Post on 03-May-2023
1
On doing being normal: An ethnomethodological analysis of dream telling in two interactional
contexts
by
Lorraine Locke
Submitted for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy
Department of Sociology Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences
University of Surrey
Supervisors:
Doctor Robert Meadows and Doctor Venetia Evergeti
©Lorraine Locke 2021
2
Declaration of Originality
This thesis and the work to which it refers are the results of my own efforts. Any ideas,
data, images, or text resulting from the work of others (whether published or
unpublished) are fully identified as such within the work and attributed to their
originator in the text, bibliography or in footnotes. This thesis has not been submitted in
whole or in part for any other academic degree or professional qualification. I agree that
the University has the right to submit my work to the plagiarism detection service
TurnitinUK for originality checks. Whether or not drafts have been so assessed, the
University reserves the right to require an electronic version of the final document (as
submitted) for assessment as above.
Signature: L. Locke Date: 30th November 2021
Abstract
Despite their ubiquity as shared social phenomena, limited sociological attention has
been given to dreams. Moreover, where dreams have been considered, there is a tendency
3
to treat the talk that is generated in dream telling settings as a resource from which
analytical and theoretical claims are made, rather than perceiving it as a topic in its own
right. Furthermore, the sociological literature tends to treat culture as being reflected in
dreams. The thesis remedies these problems by treating talk about dreams, collected in
interviews about dreams, and interviews about sleep and recovery, as its central
phenomenon. It combines conversation analysis (CA) and membership categorisation
analysis (MCA) to examine the sequential and categorial practices members of these
settings use to produce, negotiate, and manage representations of self. The thesis aims to
further develop the trajectory of work that brings CA and MCA together. It shows how
participants ‘police’ the boundaries between the dreaming and waking world by using
newly identified contrast structures that are produced to describe the facticity of dreamt
events and to display normative identities when dreamt and waking selves have been
breached. By showing how identity is worked up both sequentially and categorially, it
illustrates an overriding concern with morality and culture. Furthermore, it shows that
culture is not reflected in dreams, rather, it is displayed in and through talk about them.
The thesis makes important contributions to the sociology of sleep and dreams; it makes
links between addiction, recovery, and identity, which opens potential new lines of
enquiry. It also contributes to CA/MCA research on qualitative research interviews by
showing how interviewer (IR) and interviewee (IE) identities are negotiated on a
moment-by-moment, occasion-by-occasion basis. Overall, it shows being normal is
accomplished in these situated contexts.
4
Acknowledgements
I would like to extend my sincere gratitude to my principal supervisor Rob for his continuing
support throughout this very lengthy process. His unwavering encouragement has kept me
motivated during some difficult times and it is genuinely the case that this thesis would not have
happened without your ongoing interest, dedication, commitment - and tenacity. Thank you!
Thank you also to Venetia, your input to the project has also kept me motivated, but more than
that your methodological insights have made me a much better analyst.
Thanks are also due to Sarah Nettleton, Joanne Neale and Rob Meadows, for the generous loan of
the sleep data.
I also extend my gratitude to the research participants, as this study would not have been possible
without them. Thanks are also due to the ESRC for funding this thesis.
My love and gratitude are due to Emma, Charlotte, Vincent, Rebecca and James, who have all, in
various ways, made the journey with me.
Simon, what can I say? Thank you, thank you, thank you, for endless cups of tea, thesis chats,
critical observations, pep talks, encouragement and praise - and for telling me to just get on with
it and providing time to do so by doing all the ‘housewifely’ activities! Thank you for being beside
me through the highs and the lows. There are no words – well, except for those ones...
Thanks also to Liz Stokoe and Paul Hodkinson for comments made in the viva, this is a much
improved thesis as a result of that discussion.
Last but by no means least, this is for my mum and dad who would no doubt be ‘bursting with
pride’ if they were here!
5
Table of contents
Page(s)
Declaration of originality 2
Abstract 3
Acknowledgements 4
Table of contents 5 - 7
Chapter One: What’s the problem with sociological research on dreams?
1.1. Introduction 8 - 10
1.2. Outline of the empirical problem 11 - 13
1.3. Methodology 13 - 14
1.4. Thesis aims and research questions 14 – 15
1.5. The data 15
1.6. Structure of the thesis 15 - 19
1.7. Summary 19
Chapter two: Literature review
2.1. Introduction 20
2.2. Chapter aims 20 - 23
2.3. The sociology of sleep and its neglect of dreams 23 - 28
2.4. The impact of using dreams on recovery from substance use 29 - 33
2.5. The constitution of recovery narratives 33 - 37
2.6. The sociology of dreams 37 - 49
2.6.1. Ethnomethodological studies of dreams 49 - 53
2.7. Summary 54
Chapter Three: Data and Methods
3.1. Introduction 55 - 56
3.2. Data collection 56 - 58
3.3. The interview schedules 58 - 62
3.4. Ethical considerations 62 - 64
3.5. Ethnomethodology: some features of practical sociological reasoning 65 - 66
3.5.1. Ethnomethodologically informed approaches to sampling 66 - 69
3.5.2. Reflexivity and Indexicality 69 - 71
6
3. 5.3. Social context 71 - 72
3.5.4. Accountability in social interaction 72 - 73
3.5.5. The documentary method of interpretation and the case of Agnes 73 - 78
3.6. Conversation analysis 78 - 81
3.7. Membership categorisation analysis 81 - 83
3.7.1. Combining conversation and membership categorisation analysis 83 - 85
3.7.2 A practical example of how CA and MCA can be brought together 83 - 93
3. 8. A step-by-step approach to generating analytical features 94 - 96
3.9. Problems with qualitative interviewing from a CA perspective 96 - 101
3.10. Summary 101 - 102
Chapter four: The interactional production of recovery identities
4.1. Introduction 103 - 105
4.2. A categorial analysis of a recovery narrative 106 - 110
4.3. An empirical analysis of questions and responses about using dreams 110 - 123
4.4. The ‘I was doing X cos Y’ device 123 - 134
4.5. Summary 134 - 136
Chapter Five: Using contrast structures when accounting for dreams
5.1. Introduction 137 - 139
5.2. ‘I was dreaming of doing X but Y’ contrast device 139 - 158
5.3. Category out of bounds activities (COBAs) 158 - 170
5.4. Chapter summary 170 - 171
Chapter Six: Using stance practices to manage identity
6.1. Introduction 171 - 173
6.2. Using stance to shift accountability for dreamt actions 174 - 181
6.3. Adopting a stance by using knowledge claims 181 - 192
6.4. Using stance practices to manage the interview 192 - 201
6.5. Summary 201 - 203
Chapter 7. Discussion and conclusions
7.1. Introduction 204 - 205
7.2. Significance of the thesis 205
7.3. Thesis summary 206 - 220
7
7.4. How I addressed the thesis aims and research questions 220 - 223
7.5. Strengths of the thesis 223 - 224
7.6. Limitations of the thesis 225
7.7. Contributions of the thesis 225 - 226
7.8. Directions for future research 226 - 227
7.9. Concluding statement 227 - 229
Section Eight: References 230 - 247
Section Nine: Appendices
9.1. Appendix A: Sample consent form, dream dataset 248
9.2. Appendix B: Sample consent form, sleep dataset 249
9.3. Appendix C: Information sheet, dream dataset 250
9.4. Appendix D: Information sheet, sleep dataset 251 - 253
9.5. Appendix E: Interview schedule, dream dataset 254
9.6. Appendix F: Interview schedule, sleep dataset 255 - 258
9.7. Appendix G: Jefferson transcription notation 259 - 260
9.9. Appendix H: Thesis Extracts 261 - 273
8
Chapter one: What’s the problem with sociological research on dreams?
“If the sociology of emotions was a distinct contribution of sociology in the 1980s,
perhaps by the end of the Millennium, dreams will have a well-recognized place in the
body and mind of the sociological imagination.” (Fine and Fischer Leighton 1993:104)
“For Kant, the moral order “within” was an awesome mystery; for sociologists, the moral
order “without” is a technical mystery. From the point of view of sociological theory, the
moral order consists of the rule governed activities of everyday life. A society’s members
encounter and know the moral order as perceivedly normal courses of action-familiar
scenes of everyday affairs, the world of daily life known in common with others and with
others taken for granted.” (Garfinkel 1967: 35)
1.1. Introduction The issues reflected in the two quotations above are central to this thesis. The first point
is that despite the ambition by Fine and Fischer Leighton for dreams to have a central
place within sociology, this is still not the case over twenty years after the end of the
previous Millennium. With respect to the second quote, the focus within this thesis is on
the rules that ordinary members of the social world use to produce, negotiate and make
sense of the moral order as it is constituted through the telling of dreams. In this respect
these experiences are not treated as subjective internal encounters, but rather as socially
produced, intersubjectively recognisable and intelligible events that exist outside of the
individual mind, as produced in mundane talk about them. The issue for the thesis is to
empirically demonstrate how the “moral order without” is constituted in and through the
interactional methods that are used in two interviews settings, which I introduce below.
9
Dreams are anomalous phenomena that remain subject to speculation and a lack of
consensus relative to their classification (Sacks 1992), despite the multiplicitous
interpretations relating to their meanings, functions and uses in socio-cultural and
historical contexts including professional research settings. This lack of agreement has
led to consideration of both epistemological and ontological questions about their status
and meaning, in terms of what is known about them and how to make sense of them. For
example, are they experienced during waking or sleeping states; are they imaginary or
real; do they tell us something about the present, past, or even future and how do we
make sense of them in terms of brain function, or an individual’s emotional or
psychological state? Hilbert (2010) argues that these questions have underpinned all
research on dreams to date. For example, psychoanalysts have emphasised their
symbolic, embodied, and emotional character (Freud 1900, Strachey 1953; Jung 1970);
philosophers have considered them in terms of conscious action (Ferensczi 2010);
anthropologists have stressed their magical, public, and prophetic qualities (Malinowski
1925; Bascombe 1983) and in mythology dreams are constructed as powerful predictive
media shaped by divine entities (Wiseman 2011).
Dreams have been used metaphorically to convey messages with political meanings
(Luther King 2009); they serve as the basis for understanding people’s ‘states of mind’ in
therapeutic contexts (Hill 2004); and they have been topicalised in countless poems, love
songs, and literary works. Subsequently, it is fair to say that dreams have widespread
social currency, which raises a question about why there has been only the most
restricted sociological interest in them. While an attempt was made to develop a
‘sociology of dreams’ (Fine and Fisher Leighton 1993), studies remain limited in this field.
Within sociology, they have been conceptualised as shared discourses that are used to
10
entertain others, that provide evidence of intersubjectivity, that are constrained by social
rules, that can be perceived as illuminating concerns with culture and evolution,
spirituality, social structures, gender, the mass media, and caring and rhetoric (Fine and
Fisher Leighton 1993; Caughey 1984; Hufford 1982; Vester 1993; Vann and Alperstein
1994, 1995 and 1997, 2000; Wunder 1993, Wagner-Pacifici and Bershady 1993).
However, in these studies dreams have been theorised as if participants’ dream content
is transparently available to analysts, yet the only data available to study dreams is
people’s talk about them.
Therefore, Hilbert (2010) proposes that the sociology of dreams could be extended by
undertaking research that treats people’s accounts of their dreams as the topic for
analysis in its own right. Since Hilbert argued for such an approach, three conversation
analytical studies have been undertaken in the situated context of psychotherapeutic
sessions, which have examined the accounting practices of both clients and therapists
(Bergmann and Perakyla 2014, Adler 2016, Perakyla and Bergmann 2020). Furthermore,
one discourse analytical study of dream reports on a dream forum has been undertaken
(Bardina 2021). This empirical research has started to address the issue, but there is still
a void to be filled.
