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IX

SYMPTOMATIC AND CHANCE ACTIONS

The actions described so far, in which we recognize the
execution of an unconscious intention, appeared as
disturbances of other unintended actions, and hid them-
selves under the pretext of awkwardness. Chance actions,
which we shall now discuss, differ from erroneously
carried out actions only in that they disdain the support
of a conscious intention and really need no pretext.
They appear independently and are accepted because one
does not credit them with any aim or purpose. We
execute them “without thinking anything of them,” “by
mere chance,” “just to keep the hands busy,” and we
feel confident that such information will be quite sufficient
should one inquire as to their significance. In order to
enjoy the advantage of this exceptional position these
actions which no longer claim awkwardness as an excuse
must fulfil certain conditions: they must not be striking,
and their effects must be insignificant.

I have collected a large number of such “chance actions”
from myself and others, and after thoroughly investigating
the individual examples, I believe that the name “symptom-
atic actions” is more suitable. They give expression
to something which the actor himself does not suspect in
them, and which as a rule he has no intention of imparting
to others, but aims to keep to himself. Like the other
phenomena considered so far, they thus play the part of
symptoms.

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The richest output of such chance or symptomatic
actions is above all obtained in the psychoanalytic treat-
ment of neurotics. I cannot deny myself the pleasure of
showing by two examples of this nature how far and how
delicately the determination of these plain occurrences
are swayed by unconscious thoughts. The line of demar-
cation between the symptomatic actions and the erron-
eously carried out actions is so indefinite that I could
have disposed of these examples in the preceding chapter.

(a) During the analysis a young, woman reproduced
this idea which suddenly occurred to her. Yesterday
while cutting her nails “she had cut into the flesh while
engaged in trimming the cuticle.” This is of so little
interest that we ask in astonishment why it is at all
remembered and mentioned, and therefore come to the
conclusion that we deal with a symptomatic action. It
was really the finger upon which the wedding-ring is
worn which was injured through this slight awkwardness.
It happened, moreover, on her wedding-day, which thus
gives to the injury of the delicate skin a very definite and
easily guessed meaning. At the same time she also related
a dream which alluded to the awkwardness of her husband
and her anesthesia as a woman. But why did she injure
the ring finger of her left hand when the wedding-ring is
worn on the right? Her husband is a jurist, a “Doctor
of Laws” (Doktor der Rechte, literally a Doctor of Rights),
and her secret affection as a girl belonged to a physician
who was jokingly called Doktor der Linke (literally Doctor
of Left). Incidentally a left-handed marriage has a
definite meaning.

(b) A single young woman relates: “Yesterday, quite
unintentionally, I tore a hundred-dollar note in two
pieces and gave half to a woman who was visiting me. Is

153

that, too, a symptomatic action?” After closer investiga-
tion the matter of the hundred-dollar note elicited the
following associations: She dedicated a part of her time
and her fortune to charitable work. Together with
another woman she was taking care of the rearing of an
orphan. The hundred dollars was the contribution sent
her by that woman, which she enclosed in an envelope
and provisionally deposited on her writing-desk.
The visitor was a prominent woman with whom she
was associated in another act of charity. This woman
wished to note the names of a number of persons to
whom she could apply for charitable aid. There was no
paper, so my patient grasped the envelope from her desk,
and without thinking of its contents tore it in two pieces,
one of which she kept, in order to have a duplicate list
of names, and gave the other to her visitor.
Note the harmlessness of this aimless occurrence. It
is known that a hundred-dollar note suffers no loss in
value when it is torn, provided all the pieces are produced.
That the woman would not throw away the piece of
paper was assumed by the importance of the names on it,
and there was just as little doubt that she would return
the valuable content as soon as she noticed it.
But to what unconscious thought should this chance
action, which was made possible through forgetfulness,
give expression? The visitor in this case had a very
definite relation to my patient and myself. It was she who
at one time had recommended me as physician to the
suffering girl, and if I am not mistaken my patient con-
sidered herself indebted for this advice. Should this
halved hundred-dollar note perhaps represent a fee for
her mediation? That still remained enigmatic.
But other material was added to this beginning. Several

154

days before a woman mediator of a different sort had
inquired of a relative whether the gracious young lady
wished to make the acquaintance of a certain gentleman,
and that morning, some hours before the woman’s visit,
the wooing letter of the suitor arrived, giving occasion for
much mirth. When therefore the visitor opened the
conversation with inquiries regarding the health of my
patient, the latter could well have thought: “You certainly
found me the right doctor, but if you could assist me in
obtaining the right husband (and a child) I should be still
more grateful.”

