterneuburg at any time in the
fourteenth century. And when at last the veil fell from before my
eyes I guessed what had happened; and further investigation
confirmed my suspicion. The subscription so often referred to is in
fact to be found
only
in the copy used by Haupt, and is the
work of its copyist, P. Hartman Zeibig, who was born at Krasna in
Moravia, was Master of the Augustinian choir at Klosterneuburg, and
who as sacrist of the monastery made a copy of Manuscript C and
appended his name in the ancient fashion at the end of his copy.
The mediaeval phraseology and the old orthography of the
subscription doubtless played their part in inducing Haupt always
to read 1350 instead of 1850, alongside his
wish
to be able
to tell his readers as much as possible about the work he was
discussing, and therefore also
to date Manuscript C
. (This
was the motive for the parapraxis.)'
(8) In Lichtenberg’s
Witzige und Satirische Einfälle
a remark occurs which
is no doubt derived from a piece of observation and which comprises
virtually the whole theory of misreading: ‘He had read Homer
so much that he always read "
Agamemnon
" instead of
"
angenommen
[supposed]".’
For in a very large number of
cases it is the reader’s preparedness that alters the text
and reads into it something which he is expecting or with which he
is occupied. The only contribution towards a misreading which the
text itself need make is that of affording some sort of resemblance
in the verbal image, which the reader can alter in the sense he
requires. Merely glancing at the text, especially with uncorrected
vision, undoubtedly increases the possibility of such an illusion,
but it is certainly not a necessary precondition for it.
The Psychopathology Of Everyday Life
1199
(9) I have an impression that no
parapraxis was so greatly encouraged by war conditions - which
brought us all such constant and protracted preoccupations - as
this particular one of misreading. I have been able to observe a
large number of instances of it, but unfortunately I have kept
records of only a few of them. One day I picked up a mid-day or
evening paper and saw in large print: ‘
Der Friede von
Görz
[The Peace of Gorizia].’ But no, all it said
was: ‘
Der Feinde vor Görz
[The Enemy before
Gorizia].’ It is easy for someone who has two sons fighting
at this very time in that theatre of operations to make such a
mistake in reading. - Someone else found an ‘old
Brotkarte
[bread card]’ mentioned in a certain
context; when he looked at this more attentively, he had to replace
it by ‘old
Brokate
[brocades]’. It is perhaps
worth mentioning that at a particular house, where this man is
often a welcome guest, it is his habit to make himself agreeable to
the mistress by handing his bread cards over to her. - An engineer,
whose equipment had never stood up for long to the dampness in a
tunnel that was under construction, was astonished to read a
laudatory advertisement of goods made of ‘
Schundleder
[shoddy leather]’. But tradesmen are not usually so candid;
what was being recommended was ‘
Seehundleder
[sealskin]’.
The reader’s profession or
present situation, too, determines the outcome of his misreading. A
philologist, whose most recent, and excellent, works had brought
him into conflict with his professional colleagues, read
‘
Sprachstrategie
[language strategy]’ in mistake
for ‘
Schachstrategie
[chess strategy]’. - A man
who was taking a walk in a strange town just when the action of his
bowels was timed to occur by a course of medical treatment read the
word ‘Closet-House’ on a large sign on the first storey
of a tall shop-building. His satisfaction on seeing it was mixed
with a certain surprise that the obliging establishment should be
in such an unusual place. The next moment, however, his
satisfaction vanished; a more correct reading of the word on the
sign was ‘Corset-House’.
The Psychopathology Of Everyday Life
1200
(10) In a second group of cases
the part which the text contributes to the misreading is a much
larger one. It contains something which rouses the reader’s
defences - some information or imputation distressing to him - and
which is therefore corrected by being misread so as to fit in with
a repudiation or with the fulfilment of a wish. In such cases we
are of course obliged to assume that the text was first correctly
understood and judged by the reader before it underwent correction,
although his consciousness learnt nothing of this first reading.
Example (3) above is of this kind; and I include here a further,
highly topical one given by Eitingon (1915), who was at the
military hospital at Igló at the time.
‘Lieutenant X., who is in
our hospital suffering from a traumatic war neurosis, was one day
reading me a poem by the poet Walter Heymann, who fell in battle at
so early an age. With visible emotion he read the last lines of the
final stanza as follows.
Wo aber steht’s geschrieben, frag’ ich, dass von
allen
Ich übrig bleiben soll, ein andrer für mich
fallen?
Wer immer von euch fällt, der stirbt gewiss für
mich;
Und ich soll übrig bleiben?
warum denn
nicht
?
¹
[But where is it decreed, I ask, that out of all
I should alone be left, my fellow for me fall?
Whoever of you falls, for me that man doth die;
And I - am I alone to live?
Why should not I
?]
‘My surprise caught his
attention, and in some confusion he read the line correctly:
Und ich soll übrig bleiben? warum denn
ich
?
[And I - am I alone to live then? Why should
I
?]
‘I owe to Case X. some
analytic insight into the psychical material of these
"traumatic war neuroses", and in spite of the
circumstances prevailing in a war hospital with a large number of
patients and only a few doctors - circumstances so unfavourable to
our way of working - it was then possible for me to see a little
way beyond the shell explosions which were so highly esteemed as
the "cause" of the illness.
