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Journal of Analytical Psychology, 2005, 50, 4558

1. On note taking
Alfred B. J. Plaut, Berlin Editor from 1971 to 1977
Abstract: In this paper the author explores the theoretical and technical issues relating to taking notes of analytic sessions, using an introspective approach. The paper discusses the lack of a consistent approach to note taking amongst analysts and sets out to demonstrate that systematic note taking can be helpful to the analyst. The author describes his discovery that an initial phase where as much data was recorded as possible did not prove to be reliably helpful in clinical work and initially actively interfered with recall in subsequent sessions. The impact of the nature of the analytic session itself and the focus of the analysts interest on recall is discussed. The author then describes how he modified his note taking technique to classify information from sessions into four categories which enabled the analyst to select which information to record in notes. The characteristics of memory and its constructive nature are discussed in relation to the problems that arise in making accurate notes of analytic sessions. Key words: accuracy, classifying information, confidentiality, memory, recording data, Rickman, Toni Wolff.

Introduction John Rickman, one of the pioneers of psychoanalysis in Britain, used to say that much that is valuable in psychoanalysis is handed on not in learned papers but by verbal tradition. In what follows I am going to take a closer look at this statement. But first let me tell you why I chose the subject of note taking to present for your consideration. I shall use the first person singular a great deal for two reasons, firstly that practically nothing appears in the literature beyond references to the undesirability of taking notes during the session. Freuds 1912 paper regarding the optimum free-floating attention is usually mentioned on such occasions. I have it on good authority that psychoanalysts are not permitted as part of their training in this country to take notes during sessions. There are, however, some anecdotes and jokes and caricatures in the popular press which show the patient lying on the couch. I knew of only one analytical psychologist who constantly made notes throughout the session in
00218774/2005/5001/45 2005, The Society of Analytical Psychology

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full view of his sitting patient. So it seemed to me that the question had not been universally settled in accordance with Freuds injunction, which, as you know, was based on the idea that the communication between the unconscious of the analysand and that of the analyst was of fundamental importance and not to be interfered with by taking notes during sessions. When I read my first paper to this group in 1952 I called it Practical problems of analysis, and in it the furniture of the consulting room figures prominently mainly the two Jungian chairs, but also the clock. Recently another piece of furniture has come into prominence and the last symposium (January 1967), like the present paper, can be viewed as a job-analysis of our daily work. My second reason is of a more personal nature: I had for a long time been dissatisfied with my method of note taking which consisted in the main of scribbling some apparently highly important words behind the patients name in my diarywords which became either illegible or unintelligible to me within a short time. This unsystematic method of note taking had not been the only way in which I tried to keep track of what happened in my work, butwith the exception of diagnostic sessions of which I kept much better notesit represented the main way in which I struggled along for 15 years. To this second reason I have to add that the method on which this preliminary communication is based is that of introspection. Whether my findings have any validity or not will depend on the extent to which they can be borne out by other analysts and also whether they are in keeping with some findings of experimental psychology as well as our own dynamic concepts. (I shall do so with trepidation because I know that some analysts know so much more about it than I do, whilst others think that experimental psychology cannot be relevant to dynamic psychology.) More about this later. For the moment I want to remind you that introspection enters into many so-called objective experiments, for instance those carried out in the field of perception. I am thinking, for instance, of visual illusions and of the changes which are seen by the subjects in so-called ambiguous figures. These are based entirely on reported self-observations, but the reason why we give them the status of objective findings is that the observations made are widely shared, and it is naturally my hope that some of my observations have been or will be supported by others and that the conclusions may be of interest. The details of the method will become more apparent as I go along, but can be outlined here in a general way. When I found that I would be doing more analysis and less of the National Health Service work which allowed me the use of a secretary to whom I could dictate notes, I decided that I would invest the extra earnings on the use of a secretary who would transcribe notes from a dictating machine for my private work. My aim was to take notes during the ten-minute intervals between sessions on all and every occasion. It soon became obvious that if one did this conscientiously for fifty sessions per week and for 42 weeks per year one would at the end of this period have well over 2,000 entries and a formidable amount of typewritten paper. Whether anything else would be gained by this effort would depend on ones motives and aims,

