Leonardo da Vinci: Psychoanalytic notes on the enigma

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K. R. Eissler (New

York:

International

Universities

Press,

Surprise was my first reaction to Dr. Robbins‘ request for a review of Eissler’s Lennnrdo. One is rarely asked to discuss in this format a book which has been in the public domain for over twenty years. After accepting the commission, however, I realized the value of reconsidering the important and as yet unresolved problems raised by Eissler in his text, and I am therefore grateful for this opportunity to reexamine them here in terms of his argument. Eissler’s book was written as a rebuttal to a paper by the art historian Meyer Schapiro (1956) in which the latter points out, from the perspective of his own discipline, inaccuracies and inadequacies in Freud’s 1910 monograph on Leonardo (Lconnrclo da Vinci arzd (I M~tr~ory oj His C/~ildl~~ocl). Eissler’s original intention in preparing the book under discussion here was to write an apologia for and a defense of Freud’s work and his method. It is important to commend Eissler who, unlike many other scholars, frankly and openly acknowledges his agenda in the very first lines of his text. He says he is going to inquire into the “validity” of Schapiro’s criticism of Freud, that his work is a “polemic,” and that he expects it to be taken as an “apologia” for Freud’s work and methods. What is interesting here is that, although we must applaud the candor of these statements, we must not be led thereby to the unwarranted conclusion that, because Eissler consciously avows his intention to defend Freud, he is therefore equally conscious of the lack of evenhandedness and openmindedness to which such a program necessarily commits him. Eissler tells us that, whereas his original intention was polemical, he discovered in time that he had unique contributions to make not only to

1961. 400

pages,

64

plates.

530)

the more philosophical debate over evidence and methodology with which he began. but also to substantive issues concerning Leonardo’s life and work. These latter contributions are offered in Part II of his book. whereas the presentation of problems and arguments in the application of psychoanalysis to art is the focus of Part I. In this review, I shall concentrate my attention on this section of the book (i.e., Part 1) because of its more general interest to readers who may be intrigued by the relations between psychoanalysis and art but have perhaps less immediate interest in the complexities of Leonardo scholarship. Eissler begins first by dismissing Jungian criticisms of Freud’s book. He justifies this dismissal by the claim that Jungian interpretation is “characterized by a strange melange of correct observations and a fixation to mythical thinking” (p. 2) and thus falls outside the domain of the “validatable,” a fate which he considers in sharp contrast to that of both Freudian psychoanalysis and art history. At no point, however, does Eissler enter into a discussion of what he means by “validatable.” Yet, heated debates have raged for decades over the dubious status of psychoanalytic hypotheses, i.e., whether they can be validated (see, for example, the Sidney Hook symposium. 19.59, and more recently the debate among philosophers Erwin, Flax, and Eckhardt, 1981, and Edelson‘s rebuttal of Grunbaum, 1983). Likewise, the status of historical facts is an issue of continuing philosophical dispute (see Walsh, 1967: Panofsky, 1955); thus, we may wonder at Eissler’s glib and unsupported claim for the testability of psychoanalytic and art historical hypotheses. Granted, however, that whatever truth value may be assigned to assertions in one discipline, 215

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complementary v.alue can be assigned to assertions in the other. Eissler seems. as his argument proceeds. to forget the evenhandedness of this early premise. He speaks of Freud’s “great gift for blriltli~g a co/rcl.~~rt life history” (emphasis added) and of his “daring reconstruction” (sic) of Leonardo’s personality, phrases which seem to imply no small measure of reliance upon intuition and conjecture and which do not necessarily imply narratives that tally with the external facts as they are known. Coherence truth is not correspondence truth. What holds together as a cogent and convincing story may turn out to be quite the opposite when more evidence is in. I think it important here to review the “childhood memory” upon which Freud based his original interpretation of Leonardo’s personality and its revision by Schapiro, so that we can see what Eissler is about. Freud found a passage on the versa of a page devoted to the Bight of birds in which Leonardo recorded a memory that in his infancy while in the cradle a bird (which Freud thought to be a vulture on the basis of mistranslation from the Italian) came down and opened his mouth and struck him on the lips with its tail repeatedly. From this “screen memory,” Freud constructed a picture of Leonardo’s psychopathology which includes primitive oral attachment to the mother, fellatio fantasies and latent homosexuality based on intense fixation to the mother and identification with her in relation to others of his sex. Freud supported this construction in part by a lengthy discourse on the symbolism of the vulture which he traced to ancient Egyptian beliefs in a vulture-headed Mother Goddess who, because there were supposedly no male vultures, was assumed to be impregnated by the wind. This androgynous symbol is then linked up with multiple androgynous figures in Leonardo’s the St. John painting in the paintings (e.g.. Louvre). However, the trouble is. as Meyer Schapiro inconveniently pointed out in his essay, the Italian word for the species that “nibbio.” of bird Leonardo reports as having come to him in his cradle. translates as ..kite” rather than “vulture.” Thus, argued Schapiro, much of Freud’s argument must be discarded. Eissler, however, intent on defending Freud, sees it quite differently. He offers an analogy with the paleontologist who, he says. would nec-

