1071
What I have called dream-displacement might equally be described as ‘a
transvaluation of psychical values.’ I shall not have given an exhaustive estimate
of this phenomenon, however, unless I add that this work of displacement or
transvaluation is performed to a very varying degree in different dreams. There are
dreams which come about almost without any displacement. These are the ones
which make sense and are intelligible, such, for instance, as those which we have
recognized as undisguised wishful dreams. On the other hand, there are dreams
in which not a single piece of the dream-thoughts has retained its own
psychical value, or in which everything that is essential in the dream-thoughts has
been replaced by something trivial. And we can find a complete series of
transitional cases between these two extremes. The more obscure and confused a dream
appears to be, the greater the share in its construction which may be attributed
to the factor of displacement.
Our specimen dream exhibits displacement to this extent at least, that its
content seems to have a different centre from its dream-thoughts. In the foreground of the dream-content a prominent
place is taken by a situation in which a woman seems to be making advances to
me; while in the dream-thoughts the chief emphasis is laid on a wish for once to
enjoy unselfish love, love which ‘costs nothing’ - an idea concealed behind the
phrase about ‘beautiful eyes’ and the far-fetched allusion to ‘spinach.’
If we undo dream-displacement by means of analysis, we obtain what seems to
be completely trustworthy information on two much-disputed problems concerning
dreams: as to their instigators and as to their connection with waking life.
There are dreams which immediately reveal their derivation from events of the
day; there are others in which no trace of any such derivation is to be
discovered. If we seek the help of analysis, we find that every dream without any
possible exception goes back to an impression of the past few days, or, it is probably
more correct to say, of the day immediately preceding the dream, of the
dream-day.’ The impression which plays the part of dream-instigator may be such an
important one that we feel no surprise at being concerned with it in the
daytime, and in that case we rightly speak of the dream as carrying on with the
significant interests of our waking life. As a rule, however, if a connection is to
be found in the content of the dream with any impression of the previous day,
that impression is so trivial, insignificant and unmemorable, that it is only
with difficulty that we ourselves can recall it. And in such cases the content of
the dream itself, even if it is connected and intelligible, seems to be
concerned with the most indifferent trivialities, which would be unworthy of our
interest if we were awake. A good deal of the contempt in which dreams are held is
due to the preference thus shown in their content for what is indifferent and
trivial.