745

VI

THE RELATION OF WIT TO DREAMS AND
TO THE UNCONSCIOUS

AT THE end of the chapter which dealt with the elucidation of the tech
nique of wit we asserted that the processes of condensation with and with
out substitutive formation, displacement, representation through ab
surdity, representation through the opposite, indirect representation, etc.,
all of which we found participating in the formation of wit, evinced a far
reaching agreement with the processes of “dream-
work.” We promised,
at that time, first to examine more carefully these similarities, and sec
ondly, so far as such indications point, to search for what is common to
both wit and dreams. The discussion of this comparison would be much
easier for us if we could assume that one of the subjects to be compared-
the “dream-
work”—were well known. But we shall probably do better
not to take this assumption for granted. I received the im-
pression that my
book The Interpretation of Dreams created more “confusion” than “en
lightenment” among my colleagues, and I know that the wider reading
circles have contented themselves to reduce the contents of the book t-
a
catchword, “Wish fulfillment”—a term easily remembered and easily
abused.

However, in my continued occupation with the problems considered
therein, for the study of which my practice as a psychotherapeutist affords
me much opportunity, I found nothing that would impel me to change or
improve on my ideas; I can therefore peacefully wait until the reader’s
comprehension has risen to my level, or until an intelligent critic has
pointed out to me the basic faults in my conception. For the purposes of
comparison with wit, I shall briefly review the most important features
of dreams and dream-
work.

We know dreams by the recollection, which usually seems fragmentary
and which occurs upon awakening. It is then a structure made up mostly
of visual or other sensory impressions, which represents to us a deceptive
picture of an experience, and may be mingled with mental processes (the

746

“knowledge” in the
dream), and emotional manifestations. What we thus
remember as a dream I call “the manifest dream-
content.” The latter is
often altogether absurd and confused, at other times it is merely one part
or another that is so affected. But even if it be entirely coherent, as in the
case of some anxiety dreams, it stands out in our psychic life as something
strange, for the origin of which one cannot account. Until recently the
explanation for these peculiarities of the dream has been sought in the
dream itself, in that it was considered roughly speaking an indication of
a muddled, dissociated, and “sleepy” activity of the nervous elements.

As opposed to this view, I have shown that the excessively peculiar
“manifest” dream-content can regularly be made comprehensible, and
that it is a disfigured and changed transcription of certain correct psychic
formations which deserve the name of “latent dream-thoughts.” One gains
an understanding of the latter by resolving the manifest dream-content
into its component parts without regard for its apparent meaning, and
then by following up the threads of associations which emanate from each
one of the now isolated elements. These become interwoven and in the
end lead to a structure of thoughts, which is not only entirely accurate,
but also fits easily into the familiar associations of our psychic processes.
During this “analysis” the dream-content loses all of the peculiarities so
strange to us; but if the analysis is to be successful, we must firmly cast
aside the critical objections which incessantly arise against the reproduc-
tion of the individual associations.

THE DREAM-WORK

From the comparison of the remembered manifest dream-content with
the latent dream-thoughts thus discovered, there arises the conception
of “dream-work.” The entire sum of the transforming processes which
have changed the latent dream-thought into the manifest dream is called
the dream-work. The astonishment which formerly the dream evoked in
us is now perceived to be due to the dream-work.

The function of the dream-work may be described in the following
manner: A structure of thoughts, mostly very complicated, which has
been built up during the day and not brought to settlement—a day rem-
nant—clings firmly even during night to the energy which it had assumed
—the underlying center of interest—and thus threatens to disturb sleep.
This day remnant is transformed into a dream by the dream-work and in
this way rendered harmless to sleep. But in order to make possible its
employment by the dream-work, this day remnant must be capable of
being cast into the form of a wish, a condition that is not difficult to fulfill.
The wish emanating from the dream-thoughts forms the first step and
later on the nucleus of the dream. Experience gained from analyses—not
the theory of the dream—teaches us that with children a fond wish left

747

from the waking state suffices to evoke a dream, which is coherent and
senseful, but almost always short, and easily recognizable as a “wish ful-
fillment.” In the case of adults the universally valid condition for the
dream-creating wish seems to be that the latter should appear foreign to
conscious thinking, that is, it should be a repressed wish, or that it should
supply consciousness with reinforcement from unknown sources. Without
the assumption of the unconscious activity in the sense used above, I
should be at a loss to develop further the theory of dreams and to ex-
plain the material gleaned from experience in dream-analyses. The action
of this unconscious wish upon the logical conscious material of dream-
thoughts now results in the dream. The latter is thereby drawn down into
the unconscious, as it were, or to speak more precisely, it is exposed to a
treatment which usually takes place at the level of unconscious mental
activity, and which is characteristic of this mental level. Only from the
results of the “dream-work” have we thus far learned to know the quali-
ties of this unconscious mental activity and its differentiation from the
“fore-conscious” which is capable of consciousness.

