MISTAKES IN READING AND
WRITING

117

VI

MISTAKES IN READING AND WRITING

THAT the same view-points and observation
should hold true for mistakes in reading and
writing as for lapses in speech is not at all sur-
prising when one remembers the inner relation
of these functions. I shall here confine myself
to the reports of several carefully analysed
examples and shall make no attempt to include
all of the phenomena.

A. LAPSES IN READING.

(a) While looking over a number of the
Leipziger Illustrierten, which I was holding
obliquely, I read as the title of the front-page
picture, “A Wedding Celebration in the
Odyssey.” Astonished and with my attention
aroused, I moved the page into the proper
position only to read correctly, “A Wedding
Celebration in the Ostsee (Baltic Sea).” How
did this senseless mistake in reading come about?

Immediately my thoughts turned to a book
by Ruth, Experimental Investigations of “Music
Phantoms,” etc., with which I had recently been

118

Psychopathology of Everyday Life

much occupied, as it it closely touched the psycho-
logic problems that are of interest to me. The
author promised a work in the near future to
be called Analysis and Principles of Dream
Phenomena. No wonder that I, having just
published an Interpretation of Dreams, awaited
the appearance of this book with the most intense
interest. In Ruth’s work concerning music
phantoms I found an announcement in the begin-
ning of the table of contents of the detailed
inductive proof that the old Hellenic myths
and traditions originated mainly from slumber
and music phantoms, from dream phenomena and
from deliria. Thereupon I had immediately
plunged into the text in order to find out whether
he was also aware that the scene where Odysseus
appears before Nausicaa was based upon the
common dream of nakedness. One of my friends
called my attention to the clever passage in
G. Keller’s Grünem Heinrich, which explains
this episode in the Odyssey as an objective repre-
sentation of the dream of the mariner straying
far from home. I added to it the reference to
the exhibition dream of nakedness.¹

(b) A woman who is very anxious to get
children always reads storks instead of stocks.

(c) One day I received a letter which con-
tained very disturbing news. I immediately
called my wife and informed her that poor Mrs.

¹ The Interpretation of Dreams, p. 208.

119

Mistakes in Reading and Writing

Wm. H. was seriously ill and was given up
by the doctors. There must have been a false
ring to the words in which I expressed my
sympathy, as my wife grew suspicious, asked to
see the letter, and expressed her opinion that
it could not read as stated by me, because no
one calls the wife by the husband’s name. More-
over, the correspondent was well acquainted with
the Christian name of the woman concerned.
I defended my assertion obstinately and re-
ferred to the customary visiting-cards, on which
a woman designates herself by the Christian name
of her husband. I was finally compelled to take
up the letter, and, as a matter of fact, we read
therein “Poor W. M.” What is more, I had
even overlooked “Poor Dr. W. M.” My mistake
in reading signified a spasmodic effort, so to
speak, to turn the sad news from the man towards
the woman. The title between the adjective and
the name did not go well with my claim that the
woman must have been meant. That is why
it was omitted in the reading. The motive for
this falsifying was not that the woman was less
an object of my sympathy than the man, but
the fate of this poor man had excited my fears
regarding another and nearer person who, I was
aware, had the same disease.

(d) Both irritating and laughable is a lapse
in reading to which I am frequently subject when
I walk through the streets of a strange city during

120

Psychopathology of Everyday Life

my vacation. I then read antiquities on every
shop sign that shows the slightest resemblance
to the word; this displays the questing spirit
of the collector.

(e) In his important work ¹⁾ Bleuler relates:
“While reading I once had the intellectual
feeling of seeing my name two lines below. To
my astonishment I found only the words blood
corpuscles. Of the many thousands of lapses in
reading in the peripheral as well as in the central
field, of vision that I have analysed, this was the
most striking case. Whenever I imagined that I
saw my name, the word that induced this illusion
usually showed a greater resemblance to my
name than the word bloodcorpuscles. In most
cases all the letters of my name had to be close
together before I could commit such an error.
In this case, however, I could readily explain
the delusion of reference and the illusion. What
I had just read was the end of a statement con-
cerning a form of bad style in scientific works,
a tendency from which I am not entirely free.”

B. LAPSES IN WRITING.

(a) On a sheet of paper containing principally
short daily notes of business interest, I found,
to my surprise, the incorrect date, “Thursday,

¹⁾Bleuler, Affektivität, Suggestibilität, Paranoia, p. 121, Halle.
Marhold, 1906.

