THE DREAM

Date, Tuesday or Monday, April 25 or 24, 1933.

The dream (of the subsequent night) in which I have a
complicated emotional crise about a caterpillar or long
laquer-brown beetle, gave the clue to the entire
interpretation. This dream, Freud said, represents the
whole of my life in a sequence of detached yet
continuous incidents. In that sense it is" historical",
though the content of the dream is in the main phantasy.
trying

In trying to describe the actual
dream-day source of the caterpillar-beetle, I
explain, apoligetically, that I have been reading a
romantic-literary book on astrology. I said I had been
especially reading of the various phases of Scorpio and that
that the "house" of Scorpio was November, the birth-day
"house" of my father. The matter of birth-day has come in,
because of Freud's approaching birth-day, May 6.

The whole of the original dream-sequence was
prefaced with a sort of prologue, a boat in a storm,
you and P. are present. P. tells me not to be afraid.

Freud, I am trying to play a piano on the open deck but the tilt
of the deck, the darkness and the wind and rain
interfere. I seem, finally to be looking at
a cinema representation of a storm at sea, but this boat is
another boat. I think " how well the screen gets this sort
of thing, " though I am also aware that the scene is not
artificial but actual. A number of women are standing also
on a slopeing deck of a smaller boat, nearer the water and
the dream fades out on the over-turning of the boat,
my sensations of pity and sadness. This is the prologue.
Freed said it was obviously a mixed death and birth
dream, fear of death in birth, hence you and P., and
a pity for the other women doomed to drown, or to die in

agony of child-birth.

Freud remarked previously that I was naturally going to be concerned with thoughts of death as he was an "old man," 77, and also my father had died while P. was en route, as well as the brother in France. You "feature" as it was you that helped me, and made possibly my recovery. P. is simply interested and excited, as she is on boats, and as she was, no doubt, intra uterus.

Now to the dream-sequence, a very "beautiful" construction, Freud tells me. We have been five days at it, and will go on again to-morrow and for some days, I imagine, or longer.

I meet Bryher who has apparently come from Kenwin. She is taking me to see a romantic figure, a prince in exsile or deposed, who lives in a city (Vienna?) in an old, very dark and somewhat but well-built palace. This palace is dark and empty save for this one Hamlet-esque figure. I see in my dream-mind, the palace as Bryher tells me of this prince. It is dark and the prince lives in a room with a balcony, I seem to realize that the inner part is empty and un-furnished, though his own room, communicating with the iron-RAILED balcony, is furnished with simply clear, strong necessities. He stands looking down on the street, and while Bryher tells this and I see, visualize it, we come into a country lane, and trees and a wide SHallow river.

Bryher, I should state, is clothes in a green gown of a fashionable cut, she wears a smart hat, and has peal ear-rings of an enormous size and value. These ear-rings change to moon-stones, less conspicuous. As Bryher herself never wears ear-rings, I ask her how it happens that she has them on. At the first I am dubious as to

4.

There is also a man and his wife, who, I judge are also artists, older people, friendly too and charming. These incident is complete and finished, just like that, but I find myself on stairs, seeking a higher room.

In this incident or room, I am quite alone, except for a figure, clothes in sleeping garments, asleep on a bed. I see myself now in a mirror or sequence of tilted mirrors. I am naked, and as I look at myself I am surprised to see that my front is like my back, only that it is smaller, the mons-Benus, a tiny replica of the buttocks, I am entirely smooth, like a child. This appearance of myself with two backs, or two fronts, enchants me, I think, " these are majestic mirrors." I want to get away before the owner of the room wakes. I feel ecstatic at this discovery of myself, a virgin in the majestic-mirrors, but leave secretly; appear clothed on another fight of stairs and enter another room, separate yet part apparently of this rambling original house.

In this room, heavily furnished, there is apparently a church bazar about to take place as the single iron-bed, the chairs, dressing-tables etc., are couvered with odd ornamental knick-knacks, such as we see in the old fashioned provincial church " sales. " The room is Victorian in that sense, there is a heavy carpet and the impression of framed pictures and tower-ornaments. But the remarkable thing it, there are tow Siamese cats at large, I am suddenly frightened, think, " O, now Brother will come and but me one of these cats. " This special cat is a great favourite of mine, but I had once two kittens who toe my house and life to shreds. I am anxious to escape this, eventually, and find myself alone now outside the house on a road at night agandof work-men is busy.