REVIEWS essarily. reconstruct an extinct animal incorrectly if his Mhole reconstruction depended on a bone that belonged to a completely different skeleton. hlrt. says Eissler, this erroneous reconstruction would not prove false the ~~rrtlro(/ of the paleontologist. His method of reconstruction would not be shown to be wrong even though his results were in error. And. thus. he says, “neither is Freud‘s method of attempting to reconstruct Leonardo’s childhood” (p. 13). Although. he admits, Freud was mistaken as to the species of bird, still. he claims that .‘in so far as Freud‘s interpretation does not refer specifically to the kind of bird, it may be expected to be correct” (p. 14). This assumption is troubling. Outside of the realms of formal logic and mathematics where premises contrary to fact are as much the rule as the exception. I do not see that we can with such facility separate method from premise. If Freud was mistaken on such a relatively transparent and unsophisticated matter as translation, how can we be justified in granting to him. as Eissler does, “correctness” in all other aspects of his interpretation’? This argument extends moreover to the methodologically sound paleontologist, who, one might claim, ought to make a more cautious and scrupulous beginning, ought to take rather more trouble to research the aptness of his first inference before going on to erect an entire edifice upon questionable data. One wonders how such a “method” as Eissler implies would suit an architect, for example, on the correctness of whose first calculations the lives of human beings depend, or the methods of an attorney preparing a brief for litigation. When premises are false, can we proceed on the assumption that method is nonetheless intact and auxiliary conclusions sound’? I seriously doubt it. Eissler goes on to fault Schapiro for attributing Leonardo‘s so-called “memory” to a tradition whereby artists and other figures of renown and record unusual and fantastic “remember” events from their infancy as prophecies foretelling their future greatness. Eissler chides Schapiro for thus reducing Leonardo to a passive medium of historical tradition. In Eissler’s “The historian‘s hypothesis would rewords. duce the selfs spontaneous participation to zero” (p. IS). This statement seems a reductio ad absurdum of Schapiro‘s or any responsible historian’s position. No historian, by pointing out

BOOK cultural continuities, denies and cancels out thereby the contribution of individual will and intention. Rather on contrarv, it is often the psychoanalyst who. by referring to unconscious intention, seems to deny the participation of active, constructive, agency and individual will. Eissler protests that if the individual’s motives could be uncovered by historical research, “then unavoidably, the image that must emerge will be that of a lame, almost passive, mind” (p. 18). Yet, we must ask how different this is from the equally passive model that could be deduced from a deterministic psychoanalytic model that sets up consciousness as riding piggyback upon unconscious drives and mechanisms. Clearly, both of these images of the mind are polemical caricatures. Eissler has already forgotten his premise that truth values granted to the assertions of one discipline will be considered commensurate with those of the other. He is out not only to defend but to demonstrate the superiority of psychoanalysis. He has assumed the offensive position. To strengthen his case, Eissler reminds us of the psychoanalytic principle of overdetermination, which states that all psychic phenomena are caused by a plurality of factors and serve multiple functions. What he apparently forgets or conveniently omits are the e.rtcr.~trl inputs and results of these psychic phenomena, factors which must be considered alongside intrapsychic determinants and which stand in complex and (as yet) poorly understood relations to such internal factors. He makes the point that factors which are of central significance for one discipline may have only marginal significance for another. But this crucial point, upon which the very essence of interdisciplinary work turns, is never elaborated. Elsewhere (1983) I have suggested, in accord with Danto (1981), that art historical research and accurate findings must J)I.CL.CLICpsychoanalytic reconstruction in order that a shared and trustworthy context for interpretation be established as a priority. Thus, in my view, the psychoanalytic principle of overdetermination neither establishes precedence for psychoanalysis as against any other interpretive approach nor does it in any way preclude the insights and findings of the historian. In fact, if one wants to argue along somewhat different lines, one could raise rather perplexing questions about the misuse and