Against this backdrop, this thesis has several aims and research questions that will be
outlined in this chapter. Firstly, I describe the empirical problem that the thesis aims to
address. Secondly, I explain the methodology that will be used to analyse the data, which
will be discussed more fully in chapter three. Thirdly, I introduce the research questions
and aims. Fourth, I describe the data that will be analysed, and finally I provide an outline
of the thesis on a chapter-by-chapter basis.
11
1.2. Outline of the empirical problem
Despite Fine and Fischer Leighton’s (1993) desire for dreams to become well recognised
within sociology, according to Hall, (1997), Nell (2014) Hilbert (2010) and Williams
(2002, 2005, 2011), dream related research has been and remains marginalised. This is
even the case when dream research is compared to the emergent literature in the
sociology of sleep that has developed since around the turn of the Millennium. Indeed, to
date, the only sociological research/commentary on dreams is limited to the work cited
above, which will be critically evaluated in chapter two relative to the study aims and
research questions. There has been a sustained interest in dreams in other social
scientific research contexts, but within sociology the study of dreams is considered to
have been ‘psychologised’ and ‘anthropologised’ (Nell 2014, Hilbert 2010). Furthermore,
according to Nell (2014: 123), “virtually any introductory text of sociology reveals a
complete absence of any substantive references to dreams [and] even among more
specialized sociological literature, only the scantest of attention seems to be paid to these
nightly phenomena.”
In addition to the lack of sociological research on dreams, a more fundamental concern
for this thesis is the way data are treated in research settings. In most cases, apriori
theories are applied to data which reifies and prioritises the researcher’s categories over
and above the participants’ own use of categories (Watson 2015). Additionally, data are
under-analysed as selected quotations are used that resonate with the analysts’
predetermined agenda. Moreover, data are routinely extracted from the surrounding talk
that is produced by both analysts and their participants, so their respective
commonsense understandings and meanings routinely get left behind in the unexamined
talk (Antaki et al. 1993).
12
I contend that these practices are empirically reductionist as they obscure not only the
commonsense reasoning and other methods that are invoked by research participants to
produce talk about dreams, but also those that are used by professional researchers who
co-construct the data in situated interactional contexts (Baker 2002, Rapley 2015,
Roulston 2016). This is considered here to be an oversight, as the methods that are used
to account for dreams have been obscured (notable exceptions are Bergmann and
Perakyla 2014, 2020, Adler 2016, and Bardina 2021). Zimmerman and Pollner (1970)
refer to this as a topic resource issue, whereby analysts treat data as a resource from
which they can make all manner of claims, whereas if the talk is treated as the
phenomena, it can be viewed as a topic in its own right and the focus is on the
interactional methods that are produced in situated interactional contexts. This allows
analysts to explore how the settings themselves are talked into being, which Hester and
Eglin (1997) refer to as observing ‘culture in action’.
The thesis takes up Hilbert’s (2010) proposal to examine the way people talk about their
dreams as its central concern. The key focus is to examine the use of members’ methods
(Garfinkel 1967) in both interviews about dreams and interviews about sleep and
recovery from drug and alcohol use, to see if it is possible to empirically demonstrate how
such talk gets worked up interactionally. Therefore, it makes a departure from the
majority of conventional sociological studies of dreams including those that have used
thematic analyses (Nell 2014, Wunder 1993, Vann and Alperstein, 1997, 2000);
discourse/documentary analysis (Wagner–Pacifici and Bershady 1993, Bardina 2021)
and sociological research that has examined the historical meanings and functions of
dreams (Vester 1993, Williams 2011). These studies have been useful for contributing to
sociological understandings about dreams. There have also been some empirical studies
13
using conversation analysis (Bergmann and Perakyla 2014, Perakyla and Bergmann
2020, Adler 2016); one theoretical paper that considers ethnomethodological questions
(Hilbert 2010), which have shaped my thinking, and a discourse analysis of dream texts
extracted from a dream forum (Bardina 2021). While the latter set useful precedents for
the thesis, I aim to move the research forward by using an innovative analytical approach
to study the interview data.
To be clear, my concern is not about how other kinds of methodological approaches have
been used, or what theoretical concerns have been highlighted, but rather, it is about the
lack of research on talk, which I consider as providing the building blocks for producing
and making sense of everyday life (Garfinkel 1967, Sacks 1992). My aim is to contribute
to sociological knowledge by extending upon the empirical work described above. This
will be accomplished by using a methodology that has not, to the best of my knowledge,
previously been employed to examine talk about dreams.
1.3. Methodology
My original aim was to use conversation analysis (CA) and membership categorisation
analysis (MCA) (Sacks 1992) to examine the sequential and categorial practices that
people use to account for dreams and to identify the sociological phenomena that are
rendered accountable for dreamt actions. In sum, the intended outcome was to draft a
thesis about ‘dream telling’ which is a term coined by (Hilbert 2010). As the analysis
unfolded, however, its focus adapted to incorporate not only the methods used for
specifically talking about dreams, but also the categorial practices that are mobilised for
the production of recovery narratives, and the rhetorical methods that are routinely used
to manage the interview settings. Because these methods were made relevant in the data,
14
I became equally concerned with the methods used to produce and manage the
interactional contexts in which the talk was co-produced. Subsequently this thesis has
one overarching aim and three research questions. Coming back to Garfinkel’s (1967:8)
reference to the ‘moral order without as a technical mystery’ in the quotation above, this
thesis focusses upon the taken for granted, tacit, routinely invoked commonsense
methods that members of two interview settings use in interactions about dreams to
display that order.
1.4. Thesis aims and research questions
To address the empirical problem, I have described, the thesis has one overarching aim,
which is to extend what is known about the way people account for and make sense of
their dreams in these interview settings. It also has three research questions, as follows:
i) What members’ methods are used by participants in these two interactional contexts
to account for dreams and recovery?
ii) What are those methods used to accomplish in situ?
iii) How is identity produced and oriented towards by interviewers and interviewees?
The analysis for the thesis will proceed by asking, ‘why this here?’ (Sacks 1992). By ‘this,’
I mean why this category, or word, or formulation, or use of pronoun, or mobilisation of
other features of talk-in-interaction such as laughter, pauses, silences, and so on, at any
specific point in the interaction. The reason ethnomethodologists ask these questions is
because the use of words, pauses and so on, are treated as observable and reportable
actions that accomplish something within a piece of interaction (Garfinkel 1967, Sacks
1992). That is, they constitute the ordinary technical methods that people use to interact
with one another on a turn by turn, moment by moment basis. Using such methods people
15
produce, negotiate, make sense of, and arrive at mutual understandings about the world
known in common (Sack et al. 1974, Schegloff 2007a).
1.5. The data
Data were gathered in two interactional contexts. One set was gathered in interviews for
a study of dream telling, the other dataset comprises interviews with people in recovery
from drug and alcohol use and explores the relationship between sleep and recovery
(Meadows et al., 2017, Nettleton et al., 2017). Given that the data for this thesis are from
interviews and can be perceived as institutional, the aims of the thesis and final research
questions reflect this. Having described the data, I now outline the organisation of the
thesis.
1.6. Structure of the thesis
In addition to this chapter, the thesis is divided into six further chapters. Chapter two
comprises the literature review, in which I make a case for why ethnomethodology is such
a compelling and necessary approach for studying talk about dreams. More specifically, I
discuss why combining CA and MCA provides a more robust methodology than previous
ethnomethodologically oriented research on dreams. I start by reviewing the sociology
of sleep literature to show that a limited amount of attention has been given to dreams
and even where they are considered, they are ultimately construed as psychological
phenomena. I then review the general addiction and recovery literature to highlight the
work that has recently emerged in relation to the functions of ‘using dreams’ for people
in recovery from substance use. Furthermore, in the addiction and recovery literature
there is a general focus on gaining better understandings of how ‘using dreams’ might
16
help or hinder recovery. This is a critical issue from a conventional sociological
perspective, but more specifically for the thesis as some of the data I will be analysing
were gathered for the sociological research on sleep and recovery. So, having a
background understanding of these concerns will be helpful for making sense of the
identity work that is produced by participants in the sleep dataset. After reviewing the
addiction and recovery literature, I review the sociology of sleep and recovery literature,
which emphasises the identity work that is involved for people in recovery as they move
from being a ‘user’ to ‘getting clean.’ Following this, I review the general sociology of
dreams literature, as well as the ethnomethodologically informed work on dreams. This
includes empirical studies that have used CA and a discursive approach to examine the
methods that are used to describe dreams in two different interactional contexts. I
conclude the chapter by making a case for using an analytical approach that combines CA
and MCA to examine the two datasets that will be analysed in this thesis (interviews about
dreams and interviews about sleep and recovery), which will be discussed in the
following chapter.
In chapter three, the data and methods chapter, I begin by explaining the data collection
process, following which I discuss the interview schedules and then consider sampling
processes from a CA perspective to show differences between the way they are perceived
in conventional sociology. I then highlight key concerns relating to ethics and consent,
following which I consider how I approached the data analysis on a step-by-step basis. I
also discuss the practicalities of combining CA and MCA and provide a worked analysis of
an extract from the sleep and recovery research that I critically evaluated in chapter two.
Following this, I discuss the key concepts in ethnomethodology (EM), CA and MCA, and
17
finally, I consider some of the issues that can arise when conducting and analysing
qualitative interviews in ethnomethodological research.
In chapter four, the first of the empirical chapters, I begin by reanalysing an extract from
research conducted by McIntosh and McKeganey (2000), which I critically evaluate in
chapter two. I re-analyse the extract and show that their participant, Helen, uses a two
part contrast device that I refer to as the ‘I was doing X cos Y device,’ to structure her
account. In the second section of the chapter, I continue to focus on how identity is
oriented towards by interviewers (IRs) and interviewees (IEs) as morally accountable by
examining extracts from the sleep dataset. Orientations to identity are invoked in relation
to the interview setting by both IRs and IEs and also in relation to accounts about having
‘using dreams.’ In the final section of chapter four, I show that the participants in the sleep
dataset also use the ‘I was doing X cos Y’ contrast device. The first part is used to describe
changes to the quality or quantity of their dreams and the second part is used to attribute
a cause to those changes. By using the contrast structure, they also undermine their
previous ‘user’ identity and foreground their recovery identities as normal.
In chapter five, the second of the empirical chapters, I demonstrate two additional types
of contrast structure that are used to inoculate against the potential for undesired
responses when dream content is morally implicative, or to downgrade the significance
of culturally incompatible dream content. I start by examining what I refer to as the ‘I was
dreaming of doing X but Y’ two-part contrast structure and show that participants use the
first part when accounting for dream content and the second part to deflect
accountability for the content. In the second section of the chapter, I show how IEs orient
towards the culturally inappropriate behaviours of people (including self) in their
18
dreams by using what I refer to as category out of bounds activities (COBAs). The method
is used to make it explicit that attributes of members in specific categories are culturally
‘out of bounds’ with the normative expectations for members of these groups. By using
COBAs, dream tellers untie themselves from the activities in the dreams, relative to their
out-of-boundness.
