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The Drama of the Gifted Child (The Search for the True Self)

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about his own childhood, which he described as one long<br />

story <strong>of</strong> humiliation. He related, <strong>for</strong> example, that if he wet<br />

his trousers he had to wear a red dress all day so that everybody<br />

would know what he had done and he would have to<br />

be ashamed <strong>of</strong> himself. Ingmar Bergman was <strong>the</strong> younger<br />

son <strong>of</strong> a Protestant pastor. In this television interview he<br />

described a scene that <strong>of</strong>ten occurred during his childhood.<br />

His older bro<strong>the</strong>r has just been beaten by <strong>the</strong> fa<strong>the</strong>r. Now<br />

<strong>the</strong>ir mo<strong>the</strong>r is dabbing his bro<strong>the</strong>r's bleeding back with<br />

cotton wool. He himself sits watching. Bergman described<br />

this scene without apparent agitation, almost coldly. One<br />

can see him as a child, quietly sitting and watching. He<br />

surely did not run away, nor close his eyes, nor cry. One<br />

has <strong>the</strong> impression that this scene did take place in reality,<br />

but at <strong>the</strong> same time is a covering memory <strong>for</strong> what he<br />

himself went through. It is unlikely that only his bro<strong>the</strong>r<br />

was beaten by <strong>the</strong>ir fa<strong>the</strong>r.<br />

It sometimes happens that patients in analysis are convinced<br />

that only <strong>the</strong>ir siblings suffered humiliation. Only<br />

after years <strong>of</strong> analysis can <strong>the</strong>y remember, with feelings<br />

<strong>of</strong> rage and helplessness, <strong>of</strong> anger and indignation, how<br />

humiliated and deserted <strong>the</strong>y felt when <strong>the</strong>y were beaten<br />

by <strong>the</strong>ir beloved fa<strong>the</strong>r.<br />

Ingmar Bergman, however, had o<strong>the</strong>r possibilities, apart<br />

from projection and denial, <strong>for</strong> dealing with his sufferinghe<br />

could make films. It is conceivable that we, as <strong>the</strong><br />

movie audience, have to endure those feelings that he, <strong>the</strong><br />

son <strong>of</strong> such a fa<strong>the</strong>r, could not experience overtly but<br />

never<strong>the</strong>less carried within himself. We sit be<strong>for</strong>e <strong>the</strong><br />

screen confronted, <strong>the</strong> way that small boy once was, with all<br />

<strong>the</strong> cruelty "our bro<strong>the</strong>r" has to endure, and hardly feel<br />

able or willing to take in all this brutality with au<strong>the</strong>ntic<br />

feelings; we ward <strong>the</strong>m <strong>of</strong>f. When Bergman speaks regret-<br />

72

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