by Lida Prypchan
A malady which varies according to the subjective
symptoms of the patient; very difficult to characterize,
each case is unique with quite individual and variable symptoms.
A lady who used to like to move house every year would make friends with the neighbors – whom until then she had ignored – on the very same day that she moved. In the midst of the entire bustle she would situate herself conveniently on the ground floor and affectionately bid her goodbyes. Finally she would say, “What a shame I have to leave, the very day I find out what wonderful neighbors I have… It seems we live too close to bother to make friends… it takes a move to find out…”
Some people think that neighbors should be kept at a distance because it is in man’s nature to take advantage, so he has a tendency to poke about into other people’s affairs. Others feel that neighbors only disturb their peace and quiet with their shrill voices and loud music, as is the case with the young man living in the house behind mine. I strike up a friendship (or at least, I used to) with anyone who inspires it within me, whether they are neighbors or not (although I would prefer they were not), as long as it is reciprocated and respected, and with anyone whose behavior and way of thinking and feeling I can admire throughout our friendship. It is very easy to strike up a friendship; the difficulty is in staying interested enough to maintain it.
When the person living on the floor above is a child, we are tormented by the sounds of marbles rolling and the television on at full blast. It can be rather more eerie when it’s an adult couple living above us. Whether it’s the middle of the evening or well into the night, strange, almost spooky sounds begin to emanate, which I could swear come from the great beyond: doors with hinges in need of grease – a sound that would reverberate within the stillness of a corpse; old bed-springs creaking rhythmically up and down in paroxysms of sound that conjure up the most unimaginable scenes (impossible to describe because they are not fit for children under forty). These macabre sounds have made it impossible for me to keep my attention fully concentrated on my exciting medical studies and I feel they are one of the main reasons why my grade point average was not the best. Be that as it may, despite the inconveniences I just mentioned, I prefer lively neighbors. They inspire more confidence, or even better, less suspicion than the quiet ones, whose long silences make us wonder what the deuce they are up to.
Automobiles sometimes provoke hostility between neighbors. To take up a neighbor’s parking spot is ground for a furious declaration of all-out warfare where the wronged party, using quite vulgar language, will inform the culprit about the imminent demise of his car. The first time I was at the receiving end of one of these declaration, I thought I was being warned about my own demise (which would have done me a great favor, since I’ve always wanted to know exactly when I’m going to die), but they were actually warning me about my car’s, which, according to another of my neighbors, was even worse, but then there are some people in this world who love their car more than their own mother.
However, there are notable exceptions in the neighborhood. It may be that those living one floor up share our feelings of uneasiness and think as we do. It’s also possible that they cry over the same things that we do, or even that they cry at exactly the same times as we do. Then I wonder why we don’t get together, even if it’s only to cry. There are often great barriers between neighbors, which can only be overcome by an extraordinary motivating force at some transcendental moment. Something like this is what happened to the main characters in Limelight (1952, considered the most perfect and the most sensitive of Chaplin’s accomplishments). In this movie, a ballerina and a frustrated comedian become acquainted through the dancer’s attempted suicide. They become good friends and eventually a deep and platonic love develops between them. Having survived her attempted suicide, the ballerina maintains that she has no feeling in her legs and after medical examination is diagnosed with “conversion hysteria.” Hysteria is a malady which varies according to the subjective symptoms of the patient. It is very difficult to characterize, as each case is unique with quite individual and variable symptoms. Although in medicine there is no sickness without a sick person, it’s important to note that most pathological conditions exhibit regular symptoms. Hysteria, however, has no consistent or unique symptoms, neither are there any bounds to its intensity or stability of duration.
We know that it occurs most frequently in women over twenty-five, that it can manifest anywhere in the body, that it may be acute (a sudden crisis) or chronic(exhibiting long-lasting symptoms or attacks), is usually precipitated by some conflict and has been extensively dramatized in Latin American soap operas (in particular by Titiana Capote and Franklin Vírgüez). The crises usually consist of fainting spells, accompanied sometimes by convulsions or aggressive, even orgasmic, explosions portrayed in excessively violent or erotic scenes, or sometimes by contortions, abnormal or bizarre gesticulations or trance-like states, which in the past were interpreted as demonic possession. “Collective hysteria” has also been reported: epidemics of St. Vito’s dance, witches’ Sabbaths, and eruptions of convulsive hysteria around Mesmer’s box. To this list I would add concerts given by certain singers, political rallies (Hitler’s), assemblies of members of religious sects (the Jim Jones massacre in Guyana) and meetings of an ideological nature such as those described in George Orwell’s novel 1984.
The explanation for collective hysteria is that when people mass together in a group their disposition becomes more feminine, more sentimental, which is why they are more easily swayed and manipulated.
Areas which can be affected by prolonged symptoms of hysteria include the motor, feeling, sensory and speech areas, as well as the neuro-vegetative system. Theresa’s case of conversion hysteria affected the motor area.
In our society the two most frequently encountered forms are: 1) crises in the form of tachycardia, migraine headaches or vague pains without physical basis, or 2) prolonged attacks, as in the case of women over thirty who complain of pain in the lower abdomen even though their clinical and paraclinical examinations show as normal. These women may even undergo surgery which results in no findings, yet they continue to complain of the same pain and change doctors repeatedly. These patients spend a great deal of money on unnecessary exploratory surgery and are prone to improve temporarily under the influence of a sympathetic doctor.
Chaplin’s character (Mr. Calvero) in Limelight found a most effective solution to Theresa’s motor disorder. A few minutes before her stage appearance as ballerina, Theresa said, “I’ve lost the feeling in my legs. I don’t think I can go out there.” In his distress, not knowing what else to do, Mr. Calvero gave her such a hard slap that so disconcerted her that she stopped her foolishness, went out on stage and immediately began dancing. It often happens that those least familiar with the subject hit upon the appropriate treatment. Such was the case with Mr. Calvero, who at that moment turned out to be the best psychiatrist Theresa could possibly have had.
No comments:
Post a Comment