THE UNCONSCIOUS

A novel and difficult theory that runs counter to our habitual modes of
thinking can hardly gain in lucidity by a condensed exposition. I can
therefore accomplish little more in this discussion than refer the reader to
the detailed treatment of the unconscious in my Interpretation of Dreams,
and also to Lipps’s work, which I consider most important. I am aware
that he who is under the spell of a good old philosophical training, or
stands aloof from a so-called philosophical system, will oppose the as-
sumption of the “unconscious psychic processes” in Lipps’s sense and in
mine, and will desire to prove the impossibility of it preferably by means
of definitions of the term psychic. But definitions are conventional and
changeable. I have often found that persons who dispute the unconscious
on the grounds of its absurdity or impossibility have not received their
impressions from those sources from which I, at least, have found it nec-
essary to draw, in order to become aware of its existence. These opponents
had never witnessed the effect of a posthypnotic suggestion, and they
were immensely surprised at the evidence I imparted to them gleaned
from my analysis of unhypnotized neurotics. They had never gained the
conception of the unconscious as something which one does not really
know, while cogent proofs force one to supplement this idea by saying
that one understands by the unconscious something capable of conscious-
ness, something concerning which one has not thought and which is not
in the field of vision of consciousness. Nor had they attempted to con-
vince themselves of the existence of such unconscious thoughts in their
own psychic life by means of an analysis of one of their own dreams, and

748

when I attempted this with them, they could perceive their own mental
occurrences only with astonishment and confusion. I have also gotten the
impression that these are essentially affective resistances which stand in
the way of the acceptation of the “unconscious,” and that they are based
on the fact that no one is desirous of becoming acquainted with his un-
conscious, and it is most convenient to deny altogether its possibility.

CONDENSATION AND DISPLACEMENT IN THE DREAM-
WORK

The dream-work, to which I return after this digression, subjects the
thought material uttered in the optative mood to a very peculiar elabo-
ration. First of all it proceeds from the optative to the indicative mood;
it substitutes “it is” for “would it were!” This “it is” is destined to be-
come part of an hallucinatory representation which I have called the “re-
gression” of the dream-work. This regression represents the path from the
mental images to the sensory perceptions of the same, or if one chooses to
speak with reference to the still unfamiliar—not to be understood ana-
tomically—topic of the psychic apparatus, it is the region of the thought-
formation to the region of the sensory perception. Along this road which
runs in an opposite direction to the course of development of psychic com-
plications, the dream-thoughts gain in clearness; a plastic situation finally
results as a nucleus of the manifest “dream picture.” In order to arrive
at such a sensory representation the dream-thoughts have had to experi-
ence tangible changes in their expression. But while the thoughts are
changed back into mental images they are subjected to still greater
changes, some of which are easily conceivable as necessary, while others
are surprising. As a necessary secondary result of the regression, one un-
derstands that nearly all relationships within the thoughts which have or-
ganized the same are lost to the manifest dream. The dream-work takes
over, as it were, only the raw material of the ideas for representation, and
not the thought-relations which held each other in check; or at least it re-
serves the freedom of leaving the latter out of the question. On the other
hand, there is a certain part of the dream-work which cannot be traced to
the regression or to the recasting into mental images; it is just that part
which is significant to us for the analogy to wit-formation. The material
of the dream-thoughts experiences an extraordinary compression or con
densation during the dream-work. The starting-points of this condensa-
tion are those points which are common to two or more dream-thoughts
because they naturally pertain to both or because they are inevitable con-
sequences of the contents of two or more dream-thoughts, and since these
points do not regularly suffice for a prolific condensation new artificial and
fleeting common points come into existence, and for this purpose prefer-
ably words are used which combine different meanings in their sounds.
The newly framed common points of condensation enter as representa-

749

tives of the dream-thoughts into the manifest dream-content, so that an
element of the dream corresponds to a point of junction or intersection of
the deam-thoughts, and with regard to the latter it must in general be
called “over-determined.” The process of condensation is that part of the
dream-work which is most easily recognizable; it suffices to compare the
recorded wording of a dream with the written dream-thoughts gained by
means of analysis, in order to get a good impression of the productiveness
of dream condensation.

It is not easy to convince one’s self of the second great change that
takes place in the dream-thoughts through the agency of the dream-
work. I refer to that process which I have called the dream displacement.
It manifests itself by the fact that what occupies the center of the manifest
dream and is endowed with vivid sensory intensity has occupied a periph-
eral and secondary position in the dream-thoughts, and vice versa. This
process causes the dream to appear out of proportion when compared with
the dream-thoughts, and it is because of this displacement that it seems
strange and incomprehensible to the waking state. In order that such a
displacement should occur it must be possible for the cathexis to pass un-
inhibited from important to insignificant ideas—a process which in nor-
mal conscious thinking can only give the impression of “faulty thinking.”

