In the half-century since his death, the Hungarian analyst Sándor Ferenczi has amassed an influential following within the psychoanalytic community. During his lifetime Ferenczi, a respected associate and intimate of Freud, unleashed widely disputed ideas that influenced greatly the evolution of modern psychoanalytic technique and practice. In a sequence of short, condensed entries, Sándor Ferenczi’s Diary records self-critical reflections on conventional theory―as well as criticisms of Ferenczi’s own experiments with technique―and his obstinate struggle to divest himself and psychoanalysis of professional hypocrisy. From these pages emerges a hitherto unheard voice, speaking to his heirs with startling candor and forceful originality―a voice that still resonates in the continuing debates over the nature of the relationship in psychoanalytic practice.
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.