121

Mistakes in Reading and Writing

October 20th,” bracketed under the correct date
of the month of September. It was not difficult
to explain this anticipation as the expression of
a wish. A few days before I had returned fresh
from my vacation and felt ready for any amount
of professional work, but as yet there were few
patients. On my arrival I had found a letter
from a patient announcing her arrival on the
20th of October. As I wrote the same date
in September I may certainly have thought
“X. ought to be here already; what a pity
about that whole month!” and with this thought
I pushed the current date a month ahead. In
this case the disturbing thought can scarcely be
called unpleasant; therefore after noticing this
lapse in writing, I immediately knew the solution.
In the fall of the following year I experienced
an entirely analogous and similarly motivated
lapse in writing. E. Jones has made a study
of similar cases, and found that most mistakes
in writing dates are motivated.

(b) I received the proof sheets of my contri-
bution to the annual report on neurology and
psychiatry, and I was naturally obliged to review
with special care the names of authors, which,
because of the many different nationalities re-
presented, offer the greatest difficulties to the
compositor. As a matter of fact, I found some
strange-sounding names still in need of correc-
tion; but, oddly enough, the compositor had

122

Psychopathology of Everyday Life

corrected one single name in my manuscript,
and with very good reason. I had written
Buckrhard, which the compositor guessed to be
Burckhard. I had praised the treatise of this
obstetrician entitled The Influence of Birth on
the Origin of Infantile Paralysis, and I was
not conscious of the least enmity toward him.
But an author in Vienna, who had angered me
by an adverse criticism of my Traumdeutung,
bears the same name. It was as if in writing
the name Burckhard, meaning the obstetrician,
a wicked thought concerning the other B. had
obtruded itself. The twisting of the name, as
I have already stated in regard to lapses in
speech, often signifies a depreciation.¹⁾

(c) The following is seemingly a serious case of
lapsus calami, which it would be equally correct
to describe as an erroneously carried out action.
I intended to withdraw from the postal savings
bank the sum of 300 crowns, which I wished
to send to an absent relative to enable him to
take treatment at a watering-
place. I noted that
my account was 4,380 crowns, and I decided to
bring it down to the round sum of 4,000 crowns,

² A similar situation occurs in Julius Cæsar, iii. 3:

“Cinna. Truly, my name is Cinna.
“Burgher. Tear him to pieces! he is a conspirator.
“Cinna. I am Cinna the poet! not Cinna the conspirator.
“Burgher. No matter; his name is Cinna; tear the name
out of his heart and let him go.”

123

Mistakes in Reading and Writing

which was not to be touched in the near future.
After making out the regular cheque I suddenly
noticed that I had written not 380 crowns, as
I had intended, but exactly 438 crowns. I was
frightened at the untrustworthiness of my action.
I soon realized that my fear was groundless, as I
had not grown poorer than I was before. But
I had to reflect for quite a while in order to
discover what influence diverted me from my
first intention without making itself known to my
consciousness.

First I got on a wrong track: I subtracted
380 from 438, but after that I did not know what
to do with the difference. Finally an idea
occurred to me which showed me the true con-
nection. 438 is exactly 10 per cent. of the
entire account of 4,380 crowns! But the book-
seller, too, gives a 10 per cent. discount! I
recalled that a few days before I had selected
several books, in which I was no longer in-
terested, in order to offer them to the bookseller
for 300 crowns. He thought the price demanded
too high, but promised to give me a final answer
within the next few days. If he should accept
my first offer he would replace the exact sum
that I was to spend on the sufferer. There is no
doubt that I was sorry about this expenditure.
The emotion at the realization of my mistakes
can be more easily understood as a fear of
growing poor through such outlays. But both

124

Psychopathology of Everyday Life

the sorrow over this expense and the fear of
poverty connected with it were entirely foreign
to my consciousness; I did not regret this
expense when I promised the sum, and would
have laughed at the idea of any such underlying
motive. I should probably not have assigned
such feelings to myself had not my psycho-
analytic practice made me quite familiar with the
repressed elements of psychic life, and if I had
not had a dream a few days before which brought
forth the same solution.

