CHAPTER II

TABOO AND THE AMBIVALENCE OF EMOTIONS
TABOO is a Polynesian word, the translation of which |
provides difficulties for us because we no longer possess —
the idea which it connotes. Tt was still current with 4
the ancient Romans: their word “ sacer ” was the same —
as the taboo of the Polynesians. The âyoç of the |
Greeks and the Kodaush of the Hebrews must also have 」
signified the same thing which the Polynesians express

„through their word taboo and what many races in
America, Africa (Madagascar), North and Central |
Asia express through analogous designations.

For us the meaning of taboo branches off into two —
opposite directions. On the one hand it means to us
sacred, consecrated: but on the other hand it means,
uncanny, dangerous, forbidden, and unclean. The -
opposite for taboo is designated in Polynesian by the 」
word nog and signifies something ordinary and gener-
ally accessible. Thus something like the concept of
reserve inheres in taboo; taboo expresses itself essen-
tially in prohibitions and restrictions. Our combina-
tion of “ holy dread ” would often express the meaning
of taboo. i

The taboo restrictions are different from religious or i

ве 41 i

ога! prohibitions. They are not traced to a co

moral prohibitions by failing to be included in à system

| which declares abstinences in general to be necessary

and gives reasons for this necessity. The taboo prohi- -

| bitions lack all justification and are of unknown origin.

| Though incomprehensible to us they are taken as a

| matter of course by those who are under their domin-

1 ance.

| Wundt * calls taboo the oldest unwritten code of law
of humanity. It is generally assumed that taboo is

| older than the gods and goes back to the pre-religious

subject of taboo before subjecting it to psychoanalytic
consideration I shall now cite an excerpt from the
. article Taboo in the Encyclopedia Britannica written by ⑥
e anthropologist Northcote W. Thomas
| i oka. taboo includes only ©) hel
. sacred (or unclean) character of persons or things, (b) —

3
As we are in need of an impartial presentation of the i

| and (c) the sanctity (or uncleanliness) which results
from a violation of the prohibition. The converse of |
boo in Polynesia is “noa’ and allied forms which
jean * general” or ‘common’

+ Voelkerpsychologie, IL. Band: Myrhus und Religion, 1906, TI,
08,

p
* Eleventh edition;

is article also gives the most important

4

mysterious RE inherent in a person or |o
communicated or indirect, equally the result of * mana ”
but (a) acquired or (b) imposed by a priest, chief or
other person; 3. intermediate, where both factors are
present, as in the appropriation of a wife to her hus-'
band. The term taboo is also applied to ritual prohibi-
tions of a different nature; but its use in these senses |
better avoided. It might be argued that the term
should be extended to embrace cases in which the sanc-
‏ה‎ of the prohibition is the creation of a god or spirit
ic. to religious interdictions as distinguished fro
magical, but there is neither automatic action nor con-
tagion in such a case, and a better term for it is religious |
interdiction. 1
“The objects of the taboo are many: 1. direct
taboos aim at (a) protection of important persons— |
chiefs, priests, etc.—and things against harm; (b) safe:
guarding of the weak—women, children and common |
people generally—from the powerful mana (magical
influence) of chiefs and priests; (c) providing against
the dangers incurred by handling or coming in contact |
with corpses, by eating certain food, etc.; (d) guarding |
the chief acts of life—births, initiation, marriage and |
sexual functions—against interference; (e) securing _
human beings against the wrath or power of gods and | 4
spirits * ; (f) securing unborn infants and young children ·

1 This application of the taboo can be omitted as not originally |
belonging in this connection. «
43

who stand in a specially sympathetic relation with their —
parents, from the consequence of certain actions, and
more especially from the communication of qualities
supposed to be derived from certain foods. 2. Taboos —
are imposed in order to secure against thieves the pro-
репу of an individual, his fields, tools, etc.”
| Other parts of the article may be summarized as
follows. Originally the punishment for the violation
of a taboo was probably left to an inner, automatic
arrangement. The violated taboo avenged itself.
- Wherever the taboo was related to ideas of gods and
demons an automatic punishment was expected from
the power of the godhcad. In other cases, probably as
a result of a further development of the idea, society
took over the punishment of the offender, whose action
had endangered his companions. Thus man's first
systems of punishment are also connected with taboo.
"The violation of a taboo makes the offender him-
self taboo.” The author goes on to say that certain
dangers resulting from the violation of a taboo may be
exorcised through acts of penance and ceremonies of
| purification.

A peculiar power inherent in persons and ghosts,
which can be transmitted from them to inanimate
| objects, is regarded as the source of the taboo. This
| part of the article reads as follows: “ Persons or things
| which are regarded as taboo may be compared to objects

charged with electricity ; they are the seat of tremendous

power which is transmissible by contact, and may be

liberated with destructive effect if the organisms which
|
4

EST TPE EN

TABOO A
provoke its discharge are too weak to resist it;
result of a violation of a taboo depends partly on the -

strength of the magical influence inherent in the taboo
object or person, partly on the strength of the opposing
mana of the violator of the taboo. Thus, kings and
chiefs are possessed of great power, and it is death
for their subjects to address them directly; but a minis
ter or other person of greater mana than common, can _
approach them unharmed, and can in turn be ap:
proached by their inferiors without risk. . . . So, too,
indirect taboos depend for their strength on the mana |
of him who opposes them; if it is a chief or a priest, |
they are more powerful than those imposed by a com-
mon person.” ③

The fact that a taboo is transmissible has surely given
rise to the effort of removing it through expiatory cere-
monies.

The author states that there are permanent and tem-
porary taboos. The former comprise priests and
chiefs as well as the dead and everything that has
belonged to them. Temporary taboos attach them-
sclves to certain conditions such as menstruation and
child-bed, the status of the warrior before and after the
expedition, the activities of fishing and of the chase, and —
similar activities. A general taboo may also be im-
posed upon a large district like an ecclesiastical inter-
dict, and may then last for years.

If I judge my readers” impressions correctly, I dare
say that after hearing all that was said about taboo they —

are far from knowing what to understand by it and
a 45

A TOTEM AND TABOO

- where to store it in their minds. This is surely due t

| the insufficient information I have given and to the 。
mission of all discussions concerning the relation of

taboo to superstition, to belief in the soul, and to re-

ligion. On the other hand I fear that a more detailed

description of what is known about taboo would be

still more confusing; I can therefore assure the reader

that the state of affairs is really far from clear. We

may say, however, that we deal with a series of restric-
ions which these primitive races impose upon them-

selves; this and that is forbidden without any apparent —
reason; nor does it occur to them to question this

matter, for they subject themselves to these restrictions

| as a matter of course and are convinced that any trans-

gression will be punished automatically in the most |

| severe manner. There are reliable reports that inno-

| cent transgressions of such prohibitions have actually

been punished automatically. For instance, the inno-

cent offender who had caten from a forbidden animal

| became deeply depressed, expected his death and then

| actually died. The prohibitions mostly concern mat-

ters which are capable of enjoyment such as freedom of

| movement and unrestrained intercourse; in some cases

they appear very ingenious, evidently representing

| abstinences and renunciations ; in other cases their con-

— tent is quite incomprehensible, they seem to concern

| themselves with trifles and give the impression of cere-

onials. Something like a theory seems to underlie

all these prohibitions, it seems as if these prohibitions

are necessary because some persons and objects possess

① 46

a dangerous power which is transmitted by cont
with the object so charged, almost like w contagi
The quantity of this dangerous property is also take
into consideration. Some persons or things have moi

of it than others and the danger is precisely in accord-
ance with the charge. The most peculiar part of it is |
that any one who has violated such a prohibition
assumes the nature of the forbidden object as if he had |
absorbed the whole dangerous charge. This power is |
inherent in all persons who are more or less prominent,
such as kings, priests and the newly born, in all excep- |
tional physical states such as menstruation, puberty.
and birth, in everything sinister like illness and death |
and in everything connected with these conditions by |
virtue of contagion or dissemination.

However, the term “taboo “ includes all person:
localities, objects and temporary conditions which are
carriers or sources of this mysterious attribute. The
prohibition derived from this attribute is also desig- |
nated as taboo, and lastly taboo, in the literal sense,
includes everything that is sacred, above the ordinary,
and at the same time dangerous, unclean and mysterious,

Both this word and the system corresponding to it |
express a fragment of psychic life which really is not |
comprehensible to us. And indeed it would seem that |
no understanding of it could be possible without enter- ^
ing into the study of the belief in spirits and demons |
which is so characteristic of these low grades of culture, -

Now why should we take any interest at all in the.
riddle of taboo? Not only, I think, because every |
47

E

TOTEM AND TABOO i

psychological problem is well worth the effort of in-

vestigation for its own sake, but for other reasons as
well. It may be surmised that the taboo of Polynesian
| savages is after all not so remote from us as we were at
| first inclined to believe; the moral and customary pro-
hibitions which we ourselves obey may have some
essential relation to this primitive taboo the explanation
of which may in the end throw light upon the dark
origin of our own " categorical imperative.”

We are therefore inclined to listen with keen expecta-
tions when an investigator like W. Wundt gives his
interpretation of taboo, especially as he promises to go
back to the very roots of the taboo concepts.” *

Wundt states that the idea of taboo “ includes all
customs which express dread of particular objects con-
nected with cultic ideas or of actions having reference
to them.” *

On another occasion he says: “ In accordance with
the general sense of the word we understand by taboo
every prohibition laid down in customs or manners or
in expressly formulated laws, not to touch an object or
to take it for one’s own use, or to make use of certain
proscribed words. . . ." Accordingly there would not
be a single race or stage of culture which had escaped
the injurious effects of taboo.

Wundt then shows why he finds it more practical to
study the nature of taboo in the primitive states of Aus-
tralian savages rather than in the higher culture of the

1 Voelkerpsychologie, Vol. U: Religion und Myths, p 300.

* Le, р. 237.
48

3

3

Polynesian races. In the case of the Australians he 」
divides taboo prohibitions into three classes according |
as they concern animals, persons or other objects. The
animal taboo, which consists essentially of the taboo
against killing and eating, forms the nucleus of Totem-
ism. The taboo of the second class, which has human .,
beings for its object, is of an essentially different nature.
To begin with it is restricted to conditions which bring
about an unusual situation in life for the person
tabooed. Thus young men at the feast of initiation,
women during menstruation and immediately after
delivery, newly born children, the diseased and especi-
ally the dead, are all taboo. The constantly used pro-
perty of any person, such as his clothes, tools and
weapons, is permanently taboo for everybody else. In
Australia the new name which a youth receives at his
initiation into manhood becomes part of his most per-
sonal property, it is taboo and must be kept secret.
The taboos of the third class, which apply to trees,
plants, houses and localities, are more variable and
seem only to follow the rule that anything which for
any reason arouses dread or is mysterious, becomes
subject to taboo.

Wundt himself has to acknowledge that the changes
which taboo undergoes in the richer culture of the
Polynesians and in the Malayan Archipelago are not
very profound. The greater social differentiation of
these races manifests itself in the fact that chiefs,
kings and priests exercise an especially effective taboo

‎Comp., Chapter I.‏ ג
49

TOTEM AND TABOO

and are themselves exposed to the strongest tabo:
compulsion.

But the real sources of taboo lie deeper than in the
interests of the privileged classes: * They begin where
the most primitive and at the same time the most en-
during human impulses have their origin, namely, in
the fear of the effect of demonic powers.” * * The taboo,

which originally was nothing more than the objectified

fear of the demonic power thought to be concealed in
the tabooed object, forbids the irritation of this power
and demands the placation of the demon whenever the

taboo has been knowingly or unknowingly violated." —

The taboo then gradually became an autonomous
power which has detached itself from demonism. It
becomes the compulsion of custom and tradition and
finally of the law. “ But the commandment concealed
behind taboo prohibitions which differ materially ac-
cording to place and time, had originally the meaning:
Beware of the wrath of the demons.”

Wundt therefore teaches that taboo is the expression
and evolution of the belief of primitive races in demonic
powers, and that later taboo has dissociated itself from
this origin and has remained a power simply because it
was one by virtue of a kind of a psychic persistence and
in this manner it became the root of our customs and
laws. As little as one can object to the first part of this
statement I feel, however, that I am only voicing the
impression of many of my readers if I call Wundt's ex-
planation disappointing. Wundrs explanation is far

* Le, p. 307.
50

i ID THE AMBIVALENCE OF
from going back to the sources of taboo concepts or to
their deepest roots. For neither fear nor demons can

be accepted in psychology as finalities defying any |

further deduction. It would be different if demons
really existed; but we know that, like gods, they are
only the product of the psychic powers of man; they
have been created from and out of something.

