The Analytic Observer
Newsletter of the Chicago Psychoanalytic Society
VOLUME 4, NUMBER 2
JUNE 1, 1996
CONTENTS:
The Beat Goes On, by Bob Fajardo, M. D.
Frankly Speaking, by Ron Moline, M.D.
Highlights of the Executive Council Meeting of
the A.Psa.A. - May 2, 1996, by Judith Davis, M.D.
From Your President, by Harvey, Strauss, M.D.
Meet Your Colleague, by Richard Herron, M.D.
Reconsidering Mark Gehrie's "Empathy in Broader
Perspective," by Jeff Stern, Ph.D
The Institute/Society Public Relations Committee has stayed fully
involved while also accomplishing a significant change in membership.
Dave Edelstein, Bob Gordon, Art Nielsen, Sheila Nielsen (Institute Board
of Trustees), and Brenda Solomon have each shifted into other
activities, after having provided us with important assistance in
building our foundation. The committee is presently composed of Bob
Fajardo (Chair), Marty Fine, Paula Fuqua, Alyce Gorsky (Institute
Development Office), Mark Smaller, and Annette Yonke (Research
Candidate).
We have appreciated the Institute and the Society's budgeted
commitment to a three year continuation of our efforts, and we have
attempted with the assistance of our PR firm, Janet Diederichs and
Assoc., Inc., to develop realizable goals for each year. This year we
had two major goals: (1) to evolve a media spokesperson program, and (2)
to develop an annual participation in the City of Chicago Humanities
Council, Fall Program.
To work on the first goal, the PR firm conducted a Saturday morning
media training program that was attended by approximately 15 Society
members. Since that time we have had 3 newspaper telephone interviews.
Two of these interviews were major components of articles written by
prominent column writers in the Chicago Tribune and the Chicago
Sun-Times. The articles each dealt with aspects of genius and violence.
The Institute/Society members interviewed were Barry Childress, Bob
Fajardo, and Bob Galatzer-Levy. Additionally, three Society members
(Barry Childress, Bob Galatzer-Levy, and Mark Smaller) participated in a
half-hour long radio interview on "Chicago Up Close," with Lee Ann
Trotter, 99.5 FM. The topic of discussion, "Parental Responsibility,"
followed upon the unfortunate death of the 7-year-old girl presumed to
be the pilot in a plane crash. Meanwhile, the PR firm is searching out
other media opportunities for Society members. A number of members have
actively volunteered participation in programs. The opportunities seem
to present themselves with either eruptive immediacy, wherein member
accessibility is crucial, or through a slowly-evolving consideration of
program format. Just such a consideration is underway to present a
program on violence.
The Chicago Humanities Council involves a large array of
presentations to a large Chicago audience over a number of days. This
year's theme will be "Birth and Death." We have made participation in
this acclaimed Chicago activity our second major PR effort. Mark Smaller
and the PR firm have discussed a number of possible topics that our
committee could help to field. Presently the Humanities Council
Director, Eileen Mackevich, is considering an Institute/ Society
presentation utilizing the film "Ordinary People." This presentation is
still in the early talking phase.
Our committee additionally facilitated two other activities. Arnold
Tobin was interviewed on the topic of "Crimes of Passion and American
Justice," to be broadcast on the Cable Arts and Entertainment channel
(#57) sometimes during the late summer. Also, on June 20th, Charles
Jaffe will make a presentation on "Short Term Psychotherapy" at the
Great Lakes Naval Hospital on the North Shore.
Our committee greatly appreciates everyone's assistance.
_________________________________________________________
WE JOIN THE PERSONALLY BEREAVED IN MOURNING THE LOSS AND
HONORING THE MEMORY OF TWO RESPECTED COLLEAGUES, WHO CONTRIBUTED SO
MUCH TO SO MANY
CHARLES KLIGERMAN, M.D.
HELMUT BAUM, M.D.
_________________________________________________________
Frankly Speaking . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . A Column by Ron Moline, M.D.
