1. Volney Gay
Freud and Dreams
Vanderbilt University
Dreams and the Dream Journal
1 The phenomenology of dreams in folk psychologies. 1
2 Three modern responses to dreams.
3 Freud as morphologist: knowing one dream is knowing all dreams.
4 Freud’s problem: dreams reflect cognitive failures.
5 The Dream Journal
6 Sample dreams.
1 The phenomenology of dreams in folk psychologies
People typically experience dreams as:
• Given, not produced intentionally.
• Products of an altered state of consciousness.
• Meaningful.
• Believable.
• From another realm of experience.
• “Interior" yet also able to penetrate the usual barriers of time and space.
• Wishful ("Whenever I want you all I have to do is dream, dream, dream").
• Story-like. Similar to novels and movies, dreams have conflicts, plot, and tension.
Like most folk psychologies, Jewish and Christian scriptures speak of dreams as occult messages
from “On High.” Either dreams come directly from God or they foretell the future. In Genesis,
dreams instruct mortals about God’s plans for them (see the story of Jacob, Gen. 31:12.) Dreams
permit the clever dream interpreter to foretell the future. (See the lengthy dreams in the Joseph
stories, Gen. 37-45). In I Kings 3:5-12, Solomon dreams and in his dream sees God. God offers
to grant him any wish and Solomon asks God (Adonai) for wisdom. The book of Daniel depends
entirely upon the claim that dreams foretell the future, at least of great kings.
1
Or we can see dreams as the produce of ‘bricolage’: “And in our own time the 'bricoleur' is still some-
one who works with his hands and uses devious means compared to those of a craftsman. The characteris-
tic feature of mythical thought is that it expresses itself by means of a heterogeneous repertoire which,
even if extensive, is nevertheless limited. It has to use this repertoire, however, whatever the task in hand
because it has nothing else at its disposal. Mythical thought is therefore a kind of intellectual 'bricolage' -
which explains the relation which can be perceived between the two. Like 'bricolage' on the technical
plane, mythical reflection can reach brilliant unforeseen results on the intellectual plane.” Claude Lévi-
Strauss (1962). The Savage Mind. Chicago: IL: The University of Chicago Press, 1966, pp.16-17.

2. Volney Gay Dreams 2
The New Testament continues these themes in Matthew, 1:20: “But while he thought on these
things, behold, the angel of the Lord appeared unto him in a dream, saying, Joseph, thou son of
David, fear not to take unto thee Mary thy wife: for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy
Ghost.” (KJV) See also Matt 2:13, “And when they were departed, behold, the angel of the
Lord appeareth to Joseph in a dream, saying, Arise, and take the young child and his mother, and
flee into Egypt, and be thou there until I bring thee word: for Herod will seek the young child to
destroy him.”
2 Three modern responses to dreams
The typical ancient notion of dreams is that they portend something mysterious. They are signs
from superior forces, persons, or the gods who use transcendental means--the a.s.c. of the dream--
as modes of communication. In contrast, three modern responses are: (1) Dreams mean nothing:
they are the computer running down, a bit of undigested beef, random neurons firing, or bio-
mechanical events that only seem meaningful [cf. Foulkes.] (2) Dreams are messages from our
"deeper mind." To understand their meanings is to grasp something true about our "inner nature."
[Jung, Boss.] (3) Some dreams are attempts, using thought processes restricted by sleep, to solve
important problems. These problems are typically emotional and deal with negative feelings about
one’s future. [Freud, Boss, Gay]
3 Freud as morphologist: knowing one dream is knowing all dreams
If we can show that the objects of our inquiry are of a fixed shape, then studying the morphology
of a single specimen gives us sufficient grounds to make claims about all members of that spe-
cies. Trained in the most rigorous schools of Europe, Freud relied upon a similar argument when
he transposed the methods of anatomical study to the study of psychopathology. [Ref. SE:
1884f.] Thus, in The Interpretation of Dreams (1900a), Freud describes “the first dream which I
submitted to a detailed interpretation” (p. 196, n.) as “Analysis of a Specimen Dream” (pp. 106-
121). With sufficient rigor, one can extend the analysis of this specimen to all dreams because,
Freud assumed, the biological-psychological mechanisms that produce dreaming must be the
same in all persons.2
Freud extended the morphology of dreaming, to the morphology of para-
praxes, neurotic symptoms, character pathology, and cultural artifacts like religious rituals and
religious beliefs. However, these extensions are metaphorical; in other words, they are herme-
neutical exercises in applied theory.3
2
This dream of Irma’s Injection has generated numerous commentaries and re-interpretations. A notable
one is Erik Erikson’s in (1963). Childhood and Society, 2d Ed. New York: Norton.