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i.e. on the kind of questions one tried to find an answer to. I only found the questions as I went along. Strictly speaking, therefore, what follows is not an experiment, only an exploration. Also, I am well aware of other methods of note taking, e.g. the collecting of dreams and images, products of the unconscious. Some analytical psychologists ask their analysands to type out their dreams and associations as well as fantasies in duplicate, one copy for the analyst and one for the patient. The analyst can then amplify the material further and also fill in the personal data of the patient and add progress of symptoms and other landmarks of the patients life while under analysis. However, the emphasis in this kind of analysis is, to my mind, on the didactic or educative aspect, and when I sampled this with Toni Wolff for a short time in Zrich I got a bill which was quite properly made out for X number of lessons in analytical psychology. This view of analysis and the kind of note taking which corresponds to it is different from the analysis which concerns me here, in which the transactions between analyst and patient during the sessions are of central importance. You may imagine that to dictate all the notes and to read through the transcriptions again is something of a labour, and you may be relieved to hear at the outset that my tentative conclusions do not suggest that hard working analysts must so burden themselves. For I am far from being able to show that by keeping notes ones analytical results become better. On the other hand I hope to show that systematic note taking can be rewarding and therefore provide some extra libido for the work. A practical reason for investigating the method and value of notes stemmed from my experience as supervisor. Although trainees vary in their capacity to report on their work, all of them quite properly take notes, but in a single supervisory session these notes may or may not be used, and the way this is done has often made me aware of my uncertainty in recommending a method of note taking and using. I feel that I am in a slightly better position now. To come back to Rickmans remark about the verbal tradition. I have looked upon the tendency in our and other societies and between members of our society and of other societies to meet in discussion groups as an experience of a need to fill a gap: the gap between our theoretical desiderata and the fact that we are very imperfect instruments for implementing our theories. If one reads clinical papers or theoretical statements using case illustrations, this gap is made invisible by the writers need to make his point in a clear and decisive way, a perfectly legitimate and honest purpose. Nevertheless the motive of making a case against opposing views may well constitute a final selection system in the presentation of data. In any case, we know from experimental studies how even without specific motivation the original event can change with successive reproductions. There is also frequently anxiety about being criticized as falling short of what theory and technique require, and this anxiety is lessened in the relatively friendly and reassuring setting of groups in which people are prepared to let down their hair orif that should

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be difficultto reveal how in practice they fall short of the standards they have set themselves. In addition to lessening anxiety the verbal tradition (as I have interpreted it here) could in turn influence technique and theory. To give an example, in the papers one reads the method by which the data have been collected is rarely if ever mentioned beyond the fact that they are based on notes. When the notes were made, e.g. immediately after each session, or from memory or written scraps made at some time or other, or just during the writing of the paper is, with a few notable exceptions, not mentioned. Psychoanalysis told us earlier and with more certitude why we forget than how and what we remember, and it may not come amiss to consider how our memories concerning analytical sessions function. Some general observations and a provisional classification When I first started the scheme my method was to take notes on each session during the ten-minute interval following the session by means of dictating notes to a secretary when present, and by handwritten notes when she was not, from which I would then dictate in due course. The aim was to get the ideas which would occupy me most in relation to each patient and to my theoretical focus into a reasonably tidy shape. I knew from the outset that I wanted a dictating machine, which would be completely portable and handy, and after three months of dictating to a secretary I found what I wanted. The snags consisted of two kinds, external and internal. Among the external ones was the finding of a suitable secretary, which with this kind of work is not so easy, and I found that what I dictated to her was to some extent censored by what I could entrust her with. (It also happened on two occasions that a secretary knew of the patients socially and there was no alternative but to give those notes dictated on a different tape to another secretary to type.) It took me longer than anticipated before I felt completely at ease with the microphone, saying things just as they came into my mind, and it would have taken even longer if I had not weaned myself of the method to which I had been accustomedthat of scribbling things down. The great advantage of the dictating machine over my former method was of course that I could get far more out in a shorter time than by writing. Learning involved a considerable effort and perseverance and this had a very bad, but interesting, effect on the note taking. However, once I had overcome the initial inhibitions I found that I could talk considerably more freely than I had ever been able to write. We learn to talk before we learn to write and one could contend that talking under these conditions is nearer to a primary process activity than writing. Coming now to the internal snags, let me first tell you that the enterprise made me relapse into one of the beginners mistakes, i.e., of making mental notes during the sessions, thus interfering with my attention. At this point I had to choose between giving up altogether and becoming less stringent in my method. I continued, leaving the occasional session unrecorded, and