Requiem for an Era
It is not my intention to become a mavin of melancholia. I strongly
suspect, however, that those of you of a certain age and beyond share my
proclivity these days for a kind of somber reflectiveness, in reaction
to the many losses we have experienced within the psychoanalytic
community. Personally, I would not call what I am experiencing
depression. (Richard Nixon: "I am not a crook.") Yes, I feel the losses,
mourn them, and feel quite keenly my own mortality; but I am also
sharply aware of the processes of growth, and positive change. Our field
demonstrates that whole unbroken circle, in my opinion; along with our
losses and our struggles there exists creativity and health. I want to
address both polarities in these remarks today.
First, I want to give my own brief eulogy for Dr. Helmut Baum, who
passed away around the same time that Dr. Kligerman died. Helmut had
been my second and last analyst. He was, I be-lieve, among the first of
his generation to grasp the meaning of Heinz Kohut's new ideas, and to
incorporate them - effortlessly, from the point of view of an analysand
- into his analytic work. He gave me much of what I needed, in the way
of an analytic experience, and my life would have been both different
and more im-poverished without his efforts. I shall always be grateful.
Dr. Kligerman was a presence my entire professional life, until his
death; this contributed to my tendency to view him as epitomizing the
psychoanalysis I "grew up" with. I do not intend to eulogize him, here;
that has been and will be done better and more meaningfully by others,
elsewhere. Neither do I wish to deal simplistically with his life's work
nor casually with his memory; but I am wanting to talk about Dr.
Kligerman in the ways that he symbolized certain things for me, and the
ways in which those conceptualizations changed for me, over the years.
Dr. Kligerman and Dr. Herman Serota were the first two psychoanalysts
to whom I was exposed, as a first year psychiatric resident at the
University of Chi-cago in 1963. They alternated case conferences on a
weekly basis--doing live interviews of both inpatients and outpatients.
I was powerfully impressed by two aspects of those interviews, as they
were conducted both by Dr. Kligerman and Dr. Serota. One was the nature
of the relationship they established with the patients. I was struck by
how comfortable they were, and how comfortable they consequently were
able to make the patient. The interviews seemed to flow, effortlessly;
there was very little sense of "taking a history" or making an
assessment. They were trying to listen to the patient.
The other aspect, while equally impressive, was less congenial, for
this tenderfoot. This was the formulation which these experienced
analysts subsequently made of the data they had elicited in the
interview. Many of my fellow residents were awestruck by the ability
these men exhibited in formulating the unconscious conflicts, the
interweaving of oedipal and pre-oedipal elements, the defensive
structures--and after all that, delineating the implications for
treatment approach and outcome. I was not awestruck in quite the same
way, however. While I too was impressed at the erudition, I was less
convinced that these formulations were true. Unlike the atmosphere,
perhaps, of their formative years in psychoanalysis, these analysts -
particularly Dr. Kligerman - did not prohibit skepticism or debate. We
were deferential, no question - students still were, in those final
years of American respect for authority - but skeptical questions were
raised. The responses, however, were partly satisfying and partly not.
One answer was essentially a shrug: "After a while you can see these
things." More satisfyingly: "If the data later reveals other dynamics or
trends, one's formulation changes accordingly." Still: these
formulations were highly complex and seemingly tightly interwoven. Was
it possible, I wondered, to change much, without the whole edifice
becoming unraveled? I had not yet heard of Popper, but the thought also
occurred to me: can this formulation be disproven? Is there any way to
refute it?
The approach to psychoanalytic knowledge so skillfully demonstrated
by Drs. Serota and Kligerman was in fact the norm for that era. Analysts
observed; they gently but insightfully probed; and then, from the
distance of a medical expert, made their dynamic diagnosis and treatment
plan. There was data to be elicited - real facts, not of course
primarily of life events or behavior, but of psychological reality - and
then woven together in a satisfying understanding.
