Mania and Dreams can no longer be
attributed
to an individ- ual case.
KittlerNietzche-Incipit-Tragoedia
' Bleuler's as- sistant, Jung, investigated the psychotic wear and tear on the finished product of language.
The cocaine user Freud, however, in his great small-mindedness, would begin an analysis by considering a neurotic misuse of the finished product that is the alphabet. A twenty-four-year-old patient on the couch in the Berggasse told "the following story from the fifth year of his childhood": "He is sitting in the garden of a summer villa, on a small chair beside his aunt, who is teaching him the letters of the alphabet. He is in difficulties over the difference between m and n,and he asks his aunt to tell him how to know one from the other. His aunt points out to him that the m has a whole piece more than the n-the third stroke. "" The patient sees this as a romantic childhood scene, one that brings back summer and the histori- cal happiness of being alphabetized by the Mother's Mouth. The analyst does not dispute the reliability of the memory, but does question its imaginary significance. Had he done the former, Freud would have been like the physiologists of reading, who never encountered any confusion between m and n (only confusion between n and r, and m and w ) . Be- cause he was concerned more with the differences between letters than with letters, and more with letters than with significance, Freud trans- posed the intervals in a language to the intervals in speech. At the very place where Stephani's mothers' mouths slid lustfully and continuously from m to n,Freud confirms a harsh binary opposition. The opposition between m and n stands in as a "symbolic representation" for another
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opposition that can and must be written as the patient's rebus. "For just as at that time he wanted to know the difference between m and n,so later he was anxious to find out the difference between boys and girls, and would have been very willing for this particular aunt to be the one to teach him. He also discovered then that the difference was a similar one- that the boy, too, has a whole piece more than the girl. ""
An inscription as meaningless as it is unforgettable can thus be de- coded. The triumph of the Freudian transposition of media is to have made it possible to solve singular problems of differentiation with an in- dividual experimental subject. Psychophysicists had certainly recognized that small letters at x-height "are most often subject to confusion";H but no one had asked why individual subjects (themselves as well) produced one kind of mistake and no other. Ebbinghaus was only surprised that nonsense exhibited "very significant and nearly incomprehensible dif- ferences" in what people retained (as the twenty-four-year-old demon- strated). Gutzmann was led only as far as "the discovery of certain sus- pected trains of thought" by the "phonographic tests" he conducted, in that experimental subjects automatically and suspiciously heard or wrote nonsense as meaningful words? ' But any aspects of test material that could not be evaluated physiologically or typographically were discarded. The discarded material was so copious and so literal that no one, includ- ing the twenty-four-year-old, could approach it save as a novice. This is the reason for psychoanalysis. Material discarded by psychophysics can be resorted and then decoded. Freud's discourse was a response not to individual miseries but to a discourse network that exhaustively records nonsense, its purpose being to inscribe people with the network's logic of the signifier.
Psychoanalysis made into something significant-indeed, into the sig- nifier itself-the nonsensical attribution of nonsense to the fact that someone confused precisely the letters m and n. An opposition of letters yields the minimal signifier of a sexualized body. From this point on, the patient knows that alphabetization was only a screen for his sexuality and that sexuality is only a metaphor for the elementary opposition. What is scandalous in Freud is not pansexuality, but the return to a lucid and tan- gible play of letters of an eroticism that, as Spirit and Nature, had per- vaded the so-called world circa 1800. The phallus is as nonsensical and block-letter-like as the small mark that the m has and the n does not have. No handwriting of a continuous individual can get around the latter difference, nor can any illusion in the war between the sexes survive the former difference. What the boy's aunt began as pedagogical educa- tion ends in a system of notation that abolishes pedagogy and the soul.
? What must be said, with Aristotle, is that it is not the soul that speaks, but man who speaks by means of his soul-as long as we take into account that he has received this language, and that in order to sustain it he throws in much more than his soul: even his instincts, whose ground resonates in the depths only to send back the echo of the signifier. It is such that when the echo returns the speaker is delighted and responds with the praise of an eternal romanticism. "When the soul speaks, then" . . . the soul does speak, that is, . . . "oh! it is no longer the soul that speaks. " You can hear it; the illusion will not last long. 4a
All of Freud's case histories demonstrate that the romanticism of the soul has yielded to a materialism of written signs. When a patient "deco- rates his writing and notes with an S," it is only because S is "the first letter of his mother's name" (and not, say, an abbreviation of author- ship). " When the Wolf-Man, recounting a dream, says Espe rather than the hallucinated Wespe ["wasp"], the amputation of the initial letter rep- resents a castration complex that is typographic, and the rebus word Espe is the abbreviation S. P. , or the proper name of the Wolf-Man. '" Precisely because they do not occur in nature, letters are the keys to the uncon- scious. They cancel out conscious intention and hermeneutic understand- ing in order to expose people to their subjection to language. But meth- odologically this means that Freud (to use a pervasive metaphor of 1900) was a proofreader. Instead of reading over mistakes because of his com- pletealphabetization,heseeksoutmistakes. " Inlinewithsuchprofession- alism,intheBerggassemistakessuchas(W)Espeareneitherproducednor recorded in writing. The patients speak; as a good interview psychologist, the doctor avoids taking notes during the session. Otherwise he would only disturb the flow of speech, make "a detrimental," that is, meaningful, "selection" and distract his free-floating attention with bureaucratic tasks. 'LPsychoanalysis provides the singular example of a discourse net- work that has writing as its object but writing's complete opposite as method. Even this rebus can be solved.
Just as the patient must relate everythingthat his self-observationcan detect, and keep back all the logical and affectiveobjectionsthat seek to induce him to make a selection from among them, so the doctor must put himself in a position to make use of everything he is told for the purposes of interpretation . . . without substituting a censorship of his own for the selection t h a t the patient has forgone. To put it in a formula, he must turn his own unconscious like a receptive organ towards the transmitting unconscious of the patient. He must adjust himself to the patient as a telephone receiver is adjusted to the transmitting microphone. Justasthereceiverconvertsbackintosound-wavestheelectricoscillationsin the telephone line which were set up by sound waves, so the doctor's unconscious is able, from the derivatives of the unconsciousness which are communicated to him, to reconstruct that unconscious, which has determined the patient's free associations. ''
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The paradox of writing without script can only be solved with tech- nological media. Freud, determined to sacrifice his knowing subjectivity, produces a transposition of media onto himself: his ears become a tele- phone receiver. As it is written, men have ears only in order not to hear (and to transform everything into sense). Only the connection between electroacoustical transducers guarantees the reception of a full spectrum of noise, one that is informative to the degree that it is white. Once more, the word is "Listen to the Sacred Vibrations. " All conscious "commu- nicating" between the two counts only as a keyed rebus transmitted from one unconscious to the other. Its manifest sense is nonsense; Freud the telephone receiver picks out the parapraxes that would be mere debris under a postulate of sense.
In order to be able to fish m/nor U P . as telltale, interspersed signifiers out of a flowof speech that is merely the intimidation and resistance, the se- duction and distortion, of a consciousness, the doctor must have recorded them in advance. Freud's telephone analogy does not go far enough. Al- though it avoids the traditional recording device of writing, psycho- analysis works like a phonograph that in its developed form couples electroacoustical transducers with memory. Only sound recorders can register spoken typographic errors (an oxymoronic concept in itself).
Benjamin synchronized psychoanalysis and film with the argument that the former "isolated and made analyzable things which had hereto- fore floated along unnoticed in the broad stream of perception," whereas the other "for the entire spectrum of optical, and now also acoustical, perception . . . has brought about a similar deepening of apperception. "" That doesn't quite do justice to the facts. Technologies and sciences of media transposition do not simply extend human capacities; they deter- mine recording thresholds. In the physiology of the senses these thresh- olds cannot be determined too exactly. Freud's treatment of dream and memory images is not the first or only instance of his exclusion of the whole optical realm. The fact that the doctor and hysteric patient are not allowed to look at one another means that the couch (in the best Nietzschean manner) is a pure realm of hearing. Both people are in the same room, so that eye and other forms of contact would be expected. But because mouths and ears have become electroacoustical transducers, the session remains a simulated long-distance call between two psychic apparatuses (in Freud's fine phrase). Psychoanalysis has no vague paral- lels to film; it has much more precisely learned the lesson of technological sound recorders. Its phonography of unconscious sound waves fishes, not in the wide stream of perception, but only among acoustical data.
The catch is restricted to discrete elements. Not only the imaginary sig- nificance, but also the real aspects of discourse are excluded. Freud had
? as little to d o with the physiology of speech (precisely, that studied by his teacher, E. W. Briicke) as he did with escaping to the images in the movies. Female hysterics, those born starlets, could run through, instead of the single "oh," the many real pleasures and pains of speech on the couch-from spastic halting to stuttering, clicking the tongue, gasping, or muteness-but the supposedly filterless receiver filtered them all out. Freud's inimitably forthright justification: he "could not," unlike any boy on the street, "imitate" these real aspects of speech. " The one who once diagnosed his own "motoric aphasia" recorded, in a complete reversal of Berliner'sgramophone,thelettersofsound-everything thatwasalready written, but only that, in the flow of speech. '6
Movies and the gramophone remain the unconscious of the uncon- scious. Psychoanalysis, the science born with them, confronts sequences of images with a primal repression and sequences of sound with their dis- tortion into chains of signifies Only the day when psychoanalysis be- comes psychochemistry-Freud's dream and the nightmare of others-si might wimess the repression of this repression as well.
A transposition of media that transposes images and sounds into letters does not stop there. By the force of its own logic it finally trans- ferred the letters into books. This is the relation between analytic practice and theory. What would have disturbed free-floating attention during the session later occurs after all: Freud reaches for his pen. As Walter Muschg recognized early on, Freud belonged "to the modem movement of Ger- man letters. " "
Writing circa 1900means being without voice and writing with the alphabet. Fundamentally, psychoanalysts must know when to remain si- lent vis-&vis their word-jumble generators. Not only for "persons with hysterical mutism" did writing become a "vicarious" means of expres- sion; s' the motoric aphasic behind the couch did not suffer from agraphia, either. Written case histories made a "talking cure" into-literature. The expression itself shows how this happened. Freud had no such striking expression for his invention; his first patient, Anna 0. (alias Bertha von Pappenheim), gave her "new type of treatment the name 'talking cure' [in English]. "" The writer in Freud had only to put the foreign words on paper and honor them by his definition.