Both mediators became fused into one in this repressed,
thought, and she handed the visitor the fee which her
fantasy was ready to give the other. This resolution
became perfectly convincing when I add that I had told
her of such chance or symptomatic actions only the
previous evening. She then took advantage of the next
occasion to produce an analogous action.

We can undertake a grouping of these extremely
frequent chance and symptomatic actions according to
their occurrence as habitual, regular under certain cir-
cumstances, and as isolated ones. The first group (such
as playing with the watch-chain, fingering one’s beard,
and so on), which can almost serve as a characteristic of
the person concerned, is related to the numerous tic
movements, and certainly deserves to be dealt with in
connection with the latter. In the second group I place
the playing with one’s cane, the scribbling with one’s
pencil, the jingling of coins in one’s pocket, kneading
dough and other plastic materials, all sorts of handling of
one’s clothing, and many other actions of the same order.

These playful occupations during psychic treatment
regularly conceal sense and meaning to which other

155

expression is denied. Generally the person in question
knows nothing about it; he is unaware whether he is
doing the same thing or whether he has imitated certain
modifications in his customary playing, and he also fails to
see or hear the effects of these actions. For example, he
does not hear the noise which is produced by the jingling
of coins, and he is astonished and incredulous when his
attention is called to it. Of equal significance to the
physician, and worthy of his observation, is everything
that one does with his clothing often without noticing it.
Every change in the customary attire, every little negli-
gence, such as an unfastened button, every trace of
exposure means to express something that the wearer of
the apparel does not wish to say directly, usually he is
entirely unconscious of it.

The interpretation of these trifling chance actions, as
well as the proof for their interpretation, can be demon-
strated every time with sufficient certainty from the
surrounding circumstances during the treatment, from
the themes under discussion, and from the ideas that
come to the surface when attention is directed to the
seeming accident. Because of this connection I will
refrain from supporting my assertions by reporting
examples with their analyses; but I mention these matters
because I believe that they have the same meaning in
normal persons as in my patients.

I cannot, however, refrain from showing by at least
one example how closely an habitually accomplished
symbolic action may be connected with the most intimate
and important part of the life of a normal individual.¹⁾
“As Professor Freud has taught us, the symbolism in

¹⁾“Beitrag zur Symbolik im Alltag von Ernest Jones,”
Zentralb. f. Psychoanalyse, i. 3, 1911.

156

the infantile life of the normal plays a greater role than
was expected from earlier psychoanalytic experiences. In
view of this the following brief analysis may be of general
interest, especially on account of its medical aspects.
“A doctor on rearranging his furniture in a new house
came across a straight, wooden) stethoscope, and, after
pausing to decide where he should put it, was impelled
to place it on the side of his writing-
desk in such a position
that it stood exactly between his chair and the one reserved
for his patients. The act in itself was certainly odd, for in
the first place the straight stethoscope served no purpose,
as he invariably used a binaural one; and in the second
place all his medical apparatus and instruments were
always kept in drawers, with the sole exception of this
one. However, he gave no thought to the matter until
one day it was brought to his notice by a patient who had
never seen a wooden stethoscope, askinghim what it was.
On being told, she asked why he kept it there. He an-
swered in an offhand way that the place was as good as
any other. This, however, started him thinking, and he
wondered whether there had been an unconscious motive
in his action. Being interested in the psychoanalytic
method, he asked me to investigate the matter.
“The first memory that occurred to him was the
fact that when a medical student he had been struck by
the habit his hospital interne had of always carrying in
his hand a wooden stethoscope on his ward visits, although
he never used it. He greatly admired this interne, and
was much attached to him. Later on, when he himself
became an interne he contracted the same habit, and
would feel very uncomfortable if by mistake he left the
room without having the instrument to swing in his hand.
The aimlessness of the habit was shown, not only by the

157

fact that the only stethoscope he ever used was a binaural
one, which he carried in his pocket, but also in that it was
continued when he was a surgical interne and never
needed any stethoscope, at all.

