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VI. Psychological disintegration
The phenomenon which occurs in our consciousness as a result of an
impression made on our senses and which results in these expressions:
“I see a light... I feel a sting”, is a phenomenon already very
complex: it does not it is not only made up of simple raw sensation,
visual or tactile; but it still contains an operation of active
synthesis and present at each moment which links this sensation to the
group of images and previous judgments constituting the ego or the
personality. The apparently simple fact which translates into these
words: “I see, I feel”, even without speaking of ideas of exteriority,
distance, location, is already a complex perception. We have already
insisted on this idea when studying automatic acts during catalepsy; we
have adopted the opinion of Maine de Biran, who distinguished in the
human mind a purely affective life from sensations alone, phenomena
conscious but not attributed to a personality, and a perceptual life
from sensations united, systematized and attached to a personality.
Fig. 4.
We
can, while attaching to these representations only a purely symbolic
value, to imagine our conscious perception as a two-step operation: 1st
the simultaneous existence of a certain number of tactile conscious
sensations, such as TT’T”, muscular like MM’M”, visual like VV’V”,
auditory like AA’A”. These sensations exist simultaneously and
in isolation from each other, like a quantity of small lights which
would light up in all the corners of a dark room. These primitive
conscious phenomena, prior to perception, can be of different kinds,
sensations, memories, images, and can have different origins: some can
come from a current impression made on the senses, others be brought
about by the automatic play of association as a result of other
phenomena. But, in order not to complicate a problem which is already
quite complex, let us first consider, in this chapter, only the
simplest case and suppose main holding that all these elementary
phenomena are simple sensations produced by an external modification of
the sense organs.
2nd An active and actual operation of synthesis by which these
sensations are linked to each other, aggregate, merge, merge into a
single state to which a main sensation gives its nuance, but which
probably does not resemble completely none of the constituent elements;
this new phenomenon is perception P. As this perception occurs at every
moment, following each new group, as it contains memories as well as
sensations, it forms the idea that we have of our personality and
henceforth we can say that someone smells the TT’T” images MM’M”, etc.
This activity, which thus synthesizes the various psychological
phenomena at each moment of life and which forms our personal
perception, should not be confused with the automatic association of
ideas. This, as we have already said, is not a
current
activity, it is
the result of an old activity which formerly synthesized some phenomena
into a single emotion or perception and which left them with a tendency
to occur again in the same order. The perception we are talking about
now is the synthesis at the moment when it is formed, at the moment
when it brings together
new phenomena in a unit at each
new
moment.
We don’t have to explain how these things happen; we have only to
ascertain that they happen thus or, if one prefers, to suppose so and
to explain that this hypothesis allows to understand the preceding
characteristics of hysterical anesthesias.
Fig. 5.
In a theoretical man, such as there probably does not exist, all the
sensations included in the first operation T T’ T”, etc., would be
united in the perception P, and this man could say: “I feel”, with
regard to all the phenomena which take place in him It is never so, and
in the best constituted man there must be a host of sensations produced
by the first operation and which escape the second. I am not speaking
only of the sensations which escape voluntary attention and which are
not understood “in the clearest point of gaze”; I am speaking of
sensations which are absolutely unrelated to the personality and which
the ego does not recognize, not to be conscious, because, in fact, it
does not contain them. To represent this, let us suppose that the first
operation remaining the same, the second only is modified. The power of
synthesis can no longer be exerted, at each moment of life, that on a
given number of phenomena, on 5 p ar example and not on 12. Of the
twelve supposed sensations TT’T” MM’M”, etc., the ego will only have
the perception of five, of TT’MVA for example. Regarding these five
sensations, he will say: “I felt them, I was aware of them”; but if we
talk to him about the other phenomena of T’V’A’, etc., which, in our
hypothesis, were also conscious sensations, he will answer “that he
does not know what we are talking about and that he does not has known
nothing of all this”. Now, we have carefully studied a particular
condition of hysterics and neuropaths in general which we have called
the narrowing of the field of consciousness. This characteristic is
precisely produced, in our hypothesis, by this weakness of psychic
synthesis pushed further than usual, which does not allow them to unite
in the same personal perception a large number of the sensitive
phenomena which really take place in them..
The things being thus, the sensitive phenomena which occur in the mind
of these individuals are divided naturally into two groups: 1st the
group TT’MVA which is united in the perception P and which forms their
personal consciousness; 2nd the remaining sensory phenomena
T’M’M”V’V”A’A”, which are not synthesized in the perception P. For the
moment we are only concerned with the first group.
In most cases, the phenomena which fall into the first group, that of
personal perception, while being limited in number, may however vary
and do not always remain the same. The operation of synthesis seems to
be able to choose and relate to the ego, consequently to the personal
consciousness, sometimes some, sometimes others, the sensations of the
tactile sense as well as those of the visual sense; at one point, the
perceived group will be TT’MVA, at another, it will be MM’V’AA’.
Fig. 6.
When things happen in this way, there are indeed at each moment
phenomena that are ignored and which remain unperceived, such as M ‘at
the first moment, or V at the second; but, on the one hand, these
unknown phenomena are not perpetually unconscious, they are only
momentarily, and, on the other hand, these phenomena, which are
unconscious, do not always belong to the same meaning; they are
sometimes muscular sensations, sometimes visual sensations. This
description seems to me to correspond to what we have observed in a
particular form of narrowing of the field of consciousness by
distraction, by electivity or systematized aesthesia, in a word, in all
anesthesias with variable limits. The distracted hysterical subject who
hears only one person and does not hear the others, because he cannot
perceive so many things at the same time and that, if he synthesizes
the auditory and visual sensations which come to him from a person, he
can do nothing more, the hynoptic who hears everything his magnetizer
says and knows everything he does, without being able to hear or smell
any other person, the natural sleepwalker who sees his lamp and smells
his own movements, but not noticing the other visual sensations forming
in his mind, are striking examples of this first form of weakened and
restricted synthesis. In these people, in fact, no sensation is
perpetually unconscious, it is so only momentarily; if the subject
turns towards you, he will hear what you say to him; if I put you in
touch with the hypnotized he will speak to you; if the sleepwalker
dreams of you, she will see you. In addition, the disappeared
sensations do not always belong to the same sense and, if the subject
is questioned by a person successively on each of his senses, he will
prove to him that he smells very well everywhere and does not
apparently have any real anesthesia.
It is to this type, at least I am inclined to believe it, that
hysterics without anesthesia must be attached. They are very rare; Mr.
Pitres says he met two of them, but I have not had the opportunity to
see any. These hysterics must still have the essential characteristic
of
their illness, the narrowing of the field of consciousness, the
diminution of the power of perceptual synthesis; but they have retained
the power of successively exercising this faculty over all sensitive
phenomena whatever they may be.
For what reason do they perceive at a time such a group of sensations
rather than another? There is no voluntary choice here as in attention,
because, for such a choice to be possible, there must first have been a
general perception of all sensitive phenomena, then a reasoned
elimination. The electivity is only apparent here, it is due to the
automatic development of such or such a sensation which is repeated
more frequently, which associates more easily with such or such
another. When a hysteric looks at a person, she will rather hear the
words of that person than the words of another, because the sight of
the speaking mouth, of the gestures, of the attitude, is associated
with the words spoken by that person, and not with the words spoken by
others. A sleepwalker who does her housework will more easily see her
falling lamp than she will see a stranger in the room, because the
sight of the lamp combines with the sight of other household objects
and fills this small field of consciousness, without leaving room for
the image of the foreigner. In other cases, a feeling remains dominant
and brings those related to it, because it dominated in a moment of
still greater shrinkage of the field of consciousness reduced almost to
unity. At the start of hypnotism, the semi-cataleptic subject can
perceive only one sensation; that of the magnetizer is essential,
because he is present, he touches the hands, he speaks to the ear, etc.
