Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 141 Freud: He's been sexually repressed since childhood! (Seeking monthly votes)
The train from Vienna to Paris travels through the twilight at the foot of the Alps, the luxurious compartments filled with the smoke of cigars and the smell of leather.

Professor Theodore Menat, with his gray hair and serious face, was carefully reviewing a stack of case briefings on Édouard-Benoît de Villeneuve and excerpts from "The Decadent City" under the dim light.

Sitting next to him was a young student who was equally focused, constantly taking the materials the professor had finished reading and then reading them eagerly, his eyes filled with a thirst for knowledge.

After a long pause, Professor Minert put down the file and commented in heavily accented Austrian German: "Interesting, very interesting, Freud. This conman possesses superb deception skills and a remarkably accurate grasp of human weaknesses."

As for his literary works… let's just call them a kind of venting of morbid imagination.

Freud nodded: "Edward Benoît not only chose to exploit women's emotions as a means of making money through fraud, but he also had a penchant for depicting erotic scenes in his novels..."

This shows that he was in a state of 'sexual repression' from a young age!

Professor Minert frowned. His student was good in every way, except that he was too enthusiastic about those abstruse psychological theories, rather than studying mental illness from a rigorous anatomical and pathological perspective.

However, this was an unacceptable outlier in orthodox psychiatric research, and he didn't want to be laughed at by Jean-Martin Chaco in Paris.

He cautioned, “The church’s accusation that he was ‘possessed by the devil’ is actually a typical case that mixes crime, hysteria, and religious delusions.”

The day after tomorrow, all of Paris will be watching how we diagnose him, so you must be careful with your words and not give anyone a handle to use against you.”

Freud nodded and was about to speak when there was a knock on the door of the private room.

Before Professor Minnart could respond, a tall, blonde, blue-eyed woman opened the door, walked in with an imposing air, and sat down opposite the two men.

Then, several tall women followed her in and stood behind her.

Floyd stood protectively in front of his teacher.

The woman, unperturbed, introduced herself: "Professor Minat? Please forgive my intrusion. I am Sofia Ivanovna Durova-Sherbatova, daughter of Baroness Alexievna."

She spoke in German, her voice deliberately soft and urgent.

"Baroness Alexievna" was a name that appeared in the dossier, and Professor Minat and Freud breathed a slight sigh of relief.

Sophia's voice trembled slightly: "I beg you, give me a few minutes, it concerns the survival of my family's honor!"

Although Professor Minard was quite displeased at being interrupted, he nodded slightly, indicating that she could continue.

Sofia took a deep breath and quickened her pace: "Professor, I know you went to Paris to conduct a psychiatric evaluation for that fraudster Villeneuve."

I implore you, in your professional report, under any circumstances, to diagnose him as a severely mentally ill patient!
A complete madman! The more serious the better...any diagnosis will do!

As she spoke, she took a pre-prepared bank draft from her expensive handbag and gently pushed it onto the small table in front of Professor Minnard.

The figure above is enough to make anyone gasp – 5 francs.

Sophia's voice was seductive: "This is just a small token of my gratitude for your professional dedication, Professor. As long as you provide the diagnosis we need, this is only the beginning."

The Durova-Sherbatova family has extensive connections and resources in Vienna, St. Petersburg, and throughout Europe.

The University of Vienna? That's too small! We can build your own research institute, providing unimaginable funding to make you the undisputed leader in European psychiatry!
Your achievements will surpass…

Professor Minat coldly interrupted her tempting promise: "Miss, you seem to have misunderstood two things..."

His voice wasn't loud, but it was like cold metal scraping against glass, making Sophia's heart clench.

Professor Minert stood up, looking down at me: "First, I, Theodore Minert, am a doctor, a scientist, not a litigious man or a court jester who can be bought. My diagnoses are based solely on observation, examination, and medical knowledge, on my reason and learning, not on anyone's wallet or the title before their surname."

Sophia's face turned deathly pale. She was about to say something, but Professor Minat's solemn tone silenced her: "Secondly, you are here right now, attempting to bribe a scholar to fabricate scientific conclusions..."

This behavior itself has stained the 'reputation' that you and your family claim to be protecting with an indelible stain.

Professor Minert picked up the promissory note and, as if brushing off a speck of dust, contemptuously pushed it back to Sophia: "Now, please leave my box, madam."

Don't pollute the air here. Freud, see this lady off for me.

Professor Minert sat back down and picked up Villeneuve's file again, as if nothing had happened.

Sofia's face turned deathly pale instantly, and she trembled slightly with humiliation and anger.

She stared intently at Professor Minort's indifferent profile, her grey-blue eyes seeming to spit fire. Finally, she bent down abruptly, picked up the promissory note, and without a word, turned and left the box.

The tall maids also hurriedly followed their master and fled the place.

Freud didn't even have time to "see him off." He could only get up, silently close the door of the private room, and look back at his mentor with eyes full of respect.

Professor Minert didn't even look up, his voice returning to its calm tone: "Do you see that, Freud? That's the other side of humanity—greedy and fearful, wanting to trample all principles with money and power."

Remember, never compromise with such despicable behavior, even if it's draped in velvet and mink and carries a sack full of money.

Floyd nodded deeply.

Outside the window, the shadows of the Alps receded rapidly, while the lights of Paris appeared faintly in the distance.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Notre Dame Cathedral, Paris, on the last Sunday of July.

This Gothic behemoth standing on the banks of the Seine is the most eye-catching focus in all of Europe.

The central hall, which could hold thousands of people, was packed to the brim. The air was thick with the smells of sweat, perfume, candle wax, and incense...

The enormous rose window, illuminated by countless candles and gas lamps, refracted ever-changing halos of light.

The towering ribbed vaults and somber statues of saints cast huge, swaying shadows on the crowd in multiple layers of light, as if the entire building were breathing uneasily.

Seated in the front row were specially invited "audience" figures dressed in fine clothes—serious-looking government officials and high-ranking church officials in ornate vestments.

Then came the newspaper reporters, who, like sharks smelling blood, scribbled rapidly in their notebooks, their eyes wide open, afraid of missing a single detail.

Behind them and under the columns on both sides were citizen representatives who had squeezed in through various channels, craning their necks, their faces filled with longing for the supernatural wonder.

Multiple cameras were even set up at the scene to record this special ceremony.

(Ask for monthly ticket)

　In 1885, Freud went to the Sapirière Psychiatric Hospital in Paris to study under Chaco.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)