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limits of overdetermination as an explanatory principle. A pertinent example is that of the kite as a mother bird who, out of envy. deprives her children of food if she sees them as growing too fat (this fable was recorded in Leonardo’s notebooks but disregarded by Freud. since he thought he was dealing with a vulture). Eissler commends Schapiro‘s perspicaciousness in relating this fable and seeing in it the representation of a “hostile mother.” In Eissler‘s words, “By suggesting that Leonardo’s childhood recollection affords the interpretation of a hostile mother, he [Schapiro] draws a psychological conclusion with which psychoanalysts will generally agree .” (p. 20). Yet, Schapiro. the scrupulous art historian. never characterizes Caterina as “hostile.” This is entirely Eissler’s construction, and what are we to understand by “hostile” in this context? Are we to assume we have grounds for asserting that Caterina was in fact a hostile woman‘? Hostile in general, or hostile only vis a vis her little son‘? If so, were there no other affects in evidence’? How were these represented‘? Was hostility the predominating affect‘? Contrariwise, shall we assume that Caterina was hostile orllx (or principally) in Leonardo’s mental representation of her’? And if so. was this an infantile projection of his own rage and disappointment at being abandoned which was counterbalanced by other feelings and memories, or was this the principal organizing fantasy? How was this “hostile mother” image (invoked by Eissler) reworked in the light of Leonardo’s subsequent life experiences of all sorts, or must we assume that it remained fixed and immutable’? (This latter speculation seems the most bizarre of all in that one need only glance through any good volume of Leonardo’s drawings, jottings, inventions to see the fertility and plasticity of this uniquely inventive mind: it is supremely counterintuitive-as Eissler himself protests-to connect with this a mind passively clinging to one fixated. immutable mental image). My point here is that the principle of overdetermination can lead to richness but also to unclarity, confusion, and even to passive pictures of the mind. When Eissler goes on to make the (supercilious) claim that somehow the fact that Freud mistook kite for vulture actually gives occasion to prove “how sensitive an instrument psychoanal-

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ysis really is” (p. 11). our good sense rebels. Eissler affirms that psychoanalysis would be seriously called into question if further historical research confirmed conclusions Freud had deduced from premises later proved wrong. This statement is clearly at variance with his earlier dictum that the (externally derived) truth value of the premises cannot invalidate the method (since, by extension, the truth value of conclusions should be equally exempt from scrutiny by reference to external validation). Furthermore. this statement contradicts the spirit of Eissler’s book. which could easily be characterized as doing just that. i.e., demonstrating that, despite erroneous premises (inadequate research, etc.), Freud‘s findings concerning Leonardo‘s character and developmental history remain substantially unassailable. If this N’P~C’true, however. I maintain it would show not what a “sensitive instrument” psychoanalysis is but rather that psychoanalysis can operate in perfect isolation from the facts, can stand, as it were. outside of history, can claim, in other words, not a scientific status but rather a quasi-religious, or metaphysical one. Clearly, this is not what Eissler wants to imply, but it is what he does imply, driven by his overweening desire to defend the master. So far, I have tried to show that Eissler’s polemics have led him into deep and turbulent waters, but a brief review such as this is not the place to carry these arguments further nor to expose the deeper philosophical issues which underlie them. Suffice it to say that Eissler fails, in my view, to comprehend the spirit of Schapiro’s paper, fails to record that Schapiro describes Freud’s work on Leonardo as possesssimplicity and vigor” (p. 303), ing “a beautiful fails to note that Schapiro respectfully appreciates the possible contributions of psychoanalytic inquiry to the study of art and artists. What Schapiro is concerned with are the priorities and boundaries of different types of data and interpretative frameworks; his claim is that PSYchoanalysis has no business rushing in where angels fear to tread, i.e., that, in cases where facts prove scarce. caution and conservatism are preferable to rash speculation. Schapiro k disturbed by the psychoanalyst’s propensity to fiil in gaps by appeal to. universal non-falsifiable thus shortcircuiting whatever psychic givens,

evidence painstaking research might unearth to support or weaken its claims. Eissler fails to respond satisfactorily to this legitimate challenge and at times exacerbates the problem by treating Schapiro’s paper as if it were the hurling of a gauntlet rather than an invitation for serious scholarly debate. In sum, I recommend Eissier’s book rwt to all who are fascinated by the contributions psychoanalysis has to make to our understanding of the arts, but only to those who have sufficient interest to do the necessary homework preparation, i.e., to read (or re-read) hot/l Freud’s original paper on Leonardo ( 19 10) and the Schapiro paper of 1956. Eissler’s book, interesting from the point of view of the history of ideas, cannot stand alone as a valid contribution out of context with these earlier works as well as with several that have come after (see Farrell, 1963; MerieauPonty. 1964: and Wollheim, 1974. as well as my own previously cited paper, 1983, among others). Eissler’s view that the historian can construct Leonardo. a puppet” only a “papier-mache (p. 59) is clearly a distortion easily comparable with similar distortions and reductions of a psychoanalytic perspective. Eissler’s polar opposition of the Freudian view of man “in conflict” with the historian’s view of man as “mirror of custom and tradition” (p. 59) need not necessarily be seen as oppositional. These different views, even in the exaggerated form which Eissler presents them, can be taken as compiementary rather than antipathetic. Hopefully, Eissler has not been swayed by his view of man as a system in conflict to such an extent that among all spheres of human intellectual endeavor only conflict is apparent. For, if we seek to forge valid and valuable links across the disciplines, we must clearly forsake polemics and explore our conflicts by means of dialogue and rational discourse. Eissler’s intimation that all historians will be hampered in their search for insight and truth until such time as they obtain “maximum knowiedge of the structure of the human mind by consistent and long-lasting clinical work” (p. 73) strikes the present day reader as more farfetched than Schapiro’s implicit charge to the psychoanalyst that he do his homework before daring to interpret the paintings of Pietro Lorenzetti, say, or Jan van Eyck. The goal as I see it is not to