Wundt also expresses a number of important though
not altogether clear opinions about the double meaning
of taboo. According to him the division between
sacred and unclean does not yet exist in the first primi-
tive stages of taboo. For this reason these conceptions
entirely lack the significance which they could only
acquire later on when they came to be contrasted. The
animal, person or place on which there is a taboo is
demonic, that is, not sacred, and therefore not yet, in
the later sense, unclean. The expression taboo is par-
ticularly suitable for this undifferentiated and inter-
mediate meaning of the demonic, in the sense of some-
thing which may not be touched, since it emphasizes a
characteristic which finally adheres both to what is
sacred and to the unclean, namely, the dread of contact.
But the fact that this important characteristic is per-
manently held in common points to the existence of an
original agreement here between these two spheres which
gave way to a differentiation only as the result of further
conditions through which both finally developed into
opposites.

The belief associated with the original taboo, accord-
ing to which a demonic power concealed in the object
51

|
É

TOTEM AND TABOO

avenges the touching of it or its forbidden use by be-
witching the offender, was still an entirely objectified
fear. This had not yet separated into the two forms
which it assumed at a more developed stage, namely,
awe and aversion.

How did this separation come about? According
to Wundt, this was done through the transference of
taboo prohibitions from the sphere of demons to that
of theistic conceptions. The antithesis of sacred and
unclean coincides with the succession of two mytho-
logical stages the first of which did not entirely disappear
when the second was reached but continued in a state
of greatly lowered esteem which gradually turned into
contempt. It is a general law in mythology that a pre-
ceding stage, just because it has been overcome and
pushed back by a higher stage, maintains itself next to
it in a debased form so that the objects of its veneration
become objects of aversion.!

Wundt's further elucidations refer to the relation of
taboo to lustration and sacrifice.

2

He who approaches the problem of taboo from the
field of psychoanalysis, which is concerned with the
study of the unconscious part of the individual's psychic
life, needs but a moment's reflection to realize that these
phenomena are by no means forcign to him. He
knows people who have individually created such taboo

3 Les p.313,
52

prohibitions for themselves, which they follow as
strictly as savages observe the taboos common to their |
tribe or society. If he were not accustomed to call
these individuals “ compulsion neurotics “ he would
find the term “ taboo disease ” quite appropriate for
their malady. Psychoanalytic investigation has taught
him the clinical etiology and the essential part of the
psychological mechanism of this compulsion disease,
so that he cannot resist applying what he has learnt
there to explain corresponding manifestations in folk
psychology.

There is one warning to which we shall have to give
heed in making this attempt. The similarity between
taboo and compulsion disease may be purely super-
ficial, holding good only for the manifestations of both
without extending into their deeper characteristics.
Nature loves to use identical forms in the most widely
different biological connections, as, for instance, for
coral stems and plants and even for certain crystals or
for the formation of certain chemical precipitates. It
would certainly be both premature and unprofitable to
base conclusions relating to inner relationships upon
the correspondence of merely mechanical conditions.
We shall bear this warning in mind without, however,
giving up our intended comparison on account of the
possibility of such confusions.

The first and most striking correspondence between
the compulsion prohibitions of neurotics and taboo lies
in the fact that the origin of these prohibitions is just as
unmotivated and enigmatic. They have appeared at

53

| TOTEM AND TABOO
some time or other and must now be Em on
account of an unconquerable anxiety. An external
threat of punishment is superfluous, because an inner
certainty (a conscience) exists that violation will be
followed by unbearable disaster. The very most that
compulsion patients can tell us is the vague premonition
that some person of their environment will suffer harm
if they should violate the prohibition. Of what the
harm is to consist is not known, and this inadequate

information is more likely to be obtained during the

later discussions of the expiatory and defensive actions

than when the prohibitions themselves are being dis- |

cussed.

As in the case of taboo, the nucleus of the neurotic
prohibition is the act of touching, whence we derive the
name “ touching phobia “ or délire de toucher. The

prohibition extends not only to direct contact with the |
body but also to the figurative use of the phrase as "to
come into contact ” or “ be in touch with someone or |

something.” Anything that leads the thoughts to what

1

is prohibited and thus calls forth mental contact is just |

as much prohibited as immediate bodily contact; this
same extension is also found in taboo.

Some prohibitions are easily understood from their |
purpose, but othersstrikeus asincomprehensible, foolish -
and senseless. We designate such commands as “ cere- -
monials “ and we find that taboo customs show the |

same variations.

Obsessive prohibitions possess an extraordinary

capacity for displacement; they make use of almost any
54

q

_ form of connection to extend from one object to another

and then in turn make this new object “ impossible,” -
as one of my patients aptly puts it. This impossibility
finally lays an embargo upon the whole world. The
compulsion neurotics act as if the " impossible ” per-
sons and things were the carriers of a dangerous con-
tagion which is ready to displace itself through contact
to all neighbouring things. We have already em-
phasized the same characteristics of contagion and
transference in the description of taboo prohibitions.. —
We also know that any one who has violated a taboo —
by touching something which is taboo becomes taboo
himself, and no one may come into contact with him,

‎shall put side by side two examples of transference‏ ד
‎or, to use a better term, displacement, one from the life‏
‎of the Maori, and the other from my observation of a‏
‎woman suffering from a compulsion neurosis:‏

‎“ For a similar reason a Maori chief would not blow
on a fire with his mouth; for his sacred breath would
communicate its sanctity to the fire, which would pass
it on to the meat in the pot, which would pass it on to
the man who ate the meat which was in the pot, which
stood on the fire, which was breathed on by the chief;
so that the eater, infected by the chief’s breath con-
veyed through these intermediaries, would surely die.” *

‎My patient demanded that a utensil which her hus-
band had purchased and brought home should be re-
moved lest it make the place where she lives impossible.

‎1 Frazer, The Golden Bough, V: Taboo and the Perils of the
Soul, 1911, p. 136.

‎55

É

| TOTEM AND TABOO

For she has heard that this object was bought in a 映 ⑧
which is situated, let us say, in Stag Street. But as the
word * stag “ is the name of a friend now in a distant
city, whom she has known in her youth under her
maiden name and whom she now finds “ impossible,”
that is taboo, the object bought in Vienna is just as
taboo as this friend with whom she does not want to |
come into contact.

Compulsion prohibitions, like taboo prohibitions,
entail the most extraordinary renunciations and restric-

tions of life, but a part of these can be removed by

carrying out certain acts which now also must be done
because they have acquired a compulsive character
(obsessive acts); there is no doubt that these acts are
in the nature of penances, expiations, defence reactions,
and purifications. The most common of these obses-
sive acts is washing with water (washing obsession). A
part of the taboo prohibitions can also be replaced in
this way, that is to say, their violation can be made
good through such a “ceremonial,” and here too
Justration through water is the preferred way.

Let us now summarize the points in which the
correspondence between taboo customs and the symp-
toms of compulsion neurosis are most clearly mani-
fested: 1. In the Jack of motivation of the command-
ments, 2. in their enforcement through an inner need,
3. in their capacity of displacement and in the danger of
contagion from what is prohibited, 4. and in the
causation of ceremonial actions and commandments

which emanate from the forbidden.
56

However, psychoanalysis has made us familiar wit
the clinical history as well as the psychic mechanism of
compulsion neurosis. Thus the history of a typie:
case of touching phobia reads as follows: In the very
beginning, during the early period of childhood, the
person manifested a strong pleasure in touching him.
self, the object of which was much more specialized —
than one would be inclined to suspect. Presently the |
carrying out of this very pleasurable act of touching |
was opposed by a prohibition from without! The
prohibition was accepted because it was supported by
strong inner forces; * it proved to be stronger than the |
impulse which wanted to manifest itself through this .
act of touching. But due to the primitive psychi
constitution of the child this prohibition did not succeed
in abolishing the impulse. Its only success lay in
repressing the impulse (the pleasure of touching) and —
banishing it into the unconscious. Both the prohibi- |
tion and the impulse remained; the impulse because it —
had only been repressed and not abolished, the prohibi-
tion because if it had ceased the impulse would have |
broken through into consciousness and would have |
been carried out. An unsolved situation, a psychic
fixation, had thus been created and now everything else —
emanated from the continued conflict between prohibi- |
tion and impulse. a
The main characteristic of the psychic constellation |

2 Both the pleasure and the prohibition referred to touching |

one’s own genitals.

2 The relation to beloved persons who impose the prohibition. |
57

“which has thus gone under fixation lies in what one
| might call the ambivalent behaviour * of the individual
to the object, or rather to an action regarding it. The
- individual constantly wants to carry out this action
"(the act of touching), he sees in it the highest pleasure,
- but he may not carry it out, and he even abominates it.
The opposition between these two streams cannot be
easily adjusted because—there is no other way to express
| it—they are so localized in the psychic life that they
annot meet. The prohibition becomes fully conscious,
| while the surviving pleasure of touching remains un-
conscious, the person knowing nothing about it. If
this psychological factor did not exist the ambivalence
could neither maintain itself so long nor lead to such
subsequent manifestations.
— In the clinical history of the case we have emphasized
"the appearance of the prohibition in early childhood as
_ the determining factor; but for the further elaboration
of the neurosis this rôle is played by the repression
| which appears at this age. On account of the repres-
ion which has taken place, which is connected with
- forgetting (amnesia), the motivation of the prohibition
that has become conscious remains unknown, and all
attempts to unravel it intellectually must fail, as the
point of attack cannot be found. The prohibition owes
its strength—its compulsive character—to its association
with its unknown counterpart, the hidden and unabated
Jeasure, that is to say, to an inner need into which
conscious insight is lacking. The transferability and
2 To use an excellent term coined by Bleuler.
58

very much facilitated through the psychological det
minants of the unconscious. The pleasure of

the prohibition also wanders and spreads to the new
aims of the proscribed impulse. Every new adva
of the repressed libido is answered by the prohibi
with a new severity. The mutual inhibition of the
two contending forces creates a need for discharge and
for lessening the existing tension, in which we may
recognize the motivation for the compulsive acts. In |
the neurosis there are distinctly acts of compromise
which on the one hand may be regarded as proofs of
remorse and efforts to expiate and similar actions; bi
on the other hand they are at the same time substitutive
actions which recompense the impulse for what
been forbidden. It is a law of neurotic diseases that |
these obsessive acts serve the impulse more and mo:

are already secondary, displaced and distorted, so th
we shall have to be satisfied if we can shed some lig!
59

n the earliest and most important taboo prohibi-

‎situation of the savage and of the neurotic may be‏ סו
‎"important enough to exclude complete correspondence.‏
‎nd prevent a point by point transfer from one to the‏
‎other such as would be possible if we were dealing with‏
‎act copies.‏

‎First of all it must be said that it is useless to question
wages as to the real motivation of their prohibitions
or as to the genesis of taboo. According to our
assumption they must be incapable of telling us any-
thing about it since this motivation is “ unconscious ”
to them. But following the model of the compulsive
prohibition we shall construct the history of taboo as
follows : Taboos are very ancient prohibitions which at
one time were forced upon a generation of primitive
| people from without, that is, they probably were forc-
ly impressed upon them by an earlier generation,
hese prohibitions concerned actions for which there
isted a strong desire. The prohibitions maintained
themselves from generation to generation, perhaps only
as the result of a tradition set up by paternal and social
‘authority. But in later generations they have perhaps
lready become "organized" as a piece of inherited
ychic property. Whether there are such “innate
ideas ” or whether these have brought about the fixa-
tion of the taboo by themselves or by co-operating with
education no one could decide in the particular case in
question. The persistence of taboo teaches, however,
e thing, namely, that the original pleasure to do the
60

‎ns. We must also remember that the differences in |

1
|

taboo prohibitions; in their unconscious they woul
like nothing better than to transgress them, but they are
also afraid to do it; they are afraid just because they
would like to transgress, and the fear is stronger than |
the pleasure. But in every individual of the race the
desire for it is unconscious, just as in the neurotic.
The oldest and most important taboo prohibition:
are the two basic laws of totemism: namely not to kill
the totern animal, and to avoid sexual intercourse with |
totem companions of the other sex. も
Tt would therefore seem that these must have been
the oldest and strongest desires of mankind. We.
cannot understand this and therefore we cannot use
these examples to test our assumptions as long as the |
meaning and the origin of the totemic system are so
wholly unknown to us. But the very wording of the
taboos and the fact that they occur together will remind
any one who knows the results of the psychoanalytic
investigation of individuals of something quite definite
which psychoanalysts call the central point of the
infantile wish life and the nucleus of the later neurosis.
All other varieties of taboo phenomena which have
led to the attempted classifications noted above become
unified if we sum them up in the following sentence:

3

| The basis of taboo is a forbidden action for which there

exists a strong inclination in the unconscious.
We know, without understanding it, that whoever |

1 See Chapter IV: Totemism, etc.
61

⑧ 1 " TOTEM A 。
| does what is prohibited and violates the taboo, becomes —
himself taboo. But how can we connect this fact with
the other, namely that the taboo adheres not only to
persons who have done what is prohibited but also to
persons who are in exceptional circumstances, to these
ircumstances themselves, and to impersonal things ?
What can this dangerous attribute be which always re-
mains the same under all these different conditions ?
‘Only one thing, namely, the propensity to arouse the
| ambivalence of man and to tempt him to violate the
- prohibition.
` An individual who has violated a taboo becomes him-
Self taboo because he has the dangerous property of
4 tempting others to follow his example. He arouses
| envy; why should he be allowed to do what is prohi-
- bited to others? He is therefore really contagious, in
| so far as every example incites to imitation, and there-
fore he himself must be avoided.
Buta person may become permanently or temporarily
taboo without having violated any taboos for the
simple reason that he is in a condition which has the
property of inciting the forbidden desires of others and
of awakening the ambivalent conflict in them. Most
| of the exceptional positions and conditions have this
character and possess this dangerous power. The king
or chieftain rouses envy of his prerogatives; everybody
= would perhaps like to be king. The dead, the newly
born, and women when they are incapacitated, all act as
incitements on account of their peculiar helplessness,
while the individual who has just reached sexual
6

taboo, for one must not yield to the temptations whit

they offer.