Transformation into expressive activity, condensation, and displace-
ment are the three great functions which we can ascribe to the dream-
work. A fourth, to which too little attention was given in The Interpreta-
tion of Dreams, does not come into consideration here for our purpose. In
a consistent elucidation of the ideas dealing with the “topic of the psychic
apparatus” and “regression,” which alone can lend value to these work-
ing hypotheses, an effort would have to be made to determine at what
stages of regression the various transformations of the dream-thoughts
occur.

As yet, no serious effort has been made in this direction, but at least
we can speak definitely about displacement when we say that it must
arise in the thought material while the latter is in the level of the uncon-
scious processes. One will probably have to think of condensation as a
process that extends over the entire course up to the outposts of the per-
ceptive region, but in general it suffices to assume that there is a simul-
taneous activity of all the forces which participate in the formation of
dreams.

In view of the reserve which one must naturally exercise in the
treatment of such problems, and in consideration of the inability to dis-
cuss here the main objections to these problems, I should like to trust
somewhat to the assertion that the process of the dream-work which pre-
pares the dream, is situated in the region of the unconscious.

Roughly
speaking, one can distinguish three general stages in the formation of the
dream: first, the transference of the conscious day remnants into the un-
conscious, a transference in which the conditions of the sleeping state

750

must co-operate; secondly, the actual dream-
work in the unconscious; and thirdly, the re-
gression of the elaborated dream material to the
region of perception, whereby the dream becomes
conscious.

The forces participating in the dream-formation
may be recognized as the following: the wish to
sleep; the sum of cathexis which still clings to
the day remnants after the depression brought
about by the state of sleep; the psychic energy
of the unconscious wish forming the dream; and
the opposing force of the “censorship,” which
exercises its authority in our waking state, and
is not entirely abolished during sleep. The task
of dream-formation is, above all, to overcome
the inhibition of the censorship, and it is just
this task that is fulfilled by the displacement of
the psychic energy within the material of the
dream-thoughts.

THE FORMULA FOR WIT-WORK

Now we recall what caused us to think of the
dream while investigating wit. We found that the
character and activity of wit were bound up in cer-
tain forms of expression and technical means,
among which the various forms of condensation,
displacement, and indirect representation were
the most conspicuous. But the processes which
led to the same results—condensation, displace-
ment, and indirect expression—we learned to
know as peculiarities of dream-work. Does not
this analogy almost force us to the conclusion
that wit-work and dream-work must be identical
at least in one essential point? I believe that the
dream-work lies revealed before us in its most
important characters, but in wit we find obscured
just that portion of the psychic processes which
we may compare with the dream-work, namely,
the process of wit-formation in the first person.
Shall we not yield to the temptation to construct
this process according to the analogy of dream-
formation? Some of the characteristics of dreams
are so foreign to wit, that that part of the dream-
work corresponding to them cannot be carried
over to the wit-formation. The regression of the
stream of thought to perception is certainly lack-
ing as far as wit is concerned. However, the
other two stages of dream-formation, the sinking
of a foreconscious¹ thought into the unconscious,
and the unconscious elaboration, would give us
exactly the result which we might observe in wit
if we assumed this process in wit-formation. Let
us decide to assume that this is the proceed-
ing of wit-formation in the case of the first
person. A foreconscious thought is left for a moment to
unconscious elaboration and the results are forth-
with grasped by the conscious perception.

Before, however, we attempt to prove the details
of this assertion, we wish to consider an objection
which may jeopardize our assumption. We start
with the fact that the techniques of wit point to
the same processes which become known to us as
peculiarities of dream-work. Now it is an

¹ Cf. The Interpretation of Dreams, Chapter VII.

756

easy matter to say in opposition that we would not have described the
techniques of wit as condensation, displacement, etc., nor would we have
arrived at such a comprehensive agreement in the means of representation
of wit and dreams, if our previous knowledge of dream-
work had not influ-
enced our conception of the technique of wit; so that fundamentally we
find that wit confirms only those expectations which we brought to it from
our study of dreams. Such a genesis of agreement would be no certain
guarantee of its stability beyond our preconceived judgment. No other
author has really thought of considering condensation, displacement, and
indirect expression as active factors of wit. This might be a possible ob-
jection, but nevertheless it would not be justified. It might just as well
be said that in order to recognize the real agreement between dreams and
wit our ordinary knowledge must be augmented by a specialized knowl-
edge of dream-work. However, the decision will really depend only upon
the question whether the examining critic can prove that such a concep-
tion of the technique of wit in the individual examples is forced, and that
other nearer and farther-reaching interpretations have been suppressed
in favor of mine; or whether the critic will have to admit that the expecta-
tions derived from the study of dreams can be really confirmed through
wit. My opinion is that we have nothing to fear from such a critic and
that our processes of reduction have confidently pointed out in which
forms of expression we must search for the techniques of wit. That we
designated these techniques by names which previously anticipated the
result of the agreement between the technique of wit and the dream-work
was our just prerogative, and really nothing more than an easily justified
simplification.