“From this it was evident that the idea of the instru-
ment in question had in some way or other become invested
with a greater psychic significance than normally
belongs to it—in other words, that to the subject it stood
for more than it does for other people. The idea must
have got unconsciously associated with some other one,
which it symbolized, and from which it derived its
additional fulness of meaning. I will forestall the rest of
the analysis by saying what this secondary idea was—
namely, a phallic one; the way in which this curious
association had been formed will presently be related.
The discomfort he experienced in hospital on missing the
instrument, and the relief and assurance the presence of
it gave him, was related to what is known as a ‘castration-
complex’—namely, a childhood fear, often continued in
a disguised form into adult life, lest a private part of his
body should be taken away from him, just as playthings so
often were. The fear was due to paternal threats that it
would be cut off if he were not a good boy, particularly
in a certain direction. This is a very common complex,
and accounts for a great deal of general nervousness and
lack of confidence in later years.

“Then came a number of childhood memories relating
to his family doctor. He had been strongly attached to
this doctor as a child, and during the analysis long-buried
memories were recovered of a double phantasy he had in
his fourth year concerning the birth of a younger sister—
namely, that she was the child (1) of himself and his
mother, the father being relegated to the background,

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and (2) of the doctor and himself; in this he thus played
both a masculine and feminine part.¹⁾ At the time, when
his curiosity was being aroused by the event, he could not
help noticing the prominent share taken by the doctor
in the proceedings, and the subordinate position occupied
by the father: the significance of this for his later life will
presently be pointed out.

“The stethoscope association was formed through
many connections. In the first place, the physical appear-
ance of the instrument—a straight, rigid, hollow tube,
having a small bulbous summit at one extremity and a
broad base at the other—and the fact of its being the
essential part of the medical paraphernalia, the instrument
with which the doctor performed his magical and interest-
ing feats, were matters that attracted his boyish attention.
He had had his chest repeatedly examined by the doctor
at the age of six, and distinctly recollected the volup-
tuous sensation of feeling the latter’s head near him
pressing the wooden stethoscope into his chest, and of
the rhythmic to-and-fro respiratory movement. He had
been struck by the doctor’s habit of carrying his stethos-
cope inside his hat; he found it interesting that the doctor
should carry his chief instrument concealed about his
person, always handy when he went to see patients, and
that he only had to take off his hat (i.e. a part of his
clothing) and ‘pull it out.’ At the age of eight he was
impressed by being told by an older boy that it was the
doctor’s custom to get into bed with his women patients.
It is certain that the doctor, who was young and hand-
some, was extremely popular among the women of the

¹⁾Psychoanalytic research, with the penetration of infantile
amnesia, has shown that this apparent precocity is a less ab-
normal occurrence than was previously supposed.

159

neighbourhood, including the subject’s own mother.
The doctor and his ‘instrument’ were therefore the
objects of great interest throughout his boyhood.

“It is probable that, as in many other cases, unconscious
identification with the family doctor had been a main
motive in determining the subject’s choice of profession.
It was here doubly conditioned (1) by the superiority of
the doctor on certain interesting occasions to the father,
of whom the subject was very jealous, and (2) by the
doctor’s knowledge of forbidden topics¹ and his oppor-
tunity for illicit indulgence. The subject admitted that he
had on several occasions experienced erotic temptations
in regard to his women patients; he had twice fallen in
love with one, and finally had married one.

“The next memory was of a dream, plainly of a homo-
sexual-masochistic nature; in it a man, who proved to be a
replacement figure of the family doctor, attacked the
subject with a ‘sword.’ The idea of a sword, as is so
frequently the case in dreams, represented the same idea
that was mentioned above to be associated with that of a
wooden stethoscope, the thought of a ‘sword’ reminded
the subject of the passage in the Nibelung Saga, where
Sigurd sleeps with his naked sword (Gram) between him
and Brunhilda, an incident that had always greatly struck
his imagination.

“The meaning of the symptomatic act now at last
became clear. The subject had placed his wooden stethos-
cope between him and his patients, just as Sigurd had
placed his sword (an equivalent symbol) between him
and the maiden he was not to touch. The act was a
compromise-formation; it served both to gratify in his

¹The term “medical questions” is a common periphrasis for
“sexual questions.”

160

imagination the repressed wish to enter into nearer
relations with an attractive patient (interposition of
phallus), and at the same time to remind him that this
wish was not to become a reality (interposition of sword).
It was, so to speak, a charm against yielding to temptation.
“I might add that the following passage from Lord
Lytton’s Richelieu made a great impression on the boy:–

“Beneath the rule of men entirely great
The pen is mightier than the sword.”¹

and that he became a prolific writer and uses an unusually
large fountain-pen. When I asked him what need he had,
of this pen, he replied in a characteristic manner, ‘I have
so much to express’.