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remained mindful that driving by looking into the rear mirror (looking up the notes of the previous session before todays) was as dangerous as keeping ones eyes on the distant point of the road (thinking of how I would record at the end of the session what was happening right now under ones nose.) But, in addition to the danger of interfering with attention, the experiment in note taking had a bad effect on my memory, and this was mainly to begin with, when the effort I put into the reproduction of what went on during a session seemed to interfere with my recall when the patient next turned up. Only when I had had sufficient practice to record so automatically and effortlessly that had it not been for seeing the patients name on the recording pad I could not have said whether or not I had dictated the notes. Once this had been achieved, my memory of the previous session or sessions during that day became as good as it had been before the experiment. During the intervening period of bad memory I had of course my notes to fall back on. Although the typed notes brought the events recorded back to some extent, they lacked the freshness and impact of the short-term memory which I had previously been able to retain. The events came back as if they were anecdotes instead of living things. Now every analyst knowsor this at least is my impression from various discussionsthat in the presence of the patient one can recall many more details than in his absence. The associations, which one forms in ones mind with the help of ones frame of reference, play such an essential role and are so interwoven with the characteristics of the patient that one can rely on these to bring back details to such an extent that patients, especially new ones, try to flatter us by remarks like: What a wonderful memory you have. You dont seem to write anything down. Its a wonder you dont get your wires crossed. (Actually it is possible to get ones wires crossed and very embarrassing it is. I noticed that on the rare occasions this happened to me it was either due to countertransference of wanting to please the patient or due to my being overenthusiastic about a point of theory which, say, the dreams of two different patients seemed to support, the result being that I no longer knew whether the details of, say, a dream belonged to the one or the other patient.) Now it is also widely known that under the conditions of discussion in small groups such as I mentioned at the outset, it is possible to bring a patient gradually to life in ones recollection almost as well as if the patient were present. Why then was it that recording under pressure, with deliberate effort, should have had the effect of erasing sessions from memory? I thought of the effect of recording ones own dream by writing it down, which for a short time, at any rate, allowed one to retain it, and of telling ones dream to someone which resulted in retaining the dream much better. Despite the obvious difference between ones dreams and the content of a session in which one is the analyst there seemed to me also an obvious similarity in the kind of attention required for getting into contact with unconscious material, albeit ones patients. Perhaps here lay the beginning of an answer: what was frequently required during sessionsespecially the difficult, challenging ones, was a piece of self-analysis (such as Money-Kyrle [1956]