There is still another objection which would not be vital, but which
could not be so completely refuted. One might think that the techniques
of wit that fit in so well considering the ends we have in view deserve
recognition, but that they do not represent all possible techniques of wit
or even all those in use. Also, that we have selected only the techniques of
wit which were influenced by and would suit the pattern of the dream-
work, whereas others ignored by us would have demonstrated that such
an agreement was not common to all cases. I really do not trust myself to
make the assertion that I have succeeded in explaining all the current wit-
ticisms with reference to their techniques, and I therefore admit the pos-
sibility that my enumeration of wit-techniques may show many gaps. But
I have not purposely excluded from my discussion any form of technique
that was clear to me, and I can affirm that the most frequent, the most
essential, and the most characteristic technical means of wit have not
eluded my attention.

752

WIT AS AN INSPIRATION

Wit possesses still another character which entirely corresponds to our
conception of the wit-
work as originally discovered in our study of dreams.
It is true that it is common to hear one say “I made a joke,” but one feels
that one behaves differently during this process than when one pronounces
a judgment or offers an objection. Wit shows in a most pronounced man-
ner the character of an involuntary “inspiration” or a sudden flash of
thought. A moment before one cannot tell what kind of joke one is going
to make, though it lacks only the words to clothe it. One usually experi-
ences something indefinable which I should like most to compare to an
absence, or sudden drop of intellectual tension; then all of a sudden the
witticism appears, usually simultaneously with its verbal investment.
Some of the means of wit are also utilized in the expression of thought
along other lines, as in the cases of comparison and allusion. I can inten-
tionally will to make an allusion. In doing this I have first in mind (in
the inner hearing) the direct expression of my thought, but as I am in-
hibited from expressing the same through some objection from the situ-
ation in question, I almost resolve to substitute the direct expression by
a form of indirect expression, and then I utter it in the form of an allu-
sion. But the allusion that comes into existence in this manner having
been formed under my continuous control is never witty, no matter how
useful it may be. On the other hand, the witty allusion appears without
my having been able to follow up these preparatory stages in my mind.
I do not wish to attribute too much value to this procedure, it is hardly
conclusive, but it does agree well with our assumption, that in wit-forma-
tion a stream of thought is dropped for a moment which then suddenly
emerges from the unconscious as a witticism.

Wit also evinces a peculiar behavior along the lines of association of
ideas. Frequently it is not at the disposal of our memory when we look
for it; on the other hand, it often appears unsolicited, and at places of our
train of thought where we cannot understand its presence. Again, these
are only minor qualities, but none the less they point to their unconscious
origin.

Let us now collect the properties of wit whose formation can be referred
to the unconscious. Above all, there is the peculiar brevity of wit which,
though not an indispensable, is a marked and distinctive characteristic
feature. When we first encountered it, we were inclined to see in it an ex-
pression of a tendency to economize, but owing to very evident objections
we ourselves depreciated the value of this conception. At present we look
upon it more as a sign of the unconscious elaboration which the thought
of wit has undergone. The process of condensation which corresponds
to it in dreams, we can correlate with no other factor than with the local-

753

THE RELATION OF WIT TO DREAMS

ization in the unconscious, and we must assume that the conditions for
such condensations which are lacking in the foreconscious are present in
the unconscious mental process.¹ It is to be expected that in the process of
condensation some of the elements subjected to it become lost, while
others which take over their cathexis are strengthened by it, or are built
up too energetically. The brevity of wit, like the brevity of dreams, would
thus be a necessary concomitant manifestation of the condensation which
occurs in both cases; both times it is a result of the condensation process.
The brevity of wit is indebted also to this origin for its peculiar charac-
ter, which though not further established produces a striking impression.

THE UNCONSCIOUS AND THE INFANTILE

We have defined above the one result of condensation—the manifold
application of the same material, play upon words, and similarity of
sound—as a localized economy, and have also referred the pleasure pro-
duced by harmless wit to that economy. At a later place we have found
that the original purpose of wit consisted in producing this kind of pleas-
ure from words, a process which was permitted to the individual during
the stage of playing, but which became banked in during the course of
intellectual development or by rational criticism. Now we have decided
upon the assumption that such condensations as serve the technique of
wit originate automatically and without any particular purpose during the
process of thinking in the unconscious. Have we not here two different
conceptions of the same fact which seem to be incompatible with each
other? I do not think so. To be sure, there are two different conceptions,
which should be brought in unison, but they do not contradict each other.
They are merely somewhat strange to each other, and as soon as we have
established a relationship between them we shall probably gain in knowl-
edge. That such condensations are sources of pleasure is in perfect accord
with the supposition that they easily find in the unconscious the condi-
tions necessary for their origin. On the other hand, we see the motivation
for the sinking into the unconscious in the circumstance, that the pleas-
ure-bringing condensation necessary to wit easily results there. Two other
factors also, which upon first examination seem entirely foreign to each
other and which are brought together quite accidentally, will be recog-
nized on deeper investigation as intimately connected, and perhaps may
be found to be substantially the same. I am referring to the two assertions
that on the one hand wit could form such pleasure-bringing condensations