“This analysis again reminds us of the profound views
that are afforded us in the psychic life through the ‘harm-
less’ and ‘senseless’ actions, and how early in life the
tendency to symbolization develops.”

I can also relate an experience from my psychothera-
peutic practice in which the hand, playing with a mass of
breadcrumbs, gave evidence of an eloquent declaration.
My patient was a boy not yet thirteen years of age, who
had been very hysterical for two years. I finally took him
for psychoanalytic treatment, after a lengthy stay at a
hydrotherapeutic institution had proved futile. My
supposition was that he must have had sexual experiences,
and that, corresponding to his age, he had been troubled
by sexual questions; but I was cautious about helping him
with explanations as I wished to test further my assump-
tion. I was therefore curious as to the manner in which
the desired material would evince itself in him.

One day it struck me that he was rolling something

¹Cf. Oldham’s “I wear my pen as others do their sword.”

161

between the fingers of his right hand; he would thrust it
into his pocket and there continue playing with it, then
would draw it out again, and so on. I did not ask what
he had in his hand; but as he suddenly opened his hand
he showed it to me. It was bread-
crumbs kneaded into a
mass. At the next session he brought along a mass, and
in the course of our conversation, although his eyes were
closed, modelled a figure with an incredible rapidity
which excited my interest. Without doubt it was a manikin
like the crudest prehistoric idols, with a head, two arms,
two legs, and an appendage between the legs which he
drew out to a long point.

This was scarcely completed when he kneaded the
manikin together again: later he allowed it to remain,
but modelled an identical appendage on the flat of the
back and on other parts in order to veil the meaning of
the first. I wished to show him that I had understood
him, but at the same time I wanted to deprive him of the
evasion that he had thought of nothing while actively
forming these figures. With this intention I suddenly
asked him whether he remembered the story of the
Roman king who gave his son’s envoy a pantomimic
answer in his garden.

The boy did not wish to recall what he must have
learned so much more recently than I. He asked if that
was the story of the slave on whose bald skull the answer
was written. I told him, “No, that belonged to Greek
history,” and related the following: “King Tarquinius
Superbus had induced his son Sextus to steal into a
Latin city. The son, who had later obtained a foothold
in the city, sent a messenger to the king asking what
steps he should take next. The king gave no answer, but
went into his garden, had the question repeated there,

162

and silently struck off the heads of the largest and most
beautiful poppies. All that the messenger could do was
to report this to Sextus, who understood his father, and
caused the most distinguished citizens of the city to be
removed by assassination.”

While I was speaking the boy stopped kneading, and
as I was relating what the king did in his garden, I noticed
that at the words “silently struck” he tore off the head of
the manikin with a movement as quick as lightning. He
therefore understood me, and showed that he was also
understood by me. Now I could question him directly,
and gave him the information that he desired, and in a,
short time the neurosis came to an end.

The symptomatic actions which we observe in in-
exhaustible abundance in healthy as well as in nervous
people are worthy of our interest for more than one
reason. To the physician they often serve as valuable
indications for orienting himself in new or unfamiliar
conditions; to the keen observer they often betray every-
thing, occasionally even more than he cares to know. He
who is familiar with its application sometimes feels like
King Solomon, who, according to the Oriental legend,
understood the language of animals.

One day I was to examine a strange young man at his
mother’s home. As he came towards me I was attracted
by a large stain on his trousers, which by its peculiar stiff
edges I recognized as one produced by albumen. After a
moment’s embarrassment the young man excused this
stain by remarking that he was hoarse and therefore drank
a raw egg, and that some of the slippery white of the egg
had probably fallen on his clothes. To confirm his state-
ments he showed the eggshell which could still be seen
on a small plate in the room. The suspicious spot was

163

thus explained in this harmless way; but as his mother
left us alone I thanked him for having so greatly facilitated
the diagnosis for me, and without further procedure I
took as the topic of our discussion his confession that he
was suffering from the effects of masturbation.

