Sándor Ferenczi dicta o escribe entrada por entrada la letra de este diario el año anterior a su muerte. Es una escritura asediada por una plétora de sentido y marcada por las fuertes diferencias teóricas que tuvo con su maestro Sigmund Freud ese año de 1932. La lectura resulta conmovedora como fueron conmocionantes los traumas de las enfermas con sufrimiento psíquico grave que Ferenczi se esfuerza en sanar: son unos pocos casos que él retoma aquí una y otra vez para dibujar el drama vivo del tratamiento y la personalidad de sus pacientes, estallada, despedazada, fragmentada, pero que él sabe ir a buscar hasta lo profundo y lo recóndito para una sutilísima labor de reunión en la unidad de un trato humano leal. Ferenczi rechaza una «técnica» psicoanalítica positivista que presupone un operador, el analista, un instrumento, la técnica, y un objeto, el paciente. El análisis es trato humano. Presupone simpatía en el rico sentido de este término que se ha empleado también en la teoría social. En el Diario se hace patente el dolor de Ferenczi por tener que afirmar sus puntos de vista frente a Freud, pero asistimos también al esfuerzo constructivo y creador de una inteligencia potentísima que elabora un nuevo paradigma para el psicoanálisis. La publicación del Diario después de una dilación tan grande restituye al psicoanálisis un capítulo olvidado de su historia pero que lo trabajaba subterráneamente y que lo prepara para los debates del presente y del futuro.
This is a difficult read. Reading it alone, outside of a group, is hard but in some ways less intense. I find in a group situation, the discussion of it brings up challenging feelings that make you want to throw the towel in. It is important to remember it's a diary of his work with several smart but sexually traumatized people. Some who came to him as a last hope to change. He was kind, (to a fault) and flexible enough to listen and respect their complaints about his technique and the anxieties it induced. I can't say I find it a fun but it's interesting, inspiring and important. For example he notices how deadness is created by anesthetizing oneself in various ways. It can be used to numb out and protect from pain. But he thought of the alcoholic, where intoxication is the vehicle that recreates the state of mind of the trauma.
To read Ferenczi is always a pleasure but to read his diary and have access to his less structured thoughts was incredibly fun and insightful. There are some beautifully vulnerable moments and very human self-questioning, not to mention intrepid experimentation and true humanism…all at a time when Freud reigned supreme and, essentially, frowned on all of the above to the detriment of his craft. It’s a shame to think that there was a near blackout of Ferenczi’s name in psychoanalytic literature from 1935 until the late 80’s due to Freudian sycophants protecting Freud’s brand. An unbiased reading of Ferenczi’s work shows us his rightful historical place as a remarkable psychoanalytic thinker, and this diary, written at the end of his life shows that he was sharp and visionary even during the Freudian soap opera of his final days.