¹Besides in the dream-work and the technique of wit I have been able to demon-
strate condensation as a regular and significant process in another psychic occur-
rence, in the mechanism of normal (not purposive) forgetting. Singular impressions
put difficulties in the way of forgetting; impressions in any way analogous are for-
gotten by becoming fused at their points of contact. The confusion of analogous im-
pressions is one of the first steps in forgetting.

754

WIT AND ITS RELATION TO THE UNCONSCIOUS
during its development in the stage of playing, that is, during the infancy
of reason; and, on the other hand, that it accomplishes the same function
on higher levels by submerging the thought into the unconscious. For the
infantile is the source of the unconscious. The unconscious mental proc-
esses are no others than those which are solely produced during early in-
fancy. The thought which sinks into the unconscious for the purpose of
wit-formation only revisits there the old homestead of the former playing
with words. The thought is put back for a moment into the infantile state
in order to regain in this way childish pleasure-sources. If, indeed, one
were not already acquainted with it from the investigation of the psy-
chology of the neuroses, wit would surely impress one with the idea that
the peculiar unconscious elaboration is nothing else but the infantile type
of the mental process. But this peculiar infantile manner of thinking is
by no means easy to grasp in the unconscious of the adult because it is
-
usually corrected, so to say, in statu nascendi. However, it is successfully
grasped in a series of cases, and then we always laugh about the “childish
stupidity.” In fact, every exposure of such an unconscious fact affects us
in a “comical” manner.¹

It is easier to comprehend the character of these unconscious mental
processes in the utterances of patients suffering from various psychic dis-
turbances. It is very probable that, following the assumption of Gries-
inger, we would be in a position to understand the deliria of the insane
and to turn them to good account as valuable information, if we would
not make the demands of conscious thinking upon them, but instead treat
them as we do dreams by means of our art of interpretation.² In the dream,
too, we were able to show the “return of psychic life to the embryonal
state.” ³

In discussing the processes of condensation we have entered so deeply
into the significance of the analogy between wit and dreams that we can
here be brief. As we know that displacements in dream-work point to
the influence of censorship of conscious thought, we will consequently be
inclined to assume that an inhibiting force also plays a part in the forma-
tion of wit when we find the process of displacement among the tech-
niques of wit. We also know that this is commonly the case; the endeavor
of wit to revive the old pleasure in nonsense or the old pleasure in word-
play meets with resistance in every normal state, a resistance which is

¹Many of my patients while under psychoanalytic treatment are wont to prove regu-
larly by their laughter that I have succeeded in demonstrating faithfully to their con-
scious perception the veiled unconscious; they laugh also when the content of what
is disclosed does not at all justify this laughter. To be sure, it is conditional that they
have approached this unconscious closely enough to grasp it when the physician has
conjectured it and presented it to them.
²In doing this we must not forget to reckon with the distortion brought about by
the censorship which is still active in the psychoses.
³The Interpretation of Dreams.

755

exerted by the protest of critical reason, and which must be overcome in
each individual case. But a radical distinction between wit and dreams is
shown in the manner in which the wit-
work solves this difficulty. In the
dream-
work the solution of this task is brought about regularly through
displacements and through the choice of ideas which are remote enough
from those objectionable to secure passage through the censorship; the
latter themselves are but offsprings of those whose psychic cathexis they
have taken over through full transference. The displacements are, there-
fore, not lacking in any dream and are far more comprehensive. They not
only include the deviations from the trend of thought, but also all forms
of indirect expression, especially the substitution for an important but
offensive element by one indifferent and seemingly harmless to the cen-
sorship, which then looks like a most remote allusion to the first; they also
include substitution through symbols, comparisons, or trifles. It is not
to be denied that parts of this indirect representation really originate in
the foreconscious thoughts of the dream—as, for example, symbolical
representation and representation through comparisons—because other-
wise the thought would not have reached the state of the foreconscious
expression. Such indirect expressions and allusions, whose reference to
the original thought is easily detectable, are really permissible and cus-
tomary means of expression even in our conscious thought. The dream-
work, however, exaggerates the application of these means of indirect ex-
pression to an unlimited degree. Under the pressure of the censor any
kind of association becomes good enough for substitution by allusion;
the displacement from one element to any other is permitted. The substi-
tution of the inner associations (similarity, causal connection, etc.) by
the so-
called outer associations (simultaneity, contiguity in space, as-
sonance) is particularly conspicuous and characteristic of the dream-
work.

THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN DREAM-
TECHNIQUE AND WIT-
TECHNIQUE

All these means of displacement also occur as techniques of wit, but when
they do occur they usually restrict themselves to those limits prescribed
for their use in conscious thought; in fact, they may be lacking even
though wit must regularly solve a task of inhibition. One can comprehend
this retirement of the process of displacement in wit-
work when one re-
members that wit usually has another technique at its disposal through
which it defends itself against inhibitions. Indeed, we have discovered
nothing more characteristic of it than just this technique. For wit does
not have recourse to compromises as does the dream, nor does it evade
the inhibition; it insists upon retaining the play with words or nonsense
unaltered, but thanks to the ambiguity of words and multiplicity of
thought-
relations, it restricts itself to the choice of cases in which this

756

play or nonsense may appear at the same time admissible (jest) or sense-
ful (wit). Nothing distinguishes wit from all other psychic formations
better than this double-sidedness and this double-dealing; by emphasiz-
ing the “sense in nonsense,” the authors have approached nearest the
understanding of wit, at least from this angle.

Considering the unexceptional predominance of this peculiar technique
in overcoming inhibitions in wit, one might find it superfluous that wit
should make use of the displacement-technique even in a single case. But
on the one hand, certain kinds of this technique remain useful for wit as
objects and sources of pleasure—as, for example, the real displacement
(deviation of the trend of thought) which in fact shares in the nature of
nonsense—and on the other hand one must not forget that the highest
stage of wit, tendency-wit, must frequently overcome two kinds of inhibi-
tions which oppose both itself and its tendency, and that allusion and dis-
placements are qualified to facilitate this latter task.

The numerous and unrestricted application of indirect representation,
of displacements, and especially of allusions in the dream-work, has a re-
sult which I mention not because of its own significance but because it be-
came for me the subjective inducement to occupy myself with the prob-
lem of wit. If a dream analysis is imparted to one unfamiliar with the
subject and unaccustomed to it, and the peculiar ways of allusions and
displacements (objectionable to the waking thoughts but utilized by the
dream-work) are explained, the hearer experiences an uncomfortable
impression. He declares these interpretations to be “witty,” but it seems
obvious to him that these are not successful jokes but forced ones which
run contrary to the rules of wit. This impression can be easily explained
by the fact that the dream-work operates with the same means as wit, but
in the application of the same, the dream exceeds the bounds which wit
restricts. We shall soon learn that in consequence of the rôle of the third
person, wit is bound by a certain condition which does not affect the
dream.

IRONY—NEGATIVISM

Among those techniques which are common to both wit and dreams,
representation through the opposite and the application of absurdity are
especially interesting. The first belongs to the strongly effective means of
wit as shown above in the examples of “out-doing wit.” The representa-
tion through the opposite, unlike most of the wit-techniques, is unable to
withdraw itself from conscious attention. He who intentionally tries to
make use of wit-work, as in the case of the “habitual wag,” soon discovers
that the easiest way to answer an assertion with a witticism is to concen-
trate one’s mind on the opposite of this assertion and trust to the chance
flash of thought to brush aside the feared objection to this opposite, by

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means of a different interpretation. Maybe the representation through its
opposite is indebted for such a preference to the fact that it forms the
nucleus of another pleasurable mode of mental expression, for an under-
standing of which we do not have to consult the unconscious. I refer to
irony, which is very similar to wit and is considered a sub-species of the
comic. The essence of irony consists in imparting the very opposite of
what one intended to express, but it precludes the anticipated contradic-
tion by indicating through the inflections, concomitant gestures, and
through slight changes in style—if it is done in writing—that the speaker
himself means to convey the opposite of what he says. Irony is applicable
only in cases where the other person is prepared to hear the reverse of the
statement actually made, so that he cannot fail to be inclined to contra-
dict. As a consequence of this condition, ironic expressions are particularly
subject to the danger of being misunderstood. To the person who uses it,
it gives the advantage of readily avoiding the difficulties to which direct
expressions, as, for example, invectives, are subject. In the hearer it pro-
duces comic pleasure, probably by causing him to make preparations for
contradiction, which are immediately found to be unnecessary. Such a
comparison of wit with a form of the comical that is closely allied to it,
might strengthen us in the assumption that the relation of wit to the un-
conscious is the peculiarity that also distinguishes it from the comical.¹

In dream-work, representation through the opposite has a far more
important part to play than in wit. The dream not only delights in repre-
senting a pair of opposites by means of one and the same composite im-
age, but in addition it often changes an element from the dream-thoughts
into its opposite, thus causing considerable difficulty in the work of inter-
pretation. In the case of any element capable of having an opposite it is
impossible to tell whether it is to be taken negatively or positively in the
dream-thoughts.

