the  opened door of the firebox. Since I  spent all of my
time below the level of the firebox,  on the cold kitchen
floor,  I  perhaps  discovered  for  the first time what  a
force  fire  really  was.   Perhaps  also   my  father  was
annoyed with me or with my mother or my little brother
at   the   time   as  well,  but   I   don't  believe  that  that
inference is necessary. More likely, he was holding me
while  he  leaned  over  the stove to take  a peek into a
pot  of  stew  after  having  added  wood,  and  the heat
following close  on  the vision  of the roaring Hades in
the firebox frightened me.
     "What  the  dream records,  I  believe, is the moment
when I discovered my individuality. I am an object and
have a  shape  as did  the stick  of  wood, and also  like
the stick  of wood,  the world would transform  me  and
eventually   consume   me.   That   is  what   the  'almost'
means,  not that he was about to throw me  into the fire
which  would have had  to have terrify me,  but that  he
could  have  (i. e., I am a separate creature, disposable
to  be sure,  but also  independent, unique, an identity).
     "Now  I  am 37 and  the dream has come back again.
I  have  just succeeded  in separating  my  identity from
the stranglehold  of Doctor,  Professor, Member  of the
Evergreen Faculty, things which have been standing in
in for my family, as it were. I am outrageously free and
strong.  And  I can see that the dream, in a few decades,
will have one more crisis  to help me through, the final
one.  If  it  does  its  work  as  it  has  thus  far, the  final
consummation  will  be  a  final  freedom.  Truly  it  is a
marvelous thing to be a human being in this universe."

     Were  Dr. Sinclair a patient in analysis and, therefore,
by  definition primarily concerned  with discovering  the
ways  he  has  come  to  deceive  himself, we  should,  of
course,  gently  encourage  him  to  at  least  temporarily
suspend  his commitments to  what interests him  and  to
what  he believes. On the reasonable assumption  that his
interests  and   beliefs,   as   currently   experienced,  are,
likely  as  not,  subordinate  to  a  neurotically  prevailing
commitment  to self-deception. But Dr. Sinclair  is not a
patient;  he  is a  medieval scholar  who believes that  his
interest  in  dreams  may  lead  him  to a  more  profound
understanding   and   enjoyment   of  G. Chaucer's  poetry.

239