The field of consciousness widens a little; but it is always the
thought of the magnetizer which retains its supremacy and which directs
the associations towards this or that other sensation. In all these
cases, systematized aesthesia is a form of this automatism which brings
together in the same perception the sensations having between them some
affinity, some unity. The current activity, by a kind of laziness, does
little more than continue or repeat the syntheses already made in the
past.
Fig. 7.
But things can turn out quite differently. The weak power of synthesis
can often be exerted in the same direction, unite in the perception of
sensations always of the same species and lose the habit of bringing
together the others. The subject makes more use of visual images and
rarely addresses the images of touch; if its power of synthesis
decreases, if it can only bring together three images, it will
completely renounce perceiving the sensations of such or such a
species. At the beginning, they lose them momentarily, and he can find
them again; but soon the perceptions which allowed him to know these
images not being made, he can no longer, even if he tries it, relate to
the synthesis of the personality the sensations which he has let
escape. He thus gives up, without realizing it, sometimes the
sensations which come from a part of the cutaneous surface, sometimes
the sensations of an entire side of the body, sometimes the sensations
of an eye or an ear. It is still the same psychic weakness, but this
time it results in a much clearer and more material symptom, in a
permanent anesthesia with a fixed limit of the arm, the eye or the ear.
The subject you are questioning can only tell you what he perceives and
cannot talk to you about the sensations that are happening in him
without knowing it, since he never perceives them again.
Why does the anesthesia localize in certain ways? We suspect it in some
cases, we hardly guess it in others. Hysterics are more likely to lose
tactile sensitivity, because it is the least important, not
psychologically, but practically. At the beginning of life, the tactile
sense is used to acquire almost all notions; but later, thanks to
acquired perceptions, the other senses almost always replace it. These
people tend to lose sensitivity on the left side rather than on the
right side, probably because they use that side less often. I thought I
noticed that there are parts of the body, fingertips, lips, etc., to
which they retain sensitivity longer than others, probably because the
sensations they provide are particularly useful or pleasant. A
hysterical woman I observed had lost sensitivity to her limbs, but
retained sensitive bands in all her joints: this may have favored her
movements. But if we consider the scattered islets of anesthesia that
some subjects have on the skin, we do not know enough about the
variations in local sensations, their similarities and their
differences to understand the reasons for these bizarre distributions.
The sensations provided by these anesthetic parts still exist, and it
only takes the least of things for the perception which has lost the
habit of grasping them to hang up once, if I can put it that way. Force
them to think of a visual image usually linked to a tactile image, tell
Marie that a caterpillar is walking on her arm and the whole arm
becomes sensitive again; only this cannot last, for the field of
consciousness has remained very small; it has moved, but it has not
grown, and it will be necessary for it to return to the most useful
sensations on this subject which does not have enough psychic strength
to allow itself to luxury perceptions. It is the same for the
sensations of the two eyes which are associated together and complement
each other. However weak their power of perception may be, these
subjects cannot, however, stop at half a word when the neighboring
sensation which is indeed present forms the complete word. The
sensations of the right eye, which are kept in the center of the small
field of perception as useful and indispensable, bring about the
perception of the images provided by the left eye, as soon as there is
some reason for taking them up again, such as the he image of a
caterpillar on the arm brings up the tactile sense of the arm. But that
there is no longer, in the restricted field of perception, an evocative
image, that the right eye is closed, or even that the right eye is
looking at an object arranged so as to be able to be seen in its
entirety, by only one eye, and the sensations supplied by the left eye,
too neglected by perception, are not taken up. If I am on Marie’s right
and if I speak to her, the people approaching from the left are not
seen, although she has both eyes open; if I pass to her left, drawing
her attention, she continues to see me with her left eye. Anesthesia
seemed to have a fixed limit, but, as there is no absolute separation
between these various kinds of anesthesia, it behaves in many cases
like a systematized anesthesia with variable limit. It is the
importance of the dominant perception which causes the sensation to
change and which brings to light, according to the needs, such and such
an image, since none had really disappeared.
Perhaps the metal plates, the currents, the passes act the same. It is
possible, but, without commenting, I would admit that I doubt it. These
processes, which can ultimately lead to the last somnambulism, that is
to say a complete widening of the field of consciousness, seem to me to
directly increase the force of perception. But no matter what, for one
reason or another, the ego now contains the sensations it had lost, it
regains them as they were with the memories recorded in its absence. He
recognizes a drawing that he has not seen, he remembers a movement that
he has not felt, because he has picked up the sensations which had seen
this drawing and felt this movement. Complete anesthesias which embrace
an entire organ therefore differ from systematized anesthesias only in
degree. The same weakness of perception, which causes such a person to
neglect a particular image, causes another to neglect almost entirely
the images furnished by the left eye, except when they are necessary to
supplement those of the right eye, and brings about a third to
permanently neglect, so as to no longer be able to find them, the
sensations of an arm or a leg.
Without doubt, this is only one way of representing things, an attempt
to bring together facts which appear contradictory and consequently
unintelligible. This supposition has obvious advantages from this point
of view. It explains how certain phenomena can both be known by the
subject and not be known by him; how the same eye can see and not see,
because it shows us that there are two different ways of knowing a
phenomenon: impersonal sensation and personal perception, the only one
that the subject can indicate by his conscious language. This
hypothesis further explains to us how impressions made on the same
sense can be subdivided, because it teaches us that it is not always
all the raw sensations of a sense that remain outside personal
perception, but sometimes only a part, while the others can be
recognized. These explanations seem to summarize the facts with some
clarity and that is why we are disposed to consider
systematized or
even general anesthesia as a lesion, a weakening, not of sensation, but
of the faculty of synthesizing sensations in personal perception, which
brings about a real disintegration of psychological phenomena.
VII. Simultaneous psychological existences
Let us refer once again to the symbolic figure which enabled us to
understand anesthesia and now study it from another point of view.
Instead of examining the three or four visual or auditory phenomena
VV”AA’ (fig. 8, below) which are united in the personal perception P
and of which the subject accuses consciousness, let us now consider in
themselves the remaining sensations TT’T”M, etc., which are not
perceived by the subject but which nevertheless exist. What becomes of
them? Most often they play a well-effaced role; their separation, their
isolation makes their weakness. These facts contain a tendency to
movement which would take place if he were alone, but they mutually
destroy each other and above all they are stopped by the stronger group
of other sensations synthesized in the form of personal perception. At
most, they can produce these light tremors of the muscles, those
convulsive tics of the face, that tremulation of the fingers which give
many hysterics a special character, which make it so easy to recognize,
as they say, a nervous woman.
Fig. 8.
But it is easy enough to promote their development, it suffices for
that to remove or reduce the obstacle which stops them. By closing his
eyes, by distracting the subject, we reduce or divert in another
direction the activity of the main personality and we leave the field
free to these subconscious or not perceived phenomena. It suffices then
to evoke one, to raise the arm or to move it, to put an object in the
hands or to pronounce a word, so that these sensations bring about,
according to the ordinary law, the movements which characterize them.
These movements are not known to the subject himself, since they occur
precisely in that part of his person which is anesthetic for him.
Sometimes they take place in limbs whose sensation the subject has
completely and perpetually lost, sometimes in limbs with which the
distracted subject is not concerned at this moment; the result is
always the same. Leonie’s left arm can be made to move without any
other precaution than to hide it with a screen, because it is still
anesthetic; you can move your right arm by diverting your attention
elsewhere, because it is only anesthetic by accident. But, in both
cases, the arm will move without her knowing it. Strictly speaking,
these movements determined by the unconscious sensations are not known
by anyone, because these disaggregated sensations reduced to the state
of mental dust, are not synthesized in any personality. They are indeed
cataleptic acts determined by conscious sensations, but not personal
ones.