BOOK make psychoanalysts out of art historians. nor art historians out of psychoanalysts, but rather to facilitate the reading of each other’s works with sensitivity and openmindedness and with the desire to contribute to a mutual endeavor. Let us, in closing. also not forget the substantial contributions of aestheticians, art therapists, and mirabile dictu. of the artists themselves!

Center

Ellen Handler Spitz, PhD for Psychoanalytic Training and Research Columbia University New York, New York

REFERENCES DANTO. A. t 1981 J Deep interpretation. p/i?- 78: 691-706.

Jorrrn~l

r,/‘Pltilo.\o-

ECKHARDT. B. V. (1981) Evaluating the scientific status of psychoanalysis. Jwr~tr( o/‘ P/ti(<,sol>lr~ 78: 570-572.

Robert (New

York:

International

Universities

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REVIEWS EDELSON, 51. (1983) P.,c,/l,,~//r[il?ti~ Sr+

Testing psychoanalytic hypotheses. (I! rirc, Cilr/tI 38: 61-109.

ERWIN. E. I 19811 The truth about psychoanalysis. Jcnrrnc~l 111,‘%;/~~.,,,~~/I> 78: 519-560. FARRELL, B. (1963) Introduction to S. Freud’s Ler)ntrrclr) C/U I’i,rt,~ tr,tc! LI .\/r,n~~r> cjt’ Hi\ Ci~i(di~~xl. Harmondsworth and Baltimore: Pengutn. FLAX. J. (1981) Psychoanalysis and the philosophy of science: Critique or resistance’! JOUT~I~I~oj‘ Phil<~,~~plt~ 78: 56 l-569.

hlERLEAU-PONTY, 11. (1964) Cezanne’s Doubt. In H. L. Dreyfus S: P. A. Dreyfus. trans., Sc~ve c~rnl ,\~wl-Scwc. Evanston. IL: Northwestern University Press. PANOFSKY. E. ( 1955) .I/<,trrri~~ in rllc l’i.tllo/ Arr.\. Garden City, NY: Doubleday. SCHAPIRO, hl. (1956) Leonardo and Freud: An art htstorical study. Jo,~r~tr/ ~I/‘I/IL* I/i,~rwx r~/~/~l~,[~ 17: 303-336. SPITZ. E. H. (1983) On and beyond pathography: A comparison oftwo models in the psychoanalytic interpretation of art. L’i.v/roI ;\rr.v Rr.\c,~/w/r 9: 55-63. WALSH. W. H. (1967) /‘i~il(r\~~/~l~v o/’ //i\rr~~. New York: Harper Torchbooks. WOLLHEILI. R. (1974) Ott ,4rl (I~I
Waelder.

PhD

Press. Inc.,

1965. 122 pages. S20.00

“Ego pleasure,” according to the late psychoanalyst Robert Waelder, is evoked by the formal economy displayed by works of art. This lucidly written and, for the most part, tightly-reasoned little book affords much ego pleasure and presents material which broadens our understanding of the classical psychoanalytic approach to the nature of art and beauty. Based upon an expanded version of a lecture from the Freud Anniversary Lecture Series of The New York Psychoanalytic Institute, the text is comprised of of Aesthetic Response,” and Part I, “Aspects Part II, “The Situation of the Arts in the ConIn Part I, after presenting temporary World.” some basic considerations, Dr. Waelder examines the id, ego. and superego aspects of the artistic process. In so doing, he makes it clear that a psychoanalytic theory of esthetics has more to offer than an elaboration of the concept

hard-cover)

of sublimation. At the same time, he does not make the mistake of presenting the psychoanalytic model as one which can completely account for the phenomena of art. He points out that the experience of art encompasses both conflictridden and conflict-free areas of the psyche and suggests that psychoanalysis has less relevance for the conflict-free aspects. It is tempting, faced with the compact material in Part I, to state that further explication would detract from its elegance and, at this point, to simply refer you to the original with the recommendation that you choose a comfortable chair, supply yourself with a cup of your favorite hot beverage, and settle in for a rewarding hour. However. a truly succinct bit of writing implies more than is explicitly stated. And since Dr. Waelder does not directly address the implications for the practice of therapy. I believe a few