In chapter six, the final empirical chapter, I focus on stance-making and stance-taking
practices, whereby parties to talk-in-interaction adopt a position towards a prior piece of
talk, and show how they are used by both IEs and IRs to take, resist or reclaim a turn. I
begin by examining how participants accounting for a specific dreamt event shift
accountability by using personal pronouns to move the focus from self to a generalised
other, person or object. In the second section, I examine the production of knowledge
claims that orient towards a morality of knowledge (Stivers et al 2011), and in the final
section I focus on how a participant from the sleep data uses stance practices to take the
floor and resist the IR’s attempts to reclaim it.
In chapter seven, the concluding chapter, I begin by explaining the significance of the
thesis. I then provide a summary of the thesis chapters, in which I discuss the empirical
findings in relation to the literature review and salient concerns that were discussed in
chapter three relating to data and methods. Following this, I briefly consider how I have
addressed the thesis aims and research questions. I then move on to discuss the thesis
strengths and limitations, contributions it has made for CA, MCA, research interviews and
the sociology of sleep and recovery, and the sociology of dreams. Finally, I consider
directions for future research, and then provide a concluding statement.
19
Throughout the empirical and concluding chapters, I show that the overriding concern
for both IRs and IEs is to display their normative identities by presenting themselves as
morally and culturally aware of how to conduct themselves in the situated interview
context. This identity work is accomplished through their representation’s self, in
relation to the question-and-answer sequences and the categories they use to produce
the setting. For IEs, additional identity work is displayed through the use of methods that
directly orient towards the moral and socio-cultural order which they produce to
distance themselves from either their dream content, if it breaches cultural norms, or
their previous user identity. In all instances, both IEs and IRs ‘do being normal’ (Sacks
1992). The thesis moves beyond prior empirical work on dreams by highlighting the
inextricable relationship between identity, morality, and the cultural order, which is
produced through the talk.
1.7. Summary
In the previous chapter, I outlined the research aims, questions, data, methodology and
the structure of the thesis. I argued that research on dreams has largely been neglected
within sociology and identified a problem with the way data are treated, both analytically
and conceptually in most of the research on dreams. I argued that the overarching
concern of the thesis and relates to a topic/resource issue (Zimmerman and Pollner
1970), whereby participants’ data are treated as analysts’ resources rather than topics of
study in and of themselves. I suggested that this problem can be addressed by using an
ethnomethodologically inspired approach that combines CA and MCA to study interview
talk about dreams and talk about sleep, dreams, and recovery as a topic in its own right
(Hilbert 2010).
20
Chapter two: A review of the literature on sleep, dreams, and recovery 2.1. Introduction
In the previous chapter, I outlined the research aims, questions, data, methodology and
the structure of the thesis. I argued that research on dreams has largely been neglected
within sociology and I identified a problem with the way data are treated, both
analytically and conceptually in most of the research on dreams. This is the overarching
concern of the thesis and relates to what Zimmerman and Pollner (1970) refer to as a
topic/resource issue, whereby participants’ data are treated as analysts’ resources rather
than topics of study in and of themselves. I suggested that this problem can be addressed
by using an ethnomethodologically inspired approach that combines CA and MCA to
study interview talk about dreams and talk about sleep, dreams, and recovery as a topic
in its own right (Hilbert 2010).
2.2. Chapter aims
Following Hilbert, the primary contention of this thesis is that the only available
phenomena we have for making sense of dreams, is the talk the about them that is
produced in different interactional contexts. However, in most of the sociological
research, and indeed the broader literature in a range of disciplinary contexts, the main
concerns have been to understand the functions or meanings of dreams in relation to how
they ‘reflect’ cultural practices (Fine and Fischer Leighton 1993) or reveal something
about the dreamer’s moral standing (Freud 1900). This is problematic because talk about
dreams is treated as if it were the dream itself and from this all manner of theories are
generated about their meanings, functions, and so on. What I aim to do in this chapter is
to show how EM/CA provides such a compelling and necessary, alternative through its
21
insistence on focussing on talk. More specifically, this chapter seeks to illustrate why
combining CA and MCA provides a more robust methodology for studying talk about
dreams than previous research in conventional sociology and preceding
ethnomethodologically oriented research on dreams. This previous EM research appears
against a largely overlooked backdrop of earlier attempts to develop a sociology of
dreams, which I will discuss in due course. Before I get to this however, I will start by
reviewing the sociology of sleep literature. This which may seem unusual but doing so
serves three purposes. Firstly, it will help to bring out the lack of sociological attention on
dreams. Secondly, it provides a way to set up my discussion of both the general addiction
and recovery literature and also the sociology of sleep and recovery literature, in which
some attention has been given to dreams but in a limited and problematic way. Finally, it
will provide a way of showing a fundamental problem with the aforementioned research
on dreams, which is the failure to consider the topic/resource issue that I described in
chapter one. Finally, I discuss the sociology of dreams literature through which I show
how the perspective I am adopting to analyse the data can advance the way dreams are
conceived within sociology.
In my review of the sociology of sleep literature I will show that very little attention has
been given to dreams and even where they are considered, they are construed as
psychological phenomena. Nonetheless, it is argued that dreams have been used for
therapeutic and diagnostic purposes (Williams 2011), which resonates with the way
dreams are perceived in both the general addiction research and the sociology of sleep
and recovery research. In my review of the general addiction literature, I highlight the
work that has recently emerged in relation to the functions of ‘using dreams’ for people
in recovery from substance use. Within this literature, a key concern relates to the impact
22
‘using dreams’ (which I define below) may have on people’s recovery and well-being. It
also considers how insights gained from studying using dreams can be employed to
enhance the development of supporting resources to assist with the recovery process and
to provide more robust training for staff in the centres. While this research largely focuses
on the physiological and psychological aspects of people’s experiences, it could have
relevance for the thesis as it can be linked to the sociological research on sleep and
recovery, particularly in relation to the identity work that is produced.
After reviewing the addiction and recovery literature, I then review the sociology of sleep
and recovery literature, which emphasises the identity work that is involved for people
in recovery as they move from being a ‘user’ to ‘getting clean’ and thus being ‘normal’
identity (Nettleton et al 2012). Bringing these two areas of the literature together is
important for the thesis as one of the datasets, which I discuss in chapter three, comprises
interviews in which ‘using dreams’ feature. Furthermore, in the addiction and recovery
literature there is a general focus on gaining better understandings of how ‘using dreams’
might help or hinder recovery which is an important issue from a conventional
sociological perspective. Although this literature is not sociological, it could be used to
inform sociological theory by forging a relationship between these two areas. In chapter
four, I demonstrate empirically how ‘using dreams’ are invoked and what they
accomplish interactionally. Furthermore, I will argue that when people talk about using
dreams, it is not just about identity as there is a moral issue at stake which warrants
management in situ. Additionally, rather than apriori theorising about recovery, using
dreams, morality, and identity, which is largely what happens in both the addiction and
sociology of sleep and recovery research, the thesis grounds its analysis in the data, by
treating talk about sleep, using dreams and recovery as a topic in its own right.
23
After reviewing the above-mentioned literature, I then move on to review the general
sociology of dreams literature. I will argue that while the research that has been
conducted in this body of work is useful as a backdrop to the present thesis, it is also
problematic as it confuses topic and resource and in some cases dreams are
psychologised. I then consider the ethnomethodologically informed research on dreams,
which includes empirical studies that have used either CA or a discursive approach to
examine the methods that are used to account for dreams in different interactional
contexts. This thesis aims to build upon these studies by using an analytical approach that
combines CA and MCA to examine the two datasets that are analysed in the thesis
(interviews about dreams and interviews about sleep and recovery), which will be
discussed in the following chapter. This review makes a clear connection between the
research on dreams in these areas and highlights how my analytical approach can be used
to address the thesis aims. Having outlined the content and structure of the chapter, I now
focus on the sociology of sleep research.
2.3. The sociology of sleep and its neglect of dreams As noted in chapter one, until fairly recently, like dreams, sleep was also a neglected topic
within sociology. Williams (2002: 174) argues this was due to:
“the tendency to see sleep, to the degree that it is thought about at all, as a
biological, psychological or (in the case of dreams) psychoanalytic matter,
and/or a topic of philosophical debate, with little or no sociological
significance.”
24
Over the past two decades, the sociology of sleep has rapidly gained credence as a field
and a substantial amount of research and debate has emerged relative to the relationship
between sleep, health and society (Williams 2002: Hislop and Arber 2004, Meadows et
al. 2017). It has been argued that sleep is a managed and negotiated experience (Hislop
and Arber 2003a, 2003b, Meadows 2005). It is depicted as a complex, interactive and
dynamic process that is both influenced (and disrupted) by a multiplicity of factors
including gender, aging, the family, changes in the life course, childhood bodies (Hislop
and Arber 2006, Meadows et al., 2008, Arber et al., 2018, Moran Ellis and Venn 2007,
Williams et al., 2007), worry and socio-economic status (Williams et al., 2010), health and
medicalisation (Meadows et al., 2018), normativity, sleepfullness, and other factors for
those in rehabilitation from illicit substance use (Nettleton et al., 2017, Meadows et al.,
2017, Neale et al., 2018). Insights about the use of pharmaceuticals as sleep aids have
been highlighted (Gabe et al. 2016, Coveney et al. 2019), as has the impact of socio-
economic and marital status (Arber et al. 2009).
According to Williams (2011), sleep has also been politicised and used to govern social
action in various social, cultural, and historical contexts. Furthermore, it is argued that
sleep is governed by a moral code that constrains inappropriate behaviour in ‘out of
place’ settings (Brunt and Steger 2008), such as falling asleep in the workplace (Horrocks
and Pounder 2006), and social expectations for sleeping bodies (Williams 2007). It has
also been presented as a ritualised process with associative rules, rights, and
responsibilities (Williams 2005). Furthermore, it has been argued that our
understandings of sleep are influenced by the consumer culture through marketing of
products associated with lifestyle, health, beauty and leisure, and identity (Williams and
Boden 2004). These developments demonstrate that a focus on what Bastide (1966)
25
refers to as ‘man’ asleep (Bastide 1966, see discussion below in the sociology of dreams)
is beginning to be addressed through depictions of sleep as being influenced by the above
factors. However, in much of the sociology of sleep research described above, attention
to dreams is largely absent. Nonetheless, Williams (2011) in particular, provides a
valuable overview of the history of dreams and a good illustration of the continuing
confusion about the possibility of a sociology of dreams within the field of sleep research.
However, he also argues that dreams should be treated as secondary to sleep in this field
(Williams 2002, 2005, 2011). He (2011: 83-119) notes the changing ideas about sleep
and dreams in pre-modernity and modernity, arguing that dreams and dreaming are sites
of political, moral, and cultural controversy, which, he argues, is evidenced in debates
about their epistemological and ontological foundations. Furthermore, he asserts that:
“Dreams often lack any irrefutable sign that they are indeed dreams ... [but they]...
have provided a rich site of conjecture, controversy and consternation if not
crisis, throughout the course of human history including, divine and diabolic,
sacred and profane, not to mention [the] diagnostic or therapeutic reference
points [...] from the early modern period through [...] to the present day”
(Williams 2011: 86, my emphasis).