Now, too, we understand why the forces inherent in
the “ mana” of various persons can neutralize one
another so that the mana of one individual can partly |
cancel that of the other. The taboo of a king is too —
strong for his subject because the social difference be- |
tween them is too great. But a minister, for example,

| can become the harmless mediator between them. |
Translated from the language of taboo into the lan- |
guage of normal psychology this means: the subject |
who shrinks from the tremendous temptation which |
contact with the king creates for him can brook the |
intercourse of an official, whom he does not have to |
envy so much and whose position perhaps seems |
attainable to him. The minister, on his part, can |
moderate his envy of the king by taking into considera- |
tion the power that has been granted to him. Thus
smaller differences in the magic power that leads to
temptation are less to be feared than exceptionally big
differences.

It is equally clear how the violation of certain taboo
prohibitions becomes a social danger which must be
punished or expiated by all the members of society lest.
it harm them all. This danger really exists if we
substitute the known impulses for the unconscious
desires. It consists in the possibility of imitation asa |
result of which society would soon be dissolved. If |

he others did not punish the violation they would per-
force become aware that they wanted to imitate the evil
doer.

Though the secret meaning of a taboo prohibition

cannot possibly be of so special a nature as in the case
| of a neurosis; we must not be astonished to find that
| touching plays a similar rôle in taboo prohibition as in
- the délire de toucher. To touch is the beginning of
‘every act of possession, of every attempt to make use of
a person or thing.

We have interpreted the power of contagion which
| inheres in the taboo as the property of leading into
- temptation, and of inciting to imitation. This does not

seem to be in accord with the fact that the contagious-

| ness of the taboo is above all manifested in the trans-

- ference to objects which thus themselves become
carriers of the taboo.

This transferability of the taboo reflects what is
| found in the neurosis, namely, the constant tendency of

the unconscious impulse to become displaced through
associative channels upon new objects. Our attention
| ås thus drawn to the fact that the dangerous magic
power of the “ mana ” corresponds to two real facul-
ties, the capacity of reminding man of his forbidden
wishes, and (he apparently more important one of
| tempting him to violate the prohibition in the service
of these wishes. Both functions reunite into one,
however, if we assume it to be in accord with a primitive
psychic life that with the awakening of a memory of a
forbidden action there should also be combined the
* 64

'

TABOO AND THE AMBIVALENCE OF i
awakening of the tendency to carry out the action.
Memory and temptation then again coincide. We
must also admit that if the example of a person who has.
violated a prohibition leads another to the same
action, the disobedience of the prohibition has been
transmitted like a contagion, just as the taboo is trans-
ferred from a person to an object, and from this to |
another.

1f the violation of a taboo can be condoned through
expiation or penance, which means, of course, a
renunciation of a possession or a liberty, we have the
proof that the observance of a taboo regulation was —
itself a renunciation of something really wished for.
The omission of one renunciation is cancelled through a
renunciation at some other point. This would lead us
to conclude that, as far as taboo ceremonials are con- —
cerned, penance is more primitive than purification. 1

Let us now summarize what understanding we have
gained of taboo through its comparison with the com-
pulsive prohibition of the neurotic. Taboo is a very
primitive prohibition imposed from without (by an
authority) and directed against the strongest desires of —
man. The desire to violate it continues in the un- |
conscious; persons who obey the taboo have an ambi-
valent feeling toward what is affected by the taboo.
The magic power attributed to taboo goes back to its
ability to lead man into temptation; it behaves like a
contagion, because the example is contagious. and
because the prohibited desire becomes displaced in the —
unconscious upon something else. The expiation for

6 5

he violation of a taboo through a renunciation proves
that a renunciation is at the basis of the observance of

3

We may ask what we have gained from the compari-
|| son of taboo with compulsion neurosis and what value
can be claimed for the interpretation we have given on
the basis of this comparison ? Our interpretation is
evidently of no value unless it affords an advantage not
to be had in any other way and unless it affords a better
understanding of taboo than was otherwise possible.
We might claim that we have already given proof of its
usefulness in what has been said above; but we shall
have to try to strengthen our proof by continuing the
explanation of taboo prohibitions and customs in
detail.

But we can avail ourselves of another method. We
can shape our investigation so as to ascertain whether
a part of the assumptions which we have transferred
from the neurosis to the taboo, or the conclusions at
which we have thereby arrived can be demonstrated
directly in the phenomena of taboo. We must decide,
however, what we want to look for. The assertions
concerning the genesis of taboo, namely, that it was
derived from a primitive prohibition which was once
imposed from without, cannot, of course, be proved.
We shall therefore seek to confirm those psychological
conditions for taboo with which we have become
66

acquainted in the case of compulsion neurosis. How —
did we gain our knowledge of these psychological —
factors in the case of neurosis? Through the analytical
study of the symptoms, especially the compulsiva
actions, the defence reactions and the obsessive com-
mands. These mechanisms gave every indication of ~
having been derived from ambivalent impulses or
tendencies, they either represented simultaneously the
wish and counter-wish or they served preponderantly
one of the two contrary tendencies. If we should now |
succeed in showing that ambivalence, i.e. the sway of
contrary tendencies, exists also in the case of taboo —
regulations, or if we should find among taboo mechan- |
isms some which, like neurotic obsessions, give simul-
taneous expression to both currents, we would have
established what is practically the most important point
in the psychological correspondence between taboo and
compulsion neurosis.
We have already mentioned that the two fundamental
taboo prohibitions are inaccessible to our analysis

because they belong to totemism another part of the —

taboo rules is of secondary origin and cannot be used
for our purpose. For among these races taboo has
become the general form of law-giving and has helped
to promote social tendencies which are certainly
younger than taboo itself, as for instance, the taboos
imposed by chiefs and priests to insure their property
and privileges. But there still remains a large group

of laws which we may undertake to investigate.
Among these I lay stress on those taboos which are

67

tached (a) to enemies, (b) to chiefs, and (c) to the

. dead; the material for our investigation is taken from

the excellent collection of J. G. Frazer in his great work,
The Golden Bough."

(a) THE TREATMENT OF ENEMIES

Inclined as we may have been to ascribe to savage

and semi-savage races uninhibited and remorseless

- cruelty towards their enemies, it is of great interest to
us to learn that with them, too, the killing of a person
compels the observation of a series of rules which are
associated with taboo customs. These rules are easily
brought under four groups; they demand 1. reconcilia-
tion with the slain enemy, 2. restrictions, 3. acts of

= expiation, and purifications of the manslayer, and ④
certain ceremonial rites. The incomplete reports do
not allow us to decide with certainty how general or

| how isolated such taboo customs may be among these
races, but this is a matter of indifference as far as our
interest in these occurrences is concerned. Still, it
may be assumed that we are dealing with widespread
customs and not with isolated peculiarities.

The reconciliation customs practised on the island of
Timor, after 2 victorious band of warriors has returned
with the severed heads of the vanquished enemy, are
especially significant because the leader of the expedi-
tion is subject to heavy additional restrictions. “ At

3 Third edition, Part II: Taboo and the Perils of the Soul,

1911.
68

the solemn entry of the victors, sacrifices are made to
conciliate the souls of the enemy ; otherwise one would
have to expect harm to come to the victors. A dance

is given and a song is sung in which the slain enemy is |
mourned and his forgiveness is implored: * Be not
angry,” they say, ‘ because your head is here with us; —
had we been less lucky, our heads might have been |
exposed in your village. We have offered the sacrifice —
to appease you. Your spirit may now rest and leave |
us at peace. Why were you our enemy? Would it |
not have been better that we should remain friends ?
Then your blood would not have been spilt and your =
head would not have been cut off? ” 1 CA

Similar customs are found among the Palu in —
Celebes; the Gallas sacrifice to the spirits of their dead |
enemies before they return to their home villages.

Other races have found methods of making friends,
guardians and protectors out of their former enemies
after they are dead. This consists in the tender treat-
ment of the severed heads, of which many wild tribes
of Borneo boast. When the See-Dayaks of Sarawak —
bring home a head from a war expedition, they treat it
for months with the greatest kindness and courtesy and
address it with the most endearing names in their
language. The best morsels from their meals are put
into its mouth, together with titbits and cigars. The
dead enemy is repeatedly entreated to hate his former
friends and to bestow his love upon his new hosts

* Frazer, /.උ., p. 166.

* Paulitschke, Ethnography of North-east Africa.
69

| because he has now become one of them. Tt would bo
- a great mistake to think that any derision is attached to
— this treatment, horrible though it may seem to us."

) Observers have been struck by the mourning for the
- enemy after he is slain and scalped, among several of
the wild tribes of North America. When a Choctaw
had killed an enemy he began a month’s mourning
during which he submitted himself to serious restric-
tions. The Dakota Indians mourned in the same way.
One authority mentions that the Osaga Indians, after
— mourning for their own dead, mourned for their foes as
| if they had been friends.

| Before proceeding to the other classes of taboo
customs for the treatment of enemies, we must define
our position in regard to a pertinent objection. Both
Frazer as well as other authorities may well be quoted
against us to show that the motive for these rules of
réconciliation is quite simple and has nothing to do with
“ambivalence.” These races are dominated by a
superstitious fear of the spirits of the slain, a fear which
was also familiar to classical antiquity, and which the
great British dramatist brought upon the stage in the
hallucinations of Macbeth and Richard the Third.
From this superstition all the reconciliation rules as well
as the restrictions and expiations which we shall dis-
cuss later can be logically deduced; moreover, the
ceremonies included in the fourth group also argue for

1 Frazer, Adonis, Attis, Osiris, p. 248, 1907. According to
Hugh Low, Sarawak (London, 1848).

* J. O. Dorsay .sce Frazer, Taboo, etc., p. 181.

70

this interpretation, since the mg explanation of
which they admit is the effort to drive away the spirits —
of the slain which pursue the manslayers. Besides, the —
savages themselves directly admit their fear for the
spirits of their slain foes and trace back the taboo
customs under discussion to this fear. 5
This objection is certainly pertinent, and if it were
adequate as well we would gladly spare ourselves the |
trouble of our attempt to find a further explanation.

We postpone the consideration of this object until later, —
and for the present merely contrast it to the interpreta- —

tion derived from our previous discussion of taboo.
All these rules of taboo lead us to conclude that other
impulses besides those that are merely hostile find
expression in the behaviour towards enemies. We -
see in them manifestations of repentance, of regard for
the enemy, and of a bad conscience for having slain

- him. It seems that the commandment, Thou shalt not
slay, which could not be violated without punishment,

existed also among these savages, long before any —

legislation was received from the hands of a god.

We now return to the remaining classes of taboo
rules. The restrictions laid upon the victorious man-
slayer are unusually frequent and are mostly of a
serious nature. In Timor (compare the reconciliation
customs mentioned above) the leader of the expedition
cannot return to his house under any circumstances.

1 Frazer, Taboo, pp. 166-174. These ceremonies consist of |
hitting shields, shouting, bellowing and making noises with |
various instruments, etc.