Another time I called on a woman as rich as she was
miserly and foolish, who was in the habit of giving the
physician the task of working his way through a heap of
her complaints before he could reach the simple cause of
her condition. As I entered she was sitting at a small table
engaged in arranging silver dollars^*in little piles: as she
,rose she tumbled some of the pieces of money to the
floor. I helped her pick them up, but interrupted the
recitation of her misery by remarking: “Has your good
son-in-law been spending so much of your money again?”
She bitterly denied this, only to relate a few moments
later the lamentable story of the aggravation caused by
her son-in-law’s extravagances. And she has not sent
for me since. I cannot maintain that one always makes
friends of those to whom he tells the meaning of their
symptomatic actions.

He who observes his fellow-
men while at table will be
able to verify in them the nicest and most instructive
symptomatic actions.

Dr. Hans Sachs relates the following:–

“I happened to be present when an elderly couple
related to me partook of their supper. The lady had
stomach-
trouble and was forced-
to follow a strict diet. A
roast was put before the husband, and he requested his
wife, who was not allowed to partake of this food, to give
him the mustard. The wife opened the closet and took
out the small bottle of stomach drops, and placed it on
the table before her husband. Between the barrel-
shaped

164

mustard-glass and the small drop-bottle there was
naturally no similarity through which the mishandling
could be explained; yet the wife only noticed the mistake
after her husband laughingly called her attention to it.
The sense of this symptomatic action needs no explana-
tion.”

For an excellent example of this kind which was very
skilfully utilized by the observer, I am indebted to Dr.
Bernh. Dattner (Vienna):—

“I dined in a restaurant with my colleague H., a doctor
of philosophy. He spoke about the injustice done to
probationary students, and added that even before he
finished his studies he was placed as secretary to the
ambassador, or rather the extraordinary plenipotentiary
Minister to Chili. ‘But,’ he added, ‘the minister was
afterwards transferred, and I did not make any effort to
meet the newly appointed.’ While uttering the last
sentence he was lifting a piece of pie to his mouth, but he
let it drop as if out of awkwardness. I immediately
grasped the hidden sense of this symptomatic action, and
remarked to my colleague, who was unacquainted with
psychoanalysis, ‘You really allowed a very choice morsel
to slip from you.’ He did not realize, however, that my
words could equally refer to his symptomatic action, and
he repeated the same words I uttered with a peculiarly
agreeable and surprising vividness, as if I had actually
taken the words from his mouth: ‘It was really a very
choice morsel that I allowed to get away from me.’ He
then followed this remark with a detailed description of
his clumsiness, which has cost him this very remunerative
position.

“The sense of this symbolic action becomes clearer if
we remember that my colleague had scruples about telling

165

me, almost a perfect stranger, concerning his precarious
material situation, and his repressed thought took on the
mask of symptomatic action which expressed symbolically
what was meant to be concealed, and the speaker thus got
relief from his unconscious.”

That the taking away ‘or taking along things without
any apparent intention may prove to be senseful may be
shown by the following examples.

1. Dr. B. Dattner relates: “An acquaintance paid the
first after-marriage visit ‘to a highly regarded lady friend
of his youth. He told me of this visit and expressed his
surprise at the fact that he failed in his resolution to visit
with her only a short time, and then reported to me
a rather strange faulty act which happened to him there.
“The husband of this friend, who took part in the
conversation, was looking for a box of matches which he
was sure was or-
the table when he came there. My
acquaintance, too, looked through his pockets to ascertain
whether he had not put it in his pocket, but without avail.
Some time later he actually found it in his pocket, and
was struck by the fact that there was only one match in
the box.
“A dream a few days later showing the box symbolism
in reference to the friend of his youth confirmed my
explanation. With the symptomatic action my acquain-
tance meant to announce his priority-right and the
exclusiveness of his possession (it contained only one
match).”

Dr. Hans Sachs relates the following: “Our cook is
very fond of a certain kind of pie. There is no possible
doubt about this, as it is the only kind of pastry which she
always prepares well. One Sunday she brought this pie
to the table, took it off the pie-
plate, and proceeded to

166

remove the dishes used in the former course, but on the
top of this pile she placed the pie, and disappeared with
it into the kitchen. We first thought that she had some-
thing to improve on the pie, but as she failed to appear
my wife rang the bell and asked, ‘Betty, what happened
to the pie?’ to which the girl answered, without compre-
hending the question, ‘How is that?’ We had to call her
attention to the fact that she carried the pie back to the
kitchen. She had put it on the pile of dishes, taken it out,
and put it away ‘without noticing it.’

