The Finer Points of Sausage Dogs Read Online Free PDF Page B

do even that. He had always harboured the gravest mistrust of both Freudians and Freemasons, whom he regarded as being inextricably linked, but the task ahead of him had now acquired an urgency which could not be ignored: the reputation of the Institute, and that of
Portuguese Irregular Verbs
itself, could depend on bringing Unterholzer to heel before even more damaging attacks could be made. To this end, he was even prepared to wander into the Freudian cage itself and deal with whatever lion figures may be found within.
    Dr Max Augustus Hubertoffel of the
Huberto fel Klinik für Neurosen
und Psychopathologie
looked every inch a man who was suited to his calling. He was a slight, dapper man, with slickly parted hair, a Viennese bow-tie, and carefully polished black patent-leather shoes. His consulting rooms, discreetly tucked away in a quiet street in Regensburg’s professional quarter, were reached by a winding stair that culminated in a dark green door. On to this door had been screwed Dr Hubertoffel’s brass plate, into which von Igelfeld, recovering his breath from the stairs, now peered and saw his own face staring back.
    Once admitted to the analyst’s sanctum, von Igelfeld found the doctor looking at him politely over his desk. Von Igelfeld was asked a few questions and his answers were noted down by Dr Hubertoffel in a large black notebook. Then the latter gestured to a green baize-covered couch and invited von Igelfeld to lie down.
    The author of
Portuguese Irregular Verbs
settled himself on the couch. It was comfortable, but not so comfortable as to be soporific.

    ‘You may close your eyes, if you wish,’ said Dr Hubertoffel. ‘Some analysands prefer to do that, although there is always the danger of sleep if you do.’
    Von Igelfeld found himself wondering if Unterholzer closed his eyes during analysis, or whether he gazed up at Dr Hubertoffel’s ceiling and plotted. Indeed, it was quite possible that the idea of attacking
Portuguese Irregular Verbs
had been conceived on this very couch – oh hateful, hateful thought!
    ‘You will have heard of free association,’ said Dr Hubertoffel. ‘I find it a useful tool in the discovery of what is troubling a patient. Then, on the basis of this knowledge, I know what I should look out for during the process of analysis. The mind, you see, is full of dark furniture.’
    Von Igelfeld gave a start. Dark furniture? Was his own mind full of such a thing? Perhaps it was unwise to undertake analysis, even for the purpose of equipping himself to deal with Unterholzer. If the furniture of the mind was dark, then perhaps it would be best to leave it where it was – in the shadows.
    ‘So,’ said Dr Hubertoffel. ‘
The sea
.’
    ‘The sea?’ asked von Igelfeld.
    ‘Yes. I say
the sea
and you tell me what comes into your mind.’
    ‘The sea,’ said von Igelfeld.
    ‘No,’ said Dr Hubertoffel, patiently. ‘I said
the sea
. You tell me what you envisaged.’
    ‘I thought of the sea,’ said von Igelfeld. ‘That’s why I replied the sea when you said the sea.’
    Dr Hubertoffel tapped his pencil on the edge of his notebook. ‘You must think of something else,’ he said. ‘Don’t be too literal. I’ll try again.
Father
.’
    ‘Whiskers,’ said von Igelfeld.
    ‘Good,’ said Dr Hubertoffel. ‘That’s a very good reply. Your father had whiskers, I take it.’
    ‘No,’ said von Igelfeld. ‘But other boys’ fathers had them.’
    ‘
Oedipus
,’ went on Dr Hubertoffel.
    ‘Mother. No, uncle.’
    The psychoanalyst nodded. ‘Excellent. Now:
Scissors.
’
    ‘The Suck-a-Thumb Man,’ said von Igelfeld. ‘You’ll remember him from
The Struwelpeter
. He’s the man who came to cut off the thumbs of the children who sucked them. I was very frightened of him.’
    ‘And still are, perhaps?’ ventured Dr Hubertoffel. ‘The shades of the nursery are apt to linger. But let us move on.
Id
.’
    ‘Darkness. Inner