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I cannot restrain myself from violating a personal code of conduct by indulging in a cliché: Dr. Rittenberg's paper is indeed charming. But not, I would hasten to add, sleep producing. Quite the contrary, if we were sleepy it would charm us awake, like some good interpretations (not as a rule charming, although they can be on rare occasions).
Dr. Rittenberg's presentation fits beautifully into the central theme of this symposium, together with the papers of Drs. Horowitz, Goldberger, and Weinstein. He recalls to us the fact that psychoanalysis arose out of hypnosis. It is ironic to recognize that its development was determined at least in part by the circumstance that Freud, being far less charismatic and more inclined to self-doubt than Charcot, was a very poor hypnotist. Had he been a good one, where would we be today?
Dr. Rittenberg's patient pleads, “Tell me what to do (but put me to sleep first),” thus placing full responsibility on Svengali, the analyst. He not only gets sleepy, he draws the analyst toward sleep, paradoxically rendering him helpless at the same time. They sleep together, accomplishing in fantasy all of the complex meanings of that state, erotic and hostile, in a kind of Liebestod.
The occurrence of the spider points to the ultimate fantasy of deep sleep: the individual makes his way through or is sucked into the dark opening, into the mother's womb, attaining oedipal victory, only to enter paradise as a fetus. This is the kind of fantasy that is common in children, I suspect. Its reappearance during the course of adult analysis is facilitated by the very circumstances of the analytic setting.
It is interesting to note (as Ernst Kris pointed out) that so much of what has gone on in an analysis is readily forgotten, as if it had