71

TOTEM AND TABOO
A special hut is erected for him in which he spends two
months engaged in the observance of various rules of
purification. During this period he may not see his
wife or nourish himself; another person must put his
food in his mouth! Among some Dayak tribes
| warriors returning from a successful expedition must
remain sequestered for several days and abstain from
certain foods ; they may not touch iron and must remain
away from their wives. Tn Logea, an island near New
Guinea, men who have killed an enemy or have taken
part in the killing lock themselves up in their houses
for a week. They avoid every intercourse with their
wives and friends, they do not touch their victuals with
their hands, and live on nothing but vegetable foods
which are cooked for them in special dishes. As a
reason for this last restriction it is alleged that they
must smell the blood of the slain, otherwise they would
sicken and die. Among the Toaripi- or Motumotu-
tribes in New Guinea a manslayer must not approach
his wife and must not touch his food with his fingers.
A second person must feed him with special food. This
continuessuntil the next new moon.

I avoid the complete enumeration of all the cases of
restrictions of the victorious slayer mentioned by
Frazer, and emphasize only such cases in which the
character of taboo is especially noticeable or where the
restriction appears in connection with expiation,
purification and ceremonial.

‎Frazer, Taboo, p. 166, according to S. Mueller, Reisen en‏ ג

‎Onderzoekingen in den Indischen Archipel (Amsterdam, 1857).
72

Among the Monumbos in German New Guinea
man who has killed an enemy in combat becomes
“unclean,” the same word being employed which
applied to women during menstruation or confinement.
For a considerable period he is not allowed to leave the
men's club-house, while the inhabitants of his village

gather about him and celebrate his victory with songs |

and dances. He must not touch any one, not even his
wife and children; if he did so they would be afflicted
with boils. He finally becomes clean through washing
and other ceremonies.

Among the Natchez in North America young war-

riors who had procured their first scalp were bound Гог

six months to the observance of certain renunciations.
They were not allowed to sleep with their wives or to
eat meat, and received only fish and maize pudding as
nourishment. When a Choctaw had killed and
scalped an enemy he began a period of mourning for
one month, during which he was not allowed to comb
his hair. When his head itched he was not allowed to
scratch it with his hand but used a small stick for this
purpose.

After a Pima Indian had killed an Apache he had to
submit himself to severe ceremonies of purification and
expiation. During a fasting period of sixteen days he
was not allowed to touch meat or salt, to look at a fire
or to speak to any one. He lived alone in the woods,
where he was waited upon by an old woman who
brought him a small allowance of food; he often

bathed in the ncarest river, and carried a lump of clay
e . 3

on his head as a sign of mourning. On the seventeenth |
day there took place a public ceremony through which
he and his weapons were solemnly purified. As the
| Pima Indians took the manslayer taboo much more
seriously than their enemies and, unlike them, did not
postpone expiation and purification until the end of the
expedition, their prowess in war suffered very much
through their moral severity or what might be called
- their piety. In spite of their extraordinary bravery
they proved to be unsatisfactory allies to the Americans
. in their wars against the Apaches.
The detail and variations of these expiatory and
purifying ceremonies after the killing of an enemy would
be most interesting for purposes of a more searching
study, but I necd not enumerate any more of them here
because they cannot furnish us with any new points of
| view. I might mention that the temporary or per-
manent isolation of the professional executioner, which
was maintained up to our time, is a case in point. The
position of the “ free-holder” in medieval society
really conveys a good idea of the “ taboo ” of savages.!
The current explanation of all these rules of recon-
ciliation, restriction, expiation and purification, com-
bines two principles, namely, the extension of the taboo
| of the dead to everything that has come into contact
with him, and the fear of the spirit of the slain. In
- what combination these two elements are to explain the
ceremonial whether they are to be considered as of
1 For these examples see Frazer, Taboo, p. 165-170, “ Man-

slayers Tabooed.”
a み

value or whether one of them is primary and the
other secondary, and which one, is nowhere stated,
nor would this be an easy matter to decide. In contra-
distinction to all this we emphasize the unity which our |
interpretation gains by deducing all these rules from the
ambivalence of the emotion of savages towards their
enemies.

(b) THE TABOO OF RULERS

The behaviour of primitive races towards their chiefs
kings, and priests is controlled by two principles which
seem rather to supplement than to contradict each —
other. They must both be guarded and be guarded
against!

Both objects are accomplished through innumerable —
rules of taboo. Why one must guard against rulers is —
already known to us; because they are the bearers of
that mysterious and dangerous magic power which
communicates itself by contact, like an electric charge,
bringing death and destruction to any one not pro-
tected by a similar charge. All direct or indirect con-
tact with this dangerous sacredness is therefore avoided, |
and where it cannot be avoided a ceremonial has been
found to ward off the dreaded consequences. The
Nubas in East Africa, for instance, believe that they —
must die if they enter the house of their priest-king, but
that they escape this danger if, on entering, they bare
the left shoulder and induce the king to touch it with his

1 Frazer, Taboo, p. 132. “ He must not only be guarded, he
must also be guarded against.”

75

TOTEM AND TABOO 5
= hand. Thus we have the remarkable case of the king's
— touch becoming the healing and protective measure
against the very dangers that arise from contact with the
king; but it is probably a question of the healing power
of the intentional touching on the king's part in contra-
distinction to the danger of touching him, in other
words, of the opposition between passivity and activity
towards the king.
‘Where the healing power of the royal ‚uch ‏ב‎
‎cerned we do not have to look for examples among
savages. In comparatively recent times the kings of
England exercised this power upon scrofula, whence it
was called * The King’s Evil.” Neither Queen Eliza-
beth nor any of her successors renounced this part of
the royal prerogative. Charles I is said to have healed
a hundred sufferers at one time, in the year 1633.
Under his dissolute son Charles II, after the great
English revolution had passed, royal healings of
scrofula attained their greatest vogue.
This king is said to have touched close to a hundred
thousand victims of scrofula in the course of his reign.
The crush of those seeking to be cured used to be so
great that on one occasion six or seven patients suffered
death by suffocation instead of being healed. The
sceptical king of Orange, William TIT, who became king
of England after the banishment of the Stuarts, refused
to exercise the spell; on the one occasion when he con-
sented to practise the touch, he did so with words:
* May God give you better health and more sense.” +

1 Frazer, The Magic Art, I, p. 368.
7%

| The following account will bear witness to the terrible |
effect of touching by virtue of which a person, even
though unintentionally, becomes active against his king
or against what belongs to him. A chief of high rank
and great holiness in New Zealand happened to leave
the remains of his meal by the roadside. A young slave
came along, a strong healthy fellow, who saw what was —
left over and started to eat it. Hardly had he finished
when а horrified spectator informed him of his offence |
in eating the meal of the chief. The man had been a |
strong, brave warrior, but as soon as he heard this he
collapsed and was afflicted by terrible convulsions, from
which he died towards sunset of the following day A |
Maori woman ate a certain fruit and then learned that it —
came from a place on which there was a taboo. She
cried out that the spirit of the chief whom she had thus
offended would surely kill her. This incident occurred
in the afternoon, and on the next day at twelve o'clock — -
she was dead." The tinder box of a Maori chief once —
cost several persons their lives. The chief had lost it,
and those who found it used it to light their pipes.
When they learned whose property the tinder box was
they all died of fright.”

It is hardly astonishing that the need was felt to iso-
late dangerous persons like chiefs and priests, by
building a wall around them which made them in-

* Old New Zealand, by a Pakeha Maori (London, 1884), see
Frazer, Taboo, p. 135.

2 W. Brown, New Zealand and Its Aborigines (London, 1845).
Frazer, Le.

* Frazer, Le.

77

siblc to others. We surmise that this wall, which -
— originally was constructed out of taboo rules, still
exists to-day in the form of court ceremony.

But probably the greater part of this taboo of the
rulers cannot be traced back to the need of guarding
against them. The other point of view in the treatment
_ of privileged persons, the need of guarding them from
dangers with which they are threatened, has had a dis-
tinct share in the creation of taboo and therefore of the
origin of court etiquette.

The necessity of guarding the king from every con-
ceivable danger arises from his great importance for the
weal and woe of his subjects. Strictly speaking, he is
a person who regulates the course of the world; his
| people have to thank him not only for rain and sun-
shine, which allow the fruits of the carth to grow, but
also for the wind which brings the ships to their shores
and for the solid ground on which they set their feet.
‘These savage kings are endowed with a wealth of
power and an ability to bestow happiness which only
gods possess; certainly in later stages of civilization
none but the most servile courtiers would play the
hypocrite to the extent of crediting their sovereigns with
| the possession of attributes similar to these.

It seems like an obvious contradiction that persons of
such perfection of power should themselves require the
greatest care to guard them against threatening dangers,
but this is not the only contradiction revealed in the

‎Frazer, Taboo. The Burden of Royalty, p. 7.‏ ג
78

These races consider it necessary to watch over their
kings to see that they use their powers in the right way;
they are by no means sure of their good intentions or of
their conscientiousness. A strain of mistrust is mingled —
with the motivation of the taboo rules for the king. |
+ The idea that early kingdoms are despotisms,” says

Frazer, * in which the people exist only for the sover- |
eign; is wholly inapplicable to the monarchies we are —
considering. On the contrary, the sovereign in them |
exists only for his subjects: his life is only valuable so |
Jong as he discharges the duties of his position by
ordering the course of nature for his people's benefit.
So soon as he fails to do so, the care, the devotion, the
religious homage which they had hitherto lavished on |
him cease and are changed into hatred and contempt ; he —
is ignominiously dismissed and may be thankful if he 」
escapes with his life. Worshipped as a god one day, 」
he is killed as a criminal the next. But in this changed |
behaviour of the people there is nothing capricious or
inconsistent. On the contrary, their conduct is quite
consistent. If their king is their god he is, or should be,
also their preserver; and if he will not preserve them he
must make room for another who will. So long, how-
ever, as he answers their expectations, there is no limit |
to the care which they take of him, and which they com- |
pel him to take of himself. A king of this sort lives |
hedged in by ceremonious etiquette, a network of |
prohibitions and observances, of which the intention is —
not to contribute to his dignity, much less to his com- |

+ esp.
79

į

if mum me eje
= fort, but to restrain him from conduct which, ⑤ P
| turbing the harmony of nature, might involve himself,
his people, and the universe in one common catastrophe.

Far from adding to his comfort, these observances, by
trammelling his every act, annihilate his freedom and
often render the very life, which it is their object to

— preserve, à burden and sorrow to him.”

_ One of the most glaring examples of thus fettering
and paralysing a holy ruler through taboo ceremonial
seems to have been reached in the life routine of the
Mikado of Japan, as it existed in earlier centuries. A
description which is now over two hundred years old *
relates: “ He thinks that it would be very prejudicial to
his dignity and holiness to touch the ground with his
feet; for this reason, when he intends to go anywhere,

| he must be carried thither on men's shoulders. Much
Jess will they suffer that he should expose his sacred
person to the open air, and the sun is not thought

| worthy to shine on his head. There is such a holiness
ascribed to all the parts of his body that he dares to cut
| off neither his hair, nor his beard, nor his nails. How-
ever, lest he should grow too dirty, they may clean him
in the night when he is asleep; because they say that
what is taken from his body at that time, hath been
stolen from him, and that such a theft does not pre-

. judice his holiness or dignity. In ancient times, he was

- obliged to sit on the throne for some hours every

| morning, with the imperial crown on his head; but to
sit altogether like a statue without stirring either hands

1 Kaempfer, History of Japan, sec in Frazer, l.e., p. 3.
80

because by this means it was thought that he could
preserve peace and tranquillity in his empire; for if, un
fortunately, he turned himself on one side or other, of

dominion, it was apprehended that war, famine, fire or |
some other great misfortune was near at hand to deso-
late the country.”

Some of the taboos to which barbarian kings are |
subject vividly recall the restrictions placed on mur-
derers. On Shark Point at Cape Padron in Lower ~
Guinea (West Africa), a priest-king called Kukulu lives |
alone ina wood. 116 is not allowed to touch a woman
or to leave his house, and cannot even rise out of his
chair, in which he must sleep in a sitting position. If
he should lie down the wind would cease and shipping
would be disturbed. It is his function to keep storms
in check, and in general, to see to an even, healthy
condition of the atmosphere. The more powerful a
king of Loango is, says Bastian, the more taboos he —
must observe. The heir to the throne is also bound —
to them from childhood on; they accumulate about him
while he is growing up, and by the time of his accession —
he is suffocated by them. 4

Our interest in the matter does not reguire us to take
up more space to describe more fully the taboos that —
cling to royal and priestly dignity. We merely add that —
restrictions as to freedom of movement and diet play

‎Bastian, The German Expedition to the Coast of Loango (Jena,‏ ג

‎1874), cited by Frazer, Lc., p. 5.
81

taboo ceremonial taken from civilized nations, and
therefore from much higher stages of culture, will
indicate to what an extent association with these
- privileged persons tends to preserve ancient customs.
The Flamen Dialis, the high-priest of Jupiter in
- Rome, had to observe an extraordinarily large number
of taboo rules. He was not allowed to ride, to see a
horse or an armed man, to wear a ring that was not
broken, to have a knot in his garments, to touch wheat
flour or leaven, or even to mention by name a goat, a
dog, raw meat, beans and ivy; his hair could only be
cut by a free man and with a bronze knife, his hair
- combings and nail parings had to be buried under a
lucky tree; he could not touch the dead, go into the
— open with bare head, and similar prohibitions. His
wife, the Flaminica, also had her own prohibitions: she
was not allowed to ascend more than three steps on a
certain kind of stairs, and on certain holidays she could

not comb her hair; the leather for her shoes could not
| be taken from any animal that had died a natural death,
but only from one that had been slaughtered or
sacrificed; when she heard thunder she was unclean
until she had made an expiatory sacrifice.