3
See a meta-analysis by William Domhoff (2001): “Discoveries in three distinct areas of dream research
make it possible to suggest the outlines of a new neurocognitive theory of dreaming. The first relevant
findings come from assessments of patients with brain injuries, which show that lesions in different areas
have differential effects on dreaming and thereby imply the contours of the neural network necessary for
dreaming. The second set of results comes from work with children ages 3-15 in the sleep laboratory,
which reveals that only 20-30% of REM period awakenings lead to dream reports up to age 9 and that the
dreams of children under age 5 are bland and static in content. The third set of findings comes from a

3. Volney Gay Dreams 3
To raise clinical (interpretive) methods to the level of science, we have to define what constitutes
sufficient rigor in the hermeneutic disciplines. Confronting the murkiness of hermeneutic disci-
plines, like psychoanalysis, Thomas Scheff articulates a solution by way of his notion of mor-
phological inquiry.4
Scheff draws upon Goethe’s Essay on the Metamorphosis of Plants (1790)
to develop a comparative morphology for hermeneutists.5
Using the example of botany as a
strong model, Scheff argues that single case analysis of a particular specimen can produce valid
and reliable findings that we can extend to all other instances of a species. If we can delineate
the boundaries of our subject matter and designate our objects exactly, then this kind of project is
reasonable.6
Concerning the pitfalls of representing accurately a subject's experience, Scheff argues for the
exact recording or capture of the subject's speech. From these data, we can use qualitative meth-
ods as a kind of morphology: the micro-analysis of single specimens. Scheff respects the sub-
tlety of individuals and texts (thus answering post-modernist, like Derrida, and feminists who
have helped reveal the unconscious bias in racist-imperialist ideologies of "scientism"). While
granting that the post-modernists have shown that to understand texts we must understand con-
text, Scheff argues against their conclusion, that the meaning of all texts is undecidable. He ar-
gues for the corollary: given sufficient analysis of text and contexts, we can approach an "objec-
tive determination of meaning" (p. 23, emphasis his). He cites jokes (as did Freud): we can add,
numerous analytic encounters in which both patient and analyst 'get the point' of an obscure
dream or parapraxes. The quality of such encounters and hermeneutic moments is notoriously
variable: some gifted literary critics, for example, can write persuasively about a text, but their
students, who may use the same words and same ‘theory,’ do not.
A brilliant psychotherapist may intuit precisely her patients’ life scripts, but she cannot teach her
students how to intuit their patients’ life scripts with equal skill. As Scheff notes, psychoanalytic
studies and other qualitative methods are often richer than quantitative studies that avoid herme-
neutic engagement, but the former are “filtered through the observers’ fallible memory, sensitivi-
ties, and biases” (p. 51). These well-known problems have restricted our ability to generalize
from one set of qualitative studies to another. For example, Scheff reports that he and his col-
leagues examined meta-analytic reviews of self-esteem measures that evaluated more than
10,000 (!) studies and found no rigorous correlation across these numerous efforts. (p. 25)
To address this problem, Scheff, like Freud, returns to the metaphor of the microscope: "Stage 1,
the researcher would examine individual specimen cases (such as verbatim texts) microscopi-
rigorous system of content analysis, which demonstrates the repetitive nature of much dream content and
that dream content in general is continuous with waking conceptions and emotional preoccupations.
Based on these findings, dreaming is best understood as a developmental cognitive achievement that
depends upon the maturation and maintenance of a specific network of forebrain structures. The output of
this neural network for dreaming is guided by a "continuity principle" linked to current personal concerns
on the one hand and a "repetition principle" rooted in past emotional preoccupations on the other.”
4
Scheff, Thomas J. (1997). Emotions, the Social Bond, and Human Reality: Part/Whole Analysis. New
York: Cambridge.
5
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749-1832)
6
Gay, Volney P. (2001). Joy and the Objects of Psychoanalysis. Albany: SUNY Press.

4. Volney Gay Dreams 4
cally" (p. 20). From here, one searches for a morphological data about a particular specimen. To
maintain scientific transparency, one must make the raw data, the transcript for example, and
one's methods explicit and available to others for review and critique. As Scheff notes, when
brilliant literary critics dissect a text, like a novel by Jane Austen, they typically do not make
their models clear and replicable. In contrast to this standard mode of humanistic research, the
rules of social science discourse require one to display all of one’s reasoning. This demand
makes possible a consensual and objective determination of the meanings of the transcript, for
example. Scheff proposes three steps: exploration, morphology, and verification.