Fast forward. Over a decade later (Maria Kramer and Helmut had their
hands full trying to shape me into a sufficiently coherent self to
warrant analytic training), I am in classes at the Institute. One is a
case conference run by Dr. Kligerman. He still has the same enthusiasm,
the same almost competitive intensity to bring to a case conference--
competitive not with us, the students, but with the challenge posed by
the patient by the data, seemingly inchoate and unconnected, but subject
to the mastery of understanding, with enough effort. One got the
impression that he couldn't wait to get going--that there was nothing on
earth he'd rather be doing than trying to make sense of the case about
to be presented.
By then, the understandings had changed. Kohut had shaken the
foundations, and the best and the brightest had either imposed upon
themselves the task of reinterpreting psychoanalytic understanding in
the terms of self psychology, or of incorporating his insights into what
they felt was already solidly established psychoanalytic knowledge. Dr.
Kligerman seemed to me to be in the latter group. What had not changed,
however, was the aim, the point of it all. There were us experts, and
then there was the patient. The analyst's contribution was still either
good technique, or countertransference. There were new and illuminating
understandings of the patient: breaks in empathy, which in years past
hadn't even been part of the analytic discussion, assumed new
importance, and contributed to our formulation of what lay at the base
of the patient's disturbance. The amount of time spent on discussing the
therapist's experience in the analytic situation, however - much less on
the dance which both participants were creating - was negligible.
Times had changed, but the bottom line remained that analysts knew
what they knew. There was a confidence, even a kind of serenity, in the
sure knowledge that years of analytic experience led to a wisdom and
unerring capacity to see to the heart of psychological matters that we
trainees could only dream of attaining. I was struck dumb to be told by
a senior analyst some time late in my training, "You know, Ron, you
really need more analysis." It took me some years to realize that my
deepest reaction had been, "Compared to whom? You?"
About a week before he died, Dr. Kligerman made the first referral to
me he had ever made. He told me on the phone that he was seeing this
woman in psychotherapy, and that he was referring her to me for couple
therapy with her husband. He told me that he had had her on Prozac for
some time, which seemed to be helping. I thanked him, and thought about
the remarkable changes that have taken place in and out of our field in
the past ten to fifteen years. Today, we are more likely to know that we
don't know everything, to be more humble about our work and more open to
all the therapeutic resources we can muster, not least
psychopharmacology. We treat more patients who in previous eras would
have been judged out of hand as unsuitable for psychoanalytic therapy,
much less psychoanalysis. They are more demanding of us - of
authenticity, of our attentiveness, of help - than used to be
true of typical analysands. These are not people by and large who, in
reaction to an unempathic comment by the analyst respond, as most of us
did a decade or more ago on various couches, with: "Of course-- I needed
that (...I guess)."
Another contribution has been our personal life experiences over the
course of years. Analyzed though we were, knowledgeable as we thought
ourselves to be, our marriages still went through rocky times and often
broke apart on those rocks; our kids acted out, got depressed, had tough
sledding. Many of our patients didn't get better. More analysis - for
ourselves - sometimes helped, but sometimes didn't. If we knew so much,
how come these things kept happening? Of course, no one ever promised us
a rose garden; but more often than was admitted in the Institute
corridors, analysts were still in pain, still struggling, at times
barely successfully. (I got my comeuppance fairly early on; after
terminating my analysis, during which time I had gotten married, Barbara
in essence said: "This is it? This is as good as it gets? No,
no, no, no!" We were shortly in couple therapy, and much the better off
for it by a couple of years later.)
Finally - and more positively - we learned more. We did gain wisdom,
but even more than the ability to formlulate people's problems more
persuasively, the wisdom to understand the analytic process as a joint
endeavor--as an exploration of ourselves in relation to the other as
much as an exploration of the other's psychology. We came to understand
the inevitability of enactments, of the importance but relativity of the
narratives we constructed with our patients. We shared more of
ourselves--not so much about our own lives, but about our experience in
the room, with the patient. We became secure enough to accept our
insecurity, even to expect it as inevitable.
