The Interpretation of Dreams Sigmund Freud (1900)

hours as a student, wanting for nothing. "So will you at the breasts of Wisdom every day more pleasure find"), in the most complete contrast to
the desires which plague me (German: plagen) while I dream. And finally, there emerges the recollection of another dear teacher, whose name
once more sounds like something edible (Fleischl- Fleisch = meat- like Knodl = dumplings), and of a pathetic scene in which the scales of
epidermis play a part (mother- hostess), and mental derangement (the novel), and a remedy from the Latin pharmacopeia (Kuche = kitchen)
which numbs the sensation of hunger, namely, cocaine.
In this manner I could follow the intricate trains of thought still farther, and could fully elucidate that part of the dream which is lacking in the
analysis; but I must refrain, because the personal sacrifice which this would involve is too great. I shall take up only one of the threads, which will
serve to lead us directly to one of the dream-thoughts that lie at the bottom of the medley. The stranger with the long face and pointed beard, who
wants to prevent me from putting on the overcoat, has the features of a tradesman of Spalato, of whom my wife bought a great deal of Turkish
cloth. His name was Popovic, a suspicious name, which even gave the humorist Stettenheim a pretext for a suggestive remark: "He told me his
name, and blushingly shook my hand."[21] For the rest, I find the same misuse of names as above in the case of Pelagie, Knodl, Brucke, Fleischl.
No one will deny that such playing with names is a childish trick; if I indulge in it the practice amounts to an act of retribution, for my own name
has often enough been the subject of such feeble attempts at wit. Goethe once remarked how sensitive a man is in respect to his name, which he
feels that he fills even as he fills his skin; Herder having written the following lines on his name:
Der du von Gottern abstammst, von Gothen oder vom Kote.
So seid ihr Gotterbilder auch zu Staub. -
[Thou who art born of the gods, of the Goths, or of the mud. Thus are thy godlike images even dust.] -
I realize that this digression on the misuse of names was intended merely to justify this complaint. But here let us stop.... The purchase at Spalato
reminds me of another purchase at Cattaro, where I was too cautious, and missed the opportunity of making an excellent bargain. (Missing an
opportunity at the breast of the wet- nurse; see above.) One of the dream-thoughts occasioned by the sensation of hunger really amounts to this:
We should let nothing escape; we should take what we can get, even if we do a little wrong; we should never let an opportunity go by; life is so
short, and death inevitable. Because this is meant even sexually, and because desire is unwilling to check itself before the thought of doing wrong,
this philosophy of carpe diem has reason to fear the censorship, and must conceal itself behind a dream. And so all sorts of counter-thoughts find
expression, with recollections of the time when spiritual nourishment alone was sufficient for the dreamer, with hindrances of every kind and
even threats of disgusting sexual punishments. -
A second dream requires a longer preliminary statement:
II.
I had driven to the Western Station in order to start on a holiday trip to the Aussee, but I went on to the platform in time for the Ischl train, which
leaves earlier. There I saw Count Thun, who was again going to see the Emperor at Ischl. In spite of the rain he arrived in an open carriage, came
straight through the entrance- gate for the local trains, and with a curt gesture and not a word of explanation he waved back the gatekeeper, who
did not know him and wanted to take his ticket. After he had left in the Ischl train, I was asked to leave the platform and return to the waiting-
room; but after some difficulty I obtained permission to remain. I passed the time noting how many people bribed the officials to secure a
compartment; I fully intended to make a complaint- that is, to demand the same privilege. Meanwhile I sang something to myself, which I
afterwards recognized as the aria from The Marriage of Figaro: -
If my lord Count would tread a measure, tread a measure, Let him but say his pleasure,
And I will play the tune. -
(Possibly another person would not have recognized the tune.) The whole evening I was in a high-spirited, pugnacious mood; I chaffed the waiter
and the cab-driver, I hope without hurting their feelings; and now all kinds of bold and revolutionary thoughts came into my mind, such as would
fit themselves to the words of Figaro, and to memories of Beaumarchais' comedy, of which I had seen a performance at the Comedie Francaise.
The speech about the great men who have taken the trouble to be born; the seigneurial right which Count Almaviva wishes to exercise with regard
to Susanne; the jokes which our malicious Opposition journalists make on the name of Count Thun (German, thun = do), calling him Graf
Nichtsthun, Count-Do-Nothing. I really do not envy him; he now has a difficult audience with the Emperor before him, and it is I who am the real
Count-Do-Nothing, for I am going off for a holiday. I make all sorts of amusing plans for the vacation. Now a gentleman arrives whom I know as
a Government representative at the medical examinations, and who has won the flattering nickname of "the Governmental bed-fellow" (literally,
by-sleeper) by his activities in this capacity. By insisting on his official status he secured half a first-class compartment, and I heard one guard say
to another: "Where are we going to put the gentleman with the first-class half-compartment?" A pretty sort of favouritism! I am paying for a
whole first-class compartment. I did actually get a whole compartment to myself, but not in a through carriage, so there was no lavatory at my
disposal during the night. My complaints to the guard were fruitless; I revenged myself by suggesting that at least a hole be made in the floor of