The old kings of Ireland were subject to a series of
very curious restrictions, the observance of which was
expected to bring every blessing to the country while
their violdtion entailed every form of evil. The com-
plete description of these taboos is given in the Book of

‎Frazer, ће. p. 13.‏ ג
82

Rights, of which the oldest manuscript copies bear th
dates 1390 and 1418. The prohibitions are very

stay on a certain day of the week, while at some
specified hour this or that river may not be crossed, or
again there is a plain on which he cannot camp a full
nine days, etc.

Among many savage races the severity of the taboo
restrictions for the priest-kings has had results of
historic importance which are especially interesting
from our point of view. The honour of being a priest-
king ceased to be desirable; the person in line for the
succession often used every means to escape it. Thus |
in Combodscha, where there is a fire and water king,
it is often necessary to use force to compel the successor
to accept the honour. On Niue or Savage Island, a
coral island in the Pacific Ocean, monarchy actually
came to an end because nobody was willing to under-
take the responsible and dangerous office. In some
parts of West Africa a general council is held after the
death of the king to determine upon the successor.
The man on whom the choice falls is seized, tied and
kept in custody in the fetish house until he has declared
himself willing to accept the crown. Sometimes the —
presumptive successor to the throne finds ways and
means to avoid the intended honour; thus it is related
of a certain chief that he used to go armed day and
night and resist by force every attempt to place him on

ENE

* Frazer, Le, p. 11.
83

É

the throne. Among the negroes of Sierra Leone the
_ resistance against accepting the kingly honour was so
great that most of the tribes were compelled to make
- strangers their kings.

Frazer makes these conditions responsible for the
- fact that in the development of history a separation
of the original priest-kingship into a spiritual and a
secular power finally took place. Kings, crushed by
the burden of their holiness, became incapable of
exercising their power over real things and had to leave
this to inferior but executive persons who were willing
to renounce the honours of royal dignity. From these
there grew up the secular rulers, while the spiritual
over-lordship, which was now of no practical import-
ance, was left to the former taboo kings. It is well
known to what extent this hypothesis finds confirma-

tion in the history of old Japan.

A survey of the picture of the relations of primitive
peoples to their rulers gives rise to the expectation that
our advance from description to psychoanalytic under-
standing will not be difficult. These relations are of an
involved nature and are not free from contradictions.
Rulers are granted great privileges which are practically
cancelled by taboo prohibitions in regard to other
privileges. They are privileged persons, they can do
or enjoy what is withheld from the rest through taboo.
But in contrast to this freedom they are restricted by

.. other taboos which do not affect the ordinary indivi-

* A. Bastian, The German Expedition on the Coast of Loango,

cited by Frazer, /.c., p. 18.
84

amounts almost to a contradiction, between an ex
of freedom and an excess of restriction as applied to th
same persons. They are credited with extraordina
magic powers, and contact with their person or thei
property is therefore feared, while on the other han
the most beneficial effect is expected from these con-
tacts. This seems to be a second and an especially |
glaring contradiction; but we have already learned —
that it is only apparent. The king's touch, exercised by
him with benevolent intention, heals and protects; it is
only when a common man touches the king or his royal |
effects that the contact becomes dangerous, and this is
probably because the act may recall aggressive tenden-
cies. Another contradiction which is not so easily
solved is expressed in the fact that great power over the —
processes of nature is ascribed to the ruler, and yet the
obligation is felt to guard him with especial care against -
threatening dangers, as if his own power, which can do
so much, were incapable of accomplishing this. A
further difficulty in the relation arises because there is
no confidence that the ruler will use his tremendous —
power to the advantage of his subjects as well as for his
own protection; he is therefore distrusted and sur-
veillance over him is considered to be justified. The
taboo etiquette, to which the life of the king is subject,
simultaneously serves all these objects of exercising a
tutelage over the king, of guarding him against dangers,
and of guarding his subjects against danger which he
brings to them.

85

.weswiuciiaekiraginmemnswingcxptamkiosok’
the complicated and contradictory relation of the primi-
| tive peoples to their rulers. Through superstition as
- well as through other motives, various tendencies find
expression in the treatment of kings, each of which is
developed to the extreme without regard to the other.
As a result of this, contradictions arise at which the
intellect of savages takes no more offence than a highly
civilized person would as long as it is only a question of
religious matters or of “ loyalty.”
That would be so far so good; but the psycho-
analytic technique may enable us to penetrate more
| deeply into the matter and to add something about the
| nature of these various tendencies. If we subject the
facts as stated to analysis, just as if they formed the
) symptoms of a neurosis, our first attention would be
directed to the excess of anxious worry which is said to
be the cause of the taboo ceremonial. The occurrence
of such excessive tenderness is very common in the
| neurosis, and especially in the compulsion neurosis upon
which we are drawing primarily for our comparison.
We now thoroughly understand the origin of this
tenderness. lt occurs wherever, besides the predomin-
ant tenderness, there exists a contrary but unconscious
stream of hostility, that is to say, wherever the typical
| case of an ambivalent affective attitude is realized.
. The hostility is then cried down by an excessive increase
of tenderness which is expressed as anxiety and becomes
compulsive because otherwise it would not suffice for

its task of keeping the unconscious opposition in a state
- 86

‎AND THE AMBIVALENCE OF EMO!‏ סי
‎of repression. Every psychoanalyst knows how in- -‏
‎fallibly this anxious excess of tenderness can be re-‏
‎solved even under the most improbable circumstances,‏
‎as for instance, when it appears between mother and‏
‎child, or in the case of affectionate married people. |‏
‎Applied to the treatment of privileged persons this —‏
‎theory of an ambivalent feeling would reveal that their‏
‎veneration, their very deification, is opposed in the‏
‎unconscious by an intense hostile tendency, so that, as |‏
‎we had expected, the situation of an ambivalent feeling‏
‎is here realized. The distrust which certainly seems to —‏
‎contribute to the motivation of the royal taboo would |‏
‎be another direct manifestation of the same unconscious‏
‎hostility. Indeed the ultimate issues of this conflict‏
‎show such a diversity among different races that we‏
‎would not be at a loss for examples in which the proof‏
‎of such hostility would be much easier. We learn from‏
‎Frazer * that the savage Timmes of Sierra Leone reserve‏
‎the right to administer a beating to their elected king on _‏
‎the evening before his coronation, and that they make‏
‎use of this constitutional right with such thoroughness‏
‎that the unhappy ruler sometimes does not survive his‏
‎accession to the throne; for this reason the leaders of‏
‎the race have made it a rule to elect some man against‏
‎whom they have a particular grudge. Nevertheless, even —‏
‎in such glaring cases the hostility is not acknowledged —‏
‎as such, but is expressed as if it were a ceremonial. — |‏
‎Another trait in the attitude of primitive races to-‏

‎* Le, р. 18. According to Zwefel et Monstier, Voyage aux |
Sources du Niger, 1880. ⑧

‎87

4 dum their rulers recalls a mechanism which is uni-
versally present in mental disturbances, and is openly
revealed in the so-called delusions of persecution.
Here the importance of a particular person is extra-
ordinarily heightened and his omnipotence is raised to.
_ the improbable in order to make it casier to attribute to
him the responsibility for everything painful which
happens to the patient. Savages really do not act
differently towards their rulers when they ascribe to
them power over rain and shine, wind and weather, and
then dethrone or kill them because nature has dis-
appointed their expectation of a good hunt or a ripe
harvest. The prototype which the paranoiac recon-
structs in his persecution mania is found in the rela-
tion of the child to its father. Such omnipotence is
regularly attributed to the father in the imagination of
the son, and distrust of the father has been shown to be
intimately connected with the highest esteem for him.
When à paranoiac names a person of his acquaintance
as his “ persecutor," he thereby elevates him to the
paternal succession and brings him under conditions
which cnable him to måke him responsible for all the
misfortune which he experiences. Thus this second
analogy between the savage and the neurotic may allow
us to surmise how much in the relation of the savage to
his ruler arises from the infantile attitude of the child
to the father.

But the strongest support for our point of view,
which seeks to compare taboo prohibitions with
neurotic symptoms, is to be found in the taboo cere-
88

monial itself, the significance of which for the status o
kingship has already been the subject of our previous —
discussion. This ceremonial unmistakably reveals its |
double meaning and its origin from ambivalent ten- |
dencies if only we are willing to assume that the effects
it produces are those which it intended from the very |
beginning. It not only distinguishes kings and elevates
them above all ordinary mortals, but it also makes their |
life a torture and an unbearable burden and forces them —
into a thraldom which is far worse than that of their
subjects. It would thus be the correct counterpart to |
the compulsive action of the neurosis, in which the |
suppressed impulse and the impulse which suppresses i
meet in mutual and simultaneous satisfaction. The
compulsive action is nominally a protection against the -
forbidden action; but we would say that actually it is a
repetition of what is forbidden. The word “ nomin-
ally ” is here applied to the conscious whereas the word |
+ actually” applies to the unconscious instance of the
psychic life. Thus also the taboo ceremonial of kings
is nominally an expression of the highest veneration
and a means of guarding them; actually itis the punish.
ment for their elevation, the revenge which their
subjects take upon them. „The experiences which Cer-
vantes makes Sancho Panza undergo as governor on his
island have evidently made him recognize this interpre-
tation of courtly ceremonial as the only correct one. It
is very possible that this point would be corroborated
if we could induce kings and rulers of to-day to express
themselves on this point.

89

Why the emotional attitude towards rulers should
contain such a strong unconscious share of hostility is
a very interesting problem which, however, exceeds the
scope of this book. We have already referred to the
| infantile father-complex ; we may add that an investiga-
tion of the early history of kingship would bring the
decisive explanations. Frazer has an impressive dis-.
cussion of the theory that the first kings were strangers
| who, after a short reign, were destined to be sacrificed
| at solemn festivals as representatives of the deity; but
| Frazer himself does not consider his facts altogether
| convincing? Christian myths are said to have been
| still influenced by the after-effects of this evolution of
— kings.

(c) THE TABOO OF THE DEAD

We know that the dead are mighty rulers: we may be
| surprised to learn that they are regarded as enemies.
Among most primitive people the taboo of the dead
displays, if we may keep to our infection analogy, a
peculiar virulence. It manifests itself, in the first place,
in the consequences which result from contact with the
dead, and in the treatment of the mourners for the
dead. Among the Maori any one who had touched a
corpse or who had taken part in its interment became
extremely unclean and was almost cut off from inter-
course with his fellow beings; he was, as we say, boy-
= cotted. He could not enter a house, or approach

1 Frazer, The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings, 2 vols,
1911 (The Golden Bough).

persons or objects without infecting them with the —
same properties. He could not even touch his food |
with his own hands, which were now unclean and there-
fore quite useless to him. His food was put on th
ground and he had no alternative except to seize it as |
best he could, with his lips and teeth, while he held his |
hands behind on his back. Occasionally he could be |
fed by another person who helped him to his food with —
outstretched arms so as not to touch the unfortunate one
himself, but this assistant was then in turn subjected to —
almost equally oppressive restrictions. Almost every
village contained some altogether disreputable indivi
dual, ostracized by society, whose wretched existence
depended upon people's charity. This creature alone —
was allowed within arm's length of a person who had
fulfilled the last duty towards the deceased. But as soon |
as the period of segregation was over and the person
rendered unclean through the corpse could again
mingle with his fellow-beings, all the dishes which he |
had used during the dangerous period were broken and —
all his clothing was thrown away. ,
The taboo customs after bodily contact with the dead —
are the same all over Polynesia, in Melanesia, and in a
part of Africa; their most constant feature is the pro-
hibition against handling one’s food and the cons
quent necessity of being fed by somebody else. It is
noteworthy that in Polynesia, or perhaps only in —
Hawaii, priest-kings were subject to the same restric- |
tions during the exercise of holy functions. In the

1 Frazer, Taboo, р. 148, etc.
91

— taboo of the dead on the Island of Tonga the abate- |
ment and gradual abolition of the prohibitions through
the individual’s own taboo power are clearly shown.
A person who touched the corpse of a dead chieftain
was unclean for ten months; but if he was himself a
chief, he was unclean for only three, four, or five
months, according to the rank of the deceased ; if it was
the corpse of the idolized head-chief even the greatest
chiefs became taboo for ten months. These savages
are so certain that any one who violates these taboo
rules must become seriously ill and die, that, according
to the opinion of an observer, they have never yet dared
to convince themselves of the contrary
The taboo restrictions imposed upon persons whose
contact with the dead is to be understood in the trans-
ferred sense, namely the mourning relatives such as
widows and widowers, are essentially the same as those
mentioned above, but they are of greater interest for the
point we are trying to make. In the rules hitherto
‘mentioned we see only the typical expression of the
virulence and power of diffusion of the taboo; in those
about to be cited we catch a gleam of the motives, in-
cluding both the ostensible ones and those which may
be regarded as the underlying and genuine motives.
Among the Shuswap in British Columbia widows
and widowers have to remain segregated during their
. period of mourning; they must not use their hands to
touch the body or the head, and all utensils used by

‎W. Mariner, The Natives of the Tonga Islands, 1818; see‏ ג
‎Frazer, Le, p. 140.‏ |

‎92

them must not be used by any one else. No hunter will
want to approach the hut in which such mourners live, |
for that would bring misfortune; if the shadow of one —
of the mourners should fall on him he would become
ill. The mourners sleep on thorn bushes, with which
they also surround their beds. This last precaution is
meant to keep off the spirit of the deceased; plainer still —
is the reported custom of other North American tribes
where the widow, after the death of her husband, has |
to wear a kind of trousers of dried grass in order to
make herself inaccessible to the approach of the spirit.
Thus it is quite obvious that touching “ in the trans-
+ ferred sense” is after all understood only as bodily
contact, since the spirit of the deceased does not leave
his kin and does not desist from “hovering about
them,” during the period of mourning.