So I start with the losses, the deaths. People who were important to
us, and who will be sorely missed. But I end with what I can only
experience as hopefulness and optimism. We are surely on the right
track. It shows in my work with patients, and in yours. Certainly most
of us will be doing much less four-times-a-week psychoanalysis, much
less at the fees to which we had grown accustomed. But we have learned
things that make virtually all of our encounters with patients more
authentic, more vital, and more truly therapeutic. The requiem ends in a
major key.
_______________________________________________________________
Highlights
of the Executive Council Meeting of the American Psychoanalytic
Association - May 2, 1996 . . . . . . . . . Recorded by
Judith Davis, M.D.
The American has been studying the feasibility of proceeding with a
CD-ROM project, in which all issues of five major psychoanalytic
journals (JAPA, IJP, IJR, PSC and PQ) will be contained on a CD-ROM,
with a search function for locating desired references. The cost will be
$595 for individuals (less $100 if ordered early), and $955 for
libraries (less $200 if ordered early). It will be formatted for both
IBM and Macintosh. At our Business Meeting on April 23, I was instructed
(by unanimous vote) to vote against this project in its present form.
Our membership felt that it would not be useful to have only five
journals rather than a more complete collection. We were also concerned
as to whether adequate market research had been done, as the American
will be committing 20% of its assets to this project. I presented our
opinion in Council, but all other societies were in favor of this
project, and it was passed with only one (Chicago's) negative vote. Some
Council members pointed out that certain journals declined to
participate because they needed the revenue they receive by selling back
issues. Other Council members described having elicited great interest
among candidates and Europeans (two groups who do not already have a
full library of English language journals).
The proposals for restructuring the American, which had been
presented by the Committee on By-laws and the Task Force on
Board-Council Structure and Function have been put on hold for the
moment. A new Select ad hoc Committee , chaired by Jon Meyer of
Milwaukee, has presented a very different proposal, suggesting that the
Executive Council can indeed function effectively as the Board of
Directors of the Amer-ican, if Councilors are clearly informed about
their responsibilities and are provided with the information they need
in order to discharge their fiduciary responsibilities. It also
recommends changing the name from "Executive Council" to "Board of
Directors" or "Council of Trustees," to clarify this body's role.
Regarding Council-Board of Professional Standards relations, the report
describes the very different functions that these bodies perform,
acknowledges the strife that occurs over certain issues that concern
both bodies, and recommends measures to facilitate a full airing of
views on these issues for Council's consideration. Discussion of this
proposal will be conducted by e-mail among members of Council and all
interested members of the American.
The Committee on Membership recommended that progression from
affiliate (candidate) membership in the American to active membership
should be made automatic upon graduation, and that a simple application
form should suffice for graduates who have not previously joined. The
Council approved both recommendations.
The Committee on Homosexuality reported that although five years have
passed since the American publicized its non-discriminatory position on
homosexuality, this position has not become widely known; and there are
potential candidates who do not yet know that sexual orientation will
not be a consideration in their application. It was suggested that the
confusion may be due, in part, to the fact that not all analysts agree
with the new position. In fact, a group of analysts (led by Dr. Charles
Socarides) has formed the National Association for Research and
Treatment of Homosexuality (NARTH). The American's newsletter, The
American Psychoanalyst , has been publishing NARTH's announcements of
meetings because of concern about abridgement of free speech. After
extensive discussion, the Council recommended that TAP continue to
publish NARTH's announcements, but also place the American's position
statement on the same page.
The Budget and Finance Committee recommended that research be funded
directly as a budget item, rather than through voluntary contributions
on the dues statement; and that the officers of the American receive
small stipends as partial reimbursement for the many out-of-pocket
expenses they incur as they perform their duties. The Council approved
both recommendations.
The American's Committee on Government Relations and Insurance (CGRI)
and the Coalition for Patients' Rights (CPR) are now working
cooperatively together. They are actively lobbying in regard to two
bills:for the Kassebaum-Kennedy "portability" bill (which mandates
continuity of insurance coverage for employees who change jobs), and
against the Bennett bill (which, if passed in its present form, would
require that all patient-therapist contacts be reported to a national
data bank!).
