The Search for Bridey Murphy (4 page)

I found out that anybody can learn to hypnotize; there are no mysterious forces involved. Just as anyone can learn to dance—and to become a very proficient dancer if he combines a degree of natural talent with practice and training—so it is with hypnotism. Anyone can learn to induce the trance, but he who conscientiously applies himself to the study of the science and has a gift for the practice, or art, will obviously make the most satisfactory hypnotist.
In both dancing and hypnosis there are many performers; a few are outstanding.

The hypnotist, then, is a guide. And while some guides are far more accomplished than others, the fact remains that no weird, Svengali-like attributes are involved. Everybody can hypnotize someone.

The question of whether a person can be hypnotized against his will really has two answers—a general answer, and its rare exceptions. In general, I find it impossible to put anyone into a trance against his will. If a subject refuses to co-operate or merely decides that he will not be hypnotized, that usually determines the issue right there. However, there are a few cases on record which indicate that certain subjects, despite all efforts to resist, will drift into a trance. The British
Journal of Medical Hypnotism
,
¹
for instance, relates the case of a nurse, an especially good subject, who was purposely instructed to resist the efforts of a doctor to hypnotize her. Nevertheless, within a few minutes—and in spite of general noisemaking, including her own talking and shouting—she gave up to the persistent voice of the doctor, who had continued to talk steadily all through the clamor. Such rare subjects are the exceptions that prove the rule.

And there is another query with a two-pronged answer: Will a hypnotized subject commit a crime or an immoral act? The definite consensus, I learned, is that nobody will do anything under hypnosis that is fundamentally against his or her principles. On the other hand, it might be possible, over a period of time, to engineer the suggestion so that the final result is an act contrary to the basic principles of the subject. Thus again we have a “No” in general and a very rare “Yes.” A wife, for instance, would not react to the hypnotic suggestion that she poison her husband. She might even awaken the moment the suggestion was made. But the same wife, repeatedly told under hypnosis that her husband was slowly poisoning her children, might conceivably be convinced that the only way to save her children would be to poison her husband.

However, this whole question is purely academic. Obviously no serious operator would even be concerned with the matter. As psychologist Leslie Le Cron wrote, “There is about as much danger
for one to become involved in hypnotically inspired antisocial actions as there is to being struck by a flying saucer.”
²

An example is provided by one of my good subjects, then twenty-one years old, with whom I was working on an age regression. When he had been regressed to the age of eight, I asked for the name of the person who sat behind him in school; he promptly replied with a boy’s name. Then I asked, quite innocently, whether he liked this boy. “No!” he said emphatically.

“Why don’t you like him?” I asked.

Bang! That simple question was apparently loaded! He awakened with a start. Ordinarily, when this lad is in a hypnotic trance, a bugle blast in his ear would not stir him. But this naïve question somehow agitated him immediately; he jumped to his feet.

I reviewed the session for him, explaining that he had suddenly burst out of the trance when I asked why he didn’t like the boy—and I used the name he had given me—who sat behind him in the third grade.

“Oh,” he said, “I can understand that!” And that was all. Tact required that I press the question no further.

Why he avoided answering this question under hypnosis I’ll never know. But here was another affirmation that a subject will not ordinarily even discuss a matter which goes against his principles. After all, most subjects know what is taking place throughout the trance, and they can exercise a degree of judgment and censorship at all times.

Now to the big bugaboo: Is hypnotism dangerous? More nonsense has probably been written on this matter than any other. The truth is, and I believe all authorities will agree, that hypnosis in itself is entirely harmless. No bad effects, mental or physical, have ever been incurred by anyone as a result of his merely being hypnotized.

Like any good tool, it might conceivably be detrimental in the wrong hands; every effective instrument may be misused. Electricity is our most dynamic servant; uncontrolled, it results in death and destruction. Water keeps us alive, but we can also drown in it. As Shakespeare put it, nothing is good or bad, but thinking makes it so.
³

It is also important to note that the trance state in no way weakens the mind or the body; the subject, furthermore, will not remain under the influence of, or dependent upon, the hypnotist. In no sense is the possibility of addiction involved. In this connection another personal experience is in order.

I had just finished my second session with a case which I had undertaken at a doctor’s request. The subject’s husband, who had been a witness at all times, drew me aside. I presumed that he wanted to thank me because his wife was showing very marked improvement.

His first words, therefore, threw me completely off balance: “The hypnotism must stop!”

As soon as I caught my breath I asked, bewildered, “But why? Your wife is making remarkable progress!”

“Yes, so I see. But what good is it when she will have to go right on seeing you for the rest of her life?”

I slumped into a chair. When I recovered from the surprise blow I asked him where he had picked up that idea. He admitted that his authority was an elderly woman who, having read stories on the subject, warned him that his wife would now be subject to a lifelong addiction!

So I started from scratch, outlining for him the history of hypnosis, debunking the nonsense, and reviewing modern accomplishments. Then I gave him some books and medical journals to look over.

While this fellow had been a victim of misinformation, he was far from a fool. He diligently read all the literature I had given him and then visited the library to dig out more. And he didn’t stop there. He personally interviewed two persons who had considerable experience as hypnotic subjects, quizzing them in detail particularly about the matter of addiction, will power, and general aftereffects.

When he was fully satisfied he returned to me, apologized profusely, and urged that I continue the work with his wife. He is now one of hypnotherapy’s most enthusiastic advocates.
⁴

When I encountered the question as to whether just anyone can be hypnotized I ran smack into a major drawback of hypnosis. The answer as of today is an emphatic “No.” Having just admitted
that the hypnotist possesses no supernatural abilities, let me now go a step farther and acknowledge that it is the subject, and his reaction to the operator, that is the most important single factor in the business of hypnosis.