If things sometimes happen this way, it is not difficult to see that
they are often more complex. Subconscious acts do not always manifest
simple impersonal sensations; here they are obviously showing us
memory. When the arm of a hysterical anesthetic is raised for the first
time to verify partial catalepsy, it is necessary to hold it in the air
for a while and to specify the position which one wishes to obtain;
after a few tries, all you have to do is lift your arm a little for it
to assume the desired position by itself, as if it had understood half
a word. Has an act of this kind been done in a determined circumstance,
it repeats itself when the same circumstance occurs a second time: I
have shown an example of Leonie’s subconscious acts to M. X..., by
making her left arm do snaps that she does not suspect; a year later,
when Léonie sees this same person again, her left arm is raised and
starts to thumb her nose again. Certain subjects, like Marie, are
satisfied, when one guides their anesthetic hand, to repeat the same
movement indefinitely, to always write the same letter on a piece of
paper; others complete the word they were made to begin; others write
from dictation the word that is pronounced when they are distracted and
do not understand by a kind of systematized anesthesia, and finally
here are some, like N..., Léonie or Lucie, who begin to respond in
writing to the question put to them. This subconscious writing contains
correct reflections, detailed accounts, calculations, etc. Things have
changed in nature, they are no longer cataleptic acts determined by
simple raw sensations, there are perceptions and intelligence. But this
perception is not part of the normal life of the subject, of the
synthesis which characterizes it and which is represented at P in our
figure, because the subject ignores this conversation held by his hand,
just as he ignored the partial catalepsies. It is absolutely necessary
to suppose that the sensations which have remained outside the normal
perception have in their turn been synthesized in a second perception
P’. This second perception is probably composed, it will be necessary
to verify it, of tactile and muscular T’M’ images which the subject
never uses and which he has definitively abandoned, and of an auditory
sensation A” that the subject can grasp, since, in certain cases, he
can hear me, but that he has momentarily left aside, since he deals
with the words of another person. A second psychological existence has
formed, at the same time as normal psychological existence, and with
those conscious sensations that normal perception had abandoned in too
many of them.
Fig. 9.
What, in fact, is the essential sign of the existence of a perception?
It is the unification of these various phenomena and the notion of the
personality which is expressed by the word: “I or me”. Now this
subconscious writing constantly uses the word “I”, it is the
manifestation of a person, exactly like the subject’s normal speech.
There is not only secondary perception, there is secondary personality,
“secondary self”, as some English authors used to say, when discussing
the experiments on automatic writing that I had published in the past.
No doubt this “secondary self” is very rudimentary at the beginning and
can hardly be compared to the “normal self”, but it will develop in a
very unlikely way.
Having noticed, not without some astonishment I admit, the secondary
intelligence which manifested itself in Lucie’s automatic writing, I
had the following conversation with her one day, while her normal self
was chatting with another person. “Can you hear me, I said to him? –
(She answers in writing) No. -But to answer we must hear. – Yes,
absolutely. – So how do you do it? – I do not know. – Does someone have
to hear me? – Yes. – Who? – Other than Lucie. – Oh well! another
person. Do you want us to give it a name? – No. – Yes, it will be more
convenient. – Well Adrienne [1]. – So, Adrienne, can you hear me? –
Yes.” – No doubt it was I who suggested the name of this character and
thus gave him a kind of individuality, but we saw how much he had
developed spontaneously.
[1] There was a little difficulty about the name of this character, he
changed his name twice. I do not insist on this trivial detail that I
have discussed elsewhere. Revue philosophique, 1886, II, 589.
These denominations of the subconscious character greatly facilitate
the experiences; moreover, automatic writing almost always takes a name
of this kind, without anything having been suggested, as I have
observed in automatic letters written spontaneously by Léonie.
Once baptized, the unconscious character is more determined
and
clearer, he shows his psychological characters better. He shows us
that
he is especially aware of these sensations neglected by the primary or
normal character; it is he who tells me that I am pinching my arm, or
that I am touching the little finger, while Lucie has long lost all
tactile sensation; it is he who sees the objects which the negative
suggestion has removed from Lucie’s consciousness, who notices and
indicates my crosses and my figures on the papers. He uses these
sensations that have been abandoned to him to produce his movements. We
know in fact that the same movement can be performed, at least by an
adult, in different ways, thanks to visual images or kinesthetic
images; for example, Lucie can only write by visual images, she bends
down and ceaselessly follows her pen and paper with her eyes; Adrienne,
who is the second simultaneous personality, writes without looking at
the paper, because she uses the kinesthetic images of writing. Each has
its way of acting, like its way of thinking.
One of the first characteristics that this “secondary self” manifests
and which is visible to the observer is a marked preference for certain
people. Adrienne, who obeys me very well and who willingly chats with
me, does not bother to answer everyone. Let another person examine this
same subject in my absence, as happened, they will not notice either
partial catalepsy, or subconscious acts by distraction, or automatic
writing, and will come and tell me that Lucie is a normal person, very
distracted and very anesthetic.. Here is an observer who has seen only
the first self with its shortcomings and who has not entered into
relations with the second. According to the observations of MM. Binet
and Féré, it is not enough for a hysteric to be anesthetic for her to
present with partial catalepsy. Without a doubt, this phenomenon
requires one more condition than anesthesia, a sort of bringing the
experimenter into contact with the subconscious phenomena. If these
phenomena are very isolated, they are provoked by any experimenter, but
if they are grouped in personality (which happens very frequently in
severely ill hysterics), they manifest preferences and do not obey
everyone.
Not only does the secondary self not obey, but it resists the stranger.
When I lifted and put Lucie’s arm or Léonie’s arm in the cataleptic
position, which presents the same phenomenon, no one can move them. If
you try to move it, the arm seems contracted and resists with all its
strength; if you bend it with effort, it rises as if by elasticity to
its first position. As I touch the arm again, it suddenly becomes light
and obeys every impulse. We must remember this elective characteristic
which
belongs to the subconscious character and which will serve us later to
better define its nature.
This personality usually has little will, she obeys my slightest
orders. We do not have to insist on this already well-known character:
the suggestion is explained in this case, as in the circumstances
previously studied. It is produced here, as always, by the smallness,
the weakness of this personality grafted next to the first and which is
even narrower than it. The only fact to remember, because we already
know it, is that these suggestions are executed (in typical cases, the
only ones that we consider now) [2] without being known by the
subject himself.
[2] See exceptions in the next chapter.
It is a second individual even more suggestible than the first who acts
alongside and without the knowledge of the subject we are studying, but
who acts according to exactly the same laws.
However, just as the most suggestible individuals have shown themselves
capable of resistance and spontaneity, so too the secondary character
is sometimes very rebellious. I had some very funny quarrels with this
character of Adrienne who was so docile at first and who, as she grew
up, became less and less so. He would often reply in a sassy manner and
write “No, no”, instead of doing as I commanded him. He was so angry
with me one day that he refused to answer me altogether; Partial
catalepsy, unconscious acts, automatic writing, everything had
disappeared through Adrienne’s simple bad humor. Can we, like certain
authors, consider these phenomena of catalepsy in the waking state as
purely physiological and muscular phenomena, when we see them suddenly
disappear as a result of anger which is manifested by writing?
automatic? I was then forced to chat with the normal character, with
Lucie, who, quite ignorant of the drama that was going on within
herself, was in a very good mood. When I was able to reconcile myself
with Adrienne, the cataleptic acts began again as before. Such facts
are far from rare and I have observed them on several other subjects.
These resistances of the secondary character prepare us to understand
more easily his spontaneous acts, because I was forced to note that
there were similar ones. Another subject, Léonie, had learned to read
and write fairly well, and I had taken advantage of his new knowledge
to make him write a few words or a few lines unconsciously the night
before; but I had sent her away without suggesting anything further.
