©Lars Lorentzon
When I was quite a young boy I spent a lot of my time listening to
elderly people, sitting in a dayroom, talking to each other. I lived in an
institution for elderly people, where my father worked as a director. Men
and women sitting in chairs around a table, doing nothing else but telling
the stories of their lives day after day, week after week, year after
year. I spent a lot of time as a participant observer in these groups.
I loved to be there for two reasons; Firstly, it was the calm. No
stress, no work, no "musts", and not the least, the continuity. It was the
same life every day. . There was always a conversation going on in a small
talk type manner. There were silences but also moments of argue and
quarrel. It happened that people fell asleep for a short while or left the
group for a few minutes. But most of the time they were there, in the
room, participating in the stories that were told. The group made a sharp
contrast to the daily life with all its stress and hurry.
Secondly, it was my fascination for the stories and the way they were
told. I was fascinated by the stories themselves, their contents. But also
of the way they were told, most often with help by the interruptions and
contributions by the other members of the group. In fact, there were a lot
of stories, from all narrators, a web of ongoing narratives, from all
participants, where every story seemed to highlight each and every one of
the other stories. I experienced it as if it was the group who told a
story by the means of its group members. But also, there were
interventions that stopped, or hindered the continuation of the narratives
for a shorter or longer time. This combination of sustaining and
preventing contributions, created a tension.. I was thrilled by all the
winding in the web of narratives and longing for the narrators to reach
the core, to tell the end of all the ongoing stories. The flow of
simultaneous narratives in the group was to me a very exiting world.
It did not take me long to learn the outlines of every person's life
story. This meant that I more or less knew the story they were going to
tell the group. I also learnt the approximated procedure of all those
interacting stories and interventions from different members. I knew which
stories that would be told. The contents and the rituals were known. One
could think that this would be monotonous. But no! It was more like
listening to a fairytale or to read a book you have already read. The
familiarity of it, do not exclude that new thoughts, memories or feelings
are brought to surface. There will always be more or less important
variations. These stories, told over and over again, always changed
slightly somewhere along the course of the narrative. This is what I
think; every one of them was trying to tell the real story, the full and
true story of their lives. And everyone listened in hope of hearing the
real story. I don't think that any such thing as "a true story" exists,
but as an inner fact it does and lies behind our need to share our
stories.
All narratives in a group are created in a field of tensions between
the wish to reveal the truth, and conceal it, a well as the wish to really
hear the story and to protect you of hearing facts that could be hurting.
The good narrative in the group is never a monologue; rather it is
often interrupted by contributing stories from the listeners in form of
"this reminds me of …" and so on. Even for a very young boy it was obvious
that the interrupting story was a method of high lightening something in
the previous story, or it was an interpretation, or a way of helping the
narrator to continue. In my practice as a group analyst I am convinced
that these "interrupting stories" very often redirects or deepen the first
narrative, or its narrator unconsciously. The new story, without the step
of an awareness process, gives him a new starting point for continuation.
This storytelling kind of communication keeps the attention on the ongoing
exchange of experiences instead of focusing the person. I think it is
important in all analytic groups to promote this kind of communication.
In a narrative, nothing resembles a straight line between A and B. What
sometimes is called "straight communication" does not exist in human
narratives. A narrative is more like wandering. Curiosity, engagement,
tension is provoked by this wandering. I think it is precisely this that
makes conversation so important and irresistible. And the fact is, that in
a good narrative neither the listener nor the narrator really know what is
going to be spoken and told. The narrative has its own life. It is a
combination of reporting and creating. When a narrative is told in the
context of a live audience of other narrators who have the possibility and
even a responsibility of taking an active part in the creative process, as
is the fact in the analytic group, this wandering about is very
pronounced. But sometimes it can be difficult to grasp that it also is a
quite rational process to stroll around.
If we look at the interventions, interruptions, made in the group, or
perhaps we could call them communications, the following pattern was
obvious.