“The next day, when we were about to consume the
rest of the pie, my wife noticed that there was as much of
it as we had left the day before—that is, the girl had
disdained to eat the portion of her favourite dish which
was rightly hers. Questioned why she did not eat the pie,
she answered, somewhat embarrassed, that she did not
care for it.

“The infantile attitude is distinctly noticeable on both
occasions—first the childish insatiableness in refusing to
share with anybody the object of her wishes, then the
reaction of spite which is just as childish: ‘If you grudge
it to me, keep it for yourself, I want nothing of it.’ ”

Chance or symptomatic actions occurring in affairs of
married life have often a most serious significance, and
could lead those who do not concern themselves with the
psychology of the unconscious to a belief in omens. It is
not an auspicious beginning if a young woman loses her
wedding-ring on her wedding-tour, even if it were only
mislaid and soon found.

I know a woman, now divorced, who in the manage-
ment of her business affairs frequently signed her maiden
name many years before she actually resumed it.

Once I was the guest of a newly married couple and

167

heard the young woman laughingly relate her latest
experience, how, on the day succeeding her return from
the wedding tour she had sought out her single sister in
order to go shopping with her as in former times, while
her husband was attending business. Suddenly she
noticed a man on the opposite side of the street; nudging
her sister she said, “Why, that is surely Mr. L.” She
forgot that for some weeks this man had been her husband.

I was chilled at this tale, but I did not dare draw
any inferences. The little story came back to me only
several years later, after this marriage had ended most
unhappily.

The following observation, which could as well have
found a place among the examples of forgetting, was
taken from a noteworthy work published in French by
A. Maeder.¹⁾

“Une dame nous racontait récemment qu’elle avait
oublie d’essayer sa robe de poce et s’en souvint la veille
du mariage, à huit heur du soir, la couturiere désespérait
de voir sa cliente. Ce détail suffit à montrer que la fiancée
ne se sentait pas très hereuse de porter une robe d’épouse,
elle cherchait à oublier cette representation pénible. Elle
est aujourd’hui … divorcée.”

A friend who has learned to observe signs related to me
that the great actress Eleanora Duse introduces a sympto-
matic action into one of her rôles which shows very
nicely from what depth she draws her acting. It is a drama
dealing with adultery; she has just been discussing with
her husband and now stands soliloquizing before the
seducer makes his appearance. During this short interval
she plays with her wedding-ring, she pulls it off, replaces
it, pulls it off again, and so on. This action is a direct
expression of her wavering between fidelity and infidelity
to her husband.

¹⁾Maeder, “Contribution a la psychologie de la vie quoti-
dienne,” Arch. des psychologie, T. VI. 1906.

168

it, and finally takes it off again. She is now ready for the
other.

I know of an elderly man who, married a young girl,
and instead of starting at once on his wedding tour he
decided to spend the night in a hotel. Scarcely had they
reached the hotel, when he noticed with fright that he
was without his wallet, in which he had the entire sum of
money for the wedding tour; he must have mislaid or
lost it. He was still able to reach his servant by telephone;
the latter found the missing article in the coat discarded
for the travelling clothes and brought it to the hotel to
the waiting bridegroom, who had thus entered upon his
marriage without means.

It is consoling to think that the “losing of objects” by
people is merely an unsuspected extension of a symptom-
atic action, and is thus welcome at least to the secret
intention of the loser. Often it is ‘only’ an expression of
slight appreciation of the lost article, a secret dislike for
the same, or perhaps for the person from whom it came, or
the desire to lose this object was transferred to it from
other and more important objects through symbolic
association. The loss of valuable articles serves as an
expression of diverse feelings; it may either symbolically
represent a repressed thought—that is, it may bring back
a memory which one would rather’ not hear—or it may
represent a sacrifice to the obscure forces of fate, the
worship of which is not yet entirely extinct even with us.¹

¹ Here is another small collection of various symptomatic
actions in normal and neurotic persons. An elderly colleague
who does not like to lose at cards had to pay one evening a
large sum of money in consequence of his losses; he did this
without complaint, but with a peculiar constrained temper.
After his departure it was discovered that he had left at this
place practically everything he had with him, spectacles, cigar-