But this relationship between speech and writing, prompter and au- thor, so fundamental between Freud and his hysteric patients, does not make him a Schlegel or Anselmus, or Pappenheim a Dorothea or Serpen- tina. The simple fact that Anna 0. "during this period of her illness re- markably spoke and understood only English,""' separated her from a Mother's Mouth that could whisper even Sanskrit texts in High German.
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The discourse network of 1900determined that Freud would not once put the expression "talking cure" into German. Psychoanalysis is not a translating universalization that makes the speech of many women into the originary language of One Woman. In practice as in theory, in listen- ing as in recording, psychoanalysis remained the feedback of data that circumscribed an individual case. "If" Freud's famous hysteric patient should "by chance" come to read the Fragment of her analysis, she would read nothing that she and only she did not "already know. " But because or in spite of this, an "embarrassment" awaits her:6zthe parts of her speech that have found their way into print are not the expressions of a na'ive lay philosophy of the sort that Schlegel ascribed to women, but of the organs and functions of her sexuality.
The meticulous Freud calls his activity the "written record" and "ac- cordingly not absolutely-phonographically-faithful. " But in this ex- plicit competition it has such a "high degree of dependability" that Wildenbruch would for once be made nervous by literature:' Every me- dium that brings the hidden to the light of day and forces the past to speak contributes, by gathering evidence, to the death of Man. This dis- tinguishes psychoanalytic case-study novels from the classical-romantic epic form. When Goethe put together his heroines from the different indi- vidual features of different women, inviting all feminine readers to iden- tify themselves with the Woman, the models, although they may have seen themselves robbed of eyes, hair, or mouths, hardly had the fear or pleasure of being publicly recognized. The discourse network of 1800 had no need of formal, legal guidelines about authorial discretion, be- cause it voluntarily, or philosophically, saw the individual as genus. Not until the current century did popular literature begin by disclaiming any similarity between fictional heroes and living models. One popular novel- ist, Thomas Mann, was drawn into an exemplary trial in 1905and had to defend Buddenbrooks against the charge of being a roman a clef by stressing the transposition of media as his artistic achievement. w In the same year, another novel "Fragment" began: "I am aware that-in this city, at least-there are many physicians who (revolting though it may seem) choose to read a case history of this kind not as a contribution to the psychopathology of neuroses, but as a roman B clef designed for their private delectation. I can assure readers of this species that every case his- tory that I have occasion to publish in the future will be secured against
their perspicacity by similar guarantees of secrecy, even though this reso- lution is bound to put quite extraordinary restrictions upon my choice of material. " 65
The novelist Freud thus does not rule out the novelistic reading of his case histories. He simply disapproves. It is possible, but distasteful, to de-
? code psychoanalytic decodings of individual cases. Such are the intimida- tion tactics of one who turned the subject index in Mayringer-Merer, excuse me, Meringer-Mayer, into a secret-person index. Such is the pro- tection of data records, which are exhaustive only because he, the discreet doctor, in a move of fine symmetry, forbade his patients to have any dis- cretion. Freud broke off the analysis of "a high official who was bound by his oath of office not to communicate certain things because they were state secrets. "" The shift from bureaucratic ethos to psychophysics, from an oath of office to the exhausting of material, could hardly occur more drastically. Writing circa 1900necessarily conflicted with rules of discre- tion-simply because it was no longer the imagination that dictated. Freud would sooner renounce writing books than subject signifiers to the kind of distortions that once translated recognizable, bourgeois Veronicas into the pure signified of a Serpentina.
If the distortions are slight, they fail in their object of protecting the patient from indiscreet curiosity; while if they go beyond this they require too great a sacrifice, for they destroy the intelligbility of the material, which depends for its coherence precisely upon the small details of real life. And from this latter circumstance fol- lows the paradoxical truth that it is far easier to divulge the patient's most inti- mate secret3 than the most innocent and trivial facts ahout him; for, whereas the former would not throw any light on his identity, the latter, by which he is gener- ally recognized, would make it obvious to everyone. 6-
What distinguishes case histories from Poetry is the fact that the depths of the soul do not betray the identities of the persons described to readers addicted to decoding. That Freud did not advance as far as the phono- graph, which with particulars like the voice or breath would have be- trayed persons' identities to even the most naive media consumers, is the very structure of writing. Only small, factual details remain as indices, which as people's symbolic aspect inscribe them in public networks of discourse. Certainly Freud's novels leave "no name standing which could put a lay reader onto the right track. ""* But because psychoanalysis is concerned with gathering evidence of the letter, names remain essential. Without the play of signifiers, whose differences are as incomprehensible as they are important, unconscious connections would be destroyed.
Under the hesitantly established heading, "The Presentation of Man" in Freud, Muschg writes of the "remarkably anonymous characters that occupy his writings. "6YIt is indeed a strange anonymity that consists of indices and names. Obsessional neurotics appear as the Rat-Man or Wolf-Man,'" hysterics as Anna O. , Frau Emmy v. N. , Dora, Fraulein Elizabeth v. R. For these figures the texts develop neither imaginative im- ages nor novels of Bildung-none of the representations of man in the Spirit of 1800,in other words. Only a mass of spoken material is pre-
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sented, through which unconscious inscriptions run their jagged, telltale course. The rebus is written down as rebus. Because Freud's own texts will be scrutinized by distasteful colleagues, the texts encode each rebus a second time according to the rules of media transposition. Thus wherever a rebus appears to be solved, another one begins (along with yet another book on Freud). Anyone who can decipher the initials of the Wolf-Man in the castrated word (W)Espe,just as the formidable Sherlock Holmes discovered the place name Ballarat in the ordinary word rat,-'has still not fixed upon a referent, to say nothing of a man behind the words. Simmel's objective interpretation allows for solutions quite other than those of the author; Freud permitted and practices "Constructions in Analysis,"-2 which beyond psychoanalytic practice determined the constructions of his writing as well. The surname of the Wolf-Man has only recently been revealed. For seventy years it was anyone's guess as to whether the initials S. P. corresponded to the Wolf-Man's passport or whether they were the discreet fiction of a writer who had encoded a solved rebus a second time.
Small facts like initials or abbreviated names are thus quite literally the contact surface on which two discourses oppose and touch one another: on one side the speech of the patients, on the other side the writing voca- tion of their doctor. It is finally impossible to determine which of the two one might be reading at any given moment, simply because inscriptions on one side trace through to the reverse side. The contact surface-as is only proper in a discourse network that does justice to the material as- pects of media-consists simply of paper. Whether in Freud's sense or not, his paper is and remains the place where the discourse network of 1900comes into contact with people. Either the patients really spoke as if speech were a masquerade for the rebus, or psychoanalysis selected from the flow of the voice only what it could transpose into signifiers and then transpose a second time to foil roman a clef readers. In any case, psycho- analysis occupies the systemic position taken by Poetry in the discourse network of 1800. The position consists in the place of initiation. If voices and dream images are to be grounded in the logic of the signifier, they must first cross the threshold of psychoanalysis; if, in return, any rituals of the sign or psychophysics are to be inscribed on individual bodies, they must first cross the threshold of psychoanalysis. The discourse network of 1900 places all discourse against the background of white noise; the pri- mal soup itself appears in psychoanalysis, but only to be articulated and thus sublimated via writing proper. "
There is nothing further to say about the wider effects of such a strat- egy. The only nontrivial problem is one of method. If Freud's technique consists in transposing optical and acoustical streams of data into words
? and words into the signifier script of his own texts, then his universal sci- ence confronts only one superfluity or impossibility: data that have al- ready assumed written form. Wherever articulation has already occurred, "the dissection and division of something that would otherwise be lost in the primal soup" is unnecessary. Thus Freud granted texts, regardless of who their authors were, a special status. Whether or not the texts were distinguished by literary honors was secondary to a certain testimonial function . -4
The pact between Freud and the people who believed that dreams could be read, despite the objections of all philosophers, would have had no discursive support if the spoken dream stories of patients had not been media-transposed by literary dream texts and confirmed by the ordinary documentary means of pen and paper. The mere written existence of Jensen's Gradiva, a novella about mania and dreams, was sufficient to de- fend Freud against attack. That it is not of particularly enduring value, that its author "refused his co-operation"-' when approached and thus would not personally authorize its transposition into the medium of psy- choanalysis, is insignificant. Objective interpretation can do without au- thorial assent. Freud thus reached the following conclusion on the rela- tionship between writers and analysts: "We probably draw from the same source and work upon the same object, each of us by another method. And the agreement of our results seems to guarantee that we have both worked correctly. Our procedure consists in the conscious ob- servation of abnormal mental processes in other people so as to be able to elicit and announce their laws. The author no doubt proceeds differently. He directs his attention to the unconscious in his own mind, he listens to its possible developments and lends them artistic expression instead of suppressing them by conscious criticism. Thus he experiences from him- self what we learn from others-the laws which the activities of this un- conscious must obey. But he need not state these laws, nor even be clearly aware of them; as a result of the tolerance of his intelligence, they are incorporated within his creations. "'"
The same source, the same object, the same result-writers and psycho- analysts moved into a proximity equal to that which joined the Thinkers and Poets of I 800. Yet the reverse conclusion is equally possible and logi- cal: namely, that writers end up on the side of the patients. If Freud's pa- tients and the hero of the novella share the same dreams, paranoid struc- tures, and hysterias, then these must belong to the writer's unconscious as well. There is one small difference, however: hysteria speaks, but Jensen publishes.