She had left Le Havre for over two months when I received the most
unusual letter from her. On the first page was a small letter in a
serious tone: “she was indisposed”, she said, “more in pain one day
than
the next, etc., and she signed with her real name “Woman B...”; but on
the back began another letter of a completely different style and which
I will be allowed to reproduce as a curiosity: “My dear good sir, I
have come to tell you that Léonie, all true, all true, makes me suffer
greatly, she can’t sleep, she hurts me a lot; I am going to demolish
it, it bothers me, I am also sick and very tired. It is from your very
devoted Léontine.” When Leonie returned to Le Havre, I naturally asked
her about this singular missive: she had kept a very exact memory of
the
first letter; she could still tell me the content; she
remembered
having sealed it in the envelope and even the details of the address
which she had hardly written; but she didn’t have the slightest memory
of the
second letter. Besides, I explained this oversight to
myself:
neither the familiarity of the letter, nor the freedom of style, nor
the expressions used, nor above all the signature belonged to Léonie in
her waking state. On the contrary, it all belonged to the unconscious
character who had already manifested himself to me through many other
acts. At first I thought there had been an attack of spontaneous
sleepwalking between the time she finished the first letter and the
time she sealed the envelope. The secondary character of somnambulism
who knew the interest I took in Leonie and the way in which I often
cured her of her nervous accidents, would have appeared for a moment to
call me for her help; the fact was already very strange. But since
then, these subconscious and spontaneous letters have multiplied and I
have been able to better study their production. Fortunately, I was
able to surprise Leonie once, when she was performing this singular
operation. She was near a table and still held the knitting she had
just worked on. The face was very calm, the eyes staring upward with a
little fixedness, but she did not seem in a cataleptic attack; she sang
in a low voice a country round, her right hand wrote quickly and as if
stealthily. I began by taking away his paper without his knowledge and
I spoke to him; she turned around immediately wide awake, but a little
surprised, for in her distracted state she had not heard me come in.
“She had spent”, she said, “the day knitting and she sang because she
thought she was alone.” She had no knowledge of the paper she was
writing. It all happened exactly, as we have seen with the unconscious
acts, inadvertently, with the difference that nothing had been
suggested.
This form of subconscious phenomena is not as easy to study as the
others; being spontaneous, it cannot be subjected to regular
experimentation. Here are just a few remarks that chance allowed me to
make. First of all, the secondary character who writes these letters is
intelligent in his spontaneous manifestations, as in his provoked
manifestations. In what he writes, he shows a great deal of memory: one
letter contained the story of Léonie’s very childhood; he shows common
sense in ordinarily correct remarks. Here is even an example of
unconscious insight, as M. Richet would say. The subconscious person
noticed one day that the conscious person, Leonie, was tearing up the
papers she had written when she left them within reach at the end of
the distraction. What to do to keep them? Taking advantage of Leonie’s
longer distraction, she started her letter over again, then went to
carry it in a photo album. This album, in fact, formerly contained a
photograph of M. Gibert who, by association of ideas, had the property
of putting Leonie in catalepsy. I took the precaution of having this
portrait removed when Leonie was in the house; but the album still
retained a sort of terrifying influence on her. The secondary character
was therefore sure that his letters put in the album would not be
touched by Léonie. All this reasoning was not done in sleepwalking, I
repeat, but in the waking state and subconsciously. Distracted Leonie
sang or dreamed of a few vague thoughts, while her limbs, obeying a
somewhat foreign will, thus took precautions against herself. The
second person thus benefits from all his distractions. Léonie walks
alone in the streets and recklessly abandons herself to her reveries;
when she pays attention to her way, she is quite surprised to find
herself somewhere else in the city.
The other found it
spiritual to
bring him to my door. If we warn her by letter that she can return to
Le Havre, she finds herself there without knowing how; the other, in a
hurry to arrive, made him leave as quickly as possible and without
luggage. Finally, let us add, as a last remark, that these subconscious
and spontaneous acts have yet another feature of resemblance to the
acts provoked; they bring into normal consciousness a particular void,
a systematic anesthesia. Leonie having often come to see me, I thought
she knew my address well; I was astonished, chatting with her one day
while awake, to see that she was completely unaware of him, much more,
that she did not know the neighborhood at all. The second character
having taken all these notions for himself, the first seemed to no
longer manage to possess them.
We cannot terminate this study on the development of the subconscious
personality without recalling a fact already pointed out and on which
consequently we will not dwell. Subconscious acts and latent sensations
may exist during sleepwalking, as during waking, and also develop at
this time in the form of a personality. Sometimes she will present the
same characters as during the day before, as happens with Lucie;
sometimes it will be quite different, as happens with Léonie. These
possible complications should not be forgotten.
We have insisted on these developments of a new psychological
existence, no longer alternating with the normal existence of the
subject, but absolutely simultaneous. Knowledge of this fact is indeed
essential to understand the behavior of neuropaths and that of the
insane. We have only studied, in this chapter, typical cases, so to
speak theoretical, of this duplication, in order to see it in the
simplest circumstances and to be able to recognize it later when the
cases become more complex. This notion, which is important, we believe,
in the study of pathological psychology, does not lack a certain
seriousness from a philosophical point of view either. We have become
accustomed to accepting successive personality variations without too
much difficulty; the memories, the characteristic which form the
personality
could change without altering the idea of the ego which remained one at
all the moments of the existence. It will be necessary, we believe, to
set back still further the true nature of the metaphysical person and
to consider the very idea of personal unity as an appearance which can
undergo modification. Philosophical systems will certainly be
successful in coming to terms with these new facts, for they seek to
express the reality of things, and one expression of truth cannot be in
opposition to another.
VIII. Simultaneous psychological existences compared to successive
psychological existences
By studying, in certain subjects, this second personality which has
revealed itself to us below normal consciousness, we cannot help but
some surprise. We do not know how to explain the rapid and sometimes
sudden development of this second consciousness. If it results, as we
have supposed, from the grouping of images that have remained outside
normal perception, how could this systematization have taken place so
quickly? The second person has a character, preferences, whims,
spontaneous acts: how, in a few moments, has she acquired all this? Our
astonishment will cease if we are to notice that this form of
consciousness and personality does not exist now for the first time. We
have already seen her somewhere and we have no difficulty in
recognizing an old acquaintance: she is quite simply the character of
sleepwalking which manifests itself in this new way during the waking
state.
It is memory which establishes the continuity of psychological life, it
is this which has enabled us to establish the analogy of various
somnambulic states, so it is again this which will bring the
subconscious existence which takes place closer together, during the
day before the subject, of the alternating existence which
characterizes somnambulism. We can show in fact: 1st that the
subconscious phenomena during waking contain the memories acquired
during sleepwalking, and 2nd that we find during sleepwalking the
memory of all these acts and all these subconscious sensations.
1st The first point could already be considered as demonstrated by the
study we have made of post-hypnotic suggestions. The subject sometimes
executes all the suggestion without knowing it, as we saw Lucie do,
but, in other cases, he makes, at least in this way, all the
calculations, all the remarks necessary to correctly execute what was
ordered from him. When the suggestion is attached to a point of
reference, it is the unconscious person who keeps the memory of this
signal: “You told me to do such and such when the hour strikes”, Lucie
writes automatically after waking up from sleepwalking.. It is also she
who recognizes this signal which the normal person does not care about.
“There is a stain on this paper at the top and to the left,” Adrienne
wrote of the portrait experience. It is she who combines the procedures
in these unconscious deceptions so curious that Mr. Bergson had pointed
out [3].
[3] Bergson. La simulation inconsciente. Revue philosophique, 1886, II,
525.
When there is a calculation to be made, it is again this
same character who takes care of it, who counts the noises I make with
my hands, or makes the additions that I have ordered. Lucie’s automatic
writing confirms this at every moment. Mr. Gurney [4] relates
that he had ordered a subject to do an act in ten days and that he
questioned him the next day using the spiritualists’ planchette (this
is a process in my opinion very useless, including the English are
almost always used to trigger automatic writing).