The Peer Review's Subcommittee on Notes provided two clarifications
to the practice guideline on charts which had been previously adopted.
This guideline states that no notes are necessary beyond the initial
evaluation and recommendation for psychoanalysis, as note-taking can
"degrade" the treatment by intruding on the free-floating attention of
the analyst. The clarifications state that 1) it is inimical to the
psychoanalytic process to chart (for insurance reimbursement purposes)
how many minutes late a patient may be for appointments, as this fails
to acknowledge that the treatment is an on-going process; and 2) it also
degrades the treatment to perform "negative charting" (i.e. to state
that the patient is not suicidal, etc.). The Council was in agreement
with these clarifications.
Jorge Schneider was elected Councilor-at-Large by the Council to
complete the term vacated by Bob Pyles when he was elected
President-Elect. The Council voted for the following slate of nominees
for office in the American, to be voted on by the membership in the
fall: For Secretary: Jon Meyer of Milwaukee and Paul Mosher of Albany;
for Councilor-at-Large (two to be elected): Peggy Hutson of Miami,
Donald Meyers of New York, Warren Procci of Pasadena, and Jorge. If
Jorge is elected from this slate, and if he prefers to serve this term
rather than the remainder of Bob Pyles' term, the Council will elect
another Councilor-at-Large to fill that slot.
It is becoming increasingly important for psychoanalysts to have
e-mail. Discussions of the important issues that face us will
increasingly be conducted through this medium because of its inherent
utility for this purpose. In addition, much money can be saved by the
American as expensive mailings are replaced by e-mail communication.
My term as your Councilor ended at the conclusion of this meeting of
the American. During the four years that I have served on the Council, I
have seen it change from a passive, ill-informed group to an
increasingly vigorous and demonstrably competent body. I have found it
to be a very interesting and gratifying experience, both in terms of the
work and of the new friends I have made. I would like to extend my best
wishes to your new Councilor and Alternate, Drs. Mark Levey and Ron
Krasner, and hope that they will find this experience as rewarding as I
have.
_______________________________________________________________
From Your President . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Harvey Straus, M.D.
The first of my two years as President of the Society is drawing to a
close. It's my impression that the two-year term is proving to be a good
idea--giving the President the opportunity to oversee larger Society
projects, providing follow- through, sustained efforts, and evaluation.
Two major activities of the Society this past year have been: 1) to ask
the membership to make a major commitment to the Public Relations
Committee, both through a substantial dues increase and by participation
in the activities it generates; and 2) to create a basis for the Society
to offer much more to candidates and recent graduates that could be
helpful to them both clinically and in their own progress towards
gaining a solid identity as psychoanalysts.
There are several other projects at the planning stage that I will
discuss in the fall. I hope that you all feel free to call me with any
comments or suggestions about Society activities. I look forward to our
next year together as professional colleagues. Have an enjoyable summer.
_______________________________________________________________
Meet Your Colleague . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . Richard Herron, M.D.
Question: What psychoanalyst and Society member has her own
museum?
Answer: May Weber.
May Weber, at the age of seven, made a significant decision: having
been given fifty cents for ice cream by her father, she elected to spend
thirtyfive of the fifty cents on the purchase of an intriguing piece of
Indian pottery, while on a family trip to the Southwest. May, a graduate
of the Chicago Institute for Psychoanalysis in 1977 and a member of the
Society since 1982, could hardly have imagined that this was the
inception of a life-long interest in collecting art objects, which has
grown in scope and extent over the past 20 years. As an ardent
collector, May describes her collection as "living arts"--that is to
say, forms of art which have a functional use in day to day life. These
objects may range from altar pieces to mixing bowls.
Many Society members are collectors, of course, many with deserved
reputations. May's collecting, however, is distinguished by her interest
in sharing her collection with others. She has been unique in her effort
to combine her collection with a passion for teaching, and the belief
that mutual tolerance among humankind would be enhanced by increasing
everyone's knowledge of world cultures through their art.