Mania and Dreams can no longer be attributed to an individ- ual case. The material already present in the medium that supports the psychoanalyst has achieved "artistic expression. " Rather than proceeding
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according to the rules of hermeneutics and assuming that fictional heroes naturally dream the dreams of their authors, Freud finds in Gradiva writ- ten dreams "that have never been dreamt at all, that were invented by a writer and attributed to fictional characters in the context of a story. "- Therefore, there is no need to pomon out statistically distributed non- sense to individual cases. Jensen, no different in this from Freud, is sepa- rated by a thin but impermeable piece of paper from its reverse side, from mania and dreams, and is above the suspicion of being their referent. His relation to the primal soup is not one of participation, but simulation. For invented individuals he invents dreams that in spite of this squared fiction "contain in embodied form" all the "laws" of the unconscious. Laws, let us note, and not, say (asone often prefers to read) contents. With its cen- tral metaphor, the burial of Pompeii under lava and ash, Jensen's novella does not symbolize this or that repressed content, but rather provides a "parable" of the metapsychological process of repression itself. "There really is no better analogy. "'R
In distinction from the doctor (Freud once more leaves out the mystery of his self-analysis), the writer does not extrapolate the laws of the un- conscious from others' mouths, which are unable to say why their sense becomes nonsense and their nonsense sense. A strange listening in on his own mental processes gives him not only their repressed contents but be- yond that their signifying logic. Once again, then, the writer seeks out a nom-like authority, which administers the rules of all writing. but be- cause they are rules, it remains unnecessary and impossible to "pro- nounce" the unconscious laws that have been discovered. It is enough that they have been given a material location: paper, on which discursive rules such as repression are "embodied. "
In written material, therefore, the localization that defines psycho- analysis in the discourse network of 1900is left out-because it has al- ready occurred. If the diverse local centers of the brain-physiological localization doctrine are linked together in the typewriter, psychoanaly- sis-m ysteriously true to its neurophysiological beginnings-reverses the founding relationship. Its textual theory replaces that body with a type- writerly corpus.
The text as embodied psychoanalysis does not distinguish the literary or even the classical. It is simply the effect of a medium that governs the analyst himself, First when he reads the flow of the voice as a rebus, and second when he writes. In order to achieve this effect, it is sufficient for a mania, rather than flood Freud's senses with hysterical visuality and the spoken faqade of dreams, to have been written down. If and because a work called Memoirs of My Nervous Illness is present in the form of a
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book, psychoanalysis treats it very differently than it would a mentally ill person on the couch.
Freud's "Psycho-analytic Notes on an Autobiographical Account of a Case of Paranoia" seems at first to be a compromise solution arrived at in an attempt to extend his practice to cases who, in contrast to neurotics, cannot wander around freely and so (if they have not lost language alto- gether) can only send out messages in bottles. Paranoiacs cannot be ana- lyzed; they "cannot be compelled to overcome their internal resistances, and . . . in any case they only say what they choose to say. " Such, how- ever,eversincePilate's6yiypa& yiypa& ("WhatIhavewritten Ihave written"; John 19:22),is the very definition of a text. Which is why "pre- cisely" in the case of a paranoiac "a written report or a printed case his- tory can take the place of personal acquaintance with the patient" (read:
. his spoken story). "
So much for the introduction to and justification for the analytic act.
By the end everything reads much differently. Schreber's book, instead of simply replacing the flow of the hysteric's voice, attains all the honors of theory, in that the Memoirs of My Nervous Illness also contains what is indeed memorable: the embodied laws of the unconscious. As with Jensen, the writer Freud greets as a colleague, albeit one who was at the time a patient in the Sonnenstein asylum in Pima.
Since I neither fear the criticism of others nor shrink from criticizing myself, 1 have no motive for avoiding the mention of a similarity which may possibly dam- age our libido theory in the estimation of many of my readers. Schreber's "rays of God," which are made up of a condensation of the sun's rays, of nerve-fibres, and of spermatazoa, are in reality nothing else than a concrete representation and pro- jection outwards of libidinal cathexes; and they thus lend his delusions a striking conformity with our theory. . . . these and many other details of Schreber's delu- sional structure sound almost like endopsychic perceptions of the processes whose existence I have assumed in these pages as the basis of our explanation of paranoia. I can nevertheless call a friend and fellow-specialist to wimess that I had developed my theory of paranoia before I became acquainted with the con- tents of Schreber's book. It remains for the future to decide whether there is more delusion in my theory than 1should like to admit, or whether there is more truth in Schreber's delusion than other people are as yet prepared to believe. *"
After seventy-five pages of interpretation, Freud proclaims that inter- pretation has hardly been necessary. He finds the basic assumptions of his libido theory in Schreber also. There could be no clearer literary testi- mony from one author to another. Here psychoanalysis runs into legal difficulties quite different from those encountered in writing case histo- ries: in case histories, the analyst must protect the identities of those de- scribed, but here the author must protect his copyright. In Schreber'scase
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"the object of the analysis is not actually a person, but rather a book produced by that person," and so "the problem of professional discretion does not enter in. "" Yet a more serious problem raises its head. In order to present Schreber as a mere witness and not cede him the psvchoana- lytic copyright, Freud has to call another wimess to the stand. A psychia- trist friend will swear to the fact that the patient and his analyst (in the terms customary for fictional disclaimers) arrived independently at the same results.
Psychoanalytic discourse itself must be at stake if its founder moves to head off charges of plagiarism. In fact, Schreber'smania archives as body and text the libido theory that psychoanalysis reached only through the long detours of interpretation. Schreber's relation to the theory is that of all writers. Jensen, according to Freud, could register and write down processes occurring "in his own mind"; Schreber, according to Freud, does this with "endopsychic perceptions. " The Memoirs depicts a nerve- diseased body as the theater for whole theomachies, where divine nerve rays invade and retreat, destroy organs and extract brain fiber, lay down lines of communication and transmit information-a psychic informa- tion system that Freud takes at its word rather than as mania. Freud is not so believing at other points, as, for example, when the paranoiac accuses his psychiatrist, Flechsig, of persecutorial intent; behind this image of his colleague Freud senses only the patient's father. In describing the mind as information system, however, the psychotic text, which describes the sys- tem throughout its four hundred pages, is said to be the unmetaphoric truth.
There are grounds for this methodological distinction. The Oedipus complex is the nucleus of the neuroses, but the mental apparatus is co- extensive with psychoanalysis itself. Only by "assuming the existence of a spatially extended, advantageously constructed apparatus developed in meeting the exigencies of life," can Freud build his science "on a basis similar to that of other natural sciences. " But these bases are not available for experimental verification. One can only infer them with the help of "artificial aids," because "'reality' will always remain 'unknowable. ""' Accordingly, "reality" would be a necessary and impossible limit concept on the edge of the system, were it not for Schreber's endopsychic per- ceptions, which without doubt describe a body, his own, as a spatially extended mental apparatus. The corpus of the psychotic text provides psychoanalysis with its indispensable but undiscoverable basis: a body. A body is the piece of evidence without which psychoanalysis, by con- temporary standards, would have remained empty speculation.
From the first, aphasia studies had made brain localization into a methodological space; psychoanalysis becomes the destination of the
? long route that traverses this space. Schreber's mania guarantees that there is "not more mania contained" in analytic theory than its inventor would "wish. " Processes that allow endopsychic perceptions in an expe- rimental subject, however delirious, cannot not exist from a psycho- physical standpoint. Schreber's body is the verso of the pages Freud filled with writing.
The Doctor of Law Daniel Paul Schreber (1842-I~II)s,on of the widely known inventor of the Schreber garden, which is still cultivated on the edge of German cities, entered the Leipzig University Nerve Clinic of Dr. Paul Emil Flechsig in 1884 as a failed candidate for the Reichstag, was released in 1885, was appointed in 1893 to the second highest judi- cial position in the Kingdom of Saxony, the Presidency of the Senate of the Supreme Court, immediately thereafter entered Flechsig's clinic once more, was transferred several times, was released in 1902, and in 1907 was finally institutionalized until his death. The Memoirs appeared in a private edition in 1903 with the declared intention of allowing "expert examination of my body and observation of my personal fate during my lifetime. " "'
Freud's "Psycho-analytic Notes" thus appeared just at the moment to filloutandcashthisblankcheck. *'In 1911,whoevergavehisbodyover to science would get a response posthaste. Not only is the mental appa- ratus, as described by the psychotic and psychoanalytic corpus, a single, highly complex information system; the two corpora in tandem consti- tute this system a second time. Tidings of the impossible reality reach the symbolic, via media transposition. Freud receives what Schreber sends; Schreber sends what Freud receives. All that remains unsaid is why the whole discourse network worked so promptly and precisely around one individual body. Freud was much too concerned with the testimonial value of the received messages to investigate the logic of the channels. What Schreber writes, what writers write-everything became for Freud an anticipation of psychoanalysis. And he is not alone in this. Schreber too grants poets like Wagner occasional anticipations of his neuro- theology. " In the competition for corporeal knowledge, then, the ques- tion about which channels of knowledge constitute the body is left out. The discourse network of 1900 withholds its proper name.
The Memoirs constitutes an ''exhaustion''a6of Schreber's body while he was still alive. The transposition of a body into a corpus was just as necessary-namely, as necessary for survival-as was the fictional com- poser Lindner's transposition of letter to note values. After Schreber has published his book (against the wishes of his family and the medical es- tablishment), the natural sciences of the mind have only to open it-and
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? Schreber's person is "offer[ed]. . . as an object of scientific observation for the judgment of experts. " Otherwise, "at some future time" the ex- perts could only confirm "such peculiarities of my nervous system . . . by dissection of my body,'' for "1 am informed that it is extremely difficult to make such observations on the living body. ''87
Schreber as writer or Schreber as anatomical preparation-these are the only alternatives in the discourse network of 1900. Like all writers of the epoch, he plays the role of the "victim of his own writing,"nnin order to be able, in place of his autopsy, to prepare refuse, a bodily substitute, a text. Only thus can his case remain "soul murder"*9and not descend to the postmortem examination of those peculiarities that make people with nervous diseases so attractive to their psychiatrists. The patient dissects his own organs and notes their modifications while he is still alive, with a positivism that honors psychophysics and comes close to correcting fac- tually Kraepelin's Psychiatry (on the subject of hallucinations). Schreber thus practiced, as if to realize Nietzsche's assertion "for there is no soul," preventative soul murder.