I sense danger, the men are armed with pick-axes and

5

spades. There are cross-rails and a rail-road
leading through a tunnel. I speak of the head of the "gang",
and he says I can only get through the tunnel, if I board a
passing train. He will help me. As I step on a train, I hand
him a half schilling. He does not seemed pleased with this
modest tip. I now hand the guard in the train, a whole
schilling (Austrian.) He takes it but again I feel
uncomfortable, does he think it a tip or the fare
in the latter case, he will hand me change. This is simply
a psychic confusion. I feel self-distrustful and finally
get out of this train, and walk into a room near on above
the station, whether I find my daughetr, about 2years old, with
my own mother and an aunt, who had charge of the
little girl for some time. They are both in black, and I
feel disapprove of me. The child is in white. I finally
leave this room or house, feeling that I have "broken" or
quarreled with them over my daughter.

I am now in a third train. This time the guard seems to
approve of me. There are papers scattered on the seat, as
on the tables of the cafes that I take coffee in, here. He
will offer me one. I wonder if it will be a "left" or
"right" paper. I am pleased when he offers me with an
air of finality, the "white" or "right" journal.

Now at last, I arrive come to where I have been
trying to get to. I am actually in Vienna and Bryher is
there to meet me. She asks Dr. Freud if he will dine with
us on his birthday in a rather fashionable, gay
restaurant. I am surprised at her audacity but Dr. F.
accepts with alacrity and Mrs. Freud is to come in a new
hat." My one concern now is how to work up my German well
enough to be able to talk with Mrs. Freud at the 77 birthday
party in the gay restaurant.

p.s. ( read after). moon colour and gem.
I see also that the green and the pearls make the
woman, the MOON. You are the MOON, and S.F.
who is young with black hair and beardless,
in the palace and later ( except for last
bit of all ) is the SUN. Maybe
father and mother, but the father and
mother each take attributes of the other, it
is the mother-bull and the father-cow, all
in this too, works out with Egyptian
symbolism. The trio is you, Freud, me (and
a child). I have tired and dreary
feelings, all pregnancy, I now imagine, and
I am to go on with it to-morrow. I suppose this
IS the crisis in excelsis. Apparently,
too, the little-dog represents a child,
though he did most carefully present it to
Perdita, I took it to be "ours, " yours and
mine. But this about the dog, oddly, came
after the dream, about the second day of it,
so fortunately I had the dream first.
Its all terribly, terribly uncanny, and as
I have now linked up the simple facts of
life with the stars, its pretty important

and F. seems to think altogether,
a trouvaille. I have not yet told him I
am " cat" and you " dog, " but I will.

I make out the three trains,
are the three men, / R.A. with the small tip,
Grey who did bring me through the " tunnel"
to a new life, and after Perdita, Rodeck, with
whom I had no money dealings ( semen. )
Also I did the " right" thing in not
consumating with P.R. At the very end, you
see I put Freud back into his place as
Hear Doctor Professor Sigmund Freud,
complete with wife in a new hat.

Its all terribly exciting. You
can see it is pretty important.

Love and thanks always,
and blessings. I hope you don't mind
being " moon, " but your birthday number
is 2, you know, the moon-number, also
moon presides over
child-birth, hence
birth days which started
the whole sequence. A limpi
CAT.

The real value and beauty of this dream is, that
it is founded on my readings of the Astrological book. I
got the clue from the Scorpio. Now I see that the bulls
are Taurus, the "house" of Freud's birthday, May.
This "house" is ruled by Venus and Freud remarked that
my vision of myself was the desire to be Venus. I denied
this, said I wished to be a virgin, as my onw "house" is
September Virgo. When I came back the day after, I told him
he was right, as thinking it all out, in terms of "houses",
I could well describe that empty mirrored room, with the
sleeping man and the naked woman, as the "house" of marriage.
He said we had bothered been right, that it was too, my
desire to be a virgin, in my house Virgo. I decided the
room with the church sale was the "house of business" and
now see the two cats probably represent the two
dogs that Freud's Chow has had, twins, the "house of
Twins" (as well) Gemini. The station room was the
"house of relatives" with my mother, aunt and daughter.
The restaurant may have been the "house of pleasure." But
the exquisite part of the dream is that it expands and
contracts and one can see new combinations, all founded on
the most trivial incident yet with a universal or
astrological symbolism.

Here is the miracle.