[4] Gurney. Proceed. S. P. R, 1887, 294.
This subject, who
consciously did not remember any suggestion, wrote, without knowing it,
that it was still necessary to wait nine days; the next day he wrote
that he would do the deed in a week. I wanted to repeat the experiment
and I obtained a different result, but just as demonstrative. I suggest
Rose, while sleepwalking, write me a letter in forty-two days, then
wake him up. The next day, without putting her back to sleep, I ask
her, according to the procedure already described for distraction, when
she will write to me. I thought she was going to write, like Mr.
Gurney’s subject “in forty-one days”, but she simply wrote: “October
2”. And, in fact, she was right, it had been a good forty-two days and
the subconscious character had just done the math. The suggestion
became a simple suggestion with an unconscious point of reference
which, moreover, was carried out very correctly.
When it is necessary to suppress the sight of an object to the
conscious character, in the experience of negative hallucination or
systematized anesthesia, it is again our second character who takes
care of it. He takes for himself the sight of this object of which he
retains the memory and, consequently, prevents the primary character
from bringing these sensations together in his ordinary perception.
Here is an example which summarizes all these phenomena. I ordered
Lucie one evening, during the sleepwalking state, to come the next day
at three o’clock to Dr. Powilewicz. She did indeed arrive the next day
around half-past three: but when she spoke to me on entering, she
seemed to experience a singular hallucination; she thought she was at
home, took the cabinet furniture for her own and maintained that she
had not gone out all day. Adrienne, whom I questioned then answered
sensibly in writing that, on my order, she had dressed at three
o’clock, that she had gone out and that she knew very well where she
was. The memory of the suggestion, the recognition of the signal, the
commanded act, the systematic anesthesia, everything depended on the
second character who carried out my orders during the vigil below the
conscious person, as he would have done during sleepwalking himself. In
short, the post-hypnotic suggestions establish a very clear link
between the first somnambulism and the second simultaneous existence.
But the suggestions only form a small part of the memories of
sleepwalking, and the subconscious writing still shows the memory of
all the other incidents. Here’s an easy-to-repeat experiment Mr.
Gurney [5] describes.
[5] Proceed. S. P. R., 1887, 294.
During the sleepwalking state, he chats
with a subject and tells him some story, then he wakes him up
completely. At this moment, the subject has completely lost the memory
of what has just been said to him, but if he puts his hand on “the
planchette” and lets it write apparently at random, we will read the
story on the paper, complete of this story that the subject claims to
ignore and that he cannot tell, even if he is offered a sovereign to do
so. Here are similar facts: For various experiments I had asked N....
while she was sleepwalking, to draw in pencil some small drawings, and
she had sketched a house, a small boat with a sail and a figure in
profile with a long nose. Once awake, she has no memory of it all and
talks about something else entirely; but her hand, which has picked up
the pencil, begins to draw on a paper without her knowing it. N...
finally noticed it and, taking the paper, said to me: “Here, look at
what I have drawn: a house, a boat and a head with a long nose; what
took me to draw this?” I had shown V..., while sleepwalking, a small
dog on her knees and she had caressed it with great joy. When she was
awakened, I noticed that she had a weird movement of her right hand
which seemed to still be stroking something on her knees; she had to be
put back to sleep to get rid of this idea of the little dog, which
persisted in the second consciousness. We had made the mistake of
talking about spiritualism in front of Leonie while she was
sleepwalking. When she woke up, she kept various subconscious
movements, trembling of the hand, as if she wanted to write, and
singular movements of the head and the eyes which seemed to seek
something under the furniture: the second person was still thinking of
spirits. It is unnecessary to cite other examples; it suffices to
recall that with a subject presenting to a high degree automatic
writing, like Lucie, one can continue by this means, during the day
before, all the conversations started during the somnambulism.
We have already observed that, during the sleepwalking itself, the
subject can sometimes rediscover the memory of certain states forgotten
during the vigil and yet distinct from the hypnotic state, the memory
of certain dreams, of some delusions and sometimes of crises.
‘hysteria. So we will not be surprised if the subconscious writing also
contains these memories. While Léonie has forgotten her natural
sleepwalking, her nightmares and her crises, when she is awake, her
automatic handwriting which marks Adrienne will tell us all the
incidents of these kinds of crises. This is a very natural fact which
results too simply from the preceding phenomenon for me to insist on it.
Another consequence of this recollection is that the subconscious
person has completely the characteristic and the paces which
characterize
sleepwalking itself. The subjects, when they write unconsciously, take
the same names that they have already taken in such and such a hypnotic
state: Adrienne, Léontine, Nichette, etc. They show, in acts of this
kind, the same electivity as during somnambulism. If the unconscious
acts, if the partial catalepsy can only be provoked by me on Lucie or
Leonie, it is because, being asleep in a daze, they also obey only me
alone. Finally, the nature of intelligence during somnambulism has the
greatest influence on the nature of the unconscious act. Lem has no
memory during sleepwalking, so cannot perform post-hypnosis suggestions
when due. The unconscious acts of N... are childish, like the very
character of N. 2 or Nichette, but, as she has a great memory, these
unconscious acts can be obtained at any time with great precision. Here
is an observation made by chance on this subject, which is nonetheless
curious. In the first studies that I had made on N.... I had observed a
very great aptitude for suggestions by distraction in the waking state;
I then ceased these experiences and lost sight of this person for
several months. When I saw her again, I wanted to try these same
suggestions without prior sleepwalking, but they did not have the same
result as before. The subject, who was talking to another person, did
not turn around when I commanded him something and seemed not to hear
me: there was therefore the systematic anesthesia necessary for the
subconscious act, but this act was not not executed. I then had to put
the subject to sleep, but even in somnambulism, N’s demeanor remained
so unique that I no longer recognized the characters studied some time
before. The subject heard me badly or did not understand what I was
saying to him: “What is the matter with you today? I tell him at the
end. – I can’t hear you, I’m too far away. – And where are you? – I am
in Algiers on a large square, I must be made to come back.” The return
was not difficult: we know these journeys of sleepwalkers by
hallucination. When she arrived, she heaved a sigh of relief,
straightened up and began to speak as before. “Will you explain to me
now, I said, what you were doing in Algiers? – It’s not my fault; it is
M. X... who sent me there a month ago; he forgot to bring me back, he
left me there... Earlier you wanted to order me, make me raise my arm
(that was the suggestion I had tried to make the day before), I was too
far away, I couldn’t obey”. Checking this out, this singular story was
true: another person had put this subject to sleep in the interval
between my two studies, had caused various hallucinations, among others
that of a trip to Algiers; not attaching sufficient importance to these
phenomena, she had awakened the subject without removing the
hallucination. N.... the awake person, had remained apparently normal;
but the subconscious personage who was in her retained more or less
latent the hallucination of being in Algiers. And when, without prior
somnambulism, I wanted to give him commands, he heard but did not
believe he had to obey. The hallucination once removed, everything went
as before. A modification in intelligence during sleepwalking had
therefore brought, even two months later, a corresponding modification
in the subconscious acts, just as the anger of Lucia 2 during
sleepwalking brings after waking up the bad mood manifested by the
automatic writing.
