at no time, though, has it been subjected to careful scrutiny as a respectable procedure warranting the serious and unprejudiced consideration of clinicians engaged in the study and treatment of mental or behavior disorders.
The variety of hypnoanalysis to be dealt with in the following discussion literally grew under the hand of the writer from the first tentative experiments in 1939 through to what at this writing is a respectable list of differing diagnostic categories. At no time did it spring forth full-blown and armored: its growth was independent, painful; its application cautious and, in truth, hesitant. It is as yet in a formative stage, and not all of its principles and precepts can be expounded. But, so far as it has matured in practice, it would seem to be at least a technique that merits, if nothing more, the critical appraisal of co-practitioners.
Hypnoanalysis is primarily an instrument, a method, a way of approach to the riddles of behavior posed by maladjustment, crime and psychopathology. As its name proclaims, it is a technique compounded of psychoanalysis and hypnosis. From psychoanalysis it has extracted certain procedural modes and the interpretative core. In return it acts to validate beyond question the data of analysis and to provide a fixative means for the therapy without which analysis is no more than an exercise in diagnosis. From hypnosis it has drawn a probe for penetration into the darkest recesses of human performing. In return it increases the scope and function of an ancient and honorable art, removes from it the stigmata of mystery, charlatanry and ill-fame, and recalls it from the limbo where it was so hastily consigned at the turn of the present century. But while it acknowledgesa sizable debt to both techniques, the very fact that it should have been necessary to call hypnoanalysis into existence is a proof of the inadequacy of each.
Suggestive or hypnotic therapy has been concerned almost solely with the alleviation of
symptoms.
Very likely this has been because its practice was confined almost exclusively to physicians, who notoriously subscribe to a faith that immediate ‘relief’ is everything. A course of hypnosis aimed specifically at amelioration may for a time obviate pain or discomfort. Symptoms disappear; the organism resumes its accustomed pattern of functioning. But the tragedy is that symptoms return, often under a different guise. In the enthusiasm for ‘cure’ the obligation to discover and deal with
causes
has been studiously and conveniently ignored by all except such flinty pioneers as Janet and the French school, and in this country Erickson and Kubie as well as various assorted daring souls at Bellevue and in Topeka.
Beyond this, hypnosis has been the victim of a series of malicious fictions that do not bear the light of investigation, yet have been propagated in the manner of tribal taboos on the basis of pontifical injunctions from the higher councils of Vienna, New York, Chicago and Boston. We shall weigh some of the evidence later.
As for psychoanalysis, it stands indicted for what Devereux has rightly called its “ritualistic” character; its insistence upon punctilious cant and unrelaxed ceremony. From it has arisen a virtual man-darinism that appears to be not only inflexible but also opposed to the public interest. The activities of psychoanalysts have by and large remained hidden from the public eye, since the bulk of humanity is excluded from the quiet of the analytic chamber; and consequently there has been developed about it and its devotees a lush, effete, decadent, even (in the public mind) an obscene repute. Thus its virility, the essential wholesomeness idealized for it by its founders, has been denied it by its own champions. And beyond its economic inexpediency and cultism of orthodoxy, its endlessness in point of time constitutes a barrier to practicability, especially when it is compared by the laity with the relative swiftness of modern