I must emphasize that as yet this fact has by no means been under-
stood. Nevertheless, it seems to give indications of an important charac-
teristic of unconscious thinking which in all probability results in a
process comparable to “judging.” Instead of setting aside judgments, the
unconscious forms “repressions.” The repression may correctly be de-
scribed as a stage intermediate between the defense reflex and condemna-
tion.²

1 The character of the comical which is referred to as its “dryness” also depends in
the broadest sense upon the differentiation of the things spoken from the antics
accompanying it.

2 This very remarkable and still inadequately understood behavior of antagonistic
relationships is probably not without value for the understanding of the symptom of
negativism in neurotics and in the insane. Cf. the two latest works on the subject:
Bleuler, “Über die negative Suggestibilität,” Psych.-Neurol. Wochenschrift, 1904, and
Otto Groos’s Zur Differentialdiagnostik negativistischer Phänomene, also my review
of the Gegensinn der Urworte, in Jahrb. f. Psychoanalyse II, 1910.

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THE UNCONSCIOUS AS THE PSYCHIC STAGE OF THE WIT-WORK

Nonsense, or absurdity, which occurs so often in dreams and which has
made them the object of so much contempt, has never really come into be-
ing as the result of an accidental shuffling of conceptual elements, but may
in every case be proven to have been purposely admitted by the dream-
work. Nonsense and absurdity are intended to express embittered criti-
cism and scornful contradiction within the dream-thoughts. Absurdity
in the dream-content thus stands for the judgment: “It’s pure nonsense,”
expressed in dream-thoughts. In my Interpretation of Dreams I have
placed great emphasis on the demonstration of this fact because I thought
that I could in this manner most strikingly controvert the error expressed
by many, that the dream is no psychic phenomenon at all—an error which
bars the way to an understanding of the unconscious. Now we have learnt
(in the analysis of certain tendency-witticisms) that nonsense in wit is
made to serve the same purposes of expression. We also know that a non-
sensical façade of a witticism is peculiarly adapted to enhance the psychic
expenditure in the hearer and hence also to increase the amount to be dis-
charged through laughter. Moreover, we must not forget that nonsense in
wit is an end in itself, since the purpose of reviving the old pleasure in non-
sense is one of the motives of the wit-work. There are other ways to regain
the feeling of nonsense in order to derive pleasure from it; caricature, ex-
aggeration, parody, and travesty utilize the same and thus produce “comi-
cal nonsense.” If we subject these modes of expression to an analysis simi-
lar to the one used in studying wit, we shall find that there is no occasion in
any of them for resorting to unconscious processes in our sense, for the
purpose of getting explanations. We are now also in a position to under-
stand why the “witty” character may be added as an embellishment to
caricature, exaggeration, and parody; it is the manifold character of the
performance upon the “psychic stage” ¹ that makes this possible.

I am of the opinion that by transferring the wit-work into the system
of the unconscious we have made a distinct contribution, since it makes
it possible for us to understand the fact that the various techniques to
which wit admittedly adheres are not its exclusive property. Many doubts,
which have arisen in the beginning of our investigation of these techniques
and which we were forced temporarily to leave, can now be conveniently
cleared up. Hence, we shall give due consideration to the doubt which ex-
presses itself in the assertion that the undeniable relation of wit to the
unconscious is correct only for certain categories of tendency-wit, while we
are ready to claim this relation for all forms and from all the stages of
development. We may not shirk from testing this objection.

¹An expression of G. T. Fechner’s, which has acquired significance from the point of
view of my conception.

159

We may assume that we deal with a sure case of wit-formation in the
unconscious when it concerns witticisms that serve unconscious tenden-
cies, or such as are strengthened by unconscious tendencies; that is, in
most of the “cynical” witticisms. For in such cases the unconscious tend-
ency draws the foreconscious thought down into the unconscious in order
to remodel it there; a process to which the study of the psychology of the
neuroses has added many analogies with which we are acquainted. But in
the case of tendency-wit of other varieties, namely, harmless wit and the
jest, this power seems to vanish and the relation of wit to the uncon-
scious is an open question.

But now let us consider the case of the witty expression of a thought
that is not without value in itself and that comes to the surface in the
course of the association of mental processes. In order that this thought
may become wit, it is of course necessary that it make a choice among the
possible forms of expression in order to find the exact form that will bring
along the gain in word-pleasure. We know from self-ob-
servation that this
choice is not made by conscious attention, but the selection will certainly
be better if the cathexis of the foreconscious thought sinks to the uncon-
scious. For in the unconscious, as we have learnt from the dream-work,
the paths of association emanating from a word are treated on a par with
associations from objects. The cathexis from the unconscious presents by
far the more favorable conditions for the selection of the expression.
Moreover, we may assume without going farther that the possible expres-
sion which contains the gain in word-pleasure exerts a lowering effect on
the still fluctuating self-command of the foreconscious, similar to that
exerted in the first case by the unconscious tendency. As an explanation
for the simpler case of the jest we may imagine that an ever-watchful in-
tention of attaining the gain in word-pleasure seizes the opportunity of
fered in the foreconscious of again drawing the investing energy down into
the unconscious, according to the familiar scheme.