I come back to the reference about the therapeutic and diagnostic issues later in the
section. A critical point to take from Williams’ work is his position on Freud. He proposes
that Freud’s psychoanalytic interpretation is an historically critical reference point in
terms of influencing contemporary understandings about the function of dreams. He also
debunks Freud’s theory of dreams being the guardians of sleep, arguing in favour of the
idea that they are “driven by neurophysiological activation processes that take jumbled
26
images, ideas and so on, to make coherent stories, which are willed by individual
dreamers” (Williams 2011: 31, my emphasis). Taking these points into consideration,
Williams (2011) asserts that the shifting views and ambiguity relating to dreams has
resulted in an ‘architecture of sleep’ that serves as a double point of reference (Williams
2011: 119). On the one hand, dreams have been treated as a rich source of experience
that provide insights into people’s subjective experiences, while on the other hand, they
are viewed as patterned and observable phenomena that can be captured through EEGs
(electroencephalograms) which measure brain activity, or polygraphs that measure a
variety of physiological indices such as blood pressure, heart rate, and so on (Williams,
2005, 2011). For Williams (2011), the idea that dreams are active and patterned
experiences points to a further shift in the history of dream research and he suggests that
the: “battle over dreams has rumbled on [...] as a muted or marginal theme inside sleep
research and sleep medicine proper” (Williams 2011: 116, my emphasis).
Central to Williams’ critique is the idea that dreams are treated as ‘objective discoveries.’
Typically, in research undertaken in sleep laboratories, participants are woken at various
points during the night and asked whether they were dreaming and if so, what it was
about (Kryger et al. 2005). Often it will be after what is treated as a period of rapid eye
movement (REM) sleep, or non-rapid eye movement (NREM). Williams (2011) argues
that these verbal data are used to verify claims about the validity of REM and NREM
theories. More importantly, he proposes that the verbal data generally remain
unrecognised, so ‘scientific discoveries’ such as these can be considered as inferential
because the graphical outputs cannot be distinguished from the “subjective reports or
testimonies of the individuals concerned” (Williams 2011: 119). In this respect, he is
pointing to same empirical problem that this thesis seeks to address, which is that
27
people’s talk is obscured in scientific research findings. However, having previously made
a case to reject Freud’s theory, he then moves on to psychologise dreams, arguing that:
“there is every reason to take seriously the radical hypothesis – first set out in
Freud’s book a hundred years ago - that dreams are motivated phenomena
driven by our wishes” (Williams 2011: 118, original emphasis).
There are a number of points to be made about Williams’ argument that are relevant to
the thesis. Firstly, he provides an overview of the historical trajectory of dreams but
treats them as insignificant relative to sleep research and sleep medicine. Furthermore,
his repeated claims that dreams are psychological rather than sociological phenomena
raises questions about why he gives them any coverage at all. Additionally, he argues that
sleep is a complex and multifaceted phenomenon that cannot be reduced to any one
domain or discourse (Williams 2002). However, when talking about dreams this is
ultimately what he does by claiming they are psychological. Moreover, by treating dreams
as motivated or willed phenomena his reasoning is speculative. Indeed, Fine and Fischer
Leighton (1993) argue that dreams are not willed by individuals, as we will see below.
Furthermore, from an ethnomethodological perspective, the question of motivation
would need to be subjected to the same kind of scrutiny as any other analysts’ constructs
by examining how motivation or other ‘internal mental states’ are worked up
interactionally (Edwards and Potter 1992).
Perhaps the most curious consideration with respect to Williams’ argument is that he
overturns his own sociological reasoning about dreams, which hampers the development
of a comprehensive sociology of sleep. As we have seen, he describes both dreams and
28
sleep as similar, but is also keen to construct boundaries between them. Indeed, he makes
it explicit that dreams could be subjected to the same kinds of analysis as sleep but shies
away from taking this next step.
Finally, a critical point is made by Williams in that dreams have been used as diagnostic
or therapeutic reference points from the early period to the present day (Williams 2011:
86). This is a significant issue for the thesis, given that one of the datasets comprises
interviews with people in therapeutic settings. Within this dataset there is talk about
‘using dreams’, which in the general addiction and recovery literature are seen to have
implications in relation to developing support for both people in recovery and for training
staff in diagnostic and therapeutic settings (Hajek and Belcher, 1991, Christo and Franey,
1996; Flowers and Zweben, 1998; Johnson 2001, Reid and Simeon 2001, Colace, 2000,
2004, 2010, 2014, 2020, Sorio et al 2016, Tanguay et al 2017, Silva and Nappo 2019, Kelly
and Greene 2019, Ellis et al 2021). Although this literature does not adopt a sociological
outlook, these are important sociological concerns that have not yet been considered
within the sociology of sleep and recovery.
Talk about dreams is what connects the two datasets that are analysed in the thesis. As
will be discussed in chapter three, one of the datasets concerns the relationship between
sleep and recovery, while the other concerns talk about dreams. Within the sleep and
recovery data there are references to ‘using dreams,’ (which I analyse in chapter four).
This provides a way of connecting the data on ‘using dreams’ to both the sociology of
sleep and recovery research and also the general addiction and recovery literature, which
I now discuss.
29
2. 4. The impact of using dreams on recovery from substance use
Drug addiction is considered to be a major health problem with serious medical and
economic implications at personal, social, and societal levels (Robles 2019, Santos et al.
2019). However, despite the social scientific interest in drugs addiction, limited
sociological attention has been given to the way addiction and recovery impact on sleep
and dreams. Yet within the general addiction and recovery literature one of the main foci
has been on the way ‘using dreams’ may impact recovery. Using dreams can be defined
as dreams in which people in recovery from substance use, are either consuming their
substance(s) of choice or dreaming of being in environments where others are using
substances or being in situations where they are buying or handling substances (Colace
2020). The concern with ‘using dreams’ in the addiction and recovery literature is about
whether they can be treated as signals for potential relapse, whether they indicate how
people cope with recovery, and whether they can be used to both educate people about
what to expect on the recovery journey. A particular concern in this respect is that using
dreams may lead to feelings of anxiety, guilt, and stress, for example, so one aim within
the addiction and recovery research is to understand if it is possible for those in recovery
to normalise such feelings and aid their recovery journey (Colace 2014, 2020, Kelly and
Greene, 2019, Silva and Nappo 2019). It is argued that ‘using dreams’ are often frequent
in the first two weeks of abstinence from substance use (Christo and Franey, 1996;
Flowers and Zweben, 1998; Colace, 2014, 2020, Tanguay et al 2017, Silva and Nappo
2019, Kelly and Greene 2019, Ellis et al 2021), although they can persist for weeks (Hajek
and Belcher, 1991), months (Christo and Franey, 1996), and even years (Johnson, 2001).
According to Colace (2014, 2020), while prevalence rates vary from study to study,
approximately 80% - 85% of individuals experience using dreams in the first two months
30
after stopping substance use. Furthermore, Kelly and Greene (2019) argue that using
dreams are more common for people with extended histories of using more than one
substance. It is also argued that people in recovery may experience a range of emotions
in relation to dreaming about using substances. For example, they may experience relief
on waking when they realise, they were dreaming and not actually using (Colace 2000,
2004, 2014, 2020, Reid and Simeon 2001, Sorio et al 2016, Colace et al 2010).
Alternatively, they may experience feelings of guilt or regret if they were using in the
dream (Colace 2000, 2004, 2014, 2020, Tanguay et al 2015, Sorio et al 2016, Silva and
Nappo 2019, Kelly and Greene 2019). They may also experience annoyance and
frustration that they did not actually use or have substances upon waking (Colace 2004,
2014, 2020). It has also been noted that some patients in clinical settings felt that using
dreams could lead to relapse due to feelings of guilt and anxiety (Colace 2014).
Subsequently, it has been argued that exploring the frequency, content, and impact of
using dreams can help therapists and others who work with people in recovery settings
to understand clients’ mood changes, which can be beneficial in terms of understanding
how to better support them (Kelly and Greene 2019, Colace 2020). However, while these
studies provide insights into the way people may feel about using dreams and how this
impacts their waking lives, the predictive significance is not clear (Steinig et al 2011,
Colace 2014, 2020). Kelly and Greene (2019) suggest that the association between using
dreams and their decreasing frequency over time indicates how the body and mind adapt
to abstinence which, they argue, is indicative of a healing process. Furthermore, they
suggest that using dreams can be deeply unsettling, so gaining more information about
how they impact individuals could be useful for helping them to normalise their feelings
as well as helping them and their families to move forward.
31
Colace (2020) suggests that the content of using dreams should be discussed in
psychoanalytical and other treatment settings, particularly if there is an increased
frequency over time as they could indicate the likelihood of a relapse (see also, Piccoloto
and Szupszynski, 2004, Tanguay et al 2015, Colace, 2004, 2014, 2020, Silva & Nappo,
2019). Furthermore, exploring the content of using dreams might help us understand
how people manage their feelings about them, such as guilt, relief, satisfaction, cravings,
and so on. Colace (2020:175) proposes that using dreams could therefore function as a
“clinical thermometer” that treatment providers can use to assess the likelihood of
relapse; whether individuals are determined to stay clean and how well they are
managing abstinence.
Kelly and Greene (2019), who draw on different data to Colace, have estimated that only
around one third of people in recovery have reported using dreams because they are only
reported/recorded if people enter rehabilitative settings. Therefore, they argue that this
under-reporting could be obscuring a wider social problem as people may not be
receiving the education and support, they need. Ellis et al (2021) also agree that
educating individuals about using dreams and normalising the effects may be beneficial
by reducing anxiety, stress, feelings of guilt and so on, which may help to prevent relapse.
However, while the addiction and recovery literature recommend placing using dreams
at the forefront of therapy in recovery, psychoanalytical and clinical settings, most of the
analysis draws on standardised surveys and uses predefined Likert ratings to produce
the findings. So, in terms of understanding the impact of using dreams, most insights are
gained from statistical analyses of responses.
32
Furthermore, where there have been attempts to understand these experiences from
interview data (Silva and Nappa 2019, Kelly and Greene 2019), the treatment of data is
problematic from an EM perspective because it also confuses the topic/resource issue.
Firstly, participants’ talk is obscured, and so professional analysts’ categories are reified
or given priority over the participants own categories (Watson 1997). Additionally,
because participants’ self-descriptions of their internal ‘mental states’, for example being
‘anxious’ or ‘stressed,’ and so on are unreflexively treated by analysts (within this
literature) as ‘real,’ there is no attempt to explore how these descriptions are produced
and negotiated within the interviews. As mentioned above, these issues are important for
the thesis, with respect to understanding how people in recovery produce talk about
dreams and what is accomplished through that talk. The main concern within the
empirical chapters is to demonstrate rather than theorise how social action is
accomplished in talk. This can be achieved by drawing on CA and MCA to show what is
being done with the talk. By doing so, it becomes possible to take a first step towards
connecting the sociology of dreams, the sociology of sleep and recovery and the addiction
and recovery literature. This is done, not by inferential reasoning but by examining the
transcribed data and showing the methods that are actually produced when talking about
dreams, in co-constructed interviews about sleep and recovery.
Having discussed the connections between the broader sociology of sleep and the
addition and recovery literature, I now consider the sociology of sleep and recovery
research. One of the main concerns in this area relates to the way categories relating to
the reconstruction of identity are used as people move from ‘using’ to ‘being clean.’