2nd Another consideration, to which we can now pass, brings these two
states closer together, is that the
subconscious acts have a sort
of hypnotizing effect and by themselves contribute to inducing
somnambulism. I had already noticed that two subjects especially,
Lucie and Léonie, frequently fell asleep in spite of myself in the
midst of
experiments on unconscious acts in the waking state; but I had related
this sleep to my presence alone and to their habit of somnambulism. The
following fact brought me back from my mistake. M. Binet had been kind
enough to show me one of the subjects on which he was studying
subconscious acts by anesthesia, and I had asked his permission to
reproduce the suggestions on this subject by distraction. Things
happened quite according to my expectations: the subject (Hab...), wide
awake, was chatting with M. Binet; placed behind him, I unwittingly
made him wave his hand, write a few words, answer my questions by
signs, etc. Suddenly, Hab... ceased speaking to M. Binet and turning to
me, eyes closed, continued correctly, by
conscious speech the
conversation she had started with me by
subconscious signs; on
the other hand, she no longer spoke to M. Binet at all, she no longer
heard
him, in a word, she had fallen into elective somnambulism. The subject
had to be awakened, who naturally had forgotten everything when he woke
up. But Hab... didn’t know me in any way, so it wasn’t my presence that
had put her to sleep; sleep was therefore here the result of the
development of subconscious phenomena which had invaded and then erased
normal consciousness. The fact, moreover, is easily verified. Leonie
stays wide awake with me as long as I don’t provoke phenomena of this
kind; but when these become too numerous and too complicated, she falls
asleep. This rather important remark explains to us a detail which we
had noted, without understanding it, in the execution of the
post-hypnotic suggestions. As long as they are simple. Leonie performs
them without her knowing it, talking about something else; when they
are long and complicated, the subject talks less and less while
performing them, ends up falling asleep and quickly performs them while
sleepwalking. The post-hypnotic suggestion is sometimes performed in a
second sleepwalking, not because the subject has been suggested to go
back to sleep, but because the memory of this suggestion and the
performance itself form a subconscious life so analogous to
sleepwalking that, in some cases, it produces it completely.
The subject is now again in somnambulism: the analogy between the
states we want to compare will show itself in yet another way. All the
authors have noticed that the subject executes
the post-hypnosis
suggestions on awakening without knowing who gave them to him, but
that,
in a new somnambulism, he finds this memory [6].
[6] Gilles de la Tourette. Op. cit., 153.
One might think that the subject only remembers the order received
during a previous sleepwalking and that there is only a memory from one
sleepwalking to another. We can choose suggestions which were executed
unconsciously, but whose execution was characterized by a small
unexpected detail, and we see that the subject, when we put him to
sleep again, has a complete memory of these acts. which have not been
known to normal consciousness. It is useless to cite examples: we only
have to remember the post-hypnotic suggestions of which we have spoken
and whose unconsciousness we noted during the day before. All the
subjects repeat, when I put them to sleep again, what they did to obey
me and the various incidents which characterized the execution of my
commandments.
Everything I just said applies exactly
to spontaneous subconscious
acts, especially those of Leonie.
Sleepwalking in the state of
Leonie
2, she keeps a recollection of it. In the letter I mentioned, there
was an ignored part of the awakened subject and signed with the name of
Leontine. We can now see what this name meant, for this is how she
designates herself during the sleepwalking state. She could tell me in
effect in this state that she had wanted to write to me to tell me of
the disease of
the other and recited to me the terms of the
letter. An excellent proof, moreover, that acts of this kind are indeed
actions of
Leonie 2, is that, as we have said, the subject can fall asleep while
they are being performed: the same acts are then continued during the
sleepwalking without modification. I caught Leonie once, writing a
letter unconsciously in the way I have described and I was able to put
her to sleep without interrupting; Léonie 2 then continues her letter
with much more activity.
It is useless to describe this phenomenon of memory in other subjects,
because it remains absolutely identical; but I will move on to a very
important remark. Some subjects, like N.... have, from the onset of
somnambulism, the memory of all the subconscious acts of the day
before, whatever they are, even those which were obtained by anesthesia
or by distraction. The subject Mr. Gurney often talks about was this
kind. “When he has written a sentence automatically on the clipboard,
he ignores it in the waking state, but, asleep, he almost always
repeats it without error [7].”
[7] Gurney. Proceed. S. P. R., 1887, 296.
It should not be imagined that all
subjects do so, for we would very quickly encounter a number of
exceptions to the law which we point out. Lucie does not find in this
first somnambulism any memory of her subconscious acts, Léonie, Rose or
Marie only find in this same state the memory of a certain number of
acts of this kind.
When this happens, when a subject does not find, once in somnambulism,
the memory of his subconscious acts of the day before, we will notice
that these acts still exist in the same way and that the consciousness
continues to present the same duplication. Partial catalepsy on the
left side, and unconscious acts by distraction still exist in Leonie
during the first somnambulism. Furthermore, these acts seem to remain
associated with those which occurred during the previous day and which
were not remembered. With Lucie, the subconscious character, when he
was writing during the vigil, signed his letters with the name of
Adrienne, he still signs them with the same name during sleepwalking
and continues to show in these letters the same knowledge and the same
memories. During the day before, did I order Leonie an act which was
performed without her knowing it during a distraction; she still
ignores it when she is now sleepwalking. But if, during this very
state, I take advantage of a distraction to order “the same act as
earlier”, without specifying more, this act is very exactly reproduced,
but still unbeknownst to Léonie 2, see you later, by Léonie 1. When I
make speak, either by signs or by automatic writing, this unconscious
which still seems to subsist, it can very exactly recount all the other
unconscious acts which still remain ignored. It therefore seems that,
in this subject, the subconscious acts and the images on which they
depend, below somnambulism, a new synthesis of phenomena, a new psychic
existence, just as the somnambulist life itself existed below waking.
When things are like this, the subject should be put to sleep more,
because the persistence of subconscious acts as well as anesthesia
indicates that there is deeper sleepwalking. We know these varied
somnambulic states which one obtains sometimes by insensible
gradations, sometimes by sudden leaps through lethargic or cataleptic
states.
Each new state of sleepwalking brings with it the memory of
a certain number of these subconscious acts. Léonie 3 is the first
to
remember certain acts and attributes them to herself. “While the other
was talking”, she said of an unconscious act from the day before, “you
said take out her watch, I pulled it out for her, but she wouldn’t look
at the time...” “While she was chatting with M. un tel”, she said about
an unconscious act of sleepwalking, “you told me to make bouquets, I
made two, I did this and that...”, and she repeats all the gestures
that I have described and which had been completely ignored during the
preceding states. Leonie 3 also remembers well the actions which were
performed during the complete catalepsy which, in this subject,
precedes the second somnambulism. It is to this memory that we alluded
at the beginning of this work, to show that the actions carried out in
this state were not absolutely devoid of conscience. Lucie who had
absolutely no recollection of the subconscious acts in the first
somnambulism, nor of the character of Adrienne, takes up these memories
in the most complete way in her second somnambulism. We must not
therefore deny the relationship between successive existences and
simultaneous existences, because the subject does not immediately find,
in his first somnambulism, the memory of certain subconscious acts; it
is often enough to put him to sleep more for his memory to be complete.
These facts are easily understood, moreover, if we reflect on the
conditions already studied for the return of memory. The memory of an
act is linked to the sensitivity which served to accomplish it, it
disappears with it, remains subconscious as long as this is not linked
to normal perception, it reappears when this sensitivity is itself
restored. Let’s take an example: while Léonie is wide awake. I put a
pair of scissors in her left hand, which is anesthetic; the fingers
enter the rings, alternately open and close the scissors. This act
obviously depends on the tactile sensation of the scissors, and it is
unconscious, because this sensation is disaggregated, exists apart and
is not synthesized in Leonie’s normal perception at this time. I put
the subject to sleep and I see that in this new state, he is still
anesthetizing his left arm. It is therefore quite natural that the
memory of the previous act has not reappeared and remains outside
personal consciousness. I put the subject in another state, he has
regained the sensitivity of the left arm and he now remembers the act
he has just done with the scissors. This is a new, but easy to predict,
application of the studies we have made on memory. In this case,
several simultaneous subconscious personalities are formed, just as
several successive somnambulisms have previously been formed.
