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Although Freud scholarship has become a substantial, even booming, industry, with a plethora of biographies ranging from the almost hagiographic all the way to the crudest of Freud-bashing—with the four by Didier Anzieu (1986), Peter Gay (1988), Ernest Jones (in three volumes, 1953, 1955, 1957), and Max Schur (1972) being the most comprehensively scholarly out of the eighty-one books in my own library about Freud, from seemingly every possible perspective—and with his voluminous exchanges of letters with so many of those most salient in the early history of psychoanalysis widely available in book form—I myself have the correspondence with Karl Abraham (1965), Sandor Ferenczi (1993, 1996), Wilhelm Fliess (1954, 1985), Ernest Jones (1995), Carl Jung (1974), Oskar Pfister (1963), Lou Andreas-Salomé , Eduard Silberstein (1990), Arnold Zweig (1970), as well as a collection of Letters of Sigmund Freud (1960), mostly to his fiancée and then wife, Martha Bernays, as well as to other family members and other close friends, edited by his son Ernst—what has always been a surprising lacuna is the relative dearth of histories of psychoanalysis per se—as both a “movement” and an intellectual discipline.1
It is therefore most welcome to note the appearance—in 1999—of a new effort at a comprehensive history of psychoanalysis, with the enigmatic title, Cassandra's Daughter, but with the subtitle, A History of Psychoanalysis, by Joseph Schwartz, a psychoanalytic psychotherapist, born and educated in the United States, but now living and working in London. It is indeed a noble effort, and I will adumbrate my sense of its accomplishments; but unhappily, for me it falls very far short of its avowed intent, and I will try to spell that out in some detail as well.
Firstly, the book does reflect a good deal of research scholarship, some of it quite new to me, especially on the early