33
2.5. The constitution of recovery narratives
One of the key concerns in the sociology of sleep and recovery is the need for people in
rehabilitation from substance use, to construct a ‘non-addict’ identity for themselves
when they interact with healthcare professionals (McIntosh and McKeganey 2000, 2001,
2002, Nettleton et al. 2011, 2012, Jarvinen and Ravn 2015, Sorio et al. 2019). A secondary
concern is the language that is used to define people in recovery, for example, as formerly
being drug or alcohol ‘dependent’ because this promotes negative connotations (White,
2007, Doukas and Cullen, 2010, Ashford et al. 2019). Yang et al. (2017), argue that one of
the challenges for sociologists is to gain a better understanding of people’s experiences
of addiction and the stigma associated with the categories drug ‘use’ and ‘abuse.’ In the
context of this thesis, this also applies to alcohol use as the sleep data includes IEs who
use drugs, or alcohol, or both substances. Furthermore, identity categories relating to
addiction and recovery are moralised in everyday talk-in-interaction, which raises
concerns with respect to language, social interaction, and health communication (Robles
2019).
Robles (2019) argues that some EM research has explored constructions of health related
behaviours in doctor/patient interactions, which has demonstrated that patients orient
towards moral topics such as alcohol and drug use as morally sensitive or delicate.
According to Robles (2019), the upshot is that doctors orient to the delicateness of these
topics by formulating questions and responses in ways that avoid interactional troubles.
Furthermore, patients commonly present their behaviors as normal and healthy (Denvir,
2009, 2012, 2014, Robles 2019) when disclosing health related transgressions from
normative behaviours (Bergen and Stivers, 2013). For example, Schubert et al. (2009)
undertook a categorical analysis to examine data from research conducted with people
34
who have ADHD and were also in recovery from amphetamine use. They note that
because ADHD can be treated with dexamphetamines (a type of amphetamine that
controls the nervous system) participants formulated their recovery accounts by
foregrounding the morally neutral category ‘ADHD patient,’ rather than those associated
with illicit drug use. In chapter four, I show that the categories ‘healthy’ and ‘normal,’
‘clean,’ and ‘sober’ are invoked by the IEs in the sleep data to mark the contrast with
having been a ‘user’ and the use of these categories shows that they do not always treat
questions about ‘using dreams’ as delicate. Rather, it is the IRs who tend to treat questions
about ‘using dreams’ with caution.
According to Robles (2019), because addiction behaviours are perceived to be ‘unhealthy’
and ‘immoral,’ discussions about substance use make the addiction identity relevant and
morally accountable. Furthermore, because negative discourse impacts on identity
reconstructions it is important that issues relating to the use of negative language are
considered by healthcare practitioners working with people in recovery from substance
use (McIntosh and McKeganey 2002, Anderson 2015, Santos et al. 2019). Ashford et al.
(2018:131) argue that the use of language with negative, rather than positive
connotations, is particularly challenging if people are taking actions to move away from
their addictive behaviours. They argue that this kind of stigmatising discourse constructs
a major barrier for getting people to engage with treatment and it is also more likely to
affect the quality of healthcare developed by professional service providers.
It is argued that one of the main reasons for people’s participation in rehabilitative
settings, whether self -directed or medically encouraged, is to become ‘normal’ (Nettleton
et al. 2011, 2012, Dingle et al. 2015). Because of this, people who agree to participate in
35
research about their recovery journeys are likely to produce accounts that foreground
their normative behaviour in order to ward off negative evaluations about their previous
lifestyles (Schubert 2009, Robles 2019). Nettleton et al. (2011: 341) argue that because
such research is about people’s lived experiences and relates to their identity, it is
important that ex-users can describe positive changes to their self-perceptions as they
move away from seeing themselves as ‘damaged’ and move towards re-establishing their
perceptions of self as ‘acceptable’ members of society (Nettleton et al. 2011: 342).
Furthermore, these morally loaded categories are bound up with notions of ‘stigma’ and
‘deviance’ (Nettleton et al. 2011, McIntosh and McKeganey 2000, 2001, 2002, Anderson
2015, Santos et al. 2019, Pivovarova and Stein 2019), which are treated synonymously in
the conventional sociological literature. Given these issues, it is unsurprising that people
in recovery would want to move away from representing themselves negatively when
producing accounts about their recovery. In this respect, research by McIntosh and
McKeganey (2000, 2001, 2002) is particularly important for this thesis as it set the
precedent for empirical research on how people in recovery produce their recovery
narratives. As we will see in chapter four, talk about dreams, and specifically ‘using
dreams’ is used by IEs in the sleep data to display their recovery identities which are
inextricably tied to concerns with morality and culture.
McIntosh and McKeganey (2000, 2001, 2002) conducted interviews with 70 ‘ex heroin
addicts’ in Scotland and their data were analysed using analytic induction, which they
suggest, aims to “allow the conceptual framework to emerge from the data rather than
being imposed upon it” (McIntosh and McKeganey (2001: 50, my emphasis). They argue
that “what characterises the successful attempt to exit addiction is a fundamental
questioning and rejection of what one has become together with a desire and resolution
36
to change (2002: 44-45). Furthermore, this “sort of cognitive shift […] comes close to
being a necessary condition for such change to occur” (2002:45, author’s original
emphasis). McIntosh and McKeganey (2000), were interested in the language former
users drew upon when describing what triggered the desire to change. For example,
having ‘turning points’ or ‘low self-esteem’ and hitting ‘rock bottom’ (McIntosh and
McKeganey 2000: 1502). So, what they are pointing to is the use of categorisations by
people in recovery to describe why they wanted to abstain from using substances.
McIntosh and McKeganey (2000) suggest that three areas of import were observed in
their participants’ narratives, namely, a reinterpretation of their lifestyle, a re-evaluation
of their sense of self, and finally, being able to provide convincing explanations of
recovery. They also propose that while the narratives of recovery corresponded with
accounts in the research and policy literature, they could also be influenced by the
discourses of support workers in the treatment centres. Subsequently, McIntosh and
McKeganey conclude that it is crucial that recovering addicts can self-construct their own
recovery identities as it plays a fundamental part in the recovery process. However, as I
will demonstrate in chapter five, by undertaking a categorial analysis of a fragment of
their data, their analysis also relied on apriori theorising and reification of their own
categories, so they do not address the empirical problem they set out to address.
Moreover, the conceptual framework does not emerge from the data, as they impose their
own categories upon it. As mentioned above, in relation to the addiction literature and
the sociology of sleep research, this is an important concern for the chapter, and indeed
the thesis, as it confuses topic and resource (Zimmerman and Pollner 1970), so the
everyday commonsense world shared by both researchers and their participants remains
unexplicated.
37
As will be discussed in chapter three, the EM perspective articulated by Zimmerman and
Pollner proposes that the fundamental facticity of the social world, that is, its social
structures, can be observed in the situated and practical accomplishments of social
actors. This is why data need to be treated differently to the way they are routinely
treated in the literature so far discussed. This basic issue also applies to most of the
broader sociological literature on dreams, to which I now turn.
2.6. The sociology of dreams
I will first discuss Hilbert’s (2010) important paper, which is highly significant for the
thesis as it helped shape my thinking about the analytical approach I would apply to the
data and highlighted some ideas that might emerge from my analysis of the data.
However, most fundamentally, it marked a departure from the way dreams had
previously been perceived in much of the conventional sociological literature. The critical
point here is that Hilbert (2010:43) argues that whatever dreams are used for and
however they are interpreted, both telling and receiving depend upon the told dream
(2010: 43). He contends that reported dreams can be subjected to analysis, speculation,
interpretation, and professional diagnosis, but questions why it is that the accounts
produced in dream telling settings are intersubjectively treated by speakers and
recipients as authoritative and resistant to contestation or modification. Hilbert’s aim
was to distinguish the EM approach from other studies that treated dream narratives or
the interpreted dream as if they were the dream itself. Given that analysts/researchers
can only know about and make sense of dreams if they are shared, Hilbert’s contention
that we treat the talk about dreams as the phenomenon, rather than treating the content
as being more significant is important, because it has potential for developing the
sociology of dreams using a more diverse range of analytical approaches than was
38
previously the case. For Hilbert (2010:49), the dream, dream symbolism, interpretations
of dreams, and so on, are of no interest aside from their referential uses in dream telling
settings. He questions how it can be that individual “dreamers experience constraint and
objectivity in the telling of dreams without presuming even the most remote possibility
of intersubjective verification.” There are a few EM oriented studies of dreams that seek
to identify the methods that people use describe their dreams and what those methods
accomplish interactionally. For example, including Bergmann and Perakyla (2014) and
Perakyla and Bergmann (2020) adopt a conversation analytic approach to study dreams
in therapeutic contexts, and Bardina (2021) who undertakes a discursive approach to
analyse data from dream sharing websites. Additionally, Wager-Pacifici and Bershady
(1993) trace one dream and discuss how it is interpreted in various institutional contexts,
although this is more akin to a discourse analysis than EM. Perakyla and Bergmann
(2020) note that talk about dreams in psychoanalytical settings is a joint meaning-
creating process as gaining a shared sense of meaning is jointly accomplished between
clients and therapists. As the thesis is drawing on interview data and using CA and MCA
to analyse the data (as will be discussed in the next chapter), focussing on how the
interviews are co-constituted is important. Examining how both IRs and IEs orient to the
interview talk as it unfolds on a moment-by-moment basis is a fundamental part of the
analysis. In the empirical chapters, I focus on the co-constitutive character of the
interviews to address Hilbert’s points about constraint, intersubjectivity, and
impartiality. I show that if a dream is morally implicative, dream tellers use a range of
methods to ward off the potential for unwelcome responses (Potter 1996). Furthermore,
I demonstrate that there is no diminishment of objectivity when accounting for
problematic content. Rather, when dream content is morally implicative, this is made
39
relevant, visible, and reportable through the way accounts are rhetorically designed using
a range of interactional methods.
Furthermore, by focussing on the way categories are invoked and identifying what they
are used for, the thesis moves beyond previous research in the sociology of dreams. The
earliest proposal for such a project was put forward by Socio-anthropologist Roger
Batside (1996) who laid down the foundations for sociology to include the study of
dreams as part of its field of inquiry. When studying the dreams of Africans migrating to
Western societies in search of work, Bastide observed that their dreams became imbued
with social referents relating to money and status, for example, which were significant in
these new cultural contexts but had little value in their indigenous cultures. For Bastide
(1966: 209), this “signalled a unity between sleeping and waking man [sic],” which
challenged the dominance of the Freudian perspective at the time as it pointed to the
sociological influences on dream content. Bastide (1966) was also critical of Jung’s (1916)
idea that dream symbolism could be explained through a system of archetypes or motifs.
For Bastide, these views were reductionist as they took the individual unconscious mind
as the topic for investigation and overlooked the sociality of dreams as shared and
collective actions. He (1966:200), therefore, questioned the foundations upon which the
psychoanalytical theories were based and posed important questions for sociology, as
follows:
"How well founded is this radical division between the psychic and the social,
which is like a reflection, at the scientific level, of the division in man between
work and dream? Is it not about time to re-establish channels of
communication between these two worlds? To see how the twilight states of our
40
life, how the dark and obscure half of man, extends the social half exactly as the
social half feeds on our dreams? In short, is it not time to attempt a sociology of
the dream?”
Bastide went on to suggest that the sociological project should address two tasks, firstly
to explore the social functions of dreams within society, and secondly to assess whether
society “provide[s] a framework for making oneiric thought usable” (1966: 200). Yet,
despite this early call for the development of a sociology of dreams, there was no
furthering of this project until 1993 when a special edition of Symbolic Interaction (SI)
was published that included commentary from Fine and Fischer Leighton (1993),
Wunder (1993), Vester (1993) and Wagner-Pacifici and Bershady (1993).