At this point then let us consider the subject himself. What qualities or personality characteristics combine to make a good hypnotic subject? First it must be admitted that this is a question which has never been adequately answered, for it is, after all, necessarily related to the fundamental problem: “What is a trance?” Even so, experience has contributed a certain amount of pertinent data, and at least some facts have emerged. It seems clear, for instance, that ordinary normal, healthy people are the best subjects. Intelligence and concentration, moreover, are decidedly favorable factors. The higher the intelligence and the steadier the concentration, the better a subject is likely to be.

But there is something more than this. And defining that “certain something” is a job calling for intensive scientific research. Some subjects simply have it; others do not. “It” is the inexplicable something which, with the guidance of the hypnotist, enables the subject to pass into the trance state. True, a good operator can accelerate the process of induction, or he might be successful with certain refractory subjects with whom less skillful hypnotists have failed. Nevertheless, there are still some people who just won’t be hypnotized.

Since I happen to be one of these people—for what reason I do not know—I offer a personal report on this matter. Few will understand the lengths to which I have gone in an effort to become a good hypnotic subject. I have submitted myself to some of the finest and best-known hypnotists in the United States. Failing there, I have tried successively an electric shock treatment, a carbon dioxide treatment, narcosynthesis (hypnosis under drugs), and finally an equalizing pressure chamber which actually permits the cessation of breathing. I’m still a complete failure as a subject.

Why all the fuss to become a good hypnotic subject myself? For two reasons. First a serious obstacle to the progress of hypnosis, as we have seen, is its apparent inapplicability to all people. If, therefore, a process could be developed which would enable anyone to enter readily into the trance state, then hypnosis will have taken a tremendous forward stride. Consequently I have in
cessantly sought some universal key which could be utilized by everyone.

Second, having seen the mind control demonstrated by good subjects, even when they had been self-hypnotized, I was eager to attain the same ability. A good subject can sharpen his concentration, wondrously accelerate his mental activities, transcend his normal mental capacity, anesthetize any portion of his body, control pain, relax completely under almost any circumstance. In short, he can become master of his mind. Is this not, then, a goal worth seeking?

That is where electric shock and other treatments came in. I had an idea that if I could smooth out some of the kinks in my nervous system I could then relax and be hypnotized. Consequently I started my search for the universal key. To a friend, a psychiatrist, I pointed out the possibility that if shock treatment could convert a psychoneurotic to normality the same treatment given to a supposedly normal person might eliminate some of his nervous habit patterns—might, in other words, calm him down, make him more easygoing.

The doctor agreed that this was a possibility; he laughingly proposed that I find out for myself. I startled him by immediately agreeing to do just that.

I am sure that the doctor had doubts as to whether I was serious about this shock business until one afternoon when I showed up at his hospital and reminded him of his offer. For a time he attempted to discourage the plan, pointing out that shock treatment was not exactly comparable to sticking your finger in a light socket. Besides, he admitted, this idea of somebody’s just walking in and asking for a shock treatment wasn’t in the book.

Finally, however, curiosity overtook him too. After some preliminaries, including a careful physical examination, he led me down the corridor and into the electric therapy room. I was surprised to learn that the contraption which is responsible for the whole show is not much bigger than a cigar box and quite simple. I have operated more complicated electrical apparatus myself.

I had read and heard a great deal about these treatments, and none of it, except the results, was pleasant. I knew, for instance, that the patient must remove his shoes, otherwise his violent thrashing might cause some damage. Likewise, he must wear a mouth
piece similar to that used by boxers to prevent the teeth from being rattled out of his head.

I knew, too, that the patient is instantly knocked unconscious, after which he sucks in air with a desperate reflex action. The body goes completely rigid, followed by hideous convulsions somewhat similar to those of an ordinary epileptic fit. During this time the patient must be held down by attendants to prevent injury from the violence of the contractions. Even so, there are records of fractured spines, jaws, arms, and hips.

Well, I would soon have firsthand knowledge of the whole thing—the first jolt, whether there is any memory of the convulsions, and the sensations afterward.

The doctor called in four attendants, two male and two female. I looked them over carefully, wondering whether they would be stout enough to hold me down when my limbs started to flap all over the place. I noticed that they regarded me with complete indifference; this was just another distasteful, routine job to them. I only hoped that they would not continue to ignore me once the electricity went on, I was asked to he on a flat, narrow table; then the doctor placed a pillow, not under my head but under the small of my back. He asked an attendant to remove my shoes, and then he smeared some paste over my temples to insure the electrical contact, after which he strapped a belt-like gadget around my head. This, I knew, held the electrodes against the temples.

The rubber mouthpiece was jammed into place. I braced myself and waited for the impact of the first jolt.

B
UT IT NEVER CAME
. The next thing I recall was looking at two attendants, who were still just as bored and disinterested as regulations permit. I looked at the woman, then at the man. I’m not sure that I knew, at that first moment, who I was. I still wish that someone had quizzed me at that point so that there could have been a check on just how much of my memory had temporarily lapsed.

Again I looked at the woman, then at the man. By now they were the only two left in the room besides myself. The doctor had just left. They watched me get off the table; as soon as they saw me in action they walked out too. But the woman turned at the door as though she had forgotten something and shouted back, “Do you know where you are?”

Since I was aware of the table and the shock apparatus and the general hospital accouterments, I somehow managed a stumbling bit of deduction: “Yeah, I’m taking a shock treatment.”

Even though she wore the same cold expression, that answer must have satisfied her; she wheeled around and went down the corridor, leaving me all alone. Believe me, I was confused. I knew who I was as soon as I had answered her question concerning where I was. But that was just about the sum total of my knowledge.