The clue is the fear and dread of the Scorpio, my
father, a cold, distant, upright, devoted father and
husband but for whose profession I had only terror, a
blind fear of space and the distances of the planets and the
dream of fixed stars. But no. Scorpio grew wings in my dream.
I ran forward across a room floor to open a door so that this
deadly insect might run out. But as I open the door, he
spreads bright translucent needle-like wings and with a swo
sword like directness, flies into the branches of a small
tree, and is placed in the dark hall-way. We have not

Tuesday about 7.30 P.M.

Dear Flea-do,

I was solemnly thanked on my return through the swing door
for bringing such very nice people to the Regina,
for establishing such a ghanadigste clientele in the
hotel and so on and so on, there was a double line, bowing
and scraping, I as per usual, always get all the belated
glory. I was sorry not to have come to the gare, but now write
this and will run out and post it, to say good-bye again,
hail and farewell and tillwemeetagain. I think now,
I have had time to think, that papa smelt with the whisker
that you and I had been chewing things too much. They're
are so funny, Turtle was the only one who did not seem
to come down on one somehow, from somewhere, for something.
I suppose I had a guilt for looking at the book, at the
marvelous pictures, so exactly what I wanted for the uc-n.
I have hid them in my cupboard with the chocholate egg.
I will probably hand the egg on to A., as I have not
touched mine yet, I have such a lot of good things now,
to keep me going. I felt for the first time, that I was ready
to get back to Kenwin, feel a little blue, but I suppose
that is part of the performance. I think Mouse and Douglas
were both good... in their various ways. I will write every
day details and so on. I do hope papa isn't going to bully
me now.

I will enjoy the Times and hand it on over. I have plenty
now to read. Let me know what Rover makes of the vols. I envy
him in his wide room looking out on flowers. I am really
glad you came, and it was wonderful your sticking it, and
I did so feel that you too, were benefitted and certainly
benefitting. The whole town will be on me for weeks with

praise and glory.

I will think of you over breakfast, and am sure I will forget
and after three coffees.

Make suitable speech to Mouse, and I will write her and the
Pup and Kenneth.

The place already seems
quite, quite different. I think Mouse was a great
inspiration. Thank you so much for the treatment last night.
It did me a lot of good, maybe broke the actual P.R.
weight of connection, the right thing will happen, but
it won't if I stay "fixated. " Castration and Indian (India!)
scalps are synonymous, papa says. Its all that sort of thing
penis-envy and jealousy... both for good and bad
once they become " band of brothers"! Well... thank
YOU. I do hope papa won't be nasty and say we talked
too much... but it can NOT be helped. I will need a lot
of pulling round, I am sure, when I do finally get back.
Tell Rvr. all that seems right.

This is all out of gear, I will get back to my writing
stride to-morrow. I just want to bang this in the box.
The train now will soon be leaving.

Love all round,
and thanks

and
thanks

Fri. April 21.

I had hour this morning, so could not get you off a
letter. It was very good this morning. I told papa to
give Io-fi and the fi-lets love from us all. He has
a nasty cough, but he says he always has some sort of
tendency of the sort, because of his jaw. It makes me
very sad somedays, I spoke of it, as I feared my slight/cold
might upset him, but he said he already has slight
cold himself, so it is all right. My cold is oak, except
it always ends by a germ in the middle, but it is better.
I enjoyed hour very much. I talked to-day of Rummel,
and writing . Papa said he had been with me a month and
a half and except for saying Rummel set some verses and
E.P. got my firs verses published, I had never mentioned
my writing in any way ... this has some what amazed him,
he has never known such " modesty, " but I tell him it
is something deeper, but we are to go in to that later.
He is most helpful, he says my last dreams show a state
of harmony and inner satisfaction that is very significant.
This is all to the very-good.

I have been reading the M-V business , wish you were here
to talks it over, its all most queer. Things outwardly
are quiet. I have not been out, but will try to-morrow
to shop again. I have been reading "Stars", it has been
most helpful and I am working out on a general scale,
all our " influences. " Can you tell me Buddy's
exact year ??? He shifts it about so. And also...
his birthday is in May, remember, and he makes much of it.
I will post the letter later.

This is a stupi letter. I did enjoy your little mote last
night and expect from now on, I will be having the usual

from you. Will you read enclosed and please hand on.
Give love to Puss and Pete-the-puss. I have loads
of sweets and am now recuperating in general. The
uc-n has done wonders lately, though the top of me
is a bit lost and lonely and this germ in the
belly, makes me uncomfortable.

All waiters and minions ask of you.

Love to Mause,

I had intended to write Kex, but I find I may just catch the
one o'clock post if I shoot this in now... so will
dash out, and later send K. a line. Tell him. Luf,

in
haste,