Fine and Fischer Leighton (1993) argue that with the increasing sociological interest in
cognition, emotion, subjectivity, and other topics that were previously defined as
psychological, dreams should not be excluded from sociological analysis. Adopting a
symbolic interactionist outlook (1996: 95), they argue that dreams should be “situated
within a social order grounded in interaction, [and seen as] a cause and effect of that
order.” Furthermore, they argue that dreams are external to the individual self and
therefore constitute ‘social facts,’ helpfully they also provide a summary analysis of the
other authors in the special edition and map the themes from these papers, which are
echoed elsewhere in the literature on dreams (Vann and Alperstein 1994, 1997, Nell
2014), with the exception of the EM literature noted above. From their review of the
existing literature at the time, Fine and Fischer Leighton listed a number of models of
dreams, which I have followed in this discussion as it helps to bring out a number of
critical issues. First, they argue that dreams are reflective of social reality; unknowingly
41
produced by dreamers; presented in social contexts, and collectively interpretable
phenomena. Fine and Fischer Leighton (1993: 102) then propose that these insights
provide the backdrop for a distinct sociology of dreaming that explores the “social
relationships and cirumstances of dreamers.” Furthermore, they then suggest that apart
from the psychiatric imagery of dreams as internal and personal productions, dreams can
be interpreted through the following models, which are shaped by and thus reflect social
structures:
i) Dreams reflect the culture of the individual.
According to Fine and Fischer Leighton (1993), culture is external to the individual and
sets the boundaries of what constitutes appropriate action, which is determined through
socialisation in myriad social contexts, for example, religion and education. Hence, the
dream content reflects cultural artefacts, symbols, belief systems and norms and values.
Vester (1993) explored different explanations for dream symbolism in religion, myth and
folklore. He suggests that dreams are temporally, spatially and culturally situated within
particular contexts and proposes that exploring the symbols, scenes and scripts that are
used in different settings provides a way of understanding their collective meanings.
Furthermore, he discusses how social structures, such as religion, stabilise meaning and
memory through systematic rituals and practices. The emphasis on the role of religion as
a longstanding tradition within dream interpretation is considered by Nell (2014), who
also discusses the influence of education and the family.
Perhaps the most useful thing to be taken from Vester’s discussion is the idea that oral
traditions change over time which varies in different cultures. This fits, not only with
Bastide’s (1996) observations about the changing symbolism in his participants’ dreams,
42
but also the other authors who emphasise the significance of social context for making
sense of dreams. However, Vester ultimately provides a deterministic explanation by
arguing this is due to a causal relationship between the individual dreamer and society.
From an EM perspective this view is problematic as it fits with structuralist outlooks in
conventional sociology (Cf. Parsons 1968) in which social actors are perceived to be
‘cultural dopes’ who unreflexively reproduce social structures over and over (Garfinkel
1967). This point is further discussed in chapter three.
Fine and Fischer Leighton’s (1993) second model relates to the told dream. However, as
we will see, even where a case is being made to study narrated dreams, it is the content
of the dream rather than the talk that is treated as the phenomenon which, as with
Vester’s study, constitutes another example of the ‘topic/resource issue’ that the thesis
aims to address (Zimmerman and Pollner 1970) i.e., the talk is treated as a resource to
access dream content rather than a topic in its own right.
ii) Dreams are narrated phenomena.
According to Fine and Fischer Leighton (1993), dreams are rhetorically presented in a
variety of social contexts, including therapeutic settings and conversation with family or
friends, for example. Because they are shared in public settings, dream tellers attempt to
provide acceptable versions of self when sharing their dreams, in line with the limitations
of cultural boundaries. For example, Vann and Alperstein (1994) conducted a study of
dreams with students who completed a survey and maintained a dream dairy for two
weeks. The study aimed to explore who participants shared their dreams with which
topics they would or would not share, and in which social contexts they were shared.
They found that dreams were mostly shared with friends and family and that dream
43
sharing was problematic if the topic was likely to cause the teller embarrassment.
Subsequently, Vann and Alperstein (1994) argue that dreams may be censored. Hilbert
(2010) also discusses dream censoring and foregrounds the issue with morality. Vann
and Alperstein (1994) also found dream telling is hyperbolic: for example, prefacing a
dream by saying you’ll never guess what I dreamt about last night, serves to elevate the
status of the dream by marking it as entertaining or culturally significant. While Vann and
Alperstein raise some interesting issues around censoring, and the rhetorical and
hyperbolic character of the told dream, as with the other studies, they decontextualise
data through extrapolation and omission of their own talk in the extracts they draw upon.
In my analysis, I demonstrate how participants in my datasets manage morally
implicative dream content by invoking a range of rhetorical methods. I also show that
they use hyperbole in the form of extreme case formulations (e.g., ‘never’ and ‘always’)
(Pomerantz 1986) to substantiate the occurrence of the dream. I discuss these methods
further in the next chapter and then demonstrate them in the subsequent empirical
chapters.
Nell’s (2014) more recent paper chimes with many of the ideas already referred to. Like
Vester, Fine and Fischer Leighton and Vann and Alperstein, he also treats dreams as social
facts and argues that dream beliefs and practices are informed by religious, traditional,
popular psychological, and bio-medical discourses. Nell argues that dream content is
linked to recent experiences in people’s waking lives, for example, media consumption,
day time experiences, emotional factors such as fears, desires and anxieties. In this
respect his findings resonate with the discussion above, in the addiction and recovery
literature, about how ‘using dreams’ may impact on the lived experiences of people in
recovery from substance use (Colace 2000, 2004, 2014, 2020, Tanguay et al 2015, Sorio
44
et al 2016, Silva and Nappo 2019, Kelly and Greene 2019). Nells’s ideas also resonate
with Vann and Alperstein’s studies of how media characters are ‘reflected’ in dreams
(1994, 1997). Although Nell (2014) draws on interview data (as well as undertaking a
quantitative content analysis), he also confounds his analysis in relation to the topic
resource issue by decontextualising data and failing to represent his own talk as part of
the analysis. As noted previously, this is problematic from an EM oriented perspective in
relation the way interview data are treated (Potter and Hepburn 2012, Rapley 2015). I
discuss these issues in more detail in chapter three. The message from Nell’s treatment
of the data, is that once again an opportunity to examine the narrated dream is
overlooked.
iii) Dreams are interpreted phenomena.
In additon to considering that dreams are narrated, Fine and Fischer Leighton’s final
model relates to the way dreams are interpreted. Notably, however, they do not make a
distinction between what constitutes narrated and interpreted dreams, which raises a
question about how research data on dreams are used. As I show in the empirical
chapters, dreams are narrated but this involves reflexive interpretation in the situated
interview contexts. Moreover, descriptions of dreams follow on from some prior talk (e.g.,
a question, or request for information), which is overlooked in the conventional
sociological research but which I demonstrate in my analysis. According to Fine and
Fischer Leighton (1993), the significance of dreams and the means for interpreting them
are provided by culture, not the individual. Wagner-Pacifici and Bershady (1993)
illustrate this by tracing the journey of a single dream about a murder and analysing how
its meaning was contested in different institutional contexts. They argue that the
longstanding treatment of dream symbolism, as represented through a system of binary
45
opposites, such as sacred/profane, good/bad, god/devil and so on, makes the uncovering
of rhetoric in dream discourses a significant aspect of the sociological project. This is
because the content of dreams might be seen to have a bearing on the dreamer’s moral
standing, which is also been noted by Hilbert (2010), Nell (2014), Vester (1993) and
Bardina (2021).
To illustrate their point, Wagner-Pacifici and Bershady (1993) consider the real case of
Steven Linscott who had a dream about the rape and murder of a young woman. Two
days after the dream, a young woman who lived near Linscott was found raped and
murdered. Linscott told his wife and co-workers about the dream. They treated it as a
premonition and suggested he tell the police in case it could provide clues to the murder.
However, the police treated his account as a deflected confession, and he was charged
and convicted for rape and murder. In addition to these interpretations, different
scientific and parapsychological explanations were put forward to make sense of the
dream, including somnambulism, epilepsy, clairvoyance, and extra sensory perception.
Wagner-Pacifici, and Bershady (1993) argue that once Linscott’s dream was in the public
sphere its meaning became a contestable matter. The significance of Wagner-Pacifici and
Bershady’s work is that interpretations can be made by professionals and lay people
alike, which is fundamental in EM studies. However, Wagner-Pacifici and Bershady’s
insights are theoretical rather than empirical so my aim will be to extend upon this kind
of speculation to show how descriptions are produced and negotiated interactionally. As
we will see in the next chapter, by using the combined CA/MCA approach to re-analyse
the rhetorical work involved in an extract from Nettleton et al (2016), it becomes possible
to show how the participant and analyst/researcher negotiate (and interpret) the
categories ‘the devil’ and ‘religion’ relative to a reported dream.
46
Coming back to Fine and Fischer Leighton’s model, the dream discussed by Wagner-
Pacifici and Bershady (1993) was both narrated and interpreted, as were those in Nell’s
(2014) and Vann and Alperstein’s (1994, 1997) and Wunder’s (1993) studies, but this
twofold aspect of interpretive work is not brought out. For example, in the following
discussion, Wunder (1993) interprets her participant’s account in which he presents his
own interpretation of an experience he had when he was younger. A broader concern is
that Wunder (like Williams, see above) offers a psychologised interpretation of the data
because she draws on apriori framework used in psychology. Wunder (1993), analyses
interviews about the dreams of siblings with disabled brothers and sisters and aims to
explore insights about their intersubjective experiences and feelings. She proposes that
her participants internalise emotions that are transformed in their dreaming lives, and
therefore reflect not only the individual psyche but also their social values.
Wunder argues that her participants narratives reflected a discourse of anxiety and
concern about the well-being of their brothers or sisters. She identifies six recurrent
themes, as follows: (i) a desire to rescue the sibling; (ii) anticipation of experiences such
as coping with the death of the sibling; (iii) wishing the sibling would become able-
bodied, coupled with a desire to be their saviour; (iv) hope that an external force would
alter the situation; (v) guilt over their own normalcy, and (vi) sorrow about the sibling’s
disability or death. Furthermore, Wunder (1993: 118) suggests that: “dreams give one
an inside view of the person’s problems” and therefore provide sociology with a means
for understanding the interrelationships between dreams and social action. She draws on
a theoretical model developed by Bank and Kahn (1982). The model is used in
psychoanalysis and draws on the story of Hansel and Gretel to explain the development
47
of intense sibling bonds. Although Wunder’s aim is to make a contribution to the
sociology of dreams, there are a number of critical points to be made about her study.
The first concerns her treatment of the data. She argues that: “Dreams provide insights
that are not so likely to be distorted or as superficial as the reports in waking life” (Wunder
1993: 118, my emphasis). However, as mentioned above, her study is reliant on
interviews, thus her data are the occasioned reports being accounted for in the waking
world. Moreover, recipients of a reported dream have no direct access to the dream so
she cannot know whether the account is distorted or not. Secondly, she uses a
psychoanalytical conceptual framework to theorise her participant’s interpretations of
dreams rather than adopting a sociological approach. Furthermore (1993: 121), she
argues that “even as young children, some respondents had fantasies of their handicapper
[sic] sibling being ‘normal.” To illustrate her analysis, she draws on a quote from one of
her participants who recalled a time when he was about four years old and became aware
that his brother was never going to sit or walk and talk. He says:
“this really pisses me off. Why doesn’t someone or something help him walk and
talk? I’d think, Boy when I get old enough, I’m going to figure out how to make
him walk and talk”.
