INTRODUCTIONTop

The promotion of animal magnetism and hypnosis has always been associated with public demonstrations, often in spaces suitable for such events in hospitals, where the techniques and possibilities of these fields of knowledge would be presented to a select group of people (Lehman, 2009: 31). Initially, these exhibitions were offered for the most part by physicians and delivered to members of the social and scientific elite. However, towards the end of the nineteenth century these “scientific” public presentations gave rise to a proliferation of hypnosis performances in which the hypnotists were no longer necessarily trained doctors and admission was open to anyone with the money to pay for a ticket. The hypnotist’s motive had also shifted towards a more prosaic objective: it was no longer to disseminate a new scientific field but to earn a profit from the sale of the tickets to the show (Gauld, 1992 p. 577). The stage was no longer a contained space, as the magnetiser/hypnotist would move through the public (which participated actively in the show) turning the audience area into an extension of the stage (Winter, 1998: 85). What remained largely unchanged from the first generation of magnetisers—like José Custodio de Faria (1756-1819)—to the hypnotists more commonly viewed as performers—like Denmark’s Carl Hansen (1833-1897) or the Belgian Alfred Edouard D’Hont (1845-1900), better known by his stage name, Donato— were the methods used to achieve the trance state and the visible results elicited from the magnetised/hypnotised subjects (Gauld, 1992 pp. 188-303).[1]

A regular protagonist in these kinds of shows, apart from the hypnotist himself, was the somnambulist (nearly always a female), who would amaze the audience in various ways while in a trance state (Forrest, 1999: 150-168). In this respect, some first-hand witnesses to the phenomenon—such as the Belgian philosophy professor Joseph Delboeuf (1831-1896)—noted subtle differences in the personality of the hypnotised subjects, as each kind of hypnotist had his own paradigmatic subject to put in a trance: the hysterical women of the French anatomy professor and clinical neurologist Jean-Martin Charcot (1825-1893) were different from the suggestible patients of the Nancy School professor Hippolyte Bernheim (1840-1919), and these in turn were different from the individuals hypnotised by Donato (Cavalletti, 2015: 157).

During the last third of the nineteenth century, animal magnetism and hypnosis occupied a central place in many works of fiction, including novels (published as books or serialised in periodicals), short stories, novellas or plays (Hartman, 2018: vii). Arthur Quiller-Couch (1890 p. 316), an important nineteenth-century literary critic, even went so far as to suggest the emergence of a new literary subgenre, which he referred to as “hypnotic fiction”. Many years later, outside the realm of literary criticism and within the sphere of academic studies, Roger Luckhurst (2000 p. 155) has dubbed these literary creations as “Trance-Gothic”, while Julian Wolfreys (2007 p. 13) has called them “mesmeric texts”. The essential feature of this kind of text, which has generally been placed within the literary genre of the “late Victorian Gothic” (Botting, 1996: 12-13; Grimes, 2011: 1), is the appearance of animal magnetism and/or hypnosis in the story, either as central to the plot, in which case we would classify it as thematic use, or as a mere accessory to the story, with a more ornamental or peripheral role, which would therefore be classified as incidental use. The importance of academic studies of hypnotic fiction lies in the fact that literary texts preserve, protect and “fossilise” certain themes and issues related to these phenomena that are hard to find elsewhere (Peter, 2003 p. 50; Kurshan, 2006 p. 20). This line of research is in keeping with Roger Luckhurst’s (2000: 148) suggestion that hypnotic fiction reflects the historical debates surrounding these fields of knowledge.[2]

The earliest literature about stage hypnotists appeared in the late nineteenth century, when authors like Cavailhon (1882) and Delboeuf (1890) wrote books about Donato that sought to explain his theories and defend them against his detractors. On the other hand, stage hypnotists and animal magnetism and hypnosis performances are mentioned by nearly all the authors who have studied the history of these phenomena; for example, Ellenberger (1976 p. 114), Gauld (1992 pp. 302-306) and López Piñero (1970 p. 325) all highlight the fundamental role of Hansen’s shows in the renewed interest in hypnosis as an object of scientific study in the late nineteenth century. Meanwhile, Forrest (1999 pp. 136-168), Lehman (2009: 36-54) and Winter (1998 pp. 60-78) have focused on the emblematic case of Elizabeth O’Key, who, together with her sister, was the experimental subject of the magnetic performances of the English physician and director of the North London Hospital, John Elliotson (1791-1868), and who even rivalled major actresses of the period in terms of her public popularity.

In recent years, since the extensive and ambitious studies of the history of animal magnetism and hypnosis like those of Crabtree (1993), Ellenberger (1976), Forrest (1999), Gauld (1992) or López Piñero (1970), in which mesmeric and hypnotic fiction is relegated to a few footnotes or occasional mentions, there have been studies much closer to the level of microhistory that contain numerous references to and examinations of mesmeric and hypnotic fiction. The figure of the stage hypnotist is not overlooked in this historiographical trend, as can be verified in the studies compiled in issue 71 of Notes and Records, titled History of Hypnotism in Europe (2017); in this issue, authors like Hajek, Graus, Brancaccio and Wils cite works of the hypnotic fiction subgenre to support their studies, which focus on an analysis of the attack launched by medical hypnotists against stage hypnotists as part of a strategy to legitimise the field of hypnosis. Taking a similar approach, studies by González de Pablo (2016) and Vallejo (2014; 2015) examine the cases of Spain, Argentina and Mexico. Studies in which the analysis of hypnotic fiction is given more consideration in the historical reconstruction of stage hypnotism include Andriopoulos (2008: 66-90), Cavalletti (2015), Finn (2017 pp. 74-97) and Tatar (1978 pp. 230-272). Andriopoulos explores cases of performances in which a hypnotised person was ordered to commit a crime; both Cavalletti and Tatar focus their analysis on the stage hypnotist who appears in Thomas Mann’s novella Mario and the Magician (1930), while Finn analyses the relationships and influences between stage hypnotists and the French writer Guy de Maupassant. Finally, also worthy of mention here are the books Overpowered! The Science and Showbiz of Hypnosis (2015) by Christopher Green, for its many archive illustrations and posters related to stage hypnotists, and The New Encyclopedia of Stage Hypnotism (1996) by Ormond McGill, which offers an exhaustive review of the most popular tricks and numbers in hypnosis performances.