Exploration is the microscopic investigation of a particular, individual instance; morphology is
the exacting study of both this individual and other members of the same type; verification is a
multi-stage process of submitting one’s generalizations to quantitative methods.7
To bridge the
gap that separates single-case, qualitative methods from multiple-case, quantitative methods,
Scheff proposes a general model of such inquiry: a kind of ladder or chain of being which has ten
rungs. These extend from atoms, to molecules, to bodies, to minds.
When Freud abandoned anatomy
While Freud began with this wish in mind, he abandoned it before 1900. His decision to abandon
direct, anatomical descriptions becomes clear in “A project for a scientific psychology” of 1895.8
In this unpublished tour de force, Freud sets out a series of brilliant hypotheses about how differ-
ent hypothetical groups of nerve cells give rise to psychological phenomena. In the “Project”
and in the progeny to which it gave rise, Freud attempts to marry neurological discourse to de-
scriptions of psychological functioning. By the time he published his book on dreams (1900a),
Freud ceased to use graphical illustrations that had any relationship whatsoever to anatomy. On
the contrary, the famous illustrations of “regression in dreams” (1900a, pp. 537, 538, 541), for
example, merely illustrate the concepts Freud announces in the text. Each is a “general schematic
picture of the psychical apparatus” (p. 537). As illustrations of concepts, they are no longer ren-
ditions of natural objects; we cannot study them to gain new information about brain tissues, for
example.
Thus, speaking of “neurones” or nerve cells, Freud talks about the Ψ-system, which he later will
call the ego: “A most promising light would be thrown upon the conditions governing the excita-
tion of neurones if it could be confirmed that in the Ψ-systems memory and the quality that char-
acterises consciousness are mutually exclusive” (1900a, p. 540, italics in original). Many smart
people have spent hundreds of hours teasing out precisely what Freud meant.
7
See rise of 16th
century science: Galileo and measurements: “two new sciences.” For a model web page
and resource, see: http://es.rice.edu/ES/humsoc/Galileo/
8
See Mark Solms and Michael Saling (1986). On Psychoanalysis and Neuroscience: Freud's Attitude to
the Localizationist Tradition. Int. J. Psycho-Anal., 67:397-416. They agree with Borck that On Aphasia is
the more important text. See Cornelius Borck, “Visualizing nerve cells and psychical mechanisms: the
rhetoric of Freud’s illustrations.” In: (Eds.) Giselher Guttmann, Inge Scholz-Strasser (eds.): Freud and
the Neurosciences. From Brain Research to the Unconscious.Wien: Verlag der Österreichischen Akade-
mie der Wissenschaften. 1998, p. 57–86, p. 60. Reprinted: Freud and the Neurosciences, From Brain Re-
search to the Unconscious. Edited by Giselher Guttmann and Inge Scholz-Strasser. Seattle: U. of Wash-
ington Press: January 1999. See Borck, p. 71, n. 15.

5. Volney Gay Dreams 5
The diagram below is from The Ego and the Id (1923b). It illustrates Freud’s conception of how
the “id,” that part of the brain-mind hypothetical structure, is linked to repressed mental con-
tents.9
Because he holds that the “repressed is cut off sharply from the ego by the resistance of repres-
sion” (p. 24), it can communicate with the ego only through the id. Hence, the diagram repre-
sents this concept by the graphic slice between the EGO and the Repressed. There is, of course,
Freud notes, no such slice in neural tissues in which repression and other psychological events
occur. (Like the equator, these are imaginary lines.) Freud returns to his earlier studies of acous-
tic anatomy when he sticks a “cap of hearing” (labeled “acoust.”) on top of the EGO.
When he changed his mind about these theoretical matters, Freud changed these diagrams. He
recast these schemata in 1925 and again in his essays on ego psychology.10
In these latter texts
the terms “ego,” “id,” and “superego” name psychological functions that Freud ascribes to hypo-
thetical mental structures. These diagrams have no direct relationship to the brain or any other
nerve tissue. Thus, depending upon his sense of the importance of the “id” concept, Freud draws
it to different scale; larger in 1923, smaller in 1932 (Borck, p. 85).