Among the Agutainos, who live on Palawan, one of
the Philippine Islands, a widow may not leave her hut
for the first seven or eight days after her husband's
death, except at night, when she need not expect en-
counters. Whoever sees her is in danger of immediate —
death, and therefore she herself warns others of her —
approach by hitting the trees with a wooden stick with
every step she takes; these trees all wither. Another
observation explains the nature of the danger inherent
in a widow. In the district of Mekeo, British New
Guinea, a widower forfeits all civil rights and lives like
an outlaw. He may not tend a garden, or show him-
self in public, or enter the village or go on the street.
He slinks about like an animal, in the high grass or in

3
93 1

4 the Buches and must hide in a thicket if he sees any-
body, especially a woman, approaching. This last hint
makes it easy for us to trace back the danger of the
widower or widow to the danger of temptation. The
husband who has lost his wife must evade the desire
for a substitute; the widow has to contend with the
same wish, and beside this, she may arouse the desire
of other men because she is without a master. Every
* such satisfaction through a substitute runs contrary
to the intention of mourning and would cause the anger
of the spirit to flare up.
One of the most surprising but at the same time one
of the most instructive taboo customs of mourning -
among primitive races is the prohibition against pro-
nouncing the name of the deceased. This is very wide-
spread, and has been subjected to many modifications
with important consequences.
Aside from the Australians and the Polynesians, who
usually show us taboo customs in their best state of
preservation, we also find this prohibition among races
so far apart and unrelated to each other as the Samo-
jedes in Siberia and the Todas in South India, the
Mongolian of Tartary and the Tuaregs of the Sahara,
- the Aino of Japan and the Akamba and Nandi in
Central Africa, the Tinguanes in the Philippines and the
inhabitants of the Nikobari Islands and of Madagascar
3 The same patient whose “ impossibilities ” I have correlated
/ with taboo (scc above, p. 55) acknowledged that she always be-
came indignant when she met anybody on the street who was

dressed in mourning. ** Such people should be forbidden to go
out!" she said.

94

TABOO AND THE AMBIVALENCE OF EMOTIONS
and Borneo? Among some of these races the prohibi-
tion and its consequences hold good only for the period

rule kept up with extraordinary severity. Thus,
among many South American tribes, it is considered
the gravest insult to the survivors to pronounce the —
name of the deceased in their presence, and the penalty
set for it is no less than that for the slaying itself. At i
first it is not easy to guess why the mention of the name
should be so abominated, but the dangers associated |
with it have called into being a whole series of interest- —
ing and important expedients to avoid this. Thus the
Masai in Africa have hit upon the evasion of changing
the name of the deceased immediately upon his death;
he may now be mentioned without dread by this new
name, while all the prohibitions remain attached to the — '
old name. It seems to be assumed that the ghost does -

not know his new name and will not find it out. The
Australian tribes on Adelaide and Encounter Bay are
so consistently cautious that when a death occurs
almost every person who has the same name as the
deceased, or avery similar one, exchanges it for another.
Sometimes by a further extension of the same idea as
seen among several tribes in Victoria and in North
America all the relatives of the deceased change their
names regardless of whether their names resemble the

1 Frazer, Le., p. 353. ? Frazer, Le., p. 352, ele.
95

; TOTEM AND TABOO | ⑧
name of the deceased in sound. Among the Guaycuru
in Paraguay the chief used fo give new names to all the

| members of the tribe, on such sad occasions, which they
| then remembered as if they had always had them.

Furthermore, if the deceased had the same name as
an animal or object, etc., some of the races just enumer-
ated thought it necessary to give these animals and
| objects new names, in order not to be reminded of the
deceased when they mentioned them. Through this
there must have resulted a never-ceasing change of
vocabulary, which caused a good deal of difficulty for
the missionaries, especially where the interdiction upon
a name was permanent. In the seven years which the
missionary Dobrizhofer spent among the Abipons in
Paraguay, the name for jaguar was changed three times
and the words for crocodile, thorns and animal slaugh-
ter underwent a similar fate.» But the dread of pro-
nouncing a name which has belonged to a deceased
person extends also to the mention of everything in
which the deceased had any part, and a further import-
ant result of this process of suppression is that these
races have no tradition or any historical reminiscences,
so that we encounter the greatest difficulties in in-
vestigating their past history. Among a number of
these primitive races compensating customs have also
been established in order to reawaken the names of the
deceased after a long period of mourning; they are

* Frazer, Le, p. 357, according to an old Spanish observer,
1732.
? Frazer, Le., p. 360.
96

bestowed upon children who were regarded as re-
incarnations of the dead. A
The strangcnoss of this taboo on names diminishes if |

we bear in mind that the savage looks upon his name as
an essential part and an important possession of his —
personality, and that he ascribes the full significance of —
things to words. Our children do the same, as I have
shown elsewhere, and therefore they are never satisfied
with accepting a meaningless verbal similarity, but —
consistently conclude that when two things have
identical nantes a deeper correspondence between them.
must exist. Numerous peculiarities of normal be-
haviour may lead civilized man to conclude that he too —
is not yet as far removed as he thinks from attributing
the importance of things to mere names and feeling
that his name has become peculiarly identified with his.
person. This is corroborated by psychoanalytic ex-

= periences, where there is much occasion to point out —
the importance of names in unconscious thought —
activity! As was to be expected, the compulsion —
neurotics behave just like savages in regard to names. |
They show the full “ complex sensitiveness ” towards —
the utterance and hearing of special words (as do also |
other neurotics), and derive a good many, often serious, —
inhibitions from their treatment of their own name. |
One of these taboo patients whom I knew had adopted
the avoidance of writing down her name for fear that it
might get into somebody's hands who thus would come
into possession of a piece of her personality. In her

1 Stekel, Abraham.

i D 97 ⑤

00
å Gei faithfulness, which she esi to protect her-
self against the temptations of her phantasy, she had
created for herself the commandment, “ not to give
away anything of her personality.” To this belonged
first of all her name, then by further application her
‘handwriting, so that she finally gave up writing.

Thus it no longer seems strange to us that savages
should consider a dead person’s name as a part of
his personality and that it should be subjected to the
same taboo as the deceased. Calling a dead person
by name can also be traced back to contact with him,
so that we can turn our attention to the more inclusive
problem of why this contact is visited with such a
severe taboo.

The nearest explanation would point to the natural
‘horror which a corpse inspires, especially in view of the
changes so soon noticeable after death. Mourning
for a dead person must also be considered a sufficient
motive for everything which has reference to him. But
horror of the corpse evidently does not cover all the
details of taboo rules, and mourning can never explain
to us why the mention of the dead is a severe insult to
his survivors. On the contrary, mourning loves to
preoccupy itself with the deceased, to elaborate his
memory, and preserve it for the longest possible time.
Something besides mourning must be made responsible
for the peculiarities of taboo customs, something which
evidently serves a different purpose. It is this very
taboo on names which reveals this still unknown motive,
and if the customs did not tell us about it we would find
98

FEA

it out from the statements of the mourning =
themselves.

For they do not conceal the fact that they fear the
presence and the return of the spirit of a dead person;
they practise a host of ceremonies to keep him off and
‘banish him. They look upon the mention of his name
as a conjuration which must result in his immediate
presence? They therefore consistently do everything
to avoid conjuring and awakening a dead person. —
They disguise themselves in order that the spirit may
not recognize them,” they distort either his name or —
their own, and become infuriated when a ruthless
stranger incites the spirit against his survivors by men- |
tioning his name. We can hardly avoid the conclusion
that they suffer, according to Wundt's expression, from
the fear of * his soul now turned into a demon.” +

With this understanding we approach Wundt's con 」
ception who, as we have heard, sees the nature of taboo
in the fear of demons.

The assumption which this theory makes, namely,
that immediately after death the beloved member of a
family becomes a demon, from whom the survivors
have nothing but hostility to expect, so that they must —
protect themselves by every means from his evil desires, —
is so peculiar that our first impulse is not to believe it.

* Frazer, Lc., р. 353, cites the Tuaregs of the Sahara as an
example of such an acknowledgment.

? Perhaps this condition is to be added: as long as any part of |
his physical remains exist. Frazer, l.c., p. 372.

> On the Nikobar Islands, Frazer, 1.c., p. 382.

+ Wundt, Religion and Myth, Vol. 11, р. 49.

99

et almost all competent authors agree as to this inter-
pretation of primitive races. Westermarck,! who, in
| my opinion, gives altogether too little consideration to
_ taboo, makes this statement: “ On the whole facts lead

— me to conclude that the dead are more frequently re-
garded as enemies than as friends and that Jevons and

— Grant Allen are wrong in their assertion that it was
formerly believed that the malevolence of the dead was
as a rule directed only against strangers, while they
were paternally concerned about the life and welfare of
their descendants and the members of their clan.”

R. Kleinpaul has written an impressive book in which
he makes use of the remnants of the old belief in souls
among civilized races to show the relation between the.
living and the dead? According to him, too, this
relation culminates in the conviction that the dead,
thirsting for blood, draw the living after them. The

- living did not feel themselves safe from the persecutions

= of the dead until a body of water had been put between

1 The Origin and Development of Moral Conceptions, scc sec- |
tion entitled * Attitude Towards the Dead," Vol. II, p. 424.
Both the notes and the text show an abundance of corroborating.
and often very characteristic testimony, e.g. the Maori believed
that “ the nearest and most beloved relatives changed their nature
after death and bore ill-will even to their former favourites.”
The Austral negroes believe that every dead person is for a long
time malevolent ; the closer the relationship the greater the fear.
| The Central Eskimos are dominated by the idea that the dead
come to rest very late and that at first they are to be feared as
‘mischievous spirits who frequently hover about the village to
spread illness, death and other супа, (Boas.)

* №. Kleinpaul: The Living and the Dead in Folklore, Religion
and Myth, 1898.

100

on islands or to bring them to the other side of a river
the expressions “ here ” and “ beyond ” originated in
this way. Later moderation has restricted the male- -
volence of the dead to those categories where a pecul
right to feel rancour had to be admitted, such as the
murdered who pursue their murderer as evil spirits, and
those who, like brides, had died with their longings un-
satisfied. Kleinpaul believes that originally, however,
the dead were all vampires, who bore ill-will to the liv.
ing, and strove to harm them and deprive them of life.
It was the corpse that first furnished the conception of
an evil spirit.

The hypothesis that those whom we love best turn |
into demons after death obviously allows us to put a
further question. What prompted primitive races to |
ascribe such a change of sentiment to the beloved dead? —
Why did they make demons out of them? According _
to Westermarck this question is easily answered * As
death is usually considered the worst calamity that can
overtake man, it is believed that the deceased are very
dissatisfied with their lot. Primitive races believe that
death comes only through being slain, whether by
violence or by magic, and this is considered already
sufficient reason for the soul to be vindictive and irrit- |
able. The soul presumably envies the living and longs
for the company of its former kin; we can therefore —
‘understand that the soul should seek to kill them with
diseases in order to be reunited with them. . . .

