INTRODUCTION

Here's an example of an odd, neglected type of dream described by Havelock Ellis, a contemporary of Freud. He thought many dreams explore multiple meanings of a word or phrase (or aspects of an idea or image) that's never actually seen or heard in the dream: implied puns. And the dreamworker's job is to catch it.

THE DREAM

Drumming stumbles off the lawn, relentless-- echoes in the gloom. And this a writing class! I gave three shorts for feedback. But past that beat, I can't hear classmates' words, can only grope for agitated stance or voice. I hope to agitate! My first two tales? Indifference. But my third upset! Its shipwrecked narrator resounds like drums-- near the door, my friend Ed stands to confess what? The drummers drown him. Did he really say "I was kidnapped once on Crete"? Our bone-beard teacher hands me a scribbled sheet of comments illegible now in gloom, but for later gnaw, I stash. Private, query him "Did Ed say shipwrecked or kidnapped?" "Both! As a teen, Ed was on a Greek ferry that sank. He washed up on a beach in Crete. The men who found him called him salvage, like a crate! Kept him months, washing tavern dishes. Thrice he fled, told the cops--and they took him back." Whoa. 3000 years, and still Circe, Lotos-men, and taverna Cyclopes try Edysseus to pen! Explains the mystery of Ed. He's always been Touchy with cops, and volatile, I knew. Law's just prisonguards to him-- injustice in wine-deep blue.

Perched on the next desk: Marie. A few years back we both took advanced music. Small, neat, brilliant as a cat. Blonde then, now brunette-- surprising, but ink looks good on her. Back then I was so shy--considered her above me--but now over the drums we talk free. She smiles "In that class you seemed indifferent, ringed in a smoke-glass wall. But some of us eventually figured out that's not true; shy but not indifferent at all." Wait, the girls in class talked about me? I feel heartened--they cared! I blush, upset that I came across as cold, when I adore Marie so much--hell, longed so long for her. I say "Well, I grew up still more isolated, abused by elders and batteréd, than ever Ed. Whenever I raised that wall 'twas courtesy: can't push ugly me on you. And even moments with you, well... it's too good to be true. Hell, overwhelming. I feel shy still." Marie! From balls to soul, I feel again her pull, though confessing my dark childhood will likely lighthouse her off. But to me she's frank so I owe Marie the facts, not tact. I woke sure only of this: "Tell truth exact."

• Traumatized guy named Ed:
  1. Edward: a friend of mine who writes travelogs, and does have bizarre run-ins with cops and authorities.
  2. Edwin: Just read Jill Thompson's "The Dead Boy Detectives." Edwin was battered to death by school bullies. Even years later as a crime-solving ghost, Edwin's judgment is distorted--in a disappearance case, he obsesses on some bullies who are innocent--of abduction at least.
• Shipwreck narrative: I just edited and added The Boat is Sinking, a 275-year-old apparent psychic dream, to the World Dream Bank. I'm not sure what my dream is saying about it. Other than that I'm overworking, maybe--like poor Ed, forced to slave away.
• Galley has three meanings in English:
  1. Mediterranean ships often rowed by chained slaves. Here we are shipwrecked in Crete...
  2. Sailors' term for an onboard kitchen: so Ed the forced dishwasher is a "galley slave"!
  3. Printout of a book-text just before publication: last chance to edit. When I edited The Boat is Sinking, did I turn galley slave?
• The dream itself never actually mentions "galley", yet its triforked pun is everywhere once you notice it. It's a perfect example of a Havelock Ellis dream. Watch for them!
• Marie the musician: I've had other recent dreams saying "if you fall in love again, pick a musician." I need to be drawn out, and music does that, unlike writing, painting, or cartooning--arts for introverts! Marie was the best musician in our class. So if she's symbolic, she means not just love but music! (Though if I run into her next week after seven years, take the dream literally and ask her out...)
• Ed versus Marie: writing vs. singing, I think. I do both--and art too of course. But this dream, and a lot of others recently, suggests that music is my path now. I love it (Marie) while writing (Ed) has become... well, tinged with drudgery. Alone in a room...

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