Arlow as Mentor and Friend

My own all too brief relationship with Jacob Arlow was marked by several personal moments that will always remain with me.

I had not yet read any of his papers in my first year of psychoanalytic training, and learned of his work on unconscious fantasy (Arlow 1969a, 1969b) from a classmate. Ten years earlier, a supervisor in my psychiatric residency at the Massachusetts Mental Health Center had taught that what we do in psychoanalytic therapy

is to “analyze fantasy.” As I began now to read Jack's work, I realized that it had been he who had created the climate to say such a thing, to understand the pervasive power of fantasy as a kind of medium in which we live, the stuff of the mind itself.

When, as a candidate, I had a paper accepted for presentation at the American Psychoanalytic Association, I naively wrote Jack to ask if he would discuss it. The then meeting manager for the American quickly but politely set me straight, explaining that it was her responsibility to select the discussant from a list she had been given. Jack turned my embarrassment into a gift, however, saying that he would try to come anyway. On the day of the presentation, I did not know he had arrived until Warren Poland, one of the chosen discussants, whispered, “You're drawing quite a crowd; Jack Arlow is here.” A man of decisive action, Jack walked to the podium after the formal commentaries and gave his discussion.

Several years later, in the fall of 1991, the New York Psychoanalytic Society organized a symposium in Jack's honor on “The Clinical Value of the Concept of Unconscious Fantasy” (Panel 1992), and Arnie Richards asked me to present a case. Anxious about doing so, I decided to take matters into my own hands and asked Jack if I might consult him in advance about a patient with whom I was having some difficulty, not the one I would present. He was gracious and set up a time for us to meet at his home in Great Neck, New York.

I will never forget the consultation. Skipping any pleasantrie