? Les р. 426.
101

. Å further explanation of the malevolence
ascribed to souls lies in the instinctive fear of them,
which is itself the result of the fear of deat
Our study of psychoneurotic disturbances points to
a more comprehensive explanation, which includes that
of Westermarck.
| When a wife loses her husband, or a daughter her
"mother, it not infrequently happens that the survivor
afflicted with tormenting scruples, called “ obsessive
| reproaches,” which raise the question whether she her-
- self has not been guilty, through carelessness or neglect,
| of the death of the beloved person. No recalling of the
care with which she nursed the invalid, or direct refuta-
tion of the asserted guilt, can put an end to the torture,
which is the pathological expression of mourning and
| which in time slowly subsides. Psychoanalytic in-
vestigation of such cases has made us acquainted with
the secret mainsprings of this affliction. We have ascer-
tained that these obsessive reproaches are in a certain
| sense justified and therefore are immune to refutation or
objections. Not that the mourner has really been
| guilty of the death or that she has really been careless,
as the obsessive reproach asserts; but still there was
| something in her, a wish of which she herself was un-
|| aware, which was not displeased with the fact that death
came, and which would have brought it about sooner
| had it been strong enough. The reproach now reacts
| against this unconscious wish after the death of the
beloved person. Such hostility, hidden in the uncon-
scious behind tender love, exists in almost all cases of
102

TABOO AND THE AMBIVALENCE OF
intensive emotional allegiance to a particular perso
indeed it represents the classic case, the prototype of
the ambivalence of human emotions. There is always
more or less of this ambivalence in everybody's dis- |
position; normally it is not strong enough to give rise |
to the obsessive reproaches we have described. But
where there is abundant predisposition for it, it mani- —
fests itself in the relation to those we love most, pre- —
cisely where you would least expect it. The disposition —
to compulsion neurosis which we have so often taken
for comparison with taboo problems is distinguished
by a particularly high degree of this original ambi-
valence of emotions. |.
We now know how to explain the supposed demon-
ism of recently departed souls and the necessity of being
protected against their hostility through taboo rules.
By assuming a similar high degree of ambivalence in the |
emotional life of primitive races such as psychoanalysis
ascribes to persons suffering from compulsion neurosis,
it becomes comprehensible that the same kind of re-
action against the hostility latent in the unconscious
behind the obsessive reproaches of the neurotic should
also be necessary here after the painful loss has occurred.
But this hostility, which is painfully felt in the uncon-
scious in the form of satisfaction with the demise, ex-
periences a different fate in the case of primitive man;
the defence against it is accomplished by displacement
upon the object of hostility, namely the dead. We call —
this defence process, frequent both in normal and |
diseased psychic life, a projection. The survivor will |
103 .

al E that he has ever entertained hostile pone
toward the beloved dead; but now the soul of the
deceased entertains them and will try to give vent to
them during the entire period of mourning. In spite
of the successful defence through projection, the puni-
| tive and remorseful character of this emotional reaction
manifests itself in being afraid, in self-imposed renun-
ciations and in subjection to restrictions which are
| partly disguised as protective measures against the hos-
- tile demon. Thus we find again that taboo has grown
out of the soil of an ambivalent emotional attitude.
| The taboo of the dead also originates from the opposi-
tion between the conscious grief and the unconscious
satisfaction at death. If this is the origin of the
resentment of spirits it is self-evident that just the
nearest and formerly most beloved survivors have to
fear it most.

As in neurotic symptoms, the taboo regulations also
` evince opposite feelings. Their restrictive character
| expresses mourning, while they also betray very clearly
what they are trying to conceal, namely, the hostility
towards the dead, which is now motivated as self
— defence. We have learnt to understand part of the
taboo regulations as temptation fears. A dead person
| is defenceless, which must act as an incitement to satisfy
hostile desires entertained against him; this temptation
has to be opposed by the prohibition.

But Westermarck is right in not admitting any differ-
ence in the savage's conception between those who have
died by violence and those who have died a natural

death. As will be shown later; in the uncoi
mode of thinking even a natural death is perceived as
murder ; the person was killed by evil wishes. Any on
interested in the origin and meaning of dreams deali
with the death of dear relatives such as parents and
brothers and sisters will find that the same feeling of |
ambivalence is responsible for the fact that the dreamer, —
the child, and the savage all have the same attitude
towards the dead.
A little while ago we challenged Wundt's conception,
who explains the nature of taboo through the fear of |
demons, and yet we have just agreed with the explana-
tion which traces back the taboo of the dead to a fear
of the soul of the dead after it has turned into a demon
This seems like a contradiction, but it will not be diffi- |
cult for us to explain it. It is true that we have accepted —
the idea of demons, but we know that this assumption
is not something final which psychology cannot resolve
into further elements. We have, as it were, exposed
the demons by recognizing them as mere projections of —
hostile feelings which the survivor entertains towards |
the dead. |
The double feeling—tenderness and hostility— |
against the deceased, which we consider well founded,
endeavours to assert itself at the time of bereavement |
as mourning and satisfaction. A conflict must ensue |
between these contrary feelings, and as one of them, |
namely the hostility, is altogether or for the greater part —
3 Cf. Chap. Ш. a

* Freud, The Interpretation of Dreams.
pt 105

difference in the form of hostility or tenderness as, for
. instance, when we forgive an injury inflicted upon us by
— someone we love. The process usually adjusts itself
through a special psychic mechanism, which is desig-

nated in psychoanalysis as projection. This unknown

hostility, of which we are ignorant and of which we do
| not wish to know, is projected from our inner percep-
- tion into the outer world and is thereby detached from
our own person and attributed to the other. Not we,
the survivors, rejoice because we are rid of the deceased,
on the contrary we mourn for him; but now, curiously
. enough, he has become an evil demon who would rejoice
in our misfortune and who seeks our death. The sur-
vivors must now defend themselves against this evil
| enemy; they are freed from inner oppression, but they
have only succeeded in exchanging it for an affliction
from without.

It is not to be denied that this process of projection,
which turns the dead into malevolent enemies, finds
some support in the real hostilities of the dead which the
survivors remember and with which they really can
reproach the dead. These hostilities are harshness, the
desire to dominate, injustice, and whatever else forms
the background of even the most tender relations be-
tween men. But the process cannot be so simple that
this factor alone could explain the origin of demons by
= projection. The offences of the dead certainly moti-
vate in part the hostility of the survivors, but they would
| have been ineffective if they had not given rise to this
106

unconscious, the conflict cannot result in a conscious

hostility, and the occasion of fe would surely be the
least suitable occasion for awakening the memory of
the reproaches which justly could have been brought

pelling motive. This hostile tendency towards those

nearest and dearest could remain latent during their |

lifetime, that is to say, it could avoid betraying itself to —

consciousness either directly or indirectly through any
substitutive formation. However, when the person
who was simultancously loved and hated died, this was
no longer possible, and the conflict became acute.
The mourning originating from the enhanced tender-
ness became on the onc hand more intolerant of the
latent hostility, while on the other hand it could not
tolerate that the latter should not give origin to a feeling
of pure gratification. Thus there came about the re-
pression of the unconscious hostility through projec-

tion, and the formation of the ceremonial in which fear —

of punishment by demons finds expression. With the
termination of the period of mourning, the conflict also
loses its acuteness so that the taboo of the dead can be
abated or sink into oblivion.

4

Having thus explained the basis on which the very
instructive taboo of the dead has grown up, we must
not miss the opportunity of adding a few observations
which may become important for the understanding of
taboo in general.

107

É
1

TOTEM AND TABOO

The projection of unconscious hostility upon demons

in the taboo of the dead

is only a single example from

a whole series of processes to which we must grant the
greatest influence in the formation of primitive psychic
life. In the foregoing case the mechanism of projection
is used to settle an emotional conflict; it serves the same
purpose in a large number of psychic situations which

lead to neuroses. But

projection is not specially

created for the purpose of defence, it also comes into
being where there are no conflicts. The projection of
inner perceptions to the outside is a primitive mechan-
ism which, for instance, also influences our sense-
perceptions, so that it normally has the greatest share
in shaping our outer world. Under conditions that
have not yet been sufficiently determined even inner
perceptions of ideational and emotional processes are
projected outwardly, like sense perceptions, and are
"used to shape the outer world, whereas they ought to
remain in the inner world. This is perhaps genetically
connected with the fact that the function of attention
was originally directed not towards the inner world, but

to the stimuli streaming

in from the outer world, and

only received reports of pleasure and pain from the
Only with the development of |

endopsychic processes.
the language of abstract.
tion of sensory remnants

thought through the associa-
of word representations with

inner processes, did the latter gradually become capable

outward projection of i

of perception. Before this took place primitive man
_ had developed a picture of the outer world through the

inner perceptions, which we,
108

_ with our reinforced conscious perception, must now
translate back into psychology.

The projection of their own evil impulses upon |
demons is only a part of what has become the world |
system (“ Weltanschauung ”) of primitive man which |
we shall discuss later as animism.” We shall then |
have to ascertain the psychological nature of such a
system formation and the points of support which we
shall find in the analysis of these system formations will |
again bring us face to face with the neurosis. For the |

present we merely wish to suggest that the “ secondary å
elaboration ” of the dream content is the prototype of |
all these system formations." And let us not forget that —
beginning at the stage of system formation there are two 」
origins for every act judged by consciousness, namely Å
the systematic, and the real but unconscious origin."

Wundt * remarks that * among the influences which
myth everywhere ascribes to demons the evil ones pre- —
ponderate, ‏ספ‎ that according to the religions of races —
evil demons are evidently older than good demons.” |
Now it is quite possible that the whole conception of
demons was derived from the extremely important

relation to the dead. In the further course of human |
development the ambivalence inherent in this relation
then manifested itself by allowing two altogether con-
trary psychic formations to issue from the same root,

3

* Freud, The Interpretation of Dreams.
? The projection creations of primitive man resemble the
personifications through which the poet projects his warring
impulses out of himself, as separated individuals,
3 Myth and Religion, р. 129.
109

TOTEM AND TABOO

namely, the fear of demons and of ghosts, and the rev
ence for ancestors: Nothing testifies so much to the
| influence of mourning on the origin of belief in demons
as the fact that demons were always taken to be the
spirits of persons not long dead. Mourning has a very
distinct psychic task to perform, namely, to detach the
memories and expectations of the survivors from the
dead. When this work is accomplished the grief, and
with it the remorse and reproach, lessens, and therefore
also the fear of the demon. But the very spirits which
| at first were feared as demons now serve a friendlier
— purpose; they are revered as ancestors and appealed to
for help in times of distress.

If we survey the relation of survivors to the dead
| through the course of the ages, it is very evident that
| thc ambivalent feeling has extraordinarily abated.
We now find it easy to suppress whatever unconscious
| hostility towards the dead there may still exist without
any special psychic effort on our part. Where formerly
- satisfied hate and painful tenderness struggled with each
| other, we now find piety, which appears like a cicatrice

|
|

and demands: De mortuis nil nisi bene. Only neurotics
still blur the mourning for the loss of their dear ones
— with attacks of compulsive reproaches which psycho-

* In the psychoanalysis of neurotic persons who suffer, or have
suffered, in their childhood from the fear of ghosts, it is often not
difficult to expose these ghosts as the parents. Compare also in
this connection the communication of P. Haeberlin, Sexual
|. Ghosts (Sexual Problems, Feb. 1912), where it is a question of
another erotically accentuated person, but where the father was

110

Å
4

TABOO AND THE AMBIVALENCE OF EMOTIO!

analysis reveals as the old ambivalent emotional feeling.
How this change was brought about, and to what extent
constitutional changes and real improvement of famil-
iar relations share in causing the abatement of the am-
bivalent feeling, need not be discussed here. But this
example would lead us to assume that the psychic im-
pulses of primitive man possessed a higher degree of
ambivalence than is found at present among civilized
human beings. With the decline of this ambivalence the
taboo, as the compromise symptom of the ambivalent
conflict, also slowly disappeared. Neurotics who are
compelled to reproduce this conflict, together with the
taboo resulting from it, may be said to have brought
with them an atavistic remnant in the form of an
archaic constitution the compensation of which in the
interest of cultural demands entails the most prodigious
psychic efforts on their part.