4 Freud’s problem: dreams reflect cognitive failures
Drawings of concepts are not maps; we cannot examine them and deduce from them anything
true about nature. An accurate map of Manhattan tells us that Central Park is “above” Wall Street
9
Standard Edition, 19, p. 24. The “Pcpt.-Cs.” refers to the perceptual systems that entail consciousness;
the vertical dotted lines illustrate Freud’s claim that the ego “rests” upon the id as a germinal disk rests
upon the ovum.
10
See Freud (1925a), “Notes upon a mystic-writing pad”; (1920g) Beyond the Pleasure Principle, Stan-
dard Edition, 18, 7; (1921c) Group Psychology and the Analysis of the Ego, Standard Edition, 18, 69;
(1923b) The Ego and the Id, Standard Edition, 19, 3.

6. Volney Gay Dreams 6
because the map shows us how the two areas pertain to one another. In Freud’s illustration of
the ego and the id, we learn nothing about the brain (or the mind) because the drawing does not
portray a thing, but a concept.
Freud was aware of this difference. It amounted to a sea change—he had begun as a natural sci-
entist, now he became an advocate of metaphorical reasoning. The leap from neurology to meta-
phor happens openly in The Interpretation of Dreams. There, Freud brings us back to the world
of microscopes and science.
Everything that can be an object of our internal perception is virtual, like the im-
age produced in a telescope by the passage of light rays. But we are justified in
assuming the existence of the systems (which are not in any way psychical enti-
ties themselves and can never be accessible to our psychical perception) like the
lenses of the telescope, which cast the image. SE 5:611.11
Freud recognized that his new science, psychoanalysis, was not like his old science, neurology.
The latter focused upon real things that one could investigate objectively and in increasingly
deep ways, namely tissues and nerve cells. Because each research scientist could see these new
objects, made visible after excruciating work and care, each could draw or photograph them and
make those renditions available for public scrutiny. As images of natural objects, these drawings
and photographs could be studied and new truths deduced from them.
Freud’s new science focused upon objects that were not visible. Indeed, he says that the objects
that psychoanalysts examine, such as dreams, wishes, fantasies, and thoughts are “virtual ob-
jects” in the way that images of a planet produced by a telescope are “virtual.” By examining
these virtual images, we can learn much about the planet, and we can learn much, but not every-
thing, about the lenses that bring the planet’s image into focus. The ego and its various functions
are like these lenses: we learn about them indirectly, by examining their effects.
This is a brilliant metaphor. Is it also illuminating? Do we agree that the thoughts and fantasies
are like the virtual images in telescopes and microscopes? A great deal hinges on our answer. If
we agree with Freud that thoughts and fantasies are like virtual images, then the metaphor be-
comes a strong model of the psyche. Yet, we note that this metaphor-model of psychic function-
ing begs the question: Are virtual images real things visible to any observer? Experimenters can
fit a telescope or a microscope with multiple viewing devices so that three people can observe
the same virtual image at the same time. The problem with thoughts and fantasies is that we
don’t yet know what they are. They are like virtual images, true, but they are also like photo-
graphs or mirages. Thoughts are also unlike either of these. We cannot observe either our own
thoughts or those of another person the way we can observe a virtual image.
11
See Freud, (1895a) "A project for a scientific psychology." In: The Origins of Psycho-Analysis, trans.
Eric Mosbacher and James Strachey. New York: Basic Books, pp. 347-445. Revised and reprinted in
Standard Edition, 1, 175. pp. 365-367. For other comments on these passages see Lippit, Akira Mizuta
(1994). “Virtual annihilation: Optics, VR, and the discourse of subjectivity.” Criticism, Fall 1994, 36:4, p.
595.

7. Volney Gay Dreams 7
Why does Freud offer this comparison? One reason is that the camera and other imaging
mechanisms seemed to offer new models of human perception.12
Freud retains this model of vir-
tual images, I think, because it gives psychoanalysis an observational basis. Thus, Freud intro-
duced medical students to psychoanalysis in 1915-1916:
In medical training you are accustomed to see things. You see an anatomical
preparation, the precipitate of a chemical reaction, the shortening of a muscle as a
result of the stimulation of its nerves. Later on, patients are demonstrated before
your senses. . . . Thus a medical teacher plays the main part of a leader and in-
terpreter who accompanies you through a museum, while you gain a direct con-
tact with the objects exhibited and feel yourselves convinced of the existence of
the new facts through your own perception. In psycho-analysis, alas, everything
is different. (1915-16, SE 15:16-17.)
Medical students learn about diseases by seeing their effects in patients or in tissues or in cells.
Seeing things is the preferred route of true knowledge. According to the Greeks, it offers us the
most exact way to distinguish between similar objects. Plato says that vision is “the most sun-
like of all the instruments of sense” (Republic, 508b).