The main objective of my research, which examines both the literary text and its historical and social context, is to provide new and interesting data that may contribute to the development of a poetics or theory of the literary subgenre of hypnotic fiction. In this sense, this article is an essential contribution to a broader analysis that I have been working on, focusing on highlighting the generic features of this type of literature. My starting point or central argument is similar to the one proposed by Roslynn Haynes (2017 pp. 4), in her book From Faust to Strangelove (1994), a text that was recently updated and expanded under the title From Madman to Crime Fighter: The Scientist in Western Culture (2017). Haynes’ study presents a series of stereotypes of scientists that have been repeated with little variation in Western fiction literature over the centuries. In the same way, it is possible to trace a few clearly defined stereotypes of magnetisers and hypnotists in the history of hypnotic fiction.[3]

To do this, for this study I have chosen the novellas Professor Fargo (1874) by Henry James (1843-1916) and Drink: A Love Story on a Great Question (1890) by Hall Caine (1853-1931). Both texts feature a stage hypnotist or magnetiser who, together with other stereotypes of magnetisers and hypnotists, would shape one of the most representative literary tropes of the literary subgenre of hypnotic fiction. The analysis of magnetiser/hypnotist stereotypes is thus one of the most promising lines of research for the development of a theory or poetics of this literary subgenre, and the stage hypnotist is clearly among the most complex and ambiguous stereotypes in this literature. The stage hypnotist is an individual who makes a living out of performing like any other carnival showman; his exhibitions are announced with eye-catching posters to attract the public like those of any circus artist, and he goes from town to town like any travelling salesman, using the title “professor” in front of his name to enhance his prestige. The basic features of this stereotype combine a mixture of qualities associated with other stereotypes of fictional hypnotists like the villain, the charlatan and the occultist; however, although both Professor Fargo and Drink both feature stage hypnotists, these two characters are essentially different in terms of their moral character, as will be shown below.

Neither of these two texts are very well-known; Professor Fargo, despite being the work of an author of the stature of Henry James, has been eclipsed by other texts by the author that have received greater recognition from both critics and publishers. It is perhaps for this reason that Professor Fargo has not received as much academic attention as the author’s other works, such as The Bostonians (1886) or The Turn of the Screw (1898). On the other hand, Hall Caine, a very popular author in his time with major commercial and critical successes, is all but forgotten today, although he is often mentioned in academic studies on the history of Victorian literature (Hammond, 2006 pp. 28-36; Nicoll, 1973 pp. 190-197; Waller, 2006 pp. 729-766), and has also been the subject of some very well-researched biographies, such as Vivien Allen’s Hall Caine: Portrait of a Victorian Romancer (1997), and more recently, a couple of PhD theses: Sir Thomas Henry Hall Caine, Dramatist, with a Special Study of Mahomet and Its Contexts (2015) by Kristans Tetens, and The Spiritual Brotherhood of Mankind: Religion in the Novels of Hall Caine (2017) by Anne Connor. Although studies of animal magnetism and hypnosis in fiction have a long history,[4]Professor Fargo and Drink have yet to be examined from this perspective, and therefore this study is intended as a new contribution to this field of research.

Moreover, both Professor Fargo and Drink offer significant insights into some of the debates and disputes related to animal magnetism and hypnosis that were raging at the time and place they were written. As will be discussed below, Professor Fargo deals with “spiritual animal magnetism”, a theoretical stance that sought to explain the events related to the trance state as the result of the mediation of spirits. In Drink we find numerous angles and perspectives on the same controversy: the scientific status of animal magnetism and hypnosis; for this reason, the novel constitutes a highly valuable work, as it clearly reflects certain polemical issues that some recent authors have placed under the label of “boundary work” (Wolffram 2010 pp. 149-176; Hajek 2017 pp. 125-139; Wils 2017 pp. 179-196). The novella thus presents the opposition of official medicine to animal magnetism and hypnosis; the epistemological battles over hypnosis between the Salpêtrière School and the Nancy School; the rejection of these practices by the Church and, above all, the differentiation between animal magnetism and hypnosis. In relation to this last point, it is common for fiction writers to use the terms “animal magnetism”, “mesmerism” and “hypnosis” interchangeably, without any distinctions made between them. Indeed, in the same text we can sometimes find the term “mesmerism” followed a paragraph later by the term “hypnosis” with reference to the same phenomenon, as in the novel The Beetle: A Mystery (Marsh, 1920: 82).[5]

As various authors have pointed out (Andriopoulos, 2008 pp. 32-36; Marquer, 2008 pp. 159-160; Stubbs 1996 p. 275), hypnotic fiction was a cultural artefact that sought to educate readers and encourage them to reflect on both the potential and the perils of hypnosis by exploring and exposing its most spectacular qualities. In this sense, the study and analysis of this literary subgenre reveals itself to be a very useful pursuit for historians of animal magnetism and hypnosis. Moreover, a good understanding of the literary subgenre of hypnotic fiction would help us avoid the trap of making hazardous overinterpretations which, as authors like Shuttleworth (2012 p. 62) and Vax (1980 pp. 9-13) point out, stem from a lack of understanding of the poetics of the texts in question.

