A personal reaction to freud's paper ‘on beginning the treatment’

Abstract

Sometimes, when reading Freud, I imagine I hear the sound of far-off warning bells tolling their alarm somewhere deep in my mind. I feel as if I am experiencing a great sense of danger, as if I am a child being led by the hand into a confusing, directionless, murky wood by an adult who appears to know the way, yet whom I do not quite trust to keep hold of my hand. It is as if, although I read the decrepit, over-grown sign at the edge as we advanced under the eaves: proceed with caution: at risk of losing touch with reality, I was hurried quickly past by the firm grip of the Omnipotent Adult who plunged straight in, and whose knowledge I do not altogether credit. So, for me, reading some of Freud's papers has a distinctly nightmarish quality, an atmosphere of being slightly out-of-control, an unnerving feeling of being in severe danger of being sucked in.