Not too long ago, I found myself sitting before an audi ence at a prominent university, unexpectedly having to give an academic speech for which I had not been prepared. Having presented a paper on Holocaust literature and trauma at a conference the day before, I had been asked to meet with grad uate students the following day to discuss informally my recent book on hysteria? the subject of my writings for over a decade? and its relation to my current interest in Holocaust trauma. On my way to meet with the students the following morning, I came face to face with a poster advertising this meeting:" From Hysteria to Trauma," it read, and so I discovered much to my dismay that a phrase I had casually dropped was now a title indicating a formal presentation. In other words, I was expected to" speak" rather than" talk"? a distinction that is by no means small. Although I had good reason to be apprehensive? from my past experience I knew I might symptomaticaily perform hysteria rather than speak about it, might, for example, suddenly lose my voice or feel that numbing mind-paralysis that is a hallmark of hysterical anxiety? I yielded to the circumstance and, swallowing my apprehension, stepped into a pleasant, thickly carpeted, wood-paneled room, smelled the coffee, spotted the bagels, and took my seat at the head of a polished seminar table, surrounded by friendly, expec tant faces.