THE SPIRITUAL MAGNETISM OF PROFESSOR FARGOTop

The story Professor Fargo was published for the first time in the journal The Galaxy in 1874; later, it would be included in the story collection Travelling Companions (1919) and subsequently appear in book format as part of the Little Blue Book series with the title Spiritual Magnetism (1931). The narrator of the story, whose name and profession we are never told, arrives in the town of P. (only the first initial of the town’s name is given to us), located somewhere in the United States. While walking through the streets of the town he comes upon a notice announcing a performance that very evening: “Professor Fargo, the Infallible Waking Medium and Magician, Clairvoyant,[6] Prophet, and Seer! Colonel Gifford, the Famous Lightning Calculator and Mathematical Reformer!” (James, 1919 p. 89). The protagonist attends the performance and meets Professor Fargo, Colonel Gifford and his deaf-mute daughter, who also participates in her father’s mathematical demonstrations. Over the next few days the narrator becomes Colonel Gifford’s confidant, and thus learns of the financial hardships that he and his daughter are facing. These hardships are the reason for their association with Professor Fargo, whom the Colonel disdains. In a moment of friction between the two men, owing to Gifford’s undisguised contempt for Fargo, the Professor promises the Colonel that he will soon demonstrate to him that his magnetic powers are real. Some time later, now in New York City, our narrator attends Professor Fargo and Colonel Gifford’s show again, on two consecutive nights. On the second evening he finds that he is the only one in the audience; it would seem that things are not going well for the Professor and the Colonel. In response to the lack of ticket sales, the owner of the theatre where they are performing demands his money. Professor Fargo asks the Colonel to allow his daughter to play a leading role in his magnetising act in order to boost sales in future performances, but the Colonel flatly refuses. Professor Fargo persists: either the Colonel must pay half the debt to the theatre owner, or allow his daughter to perform as Fargo’s assistant, in which case the Professor will cover the whole debt. At this point, our narrator offers to pay the Colonel’s part to get his daughter out of the predicament. Finally, Professor Fargo speaks to the Colonel’s daughter, who appears to hear his instructions despite her deafness, and she follows him like an automaton, much to the horror of her father. In this moment it is clear that the Colonel’s daughter is acting under the magnetic influence of Professor Fargo, who suggests that this is the proof he had promised to provide the Colonel to demonstrate that his magnetic powers are real. In the end, Professor Fargo and the Colonel’s daughter leave the theatre together, into a future of magnetic performances.

In one of the few academic studies of Professor Fargo, the author suggests that the name Fargo is a literary allusion to Charcot (Geoffroy-Menoux, 1997 p. 4), who argued that hypnotism was a pathological process that occurred only in cases of hysteria (López-Piñero and Morales, 1970 p. 171). Geoffroy-Menoux also suggests that the name Gifford is a reference to the Gifford Lectures,[7] in which Henry James’ brother, the Harvard psychology professor William James (1842-1910), gave a series of talks that would later be published under the title The Varieties of Religious Experience: A Study in Human Nature (1902) (Geoffroy-Menoux, 1997 p. 4). Although Charcot has been critically compared to a theatre impresario, his demonstration room in the Salpêtrière Hospital to a theatre stage and his hysterical patients to actresses (Andriopoulos, 2008 pp. 67-71; Lehman, 2009 p. 37; Pick, 1989 p. 169), the connection established by Geoffroy-Menoux between Fargo and Charcot is no more than a speculation. On the other hand, the connection posited between the Colonel’s name and the Gifford Lectures is simply impossible, as the lecture series in question was first established in 1888 (Jones, 1970 p. 11), fourteen years after the publication of Professor Fargo, and William James gave his lecture for the series in 1902, the same year that Henry James reported having enjoyed reading them in book form (Álvarez, 1989 p. 9), a full twenty-eight years after the publication of Professor Fargo.[8]

In the wake of Hansen and Donato, and inspired by their success at the box office, a multitude of imitators emerged; a pamphlet from 1843 estimated that there were between 20 and 30 shows of this type being presented at the same time in New England alone, and more than 200 magnetisers offering their services in the city of Boston (Fuller, 1982 p. 30). And it was precisely in Boston, between 1870 and 1872, that Henry James regularly attended numerous demonstrations of mesmerism (Edel, 1977 p. 290). Some of these magnetisers possessed unique qualities, while others were mere charlatans and frauds. Charlatanism was practically an inherent part of the hypnosis performance: on the one hand, the hypnotists had to attract and entertain an audience, which is why they would often exaggerate their mesmeric or hypnotic abilities given that, according to Robin Waterfield (2002: 9), in the short time that a hypnosis performance lasted it was almost impossible to achieve the state of relaxation or concentration necessary to be hypnotised; and on the other, the stage hypnotists’ theoretical explanations of animal magnetism or hypnosis tended to be largely incoherent fantasies (González de Pablo, 2016 p. 162). Professor Fargo fits neatly into this category of stage hypnotists who travelled from town to town to exhibit their craft, appropriating titles or epithets that would lend them scientific and social legitimacy, the most common being “Doctor” and “Professor” (Graus, 2000 p. 147). It is interesting to note that in Henry James’ story both of the show’s protagonists make use of such titles: “Professor” Fargo and “Colonel” Gifford. However, the author makes a point from the outset of highlighting the fact that these are two very different characters: Professor Fargo has adopted his title gratuitously (he is not really a professor), while Colonel Gifford actually had served as a military officer (James, 1874 p. 105). And the narrator highlights another, more substantial difference between the two characters: Colonel Gifford is depicted as a man of science: “Chemistry, physics, mathematics, philology, medicine I’ve dug deep in them all” (James, 1919 p. 105), while Professor Fargo defines himself as a “medium and magician, clairvoyant, prophet, and seer” (James, 1919: 88). In this respect, Colonel Gifford himself highlights the difference between the two men: “[…] it makes a difference whether people feed, intellectually, on poisoned garbage or on the ripe, sweet fruit of true science!” (James, 1919 p. 110). It may seem strange that Professor Fargo does not include the words “magnetiser” or “hypnotist” in the list of Fargo’s attributes cited above, but our doubts are dispelled when Fargo himself explains:

The great thing now is to be able to exercise a mysterious influence over living organisms. You can do it with your eye, you can do it with your voice, you can do it with certain motions of your hand as thus, you perceive; you can do it with nothing at all by just setting your mind on it. (…) It’s called magnetism. (James, 1919 p. 112).

Professor Fargo then goes on to clarify that: “Some folks call it animal magnetism, but I call it spiritual magnetism” (James, 1919 p. 113). The Professor thus claims that he can establish contact with disembodied spirits by means of his magnetic powers, that he is a kind of magnetic medium, and that he can conjure up any spirit that his audience might wish to see (James, 1919: 120). Here we observe a common feature of the charlatan magnetiser/hypnotist in the character of the professor: he doesn’t really have the magnetic capacities he claims to possess, or if he does possess them he exaggerates their potential.

