Reviewed by: The Historic Expedition to America (1909): Freud, Jung and Hall the King-Maker, and: Putnam Camp: Sigmund Freud, James Jackson Putnam, and the Purpose of American Psychology, and: The Interpretation of Murder: A Novel John Kerr The Historic Expedition to America (1909): Freud, Jung and Hall the King-Maker. Saul Rosenzweig. St. Louis: Rana House, 1994. xii + 477 pp. $14.95 (pb). Putnam Camp: Sigmund Freud, James Jackson Putnam, and the Purpose of American Psychology. George Prochnik. New York: Other Press, 2006. viii + 455 pp. $29.95 (pb). The Interpretation of Murder: A Novel. Jed Rubenfeld. New York: Henry Holt and Company, 2006. 464 pp. $26.00 (hb). Did you know that Freud was once in America, actually here? It really did happen, thanks to G. Stanley Hall, pioneering American psychologist and first president of Clark University, who invited both Freud and Jung to an all-star conference to celebrate the school's twentieth anniversary. But how to process this information . . . ah, that's something else. Freud doesn't really belong in America, not in Worcester, Massachusetts for the conference, not in New York City beforehand, not in James Jackson Putnam's Adirondack summer camp afterward. No, he belongs in Vienna, with cigar-smoke in the air, antiquities on the desk, an oriental covering thrown over the couch, an elaborate interpretation on his mind—and books, books, books on the shelves. How does one imagine him anywhere else? More to the point, how does one place him, say, in Coney Island, with a hotdog in his hand, yellow mustard on his beard? (He did make it to Coney Island, but history is silent on the hot dog, and as for the mustard, I made that up.) Freud just doesn't belong in America. It doesn't fit. Not unless we imagine teen-aged girls at the backstage door, gasping for a glimpse and squealing when they get it: "It's him, it's him, it's really Freud! And he has a cigar! Oh my God, he has a cigar!" The fact that Freud really was here, from August 29 to September 22, 1909, is either absurd or important, or quite [End Page 135] possibly both. Three recent books have tried to spell it out for us, and in their very different ways, all three succeed admirably. The first—I am stretching "recent" to its American limit, for the book is already more than a decade old—is the labor of a lifetime, Saul Rosenzweig's The Historic Expedition to America (1909), perhaps better known by its first title, which is now its paperback subtitle, Freud, Jung and Hall the King-maker. Rosenzweig is a distinguished academic psychologist, long interested in the integration of psychodynamic ideas ("ideodynamics" in his reformulation) and experimental findings, who has made of the American trip a lifelong hobby. Accordingly, he has accumulated just about everything that a direct search of the documentary record can generate, as well as the insights of a man to whom the whole period in American psychology served as bedrock to his own training in the profession. Rosenzweig very much counts as the old hand among the trio of authors under review, and his merits are precisely those of a man to whom textual study and the history of psychology are second nature. Indeed, such are Rosenzweig's intellectual appetites and his whole manner of approach that he almost counts as European. He is the person among the three that Freud and Jung would likely have commissioned to write the account had they been asked, though Jung, as will emerge in a moment, would have been very disappointed in the result. It is Rosenzweig, for example, who is in a position to tell us on the basis of his archival researches that had the great German psychologist Wilhelm Wundt not been unavailable, Stanley Hall, who was devoted to Wundt, would likely not have renewed his invitation to Sigmund Freud and financially sweetened it. Similarly, had not another student of Wundt's, Ernst Meumann, likewise declined, Hall would probably not have made a further invitation to Carl Jung also to attend the Clark University twentieth anniversary conference. In short, the...