To promote her philosophy, she opened the May Weber Museum of
Cultural Arts, and directed the museum for six years. It was a showcase
of changing exhibitions of objects made for use in daily life, but
clearly recognizable as well as works of art. May placed eight easy
chairs throughout her museum to better provide a comfortable setting for
her patrons, or for those wishing to do more intensive research.
Exhibits ranged from "The Ritual Art of Papua, New Guinea," to
"Containers of Spirit and Substance."
May has a special passion for educating youth, and through numerous
outreach programs to children through the schools, hoped to promote the
message of the oneness of all humankind. She regards this value as a
heritage from her family of origin; she has a vivid sense that her
parents treated all people with equal respect and regard, both in
attitudes and behavior. The museum, through the exhibits, provided the
children with opportunities to discuss and learn how the particular
artifacts were used, how they were discovered, and the story of how they
came to be in Chicago. In the best tradition of an art museum, her
enterprise combined history, anthropology, geography, and economics,
together with the aesthetic sensibility.
Alas, after approximately six years, the museum could no longer
sustain itself financially, and in 1994 closed its doors to the public.
May is in the process of negotiating with one of the Chicago area
universities to house and promote her collection in a manner which would
enhance college undergraduate as well as children's education in the
Chicago area.
Who came first: May Weber the psychoanalyst, or May Weber the
collector? Both obviously have their roots in childhood, but May adds
that it was her study of history which led her eventually to
psychoanalytic training. Serious collecting became an outgrowth of her
interests in both history and psychoanalysis. Interestingly, May has
earned masters degrees in both music and history; medicine was only a
peripheral interest in her undergraduate days.
Within that group of unique and talented individuals which comprise
the Chicago Psychoanalytic Society, May Weber stands out as an
exceptional member. She has combined seemingly disparate interests into
a coherent whole, and through passion and will, created something of
rare substance, which she has generously shared with the community.
_______________________________________________________________
In his January address to the Society ("Empathy in Broader
Perspective: A Technical Approach to the Consequences of the Negative
Selfobject in Early Character Formation"), Mark Gehrie described a class
of patients profoundly traumatized in early childhood. In Gehrie's view
the early negative experience of these patients forms a preverbal
psychic structure or "template" which shapes all of their later
affective experience. Gehrie implies - at least as I read him - that
such patients are at the outset of treatment beyond empathy,
transference, and interpretation: empathy (at least as usually
understood) because it inevitably fails to reach them at the template's
diacritical level of affect; transference, because it is the
template-driven nearly biological compulsion to repeat that shapes these
patients' responses, not a relationship to a narcissistically or
libidinally significant other; and interpretation, because the
experience which the template organizes is not verbally encoded. The
patient learns of this lost experience only when the analyst (re?)constructs
it. Only what Gehrie thinks of as the "dynamite" of the therapist's
appropriately intense (often negative) affect is able to engage these
patients at their emotional core and make egress from their archaic
state possible. Thereafter Gehrie believes they may be analyzed along
conventional lines. His point is that interactions or enactments which
elicit the therapist's "level-appropriate emotionality" may be
considered empathy of a newly-defined sort.