I earnestly wish that it were possible for me on the one hand to present
one decisive point in my conception of wit more clearly, and on the other
hand to fortify it with cogent arguments. But as a matter of fact, it is not
a question here of two failures, but of one and the same failure. I can
give no clearer exposition because I have no further proof for my assump-
tion. The latter developed from my study of the technique and from com-
parison with dream-work, and indeed from this one side only. I could
then find that the dream-work as a whole fitted excellently the peculiari-
ties of wit. This assumption is now accepted. If such a conclusion does not
lead to a familiar, but rather a strange province, one that is novel to our
modes of thought, the conclusion is called a “hypothesis,” and the relation
of the hypothesis to the material from which it was drawn is justly not
accepted as “proof.” The hypothesis is admitted as “proved” only if it

160

WIT AND ITS RELATION TO THE UNCONSCIOUS

can be reached by other ways and if it can be shown to be the juncture for
other associations. But in view of the fact that our knowledge of uncon-
scious processes has hardly begun, such proof cannot be had. Realizing
then that we are on soil still virgin, we shall be content to project from our
viewpoint of observation one narrow slender plank into the unexplored
region.

We shall not build much on this foundation. If we correlate the dif-
ferent stages of wit to the mental dispositions favorable to them, we may
say: The jest has its origin in the happy mood, which seems to have a
peculiar tendency to lower the cathexis. The jest already makes use of all
the characteristic techniques of wit and satisfies the fundamental condi-
tions of the same through the choice of such an assortment of words or
mental associations as will conform not only to the requirements for the
production of pleasure, but also to the demands of the intelligent critic.
We may conclude that the sinking of the mental energy to the unconscious
stage, a process facilitated by the happy mood, has already taken place in
the case of the jest. The mood does away with this requirement in the case
of harmless wit connected with the expression of a valuable thought; here
we must assume a particular personal adaptation which finds it as easy
to come to expression as it is for the foreconscious thought to sink for a
moment into the unconscious. An ever watchful tendency to renew the
original resultant pleasure of wit exerts thereby a lowering effect upon the
still fluctuating foreconscious expression of the thought. Most people are
probably capable of making jests when in a happy mood; aptitude for jok-
ing independent of the mood is found only in a few persons. Finally, the
most powerful incentive for wit-work is the presence of strong tendencies
which reach back into the unconscious and which indicate a particular
fitness for witty productions; these tendencies might explain to us why
the subjective conditions of wit are so frequently fulfilled in the case of
neurotic persons. Even the most inapt person may become witty under the
influence of strong tendencies.

DIFFERENCES BETWEEN WIT AND DREAMS

This last contribution, the explanation of wit-work in the first person,
though still hypo-
thetical, strictly speaking, ends our interest in wit. There
still remains a short comparison of wit to the more familiar dream, and
we may expect that outside of the one agreement already considered, two
such diverse mental activities should show nothing but differences. The
most important difference lies in their social behavior. The dream is a
perfectly asocial psychic product. It has nothing to tell to anyone else,
having originated in an individual as a compromise between conflicting
psychic forces it remains incomprehensible to the person himself and has
therefore altogether no interest for anybody else. Not only does the dream

761

find it unnecessary to place any value on intelligibleness, but it must even
guard against being understood, as it would then be destroyed; it can only
exist in disguised form. For this reason the dream may make use freely
of the mechanism that controls unconscious thought processes to the ex-
tent of producing undecipherable distortions. Wit, on the other hand, is
the most social of all those psychic functions whose aim is to gain pleas-
ure. It often requires three persons, and the psychic process which it in-
cites always requires the participation of at least one other person. It must
therefore bind itself to the condition of intelligibleness; it may employ
distortion made practicable in the unconscious through condensation and
displacement, to no greater extent than can be deciphered by the intelli-
gence of the third person. As for the rest, wit and dreams have developed
in altogether different spheres of the psychic life, and are to be classed
under widely separated categories of the psychological system. No mat-
ter how concealed, the dream is still a wish, while wit is a developed play.
Despite its apparent unreality, the dream retains its relation to the great
interests of life; it seeks to supply what is lacking through a regressive
detour of hallucinations; and it owes its existence solely to the strong need
for sleep during the night. Wit, on the other hand, seeks to draw a small
amount of pleasure from the free and unencumbered activities of our
psychic apparatus, and later to seize this pleasure as an incidental gain.
It thus secondarily reaches to important functions relative to the outer
world. The dream serves preponderantly to guard against pain, while wit
serves to acquire pleasure; in these two aims all our psychic activities
meet.