Seeing things is preferable; but, alas, the objects of psychoanalysis are internal and virtual. They
cannot be demonstrated to a skeptical audience that demands the usual form of proof. By locat-
ing the objects of his science within the mind, he renders them invisible; we can know them only
indirectly. In making this claim, Freud knows that he teeters on the edge of Romanticism. This
echoes German Romantics, like the poet Novalis who said, “Every procedure of our mind that is
made conscious is, in the strictest sense, a newly-discovered world.”13
While this matches
Freud’s claim to have discovered new realms, to have become the conquistador of the uncon-
scious, he wished to remain grounded upon the science of his day, the world of neurology and
other observational disciplines.
Before his audience rises to a skeptical rejection, Freud asks them to attend to their dreams, study
their parapraxes, and observe their own mixed feelings and other neurotic actions. All these to-
gether, will suggest—if not demonstrate—the reality of the objects of psychoanalytic inquiry.14
Yet, such investigations cannot answer the basic question: Are ideas, affects, and fantasies parts
of the natural (that is, neurological) world? On the contrary, to study parapraxes and dreams is to
12
Even then, problems emerged: “By the early nineteenth century, the camera lost its efficacy because
the subject had, in essence, become the camera: it had metamorphosed into a representation of the simu-
lated world. During the nineteenth century a series of optical devices—John Paris's ‘Thaumatrope,’
David Brewster's ‘Kaleidoscope,’ Joseph Antoine Ferdinand Plateau's ‘Phenakistiscope,’ Eadweard [sic]
Muybridge's ‘Zoopraxiscope,’ to name only a few—gradually moved the screen of representation from
the world to the psyche.” Lippit (1994), np.
13
In 1797. From, Novalis (Friedrich von Hardenberg [1772-1801]), 1797, Blütenstaub. Trans. By Char-
les Rosen (1971). The Classical Style: Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven. New York: Norton. Among other
aphorisms by Novalis: “The person is a sun, his senses are its planets.” “The person is himself the largest
secret, even - the solution of this endless task in the world’s story.” "We are near awakening when we
dream that we dream."
14
As I argue in Joy and the Objects of Psychoanalysis (2001).

8. Volney Gay Dreams 8
study complex behaviors that may or may not correlate with self-reports and patterns. This is the
stuff of clinical encounters, but it is not a study of natural objects.
By affirming the centrality of vision, Freud follows the dictates of the Greek authors who made
vision preeminent. It was the conduit of reason, a source of true knowledge. However, the
Greeks also distinguished between merely seeing the world of change and really seeing, that is
grasping intellectually, the underlying, invisible, world of permanence and truth. To love the ac-
tivity of seeing is a form of doxophilia; as Plato says, it is to love opinions and sensations: “Do
we not remember that we said that those loved and regarded tones and beautiful colours and the
like, but they could not endure the notion of the reality of the beautiful itself?”15
We prefer vi-
sion, Aristotle says in the famous opening paragraph of Metaphysics, because “of all the senses
sight best helps us to know things, and reveals many distinctions.”
However, even vision is limited; like all human senses, it can falter. Even when accurate, vision
helps us discern only transitory events. It cannot tell us about the unseen, permanent, reality that
underlies transition and change. Aristotle says, “Of the qualities there described the knowledge
of everything must necessarily belong to him who in the highest degree possesses knowledge of
the universal, because he knows in a sense all the particulars which it comprises. These things,
viz. the most universal, are perhaps the hardest for man to grasp, because they are furthest re-
moved from the senses.”16
A chief source of this metaphysics was the stunning success of Greek
mathematics, especially the use of the deductive method to discover the existence of π and other
transcendental entities.
5 The Dream Journal
Basic steps: dream journals and self-interpretation:
1. What is the manifest dream: tell the dream plot as best you can upon
awakening.
2. What are your feelings in the dream, do they change as the dream moves on?
3. What conflicts, drama, or struggles occur in the dream?
4. How are these settled or resolved? [Hint: why do we wake up from some
dreams?]
5. Of what real life conflicts and problems does this remind you?
6. On recording the dream, what thoughts and feelings emerge spontaneously?
7. If you've recorded many dreams, do you find a pattern or theme running
through them?
15
Republic, 480a. All Plato citations from Plato in Twelve Volumes, Vols. 5 & 6 translated by Paul
Shorey. Cambridge, MA, Harvard University Press,1969.
