The Harbinger of Truth

As I sat down to explore my thoughts about psychoanalysis and its place as a therapy and a philosophy in this new century, the instrumental by Vangelis, “To the Unknown Man,” played itself through my mind. The song is not well known, carrying with it little of the apparent power of Vangelis’ work in Chariots of Fire. Yet there is an attraction there, something that draws some listeners into it. As for myself, as the song proceeds, it lures me, pulling me farther and farther into it until I am left with no place to go and no desire to fight where it may lead. As the tempo increases and the darker rhythms overtake me, I feel myself drawing peace from the release that it allows until it possesses all of me and I abandon myself to the music. As with all songs, the music comes to an end. But, as with all things that are truly moving, it is not forgotten and its effects remain long after, inspiring and directing my thoughts.

These free associations remind me of what Reik said in his Thirty Years with Freud (1940). Reik discussed the effects that psychoanalysis can have upon one. If one is true to the cause and the study of psychoanalysis, then one cannot help but be grasped by it. It takes hold of all who are willing to allow it, all that allow themselves to be possessed and indeed overcome by it. It is a thing that affects, a thing that, once the music has stopped, continues to pervade and work within one’s psyche. It is a path that one has the grand opportunity of taking if one is willing to do so.

As so aptly stated by Shakespeare, “There’s the rub.” With the opportunity to take such a path, are we, as a civilization, willing to embrace it, to risk taking the journey that psychoanalysis offers us, with all of its trials and tribulations as well as all of its insights? I fear not, and this fear leads me to give little reason for optimism for our civilization.

There are few things that we fear, we brave souls of the 21st century. Much that had once plagued our world, that had caused us fear, has been removed or played down for our sanity’s sake. Yet there remains one fear, one primary fear: that of knowing something about ourselves that we cannot look past.

We talk about sex and aggressive behavior and pretend that we are wise regarding these things. Yet we turn a blind eye to what these things mean, what they do to us and to our world. We see these things as acting upon us alone, as if we lived in an illusion where we believe that what we do and the way that we live does not effect others in our shadows, in our lives. A psychiatrist colleague of mine is a prime example of this fallacy of thought. Given the opportunity to explore with a patient the effect on her psyche of her husband’s choices, he preferred to keep up the illusion that her husband’s behavior had no effect upon her or their children but was an act separate, in a world all of his own. Why did the psychiatrist tell such a fallacy? Was it perhaps to protect himself and his client from the discomfort it might cause? Was it possible that he was trying to protect her from the effects of psychological insight? Whatever his goal might have been, he deceived her and allowed her to live under the illusion that her husband’s behavior was, honestly, none of her business and none of her concern. Does this not pose the greatest of threats?

This does not mean that psychoanalysis is a failure, a poor vision by a poor visionary. No, psychoanalysis has not failed. Instead it is man and civilization that have failed. We as parents, teach-

Page 25

ers, mentors and guides, as citizens all, have failed to bring up a culture where honesty and self-exploration are prized. Instead we adhere to the mystical, the unknown driving force, running from something that we believe haunts us instead of allowing ourselves the chance to realize that it sets us free. Never do we look toward honesty, the honesty that Freud espoused and worked so hard to attain through his science. Through it man is offered the opportunity to combat and overcome this greatest of all fears. Indeed, psychoanalysis is the one harbinger of truth. It is only through this search, this journey into truth, the truth of oneself, that man can come to develop understanding.

This course of free associations brings my mind back to “To the Unknown Man.” Is it not a paradox, this song and its title? On the one hand it guides one to a place of self-exploring abandon, while on the other it emphasizes through its very name the failure of people to know or want to know themselves. Perhaps this is why the song is so unknown. We hasten from anything that threatens us with self-knowledge — be it Vangelis’ haunting song or the science and art of self-exploration, psychoanalysis. I prefer to stay with self-exploring abandon. Letting its melody again fill my mind’s ear I wonder why more are not willing to be drawn into the music and the journey on which it can take us?

Page 26