I will attach to this remark a fairly well-known fact. when a
suggestion has been given to a subject in a particular sleepwalking, it
can only be removed by reducing the subject to exactly the same
sleepwalking. If I gave a command to Leonie 3, I will not remove it by
talking to Leonie 2, or Leonie 1. Why is that? Because my command is
part of a certain group, of a certain system of psychological phenomena
which has its own life apart from the other psychological systems which
exist in the head of this individual. To modify my command, it is
necessary to start by reaching this group of phenomena of which it is
part, because one does not change an order given to MA, by going to
make a speech to MB Sometimes these subconscious psychological systems,
formed apart from personal perception, are in small number, two at
Lucie or Léonie, only one at Marie, three or four at Rose; sometimes
they are, I believe, very numerous. A subject’s sleepwalks are almost
never identical to each other, they change especially when they are
produced by different experimenters. I would thus explain to myself the
misadventures of a somnambulist told by M. Pitres [8].
[8] D’après Gilles de la Tourette. Op. cit., 127.
A bad joke had put her to sleep and suggested to her the desire to kiss
the hospital chaplain, then woke her up and left. The suggestion
abominably
tormented this unfortunate woman, but no one could succeed in taking it
away from her, although she was put into hypnotic sleep. It was because
we couldn’t reproduce the same hypnotic sleep. The group of psychic
phenomena which had received the suggestion always remained outside the
state of consciousness which could be provoked and continued to act in
the direction it had taken. This remark,
which shows us different
subconscious existences like different somnambulisms, is not of
great theoretical importance, but is often very useful in practice.
Fig. 10.
These relations between the subconscious and simultaneous existences on
the one hand, and the various successive sleepwalking on the other
hand, are obviously complicated and perhaps, despite all my efforts,
difficult to understand. So I once tried [9] to represent these
facts by a schematic figure which unfortunately did not seem very
clear, perhaps because I had tried to include too many things.
[9] Les actes inconscients et la mémoire pendant le somnambulisme.
Revue philosophique, 1888, I, 279.
Let us now try to represent the result of these observations in a
different
and, I hope, simpler way. The conscious life of one of these subjects,
Lucie for example, seems to be made up of three parallel currents one
under the other. When the subject is awake, the three currents exist:
the first is the normal consciousness of the subject speaking to us,
the other two are groups of sensations and acts more or less associated
with each other, but absolutely ignored by the person who is speaking
to us. When the subject is asleep in the first somnambulism, the first
current is interrupted and the second emerges, he shows himself in
broad daylight and makes us see the memories he has acquired in his
underground life. If we pass to the second somnambulism, the second
current is interrupted in its turn, to leave alone the third which then
forms the entire conscious life of the individual, in which we no
longer see either anesthesia or subconscious acts. Upon awakening the
upper currents reappear in reverse order. The figure would have to be
complicated to represent other subjects who have more sleepwalking
states, natural somnambulisms, hysterical attacks, etc., but the
general arrangement could, I believe, remain the same.
IX. Relative importance of the various simultaneous existences
A truth must never be exaggerated under penalty of turning into an
error: that subconscious life resembles sleepwalking life, this is
obvious: that it is absolutely identical to sleepwalking and can be
assimilated to it, this is what we cannot admit. Léonie 2, the
somnambulist, talkative, petulant, childish character, cannot exist
complete and as is below Léonie 1, this elderly woman, calm and silent.
This mixture would lead to perpetual delirium. Also, the sleepwalking
character who has the absent sensitivities would still complement the
normal character and leave him with no visible paralysis. Here is a
detail that my brother told me about it. A hysterical woman with
anesthetic legs, Witt.... rests her feet on a ball of hot water and,
feeling nothing, does not notice that the water is too hot and burns
her feet. This subject, however, contained a second personality which
manifested itself perfectly by subconscious signs or in a profound
somnambulism and which then had tactile sensitivity. When questioned,
this second character claimed to have felt the pain in his feet very
well. “Well then why didn’t you pull the legs? – I do not know [10].”
[10] See in this connection the very interesting experiments of M.
Binet, in the article of which I spoke above, on the phenomena of
subconscious pain. Revue philosophique, 1889, I, 143. The author notes,
like me, that these simple pain phenomena produce less movement than
the precise sensations; and he gives a reason that seems very correct
to me, and that is the simplicity and the lack of coordination of these
phenomena. We have already made an allusion to facts of the same kind
in the first chapter of this work, p. 61, discussing Bain’s theories.
It is obvious that the second figure who possesses the tactile
sensitivity of the legs was not to exist during waking in the same way
as he now exists in deep sleepwalking. In short, the second personality
does not always exist in the same way and the relations or the
proportions between the different psychological existences must be very
variable.
To examine these variations, we can start from a first extreme point:
The
state of perfect psychological health. The power of
synthesis being
great enough, all psychological phenomena, whatever their origin, are
united in the same personal perception, and consequently the second
personality does not exist. In such a state, there would be no
distraction, no anesthesia, neither systematic nor general, no
suggestibility and no possibility of producing somnambulism, since one
cannot develop subconscious phenomena which do not exist. The most
normal men are far from always in such a state of moral health, and, as
for our subjects, they very rarely succeed. However, for over eighteen
months, Lucie remained without anesthesia, without suggestibility and
without being able to hypnotize her. Marie is now in a period of this
kind, I do not know for how long. It is a relative state of health.
When this perfect health does not exist,
the power of psychic
synthesis
is weakened and lets escape, apart from personal perception, a more or
less considerable number of psychological phenomena: this is the state
of disintegration. I do not call this the hysterical state,
although
this state exists constantly during hysteria, for I believe that the
state of disintegration is something more general than hysteria and
that it can still exist in many years. ‘other circumstances. It is the
moment of distractions, of systematized anesthesias, of general
anesthesias, of suggestions carried out consciously by the subject. But
the disaggregated phenomena still remain incoherent, so isolated that,
except for a few which still lead to very simple reflexes, they have,
for the most part, no action on the behavior of the individual, they
are as if they did not exist. When Witt... burned her feet, there were
phenomena of pain somewhere in her, but so elementary, isolated and
incoherent that they could at most provoke a few convulsive
contractions here and there, but could not directing an overall,
coordinated movement, such as spreading and moving the legs. It is in
this state that our subjects remain most often, when we do not take
care of them and especially when we have not put them to sleep for a
long time.
The only changes that occur naturally in this state are the various
distributions of anesthesia. So, to take an example, Marie, for several
months, oscillated between three forms of anesthesia. 1st It is most
often left hemi-anesthetic: the body is divided into two parts by a
vertical line passing through the middle. On the right, all general or
special sensitivities are preserved, on the left all the sensations of
all the senses have disappeared. 2nd After having remained fifteen days
or three weeks in this first state, it often passes, without apparent
reason, in a second. It is still semi-anesthetic, but in a different
way: the body is divided into two parts by a horizontal line passing a
little above the breasts, at the level of the shoulders. The whole
lower part is absolutely anesthetic; the entire upper part including
the head and the special senses (excepting for special reasons the left
eye and temple) cover full sensibility. Often it changes again and is
felt for some time all over the body, but in an extremely obtuse
manner; as if the same amount of sensitivity had spread by halving over
a double surface. Other subjects will be able to distribute their
sensitivity in another way, by choosing in each direction, to perceive
them, certain particular impressions and by abandoning the others. We
have seen that electivity and distraction are forms of the narrowing of
the field of consciousness and of psychic disaggregation, like
anesthesia itself. These are some of the variations which a state of
disintegration left to itself will naturally present.
If the person who puts the subjects to sleep approaches them, they
experience a very special emotion which makes them feel a change in
their consciousness. This is because the subconscious and disintegrated
phenomena have grouped together under this excitation, have gained
strength and even robbed normal consciousness of some phenomena of
which it had retained until then the property. The anesthesia
increased: Lucie, who previously heard everyone, can no longer hear me.
