A psychiatric resident tossed in his sweaty bed in the on-call room while a few hundred yards away a young woman was clinging naked to a barbaric window grill in the summer night. "I love yo-o-o-ou, Dr. Titchener; I love yo-o-o-ou," she wailed like a banshee through the campus of the city hospital and into the open window of the on-call room.
Such deep-going, spiritual experiences are commonplace for those who try psychotherapy of the psychotic. The treatment of this patient was insensitive, unsupervised, unskilled, and unsuccessful. Clarence Schulz and Rose Kilgalen show us how it can be done more clearly and thoroughly than I have ever seen it written. They do not make it sound easy, and they are not therapeutic heroes whipping off great untestable interpretations which nobody else would dare try. Schulz's comments to his patients are really so often lowkey and just psychodynamically sensible that one