Tribute to Freud by H.D

Author:H.D.
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: New Directions Publishing
Published: 2012-06-19T16:00:00+00:00

76

So again I can say the Professor was not always right. That is, yes, he was always right in his judgments, but my form of rightness, my intuition, sometimes functioned by the split-second (that makes all the difference in spiritual time-computations) the quicker. I was swifter in some intuitive instances, and sometimes a small tendril of a root from that great common Tree of Knowledge went deeper into the sub-soil. His were the great giant roots of that tree, but mine, with hair-like almost invisible feelers, sometimes quivered a warning or resolved a problem, as for instance at the impact of that word stranger. “We’ll show him,” retorts the invisible intuitive rootlet; and, without forming the thought, the words “love me, love my dog” are there to prompt me. “He will see whether or not I am indifferent,” my emotion snaps back, though not in words. “If he is so wise, so clever,” the smallest possible sub-soil rootlet gives its message, “you show him that you too are wise, are clever. Show him that you have ways of finding out things about people, other than looking at their mere outward ordinary appearance.” My intuition challenges the Professor, though not in words. That intuition cannot really be translated into words, but if it could be it would go, roughly, something like this: “Why should I look at you? You are contained in the things you love, and if you accuse me of looking at the things in the room before looking at you, well, I will go on looking at the things in the room. One of them is this little golden dog. She snaps, does she? You call me a stranger, do you? Well, I will show you two things: one, I am not a stranger; two, even if I were, two seconds ago, I am now no longer one. And moreover I never was a stranger to this little golden Yofi.”

The wordless challenge goes on, “You are a very great man. I am overwhelmed with embarrassment, I am shy and frightened and gauche as an over-grown school-girl. But listen. You are a man. Yofi is a dog. I am a woman. If this dog and this woman “take” to one another, it will prove that beyond your caustic implied criticism — if criticism it is — there is another region of cause and effect, another region of question and answer.” Undoubtedly, the Professor took an important clue from the first reaction of a new analysand or patient. I was, as it happened, not prepared for this. It would have been worse for me if I had been.

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