Deadly Communion

object.’

‘Do you believe the polymorphous disposition has limits? Or do you believe that anything can become sexually arousing?’

‘If you harbour any doubts,’ said Freud, pushing the cigar box towards his guest, ‘then you need look no further than the pages of Krafft-Ebing’s Psychopathia Sexualis.’ Freud stubbed out his own cigar, lit Liebermanns, and then took another for himself. ‘Moreover,’ he continued, touching the end of his cigar to the flame and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. ‘I am not so sure that Krafft-Ebing’s cases — however disturbing — exhibit behaviours that are qualitatively different from those which might be observed also in the bedroom of a respectable household.’ Freud glanced again at his manuscript: ‘The most common and the most significant of all perversions — the desire to inflict pain upon the sexual object and its reverse — received from Krafft-Ebing the names sadism and masochism. As regards to sadism, the roots are easy to detect in the normal. The sexuality of most male human beings contains an element of aggressiveness — a desire to subjugate; the biological significance of it seems to lie in the need for overcoming the resistance of the sexual object by means other than the process of wooing. Thus, sadism would correspond to an aggressive component of the sexual instinct which has become independent and exaggerated and, by displacement, has usurped the leading position.’

‘What you suggest implies that — given the right constellation of influences — any of us might have become one of Krafft-Ebing’s monsters.’

‘Indeed.’ Freud toyed with one of the statuettes that stood next to the cigar box — a vulture with a worn, featureless head, perched on a pedestal. ‘Binet was the first to maintain that the choice of a fetish is an after-effect of some sexual impression, received as a rule in early childhood …’ He spoke these words dreamily, and Liebermann sensed they were more like a private afterthought than a conclusion. The tone of Freud’s voice conveyed two rather contradictory meanings. On the one hand, he seemed glad that he was not the only person to entertain such ideas, but on the other, he appeared slightly resentful of the fact that he must concede intellectual priority to another theorist.

A silence prevailed, during which time the smoke haze intensified to such an extent that everything in the room acquired the flat colour-tones of a sepia photograph.

Liebermann had learned enough to give him confidence in his speculative diagnosis of thanatophilia. Freud’s new ideas on deviance seemed to legitimise all possibilities. With respect to the erotic instinct, anything was possible. Wishing to make the most of his time with the great man, Liebermann resolved to test his views on another topic.

‘I have an interesting patient,’ the young doctor ventured, changing position to disturb Freud’s reverie.

The professor looked up: ‘I’m sorry?’

‘I have an interesting patient,’ Liebermann repeated. ‘At the hospital: a gentleman who thinks he’s seen his doppelganger — and now must die.’

Freud waved his cigar, indicating that he wished to hear more. Liebermann adopted the telegraphic style of medical men when summarising a case history: ‘Herr E. Born in Tulln: worked as secretary to a councillor in the Town Hall: lost his job when his employer died: came to Vienna — and is currently employed as an importer’s administrator.’ After sketching Erstweiler’s background, Liebermann recounted his patient’s descriptions of seeing his double.

Freud puffed repeatedly on his cigar until the smoke which he was producing became so abundant that he all but vanished behind it. Liebermann sensed that the great man was deep in thought and waited respectfully. Eventually, Freud cleared his throat.

‘The idea that we possess a double most probably originates from our earliest experience of reflections. In a mirror, we see ourselves as something separate, removed; however, this illusion must have preceded the invention of the looking-glass. Our primitive ancestors would have viewed their “doubles” in the surface of still water — or even as a tiny homunculus in the eyes of others. Thus, as soon as human beings could form the concept of self, experience of reflections would have suggested the existence of another self. We must conclude, therefore, that the idea of the double is deeply rooted in the human psyche.’

Freud seemed pleased with this initial exposition, and smiled before continuing: ‘Now, let us turn our attention to religious teachings. In all cultures, the idea of the double appears in the guise of a soul — a spiritual doppelganger. And wherever we find religion, we also find the terror of oblivion. So …’ He paused to produce another volcanic cloud. ‘It is possible that the double represents a defence against the destruction of the ego, as the soul — the first double of the body — is an insurance against annihilation. The operation of this defence is evident in the burial rites of ancient Egypt, where it was commonplace to make images of the dead in lasting materials.’ Freud pointed to a tiny bronze box with the figurine of a bird on its lid. ‘See here: this coffin for a sacred animal. Late period. Between about seven hundred and three hundred BC.’ He was unable to resist stroking the falcon’s beak. ‘The desire for eternal life springs from the soil of unbounded self-love, from the primary narcissism which dominates the mind of the child and of primitive man. But when this stage has been surmounted, the double reverses its aspect. From having been an assurance of immortality it becomes an uncanny harbinger of death. It is in this form that the double is better known to the German-speaking peoples.’

The professor took another cigar from his cigar box.

‘And there may be another process at work: it may be that material offensive to the ego — unacceptable fantasies, all the strivings of the ego which adverse external circumstances have crushed, and all our suppressed acts of volition — are projected outwards to something foreign. But such material cannot be disowned completely, and the object into which this undesirable material is incorporated takes the form of another self.’

Liebermann wanted to discuss this point further, but the professor had returned to an earlier theme: ‘Doubling as a preservation against extinction also has its counterpart in the language of dreams. If one of the ordinary symbols for a penis — a tower, let us say — occurs in a dream doubled — thus, two towers — the doubling must be regarded as the warding-off of castration.’

Freud picked up another cigar and lit it. He was about to put the used match in his ashtray when he noticed that he had not finished the cigar he had been smoking. He had simply put it down for a few moments and forgotten that it was there.

‘Mmm … two cigars,’ he muttered.

His expression darkened, and with evident unease he stubbed out his old cigar and put the new one into his mouth.

25

RHEINHARDT WAS SEATED NEXT to his wife Else, and further down the park bench his eldest daughter, Therese, was reading a book. His younger daughter, Mitzi, was deliberating with another girl whether or not to get on the merry-go-round (which had been commandeered by two boys wearing short trousers and flat caps). A group of mothers, dressed rather too finely for the occasion, were conversing in the shade of a tree, while two nursemaids rocked perambulators in order to keep the tiny occupants asleep.

‘I was speaking to Frau Gaul this morning,’ said Else. ‘She went to the opera on Saturday to see Pagliacci. She said it was wonderful.’

Since the discovery of Adele Zeiler’s body in the Volksgarten, Rheinhardt had had few opportunities to spend time with his family. The normality of sitting in the park with his wife and daughters was like a spiritual emollient.

‘Would you like to go?’

‘Yes,’ Else replied, somewhat surprised by her husband’s response. He was always so busy that it had not occurred to her that he might act on Frau Gaul’s recommendation.

‘Then we shall go.’ Rheinhardt paused for a moment before adding, ‘In fact, we’ll all go — and to blazes with the expense. Would you like to see Pagliacci, Therese?’

His daughter looked up from her book, making heroic efforts to hide her excitement. In actuality she had not