But "soul murder"-in Schreber's divine "primary-" or "nerve-lan- guage" an autonym for the neurophysiological relationship between him and God-is also a chapter title in Ellen Key's The Century of the Child. Schreber could once more confront his blind exegetes and their multiple associations on the phrase, with the extent of his reading of contempo- rary works, which aside from Kraepelin, Du Prel, and Haeckel, also in- cluded her. What is called divine nerve-language in divine nerve-language and not accidentally contains many "expressions which would never have occurred to" Schreber, namely expressions "of a scientific, and par- ticularlymedicalnature,"n issimplythecodeoftheepoch. In1903itdid not take private religious illuminations to reduce, in the first sentence of one's book, the soul to nervous tissue and to the language of nervous tissue, or in the final sentences to see one's own mental illness "in the sense of a nervous illness," although not in its ordinary sense. "
But if the soul has only neurophysiological reality, university nerve clinics are more likely than Ellen Key's schools to be responsible for soul murder. A book that does not bear the title Memoirs of M y Nervous III- ness was unable to use the words nervous illness without the epithet so- called, and set forth from the beginning the doctrine that there are "no independent illnesses of the mind without those of the body. "9LThe book is Paul Flechsig's inaugural lecture as the second professor of psychiatry in the history of the University of Leipzig. The first was named Johann Heinroth and was faithful to Hoffbauer and Rei1 in teaching the "mis- taken doctrine" of mental cures. A "chasm" thus "gaped" between him and his successor Flechsig, one "no less deep and wide than the chasm
? between medieval medicine" and modem medicine. " In "the age of Flechsig and Wernicke," (Benn's term)," souls became nerve information systems, and cures became experiments. The "'localization of nervous diseases"' entered "a new epoch" (as Freud says)9'with Flechsig, who posed for his festschrift photograph in front of the picture of a massive, cut-open brain. Only the individual case created difficulties, relative ones, in the Leipzig University Nerve Clinic; only curing such a case created absolute difficulties. On the one hand, the brain contains "the key to every natural conception of mental activity" and a fortiori to those of mental di~turbancesO. ~n~the other, "the protected position of the brain" means that the substratum of the psychoses, namely, chemical and physi- cal nerve damage, "can be detected in the living only through more or less composite inferences. " Thus the psychiatrist Flechsig was impelled onto a royal diagnostic road that was simultaneously a therapeutic dead end: "the emphasis on postmortem e~amination. "~-
No sooner said than done. The corpse of Holderlin, an insane or, in other words, not bureaucratically employed teacher, was among the first to enter the new order of things via the dissection table. %The corpse of Schreber, a judicial bureaucrat who had gone over into the new order, suffered the same, now foreseeable, fate (withoutthe feared or hoped-for modifications in nervous tissue being found). "
And yet, what was said had already been done. After Flechsig decreed postmortem examination to be the psychiatric royal road, Schreber's dis- creet, anonymous reference to having "been informed" about the diffi- culties of in vivo diagnosis of insanity is superfluous. In Schreber's case, the situation of the text leaves no doubt: the imaginative copyright to the patient's theology, developed from the notion of the epistemological ad- vantages of being a corpse, belongs to Paul Flechsig. '"
The above picture of the nature of God and the continued existence of the human soul after death differs markedly in some respects from the Christian views on these matters. I t seems to me that a comparison between the two can only favour the former. God was not omniscient and omnipresent in the sense that He contzn- uously saw inside every individual living person, perceived every feeling of his nerves, that is to say at all times "tried his heart and reins. " But there was no need for this because after death the nerves of human beings with all the impressions they had received during life lay bare before God's eye, so that an unfailingly just judgment could be reached as to whether they were worthy of being received into the realms of heaven. '"'
The precision of this image of God is equaled only by Flechsig's festschrift photograph. Everything runs according to the plan set out in Flechsig's inaugural lecture, Bruin and Soul. That God can discipline his still-living victims with mental cures or psychological introspection is an age-old fallacy. The soul consists of nervous tissue, which makes in vivo inves-
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tigation impossible, but the nerves are perfect data recorders and for that reason will yield all their secrets to the clinical eye at the moment of dis- section. In other words: according to this theology, "within the Order of the World, God did not really understand the living human being and had no need to understand him, because, according to the Order of the World, He dealt only with corpses," until he initiated his world-order- defying relationship to Schreber. '">The theology simply equates God with the professor. Psychophysics banned all introspection, and theology complied; Flechsig restricted all diagnoses to corpses, and pious Schreber, performing the written dissection of his nerves, could only accommodate him. With that Schreber fabricated, to the joy of Freud, once a neu- rologist, the impossible piece ofevidence for psychoanalysis: endopsychic perceptions of brain functions.
Channels of information are indeed intimately linked. Schreber's case, rather than being an independent and indubitable piece of evidence for a libido theory, demonstrates the nexus between psychophysics and psy- choanalysis. As reader and writer, Freud walked blindly into the dis- course network to which he himself belonged. The Project for a Scientific Psychology and the Memoirs of M y Nervous IIIness are two continua- tions of a single discourse. No wonder they ran into the plagiarism prob- lem of being reverse sides of one another.
Just where Freud could have resolved the imaginary rivalry, his keen intellect failed before the discourse of the Other. Although he cannot not have noticed that the language of Schreber's nerves and delirium is the language of the experimental neurologist Flechsig,"" his interpretation systematically replaces the name Flechsig with that of the inventor of the Schreber Garden. All the patient's sentences concerning his doctor and "God Flechsig"'" are treated only as the displacement of a homosexual libido directed at the father. With this, Freud founded the boundless Schreber literature that anchors all the sufferings of Schreber fils in the wild childrearing methods of Daniel Gottlieb Moritz Schreber. The head bandages or orthopedic bed invented by Schreber senior and mentioned in passing in the Memoirs are then declared the "true background of Schreber'sconception of God as One Who knows man only as a corpse. " I"' Flechsig's message of the death of man, more hidden than Nietzsche's, has not reached the exegetes. Again and again the attempt is made to explain
the second industrial revolution by the first: Schreher as information sys- tem is related to orthopedic mechanics, the writing machine in Kafka's "Penal Colony" to frieze heads and planers. But nerve-language remains nerve-language, and typewriters with their own specially constructed means of making script visible are Underwood models. '" The system of 1900could spare itself the effort to spare muscular energy because it un-
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dertook to create substitutions for the central nervous system itself. Be- yond mechanical head bandages, Schreber's paranoia followed the lead of an insane neurophysiologist. His book begins (running the risk of libel suits) with an open letter to Flechsig, asking the distinguished privy coun- selor to put aside his anger for once, as the undersigned has done, and answer the rigorous scientific query whether he possibly
like so many doctors, could not completely resist the temptation of using a patient in your care us an object for scientific experiments apart from the real purpose of cure, when by chance matters of the highest scientific interest arose. One might even raise the question whether perhaps all the talk of voices about somebody having committed soul murder can be explained by the souls (rays) deeming it impermissible that a person's nervous system should be influenced by another's to the extent of imprisoning his will power, such as occurs during hypnosis. "'-
The professor in Leipzig never answered this open letter (which appeared in Leipzig). Whereas Schreber could embroil his later psychiatrists in expert-testimony disputes, which his legal understanding helped him to win, the soul murderer maintained a silence that even today puts exegetes on the wrong track. All the interest in Schreber's so-called father prob- lems substitutes consanguinity for enmity, causality for war. But the clas- sical pedagogic power of Schreber senior can only be equated with the extremely efficient disposition of power in 1900. "T'~he nerve-language at the basis of the new disposition states that "an educative influence di- rected outwards" has been played out. '"'' Because God or psychiatrists, according to the world order, can only know corpses, a temptation to conduct psychophysical experiments arises. "The miracles directed against my bead and the nerves of my head""" inscribe themselves into the nervous system without a pedagogic detour and substitute an experi- mental arrangement for the impossible cure for paranoia. The practical consequence is that anything identifiable as "influences on my nervous systememanatingfromyour[Flechsig's]nervoussystem" breaksdownin the discourse of the doctor or experimenter into "mere 'hallucinations"' of his patient. "'
If psychophysics can explain its effects out of existence, then experi- mental subjects have no choice but open warfare and thus publication. Schreber writes to Flechsig in Flechsig's language in order to demonstrate in the latter's own territory that Schreber's purported hallucinations are facts effectuated by the discourse of the Other. The Memoirs stand and fight in the war of two discourse networks. They constitute a small dis- course network with the single purpose of demonstrating the dark reality of another, hostile one.
The mentioned writing-down-system is extraordinarily difficult to explain to other people even vaguely. . . .
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Books or other notes are kept in which for years have been written-down all my thoughts, all my phrases, all my necessaries, all the articles in my possession or around me, all personswith whom I come into contact, etc. I cannot say with certainty who does the writing down. As I cannot imagine God's omnipotence lacks all intelligence, I presume that the writing down is done by creatures given human shape on distant celestial bodies . . . but lacking all intelligence; their hands are led automatically, as it were, by passing rays for the purpose of making them write down, so that later rays can again look at what has been written.
To illuminate the purpose of this whole system I must enlarge further. "'
Enlarging somewhat further, it first of all should be explained that rays are nerve-language information channels that maintain a psychotechni- cal, material link between Schreber and Flechsig (or his incarnation as God), very much counter to the conditions of the world order. Rather than manifesting Himself only to corpses, God occupies SchreberS ner- vous system by innervating all local language centers with the exception of the external speech apparatus; that is, like a good aphasia researcher, he stimulates only sensory and motoric word images. "'No wonder, then, that the nerve-language appears to be hallucinated, no wonder that it can also bridge cosmic distances. According to Flechsig, who wrote an influ- ential monograph on nerve tracts, "the greatest part of the human cere- brum'' consists "in nothing more than millions of well-isolated circuits, measuring thousands of kilometers. "'" All the data on Schreber wanders through such interwoven cables to its destination on distant planets. The information comes in, is registered, and can be reread by other rays, which are preparing to move in the opposite direction. The neurologist- god of 1900 is a single discourse network. Whether he (like the gods of Rousseau or the Apocalypse) still uses the book as a storage bank no longer matters. All books are discourse networks, but not all discourse networks are books. If the recording occurs mechanically and without any Geist, the probability of its being a purely technical procedure is greater. "It is presumably a phenomenon like telephoning. " There is, for example, the appearance of a writing angel in the trademark of a gramophone company.
It is no accident that the neurotheological discourse network stores particulars, and stores them exhaustively. Not one of Schreber's thoughts, sentences, or personal possessions is left out. The paranoid machine op-
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erates like an integrated system of all the data-storage devices that revolu- tionized recording circa 1900. And because its strategy was aimed not at statistical series but at exhausting the arbitrary case of Schreber, it also exemplifies the methodological project at the basis of psychoanalysis.
In 1882Stanley Hall began, in what was still a very statistical proce- dure, to gather material for a study entitled Tl7eContentsof Children's Minds. Soon thereafter the investigation also included individual cases, as when the vocabulary and neologistic creations of two thirteen-year-old girls were inventoried. 'IhConsequently, Erdmann could define even a po- etic vocabulary as a denumerable group of words.