Charlatanism is another very clear trait of the stage hypnotist, along with the phony titles, the itinerant lifestyle, the flashy posters and flyers to announce his shows and a certain carnivalesque air: “He was dressed in a black evening suit, of a tarnished elegance, and it was in keeping with the festal pattern of his garments, that on the right forefinger of a large, fat hand, he should wear an immense turquoise ring” (James, 1919 p. 89). The stage hypnotist’s outfit would become one of his most enduring features; nearly sixty years after the publication of Henry James’ novel, Thomas Mann would publish the story Mario and the Magician (1930), which introduces us to an evil stage hypnotist named Cipola, who dresses in a top hat, cape and white gloves (Mann, 1996 p. 120).

Professor Fargo’s “spiritual magnetism” is not merely incidental; in fact, there was a major movement that sought to explain the occult origins of magnetic phenomena through the mediation of spirits (Crabtree, 1993 p. 196). This theoretical approach to the phenomenon of magnetism had its roots in the book Die Seherin von Prevorst (1829) by Justinus Kerner (1786-1862), which would become a reference text for Spiritist circles. For Kerner, illness was a kind of possession that could be cured by an exorcism (Montiel, 2006 p. 27).[9] Another important influence on spiritual magnetism were the ideas and theories of Emanuel Swedenborg (1688-1772), developed in relation to animal magnetism by authors like Jung-Stilling, Billot and Louis Alphonse Cahagnet. In short, the message of these authors was quite simple and obvious: spirits (either angelic beings or deceased humans) were behind it all; evil spirits made people ill and good spirits could heal them (Crabtree, 1993 pp. 203-209). Spiritual magnetism reached its peak of popularity around the 1850s in the United States (Crabtree, 1993 p. 212), which should not surprise us if we consider that the modern Spiritist movement was born in that country in 1847 in the town of Hydesville, New York, and quickly spread throughout the country (Mülberger, 2016 p. 27). According to Robert Fuller (1987 p. 211), Americans preferred the spiritual magnetism model over other theories posited to explain animal magnetism (such as the universal fluid theory) and believed that through this phenomenon people could gain access to the transpersonal world of spirits.[10]

It is quite common to find authors who established connections between animal magnetism and Spiritism in their stories, particularly through the use of Spiritist motifs in characters, settings, theories and rituals (Leigthon, 2006 p. 205). One example can be found in Conan Doyle’s The Great Keinplatz Experiment (1885), which establishes connections between animal magnetism, Spiritism, the Swedenborg School and the Rosicrucians; other representative examples include Edward Bulwer-Lytton’s novels Zanoni (1842) and A Strange Story (1862) and Somerset Maugham’s The Magician (1908). Similarly, Professor Fargo exhibits the essential feature of the esoteric/occultist magnetiser/hypnotist who mixes the theory of animal magnetism with ideas drawn from the esoteric or the occult, such as Spiritism. It is clear that Henry James’ understanding of animal magnetism was always imbued with Spiritist elements; this is also evident in his novel The Bostonians (1886), where he would once again link animal magnetism to Spiritism and clairvoyance (Tatar, 1978 p. 235).[11]

Professor Fargo believes that featuring the Colonel’s daughter as the somnambulist in his show is the solution to attract more spectators and save himself from ruin; in fact, performances of animal magnetism or hypnosis often made use of the female somnambulist as an important part of the show (Lehman, 2009 p. 64).[12] A paradigmatic example is the case of Charles Poyen, considered one of the biggest propagators of animal magnetism in the United States (Crabtree, 1993 p. 218), whose techniques for successfully spreading the phenomenon can be understood as the methodology subsequently adopted and adapted by stage hypnotists. Poyen arrived in Boston in 1836 declaring himself to be the “Professor of Animal Magnetism”. After giving some lectures on the subject to rather paltry audiences, he realised the importance of good publicity and began distributing posters and flyers throughout the city to promote his demonstrations (Coale, 2007 p. 89); however, real success with the public came only when he teamed up with the somnambulist Cynthia Gleason and combined his lectures with far more spectacular practical demonstrations (Gauld, 1992 p. 181). Professor Fargo’s idea of turning the Colonel’s daughter into his somnambulist is thus not a mere whimsy as it was the basis for a new type of spectacle initially associated with animal magnetism, later with Spiritist sessions (Lehman, 2009 p. 88), and finally with magicians and illusionists (Christopher, 1962 pp. 97-99). It was in fact in the United States where the word “somnambulist” began to be replaced by “medium” or “clairvoyant”, no doubt due to the close relationship noted above between animal magnetism and Spiritism (Van Schlun, 2007 p. 61).

The character of the Colonel’s daughter is only very vaguely outlined in the story, although it could hardly be otherwise in such a short text; nevertheless, she clearly possesses a set of features (innocence, naturalness, guilelessness and defencelessness) that would later appear in the female protagonists of Daisy Miller (1878), The Portrait of a Lady (1881) and The Wings of the Dove (1902), and which became hallmark traits of Henry James’ female characters. Set in contrast with a character exhibiting these positive qualities is the character of Professor Fargo, a miserly, sarcastic, phony, villainous charlatan who has no qualms about using his magnetic powers to control the Colonel’s daughter; and it is here that Fargo is finally exposed with all the classical features of the evil magnetiser stereotype.

LA MOTHE AGAINST THE “GREAT HYPNOTIST”Top

Drink: A Love Story on a Great Question was serialised in the magazine All the Year Round in 1890; sixteen years later (in 1906), it would be published in book form without substantial modifications, and although not a success with critics the book became a best-seller (Allen, 1997 p. 313). In the 1906 edition, the author added a short preface to the text, in which he included the following disclaimer:

In my ignorance of medical science I dare not take any responsibility whatever for the theories advanced in that part of this little novel which deals with the claims of hypnotism. I have only attempted, in the role of the autobiographical story-teller, to dramatize, as far as a layman may know and understand them, the conflicting opinions of those who have written or spoken on the subject in England, France and Germany (Caine, 1907: n. p.).

