Ruth Mack Brunswick
« A Dream from an Eleventh Century Japanese Novel »
(Int. J. Psa, VII,
1927.)
« Ein Traum aus einem japanischen Roman des elften
Jahrhunderts. », Imago, XIV, 1928.
Ce premier article,
peu avant l’admission de Ruth à la Société
psychanalytique de Vienne et à l’Association psychanalytique de
New-York, est fort bref. Il consiste en fait à souligner, à partir
d’un roman japonais[1],
combien les découvertes scientifiques de la psychanalyse rejoignent les
insights de certains poètes quant à la constitution psychique
polymorphe et sa conflictualité.
In the summer of 1925 there appeared in the English translation of Arthur
Waley, The Tale of Genji, a large Japanese work in novel form, written
1001-1015 A.D., by Lady Murasaki, a member of the Emperor's court. Despite its
sheerly poetic and narrative beauty, and its translator's emphasis of these
qualities, it is in its psychological aspect that the tale of the largely
amorous adventures of Genji, a Japanese Don Juan, is of particular interest to
us. Many passages might be quoted ; the following evaluation of a dream has
seemed to me especially noteworthy.
Aoi, the wife of Genji, has just died ;
and it is assumed here, as throughout the book, that the hatred of an enemy,
known or unknown, has killed her. Lady Rokujo, the mistress of Genji, is aware
of the fact that Aoi's death is attributed to the machinations of her
« living spirit ». She broods upon the nature of her feeling
toward Aoi, but is unable to discover in it anything save intense unhappiness.
« Yet she could not be sure whether somewhere in the depths of a soul
consumed by anguish some spark of malice had not lurked ». Here
recollects a dream :
« It seemed to her that she had been in a
large magnificent room, where lay a girl whom she knew to be the Princess Aoi.
Snatching her by the arm she had mauled and dragged the prostrate figure, with
an outburst of brutal fury such as in her waking life would have been utterly
foreign to her. Since then she had had the same dream several times. How
terrible ! It seemed then that it was really possible for one's spirit to leave
the body and break out into emotions which the waking mind would not
countenance ».
The comment of the translator on this particular,
one might almost say psychoanalytic, quality of Murasaki's insight is as
follows :
« She (Murasaki) is modern again owing to the
accident that medieval Buddhism possessed certain psychological conceptions
which happen to be current in Europe to-day. The idea that human personality is
built up of different layers which may act in conflict, that an emotion may
exist in its fullest intensity and yet be unperceived by the person in whom it
is at work - such conceptions were commonplaces in ancient Japan. They give to
Murasaki's work a certain rather fallacious air of
modernity ».
But to us as analysts it cannot seem
« accidental » that facts which were axiomatic in ancient
Japan should coincide with the results of our own laborious scientific
observation, contrary as these have always been to prevalent occidental beliefs.
An investigation of these similarities, especially as regards the unconscious,
its appearance in dreams, and dreams themselves as the expression of wishes or
« emotions which the waking mind would not countenance »
would seem to promise much, despite the comparative inaccessibility of the
actual sources (many of which; however, are available in translation), to all
except such rare Oriental scholars as Mr. Waley.
[1] The Tale of Genji, de
Lady Murasaki, traduit en anglais par Arthur Waley. London, George Allen and
Unwin Ltd., juin 1925.