16
Metaphysics, 980a. All Aristotle citations from: Aristotle. Aristotle in 23 Volumes, Vols.17, 18, trans-
lated by Hugh Tredennick. Cambridge, MA, Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann Ltd.
Concerning Aristotle and the idealization of vision, see Jonas, Hans (1966). The Phenomenon of Life:
Toward a Philosophical Biology. New York: Harper & Row. On “sight” and philosophy, see Levin,
David Michael, ed. (1997). Sites of Vision: the Discursive Construction of Sight in the History of Philoso-
phy. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.

9. Volney Gay Dreams 9
Additional resources and references
The most famous book ever written on dream is by Sigmund Freud, The Interpretation of
Dreams. Originally published in 1900, it's in dozens of paperback editions and available now,
free, as a PDF on the web.
6 Sample Dreams, from published clinical accounts
A. Female, age 9: She's playing on a swing with her sister and cousin at her cousin's house.
Everyone goes inside and leaves her alone. A giant praying mantis chases her away from the
house. She runs by a large tree with many branches. They grab her. She wakes up, crying.
B. Male, age 21: A “helter-skelter” crew breaks into his house and wiped out his family and
stabbed him in the chest. He cries because he declined to attack and because he hid until
Charles Manson and company had left. Then he found a cadaver and he dissected it.
C. Female, age 21: She walks into a hotel lobby that is all red. She's overcome with fear when
she sees a man in the corner whom she apparently knows. She runs to the elevator, opens the
door, steps in but there is no floor there. She falls, finally reaches the bottom and steps into
another lobby. This is pure white. Then she dances with the same man she had previously
run away from.
D. Female, age 22: I am working as a boss in a lumber area: I am bossing the lumberjacks and
given them orders. I see an old woman there and kill her with my bare hands; the woman looks
a lot like grandmother. (The dreamer woke up scared and panicky.)
E. Male, age 39: (in 1985): In a Viet Cong-like village. He flees and hides in a grass hut. The
VC try to break the door down. His gun fires, the door opens slowly. Before the door hits the
ground, he wakes up. [Repeated dream.]
Additional References
Bion, W. R. (1967). Second Thoughts. New York: Aronson.
Boss, Medard (1982). On Dreaming: an Encounter with Medard Boss. Ed. Charles Scott. Scholars
Press.
Campbell, Joseph (1949). The Hero with a Thousand Faces. Princeton: Princeton Press.
Domhoff, G. W. (2001). A new neurocognitive theory of dreams. Dreaming, 11, 13-33.
Foulkes, W. D. (1985). Dreaming: a Cognitive-Psychological Analysis. L. E. A.
Gay, V. P. (1980). Individual needs and charismatic promises. Journal of Religion and Health,
Vol. 19, No.1, 24-39.

10. Volney Gay Dreams 10
Gay, V. P. (1989). Understanding the Occult: Fragmentation and Repair of the Self. Minneapo-
lis: Fortress Press
Gay, V. P. (1992). Freud on Sublimation: Reconsiderations. State University of New York
Press.
Grotstein, James (1981). Splitting and Projective Identification. Northvale, N. J.: Jason Aronson.
Jung, Carl (1912). Symbols of Transformation. The Bollingen Foundation: Princeton University
Press.
Kernberg, Otto (1976). Object Relations Theory and Clinical Psychoanalysis. New York: Jason
Aronson.
Kernberg, Otto et al. (1989). Psychodynamic Psychotherapy of Borderline Patients. New York:
Basic Books.
Kohut, Heinz (1977). The Restoration of the Self. New York: International Universities Press.
Kohut, Heinz (1984). How Does Analysis Cure? ed. A. Goldberg and P. Stepansky. Chicago:
University of Chicago Press.
Langs, Robert (1985). Making interpretations and securing the frame: sources of danger for psy-
chotherapists. International Journal of Psychoanalytic Psychotherapy.10: 3-23.
Meissner, W. W. (1978a). The Paranoid Process. New York: Aronson.
Meissner, W. W. (1978b). Psychoanalytic aspects of religious experience. Annual of Psycho-
analysis 6: 103-141.
Ogden, Thomas (1982). Projective Identification and Psychotherapeutic Technique. New York:
Aronson.
Ogden, Thomas (1983). The concept of internal object relations. International Journal of Psycho-
Analysis, 64:227-241.
Tedlock, Barbara (ed.) (1987). Dreaming: Anthropological and Psychological Interpretations.
Cambridge.
On the Web: See http://psych.ucsc.edu/dreams/ (William Domhoff’s group)