In the 1907 re-edition, several sections were added to the end of the book: a section of responses to criticisms and questions received following the publication of the novel; two newspaper articles written by Caine himself about illegal establishments selling alcohol and the mafias that ran them in London and New York; and a speech on temperance by the American Presbyterian reverend and popular religious leader Thomas De Witt Talmage (1832-1902). In the preface to the pocket edition of the novella published in 1908, Caine confesses that he has received more correspondence about Drink than about all his other novels put together (Waller, 2006 p. 744).

Drink is clearly a blend of various literary subgenres: it has elements of the romantic novel, is certainly an example of hypnotic fiction and also belongs to a literary subgenre that became very popular in the nineteenth century: temperance fiction, a phenomenon influenced and sometimes sponsored by the reformist movements that were spreading throughout Europe and the United States at the time (Nicholls, 2009 p. 75), and in which Caine was an active participant, as a member of the Band of Hope since 1870 (Waller, 2006 p. 744).[13]

There is such a profusion of references to different theories explaining animal magnetism and hypnosis in Drink (from the magnetic fluid proposed by Mesmer to Bernheim’s theory of hypnotic suggestion), and to authors associated directly with animal magnetism and hypnosis, that Caine’s text occasionally assumes an excessively didactic tone, a problem for which the author’s work has often been criticised (Allen, 1997 p. 314). However, Caine always sought to teach and enlighten through his novels, and he understood this as his main objective as a writer (Waller, 2006 p. 740).

The protagonist of Drink, the solicitor Robert Harcourt, travels to the town of Cleator Moor to meet his fiancée, Lucy Clousedale, whom he met a few months earlier in London (Caine, 1907 p. 2). The character of Lucy is depicted in a manner identical to Henry James’ female characters described above, and is also reminiscent of Trilby, thus reaffirming the well-defined stereotype of the hypnotised woman: “Her health, her sweetness, her simplicity, her naturalness, her freshness had made a deep impression” (Caine, 1907 p. 2).

On reaching his destination, Robert discovers that Lucy suffers from hereditary dipsomania (a kind of cyclical alcoholism) due to an old curse that has been tormenting the members of her family for generations (Caine, 1907 pp, 10-18). As a result, Lucy staggers between severe breakdowns that drive her to extreme alcoholic binges and bouts of depression when her desire to drink vanishes completely. The prognosis is that the breakdowns will increase in frequency in a spiralling circle until she ends up drinking herself to death, just as her father and grandfather did before her. In view of this hopeless fate, Lucy breaks off her engagement to Robert, who returns devastated to London (Caine, 1907: 21). While wandering through the city streets, he sees a huge placard announcing a hypnotist named Professor La Mothe, who that night will be waking up a man who has been lying for ten days in a hypnotic trance (Caine, 1907 p. 22). Of course, Robert attends the show. The initial description we are given of Professor La Mothe is totally different from that of Professor Fargo in Henry James’ story: La Mothe is a middle-aged man with refined manners, a broad smile and a warm and caressing tone of voice (Caine, 1907 p. 23).[14] When the performance is over, Robert strikes up a conversation with La Mothe about intemperance and asks him directly: “Do you think if a patient were put under artificial sleep when the period is approaching, and kept there as long as it is usual for it to last, the crave would be gone when the time came to awaken him?” (Caine, 1907 p. 23). La Mothe is a Frenchman and doesn’t speak English, so Robert must repeat his question in French. Finally, he responds that treatment of alcoholism with hypnosis is nothing new in the Nancy School (Caine, 1907 p. 23).[15] It is here that the plot of Drink has certain points in common with Poe’s story “The Facts in the Case of Mr. Valdemar”, at least in relation to the experimental use of animal magnetism. In Poe’s story, Ernest Valdemar, a man dying of tuberculosis, is placed in a trance with the simple objective of seeing what will happen; in Caine’s story, Lucy Clousedale is placed in a trance so that, in that somnambulist state resembling a coma, she can sleep through the crisis period that drives her to drink in excess (Caine, 1907 pp. 10-18).

Just as they did in the United States, hypnotist performances in Europe combined theoretical and historical explanations of animal magnetism and hypnosis with practical demonstrations, following a model popularised particularly by the aforementioned stage hypnotist Carl Hansen (González de Pablo, 2016 pp. 161-165); however, while in the United States and other countries of the Americas, such as Mexico, there was no conflict between medical hypnotists and amateurs (Vallejo, 2015 p. 209), in Europe physicians who practised hypnosis mounted a strong opposition against lay magnetisers like Hansen and Donato (Guarnieri 1988 pp. 117-138; Wolffram, 2010 pp. 154-154; Wils, 2017 pp. 179-182). According to Bruce Mills (2006: 6-10), this difference can be explained by the fact that in the United States there were no conservative medical authorities (as there were in Europe) that could have articulated a critical response to animal magnetism and hypnosis; moreover, America’s profoundly democratic values enabled movements like vegetarianism, free love, Spiritism, homeopathy and phrenology to spread around the country with minimal opposition (Gauld, 1992 p. 180). In Europe, things were quite different, as medical hypnotists established a strong resistance to the practice of hypnosis by people without medical training, and by 1880 local governments in countries like Denmark, Austria, Germany, Italy and France had begun banning hypnosis performances on different pretexts; in Belgium, a law was even passed against them (Wils, 2017 p. 179). In contrast, the New York State Government dismissed the petitions of a judge to introduce a ban on hypnosis shows (Bell, 1898 pp. 102-118). In Spain, doctors interested in hypnosis initially attended performances offered by stage hypnotists like Onofroff and Alberto Das in order to learn the rudiments of the technique (Graus, 2017, pp. 141-156), and subsequently began to criticise and discredit those very same hypnotists (who were not physicians), as part of what González de Pablo (2017 pp. 183-191) has called a “strategy of exclusion” that sought to present hypnosis as a respectable scientific practice. In the United Kingdom, medical hypnotists did not launch a direct attack on hypnosis performances or lay hypnotists; instead, the conflict centred on a debate over ethical and moral issues related to animal magnetism and hypnosis (Wolffram, 2010 p. 155). The French magnetiser Jules Du Potet (1796-1881) was one of the first to attempt to promote animal magnetism in England,[16] also announcing himself as the “Professor of Magnetic Medicine”; like La Mothe he couldn’t speak English, a fact that limited his success since his presentations were restricted to public demonstrations without theoretical explanations (Winter, 1998 pp. 40-45). From the outset Du Potet had trouble with the English medical community, which prevented him from offering demonstrations in a number of hospitals around the city, although in this case the resistance came not from medical hypnotists but from physicians who objected to the practice of animal magnetism in medicine (Hughes, 2015 pp. 81-90). Some years later, even John Elliotson was accused by his colleagues of fraud and was even said to have gone mad as a result of his magnetic experiments and was forced to resign from his post as director of the North London Hospital (Winter, 1998 pp. 95-100).[17] A similar fate befell Herbert Mayo (1796-1852), Professor of Anatomy and Physiology at King’s College London, who was compelled to give up his chair and other senior posts he held and go into exile in Germany due to the disrepute that his work in mesmerism had brought him (López-Piñero and Morales, 1970 p. 124).