Dr. Goldberg responded by arguing that Dr. Gehrie's views of empathy,
transference, enactment, and interpretation are unnecessarily
restrictive. He believes that to empathize with patients who experienced
constant and traumatic ruptures in the attunement of their early
idealized selfobjects is precisely to understand that such patients will
inevitably experience their analysts as constantly and traumatically
failing to be empathically attuned to them. For Goldberg these ruptures
and the negativity and rage that follow before reconnection can be
fleetingly restored are not about a template-driven compulsion to
repeat, but are transference par excellence: the result of the patient's
shattered idealization of the analyst. For Goldberg the analyst's
empathy consists not in understanding the patient so well that such
ruptures can be avoided, but rather in understanding that such sequences
are inevitable. Goldberg sees no reason to regard certain affectively
charged interactions as privileged material for reaching the patient at
the template's core level of affect because he believes enactments are
ubiquitous in treatment and will unavoidably engage the therapist at the
appropriate affective level. He dismisses Gehrie's concern that the
analyst may iatrogenically pacify negative patients and thereby fail
ever to reach them at the level of their core emotional reality because
he believes that patients who need to see the analyst in a particular
way will find him so and indeed make him so. Finally, Dr. Goldberg
denies that such patients - even in their most archaic states - are
beyond interpretation. He believes that even preverbal experience is
ultimately verbally inscribed and psychologized when language
acquisition reorganizes the self. Gehrie's undestanding of empathy in a
broader perspective strikes Goldberg finally as leading toward the
slippery slope down which therapists may justify any sort of
non-interpretive intervention in the name of the need to reach the
patient.
I would like to think that Dr. Gehrie is right about the value of the
therapist's negative affects in certain cases, because his position - as
I understand it - seems to justify much that I found myself thinking and
doing in such cases. Nevertheless, I believe that my most representative
patient has taught me to think that Dr. Goldberg's is the better
understanding. It is with a view to adding her voice to this rich
exchange that I write.
J., a 32-year-old professional woman, was almost unendurably
negative. I found that my efforts to be empathic had little or no effect
in mitigating her pervasive angry gloom, or in resolving derailments in
the of-fice. It generally seemed that nothing I said or did ever pleased
her or seemed in any way to lessen her suffering. Like Dr. Gehrie, I
found myself embroiled with her in angry enact ments when I could bear
no more of her depreciating rage. At times her tirades would threaten
the peace of neighboring offices and I would declare sessions to be
over. When she insisted that I was stupid and sadistic (often for
refusing to see her outside the office) I suggested she seek treatment
from someone whose ideas about therapy more closely accorded with her
own. Despite my inability to manage the treatment in a way that didn't
seem to me impossible she seemed to progress remarkably outside the
office. As a result I wondered if my countertransference hadn't somehow
unerringly guided me to the level of affect she required to experience
me as caring and real, as Dr. Gehrie argued was the case with some of
his patients. But J. wouldn't have agreed. She would have insisted
rather that enduring my angry distress was what she had to put up with
in order to have a relationship with me -- just as had been the case
growing up with her parents. She would have cheered Dr. Goldberg for
saying that when I enacted in an angry and retaliatory way it was to
help me calm down and reorganize myself. It wasn't for her. J. would
have said that when she felt hopeful it was in response to the moments I
saw through her bitter complaints and cruel depreciation of me and found
a way to speak to the wounded and fragile soul she was in her heart.
These were the pearls with which she strung the treatment together.
Such a moment occurred during a memorable sequence of sessions in
which her gloom, hopelessness, and stinging criticism of me became
almost too much for me to bear. I somehow thought to ask her if she had
ever been read to as a child. I said it seemed to me that when she was
distressed it was terribly hard for her to calm down. I wondered how
she'd been able as a little girl to get to sleep. She said she'd never
been able to sleep when things had been stormy. Her mother had never
read to her. I asked if she'd like it if I would. It was instantly clear
that the spell we'd been under had been broken. We read fairy tales
together for several months. I thought we had come through. Then my
summer vacation interrupted us and shattered the fragile glass of our
connection. The relentless intensity of her hostility and self loathing
and my total inability to reconnect with her made me wonder again along
Dr. Gehrie's lines if somehow empathy and transference hadn't been
entirely beside the point. Perhaps I'd been deluding myself and what was
happening was driven by some such mechanism as the template rather than
any recognizable transference relation to me. My efforts to be empathic
seemed only to enrage her.