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described in his relevant paper Normal counter-transference and some of its deviations, The Collected Papers of Roger Money-Kyrle, pp. 33042) in order to sort oneself out from a particular bit of similarity with the patient. So far I agree with Money Kyrle, and I only have small additions to make to his observations. He states that during a normal or ideal session this discriminatory work is done quickly. I think that this work, i.e., the silent self-analysis, whether done quickly or painfully slowly, is easily re-repressed. It is certainly very difficult to remember after the session, and the temptation is great to project the bit of self-awareness gained back into a patient who has apparently not responded to the subsequent interpretations and to make notes accordingly. Notes then serve the unintentional purpose of getting rid of the patient in oneself, particularly if that patient has left ones need to make reparations unsatisfied. The notes on such a session could be compared to a temporarily successful bit of expulsionsmall wonder the amnesia should cover it up, as guilt is troublesome. (In this respect the writing down of a dream and even more so the telling of it to a sympathetic listener is a very different matter, and therefore the rehearsal effect can work in the usual beneficial way so far as memory is concerned.) A session with which one is particularly pleased is much better remembered despite ones notes except for the bits which do not fit in, and on a few occasions I was fortunate enough to have my memory of those awkward bits re-awakened by the patient, and could then pay particular attention to these and include them in the next lot of interpretations and notes. It probably goes without saying that the dramatic sessions are more easily recorded as well as remembered than those which go under the name of working through. If I have made no notes for several sessions or if the notes are getting very sparse it nearly always means that I have introjected the patient and am trying to forget my guilt about a stuck analysis. The regressed type of session seems to pass peculiarly quickly despite the fact that few words and actions may have been exchanged. The very quality of such sessions in which there is a certain meeting with the patient is difficult to transcribe into appropriate language, and the strain of translation is a point to which I shall return. For the moment I want to record that I was still not satisfied with the explanations I could find for the more rapid disappearance from memory as a general result of routine instant recording. (I therefore started a correspondence with Professor Broadbent, of the M.R.C. Unit, on applied psychology at Cambridge, to discover how far experimental psychology had got with comparable phenomena.) Let me tell you about one other non-specific observation. There was often a reluctance to take notes by recording immediately after the session. This was the case especially before the lunch break, after the last session in the evening, and more so before the weekend, before going on holiday and on return from holiday. Further, I had to struggle with my reluctance to read through the typed manuscripts. My first intention had been to read through these in order to see whether the secretary had received the dictation properly. This soon

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proved unnecessary although I was often disappointed with the result of my outpourings. In order to improve on the latter I began to include a rough classification of notes into my dictation, of which the first two categories are: (1) Diagnostic (patient seen for the first time or consultation) and (2) Follow-up. (1) In the first I try to be as detailed as possible, not knowing whether or when I shall see the patient again, and try to be less selective than at other times. The observation I made in these cases is that ten minutes is usually insufficient for dictation, and detailssometimes the ones which were dynamically the most significantcontinue to obtrude into the following analytical sessions with considerable strength. I began to use a number of P.S.s which were dictated and typed as such, and also used these for routine analytical sessions as the content of these afterthoughts often proved of particular interest. (2) Follow-up notes need, I think, no further explanation. They applied to patients I had seen before either as diagnostic cases or in analysis. They are of course important in the assessment of ones work, but what interested me in particular was the amount of foreshortening or condensation of memory which takes place in the analysts mind both in cases one saw some time ago as well as in long analyses which are still under way: it is always later (i.e., longer ago) than you think. Turning to the more routine analytical sessions, I try to distinguish between four classes of notes which I call: (3) (4) (5) (6) Tracking or ordinary Countertransference Summarizing Technical

Let me explain. The tracking notes are those which I make without a specific conscious determined purpose whenever I feel that it is particularly necessary for me to keep track of what is going on. The following are the most common reasons for this kind of note: 3. Tracking notes consist of five sub-groups: (a) The unfolding phase of analysis. I know that these notes may be invaluable later on. I think that I can see the outline, but also know that it is impossible to see the significance of all the details. (Rickman said: If only the analyst could understand everything that happens in the first session. But that is impossible!) (b) A crisis in analysis. The possibilities are too numerous to mention but always cause the analyst some extra concern and anxiety including fear of not having any notes should there be some legal proceedings.