(d) Although it is usually difficult to find the
person responsible for printers’ errors, the
psychologic mechanisms underlying them are
the same as in other mistakes. Typographical
errors also well demonstrate the fact that people
are not at all indifferent to such trivialities as
“mistakes,” and, judging by the indignant re-
actions of the parties concerned, one is forced
to the conclusion that mistakes are not treated
by the public at large as mere accidents. This
state of affairs is very well summed up in the
following editorial from the New York Times of
April 14, 1913. Not the least interesting are
the comments of the keen-
witted editor, who
seems to share our views:—

“A BLUNDER TRULY UNFORTUNATE.
“Typographical errors come only too fre-
quently from even the best-regulated newspaper

125

Mistakes in Reading and Writing

presses. They are always humiliating, often a
cause of anger, and occasionally dangerous, but
now and then they are distinctly amusing. This
latter quality they are most apt to have when
they are made in the office of a journalistic
neighbour, a fact that probably explains why we
can read with smiling composure an elaborate
editorial apology which appears in the Hartford
Courant.

“Its able political commentator tried the other
day to say that, unfortunately for Connecticut,
‘J. H. is no longer a Member of Congress.
Printer and proof-reader combined to deprive
the adverb of its negative particle.’ At least,
the able political commentator so declares, and
we wouldn’t question his veracity for the world;
but sorrowful experience has taught most of us
that it’s safer to get that sort of editorial dis-
claimer of responsibility into print before looking
up the copy, and perhaps—just perhaps—the
world-enlightener, who knows that he wrote
unfortunate, because that is what he intended
to write, didn’t rashly chance the discovery of
his own guilt before he convicted the composing-
room of it.

“Be that as it may, the meaning of the
sentence was cruelly changed, and a friend was
grieved or offended. Not so long ago a more
astonishing error than this one crept into a book
review of ours—a very solemn and scientific

126

Psychopathology of Everyday Life

book. It consisted of the substitution of the word
‘caribou’ for the word ‘carbon’ in a paragraph
dealing with the chemical composition of the
stars. In that case the writer’s fierce self-
excul
pation is at least highly plausible, as it seems
hardly possible that he wrote ‘caribou’ when
he intended to write ‘carbon,’ but even he
was cautious enough to make no deep inquiry
into the matter.”

(e) I cite the following case contributed by
Dr. W. Stekel, for the authenticity of which I
can vouch: “An almost unbelievable example
of miswriting and misreading occurred in the
editing of a widely circulated weekly. It con-
cerned an article of defence and vindication
which was written with much warmth and great
pathos. The editor-in-chief of the paper read
the article, while the author himself naturally
read it from the manuscript and proof-sheets
more than once. Everybody was satisfied, when
the printer’s reader suddenly noticed a slight
error which had escaped the attention of all.
There it was, plainly enough: ‘Our readers will
bear witness to the fact that we have always acted
in a selfish manner for the good of the com-
munity.’ It is quite evident that it was meant
to read unselfish. The real thoughts, however,
broke through the pathetic speech with elemental
force.”

127

Mistakes in Reading and Writing

(f) The following example of misprinting is
taken from a Western gazette: The teacher was
giving an instruction paper on mathematical
methods, and spoke of a plan “for the instruction
of youth that might be carried out ad libidinem.”

(g) Even the Bible did not escape misprints.
Thus we have the “Wicked Bible,” so called
from the fact that the negative was left out of
the seventh commandment. This authorized
edition of the Bible was published in London
in 1631, and it is said that the printer had to pay
a fine of two thousand pounds for the omission.
Another biblical misprint dates back to the
year 1580, and is found in the Bible of the
famous library of Wolfenbuttel, in Hesse. In
the passage in Genesis where God tells Eve that
Adam shall be her master and shall rule over her,
the German translation is “Und er soll dein Herr
sein.” The word Herr (master) was substituted
by Narr, which means fool. Newly discovered
evidence seems to show that the error was a
conscious machination of the printer’s suffragette
wife, who refused to be ruled by her husband.