This opposition of the medical profession to animal magnetism and hypnosis is clearly depicted in Caine’s novel when the doctor attending Lucy refuses to condone her being treated with hypnosis by La Mothe. At first, the doctor attempts to dismiss the validity of hypnosis by arguing that the hypnotic state exists only in the imagination of the hypnotised subject (Caine, 1907: 28). The use of “imagination” as a theory to explain animal magnetism and hypnosis has a long history; its earliest appearance was in 1786 in a publication by Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790) describing the results of the French Royal Commission to assess animal magnetism of which Franklin formed a part in 1784, and which concluded by dismissing the existence of the magnetic fluid proposed by Mesmer (Crabtree, 1993 p. 92). The doctor then goes on to warn of the dangers associated with hypnosis and its ethical and legal implications: who would be responsible if Lucy couldn’t be woken from the trance state, if she died in the trance or woke up in a permanent state of hysteria? (Caine, 1907 p. 28). On one occasion during one of his performances, Elliotson could not wake up his somnambulist, Miss O’Key, and spent several hours trying until she finally awoke, all to the boos and jeers of the audience, who remained seated until it was all over (Winter, 1998 p. 75). In raising the question of the danger of dying whilst in a hypnotic trance, Caine anticipates the first report of such a case by four years (remembering that Drink was first published in 1890): in 1894, the 23-year-old Hungarian aristocrat Ella Salomon died during a hypnotic trance. The incident was published by the doctor William Von Vragassy and sparked a great deal of controversy over the cause of the somnambulist’s death and the culpability of the hypnotist in the affair (Ewin, 2008 pp. 70-71; Hammerschlag, 1956 pp. 49-55; Lafferton 2006 pp. 65-70). Another prominent case was that of Robert Simpson, who died in a trance during a hypnosis performance directed by “Professor” Arthur Everton in Somerville, New Jersey (Hartman, 2018: x). And finally, as mentioned above, a relationship between hysteria and hypnosis was established by Charcot and his Salpêtrière School, who defined the hypnotic state as a kind of “provoked neurosis”, arguing that the most extravagant forms of “grande névrose” (hysteria) were to be found in “grand hypnotisme”, which had three successive states: the cataleptic, the lethargic and the somnambulistic (López-Piñero and Morales, 1970 pp. 187-190). It is interesting to note that the fears or concerns in relation to hypnosis highlighted by Caine in his story (published in 1890) continue to hold currency today, although now they are referred to as myths about hypnosis (Capafons, 2001 p. 19).

In England, another important sector of society that took an interest in animal magnetism and hypnosis was the Church, as Anglican, Catholic and evangelical clergy learned from stage hypnotists the techniques put into practice by the so-called “magnetic preachers”. Like medical hypnotists, after learning everything they could about the subject these hypnotist preachers developed their own theory to explain the phenomenon (in keeping with their religious beliefs) and to establish a radical opposition to animal magnetism and hypnosis (Winter, 1998 pp. 247-260). This opposition also appears in Drink, represented by a minister who objects to the hypnotist’s intervention just as vehemently as the doctor. It is in this very interesting passage that we are presented with a brief summary of the Church’s arguments for rejecting animal magnetism and hypnosis. In short, the minister’s position is founded on the idea that hypnosis is a diabolical power that enslaves people by depriving them of their free will, and that hypnotists are therefore effectively servants of Lucifer (Caine, 1907 pp. 25-26). In this regard, it would be impossible not to mention the “Satanic Agency and Mesmerism” sermon by the Irish Anglican reverend Hugh M’Neile, in which he accused the surgeon James Braid of being in league with Satan (Crabtree, 1993 pp. 151).

From 1874 onwards, new “scientific” theories of hypnosis began to be articulated, giving rise to a conflict between the Salpêtrière and Nancy schools; this boom in hypnosis resulted in a “revival” of animal magnetism (Harrington, 1998 p. 227) and the medical hypnotists who had opposed hypnosis performances offered by lay hypnotists, known popularly in France as “magnétiseurs” (Finn, 1998 p. 227), also sought to dissociate hypnosis from animal magnetism as part of the same legitimising strategy (Wolffram, 2010 pp. 161-166; Wils 2017 pp. 181-182; Hajek 2017 pp. 125-130). This dispute between animal magnetism and hypnosis also appears in Drink: La Mothe tries to hypnotise Lucy with the method of fixing the gaze on a luminous object, a method popularised by Braid (Winter, 1998 p. 185); but for reasons not made entirely clear in the story, his attempt is unsuccessful (Caine, 1907 p. 30). Having failed to induce a trance using hypnotic methods, La Mothe decides to use methods drawn from animal magnetism, such as passing his hands all over the subject’s body and massaging her in certain “hypnogenic zones” (Caine, 1907 p. 31).[18] At this point in the story, a significant change occurs: Robert stops referring to La Mothe as a hypnotist and begins calling him a magnetiser (Caine, 1907 p. 30). This detail is representative of the author’s interest throughout the text in differentiating hypnosis from animal magnetism and never using the two terms interchangeably, which was common practice in mesmeric fiction. Although moments after meeting La Mothe, Robert exclaims: “Hypnotism! Animal magnetism! Electrobiology! Call it what you will” (Caine, 1907 p. 24),[19] now he is very careful to distinguish between the two terms and not heap them together.