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(c) Observations on the patients behaviour in the analysts house, but outside the consulting room. These include the uses to which the waiting room is put, e.g. one patient used to arrive 12 hours early quite regularly in order to do her homework, another in order to catch up on sleep. Also the use of the lavatory before, during and after the session (sometimes all three). (d) The ending phase of an analysis. Just as important as the unfolding part but rarely written up in papers, I suspect because it is often disappointing to the analyst who always hopes for better resultsthis is probably due to the introjected part of the patient. (e) All the bits I cannot understand now but hope to understand later. 4. The only bit of countertransference observations which may not be obvious and which I often try to remember to make notes about or a mental note of are my general set before the patient comes into the room. It is extraordinarily difficult to remember after a session whether one forgot before the session started who was due to arrive, and whether one had a feeling of pleasurable anticipation, dread or boredom. (The time of the day or week (see above) matters to some extent.) I have not yet been able to compare and note the set or countertransference disposition before the session with the course of the session and my feeling afterwards, but hope to be able to do so, at least occasionally. 5. Summarizing notes: These are the notes I make when I know what is going on but have not made notes for some time, or notes which group several sessions together. Sometimes the summary consists of a particularly significant dream or a quotation. As I become more confident during the middle phase of an analysis I use less of the tracking and more of the summarizing type of note. Its by means of the tracking note that I learned the method of recording, but when the machine went out of order for a few days I had to use more summarizing notesputting a series togetherand found it satisfactory. 6. The object of Technical notes is to show me where my special focus of theoretical interest is at the moment. These notes may end in a question mark. Nevertheless I feel it will be important in retrospect to know about my movements. Patients tend to regard their analysts as fixed stars, but although they move apparently much more slowly than their planets do, analysts nevertheless dont stand still. Some theoretical considerations In the introduction I said something about memory in relation to note taking and experimental psychology and in the second part I referred to the fact that I was not altogether happy with the countertransference as an explanation of

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the phenomenon I had observed, namely that generally speaking I could not recall the content of a given session on which I had recorded with effort, as well as I had done before the present experiment. Although I agree with Money Kyrle that the interplay between introjection and projection of the patient by the analyst makes up the analytical process, this seemed to me an inadequate explanation for forgetting after every session. I therefore consulted Professor Broadbent and also read a little of the recent experimental work on attention and memory. The other matter of more than theoretical interest concerns the variable state of the analysts ego during a working day, and the factors other than specific countertransference which influence this state, i.e., the form he is in. Let me therefore say that the imperfections of the instrument to which I referred earlier on cannot all be eradicated by even the best and longest training or postgraduate analysis, yet their nature requires not only recognition but also a frame of reference for understanding! Freuds optimum free-floating attention cannot be a constant and equally reliable thing even for a relatively healthy ego. It is in fact impossible to maintain the optimum for ten or more hours a day, and the assumption that we can maintain the same amount of attention in the way that our heat regulating mechanism can maintain a fairly steady body temperature is unwarranted. There is not only the diurnal variation in our state of arousal, but also the sum total of all projective identifications from his patients and his own countertransferences, and further the inroads made into the total available energy for work by crises in his patients and in his personal life which will affect his attention. The constant need to limit his emotional reaction to the needs of the patient, translating primary process into secondary process activity and yet to participate in regression, make its influence felt as the day and the week goes by. The recognition of these effects on the state of the analysts ego certainly belongs to a jobanalysis. All these factors together would seem to make up some mitigating circumstances why overworked analysts are not always pleasant company for their nearest and dearest. I think it would be a rash assumption to make that the kind of attention (the selection of signals of which we take note) an analyst requires is necessarily the same as that of the subject whose attention is being tested in a psychological laboratory. But the kind of ego-function related to Hartmans concept of a conflict-free zone of the ego is meant to show distractibility from internal and external sources. This seems to me sufficiently similar to make at least one experiment (Broadbent & Gregory 1963) of interest to us: as time passed during an experiment in which the attention of subjects was distracted, the subjects did not miss the signals, but got to believe what they heard and saw. It would seem to follow that at times when we function below our optimum, the more stimulating kind of patient would get the better deal from us. I have only mentioned the problem of vigilance and changes in arousal, but recognize that there are other aspects of attention such as changes in

