Free Freud's Mistress by Karen Mack Page B

demons.”
    Minna could imagine how this theory at first might seem preposterous—all neurosis originating from sexual causes. But now, listening to his reasoning, she was intrigued. He went on to analyze other cases and theories.
    It was clear to Minna that Freud had honed his skills of communication, drawing heavily on literature, philosophy, science, sexuality, and the mystery of human relationships. He was far from the stereotypical handsome man, but when he spoke, his words and actions had a captivating quality, inducing excitement and racing pulses among the young men. Minna could see it in their eyes. The air was charged with creativity as he offered his audience fresh possibilities, new ways of thinking. He made them laugh and laugh again. They were drawn to his oddities, his contradictions, and . . . why didn’t she just say it? To his greatness.
    The air was beginning to feel close in this male sanctum. Minna pulled off her scarf. She glanced back at the podium as Freud smiled and nodded in her direction. She met his gaze and then nodded back. She wanted to freeze this unexpected, secret pleasure in her mind. The instant of eye contact was over in a flash, but it seemed to silence him momentarily. She wasn’t sure how, in this large lecture hall filled with a sea of students, but the room suddenly became as intimate as dinner for two.
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    F reud’s lecture went on for over two hours. He described disturbed patients who had come to him with traumatic stories of sexual fantasies, dreams, and guilt regarding illicit behavior. He talked about a young man who had had intercourse with a prostitute and was exhibiting bizarre paranoid symptoms. A young woman who had been molested by her father suffered hysteria and breakdowns. Others who were afflicted with paralysis of the limbs, nervous cough, headaches, inability to speak, terrifying hallucinations. A bewildering number of symptoms and psychological states resulting from sexual traumas. People who were so disturbed they had been given chloral hydrate, morphine, and chloroform to sleep or been hung by their limbs in metal cuffs and subjected to electrotherapy.
    Afterward, Minna watched the students, many of whom looked young enough to be members of the Vienna Boys Choir, push forward and crowd around him, bombarding him with questions. Occasional bursts of male laughter reverberated through the hall and she moved slowly against the tide, making her way to the back door. She was almost there, her back to the podium, when somehow she felt he was looking at her.
    â€œFräulein Bernays,” he called out, the sound of his voice suddenly silencing the din in the room. “Would you mind waiting a moment?”
    She turned toward him and nodded. She had already put on her coat, hat, and gloves and was shifting, uncomfortably warm, from one boot to another as she stood near the door. He stepped down from the podium and lit a cigar, and the pungent odor of smoke drifted up to where she was standing. A few minutes later, he excused himself from the students still surrounding him and climbed the stairs to where she stood.
    â€œI hope I didn’t bore you . . .” he said, knowing full well that he hadn’t.
    She thought for a moment, wondering whether or not to offer an observation, but then, as usual, decided to forge ahead.
    â€œYou had your students’ complete attention, and adoration, I might add, but when you stated that
all
hysteria was caused by sexual dysfunction, they seemed, well, rather, incredulous,” she said.
    His gaze became appraising. “No, my dear. That’s not what I said at all. I said that the original
root
of hysteria would be sexual.”
    â€œI might have missed that.”
    â€œI find that hard to believe . . .” he said, a half smile playing on his lips.
    â€œIn any event, couldn’t you argue that some cases of hysteria