The campaign by medical hypnotists to legitimise hypnosis was an battle with too many fronts to succeed; on the one hand, as noted above, were the more conservative physicians who, together with the Church, opposed the use of hypnosis in medicine; and on the other were the hypnosis performances and lay hypnotists who had powerful defenders, such as the previously mentioned Delboeuf (Cavalletti, 2015 pp. 137-140), the Italian psychiatrist and anthropologist Enrico Morselli (Guarnieri, 1988 pp. 117-138) and the Nobel prize-winning physiologist Charles Ri-chet (Finn, 2017 p. 79).[20] Added to this was the fact that an impartial observer would not be able to find much difference between the performances offered by lay hypnotists and the demonstrations of hypnosis performed by physicians (Leighton, 2006 pp. 203-205), as illustrated by the theatricality of Charcot’s presentations, noted above, or the fact that the Nancy School was criticised for its insistence on presenting spectacles in which the hypnotised subject would be made to commit fictitious crimes (Andriopoulos, 2008 pp. 67-76). And finally, the epistemological debate between medical hypnotists themselves over the theoretical foundations of hypnosis (Salpêtrière vs. Nancy) only served to increase the number of detractors of hypnosis and to undermine its credibility (Laurence and Campbell, 1988 pp. 179-262; Harris, 1989 pp. 155-242). There were thus numerous points of conflict between the Salpêtrière and Nancy schools, and many of these appear in Caine’s novella. One such dispute was related to the stages or states of the hypnotic process: in Drink, Lucy passes through three stages which, with the exception of the first, match up with the stages of Charcot’s “grand hypnotisme”. The exception is that instead of exhibiting catalepsy in the first stage, Lucy experiences a series of spasmodic movements (Caine, 1907 p. 31) reminiscent of the convulsive fits experienced by the subjects of the sessions organised by Mesmer (Crabtree, 1993 p. 14). Conversely, the Nancy School speaks not of stages but of degrees of hypnosis, the last degree being somnambulism (Beaunis, 1888 p. 8). At this point in the novella an interesting debate is established in relation to the hypnotic/magnetic stages or states between the doctor, who is present as a spectator of the experiment, and the magnetiser La Mothe (Caine, 1907 p. 32); however, the hypnotic process does not end with the somnambulistic stage, as there is one more stage after it: La Mothe “touched her eyebrows and her temples with a hard downward pressure” (Caine, 1907 p. 33), and Lucy thus enters the trance stage or state.

Lucy spends three days in this coma-like condition, and when La Mothe wakes her up she refuses the alcoholic beverage she is offered, thereby proving that she has overcome her alcoholic breakdown by sleeping through it. It is here that the story shifts away from the classical arguments of mesmeric literature, as up to this point the plot could easily have turned into a horror story similar to Poe’s Valdemar; instead, Lucy wakes up from her magnetic trance with no problems: she hasn’t died or turned hysterical. Indeed, in contrast with the case of Valdemar, the experiment has been a success, and Lucy has been cured of her alcoholism. In both stories we are presented with a magnetiser who is not a villain but a man who seeks to use animal magnetism to do good; the only difference is the result of the magnetic experiment, as in the case of Drink it is positive while in the case of Valdemar it is disastrous.

On this point, the plot takes a slight turn, almost as if the author didn’t know how to continue a story that might well have ended with La Mothe’s therapeutic success; perhaps this was his intention but the journal serialising the novel pressured him to stretch out the tale, or perhaps the author wanted to expose some other fears and concerns related to magnetism and hypnosis. La Mothe suggests magnetising Lucy again to ensure that she is completely cured, but Robert begins to doubt the benefits of prolonged exposure to the trance state and to question animal magnetism in general: “Then my feeling of repulsion against the occult powers, and against the means of using them, was now stronger than ever, notwithstanding the good results. And I began to foresee a new and hideous danger” (Caine, 1907 p. 39). Robert fears that after numerous sessions of magnetism Lucy might end up emotionally “attached” to the magnetiser; La Mothe, who admits this danger in the case of the methods of animal magnetism (Caine, 1907 p. 40), tries to convince him that no such risk exists in the case of hypnosis:

In hypnotism, [...] the operator’s personality is not an active force. Your English doctor, Braid, saw this clearly, at a moment when the very mention of mesmerism would have deprived him of his practice and ruined him for life. Hypnotism requires no commerce between the body of the operator and the body of the subject (Caine, 1907 p. 40).[21]

Nevertheless, La Mothe’s arguments in favour of hypnotism fail to convince Robert, who continues to fear “the complete subjugation of the will of the subject and the complete domination of the will of the operator” (Caine, 1907 p. 40). It is here that Caine introduces another point of conflict between the Salpêtrière and Nancy schools. In this case, the Nancy School claimed that the will of the subject was completely subjugated to the will of the operator, something that amazed even Bernheim himself: “When we see a subject who is in a spontaneously or artificially induced somnambulistic condition, a docile instrument in the hands of another, with no will of his own, when we see him submit to all influences and perform any acts, we cannot help being deeply affected” (Bernheim, 1886: 171). The subjugation of the hypnotised subject was so great that he might even be made to commit crimes if the hypnotist suggested it (Carroy, 1991 p. 64).[22] In contrast, the Salpêtrière School argued that hypnotised subjects never lost their decision-making power and that all their actions were attributable to their own will (Carroy, 1991 p. 162).[23]

Robert decides not to continue with the magnetism sessions, nor does he want to try hypnosis, as he himself puts it: “I had had enough of hypnotism and mesmerism” (Caine, 1907 p. 41). La Mothe returns to London, where he will end up founding a clinic for the treatment of alcoholism using hypnosis. His therapeutic practice will be investigated by the Society for Psychical Research, which will give a favourable report of the results obtained by the magnetiser in cases of alcoholism (Caine, 1907 p. 43). The Society for Psychical Research was founded in England in 1882, although for decades its members had already been individually investigating matters that the Society would subsequently investigate “officially”, such as hypnotism and the mesmeric trance (Crabtree, 1993 p. 270).[24] Although the Society for Psychical Research initially focused on the study of paranormal phenomena in relation to animal magnetism and hypnosis, it also investigated therapeutic practices related to these phenomena, for which it established a protocol to determine when certain therapeutic results could be deemed real and successful or, conversely, when there might be doubts as to their validity (Crabtree, 1993 pp. 272).