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motivation and level of expectancy which have been subject to experiments and may well repay our taking note of. Returning then to memory, let me recall what William James wrote on this subject over 70 years ago, Selection is the very keel on which our mental ship is built. Since then many experiments have been made which not only confirm this statement but also show in detail how selection functions at various levels of attention and memory. Bartletts experiments of the twenties still hold much of interest to dynamic psychology. In his book, Remembering, he marvels that accuracy of recall should still be used as a criterion of memory. In fact our memories do no more function like a recording machine than our visual perception functions like a camera. In one of his experiments Bartlett uses the method of repeated reproductions at various time intervals of a given story by a number of educated, intelligent people. The longest time interval was 61/2 years after hearing the original story, and what the person remembered was in Bartletts words: A brilliant example of obvious constructive remembering. The subject was very pleased and satisfied with the result of his effort, and indeed, considering the length of the interval involved, his is remarkably accurate and detailed. Bartlett goes on to show how the subject was most pleased and certain of his memory where it consisted of pure invention! This narcissistic pleasure with memoryand the particular emphasis on visual memory and imagesruns through several of the accounts which are part of Bartletts experiment, and I have observed the same in others and myself who pride ourselves on our memory. Omission of detail, simplification of events and structure, transformation of details into more familiar detail and rationalization are among the features one would expect, and with long distance remembering there is much invention and inference. Detail is outstanding when it fits in with preformed interests and tendencies. In some cases the influence of affective attitudes may be intensified with the lapse of time. In all successive remembering, the reduction of material to a form that can be readily and satisfactorily dealt with is very prominent. As one would expect, with frequent repetition of the description the story would become stereotyped in style. (Admittedly there is one exception reported in the case of a genius, but that need not bother us here.) There are two particular reasons why Bartletts experiment is of interest to us. First, Bartletts primary concern is not with what is remembered, but with the mode and circumstances of remembering, i.e. the functional approach. Secondly, the particular story given to his subject for the test is a North American Indian folk tale. It is what he calls inconsequential. The title is The War of Ghosts. By inconsequential he means that it is not built up in a logical kind of way like an everyday event reported in the Press. In fact one subject said, this is not an English story, another commented that it was like a dream. No wonder then that many of the observations Bartlett made sound like what we know as secondary elaborations in the case of dreams. What would in fact be needed to remember the story more

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accurately than most of the subjects did would be a frame of reference or index based on anthropological knowledge and the way the mind of the story teller works, plus a knowledge of the way ones own psychological, cultural and social bias is liable to make additional alterations and to omit what is not meaningful to ourselves. My contention is that it is impossible to retain all these items which make up ones index or selective system to a given analytical session (which I am here comparing with the suitably entitled War of Ghosts) for long, and that it is therefore important for the assessment of any case description which is reported in a paper to know when it was recorded and also whether it was recorded in order to present to an audience. I have little fear of contradiction when I say that such a purpose may constitute the final selective filter through which the data have to pass. The first filter would be the selective attention determined by ones countertransference set (see above) before the patient even enters the room (varying from boredom or excitement to anxiety or relief) which is so difficult to incorporate in ones notes after the session. The analysts memory of the content of a session is quite a different matter when it serves the need of linking, e.g., the material and transactions of today, and todays sessions with yesterdays or of the last few weeks: What matters is not whether the analysts memory or that of the patient is the more accurate no analyst would of course try to argue the toss, but look for resistances insteadbut whether sooner or later a meeting point between what each of them remembers about the materials elaborations takes place, whether their index or frame of reference can become essentially the same. This is particularly important for the summarizing notes and during the final phase of analysis. For the recording of what I have just called a meeting point, immediate dictation seems to me essential. According to the classification I gave earlier such notes may be regarded as being partly crisisand partly technical notes. Here one has to rely very much on what experimental psychologists are calling short-term memory. Briefly speaking, experiments show that unattended messages out of a number of signals which arrive at once can be stored for a short time and attended to later. They are in a buffer-storage, as it were, of raw data awaiting recognition. I have found that by dictating my notes without pressure (usually with my eyes shut) immediately after the session, such briefly stored data came back during the process of speaking much more easily than by writing (which I had previously been doing). The words or actions are still reverberating and one can often catch them. If I am not mistaken these were the same kind of data whichas I remarked earlierwould sometimes obtrude later during the day if I had been unable to record with sufficiently attentive leisure earlier on. The data then have a tendency to come and go in an irritating way because one would like to catch them. Psychologists suggest that this short-term memory is quite different from the storage of long-term memory (with which Bartletts experiments were mainly concerned) and that