At this point we may recall the confusing information
which Wundt offered us about the double meaning of
the word taboo, namely, holy and unclean (sce above).
It was supposed that originally the word taboo did not
yet mean holy and unclean, but signified something
demonic, something which may not be touched, thus
emphasizing a characteristic common to both extremes
of the later conception; this persistent common trait
proves, however, that an original correspondence
existed between what was holy and what was unclean,
which only later became differentiated. i

In contrast to this, our điscussion readily shows that
the double meaning in question belonged to the word 」

nm

TOTEM AND TABOO ゅ
taboo from the very beginning, and that it serves to |
| designate a definite ambivalence as well as everything
which has come into existence on the basis of this
ambivalence. Taboo is itself an ambivalent word, and
by way of supplement we may add that the established
| meaning of this word might of itself have allowed us to
| guess what we have found as the result of extensive in-
vestigation, namely, that the taboo prohibition is to
|| be explained as the result of an emotional ambivalence.
A study of the oldest languages has taught us that at —
one time there were many such words which included
| their own contrasts so that they were in a certain sense
mbivalent, though perhaps not exactly in the same
sense as the word taboo: Slight vocal modifications
of this primitive word containing two opposite mean-
ings later served to create a separate linguistic expression
for the two opposites originally united in one word.
The word taboo has had a different fate; with the
diminished importance of the ambivalence which it
connotes it has itself disappeared, or rather, the words
analogous to it have vanished from the vocabulary. In
a later connection I hope to be able to show that a
tangible historic change is probably concealed behind
| the fate of this conception; that the word at first was
associated with definite human relations which were
characterized by great emotional ambivalence from
which it expanded to other analogous relations.

+ Compare my article on Abel's Gegensinn der Urworte in the
| Jahrbuch für Psychoanalytische und Psychopathologische For
- sehungen, Bd. TL, 1910.
112

'ABOO AND THE AMBIVALENCE OF EMOTION:
Unless we are mistaken, the understanding of taboo
also throws light upon the nature and origin of con-
science. Withoutstretchingideas we can speak of a taboo
conscience and a taboo sense of guilt after the violation
of a taboo. Taboo conscience is probably the oldest
form in which we meet the phenomenon of conscience.
For what is “ conscience ” ? According to linguistic
testimony it belongs to what we know most surely; in
some languages its meaning is hardly to be distinguished
from consciousness.

Conscience is the inner perception of objections to
definite wish impulses that exist in us; but the emphasis
is put upon the fact that this rejection does not have to
depend on anything else, that it is sure of itself. This
becomes even plainer in the case of a guilty conscience,
where we become aware of the inner condemnation of
such acts which realized some of our definite wish im-
pulses. Confirmation seems superfluous here; who-
ever has a conscience must feel in himself the justifica-
tion of the condemnation, and the reproach for the
accomplished action. But this same character is
evinced by the attitude of savages towards taboo.
Taboo is a command of conscience, the violation of

. which causes a terrible sense of guilt which is as self-

evident as its origin is unknown."

2 It is an interesting parallel that the sense of guilt resulting
from the violation of a taboo is in no way diminished if the
violation took place unwittingly (see examples above), and that
even in the Greek myth the guilt of Oedipus is not cancelled by
the fact that it was incurred without his knowledge and will and
even against them.

113

TOTEM AND TABOO

Tt is therefore probable that conscience also originates
on the basis of an ambivalent feeling from quite definite
human relations which contain this ambivalence. It
probably originates under conditions which are in force
both for taboo and the compulsion neurosis, that is, one
component of the two contrasting feelings is uncon-
scious and is kept repressed by the compulsive domina-
tion of the other component. This is confirmed by
many things which we have learned from our analysis
of neurosis. In the first place the character of com-
pulsion neurotics shows a predominant trait of painful
conscientiousness which is a symptom of reaction
against the temptation which Turks in the unconscious,
and which develops into the highest degrees of guilty
conscience as their illness grows worse. Indeed, one
may venture the assertion that if the origin of guilty
conscience could not be discovered through compulsion
neurotic patients, there would be no prospect of ever
discovering it. This task is successfully solved in the
case of the individual neurotic, and we are confident of
finding a similar solution in the case of races.

In the second place we cannot help noticing that the

sense of guilt contains much of the nature of anxiety;
without hesitation it may be described as conscience
phobia.” But fear points to unconscious sources.
The psychology of the neuroses taught us that when
wish feelings undergo repression their libido becomes
transformed into anxiety. In addition we must bear in
mind that the sense of guilt also contains something
unknown and unconscious, namely the motivation for
(né

i

TABOO AND THE AMBIVALEN( OF EMOTIONS
the rejection. The character of anxiety in the sense of
guilt corresponds to this unknown quantity.

If taboo expresses itself mainly in prohibitions it may
well be considered self-evident, without remote proof
from the analogy with neurosis, that it is based on 2
positive, desireful impulse. For what nobody desires
to do does not have to be forbidden, and certainly
whatever is expressly forbidden must be an object of
desire. If we applied this plausible theory to primitive
races we would have to conclude that among their
strongest temptations were desires to kill their kings
and priests, to commit incest, to abuse their dead and
thelike. That is not very probable. And if we should
apply the same theory to those cases in which we our-
selves seem to hear the voice of conscience most clearly
we would arouse the greatest contradiction. For there
we would assert with the utmost certainty that we did
not feel the slightest temptation to violate any of these
commandments, as for example, the commandment:
Thou shalt not kill, and that we felt nothing but repug-
nance at the very idea.

But if we grant the testimony of our conscience the
importance it claims, then the prohibition—the taboo
as well as our moral prohibitions —becomes superfluous,
while the existence of a conscience, in turn, remains un-
explained and the connection between conscience,
taboo and neurosis disappears. The net result of this
would then be our present state of understanding unless
we view the problem psychoanalytically.

But if we take into account the following results of

115

TOTEM AND TABOO
psychoanalysis, our understanding of the problem is
greatly advanced. The analysis of dreams of normal
individuals has shown that our own temptation to kill
others is stronger and more frequent than we had sus-
pected, and that it produces psychic effects even where
it does not reveal itself to our consciousness. And
when we have learnt that the obsessive rules of certain
neurotics are nothing but measures of self-reassurance
and self-punishment erected against the reinforced im-
pulse to commit murder, we can return with fresh
appreciation to our previous hypothesis that every pro-
‘hibition must conceal a desire. We can then assume
that this desire to murder actually exists and that the
taboo as well as the moral prohibition are psychologic-
ally by no means superfluous but are, on the contrary,
explained and justified through our ambivalent attitude
towards the impulse to slay.

The nature of this ambivalent relation so often em-
phasized as fundamental, namely, that the positive
underlying desire is unconscious, opens the possibility
of showing further connections and explaining further
problems. The psychic processes in the unconscious
are not entirely identical with those known to us from
our conscious psychic life, but have the benefit of cer-

. tain notable liberties of which the latter are deprived.
An unconscious impulse need not have originated
where we find it expressed, it can spring from an en-

_ tirely different place and may originally have referred
to other persons and relations, but through the mechan-
ism of displacement it reaches the point where it comes

116

ABOO AND THE AMBIVA 1
3 оне notice. Thanks to the indestruetibility of zl |
conscious processes and their inaccessibility to correc-
tion, the impulse may be saved over from earlier times
to which it was adapted to later periods and conditions
in which its manifestations must necessarily seem
foreign. These are all only hints, but a careful elabora-
tion of them would show how important they may
become for the understanding of the development of
civilization.

In closing these discussions we do not want to neglect
to make an observation that will be of use for later in-
vestigations. Even if we insist upon the essential simi-
larity between taboo and moral prohibitions we do not
dispute that a psychological difference must exist

| between them. A change in the relations of the funda-
mental ambivalence can be the only reason why the |
prohibition no longer appears in the form of a taboo. .

In the analytical consideration of taboo phenomena
we have hitherto allowed ourselves to be guided by their
demonstrable agreements with compulsion neurosis;
but as taboo is not a neurosis but a social creation, we
are also confronted with the task of showing wherein
lies the essential difference between the neurosis and a
product of culture like the taboo.

Here again I will take a single fact as my starting-
point. Primitive races fear a punishment for the viola-
tion of a taboo, usually a serious disease or, death,
This punishment threatens only him who has been |
guilty of the violation. It is different with the compul- |
sion neurosis. If thc patient wants to do something,

17 E

that is forbidden to him he does not fear punishment for !
| himself, but for another person. This person is usually
. indefinite, but, by means of analysis, is easily recog-
— nized as someone very near and dear to the patient.
| The neurotic therefore acts as if he were altruistic, while
| primitive man seems egotistical. Only if retribution
| fails to overtake the taboo violator spontaneously does
| a collective feeling awaken among savages that they are
| all threatened through the sacrilege, and they hasten to
.. inflict the omitted punishment themselves. It is easy
for us to explain the mechanism of this solidarity. Tt
- is a question of fear of the contagious example, the

temptation to imitate, that is to say, of the capacity of

‘the taboo to infect. If someone has succeeded in

satisfying the repressed desire, the same desire must

| manifest itself in all his companions ; hence, in order to
| «keep down this temptation, this envied individual must
| be despoiled of thc fruit of his daring. Not infre-
— quently the punishment gives the executors themselves

E an opportunity to commit the same sacrilegious act by

| justifying it as an expiation. This is really one of the
fundamentals of the human code of punishment which
rightly presumes the same forbidden impulses in the
criminal and in the members of society who avenge his
offence.

Psychoanalysis here confirms what the pious were
wont to say, that we are all miserable sinners. How
then shall we explain the unexpected nobility of the

neurosis which fears nothing for itself and everything
- for the beloved person? Psychoanalytic investigation
118

shows that this nobility is not primary. Originally,

that is to say at the beginning of the discase, the threat
of punishment pertained to one’s own person; in every
case the fear was for one’s own life; the fear of death
being only later displaced upon another beloved person.
The process is somewhat complicated but we have a
complete grasp of it. An evil impulse—a death wish—
towards the beloved person is always at the basis of the
formation of a prohibition. This is repressed through
a prohibition, and the prohibition is connected with a
certain act which by displacement usually substitutes
the hostile for the beloved person, and the execution of
this act is threatened with the penalty of death. But
the process goes farther and the original wish for the
death of the beloved other person is then replaced by
fear for his death. The tender altruistic trait of the
neurosis therefore merely compensates for the opposite
attitude of brutal egotism which is at the basis of it.
If we designate as social those emotional impulses which
are determined through regard for another person who
is not taken as a sexual object, we can emphasize the
withdrawal of these social factors as an essential feature
of the neurosis, which is later disguised through over-
compensation. ,

Without lingering over the origin of these social im-
pulses and their relation to other fundamental impulses
of man, we will bring out the second main characteristic
of the neurosis by means of another example. The
form in which taboo manifests itself has the greatest
similarity to the touching phobia of neurotics, the

119

i | TOTEM AND TABOO
Délire de toucher. As a matter of fact this neurosis is —
regularly concerned with the prohibition of sexual
touching, and psychoanalysis has quite generally shown
that the motive power which is deflected and displaced
in the neurosis is of sexual origin. In taboo the for-
bidden contact has evidently not only sexual significance
but rather the more general one of attack, of acquisition
and of personal assertion. If it is prohibited to touch
the chief or something that was in contact with him, it
means that an inhibition should be imposed upon the
same impulse which on other occasions expresses itself
in suspicious surveillance of the chief and even in phy-
sical ill-treatment of him before his coronation (see
above). Thus the preponderance of sexual components
of the impulse over the social componerits is the determin-
ing factor of the neurosis. But the social impulses them-
selves came into being through the union of egotistical
and erotic components into special entities.
From this single example of a comparison between
| taboo and compulsion neurosis it is already possible to
guess the relation between individual forms of the
| neurosis and the creations of culture, and in what
| respect the study of the psychology of the neurosis is
important for the understanding of the development of
culture. |
In one way the neuroses show a striking and far-
reaching correspondence with the great social produc-
tions of art, religion and philosophy, while again they
seem like distortions of them. We may say that
“ is a caricature of an artistic creation, a compul-

|
|

120

TABOO AND THE AMBIVALENCE OF EMOTIONS
sion neurosis, a caricature of a religion, and a paranoiac |
delusion a caricature of a philosophic system. In the -
last analysis this deviation goes back to the fact that
the neuroses are asocial formations ; they seek to accom-
plish by private means what arose in society through |
collective labour. In analysing the impulse of the
heuroses one learns that motive powers of sexual origin
exercise the determining influence in them, while the
corresponding cultural creations rest upon social im-
pulses and on such as have issued from the combination
of egotistical and sexual components. It seems that
the sexual need is not capable of uniting men in the
same way as the demands of self-preservation ; sexual |
satisfaction is in the first place the private concern of
the individual.

Genetically the asocial nature of the neurosis springs
from its original tendency to flee from a dissatisfying
reality to a more pleasurable world of phantasy. This
real world which neurotics shun is dominated by the
society of human beings and by the institutions created
by them; the estrangement from reality is at the same
time a withdrawal from human companionship.

121