In this account, the participant offers his own interpretation of the situation. Wunder’s
analysis of the quote, is as follows:
“perhaps this fantasy served to solve the problem, it was a way of both
verbalising his frustration and giving him hope when he a small, powerless
48
boy. In his fantasy, he would be the hero and solve his brother’s dilemma [...] he
wanted to take care of his brother, to protect him from harm”
(Wunder 1993: 122, my emphases).
Within the extract, the participant accounts for his anger about the situation (being pissed
off) and questions why his brother cannot get help, which can be heard as a complaint
(Perakyla 2007), and he proposes that he used to think that when he was older, he would
figure out a way to make him walk and talk. From an EM perspective, this account
constitutes an ‘autobiographical memory formulation’ that makes something from the
past accountable and relevant in the situated interview context (Wooffitt 2005). The
sibling does not describe his experience as a fantasy or account for it as giving him hope
when he was a small powerless boy, nor does he indicate wanting to be a hero by solving
his brother’s dilemma or wanting to protect him from harm.
The key point to note here is that Wunder categorises the account as a ‘fantasy,’ which
points to the issue with defining dreams. As Wunder herself points out, there are different
types of dreams, for example, lucid, daydreams, dreams as representing desires, and so
on. In her analysis she merges dreams with daydreams and treats them as if they are the
same phenomenon. Wunder’s treatment of the extract provides another example of the
topic/resource issue. More critically perhaps is that the analysis constitutes a modified
psychological approach (which resonates with William’s conclusions above), so her
attempt to resituate the study of dreams within sociology falls short of its aims. From a
broader sociological point of view, not just EM, this is problematic as it seems to be the
case that some researchers cannot move forward from the dominance of psychological
49
explanations. Arguably, this is due to a lack of grounding the analyses in the data, which
as I will show below, is why EM, CA and are so important for the study of dreams.
The final theme that emerges in the conventional sociological literature on dreams
concerns intersubjectivity, or more precisely what is referred to as shared
understandings. The idea being that people can make sense of one another’s dreams
because they are culturally collective experiences (i.e., social facts) that are understood
through socialisation in education, religion, family and so on. The general consensus is
that intersubjectivity presents an analytical problem when it comes to untangling the
boundaries between waking and dreaming lives (Vester 1993, Fine and Fischer Leighton
1993, Wunder 1993, Nell 2014). However, as might be expected, while these authors
mention the issue, there is no attempt to define what they take it to mean or show how
shared understandings are worked up empirically. The exception here, to be discussed in
the next chapter, is Perakyla and Bergmann (and a discussion by Hilbert 2010).
The key point for me is not just to treat intersubjectivity and the other issues identified
in this chapter as characteristic features of talk about dreams, but rather to examine how
they are produced and made observably and reportably relevant in the data. Having
outlined the main themes that have emerged within the conventional sociological
literature on dreams, I now focus on the emprical work that has focussed on dreams.
2.6.1. Ethnomethodologial studies of dreams
From an EM perspective all talk is intersubjective (Garfinkel 1967, Lynch 1993, Sidnell
2017), and intersubjective understandings are recognisable and achieved as orderly
processes by people making sense of one another’s actions through practical
50
commonsense reasoning in situated contexts (Garfinkel 1967). This involves not only the
sequential (orderly) details of talk but also the categorial practices that are invoked
(Stokoe 2012a, 2012b, Watson 2015). While Hilbert’s paper was influential for shaping
my approach, Bergmann and Perakyla (2014) and Perakyla and Bergmann (2020) move
beyond his theoretical position and undertake empirical research using CA to analyse
data gathered in a therapeutic context. In this respect they also move beyond Sacks
speculations about dreams (1992: 512- 518 volume 1). Perakyla and Bergmann’s analysis
reveals a few conversational methods that were put to use in this setting. For the purpose
of the thesis, this is the most significant work to date, for two reasons. Firstly, because
their findings are grounded in the data. Secondly, by using conversation analysis “they
characterise the interpretation of dreams in situ, as a concrete conversational activity”
(Perakyla and Bergmann (2020:3) and argue that dream accounting is a joint meaning
creating process between therapists and their clients.
From this perspective, dreamers are not perceived to be sole witnesses to the dream,
because they are accountable to the therapist and the accounts are co-produced.
Therefore, they can be “corrected (Curley 1975: 135), extended (Perakyla 2008) or
redescribed by analysts” (Bardina 2021: 4). However, it should be noted that these kinds
of modifications may not occur in other discursive contexts. For example, Bardina (2021),
analyses talk from dream forums and adopts what she refers to as a ‘discursive
constructionist’ approach, so her analysis draws on written texts which are better suited
to categorial analysis. Similarly, as we will see in the empirical chapters, IEs rarely
comment on the content of a dream. Therefore, we need to take the interactional context
into account when doing analysis, which I consider in chapter three.
51
In their 2014 conference paper, Bergmann and Perakyla start by focussing on openings
and found no topical connection between the mention of a dream and the previous topic.
Subsequently, they demonstrate that dreams were introduced without hesitation,
reservation or justification. It is not always the case with the data in this thesis that talk
about dreams is spontaneous, because they are mainly produced following a question by
the IE, as we will see in relation to questions about ‘using dreams’ and ‘nightmares’ in
chapters four and six respectively. Bergmann and Perakyla (2014) argue that the use of
personal pronouns frames a dream as being the teller’s dream and that talk about dreams
is accounted for as being part of the dreamer’s everyday reality, yet simultaneously, the
dream is treated as having its own distinct reality. Perakyla and Bergmann (2020: 9)
suggest that the talk “typically oscillates between the dream and the real-world
experiences outside the dream.” I will demonstrate how this kind of boundary work is
accomplished in the empirical chapters. Indeed, I will argue that ‘policing’ the boundaries
is a fundamental feature in organisation of dream telling.
On examination of epistemic stance practices, Bergmann and Perakyla (2014) and
Perakyla and Bergmann (2020) suggest that dreams are told as real events through
mentions of temporal and situated phenomena. Additionally, they propose that dream
tellers might make unreliable witnesses through the design of formulations such as ‘I
think,’ I can’t remember,’ ‘I’m not sure,’ and so on. They argue that this unreliability is
constituted through ‘thin’ description, which relates to the vagueness that often
characterises talk about dreams (Hilbert 2010). However, in addition to lacking
knowledge, Bergmann and Perakyla (2014) argue that tellers may represent themselves
as being omniscient and authorial observers to demonstrate their knowledge of the
motives of the characters in the dream. Furthermore, the dream teller is a hybrid
52
character who is constituted as external author, animator, and primary actor in the
dream. Finally, Bergmann and Perakyla (2020) argue that the interpretive work involved
in accounting for dreams displays fundamental connections between what might appear
to be discrete ontological arenas i.e., waking and sleeping/dreaming.
Bardina (2021) also examined the oscillation between the waking and dreaming self. She
argues that because people do strange and unreliable things in dreams, tellers construct
their accounts to display both the facticity of the dream which is contrasted with their
normalcy. She found two ‘normalising devices’ in some of the dream reports she
examined from the dream sharing websites. One is referred to as ‘I was just doing X when
Y’; the other is referred to as ‘at first I thought X then I realised Y’ (Jefferson 2004).
Bardina proposes that these contrast devices are invoked to display the trustworthiness
of the teller by telling the dream as it really happened, while also displaying their
understanding of what constitutes acceptable behaviour in the shared, waking world.
As we will see in the empirical chapters, similar but not identical contrasts are invoked
by participants in both data sets used in the present thesis. For example, in chapter four,
I examine the sleep data and show how IEs use a two-part contrast device I refer to as ‘I
was doing X cos Y’ when accounting for changes to their dreams as a consequence of
either using substances or abstaining from them. In chapter five, I demonstrate the use of
two contrast structures. I refer to one as the ‘I was dreaming of doing X but Y’ which is
used by participants to distance themselves from morally implicative dream content. The
second I refer to as a ‘category out of bounds activity’ (COBA) that is used to make explicit
that the content of a dream is culturally out of bounds with the way members of specific
categories would be expected to behave in the waking world. Finally, in chapter six, the
53
last of the empirical chapters, I focus on the way stance practices are used for managing
the interviews.
Throughout the empirical chapters I show how objectivity, intersubjectivity, indexicality,
and reflexivity are used in the production of the interviews. I define these terms in
chapter three. A continuing thread throughout the empirical chapters is how identity and
morality are invoked and managed through the use of rhetoric, hyperbolic language, and
boundary work. I also demonstrate how the interviews are co-produced in ways that are
fitted to the interactional context, for example through the use of questions and
responses. As with Bergmann and Perakyla, and Bardina’s studies, my analysis is firmly
grounded in the data. However, my analysis adds to theirs, because I combine sequential
and categorial analysis, which reveals some of the sequential methods that are brought
out in Perakyla and Bergmann’s work and also the contrastive work that is highlighted in
Bardina’s study. Having reviewed the literature and identified key concepts and methods,
I now summarise the chapter.
2.7. Summary
In this chapter, I critically reviewed literature in three areas of sociology and some of the
literature on addiction and recovery and identified a number of recurrent themes in each.
I argued that a central concern in all areas was the topic/resource issue which resulted
in mistreatment of data. I have laid down the foundations for an empirical study of talk
about dreams that tentatively seeks to move beyond previous analysis of dream telling
and recipiency by using MCA in combination with CA to examine interviews about sleep
and recovery and interviews on dreams. Finally, I have argued that such an approach to
54
data analysis could resolve the topic/resource issue that is evident in much of the
literature under discussion, which can be specifically accomplished by examining
members’ methods as they are produced and made relevant in the data. By discussing
how I will be grounding my analysis in the data, the chapter provides a clear connection
between the sociology of dreams, the sociology of sleep, the sociology of sleep and
recovery and the addiction literature. It also makes clear how I will address the thesis
aims.
In the following chapter, I explain the data collection process, following which I discuss
the interview schedules and then consider sampling processes from a CA perspective. I
then highlight key concerns relating to ethics and consent, following which I consider
how I approached the data analysis on a step-by-step basis. I also discuss the
practicalities of combining CA and MCA. Following this, I discuss the key concepts in
ethnomethodology, conversation analysis and membership categorisation analysis to
foreground the methods that are to be applied in the analytical chapters to follow. Finally,
I consider some of the issues that can arise when conducting and using qualitative
interviews in ethnomethodological research.
55
Chapter three: Data and methods
3.1. Introduction
In the previous chapter, I critically reviewed the literature in three areas of conventional
sociology and considered some of the addiction literature. I argued that in the majority of
the literature, the topic/resource issue has confounded analysis as both participants’ and
analysts’ methods for accomplishing social action were obscured, categories were reified,
and data were decontextualised. Given these concerns, I argued in favour of using CA and
MCA to study data comprising talk about dreams, talk about sleep and dreams, and talk
about recovery and dreams, as this combined approach could address the empirical gap
identified in chapter one. I proposed that by using this approach, these areas of research
could be brought together. Furthermore, by bringing the literature together, I made a
clear connection to the data, research aims and my analytical approach. Finally, I
suggested that the thesis could augment sociological research on dreams and develop on
previous ethnomethodological work on dream telling.