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the latter involves a structural change in the nervous system. However this may be, one psychologist (OConnor) uses the following analogy of short-term memory which coincides with my impression. He likens it to the ripples in a pond following the throwing of a stone. This phenomenon, he goes on to say, could be compared with long-term memory by imagining that by a very sudden cold snap the ripples become frozen solid. This by then relatively permanent state of mind could readily be drawn on in future thought processes. Bartletts experiments have given us an indication in what ways the thought processes can get to work on these memories. Now it is precisely the notes which I tried to keep on those tenuous shortterm memories of sessions which interfered, especially at the beginning of the exploration, so definitely with my memory. One suggestion that Professor Broadbent made was that retrieval from short-term memory may interfere with the process of consolidation, and this is supported by an experiment which shows that heightened general level of arousal or activation (words presented during outbursts of noise) actually favour consolidation into long-term memory, i.e., are better remembered after an interval than immediately after the experiment. Therefore the converse may also hold in the way that I suggest, namely that immediate recall may interfere with consolidation. It certainly was of interest to me that as a result of a crisis following a session I was able to recall more details of the preceding session than were contained in my notes. We can with hindsight retrieve memories because of the significance which a subsequent situation has helped us to see. This is of course the principle on which transference analysis is based, but it is interesting that it also holds good when we are in the analysts chair and take notes. I now come back to the frozen ripples on the pond analogy of long-termmemory. I want to add the suggestion that the ripples can be unfrozen. Conditions of high arousal of emotions such as a crisis or a lively discussion in a friendly group may provide the stimulus for a warm spell. As regards experimental psychology you will have noticed that I think the time for a warming up of relations is overdue and that we could mutually benefit from it. Broadbent said that he put some suggestion of mine on his list of experiments to be done when opportunity offers, and I found the same phrase in the book of his predecessor, C. Bartlett (my old professor, as Broadbent affectionately called him). For this kind of imitation, dynamic psychology can offer an explanation, thus illustrating the mutual benefit which I have in mind. In lieu of a summary let me conclude that I found note taking a subject worth studying and that despite its definite snags I have found it helpful in keeping the various aspects of ones personal life and theoretical interest and the interest of ones patients together. It also helps in thinking about ones work and in accumulating a fund of material on the basis of which future papers could be written when opportunity offers, or sooner.

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Aims and prospect 1. To develop a system of shorthand and classification of notes. 2. To curtail the length of some analysis by keeping an eye on the possibly excessive introjection of the patient by the analyst and their combined repetition compulsion. 3. To watch the creative aspect of the analytical process into which the patient has to develop sufficient trust, i.e., that it will continue after analysis. 4. To throw light on memory processes in the analytical setting.

TRANSLATIONS OF ABSTRACT
Lauteur explore les enjeux thoriques et techniques relatifs la prise de notes des sances analytiques, en utilisant une approche dintrospection. Larticle interroge labsence dune approche cohrente de la prise de notes parmi les analystes, et cherche montrer quune prise de notes systmatique peut tre utile lanalyste. Lauteur dcrit que dans une premire phase il notait autant de donnes que possible, et il a dcouvert que cela ne savrait pas utile pour le travail clinique, et avait mme interfr activement dans le processus du souvenir dans les sances suivantes. Limpact de la nature de la sance analytique elle-mme et lintrt de lanalyste pour ce dont il se souvient sont discuts. Lauteur dcrit ensuite comment il a modifi sa technique de prise de notes en classifiant les informations sur les sances en quatre catgories permettant lanalyste de slectionner quelle information mettre dans ses notes. Les caractristiques de la mmoire et la constructivit de celle-ci sont discuts et mis en relation avec les problmes gnrs par une prise de notes prcises des sances analytiques.