J. insisted that I was utterly incapable of understanding her pain.
After weeks of getting nowhere either by attempting to soothe her or by
expressing my frustration with her I decided she was right. I agreed
that my own experience in no way prepared me to understand hers. I
decided to give up trying to be empathic entirely and to think of her as
if she were from another planet. I'd simply try to learn the language of
her affects and struggle to speak it. I would accept her hopelessness
and gloom, her rages and pervasive paranoia, as if I were the curious
but emotionless Spock from Star Trek. Her experience wasn't for me to
question or understand, merely to witness and record. I was surprised to
find this position liberating. I stopped expecting we would get beyond
sequences of traumatic derailment followed by slow and painful
reconnection, and tense and gloomy ceasefires. I expected these
sequences as I might the phases of the moon. What was striking during
the derailments was her absolute certainty that I wanted only to be rid
of her. I began to regard this conviction as the heart of the sequence
and then (perhaps because it was becoming less and less true of my
feelings) the heart of the transference. Her mother had left her father
and J. when J. was 11. She'd explained to J. that she wasn't going to
take J. with her because J. was so "impossible." J. begged her to stay
and threatened to kill herself if she wouldn't. Nonetheless her mother
left.
Our sequence was similar. When I failed her J. would become enraged
and "impossible." Eventually I'd suggest she see someone else. At this
moment of truth she would become desperate to stay with me. For a very
long time she insisted that our interactions had no relation at all to
her history. But as the benevolent circle of calm in the office more and
more came to replace the viciously traumatic one we had struggled in,
she began to find linking our experience in the office to her life
interesting and convincing. Her gloom became less pervasive, her
depreciation of me less constant; she began to suffer my questions and
occasion conjectures with curiosity rather than vexation. She began
sensitively to observe herself. It seemed that in spite of myself she
had taught me to be empathic with her. My emotions changed from angry
and bitter to hopeful calm and curiosity. Increasingly I was able to use
my feelings not with a view toward touching her directly at a core
affective level but rather as a window to her own unspoken feelings and
those of her earliest selfobjects. Enactment had been the means between
us to ends (perhaps as Dr. Goldberg would have had it) first of
misunderstanding, then to negotiation, and thence painstakingly toward
understandings she experienced as empathic and attuned. Where actions
had been, interpretation came to be.
I have come to believe that even in the early phases of treatment, J.
was never beyond empathy, transference, or interpretation. When I
allowed her to teach me the language of her affects, I learned to read
her empathically. After a very long time I was able to follow her down
the yellow brick road of the transference. Increasingly she began to
tolerate what I believe were structuralizing interpretations. It was
precisely the transformation of my strong negative affects, not their
expression, that made possible this gradual process of understanding .
What made her feel hopeful was my ability to withstand her
destructiveness without retaliating. My experience with J. seems then to
justify Dr. Goldberg's conviction that we do best even with very
negative patients to rely on self psychology's classic paradigm of
em-pathy, understanding, and interpretation.
For Dr. Gehrie the enacted expression of the analyst's emotion was
itself an expression of empathy in a broader perspective because it
reached the patient at the split-off level of core emotionality and
opened a pathway to ongoing analytic work. In my experience with J. it
was not the expression of emotion that was important per se - neither
the positive enactment of the fairy tales nor the expressions of anger -
but rather my understanding of my strong affective responses as an
expression of something felt but unrecognized in J. herself (or in her
early selfobjects), and my ability eventually to allow this
understanding, like Freud's hysterical symptoms, to join in the
conversation.
For me empathy in a broader perspective came to be about privileging
the authority of J.'s knowledge and affects rather than my own--and this
is the issue which I think is at the core of the Gehrie-Goldberg
discussion. If I had insisted that she accept my assurance that her
impossible behavior was based on a mechanism - an influencing machine -
that she could only know about through my instruction, she would have
left, as she had left many previous therapists with similar ideas of
privileged knowledge. I feel certain that insisting, even if only
initially, that J. idealize my authority to know her better than she
knew herself would have foreclosed the transference revelation of her
enormously fragile grandiose self. The effect of such a foreclosure I
believe might have been the foreclosure of the very mirror transference
whose truth I believe has begun to set her free.
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