“I see your lips moving”, she said, “but I can’t hear what you are
saying.” It is because the subconscious character who formed took my
words for him at that moment. Suggestibility has also increased, but it
is exercised in two ways, sometimes provoking the conscious acts of the
first character, sometimes the acts of the second ignored by the first;
it is the moment of partial catalepsy, of suggestions by distraction
and of automatic writing. This is the state in which the spiritualists
are so happy to see their mediums, in order to evoke the spirits
through the intermediary of the disaggregated phenomena. This state
corresponds fairly well, it seems to me, to that which has already been
described under the name of
somnovigil or
sleepwalking
[11].
[11] Beaunis. Somnambulisme provoqué, 166.
We criticized this name, saying that it was not from the day before.
Obviously, if the word awake is understood to be an absolutely normal
psychological state, the subject is not in a normal awake state. We are
not in the habit, when we are wide awake, to walk or write without
knowing it; but it should not be concluded from this that the subject
is in a state of complete hypnotic sleep. Mr. Beaunis [12] gives
the proof very well: it is that there is continuity of memory between
the normal vigil and the words of the subject in this state he will
remember indefinitely a part of what he did he was therefore at least
partly in the standby state.
[12] Beaunis. Somnambulisme provoqué, 166.
But the other part of his being whose
existence and characters we have abundantly shown and which is now
manifest, is indeed in somnambulism, as is shown by another continuity
of memories which we have just studied. But here again the somnambulic
state is not complete. The second character has a little hearing which
he delighted with the first, he feels the touch and the movements; but
he does not see, at least usually, he does not move very easily and
above all he does not speak or very hardly, all things that he could do
during complete sleepwalking. It is therefore a half-somnambulism like
a half-wake, and M. Ch. Richet had obviously found the right word,
which we will keep to designate this state, when he called it a
hemi-somnambulism
[13].
[13] Ch. Richet. Les mouvements inconscients, dans l’hommage à
Chevreul, 93.
The previous state is a transient and so to speak fragile state which
oscillates between a more perfect wakefulness and a complete
sleepwalking.
Let us excite these systems of subconscious ideas a little more, or
make this unsteady first personality disappear by some sort of fatigue,
and we arrive at true somnambulism. The first personality no longer
exists, but
the second personality is enriched at the expense of
the first; it has now taken, in addition to the phenomena which
were proper to it, those which belonged to the other synthesis; she
sees, she moves, she speaks
as she wants. She remembers her previous humble existence: “It was I
who did this, who felt this” but she does not understand how she could
neither move nor act just now, because she does not realize of the
change that has occurred. After somnambulism, the first personality
reappears and the second diminishes without disappearing entirely. This
persists for a longer or shorter time depending on its strength and the
post-hypnosis suggestions made to it; it gets up from time to time to
accomplish them, then it decreases still further so as to occupy only
the small space left to it by anesthesia during the state of
disintegration which is now reestablished. If the return to health were
complete, it would disappear entirely and there would be a new
restoration of psychic unity which would undoubtedly take place around
another center, but which would be analogous, for the extent of the
field of consciousness, and for independence, to complete sleepwalking.
Let us try, in a new figure a little less schematic than the previous
one, to represent these relative extents of the various personalities,
assuming for simplicity that there are only two.
Fig. 11.
The problem of the relations between the successive secondary
personality during sleepwalking and the simultaneous secondary
personality during waking may be presented in a more precise manner and
take a particular form: we know that, during complete sleepwalking, the
second person has memory, not only from her own actions during previous
sleepwalking, or even from acts she did during hemi-sleepwalking below
primary consciousness, but even from actions consciously performed
during waking by the first person, by “the other”, as the somnambulists
say. Since this somnambulist personality already exists during the
hemi-somnambulism under the consciousness of the day before, is it not
natural that it already has at this moment the knowledge of the acts
performed above it by the ordinary personality? I had been struck by
this reasoning and, in my first articles on this subject, I had
admitted, as a kind of law, that the first personality completely
ignored the second acting below it, but that the latter knew the first
very well; I even used this remark to explain the memory of the day
before during sleepwalking. Mr Gurney, who soon after published studies
on the same problem, still accepted this law, but began to have
reservations [14].
[14] Proceed. S. P. R., 1887, 320.
“In many cases”, he said, “it is not at all obvious
that the second personality has exact knowledge of the first when it
acts above it.” Not only do I now recognize the correctness of Mr.
Gurney’s reserves, but I am prepared to increase them further.
We must not give in to this illusion which leads us to identify the
second personality during sleepwalking with the second subconscious
personality during hemi-somnambulism. It has, in the first state, when
it is complete, knowledge and memories which are due to the
sensitivities which it has recovered; she remembers the actions of the
day before, because she took over the sensibilities of the day before,
in addition to her own. But when she was rudimentary or flawed next to
normal consciousness, she didn’t have those sensitivities and didn’t
have to have full knowledge of what the first character was doing. When
Lucy 1 or Lucy 2, to take an example, exist simultaneously, they
generally act on their own, and they ignore each other. If one knew the
other, if the images of the tactile sense were associated with the
images of the visual sense, a common consciousness for the benefit of
one of the two people would be reconstituted, which does not seem to
take place.
One of the great difficulties of observation, when we want to verify
these things, is that it is not possible to question the second
personality on any fact, without thereby giving him knowledge of it and
without taking away from the primary personality. “The subconscious
character”, said Mr. Gurney [15], “however, hears signals, describes
objects from the outside world about which he is asked to speak.”
[15] Proceed., 1887, 317.
No
doubt, but it is easy to verify that at this moment, the first
personality ignores these signals and no longer sees these objects;
when the normal ego really continues to see something, it is not at all
certain that the abnormal ego also sees it at the same time; we no
longer dare to conclude, like Mr. Gurney, that there is a difference
between the two personalities and that one knows the other without
being known by her: the situation must be the same for both.
We must not forget, moreover, that we are only talking in this chapter
of the simplest cases of disaggregation, the most theoretical in a way.
It is easy to observe a very large number of varieties and
complications in which the two characters can more or less know each
other and react to each other. We now avoid entering into the study of
these complications.
The examination of the schematic figure that we have just studied
suggests to us yet another new reflection which is of interest. We
immediately notice that the representation of the complete somnambulic
state is absolutely identical to that of perfect health, these two
states also being characterized by the reunion of all psychological
phenomena in one and the same consciousness. From a certain point of
view this resemblance should not surprise us and agrees quite well with
previous studies which have shown us the absolute integrity of
sensitivity and will in complete somnambulism, as in perfect health.
But, on the other hand, this resemblance raises a difficulty. Do we not
know, in fact, that, during sleepwalking, memory too is intact and
embraces all periods of life, even the periods of waking, while waking
and the normal state would be characterized by forgetting sleepwalking
states. How, if this difference in the state of memory is real, could
these two states of complete sleepwalking and perfect health be the
same? When two psychological states are absolutely similar, the memory
must be reciprocal.
Well, maybe it really is, maybe the state of perfect health, when it
exists, brings about the full recollection of sleepwalking itself. If
our subjects, after waking up, do not retain the memory of their
sleepwalking, it is because they do not return to perfect health and
that they always retain more or less visible anesthesias and
distractions; if they were radically cured, if they widened their field
of consciousness to embrace definitively in their personal perception,
all the images, they would have to find all the memories which depend
on them and to remember completely even their periods of crisis or
somnambulism. I must say that I have never noticed this return of
memory and that this remark is based on the examination of a schematic
figure and on reasoning more than on experience. Perhaps we could have
seen something like this during the times when Lucie seemed completely
healed; but I was not thinking of this problem then and I did not do
any research on this point. I also believe that they would have had a
negative result, I have never seen these hysterical people find after
their apparent recovery the memory of their second existence. Perhaps
these women who are still young, and in whom slight signs of hysteria
reappear from time to time, never have a sufficiently complete cure for
this phenomenon to be manifest.