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What happened to us? What of the sense of excitement that captured the minds of so many of the early psychoanalytic pioneers and their witnesses? Where gone the philia, the brotherly and collegial love that flowed in letters back and forth through the states of Central Europe. It is difficult to imagine any other scientific endeavor that catalyzed so much in so brief a time.1
The frontis piece2 of the dream-book proudly reads (, S.E. 4):
Die
Tramdeutung
von
DR. SIGM. FREUD
“FLECTERE SI NEQUEO SUPEROS, ACHERONTA MOVEBO.”
If we couldn't always bend the upper gods (of consciousness), then maybe, indeed, we should seek to move the lower gods (of the unconscious?) that dwell on the rivers that run through (humanity's) hell. It was just the next year, in 1901, that Freud still quite exuberantly opened his exploration of parapraxes (Standard Edition [S.E.] 6:vii) with lines from Faust:
Now fills the air so many a haunting shape
That no one knows how best he may escape.