The cocaine user Freud, however, in his great small-mindedness, would begin an analysis by considering a neurotic misuse of the finished product that is the alphabet. A twenty-four-year-old patient on the couch in the Berggasse told "the following story from the fifth year of his childhood": "He is sitting in the garden of a summer villa, on a small chair beside his aunt, who is teaching him the letters of the alphabet. He is in difficulties over the difference between m and n,and he asks his aunt to tell him how to know one from the other. His aunt points out to him that the m has a whole piece more than the n-the third stroke. "" The patient sees this as a romantic childhood scene, one that brings back summer and the histori- cal happiness of being alphabetized by the Mother's Mouth. The analyst does not dispute the reliability of the memory, but does question its imaginary significance. Had he done the former, Freud would have been like the physiologists of reading, who never encountered any confusion between m and n (only confusion between n and r, and m and w ) . Be- cause he was concerned more with the differences between letters than with letters, and more with letters than with significance, Freud trans- posed the intervals in a language to the intervals in speech. At the very place where Stephani's mothers' mouths slid lustfully and continuously from m to n,Freud confirms a harsh binary opposition. The opposition between m and n stands in as a "symbolic representation" for another
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opposition that can and must be written as the patient's rebus. "For just as at that time he wanted to know the difference between m and n,so later he was anxious to find out the difference between boys and girls, and would have been very willing for this particular aunt to be the one to teach him. He also discovered then that the difference was a similar one- that the boy, too, has a whole piece more than the girl. ""
An inscription as meaningless as it is unforgettable can thus be de- coded. The triumph of the Freudian transposition of media is to have made it possible to solve singular problems of differentiation with an in- dividual experimental subject. Psychophysicists had certainly recognized that small letters at x-height "are most often subject to confusion";H but no one had asked why individual subjects (themselves as well) produced one kind of mistake and no other. Ebbinghaus was only surprised that nonsense exhibited "very significant and nearly incomprehensible dif- ferences" in what people retained (as the twenty-four-year-old demon- strated). Gutzmann was led only as far as "the discovery of certain sus- pected trains of thought" by the "phonographic tests" he conducted, in that experimental subjects automatically and suspiciously heard or wrote nonsense as meaningful words? ' But any aspects of test material that could not be evaluated physiologically or typographically were discarded. The discarded material was so copious and so literal that no one, includ- ing the twenty-four-year-old, could approach it save as a novice. This is the reason for psychoanalysis. Material discarded by psychophysics can be resorted and then decoded. Freud's discourse was a response not to individual miseries but to a discourse network that exhaustively records nonsense, its purpose being to inscribe people with the network's logic of the signifier.
Psychoanalysis made into something significant-indeed, into the sig- nifier itself-the nonsensical attribution of nonsense to the fact that someone confused precisely the letters m and n. An opposition of letters yields the minimal signifier of a sexualized body. From this point on, the patient knows that alphabetization was only a screen for his sexuality and that sexuality is only a metaphor for the elementary opposition. What is scandalous in Freud is not pansexuality, but the return to a lucid and tan- gible play of letters of an eroticism that, as Spirit and Nature, had per- vaded the so-called world circa 1800. The phallus is as nonsensical and block-letter-like as the small mark that the m has and the n does not have. No handwriting of a continuous individual can get around the latter difference, nor can any illusion in the war between the sexes survive the former difference. What the boy's aunt began as pedagogical educa- tion ends in a system of notation that abolishes pedagogy and the soul.
? What must be said, with Aristotle, is that it is not the soul that speaks, but man who speaks by means of his soul-as long as we take into account that he has received this language, and that in order to sustain it he throws in much more than his soul: even his instincts, whose ground resonates in the depths only to send back the echo of the signifier. It is such that when the echo returns the speaker is delighted and responds with the praise of an eternal romanticism. "When the soul speaks, then" . . . the soul does speak, that is, . . . "oh! it is no longer the soul that speaks. " You can hear it; the illusion will not last long. 4a
All of Freud's case histories demonstrate that the romanticism of the soul has yielded to a materialism of written signs. When a patient "deco- rates his writing and notes with an S," it is only because S is "the first letter of his mother's name" (and not, say, an abbreviation of author- ship). " When the Wolf-Man, recounting a dream, says Espe rather than the hallucinated Wespe ["wasp"], the amputation of the initial letter rep- resents a castration complex that is typographic, and the rebus word Espe is the abbreviation S. P. , or the proper name of the Wolf-Man. '" Precisely because they do not occur in nature, letters are the keys to the uncon- scious. They cancel out conscious intention and hermeneutic understand- ing in order to expose people to their subjection to language. But meth- odologically this means that Freud (to use a pervasive metaphor of 1900) was a proofreader. Instead of reading over mistakes because of his com- pletealphabetization,heseeksoutmistakes. " Inlinewithsuchprofession- alism,intheBerggassemistakessuchas(W)Espeareneitherproducednor recorded in writing. The patients speak; as a good interview psychologist, the doctor avoids taking notes during the session. Otherwise he would only disturb the flow of speech, make "a detrimental," that is, meaningful, "selection" and distract his free-floating attention with bureaucratic tasks. 'LPsychoanalysis provides the singular example of a discourse net- work that has writing as its object but writing's complete opposite as method. Even this rebus can be solved.
Just as the patient must relate everythingthat his self-observationcan detect, and keep back all the logical and affectiveobjectionsthat seek to induce him to make a selection from among them, so the doctor must put himself in a position to make use of everything he is told for the purposes of interpretation . . . without substituting a censorship of his own for the selection t h a t the patient has forgone. To put it in a formula, he must turn his own unconscious like a receptive organ towards the transmitting unconscious of the patient. He must adjust himself to the patient as a telephone receiver is adjusted to the transmitting microphone. Justasthereceiverconvertsbackintosound-wavestheelectricoscillationsin the telephone line which were set up by sound waves, so the doctor's unconscious is able, from the derivatives of the unconsciousness which are communicated to him, to reconstruct that unconscious, which has determined the patient's free associations. ''
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The paradox of writing without script can only be solved with tech- nological media. Freud, determined to sacrifice his knowing subjectivity, produces a transposition of media onto himself: his ears become a tele- phone receiver. As it is written, men have ears only in order not to hear (and to transform everything into sense). Only the connection between electroacoustical transducers guarantees the reception of a full spectrum of noise, one that is informative to the degree that it is white. Once more, the word is "Listen to the Sacred Vibrations. " All conscious "commu- nicating" between the two counts only as a keyed rebus transmitted from one unconscious to the other. Its manifest sense is nonsense; Freud the telephone receiver picks out the parapraxes that would be mere debris under a postulate of sense.
In order to be able to fish m/nor U P . as telltale, interspersed signifiers out of a flowof speech that is merely the intimidation and resistance, the se- duction and distortion, of a consciousness, the doctor must have recorded them in advance. Freud's telephone analogy does not go far enough. Al- though it avoids the traditional recording device of writing, psycho- analysis works like a phonograph that in its developed form couples electroacoustical transducers with memory. Only sound recorders can register spoken typographic errors (an oxymoronic concept in itself).
Benjamin synchronized psychoanalysis and film with the argument that the former "isolated and made analyzable things which had hereto- fore floated along unnoticed in the broad stream of perception," whereas the other "for the entire spectrum of optical, and now also acoustical, perception . . . has brought about a similar deepening of apperception. "" That doesn't quite do justice to the facts. Technologies and sciences of media transposition do not simply extend human capacities; they deter- mine recording thresholds. In the physiology of the senses these thresh- olds cannot be determined too exactly. Freud's treatment of dream and memory images is not the first or only instance of his exclusion of the whole optical realm. The fact that the doctor and hysteric patient are not allowed to look at one another means that the couch (in the best Nietzschean manner) is a pure realm of hearing. Both people are in the same room, so that eye and other forms of contact would be expected. But because mouths and ears have become electroacoustical transducers, the session remains a simulated long-distance call between two psychic apparatuses (in Freud's fine phrase). Psychoanalysis has no vague paral- lels to film; it has much more precisely learned the lesson of technological sound recorders. Its phonography of unconscious sound waves fishes, not in the wide stream of perception, but only among acoustical data.
The catch is restricted to discrete elements. Not only the imaginary sig- nificance, but also the real aspects of discourse are excluded. Freud had
? as little to d o with the physiology of speech (precisely, that studied by his teacher, E. W. Briicke) as he did with escaping to the images in the movies. Female hysterics, those born starlets, could run through, instead of the single "oh," the many real pleasures and pains of speech on the couch-from spastic halting to stuttering, clicking the tongue, gasping, or muteness-but the supposedly filterless receiver filtered them all out. Freud's inimitably forthright justification: he "could not," unlike any boy on the street, "imitate" these real aspects of speech. " The one who once diagnosed his own "motoric aphasia" recorded, in a complete reversal of Berliner'sgramophone,thelettersofsound-everything thatwasalready written, but only that, in the flow of speech. '6
Movies and the gramophone remain the unconscious of the uncon- scious. Psychoanalysis, the science born with them, confronts sequences of images with a primal repression and sequences of sound with their dis- tortion into chains of signifies Only the day when psychoanalysis be- comes psychochemistry-Freud's dream and the nightmare of others-si might wimess the repression of this repression as well.
A transposition of media that transposes images and sounds into letters does not stop there. By the force of its own logic it finally trans- ferred the letters into books. This is the relation between analytic practice and theory. What would have disturbed free-floating attention during the session later occurs after all: Freud reaches for his pen. As Walter Muschg recognized early on, Freud belonged "to the modem movement of Ger- man letters. " "
Writing circa 1900means being without voice and writing with the alphabet. Fundamentally, psychoanalysts must know when to remain si- lent vis-&vis their word-jumble generators. Not only for "persons with hysterical mutism" did writing become a "vicarious" means of expres- sion; s' the motoric aphasic behind the couch did not suffer from agraphia, either. Written case histories made a "talking cure" into-literature. The expression itself shows how this happened. Freud had no such striking expression for his invention; his first patient, Anna 0. (alias Bertha von Pappenheim), gave her "new type of treatment the name 'talking cure' [in English]. "" The writer in Freud had only to put the foreign words on paper and honor them by his definition.