In diesem Aufsatz untersucht der Autor die theoretischen und technischen Gesichtspunkte, die sich auf das Protokollieren von analytischen Sitzungen beziehen, und er verwendet dabei einen introspektiven Ansatz. Er diskutiert den Mangel an einheitlicher Herangehensweise unter Analytikern beim Protokollieren und versucht zu zeigen, dass ein systematisches Protokollieren hilfreich fr den Analytiker/die Analytikerin sein kann. Der Autor beschreibt folgende Entdeckung: Wenn zu Behandlungsbeginn soviel Daten wie mglich aufgezeichnet wurden, stellte sich das in der klinischen Arbeit nicht als zuverlssig hilfreich heraus, sondern strte offensichtlich die Erinnerungen in den folgenden Sitzungen. Die Wirkung der Natur der analytischen Sitzung selbst und der Focus des Interesses des Analytikers an seinen Erinnerungen wird diskutiert. Der Autor erklrt dann, wie er die Technik seines Notizenmachens verndert hat, um die Informationen aus den Sitzungen in vier Kategorien zu klassifizieren, was ihm ermglichte, auszuwhlen, welche Informationen er aufschreiben wollte. Die Charakteristika des Gedchtnisses und seine konstruktive Natur werden diskutiert in Bezug auf die Probleme, die entstehen, wenn man genaue Aufzeichnungen der analytischen Sitzungen machen will.

In questo lavoro lautore, usando un metodo introspettivo, esamina i problemi teorici e tecnici relativi al prendere appunti delle sedute analitiche. Il lavoro discute la mancanza

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Alfred B. J. Plaut

tra gli analisti di un atteggiamento costante nel prendere appunti e parte con lidea di dimostrare che un prendere appunti sistematico pu essere di aiuto allanalista. Lautore racconta di aver scoperto che una fase iniziale dove venivano registrati pi dati possibili non aveva provato di essere effettivamente di aiuto nel lavoro clinico e che agli inizi interferiva attivamente nelle sedute successive con la capacit di riportare alla mente. Vengono discussi limpatto con la natura stessa della seduta analitica e il fuoco dellinteresse dellanalista sul riportare alla memoria. Lautore descrive poi in che modo egli abbia modificato la sua tecnica nel prendere appunti cos da classificare linformazione proveniente dalle sedute in quattro categorie che rendevano lanalista capace di selezionare di quali informazioni prendere appunti. In relazione ai problemi che sorgono nel prendere accurati appunti delle sedute analitiche vengono esaminate le caratteristiche della memoria e la sua natura costruttiva.

En este trabajo el autor explora los fundamentos tericos y tcnicos en relacin a tomar notas de las sesiones analticas, por medio del uso de una aproximacin introspectiva. El trabajo discute la falta de una aproximacin consistente en relacin a la toma de notas y trata de establecer como esta toma sistemtica de notas puede ser de ayuda al analista. El autor describe su descubrimiento de cmo en las fases iniciales donde se ha recopilado tanta data como fue posible no se demostr que fuese de utilidad confiable en el trabajo clnico y inicialmente podra interferir al recordarlas en sesiones subsecuentes. Se discute el impacto de la sesin analtica en si misma y la focalizacin del inters del analista en el recordarlas. El autor describe entonces como el modific su tcnica de toma de notas en una clasificacin de la informacin de las sesiones en cuatro categoras que permiten al analista clasificar que informacin podra ser necesaria de anotar. Se discute las caractersticas de la memoria y su naturaleza constructiva en relacin a los problemas que surgen de la adecuada toma de notas durante las sesiones.

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