‘In this case, too, were to
be seen the severe tremors which give pronounced cases of these
neuroses a similarity that is so striking at the first glance, as
well as apprehensiveness, tearfulness, and a proneness to fits of
rage, accompanied by convulsive infantile motor manifestations, and
to vomiting ("at the least excitement").
‘The psychogenic nature of
this last symptom in particular - above all in its contribution to
the secondary gain from the illness - must have impressed everyone.
The appearance in the ward of the hospital commandant who from time
to time inspected the convalescent cases, or a remark made by an
acquaintance in the street - "You look in really excellent
form, you’re certainly fit now" - is enough to produce
an immediate attack of vomiting.
‘"Fit . . . go back to
service . . . why should I?"'
¹
From ‘Den Ausziehenden’
[‘To Those who have Gone Forth’] in
Kriegsgedichte
und Feldpostbriefe
[War Poems and Letters from the Front] by
Walter Heymann.
The Psychopathology Of Everyday Life
1201
(11) Dr. Hanns Sachs (1917) has
reported some other cases of ‘war’ misreading:
‘A close acquaintance of
mine had repeatedly declared to me that when his turn came to be
called up he would not make any use of his specialist
qualifications, which were attested by a diploma; he would waive
any claim based on them for being found suitable employment behind
the lines and he would enlist for service at the front. Shortly
before the call-up date in fact arrived, he told me one day in the
curtest way, and without giving any further reason, that he had
submitted the evidence of his specialist training to the proper
authorities and as a result would shortly be assigned to a post in
industry. Next day we happened to meet in a post-office. I was
standing up at a desk and writing; he came in, looked over my
shoulder for a while and then said: "Oh! the word at the top
there’s ‘
Druckbogen
[printer’s
proofs]’ - I’d read it as
‘
Drückeberger
[shirker]’."'
(12) ‘I was sitting in a
tram and reflecting on the fact that many of the friends of my
youth who had always been taken as frail and weakly were now able
to endure the most severe hardships - ones which would quite
certainly be too much for me. While in the middle of this
disagreeable train of thought, I read, only half attentively, a
word in large black letters on a shop-sign that we were passing:
"Iron Constitution". A moment later it struck me that
this word was an inappropriate one to be found on the board of a
business-firm; I turned round hastily and catching another glimpse
of the sign saw that it really read: "Iron
Construction".’ (Sachs, ibid.)
(13) ‘The evening papers
carried a Reuter message, which subsequently proved to be
incorrect, to the effect that Hughes had been elected President of
the United States. This was followed by a short account of the
supposed President’s career, in which I came across the
information that Hughes had completed his studies at
Bonn
University. It struck me as strange that this fact had received no
mention in the newspaper discussions during all the weeks before
the day of the election. On taking a second look I found that all
the text in fact contained was a reference to
Brown
University. The explanation of this gross case, in which the
misreading had called for a fairly violent twist, depended - apart
from my haste in reading the newspaper - chiefly upon my thinking
it desirable that the new President’s sympathy for the
Central European Powers, as the basis for good relations in the
future, should be based on personal motives as well as political
ones.’ (Sachs, ibid.)
The Psychopathology Of Everyday Life
1202
(B)
SLIPS OF THE PEN
(1) On a sheet of paper
containing short daily notes mainly of a business kind I was
surprised to find, among some entries correctly dated
‘September’, the wrongly written date ‘Thursday,
October 20'. It is not difficult to explain this anticipation -
and to explain it as the expression of a wish. A few days before, I
had returned fresh from my holiday travels, and I felt ready for
plenty of professional work; but there were not yet many patients.
On my arrival I had found a letter from a patient to say she was
coming on October 20. When I made an entry for the same day of the
month in September I may well have thought: ‘X. should have
been here already; what a waste of a whole month!’, and with
that thought in mind I brought the date forward a month. In this
case the disturbing thought can scarcely be called an objectionable
one; and for this reason I knew the solution of the slip of the pen
as soon as I had noticed it. - In the autumn of the following year
I made another slip of the pen which was precisely analogous and
had a similar motive. - Ernest Jones has made a study of slips like
these in writing dates; in most cases they could be clearly
recognized as having reasons.
(2) I had received the proofs of
my contribution to the
Jahresbericht für Neurologie und
Psychiatrie
, and I had naturally to revise the names of authors
with particular care, since they are of various nationalities and
therefore usually cause the compositor very great difficulty. I did
in fact find some foreign sounding names which were still in need
of correction; but strangely enough there was one name which the
compositor had corrected by
departing from
my manuscript. He
was perfectly right to do so. What I had in fact written was
‘Buckrhard’, which the compositor guessed should be
‘Burckhard’. I had actually praised the useful treatise
which an obstetrician of that name had written on the influence of
birth upon the origin of children’s palsies, and I was not
aware of having anything to hold against him; but he has the same
name as a writer in Vienna who had annoyed me by an unintelligent
review of my
Interpretation of Dreams
. It is just as if in
writing the name Burckhard, meaning the obstetrician, I had had a
hostile thought about the other Burckhard, the writer;¹ for
distorting names is very often a form of insulting their owners, as
I have mentioned above in discussing slips of the tongue.