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Meeeeeeeeeee!
On Wednesdays at the Princeton Graduate College, various people would come in to give talks. The speakers were often interesting, and in the
discussions after the talks we used to have a lot of fun. For instance, one guy in our school was very strongly anti-Catholic, so he passed out
questions in advance for people to ask a religious speaker, and we gave the speaker a hard time.
Another time somebody gave a talk about poetry. He talked about the structure of the poem and the emotions that come with it; he divided
everything up into certain kinds of classes. In the discussion that came afterwards, he said, "Isn't that the same as in mathematics, Dr. Eisenhart?"
Dr. Eisenhart was the dean of the graduate school and a great professor of mathematics. He was also very clever. He said, "I'd like to know what
Dick Feynman thinks about it in reference to theoretical physics." He was always putting me on in this kind of situation.
I got up and said, "Yes, it's very closely related. In theoretical physics, the analog of the word is the mathematical formula, the analog of the
structure of the poem is the interrelationship of t he theoretical bling-bling with the so-andso"--and I went through the whole thing, making a perfect
analogy. The speaker's eyes were
beaming
with happiness.
Then I said, "It seems to me that no matter
what
you say about poetry, I could find a way of making up an analog with
any
subject, just as I did
for theoretical physics. I don't consider such analogs meaningful."
In the great big dining hall with stained-glass windows, where we always ate, in our steadily deteriorating academic gowns, Dean Eisenhart
would begin each dinner by saying grace in Latin. After dinner he would often get up and make some announcements. One night Dr. Eisenhart got up
and said, "Two weeks from now, a professor of psychology is coming to give a talk about hypnosis. Now, this professor thought it would be much
better if we had a real demonstration of hypnosis instead of just talking about it. Therefore he would like some people to volunteer to be hypnotized.
I get all excited: There's no question but that I've got to find out about hypnosis. This is going to he terrific!
Dean Eisenhart went on to say that it would be good if three or four people would volunteer so that the hypnotist could try them out first to see
which ones would be able to be hypnotized, so he'd like to urge very much that we apply for this. (
He's wasting all this time
, for God's sake!)
Eisenhart was down at one end of the hall, and I was way down at the other end, in the back. There were hundreds of guys there. I knew that
everybody was going to want to do this, and I was terrified that he wouldn't see me because I was so far back. I just had to get in on this
demonstration!
Finally Eisenhart said, "And so I would like to ask if there are going to be any volunteers . . ."
I raised my hand and shot out of my seat, screaming as loud as I could, to make sure that he would hear me: "MEEEEEEEEEEE!"
He heard me all right, because there wasn't another soul. My voice reverberated throughout the hall--it was very embarrassing. Eisenhart's
immediate reaction was, "Yes, of course, I knew
you
would volunteer, Mr. Feynman, but I was wondering if there would be anybody
else
."
Finally a few other guys volunteered, and a week before the demonstration the man came to practice on us, to see if any of us would be good for
hypnosis. I knew about the phenomenon, but I didn't know what it was like to be hypnotized.
He started to work on me and soon I got into a position where he said, "You can't open your eyes."
I said to myself, "I bet I
could
open my eyes, but I don't want to disturb the situation: Let's see how much further it goes." It was an interesting
situation: You're only slightly fogged out, and although you've lost a little bit, you're pretty sure you could open your eyes. But of course, you're not
opening your eyes, so in a sense you can't do it.
He went through a lot of stuff and decided that I was pretty good.
When the real demonstration came he had us walk on stage, and he hypnotized us in front of the whole Princeton Graduate College. This time
the effect was stronger; I guess I had learned how to become hypnotized. The hypnotist made various demonstrations, having me do things that I
couldn't normally do, and at the end he said that after I came out of hypnosis, instead of returning to my seat directly, which was the natural way to
go, I would walk all the way around the room and go to my seat from the back.
All through the demonstration I was vaguely aware of what was going on, and cooperating with the things the hypnotist said, but this time I
decided, "Damn it, enough is enough! I'm gonna go straight to my seat."
When it was time to get up and go off the stage, I started to walk straight to my seat. But then an annoying feeling came over me: I felt so
uncomfortable that I couldn't continue. I walked all the way around the hall.
I was hypnotized in another situation some time later by a woman. While I was hypnotized she said, "I'm going to light a match, blow it out, and
immediately touch the back of your hand with it. You will feel no pain."
I thought, "Baloney!" She took a match, lit it, blew it out, and touched it to the back of my hand. It felt slightly warm. My eyes were closed
throughout all of this, but I was thinking, "That's easy. She lit one match, but touched a different match to my hand. There's nothin' to
that
; it's a
fake!"
When I came out of the hypnosis and looked at the back of my hand, I got the biggest surprise: There was a burn on the back of my hand. Soon a
blister grew, and it never hurt at all, even when it broke.
So I found hypnosis to be a very interesting experience. All the time you're saying to yourself, "I could do that, but I won't"--which is just
another way of saying that you can't.
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