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About fifteen years ago a Russian 'Councillor of State', seventy-two years old, having left his country after the communistic revolution, came to live with his forty-year-old son Fedja and his daughter as emigrants in New York City. Fedja, although an active socialist, was a member of a moderate group and he could not remain in Russia. Here the family lived in very straightened circumstances. The daughter had married and had a baby. This younger family of three lived in one room, the old man with Fedja in an adjoining room. There was also a maid, Natasha, who slept in the kitchen—six people in an apartment of two rooms and a kitchen. They ate in the kitchen.
In spite of all that they would not have complained had it not been for Fedja's illness. For two years Fedja, seemingly healthy before, had been subject to spells of 'absentmindedness' (petit mal). In the midst of talking the would stop, remain standing or sitting, and stare, obviously not aware of his surroundings. Such spells lasted a few minutes. Afterwards he resumed his normal mien and he would not have known that anything had happened were it not for the bewildered looks of those around him.
These spells became increasingly frequent despite medication with luminal. The father came with his son to consult me although he did not believe in psychoanalysis. He came to it as a last resort. That the old man did not conceal his scepticism made his son's treatment difficult. Should Fedja, very dependent upon his father, timidly express the opinion that he felt better, the old man would exclaim, 'Not at all; you are worse!' When the intervals between the spells became longer, the councillor of state said he considered this to be a mere coincidence. Fedja's sister felt indignant that her brother should be exposed