But this relationship between speech and writing, prompter and au- thor, so fundamental between Freud and his hysteric patients, does not make him a Schlegel or Anselmus, or Pappenheim a Dorothea or Serpen- tina. The simple fact that Anna 0. "during this period of her illness re- markably spoke and understood only English,""' separated her from a Mother's Mouth that could whisper even Sanskrit texts in High German.
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The discourse network of 1900determined that Freud would not once put the expression "talking cure" into German. Psychoanalysis is not a translating universalization that makes the speech of many women into the originary language of One Woman. In practice as in theory, in listen- ing as in recording, psychoanalysis remained the feedback of data that circumscribed an individual case. "If" Freud's famous hysteric patient should "by chance" come to read the Fragment of her analysis, she would read nothing that she and only she did not "already know. " But because or in spite of this, an "embarrassment" awaits her:6zthe parts of her speech that have found their way into print are not the expressions of a na'ive lay philosophy of the sort that Schlegel ascribed to women, but of the organs and functions of her sexuality.
The meticulous Freud calls his activity the "written record" and "ac- cordingly not absolutely-phonographically-faithful. " But in this ex- plicit competition it has such a "high degree of dependability" that Wildenbruch would for once be made nervous by literature:' Every me- dium that brings the hidden to the light of day and forces the past to speak contributes, by gathering evidence, to the death of Man. This dis- tinguishes psychoanalytic case-study novels from the classical-romantic epic form. When Goethe put together his heroines from the different indi- vidual features of different women, inviting all feminine readers to iden- tify themselves with the Woman, the models, although they may have seen themselves robbed of eyes, hair, or mouths, hardly had the fear or pleasure of being publicly recognized. The discourse network of 1800 had no need of formal, legal guidelines about authorial discretion, be- cause it voluntarily, or philosophically, saw the individual as genus. Not until the current century did popular literature begin by disclaiming any similarity between fictional heroes and living models. One popular novel- ist, Thomas Mann, was drawn into an exemplary trial in 1905and had to defend Buddenbrooks against the charge of being a roman a clef by stressing the transposition of media as his artistic achievement. w In the same year, another novel "Fragment" began: "I am aware that-in this city, at least-there are many physicians who (revolting though it may seem) choose to read a case history of this kind not as a contribution to the psychopathology of neuroses, but as a roman B clef designed for their private delectation. I can assure readers of this species that every case his- tory that I have occasion to publish in the future will be secured against
their perspicacity by similar guarantees of secrecy, even though this reso- lution is bound to put quite extraordinary restrictions upon my choice of material. " 65
The novelist Freud thus does not rule out the novelistic reading of his case histories. He simply disapproves. It is possible, but distasteful, to de-
? code psychoanalytic decodings of individual cases. Such are the intimida- tion tactics of one who turned the subject index in Mayringer-Merer, excuse me, Meringer-Mayer, into a secret-person index. Such is the pro- tection of data records, which are exhaustive only because he, the discreet doctor, in a move of fine symmetry, forbade his patients to have any dis- cretion. Freud broke off the analysis of "a high official who was bound by his oath of office not to communicate certain things because they were state secrets. "" The shift from bureaucratic ethos to psychophysics, from an oath of office to the exhausting of material, could hardly occur more drastically. Writing circa 1900necessarily conflicted with rules of discre- tion-simply because it was no longer the imagination that dictated. Freud would sooner renounce writing books than subject signifiers to the kind of distortions that once translated recognizable, bourgeois Veronicas into the pure signified of a Serpentina.
If the distortions are slight, they fail in their object of protecting the patient from indiscreet curiosity; while if they go beyond this they require too great a sacrifice, for they destroy the intelligbility of the material, which depends for its coherence precisely upon the small details of real life. And from this latter circumstance fol- lows the paradoxical truth that it is far easier to divulge the patient's most inti- mate secret3 than the most innocent and trivial facts ahout him; for, whereas the former would not throw any light on his identity, the latter, by which he is gener- ally recognized, would make it obvious to everyone. 6-
What distinguishes case histories from Poetry is the fact that the depths of the soul do not betray the identities of the persons described to readers addicted to decoding. That Freud did not advance as far as the phono- graph, which with particulars like the voice or breath would have be- trayed persons' identities to even the most naive media consumers, is the very structure of writing. Only small, factual details remain as indices, which as people's symbolic aspect inscribe them in public networks of discourse. Certainly Freud's novels leave "no name standing which could put a lay reader onto the right track. ""* But because psychoanalysis is concerned with gathering evidence of the letter, names remain essential. Without the play of signifiers, whose differences are as incomprehensible as they are important, unconscious connections would be destroyed.
Under the hesitantly established heading, "The Presentation of Man" in Freud, Muschg writes of the "remarkably anonymous characters that occupy his writings. "6YIt is indeed a strange anonymity that consists of indices and names. Obsessional neurotics appear as the Rat-Man or Wolf-Man,'" hysterics as Anna O. , Frau Emmy v. N. , Dora, Fraulein Elizabeth v. R. For these figures the texts develop neither imaginative im- ages nor novels of Bildung-none of the representations of man in the Spirit of 1800,in other words. Only a mass of spoken material is pre-
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sented, through which unconscious inscriptions run their jagged, telltale course. The rebus is written down as rebus. Because Freud's own texts will be scrutinized by distasteful colleagues, the texts encode each rebus a second time according to the rules of media transposition. Thus wherever a rebus appears to be solved, another one begins (along with yet another book on Freud). Anyone who can decipher the initials of the Wolf-Man in the castrated word (W)Espe,just as the formidable Sherlock Holmes discovered the place name Ballarat in the ordinary word rat,-'has still not fixed upon a referent, to say nothing of a man behind the words. Simmel's objective interpretation allows for solutions quite other than those of the author; Freud permitted and practices "Constructions in Analysis,"-2 which beyond psychoanalytic practice determined the constructions of his writing as well. The surname of the Wolf-Man has only recently been revealed. For seventy years it was anyone's guess as to whether the initials S. P. corresponded to the Wolf-Man's passport or whether they were the discreet fiction of a writer who had encoded a solved rebus a second time.
Small facts like initials or abbreviated names are thus quite literally the contact surface on which two discourses oppose and touch one another: on one side the speech of the patients, on the other side the writing voca- tion of their doctor. It is finally impossible to determine which of the two one might be reading at any given moment, simply because inscriptions on one side trace through to the reverse side. The contact surface-as is only proper in a discourse network that does justice to the material as- pects of media-consists simply of paper. Whether in Freud's sense or not, his paper is and remains the place where the discourse network of 1900comes into contact with people. Either the patients really spoke as if speech were a masquerade for the rebus, or psychoanalysis selected from the flow of the voice only what it could transpose into signifiers and then transpose a second time to foil roman a clef readers. In any case, psycho- analysis occupies the systemic position taken by Poetry in the discourse network of 1800. The position consists in the place of initiation. If voices and dream images are to be grounded in the logic of the signifier, they must first cross the threshold of psychoanalysis; if, in return, any rituals of the sign or psychophysics are to be inscribed on individual bodies, they must first cross the threshold of psychoanalysis. The discourse network of 1900 places all discourse against the background of white noise; the pri- mal soup itself appears in psychoanalysis, but only to be articulated and thus sublimated via writing proper. "
There is nothing further to say about the wider effects of such a strat- egy. The only nontrivial problem is one of method. If Freud's technique consists in transposing optical and acoustical streams of data into words
? and words into the signifier script of his own texts, then his universal sci- ence confronts only one superfluity or impossibility: data that have al- ready assumed written form. Wherever articulation has already occurred, "the dissection and division of something that would otherwise be lost in the primal soup" is unnecessary. Thus Freud granted texts, regardless of who their authors were, a special status. Whether or not the texts were distinguished by literary honors was secondary to a certain testimonial function . -4
The pact between Freud and the people who believed that dreams could be read, despite the objections of all philosophers, would have had no discursive support if the spoken dream stories of patients had not been media-transposed by literary dream texts and confirmed by the ordinary documentary means of pen and paper. The mere written existence of Jensen's Gradiva, a novella about mania and dreams, was sufficient to de- fend Freud against attack. That it is not of particularly enduring value, that its author "refused his co-operation"-' when approached and thus would not personally authorize its transposition into the medium of psy- choanalysis, is insignificant. Objective interpretation can do without au- thorial assent. Freud thus reached the following conclusion on the rela- tionship between writers and analysts: "We probably draw from the same source and work upon the same object, each of us by another method. And the agreement of our results seems to guarantee that we have both worked correctly. Our procedure consists in the conscious ob- servation of abnormal mental processes in other people so as to be able to elicit and announce their laws. The author no doubt proceeds differently. He directs his attention to the unconscious in his own mind, he listens to its possible developments and lends them artistic expression instead of suppressing them by conscious criticism. Thus he experiences from him- self what we learn from others-the laws which the activities of this un- conscious must obey. But he need not state these laws, nor even be clearly aware of them; as a result of the tolerance of his intelligence, they are incorporated within his creations. "'"
The same source, the same object, the same result-writers and psycho- analysts moved into a proximity equal to that which joined the Thinkers and Poets of I 800. Yet the reverse conclusion is equally possible and logi- cal: namely, that writers end up on the side of the patients. If Freud's pa- tients and the hero of the novella share the same dreams, paranoid struc- tures, and hysterias, then these must belong to the writer's unconscious as well. There is one small difference, however: hysteria speaks, but Jensen publishes.