In the end, Robert sees Lucy completely cured without having to resort again to animal magnetism or hypnosis, through a strategy that foreshadows the future methods of psychoanalysis. Robert realises that “[d]rink is the great hypnotist” (Caine, 1907 p. 43), meaning that Lucy’s inability to resist alcohol lies in a kind of unconscious “imagination” or “suggestion” in the form of a family curse or hereditary disease that leads her to believe that her fate is to die from drinking (Caine, 1907 p. 43). Having understood this, Robert only has to find a “countersuggestion” that can undermine, neutralise or dissolve the original “suggestion” that has caused Lucy’s condition. To do this, he uses a prophecy made by his dying mother (in which she saw him happily married with children) to “suggest” to Lucy in order to convince her that if she marries him (which she does), her fate will be united with his and she will therefore become a happy wife and mother and will not die from alcoholism. In this way, Lucy overcomes her illness and never drinks again (Caine, 1907 p. 44-51).

CONCLUSIONSTop

As Hilary Grimes (2011: 1) has pointed out, men of science in the late-nineteenth century wrestled with a conflict, both internal and external, between the need to delimit the boundaries of “scientific” knowledge and the curiosity to experiment with other fields which they themselves were expelling to the realms beyond those very boundaries. In this sense, animal magnetism and hypnosis played an essential role in the transformations of medical and scientific authority in late Victorian society (Winter, 1998: 5). I have shown here how certain doctors, after learning hypnosis from stage hypnotists, attempted to legitimise it “scientifically” by forbidding all but trained physicians from practising hypnosis, and their attacks were targeted mainly at those same stage hypnotists; they also sought to dissociate hypnosis and animal magnetism by asserting practical and theoretical distinctions between the two areas (González de Pablo, 2016 pp. 161-165; Guarnieri 1988 pp. 117-138; Hajek 2017 pp. 125-130; Wolffram, 2010 pp. 161-166; Wils 2017 pp. 181-182). On the other hand, as some authors have pointed out (Aliu, 2016 pp. 125-142; Green, 2015 p. 42; Grimes, 2011 pp. 61-66; Harrington, 1998 p. 227), the rise of “scientific” hypnosis in the late nineteenth century was linked to a resurgence in mesmerism, or at least in those more paranormal or “magic” aspects of the trance state. This was nothing new, as according to Betsy van Schlun (2007 p. 8), animal magnetism from its beginnings always had two sides: a physical/ materialist side and a spiritual/mystical side.

In general, mesmeric or hypnotic fiction, treated as a literary subgenre (or genre), tends to present a set of features that can be found in the two novellas analysed in this study: the hypnotist is a male, his hypnotised subject is a female, and hypnosis is invariably presented as a dangerous pursuit. As part of their campaign to legitimise hypnosis, medical hypnotists highlighted and publicised the dangers associated with hypnosis performed by amateurs and stage hypnotists (dangers that included the death or madness of the hypnotised subject, the risk of being made to commit crimes while under hypnosis, or the possibility of suffering sexual abuse during the trance) (Harris, 2009 pp. 477-505), and it is just such dangers that appear in hypnotic fiction (Andriopoulos, 2008 pp. 19-41). This similarity between the discourse of the physicians and that of the writers would be developed in literary fiction through certain clearly-defined hypnotist stereotypes. All of this, which is obvious in Professor Fargo, where magnetism is used to control the Colonel’s daughter, is depicted much more ambiguously in Drink, with its conclusion that if the hypnotist is a good person his influence through the hypnosis can be positive, but if he is not his influence could be diabolical (Caine, 1907 pp. 41). In this regard, in his book Cours pratique d’hypnotisme et de magnétisme (1911) Donato himself offers a list of attributes and moral attitudes that a magnetiser should possess if he wanted to be successful, which amount to the requirement to be a person of impeccable moral character (Donato, 2011 pp. 16-19).

In both texts we are presented with a stage hypnotist or magnetiser whose distinctive feature is a mixture of qualities drawn from other stereotypes and the use of the title “Professor”, a habit which, as noted above, was quite common among those who made a living out of these types of performances. It could thus be concluded that Professor Fargo and Professor La Mothe are paradigmatic examples of the stage hypnotist/magnetiser stereotype in the same sense that Svengali stands as a quintessential example of the stereotype of the villainous hypnotist or the Gothic villain with hypnotic powers. As has been suggested throughout this article, Professor Fargo exhibits unequivocal features of the magnetiser/hypnotist as villain, charlatan or occultist; on the other hand, Professor La Mothe, alongside his status as a stage hypnotist, exhibits the attitude of the “mad scientist” magnetiser/hypnotist who for the good of the subject and in the name of science is willing to take his experiments beyond the limits of what morality and ethics would allow.[25] The main formula for reflecting these issues, apart from the use of the magnetiser/hypnotist stereotype itself as a symbol of the taboo ideas associated with these phenomena (Haynes, 2017 p. 8), is through the main stage tricks that ultimately define the character: Professor Fargo’s dubious contact with spirits or the risks of submitting to a trance state lasting several days in the case of La Mothe.

In short, these are two texts that are markedly different works of literature (in terms of size, style and ambition) but that invoke the same discourse on animal magnetism and hypnosis: as a practice or field of knowledge that can be used to control others; in the case of Professor Fargo, it is a kind of control that is posited as egotistical or even criminal; in the case of Drink it is a therapeutic form of control intended to neutralise a harmful addiction.