way. After seven or eight minutes he fell into a kind of sleep, during which he was able to bold a perfectly sensible conversation, answer questions, sing songs, mimic shooting, and dance to imagined music; however, on waking, Race had no memory of any of these things.
Puységur experimented with other patients, and began to employ special instructions that encouraged ‘sleep’. Still encumbered by Mesmer’s theoretical framework, Puységur assumed that he had stumbled upon a new form of crisis – albeit a less dramatic form than Mesmer’s convulsive original. He called his new discovery ‘the perfect crisis’; however, this term was soon superseded by ‘magnetic sleep’ and then finally ‘artificial somnambulism’ (suggesting a progressive willingness to abandon Mesmer’s vocabulary). Somnambulism is the medical term for sleepwalking, and Puységur had obviously recognised that the two states (magnetic sleep and the sleepwalker’s trance) were close cousins. Puységur was leaning towards a psychological explanation, and eventually he concluded that artificial somnambulism had nothing to do with animal magnetism (a supposed physical force), but rather the imposition of the magnetiser’s will on that of his subject.
Thus began a major rift in Mesmeric circles. Two factions emerged: traditionalists, who followed Mesmer’s doctrine to the letter, and revisionists, who were more enthusiastic about Puységur’s new technique and explanatory framework. The latter group abandoned the provocation of dramatic crises, focused on sending their patients to sleep, and experimented with simpler treatment methods. They also questioned the efficacy of group treatments such as the
Baquet.
Mesmerism no longer required the presence of a magus and enough props to stage an amateur production of
The Magic Flute.
In fact, mesmerism no longer required Mesmer.
In Puységur’s wake, artificial somnambulism was understood to be therapeutic in several ways. Firstly, the trance state itself was thought to be beneficial because it possessed the same properties as any restorative or satisfying sleep. Secondly, when entranced, individuals were suggestible to the extent that certain symptoms could be removed by way of a simple command. However, such ‘treatments’ were only superficially effective, insofar as symptoms tended to reappear on waking. Finally, because artificial somnambulism was a kind of sleep, a dialogue could be established with pathogenic parts of the mind that were normally inaccessible. Thus, treatment sometimes took the form of a discussion between doctor and patient, with the patient replying to questions in his or her sleep. This presumably had a precedent in exorcism, during which priests were often called upon to bargain with evil spirits for the release of their host. Even so, the procedure merits obvious comparison with contemporary psychotherapy.
It is of some interest to note that a little-known Bavarian priest, Johann Joseph Gassner, acquired a considerable reputation as a healer by provoking therapeutic crises in his patients two years before Mesmer developed his magnetic treatment. According to Gassner, however, the therapeutic crises he provoked were caused by demonic entities, with whom he would converse before completing their exorcism with an authoritative command.
Although Puységur succeeded in transforming the practice of mesmerism, he was a reluctant revolutionary. He always considered himself a loyal follower of Mesmer and never intended to undermine the master’s teachings. Indeed, he visited the great man twice, accompanied by Victor Race, to share his discoveries, but Mesmer responded coldly and was obviously unimpressed, considering artificial somnambulism to be of little significance. After all, when his own patients had ‘drifted off’ he had thought nothing of it.
Artificial somnambulism proved to be an extremely useful tool for probing the human mind. Indeed, Puységur’s experiments
Learning to Kill: Stories