Mania and Dreams can no longer be attributed to an individ- ual case. The material already present in the medium that supports the psychoanalyst has achieved "artistic expression. " Rather than proceeding
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according to the rules of hermeneutics and assuming that fictional heroes naturally dream the dreams of their authors, Freud finds in Gradiva writ- ten dreams "that have never been dreamt at all, that were invented by a writer and attributed to fictional characters in the context of a story. "- Therefore, there is no need to pomon out statistically distributed non- sense to individual cases. Jensen, no different in this from Freud, is sepa- rated by a thin but impermeable piece of paper from its reverse side, from mania and dreams, and is above the suspicion of being their referent. His relation to the primal soup is not one of participation, but simulation. For invented individuals he invents dreams that in spite of this squared fiction "contain in embodied form" all the "laws" of the unconscious. Laws, let us note, and not, say (asone often prefers to read) contents. With its cen- tral metaphor, the burial of Pompeii under lava and ash, Jensen's novella does not symbolize this or that repressed content, but rather provides a "parable" of the metapsychological process of repression itself. "There really is no better analogy. "'R
In distinction from the doctor (Freud once more leaves out the mystery of his self-analysis), the writer does not extrapolate the laws of the un- conscious from others' mouths, which are unable to say why their sense becomes nonsense and their nonsense sense. A strange listening in on his own mental processes gives him not only their repressed contents but be- yond that their signifying logic. Once again, then, the writer seeks out a nom-like authority, which administers the rules of all writing. but be- cause they are rules, it remains unnecessary and impossible to "pro- nounce" the unconscious laws that have been discovered. It is enough that they have been given a material location: paper, on which discursive rules such as repression are "embodied. "
In written material, therefore, the localization that defines psycho- analysis in the discourse network of 1900is left out-because it has al- ready occurred. If the diverse local centers of the brain-physiological localization doctrine are linked together in the typewriter, psychoanaly- sis-m ysteriously true to its neurophysiological beginnings-reverses the founding relationship. Its textual theory replaces that body with a type- writerly corpus.
The text as embodied psychoanalysis does not distinguish the literary or even the classical. It is simply the effect of a medium that governs the analyst himself, First when he reads the flow of the voice as a rebus, and second when he writes. In order to achieve this effect, it is sufficient for a mania, rather than flood Freud's senses with hysterical visuality and the spoken faqade of dreams, to have been written down. If and because a work called Memoirs of My Nervous Illness is present in the form of a
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book, psychoanalysis treats it very differently than it would a mentally ill person on the couch.
Freud's "Psycho-analytic Notes on an Autobiographical Account of a Case of Paranoia" seems at first to be a compromise solution arrived at in an attempt to extend his practice to cases who, in contrast to neurotics, cannot wander around freely and so (if they have not lost language alto- gether) can only send out messages in bottles. Paranoiacs cannot be ana- lyzed; they "cannot be compelled to overcome their internal resistances, and . . . in any case they only say what they choose to say. " Such, how- ever,eversincePilate's6yiypa& yiypa& ("WhatIhavewritten Ihave written"; John 19:22),is the very definition of a text. Which is why "pre- cisely" in the case of a paranoiac "a written report or a printed case his- tory can take the place of personal acquaintance with the patient" (read:
. his spoken story). "
So much for the introduction to and justification for the analytic act.
By the end everything reads much differently. Schreber's book, instead of simply replacing the flow of the hysteric's voice, attains all the honors of theory, in that the Memoirs of My Nervous Illness also contains what is indeed memorable: the embodied laws of the unconscious. As with Jensen, the writer Freud greets as a colleague, albeit one who was at the time a patient in the Sonnenstein asylum in Pima.
Since I neither fear the criticism of others nor shrink from criticizing myself, 1 have no motive for avoiding the mention of a similarity which may possibly dam- age our libido theory in the estimation of many of my readers. Schreber's "rays of God," which are made up of a condensation of the sun's rays, of nerve-fibres, and of spermatazoa, are in reality nothing else than a concrete representation and pro- jection outwards of libidinal cathexes; and they thus lend his delusions a striking conformity with our theory. . . . these and many other details of Schreber's delu- sional structure sound almost like endopsychic perceptions of the processes whose existence I have assumed in these pages as the basis of our explanation of paranoia. I can nevertheless call a friend and fellow-specialist to wimess that I had developed my theory of paranoia before I became acquainted with the con- tents of Schreber's book. It remains for the future to decide whether there is more delusion in my theory than 1should like to admit, or whether there is more truth in Schreber's delusion than other people are as yet prepared to believe. *"
After seventy-five pages of interpretation, Freud proclaims that inter- pretation has hardly been necessary. He finds the basic assumptions of his libido theory in Schreber also. There could be no clearer literary testi- mony from one author to another. Here psychoanalysis runs into legal difficulties quite different from those encountered in writing case histo- ries: in case histories, the analyst must protect the identities of those de- scribed, but here the author must protect his copyright. In Schreber'scase
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"the object of the analysis is not actually a person, but rather a book produced by that person," and so "the problem of professional discretion does not enter in. "" Yet a more serious problem raises its head. In order to present Schreber as a mere witness and not cede him the psvchoana- lytic copyright, Freud has to call another wimess to the stand. A psychia- trist friend will swear to the fact that the patient and his analyst (in the terms customary for fictional disclaimers) arrived independently at the same results.
Psychoanalytic discourse itself must be at stake if its founder moves to head off charges of plagiarism. In fact, Schreber'smania archives as body and text the libido theory that psychoanalysis reached only through the long detours of interpretation. Schreber's relation to the theory is that of all writers. Jensen, according to Freud, could register and write down processes occurring "in his own mind"; Schreber, according to Freud, does this with "endopsychic perceptions. " The Memoirs depicts a nerve- diseased body as the theater for whole theomachies, where divine nerve rays invade and retreat, destroy organs and extract brain fiber, lay down lines of communication and transmit information-a psychic informa- tion system that Freud takes at its word rather than as mania. Freud is not so believing at other points, as, for example, when the paranoiac accuses his psychiatrist, Flechsig, of persecutorial intent; behind this image of his colleague Freud senses only the patient's father. In describing the mind as information system, however, the psychotic text, which describes the sys- tem throughout its four hundred pages, is said to be the unmetaphoric truth.
There are grounds for this methodological distinction. The Oedipus complex is the nucleus of the neuroses, but the mental apparatus is co- extensive with psychoanalysis itself. Only by "assuming the existence of a spatially extended, advantageously constructed apparatus developed in meeting the exigencies of life," can Freud build his science "on a basis similar to that of other natural sciences. " But these bases are not available for experimental verification. One can only infer them with the help of "artificial aids," because "'reality' will always remain 'unknowable. ""' Accordingly, "reality" would be a necessary and impossible limit concept on the edge of the system, were it not for Schreber's endopsychic per- ceptions, which without doubt describe a body, his own, as a spatially extended mental apparatus. The corpus of the psychotic text provides psychoanalysis with its indispensable but undiscoverable basis: a body. A body is the piece of evidence without which psychoanalysis, by con- temporary standards, would have remained empty speculation.
From the first, aphasia studies had made brain localization into a methodological space; psychoanalysis becomes the destination of the
? long route that traverses this space. Schreber's mania guarantees that there is "not more mania contained" in analytic theory than its inventor would "wish. " Processes that allow endopsychic perceptions in an expe- rimental subject, however delirious, cannot not exist from a psycho- physical standpoint. Schreber's body is the verso of the pages Freud filled with writing.
The Doctor of Law Daniel Paul Schreber (1842-I~II)s,on of the widely known inventor of the Schreber garden, which is still cultivated on the edge of German cities, entered the Leipzig University Nerve Clinic of Dr. Paul Emil Flechsig in 1884 as a failed candidate for the Reichstag, was released in 1885, was appointed in 1893 to the second highest judi- cial position in the Kingdom of Saxony, the Presidency of the Senate of the Supreme Court, immediately thereafter entered Flechsig's clinic once more, was transferred several times, was released in 1902, and in 1907 was finally institutionalized until his death. The Memoirs appeared in a private edition in 1903 with the declared intention of allowing "expert examination of my body and observation of my personal fate during my lifetime. " "'
Freud's "Psycho-analytic Notes" thus appeared just at the moment to filloutandcashthisblankcheck. *'In 1911,whoevergavehisbodyover to science would get a response posthaste. Not only is the mental appa- ratus, as described by the psychotic and psychoanalytic corpus, a single, highly complex information system; the two corpora in tandem consti- tute this system a second time. Tidings of the impossible reality reach the symbolic, via media transposition. Freud receives what Schreber sends; Schreber sends what Freud receives. All that remains unsaid is why the whole discourse network worked so promptly and precisely around one individual body. Freud was much too concerned with the testimonial value of the received messages to investigate the logic of the channels. What Schreber writes, what writers write-everything became for Freud an anticipation of psychoanalysis. And he is not alone in this. Schreber too grants poets like Wagner occasional anticipations of his neuro- theology. " In the competition for corporeal knowledge, then, the ques- tion about which channels of knowledge constitute the body is left out. The discourse network of 1900 withholds its proper name.
The Memoirs constitutes an ''exhaustion''a6of Schreber's body while he was still alive. The transposition of a body into a corpus was just as necessary-namely, as necessary for survival-as was the fictional com- poser Lindner's transposition of letter to note values. After Schreber has published his book (against the wishes of his family and the medical es- tablishment), the natural sciences of the mind have only to open it-and
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? Schreber's person is "offer[ed]. . . as an object of scientific observation for the judgment of experts. " Otherwise, "at some future time" the ex- perts could only confirm "such peculiarities of my nervous system . . . by dissection of my body,'' for "1 am informed that it is extremely difficult to make such observations on the living body. ''87
Schreber as writer or Schreber as anatomical preparation-these are the only alternatives in the discourse network of 1900. Like all writers of the epoch, he plays the role of the "victim of his own writing,"nnin order to be able, in place of his autopsy, to prepare refuse, a bodily substitute, a text. Only thus can his case remain "soul murder"*9and not descend to the postmortem examination of those peculiarities that make people with nervous diseases so attractive to their psychiatrists. The patient dissects his own organs and notes their modifications while he is still alive, with a positivism that honors psychophysics and comes close to correcting fac- tually Kraepelin's Psychiatry (on the subject of hallucinations). Schreber thus practiced, as if to realize Nietzsche's assertion "for there is no soul," preventative soul murder.