(h) Dr. Ernest Jones reports the following
case concerning A. A. Brill: “Although by
custom almost a teetotaler, he yielded to a
friend’s importunity one evening, in order to
avoid offending him, and took a little wine.
During the next morning an exacerbation of an
eye-
strain headache gave him cause to regret

128

Psychopathology of Everyday Life

this slight indulgence, and his reflection on the
subject found expression in the following slip of
the pen. Having occasion to write the name of a
girl mentioned by a patient, he wrote not Ethel
but Ethyl.¹ It happened that the girl in question
was rather too fond of drink, and in Dr. Brill’s
mood at the time this characteristic of hers stood
out with conspicuous significance.²

(i) A woman wrote to her sister, felicitating
her on the occasion of taking possession of a new
and spacious residence. A friend who was
present noticed that the writer put the wrong
address on the letter, and what was still more
remarkable was the fact that she did not address
it to the previous residence, but to one long ago
given up, but which her sister had occupied when
she first married. When the friend called her
attention to it the writer remarked, “You are
right ; but what in the world made me do this? ”
to which her friend replied : “Perhaps you be-
grudge her the nice big apartment into which she
has just moved because you yourself are cramped
for space, and for that reason you put her back
into her first residence, where she was no better
off than yourself.” “Of course I begrudge her
the new apartment,” she honestly admitted. As
an afterthought she added, “It is a pity that one
is so mean in such matters.”

¹Ethyl alcohol is, of course, the chemical name for
ordinary alcohol.

²Jones, Psycho-analysis, p. 66.

129

Mistakes in Reading and Writing

(k) Ernest Jones reports the following ex-
ample given to him by Dr. A. A. Brill. In a
letter to Dr. Brill a patient tried to attribute his
nervousness to business worries and excitement
during the cotton crisis. He went on to say :

“My trouble is all due to that d--- frigid wave ;
there isn’t even any seed to be obtained for new
crops.” He referred to a cold wave which had
destroyed the cotton crops, but instead of writing
“wave” he wrote “wife.” In the bottom of his
heart he entertained reproaches against his wife
on account of her marital frigidity and child-
lessness, and he was not far from the cognition
that the enforced abstinence played no little part
in the causation of his malady.

Omissions in writing are naturally explained
in the same manner as mistakes in writing. A
remarkable example of omission which is of
historic importance was reported by Dr. B.
Dattner.¹⁾ In one of the legal articles dealing
with the financial obligations of both countries,
which was drawn up in the year 1867 during
the readjustment between Austria and Hungary,
the word “effective” was accidentally omitted
in the Hungarian translation. Dattner thinks it
probable that the unconscious desire of the
Hungarian law-makers to grant Austria the least
possible advantages had something to do with
this omission.

¹ Zentralbl. f. Psychoanalyse, i. 12.

130

Psychopathology of Everyday Life

Another example of omission is the following
related by Brill: “A prospective patient, who
had corresponded with me relative to treatment,
finally wrote for an appointment for a certain
day. Instead of keeping his appointment he sent
regrets which began as follows: ‘Owing to
foreseen circumstances I am unable to keep my
appointment.’ He naturally meant to write
unforeseen. He finally came to me months later,
and in the course of the analysis I discovered
that my suspicions at the time were justified;
there were no unforeseen circumstances to
prevent his coming at that time; he was
advised not to come to me. The unconscious
does not lie.”

Wundt gives a most noteworthy proof for the
easily ascertained fact that we more easily make
mistakes in writing than in speaking (loc. cit.,
p. 374). He states: “In the course of normal
conversation the inhibiting function of the will
is constantly directed toward bringing into
harmony the course of ideation with the move-
ment of articulation. If the articulation follow-
ing the ideas becomes retarded through
mechanical causes, as in writing, such antici-
pations then readily make their appearance.”

Observation of the determinants which favour
lapses in reading gives rise to doubt, which I
do not like to leave unmentioned, because I
am of the opinion that it may become the start-

131

Mistakes in Reading and Writing

ing-point of a fruitful investigation. It is a
familiar fact that in reading aloud the attention
of the reader often wanders from the text and
is directed toward his own thoughts. The
results of this deviation of attention are
often such that when interrupted and ques-
tioned he cannot even state what he has read.
In other words, he has read automatically,
although the reading was nearly always correct.
I do not think that such conditions favour any
noticeable increase in the mistakes. We are
accustomed to assume concerning a whole series
of functions that they are most precisely per-
formed when done automatically, with scarcely
any conscious attention. This argues that the
conditions governing attention in mistakes in
speaking, writing, and reading must be differently
determined than assumed by Wundt (cessation
or diminution of attention). The examples
which we have subjected to analysis have really
not given us the right to take for granted a
quantitative diminution of attention. We found
what is probably not exactly the same thing, a
disturbance of the attention through a strange
obtruding thought.