revealed phenomena that could only be explained if the standard Enlightenment model – with its emphasis on rationality and transparency – was substantially revised. Kor example, the fact that patients could not remember what had happened to them while entranced suggested that the mind could keep secrets from itself. Clearly, Puységur’s patients could not have forgotten events that had transpired only a few moments earlier. This suggested that memories of being in the trance (and associated experiences) were present in the mind, but inaccessible. Puységur went on to demonstrate the mind’s capacity for self-deception even more dramatically by experimenting with what is now known as
post-hypnotic suggestion.
If an entranced individual is given a command to perform a simple behaviour (for example, ‘Scratch your nose whenever you hear the word “dog”‘), the command will continue to be obeyed even after waking. Such an individual will have no recollection of being given the command and will probably confabulate if asked to explain why the behaviour is being performed. Puységur had succeeded in hiding a set of instructions in the mind, thus demonstrating that there was a part of the mind which – although not available for conscious inspection – could nevertheless still influence behaviour.
A further intriguing observation of Puységur’s was that some of his patients seemed to be more knowledgeable when ‘asleep’ than when ‘awake’. For example, several individuals were able to diagnose their own problems and recommend treatments. This begged certain questions. Was artificial somnambulism allowing patients to recover information that had simply been forgotten? Or was there some vast, submerged library in the mind that could be consulted during sleep? Needless to say, the early romantic philosophers became particularly interested in Puységur’s work, being inclined to believe that his patients were obtaining information from the world soul -the universal unconscious. Artificial somnambulism was quickly perceived as a possible short cut to the numinous.
Puységur also discovered that the mind was capable of not only concealing information from itself, but also concealing (or at least denying) powerful sensory experiences. Patients were told that they would not feel pain in certain areas of the body, which could then be pricked with pins and probed with heated objects without causing any discomfort. If the sensory apparatus was still functioning, then those parts of the mind allocated for the registration of pain were being shut off. A door was being closed on pain, thus keeping it outside of awareness.
Unfortunately, Puységur’s investigations were interrupted by the revolution of 1789, and he spent two years in prison; however, when he was released he was able to recover his estate and go on to become the mayor of Soissons. He also continued to investigate artificial somnambulism. By the time of his death in 1835, almost all ‘mesmerists’ employed his procedures rather than those of Mesmer.
But there can be few individuals to whom the gods of posterity have been less generous than Puységur. In the early years of the nineteenth century ‘mesmerism’ (so called) continued to be endorsed by fringe medical practitioners (and a growing band of travelling entertainers); however, within a very short space of time the name of Amand-Marie-Jacques de Chastenet, Marquis de Puységur, sunk into total obscurity. Yet he had developed a method of exploring the mind which would prove to be of incalculable significance for future students of the unconscious.
From its inception to the 1840s mesmerism was never endorsed as a legitimate treatment by the medical establishment. Even Puységur’s more credible methods were still regarded with considerable suspicion; however, from the 1840s mesmerism began to attract the attention of several British doctors, whose scientific credentials granted it a degree of