The Freudian legacy has been notable for its staying power, and notorious for the proliferation of types and factions it has spawned.  In its travels across disciplinary and national boundaries, psychoanalysis has been able to find a place for itself in one context after another.  Yet when one opens the door to this history, one spies a collection of squabbling bedfellows so strange that one can only marvel at their willingness even to fight with one another.
    Arranged slightly differently, however, these puzzle pieces do fit together.  Both the staying power and the proliferation make sense when each is considered an expression of a single historical process:  the representation, within the ranks of psychoanalysis, of potentially antagonistic outside forces.  In considering this process, I have sometimes pictured psychoanalysis as a strategically located village where the clash of national armies is mirrored in the battles of local partisans.  Since virtually any cultural trend which might oppose psychoanalysis is represented by some psychoanalytic group or another, any large-scale change of fortunes also spells victory for a local psychoanalytic representative.  The result has been an uncommon intellectual resilience built upon entangling external alliances to larger cultural movements.
    The current issue of Social Research grew out of an interest in this state of affairs.  More specifically, I wanted to look at the local history of the reception of psychoanalysis in a variety of cultural and institutional settings, where the forces which sustain this process ought to be visible.  I understood, of course, that this reception process is not unique to psychoanalysis, but I believed psychoanalysis to have all the raw material needed for an ideal case study of a reception history.  After all, where else might one find a codified canon equivalent to the Standard Edition; or the back and forth between texts and clinical practices; or a politically charged, forced exile which produced ruptures and discontinuities in traditions and, in some cases, a scramble for new alliances?  And, most of all, where else might one find so complicated an amalgam of the perspectives of cultural marginality and establishment of power in the host countries which have received psychoanalysis?
    Each reader will have to judge whether these essays vindicate my belief in the rich resources available in these histories, but any reader can learn from them.  Substantial primary research appears here. And the authors guide the reader with canny cultural awareness of the sources used.
    In analyzing the material presented, most of the authors comment upon the formation of local psychoanalytic links to larger cultural movements and influences, and a few record the dramatic impact on psychoanalysis of events originating in some distant quarter.  To speak of "forming links" is not, of course, to imply deliberation, for the mode of operation need not be active, or even conscious.  For example, we read in Gilman's article about links which cannot plausibly be understood as fully intentional, for he argues for unsettling thematic affinities between hateful and culturally deep anti-Semitic views and psychoanalytic doctrines.  And, though one finds no comparably evil player in Cournut's "Three Acts" of psychoanalysis in France, the links he finds between the "psychoanalytic microcosm" and the changing social climate include notably few signs of psychoanalytic self-direction.
    In other cases, when dramatic events have concentrated the minds of analysis, forming links has become a matter of deliberate alliances, subject to hot debate.  Perhaps this is because the stakes get high, as they were for the analysis in Hollander's article on Argentina, who found political choices forced on them by the collapse of the civil society under military terror, or for the supporters of psychoanalysis in Miller's article on Russia, who found their earlier progressive associations and stress on Freudian "materialism" insufficient to protect analysis from the attack on its bourgeois origins.
    Often links are formed out of sight, in the murky zone where cultural assumptions do their work.  These assumptions prepare readers to recognize most readily those aspects of psychoanalysis which resonate most strongly to their own preoccupations, and find in psychoanalytic texts and practices answers to the questions which have troubled their communities.  Not surprisingly, this selective reading can easily become unwitting - or at least unacknowledged - revision, as happened in the Americanization of psychoanalysis described by Kirschner.  She argues that the meaning of the Freudian concepts of autonomy and expression was systematically expanded, thereby accommodating them to secularized Protestant values prominent in Anglo-American culture.  Similarly, Winslow shows how it was that, although both Maynard Keynes and Leonard Woolf made use of Freud to analyze the threat to civilization posed by irrationality, they nevertheless drew quite different ethical and political conclusions.
    Selective reading has worked in an opposed direction as well, systematically limiting rather than expanding Freud's meaning.  or example, in the Indian example described by Hartnack and the Japanese example described by Taketomo, we read of analysts who viewed certain Freudian concepts as too narrow to be applied to their cultures. Far from striving to expand the meaning of potentially applicable Freudian terms to allow "data" to be seen as continuous with his, they interpreted Freud as in need of revision by on-site observers.
    Interestingly, we also learn that in Russia, Japan, and India, psychoanalysis entered cultures with established traditions of receiving and transforming ideas exported from Western Europe.  And in each we find that early psychoanalytic articles took an interest in culturally esteemed texts, treating them with respect, as sources of knowledge compatible with psychoanalysis.  Perhaps Freud's defiant tone - his determination to resist esteemed articles of faith - would, in these new contexts, have seemed like the derision of an external invader, rather than the protest of a dissenter.
    By tracing the various receptions accorded psychoanalysis, I believe we may not only come to a richer understanding of the documents and practices received, finding there a heretofore unseen variety, but we may in addition, gain some understanding of the position of psychoanalysis in the cultural locale inhabited by many readers of this journal.  Very many of us who read and study psychoanalysis today do so from a position of strained alignment with the world he inhabited, uneasy with many of the modernist ideals he expressed, yet uncertain what might plausibly replace them.
    In the context of what remains of cultural modernism, analytic ideas may strike the reader as a communication from the last outpost of a dying world, a partly garbled message in which can be made out residual attachments to nineteenth-centruy bourgeois faith in universality, reason, and science.  And in the context of a cultural movement seeking to supersede these values (such as postmodernism), the psychoanalytic message can be read as the subversion of modernist faith.  So it may be that psychoanalysis attracts interest in this cultural in-between time because it captures so exactly the mixed feelings which inevitably play a part in contemporary efforts at self-definition.