The first type is interventions in form of a new story from another
member, a story based on a memory that the first story surfaced or
clarified. These associative stories are often not consciously addressed
to the narrator, but more to the narrative itself. The engagement, the
focus is on the storytelling, the narrating process in the group. When the
first narrator later on continues his story it is often easy to find that
the interrupting narratives has had an influence on what he now tells the
group. The new stories open up new lines. They can broaden, deepen or
concentrate the story.
Concealment, as I have said before is always an inherent part of a
narrative. Without it, there would be no excitement in listening to a
story. I think all interruptions have their roots in a feeling in the
listener, that the story he listens to has some hidden part. This is the
part we seek. We are always listening to the hidden story within the
story. Sometimes the narrator hides consciously, sometimes unconsciously
and sometimes he seems to hide simply because he never thought of, or
realized, some experiences that really made important differences to his
story. I think these "side stories" often are very effective to reveal the
hidden story.
But of course there are other ways in which the listeners can interrupt
and influence the narrative. By questions, comments and reflections that
focus parts, or hidden parts of the story. " Tell me more about this or
that…!"
The next level is when the attention seems to be turned from the actual
story to the narrator. What I refer to is my impression that the members
in the group, the physical persons, experience themselves and each other
in a role of narrators, instead of the person behind the narrative. On
this level we address the narrator. "You always tells us so and so" or
"You never tell us about this or that". This kind of comments seems to
have their focus on the story, or the narrative level even if it is the
person that is addressed. The aim is to encourage the narrator to create a
better, maybe truer story. From my experiences with analytical groups,
this kind of narrator-linked comments can be very useful, because they
open up for the question: why am I telling my story the way I am?
The third level is openly addressed to the person behind the narrative.
In every narrative there is a communication in the here and now embedded.
I told fairy tales to my children when they were young. Often I invented
them in the moment I was telling them. I really enjoyed this and often I
think that the narratives created themselves, I just told them. Sometimes
my children, after hearing a story, asked me: "Why did you tell me that
story?" Confronted by that question I often realized that I had tried to
say something important to my child through the story, but obviously in a
way that was not quite clear or understandable, or maybe too delicately
concealed, provoking anxiety or curiosity or maybe confusion. My reason
for being unclear was my fear of being straightforward, consciously or
unconsciously. I think that it is this ambiguity - when you can not decide
if you are listening to a story from the past, or are addressed as a
person by another person here and now, this forces the group to shift
attention from the level of the narrative to the actual person. In all
narratives there is always a connection between past and present, but
sometimes this connection is so confused that you have to deal with it
more direct and openly.
The difference between the "old peoples group and my analytic groups is
that the former used much more comments of narrative- and narrator- level.
Maybe these old, experienced people, had learnt that there was no idea to
try to change each other, and used no energy on the personal level.
Another difference was that the conversation was so ceremonial, and
repetitive. In the analytic group the variations are greater. But
sometimes I must confess that my analytic groups are just the same as the
old folks group. All narratives are the product of the joint group, the
intense interplay and communications between the group members. If a
person in a group shall be able to produce a narrative that captures and
mirrors his life story, he must get the help of his audience. Every
narrative needs other narratives to be fully told.
In group analysis all members are supposed to tell the stories of their
lives. There is no contradiction between this formulation and the
recommendation to follow the rule of free association, because every
thought, feeling or memory that comes to our minds are always embedded in
a story, perhaps a short story that is a fragment of the life story. For
this reason, an analytic group must create a culture or a climate where
narrating can take place. The most important skill of the analyst is to
promote "a story sharing climate" in the group.