But "soul murder"-in Schreber's divine "primary-" or "nerve-lan- guage" an autonym for the neurophysiological relationship between him and God-is also a chapter title in Ellen Key's The Century of the Child. Schreber could once more confront his blind exegetes and their multiple associations on the phrase, with the extent of his reading of contempo- rary works, which aside from Kraepelin, Du Prel, and Haeckel, also in- cluded her. What is called divine nerve-language in divine nerve-language and not accidentally contains many "expressions which would never have occurred to" Schreber, namely expressions "of a scientific, and par- ticularlymedicalnature,"n issimplythecodeoftheepoch. In1903itdid not take private religious illuminations to reduce, in the first sentence of one's book, the soul to nervous tissue and to the language of nervous tissue, or in the final sentences to see one's own mental illness "in the sense of a nervous illness," although not in its ordinary sense. "
But if the soul has only neurophysiological reality, university nerve clinics are more likely than Ellen Key's schools to be responsible for soul murder. A book that does not bear the title Memoirs of M y Nervous III- ness was unable to use the words nervous illness without the epithet so- called, and set forth from the beginning the doctrine that there are "no independent illnesses of the mind without those of the body. "9LThe book is Paul Flechsig's inaugural lecture as the second professor of psychiatry in the history of the University of Leipzig. The first was named Johann Heinroth and was faithful to Hoffbauer and Rei1 in teaching the "mis- taken doctrine" of mental cures. A "chasm" thus "gaped" between him and his successor Flechsig, one "no less deep and wide than the chasm
? between medieval medicine" and modem medicine. " In "the age of Flechsig and Wernicke," (Benn's term)," souls became nerve information systems, and cures became experiments. The "'localization of nervous diseases"' entered "a new epoch" (as Freud says)9'with Flechsig, who posed for his festschrift photograph in front of the picture of a massive, cut-open brain. Only the individual case created difficulties, relative ones, in the Leipzig University Nerve Clinic; only curing such a case created absolute difficulties. On the one hand, the brain contains "the key to every natural conception of mental activity" and a fortiori to those of mental di~turbancesO. ~n~the other, "the protected position of the brain" means that the substratum of the psychoses, namely, chemical and physi- cal nerve damage, "can be detected in the living only through more or less composite inferences. " Thus the psychiatrist Flechsig was impelled onto a royal diagnostic road that was simultaneously a therapeutic dead end: "the emphasis on postmortem e~amination. "~-
No sooner said than done. The corpse of Holderlin, an insane or, in other words, not bureaucratically employed teacher, was among the first to enter the new order of things via the dissection table. %The corpse of Schreber, a judicial bureaucrat who had gone over into the new order, suffered the same, now foreseeable, fate (withoutthe feared or hoped-for modifications in nervous tissue being found). "
And yet, what was said had already been done. After Flechsig decreed postmortem examination to be the psychiatric royal road, Schreber's dis- creet, anonymous reference to having "been informed" about the diffi- culties of in vivo diagnosis of insanity is superfluous. In Schreber's case, the situation of the text leaves no doubt: the imaginative copyright to the patient's theology, developed from the notion of the epistemological ad- vantages of being a corpse, belongs to Paul Flechsig. '"
The above picture of the nature of God and the continued existence of the human soul after death differs markedly in some respects from the Christian views on these matters. I t seems to me that a comparison between the two can only favour the former. God was not omniscient and omnipresent in the sense that He contzn- uously saw inside every individual living person, perceived every feeling of his nerves, that is to say at all times "tried his heart and reins. " But there was no need for this because after death the nerves of human beings with all the impressions they had received during life lay bare before God's eye, so that an unfailingly just judgment could be reached as to whether they were worthy of being received into the realms of heaven. '"'
The precision of this image of God is equaled only by Flechsig's festschrift photograph. Everything runs according to the plan set out in Flechsig's inaugural lecture, Bruin and Soul. That God can discipline his still-living victims with mental cures or psychological introspection is an age-old fallacy. The soul consists of nervous tissue, which makes in vivo inves-
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tigation impossible, but the nerves are perfect data recorders and for that reason will yield all their secrets to the clinical eye at the moment of dis- section. In other words: according to this theology, "within the Order of the World, God did not really understand the living human being and had no need to understand him, because, according to the Order of the World, He dealt only with corpses," until he initiated his world-order- defying relationship to Schreber. '">The theology simply equates God with the professor. Psychophysics banned all introspection, and theology complied; Flechsig restricted all diagnoses to corpses, and pious Schreber, performing the written dissection of his nerves, could only accommodate him. With that Schreber fabricated, to the joy of Freud, once a neu- rologist, the impossible piece ofevidence for psychoanalysis: endopsychic perceptions of brain functions.
Channels of information are indeed intimately linked. Schreber's case, rather than being an independent and indubitable piece of evidence for a libido theory, demonstrates the nexus between psychophysics and psy- choanalysis. As reader and writer, Freud walked blindly into the dis- course network to which he himself belonged. The Project for a Scientific Psychology and the Memoirs of M y Nervous IIIness are two continua- tions of a single discourse. No wonder they ran into the plagiarism prob- lem of being reverse sides of one another.
Just where Freud could have resolved the imaginary rivalry, his keen intellect failed before the discourse of the Other. Although he cannot not have noticed that the language of Schreber's nerves and delirium is the language of the experimental neurologist Flechsig,"" his interpretation systematically replaces the name Flechsig with that of the inventor of the Schreber Garden. All the patient's sentences concerning his doctor and "God Flechsig"'" are treated only as the displacement of a homosexual libido directed at the father. With this, Freud founded the boundless Schreber literature that anchors all the sufferings of Schreber fils in the wild childrearing methods of Daniel Gottlieb Moritz Schreber. The head bandages or orthopedic bed invented by Schreber senior and mentioned in passing in the Memoirs are then declared the "true background of Schreber'sconception of God as One Who knows man only as a corpse. " I"' Flechsig's message of the death of man, more hidden than Nietzsche's, has not reached the exegetes. Again and again the attempt is made to explain
the second industrial revolution by the first: Schreher as information sys- tem is related to orthopedic mechanics, the writing machine in Kafka's "Penal Colony" to frieze heads and planers. But nerve-language remains nerve-language, and typewriters with their own specially constructed means of making script visible are Underwood models. '" The system of 1900could spare itself the effort to spare muscular energy because it un-
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dertook to create substitutions for the central nervous system itself. Be- yond mechanical head bandages, Schreber's paranoia followed the lead of an insane neurophysiologist. His book begins (running the risk of libel suits) with an open letter to Flechsig, asking the distinguished privy coun- selor to put aside his anger for once, as the undersigned has done, and answer the rigorous scientific query whether he possibly
like so many doctors, could not completely resist the temptation of using a patient in your care us an object for scientific experiments apart from the real purpose of cure, when by chance matters of the highest scientific interest arose. One might even raise the question whether perhaps all the talk of voices about somebody having committed soul murder can be explained by the souls (rays) deeming it impermissible that a person's nervous system should be influenced by another's to the extent of imprisoning his will power, such as occurs during hypnosis. "'-
The professor in Leipzig never answered this open letter (which appeared in Leipzig). Whereas Schreber could embroil his later psychiatrists in expert-testimony disputes, which his legal understanding helped him to win, the soul murderer maintained a silence that even today puts exegetes on the wrong track. All the interest in Schreber's so-called father prob- lems substitutes consanguinity for enmity, causality for war. But the clas- sical pedagogic power of Schreber senior can only be equated with the extremely efficient disposition of power in 1900. "T'~he nerve-language at the basis of the new disposition states that "an educative influence di- rected outwards" has been played out. '"'' Because God or psychiatrists, according to the world order, can only know corpses, a temptation to conduct psychophysical experiments arises. "The miracles directed against my bead and the nerves of my head""" inscribe themselves into the nervous system without a pedagogic detour and substitute an experi- mental arrangement for the impossible cure for paranoia. The practical consequence is that anything identifiable as "influences on my nervous systememanatingfromyour[Flechsig's]nervoussystem" breaksdownin the discourse of the doctor or experimenter into "mere 'hallucinations"' of his patient. "'
If psychophysics can explain its effects out of existence, then experi- mental subjects have no choice but open warfare and thus publication. Schreber writes to Flechsig in Flechsig's language in order to demonstrate in the latter's own territory that Schreber's purported hallucinations are facts effectuated by the discourse of the Other. The Memoirs stand and fight in the war of two discourse networks. They constitute a small dis- course network with the single purpose of demonstrating the dark reality of another, hostile one.
The mentioned writing-down-system is extraordinarily difficult to explain to other people even vaguely. . . .
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Books or other notes are kept in which for years have been written-down all my thoughts, all my phrases, all my necessaries, all the articles in my possession or around me, all personswith whom I come into contact, etc. I cannot say with certainty who does the writing down. As I cannot imagine God's omnipotence lacks all intelligence, I presume that the writing down is done by creatures given human shape on distant celestial bodies . . . but lacking all intelligence; their hands are led automatically, as it were, by passing rays for the purpose of making them write down, so that later rays can again look at what has been written.
To illuminate the purpose of this whole system I must enlarge further. "'
Enlarging somewhat further, it first of all should be explained that rays are nerve-language information channels that maintain a psychotechni- cal, material link between Schreber and Flechsig (or his incarnation as God), very much counter to the conditions of the world order. Rather than manifesting Himself only to corpses, God occupies SchreberS ner- vous system by innervating all local language centers with the exception of the external speech apparatus; that is, like a good aphasia researcher, he stimulates only sensory and motoric word images. "'No wonder, then, that the nerve-language appears to be hallucinated, no wonder that it can also bridge cosmic distances. According to Flechsig, who wrote an influ- ential monograph on nerve tracts, "the greatest part of the human cere- brum'' consists "in nothing more than millions of well-isolated circuits, measuring thousands of kilometers. "'" All the data on Schreber wanders through such interwoven cables to its destination on distant planets. The information comes in, is registered, and can be reread by other rays, which are preparing to move in the opposite direction. The neurologist- god of 1900 is a single discourse network. Whether he (like the gods of Rousseau or the Apocalypse) still uses the book as a storage bank no longer matters. All books are discourse networks, but not all discourse networks are books. If the recording occurs mechanically and without any Geist, the probability of its being a purely technical procedure is greater. "It is presumably a phenomenon like telephoning. " There is, for example, the appearance of a writing angel in the trademark of a gramophone company.
It is no accident that the neurotheological discourse network stores particulars, and stores them exhaustively. Not one of Schreber's thoughts, sentences, or personal possessions is left out. The paranoid machine op-
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erates like an integrated system of all the data-storage devices that revolu- tionized recording circa 1900. And because its strategy was aimed not at statistical series but at exhausting the arbitrary case of Schreber, it also exemplifies the methodological project at the basis of psychoanalysis.
In 1882Stanley Hall began, in what was still a very statistical proce- dure, to gather material for a study entitled Tl7eContentsof Children's Minds. Soon thereafter the investigation also included individual cases, as when the vocabulary and neologistic creations of two thirteen-year-old girls were inventoried. 'IhConsequently, Erdmann could define even a po- etic vocabulary as a denumerable group of words.