    I would like to thank the many individuals who helped me as I prepared this issue.  Specific contributions were made by Drs. Morris Eagle, Leo Goldberger, Norbert Freedman, Serge Moscovici, Don Moss, Louis Sass, and Otto Thaler.  All busy men, each generously took time from his schedule to offer advice, encouragement, and, in some cases, specific practical assistance needed to move things along.  Institutional acknowledgment is due to the departments of psychology and psychiatry at SUNY Health Science Center at Brooklyn, where I have been supported as a clinical research fellow during the final period of this issue's preparation.
    I have learned much that proved indirectly valuable from my conversations with two men.  From Dr. Andrew Tuck, I learned something of the fate of ancient Asian texts in nineteenth-century European hands, and so came better to understand the risks and opportunities that confront books when they leave home.  From Dr. Leopold Bellak, I learned something of a career begun in Vienna and forcibly transplanted to the United States, and so came better to understand how the emigration of ideas is shaped by personal circumstances, initiative, and imagination, as well as by the cultural setting which receives ideas from abroad.
    A different, indirect contribution came from stimulating conversations with friends at the Institute for Health, Health Care Policy, and Aging at Rutgers University.  These conversations taught me that in a  narrative which chronicles the spread of Freud's legacy, one is well advised to keep an eye on such homely details as third-party payments, clinical work loads, grant money, and social prestige.
    In closing, I would like to assume an unusual prerogative for a guest editor and dedicate this issue to the memory of Dr. David Seaman.  His fine contribution as a historian of psychology was cut short by his decision to forgo the pleasures of full-time scholarship to dedicate himself to the search for a treatment for AIDS.  His death has taken from those who know him an engaging intellectual presence, memorable for his combination of uncompromising intellectual rigor, generosity, wit, and style.

    Editor's Introduction                                           James Walkup,
                                                                                Guest Editor                                                        779

    Bloomsbury, Freud, and the
    Vulgar Passions                                                  Ted Winslow                                                         785

    The Assenting Echo:
    Anglo-American Values in
    Contemporary Psychoanalytic
    Developmental Psychology                                  Suzanne R. Kirschner                                          821

    Psychoanalysis in France: Act III                         Jean Cournut                                                        859

    The Reception of Psychoanalysis
    and the Problem of the
    Unconscious in Russia                                          Martin A. Miller                                                  875

    Buenos Aires: Latin Mecca of
    Psychoanalysis                                                     Nancy Caro Hollander                                       889

    Vishnu on Freud's Desk:
    Psychoanalysis in Colonial India                           Christiane Hartnack                                           921

    Cultural Adaptation to
    Psychoanalysis in Japan, 1912-52                        Yasuhiko Taketomo                                            951

    Table of Contents and Index of
    Contributors to Volume 57                                                                                                             1019
 

Jean Cournut, a psychiatrist and psychoanalyst, is a member of the Psychoanalytic Society of Paris.

Sander L. Gilman, Goldwin Smith Professor of Humane Studies at Cornell University, is currently Visiting Historical Scholar at the National Library of Medicine, Bethesda, Maryland.  His most recent book is Sexuality: An Illustrated History (1989).

Christiane Hartnack, a clinical psychologist, has taught at the University of Berlin and the University of Iowa.  She is working on a study of hysteria in historical and intercultural perspective.

Nancy Carol Hollander is a professor of history at California State University, Dominguez Hills, and a clinical affiliate at the Psychoanalytic Center of California.  She is working on a biography of Marie Langer.

Suzanne R. Kirschner, an instructor in social studies at Harvard College, is completing a doctoral dissertation on Christian mystical and high-romantic sources of the post-Fredudian psychoanalytic narrative of development.

Martin A. Miller, a professor of history at Duke University, is working on a history of psychoanalysis in the Soviet Union.

Yasuhiko Taketomo is clinical professor of psychiatry at the Albert Einstein College of Medicine and attending physician at Montefiore Medical Center/The Jack D. Weller Hospital of the Albert Einstein College of Medicine and at St. Vincent's Hospital and Medical Center of New York, Westchester Division.

James Walkup is clinical research fellow in the Department of Psychiatry, SUNY Health Science Center, Brooklyn, New York, and editorial associate with Social Research.

Ted Winslow is associate professor in the Division of Social Science, York University, Ontario, Canada.  He is working on a book on psychoanalysis and the psychological foundations of Keynes's economics.