But the member's expectation, when they join the group, is not to find
a place to share life stories. They come for personal change. Because of
this, the attention in the group tends to turn from the story to the
storyteller, the person. I agree with Jim Hume who said that too much
analysis (attention on the personal level) makes the group boring,
withdrawn and narcissistic, and too little does not create awareness. What
I will add is that we as group analysts must have a genuine interest to
listen to narratives and learn as much we can about how to stimulate a
narrating culture and find ways of expressing this in the group. This is
basic! Our knowledge of psychodynamics is of course useful in this
respect; our interpretations and other interventions on the personal level
can liberate the free associations (resistance analysis) and thereby open
up for more general personal self-understanding. But the risk is that we
become too much occupied by the question "Who he is" and loose our
engagement in "What he tells us". I just came to think about a group
experience that may help to exemplify some of what I have talked about. I
had the privilege to attend a small group conducted by Jim Hume a few
years before his death. As I remember it, his comments in the group were
almost always in the form of an own narrative, often narrated with an
emotional ton, not strong but clear. One of the group members was an old
women, a very significant psychoanalyst., still going strong. The stories
she contributed to the group expressed vitality and energy, but this
vitality arouse in me more irritation than interest. I noticed that Jim
seemed to withdraw in a sort of depressive way. Suddenly he said in a
slightly sad tone; "Perhaps I just envy you, but when I listen to you I
came to think about all this young people, who walk's faster than me and
pass me on the sidewalk, it makes me sometimes so sad and envious". In the
end of his story he looked into her eyes and she started to cry. Later on
she tooled us things I still remember. Maybe Jim heard her hidden story,
or just reviled what memories and emotions that in him came to life, when
listening to her but anyhow his narrative contribution opened a door for
her to bring us narratives that we could share fully and wholehearted.
Perhaps my point is that also the group analyst must be a narrator in
the group, not a person who analysis persons who are engaged in a
conversation. The analyst's role is to create a climate where the members
can narrate their life stories, and learn by them about themselves and
life. If the analyst will success he or she must restrict himself or
herself to be just one of the narrators, but who consciously tries to use
he own narratives to promote this narrative learning process in the group.
Let me give you another perspective of the dynamics in the narrative
process. Olof Lagerkranz, a famous Swedish author, has written a book
about Josef Conrad's "The heart of darkness". In this book Conrad tells us
a story about a journey he did to Africa. The narrator in the book is a
"captain Marlow" who tell the story to a small group of men, the crew of a
sailing ship, sitting on the deck, in the dark, in the mouth of the river
Thames, waiting fore the tide to start their journey. While waiting, we
all can listen to Marlow's story. In his book "A journey with the heart of
darkness", Lagerkranz analyses how this narrator, Marlow, sometimes
conceals fact that Conrad want to hid or protect, but not so perfect that
a good reader, as Lagerkrantz get some hints about it. He also shows how
Marlow sometimes reveals facts that Conrad initially not had in mind to
tell. It seems as Conrad could not resist to let Marlow tell some facts
that went beyond what Conrad intended. The story gets its own life.
By the way the story "The heart of Darkness" could have been written in
many ways. Conrad chose the form of a narrator telling a story to a live
audience. This is ingenious because through identification the reader
finds himself sitting in the circle, listening to captain Marlow. This
creates that special tension which we meet in the live group. Many times I
have thought that the narratives told in the group, if they had been told
in another setting, which they often have, they could be completely
uninteresting or even boring. But told in the group they arouse
excitement, engagement and reflections. It is the frame, the circle and
the aim, the serious engagement to be honest and truthful about the
experiences of life, which creates this kind of culture. It awakes a deep
interest in human life.
There is a major difference between "listening to a report" and to
really "share a narrative". Sharing means that we get caught and absorbed
by the narrative. It somehow invades us, becomes a part of us and starts a
process in us. Memories, thoughts and feelings within us come to life. It
seems as a paradox; when a story really absorbs us, we also find
ourselves! I Swedish language we have a word for this - "inlevelse", which
literally, translated would be "inlivingness". It is close to the germen
word "einfuhlen". This kind of sharing means that the shared narrative
give birth to a narrative in the listener that in its turn will be
expressed and perhaps this new narrative opens up new paths fore the first
narrative. In the long run, in the group, that all the shared narratives
in a way creates a group narrative.
We often compare group analysis with psychoanalysis. We should not,
because I think it is two quite different realities, at least from the
perspective of narratives and narrators. It is quite a different thing to
tell all the stories of your life - from the earliest memories to the
present experiences in the here and now group - to a live audience of
other storytellers invited to engage and participate in the matrix of
shared narratives. In psychoanalysis the narratives are just means to
understand a person. It is a clinical process where the analyst must
restrict himself to analyze the patient, not involve in spontaneous
communication, like that of a group. All the stories that come to life in
the analyst must be used, and transformed to comments that illuminate the
patient or the relationship between them.