169

The following examples will illustrate these statements
concerning the losing of objects:–
Dr. B. Dattner states: “A colleague related to me that
he lost his steel pencil which he had had for over two
years, and which, on account of its superior quality, was
highly prized by him. Analysis elicited the following
facts: The day before he had received a very disagreeable
letter from his brother-in-law, the concluding sentence
of which read: ‘At present I have neither the desire nor
the time to assist you in your carelessness and laziness.’

case, and handkerchief. That would be readily translated into
the words: “You robbers, you have nicely plundered me.” A
man who suffers from occasional sexual impotence, which has
its origin in the intimacy of his infantile relations to his mother,
relates that he is in the habit of embellishing pamphlets and
notes with an S, the initial of his mother’s name. He cannot
bear the idea of having letters from home come in contact with
other unsanctified correspondence, and therefore finds it
necessary to keep the former separate. A young woman suddenly
flings open the door of the consulting-room while her predeces-
sor is still present. She excused herself on the ground of
“thoughtlessness”; it soon came to light that she demonstrated
her curiosity which caused her at an earlier time to intrude into
the bedroom of her parents. Girls who are proud of their
beautiful hair know so well how to manipulate combs and hair-
pins, that in the midst of conversation their hair becomes
loosened. During the treatment (in a reclining position) some
men scatter change from their pockets and thus pay for the
hour of treatment; the amount scattered is in proportion to
their estimation of the work. Whoever forgets articles in the
doctor’s office, such as eyeglasses, gloves, handbags, generally
indicates that he cannot tear himself away and is anxious to
return soon. Ernest Jones says: “One can almost measure the
success with which a physician is practising psychotherapy, for
instance, by the size of the collection of umbrellas, handkerchiefs,
purses, and so on, that he could make in a month. The slightest
habits and acts performed with a minimum of attention, such as
the winding of a clock before retiring to sleep, the putting out
of lights before leaving the room, and similar actions, are
occasionally subject to disturbances which clearly demonstrate
the influence of the unconscious complex, and what is thought
to be the strongest “habits.”

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The effect connected with this letter was so powerful that
the next day he promptly sacrificed the pencil which was
a present from this brother-in-law in order not to be
burdened with his favours.”

Brill reports the following example: “A doctor took
exception to the following statement in my book, ‘We
never lose what we really want’ (Psychoanalysis, its
Theories and Practical Application, p. 214).¹⁾ His wife,
who is very interested in psychologic subjects, read with
him the chapter on ‘Psychopathology of Everyday Life’;

In the journal Cænobium, Maeder relates about a hospital
physician who, on account of an important matter, desired to
get to the city that evening, although he was on duty and had
no right to leave the hospital. On his return he noticed to his
surprise that there was a light in his room. On leaving the
room he had forgotten to put it out, something that had never
happened before. But he soon grasped the motive of this
forgetting. The hospital superintendent who lived in the same
house must have concluded from the light in the room that he
was at home. A man overburdened with worries and subject to
occasional depressions assured me that he regularly forgot to
wind his watch on those evenings when life seemed too hard
and unfriendly. In this omission to wind his watch he symbol-
ically expressed that it was a matter of indifference to him
whether he lived to see the next day. Another man who was
personally unknown to me wrote: “Having been struck by a
terrible misfortune, life appeared so harsh and unsympathetic,
that I imagined that I had not sufficient strength to live to see the
next day. I then noticed that almost every day I forgot to wind
my watch, something that I never omitted before. I had been
in the habit of doing it regularly before retiring in an almost
mechanical and unconscious manner. It was only very seldom
that I thought of it, and that happened when I had something
important for the next day which held my interest. Should
this be considered a symptomatic action? I really cannot
explain it.” Whoever will take the trouble, like Jung (The
Psychology of Dementia Præcox, translated by Peterson and
Brill), or Maeder (“Une voie nouvelle en Psychologie—Freud
et son ecole,” Cænobium, Lugano, 1906), to pay attention to
melodies which one hums to himself aimlessly and uncon-
ciously, will regularly discover the relation of the melody’s
text to a theme which occupies the person at that time.

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they were both very much impressed with the novelty of
the ideas, and so on, and were very willing to accept most
of the statements. He could not, however, agree with the
above-given statement because, as he said to his wife, ‘I
surely did not wish to lose my knife.’ He referred to a
valuable knife given to him by his wife, which he highly
prized, the loss of which caused him much pain.