Hindrances
I think group psychotherapy has one of its important roots or origin in
an old tradition of spending time together in small groups, being together
just for the sake of sharing experiences. We needed all the narratives,
because this was the only way to learn about life. The narrating process
was a necessity for learning and living. There were no other channels of
information.
In the old peoples group, all of the members had lived in a society
where oral tradition had long since been established. In the institution
those days there was just one radio, and one piece of newspaper. You had
to talk; you had to listen if you just could not live strictly within
yourself. But I must add; even if the sharing of experiences was necessary
it was obvious that people in a deep meaning enjoyed this conversation.
In this respect, life of today is quite different. Our main narrators
are media of all kinds. The small groups nowadays meet in front of the TV.
We love the forever-ongoing narratives of the show Dallas. We listen to
narratives from media strangers many hours per day. And they are perhaps
even more stereotypic compared to the stories told by the old folks group.
We learn to listen to narratives, not to talk or cooperate with narrators.
You can se the result in all conferences!
I think this is the reason why small group communication nowadays often
holds some characteristics of simply killing time. The conversation "man
to man" seems not at all necessary; at least this is what we consciously
think. When you nowadays contribute with a story of your own in a small
group it must be either a good story (narcissistic) or something very
important or serious.
Members that nowadays form analytic groups have only tradition and
legacy from killing time's groups. This means two things; it is difficult
to promote group therapy as a way of improving mental health and that it
takes a lot of time for the members to find that they really possess
personal stories of their own to tell, stories that they find that the
others want to hear and even need to hear. When groups come this far,
members find it a privilege to belong to them. But the tradition of today,
do not support group conversation. Modern man has forgotten that a living
group is a genius narrator!
Another hindrance is the therapeutic expectations which combined with
the lack of oral tradition very strongly, also in groups, tend to focus
the attention more to what the people are in a psychological sense than
what they tell. They want to be treated, not heard. They think they must
treat rather than listen. The only narratives that seem relevant are their
case stories and medical history. . These expectation and ambitions are
valuable to a certain extent to create a therapeutic culture, but we must
learn to deal with it, somehow help the members to find out that they have
a lot of important stories, that might seem irrelevant and beyond the hard
work of psychotherapy, which the free association rule can help them to
find and later tell. The real therapeutic change come when you start to
tell your own stories. But also this is a slow process. To some extent the
process can be speeded up, by working in semi-slow open groups.
The last hindrance is the fact that we have deliberately put group
analysis in the realm of medical treatment - diagnosis, journals and so
forth. This puts heavy stress on the persons, the participants, not the
least on the analyst. This is serious! We write it down! Other people
might read it! All financiers needs result reports. It promotes too much
self-awareness, and dependence! The play, and enjoyment, the fun in the
living conversation has no place here. We seem to be far away from the
sailing boat on the Thames or the dayroom where the group had the time to
create the full and true story. But everyone's real story needs all this
to be told. What space is left for a transitional area where true stories
can be told?
By the way, what is that true story I refer to? I think the true story
starts when a person suddenly finds that he has something to tell,
something he must tell the group. Not as a part of a pastime, but from
necessity. When he starts to tell this story, all kinds of concealing
activities starts as well. By the help of the others interventions he
returns to the head tracks and sooner or later, often much, much later, he
approaches the end. In this end there is not only a story we fully
understand and share, a story that come to mean something new for the
whole group. It's a brand new story of life, new for everyone, even the
person who told it, but a lot of emotions... Narrating and living meet,
and the people become individuals in a community. In these moments one can
feel that the group give birth to life, through all kind of emotions -
crying and laughing, fear and hope. The experience goes far beyond our
image of a treatment method.
I think all of you know what I talk about, but I am afraid that no one
of us could describe it in a paper or an essay, at least not in a medical
journal.