“It did not take his wife very long to discover the
solution for this loss in a manner to convince them both
of the accuracy of my statement. When she presented
him with this knife he was a bit loath to accept it. Al-
though he considered himself quite emancipated, he
nevertheless entertained some superstition about giving
or accepting a knife as a gift, because it is said that a knife
cuts friendship. He even remarked this to his wife, who
only laughed at his superstition. He had the knife for
years before it disappeared.

“Analysis brought out the fact that the disappearance
of the knife was directly connected with a period when
there were violent quarrels between himself and his wife,
which threatened to end in separation. They lived
happily together until his step-daughter (it was his second
marriage) came to live with them. His daughter was the
cause of many misunderstandings, and it was at the
height of these quarrels that he lost the knife.

“The unconscious activity is very nicely shown in this
symptomatic function. In spite of his apparent freedom
from superstition, he still unconsciously believed that a
donated knife may cut friendship between the persons
concerned. The losing of it was simply an unconscious
defence against losing his wife, and by sacrificing the
knife he made the superstitious ban impotent.”

In a lengthy discussion and with the aid of dream

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analysis¹⁾ Otto Rank made clear the sacrificial tendency
with its deep-reaching motivation. It must be said that
just such symptomatic actions often give us access to the
understanding of the intimate psychic life of the person.

Of the many isolated chance-actions, I will relate one
example which showed a deeper meaning even without
analysis. This example clearly’ explains the conditions
under which such symptoms may be produced most
casually, and also shows that an observation of practical
importance may be attached to it.’ During a summer tour
it happened that I had to wait several days at a certain
place for the arrival of my travelling companions. In the
meantime I made the acquaintance of a young man, who
also seemed lonely and was quite willing to join me. As
we lived at the same hotel it was quite natural that we
should take all our meals and our walks together.

On the afternoon of the third day he suddenly informed
me that he expected his wife to arrive on that evening’s
express train. My psychologic interest was now aroused,
as it had already struck me that morning that my com-
panion rejected’ my proposal to make a long excursion,
and in our short walk he objected to a certain path as too
steep and dangerous. During our afternoon walk he
suddenly thought that I must be hungry and insisted
that I should not delay my evening’s meal on his account,
that he would not sup before his wife’s arrival. I under-
stood the hint and seated myself at the table while he
went to the station.

The next morning we met in the foyer of the hotel.
He presented me to his wife, and added, “Of course,
you will breakfast with us?” I had to attend first to a

¹⁾‘Das Verlieren als Symptom-handlung,’ Zentralb. f.
Psychoanalyse, i. 10–II.

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small matter in the next street, but assured him that I
would return shortly. Later, as I entered the breakfast-
room, I noticed that the couple were at a small table near
the window, both seated on the same side of it. On the
opposite side there was only one chair, which was covered,
however, with a man’s large and heavy coat. I understood
well the meaning of this unintentional, none the less ex-
pressive, disposition of the coat. It meant this: “There is
no room for you here, you are superfluous now.”
The man did not notice that I remained standing
before the table, being unable to take the seat, but his
wife noticed it, and quickly nudged her husband and
whispered: “Why, you have covered the gentleman’s
place with your coat.”
These as well as other similar experiences have caused
me to think that the actions executed unintentionally
must inevitably become the source of misunderstanding
in human relations. The perpetrator of the act, who is
unaware of any associated intention, takes no account of
it, and does not hold himself responsible for it. On the
other hand, the second party, having regularly utilized
even such acts as those of his partner to draw conclusions
as to their purpose and meaning, recognizes more of the
stranger’s psychic processes than the latter is ready
either to admit or believe that he has imparted. He
becomes indignant when these conclusions drawn from
his symptomatic actions are held up to him; he declares
them baseless because he does not see any conscious
intention in their execution, and complains of being
misunderstood by the other. Close examination shows
that such misunderstandings are based on the fact that
the person is too fine an observer and understands too
much. The more “nervous” two persons are the more

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readily will they give each other cause for disputes, which
are based on the fact that one as definitely denies about
his own person what he is sure to accept about the other.
And this is, indeed, the punishment for the inner
dishonesty to which people grant expression under the
guise of “forgetting,” of erroneous actions and accidental
emotions, a feeling which they would do better to confess
to themselves and others when they can no longer control
it. As a matter of fact it can be generally affirmed that
every one is continually practising psychoanalysis on his
neighbours, and consequently learns to know them
better than each individual knows himself. The road
following the admonition γνῶθι σεαυτόν leads through
the study of one’s own apparently casual commissions and
omissions.