To accomplish this, the thesis analyses data from two sources: interviews from a study
on sleep and recovery referred to as the sleep data and interviews from a study of dream
telling (the dream data). I begin by explaining the data collection process in each case,
following which I discuss the interview schedules and then consider sampling processes
from a CA perspective. This is important because in conventional sociology, sampling
relates to issues such as representation and demographics, are linked to reliability of data
and validity of analysis, whereas in CA these kinds of issues are conceived in a
fundamentally different way. In CA, issues of representation and demographics are only
important if they are made relevant by parties to talk. In CA terms this is referred to as
‘warranting’, which provides the basis for the validity of analysts’ claims which must be
56
grounded in the talk. This is indicative of how CA is more concerned with uncovering key
features in the data, relative to context, accountability, reflexivity and indexicality. I
discuss these analytical features in fuller detail below. I then highlight key concerns
relating to ethics and consent, following which I consider how I approached the data
analysis on a step-by-step basis. I also discuss the practicalities of combining CA and MCA,
which is necessary because I am using this innovative approach to analyse the data and
by doing so contribute to previous work relating to dreams. Following this, I discuss the
key concepts in ethnomethodology, CA, and MCA to foreground the methods that are to
be applied in the analytical chapters to follow. Finally, I consider some of the issues that
can arise when conducting and analysing qualitative interviews in ethnomethodological
research. Having sketched the content of the chapter, I now turn my attention to data
collection.
3.2. Data Collection
The data for this thesis were gathered for two independent projects. A study of dream
telling and a study of sleep with people in recovery from alcohol and/or substance use.
For the study of dream telling, a convenience sample was considered as adequate because
no specific demographic characteristics were required, other than a willingness to talk
about dreams. So, recruitment initially involved asking acquaintances whether they
would agree to be interviewed about their dreams. This included students, work
colleagues and friends; however, people known to them also expressed an interest in
becoming involved. I recruited 19 adults, aged between 21 and 64, comprising 13 females,
and 6 males. One of the interviews was with a married couple, so although I had recruited
19 participants, I had 18 interviews in total. All interviews were transcribed verbatim and
after repeatedly listening to them to find analysable features. I re-transcribed them using
57
the Jeffersonian transcription system, which will be discussed below. However, two of the
files were damaged so as I was unable to rework them and ended up with 16 usable
interviews. Additionally, I did not use extracts from all the transcripts in the analysis, as
can be seen in the summary of data table, below. This was because I wanted to maintain
the analytical focus in the empirical chapters.
The group included academics, administrators, and managers, as well as a researcher,
and postgraduate students working in two Higher Education institutions in the South
East of England. Once participants had agreed to be interviewed, a date and time were
scheduled to conduct the interviews. Before the meetings, I sent participants an
information sheet (see appendix C) so that they could learn more about the research aims
etc., before we met up. This enabled them to prepare for the interview by informing them
about the study; providing time to think about any questions they might have; what to
expect during the interview; how their data were to be used, and ethical matters such as
how I would preserve anonymity and maintain confidentiality. The interviews lasted
between 34 and 97 minutes each.
For the other dataset, Robert Meadows and his colleagues, Sarah Nettleton, and Joanne
Neale (hereafter, the sleep team) gathered data from men and women in two residential
drug and alcohol rehabilitation services in England, who were receiving support for
alcohol and other substance dependency (Nettleton et al. 2017: 4). They recruited 28
participants, comprising 19 females and 9 males, all of whom had previously experienced
periods of rehabilitation. The sleep research team provided their participants with an
information sheet prior to conducting the interviews (see appendix D). Their interviews
lasted between around 60 and 85 minutes each. One reason for the difference in the
58
length of interviews in each dataset was the way the interview schedules were produced,
as the sleep team had a much more refined and elaborate interview schedule than I did,
which I now discuss.
3.3. The Interview Schedules
Rapley (2011: 5) suggests that some of the ‘how to interview literature’ proposes going
into interviews “armed with a list of questions.” But he proposes that when producing a
research schedule, researchers should minimally have some key words or even a list of
intricately crafted questions that they want to ask because if nothing else, it will provide
a reminder and something to makes notes on. For the dream dataset, a semi-structured
interview guide was used that included 13 questions/topics (see appendix E), that had
emerged from the sociology of dreams literature, for example: do you ever remember
your dreams, how frequently do you dream, do you have recurrent dreams, and so on.
The questions were short and mainly polar which, according to Raymond (2003), were
likely to tilt the responses towards a yes or no. In this respect, they could potentially
suppress fundamental aspects of the interactions (Drew et al 2006).
Although I had a brief topic guide, the idea was not to constrain the talk but to elicit views
and accounts in relation to the questions (Drew et al 2006). My main concern was to
access accounts about dreams, so even though the guide was quite focused, the talk in
situ was reflexively produced on a moment-by-moment basis (Rapley 2001, 2011). The
rationale for keeping the schedule to a minimum was so that I could focus on the
interview rather than getting side-tracked by trying to read through lots of information.
Furthermore, although I had a list of questions, I did not always ask the same questions
or produce them in the same order and sometimes the design of the questions varied.
59
Additionally, I used the schedule as a prompt and asked follow up questions such as ‘could
you explain a bit about that,’ or ‘can you give me an example of a dream.’
Participants’ contributions were often extensive and unconstrained, because I “adopted
the role of passive recipient“ (Drew et al 2006: 5). From a CA perspective, the key point
to note with respect to the interview guide is not so much to do with what questions are
asked or how they are designed, but rather how they are analysed and interpreted (Drew
et al 2006, Rapley 2001, 2011). So, although my topic guide could be construed as themed
and the questions were designed to achieve specific aims with specific audiences, because
the analytical focus is on the ‘action-orientation’ of the talk, which included analysis of
my own talk, the analysis is not “incomplete or partial” (Drew et al 2006:16). In this
respect, although the guide was not very detailed, the interviews provided rich data that
could be examined by focusing on the actions that were produced in situ, such as the turn-
taking, overlaps, interactional troubles, prosodic features, and so on. These are all matters
that will be explained in detail below.
As we will see in the analytical chapters, by focusing on the sequential aspects of the
interaction, categorial work emerged which highlighted issues to do with morality,
identity, accountability, and other matters that were managed through the turn-taking
production of actions. Each analytic chapter presents a core phenomenon. For example,
in chapter four, I focus on the way using dreams (from the sleep data) are described. In
chapter five, I focus on the use of contrast structures. While in chapter six I focus on stance
practices (Dubois 2007).
60
In contrast, the sleep team’s interview schedule was produced with some draft ideas
about various aspects of the research (see appendix F). Because they were using
numerous approaches for data collection, including diaries, actiwatches which record
movements and can then be downloaded to produce an actigraph/plot of movements
during a period of sleep, and interviews, it was a lot more complex than mine. The
interview schedule included a number of sections relating to various aspects of the
participants’ experiences. For example: what sleep was like prior to entering the
rehabilitative setting; how long they had been in the setting; their experiences of
substance use; and the quality of sleep before and after starting treatment; amongst other
questions. Under each topic heading, they included several prompts, as well as open and
closed questions. They had six overarching categories under which a few sub-questions
were included. For example, under the heading ‘sleep prior to entering the centre,’ they
had thirteen sub-questions to elicit information about good and bad sleep, childhood
sleep, feelings about going to bed, sleep before use of drugs or alcohol, too little or too
much sleep, sleep and depression and others. They also collected information about
demographic variables such as age, date of birth, employment status, level of education,
gender, or relationship status, for example, and these categories were recorded. The sleep
teams’ interviews were recorded and transcribed verbatim. For the thesis, I examined
their interview data to find instances where dreams were mentioned and then re-
transcribed the relevant sections using the Jefferson transcription system. I demonstrate
the differences between their approach to data analysis and mine when I re-analyse one
of their extracts below. Before moving on to discuss the ethical considerations, I provide
a summary of both datasets.
61
Summary table of both datasets
Interview ID Participant ID Duration of interviews Chapter ID of extracts
DD1 Julienne
38.36 Extract 6.4
Extract 6.5
DD2 Chloe and Isabel
97.53 Extract 5.1
Extract 5.9
Extract 6.15
DD3 Louise 47.33
DD4 Georgina
36.37 Extract 5.3
Extract 5.5
Extract 5.6
Extract 6.11
DD6 Janice 37.37 Extract 5.4
Extract 6.1
DD7 Jemima 35.28 Extract 5.2
DD8 Melanie 34.40 Extract 4.3
DD9 Stuart 45.26 Extract 6.16
DD10 Maureen 45.35
DD11 Julie 34.15
DD12 Tina 35.49
DD13 Norman 37.08 Extract 6.3
DD14 Ollie 35.12 Extract 5.7
Extract 6:13
DD15 Nigel 36.13 Extract 5.8
Extract 6.2
DD16 Daniel 47. 32 File corrupted, unable
to re-transcribe
DD17 Naomi 35.45 File corrupted, unable
to re-transcribe
DD18 David 41.46
Interview ID Participant ID Duration Chapter ID of extracts
SD1 Trisha 59.28 Extract 3.1
SD2 Patricia 1.00.11 Extract 4.3
62
Extract 5.3
SD3 Katie 60.11 Extract 4.2
SD4 Callie 57.53 Extract 4.6
SD5 Justin 84.48 Extract 4.4
SD7 Donna 1.13.11 Extract 6.6
SD8 Jonnie 1.06.47 Extract 4.8
SD9 Annie 1.02.20 Extract 4.1
SD10 TJ 75.71 Extract 4.5
SD11 Maria 58.10 Extract 4.7
3.4. Ethical Considerations
The research topic for the dream research was considered to be innocuous and unlikely
to pose any serious problems for either the researcher or participants. However, after
discussing whether to apply for ethics with my dissertation supervisor, we agreed that it
might be best in case the interviews triggered memories of a sensitive nature (Allmark et
al. 2009). Therefore, ethical permission was sought from and approved by the University
of Surrey Ethics Committee. At the start of each interview, participants signed a consent
form (appendix A). I reiterated the aims and purpose of the interviews and checked
whether they were comfortable to proceed. Participants consented to the use of parts of
the data in written outputs (see participant information sheet, appendix C, point 3).
In accordance with University of Surrey code of good research practice (2011/12
[2017/18]), regarding research on human subjects, participants’ identities were
protected by assigning a numerical value to digital records. Typed transcriptions were
labelled, 1,2,3 and so on, and to preserve anonymity and maintain confidentiality,
participants have been assigned psuedonyms. In line with the British Sociological
Association guidelines for ethical conduct in interviews (2017), participants were made
63
aware of their right to withdraw from the research at any time and informed that if this
occurred their data would be disposed of by shredding or deletion. Participants were
interviewed either in their own homes or at the university where they were studying or
working. One interview was arranged with a married couple who had initially agreed to
be interviewed separately, however due to their time constraints on the day they were
interviewed together. I agreed, as in addition to saving time, I thought it might offer
different insights than the individual interviews, which proved to be the case, as will be
seen in the analysis.
Participants were assured that confidentiality would be maintained in line with ethical
conventions for qualitative research reporting (BSA 2017, Gilbert and Stoneman 2015,
and the University of Surrey Ethics Committee guidance). The digitised interview data
are kept on my password protected, personal laptop. Typed transcripts are also stored in
this way and encrypted. All hard copy documents, including the transcripts and consent
forms are stored in a locked filing cabinet at my home. Participants were given the option
not to have the interview recorded if they preferred (BSA 2017), however nobody
objected. I also made handwritten (field) notes for recall purposes and informed
particpants why I was making these notes at the start of each interview. This has proven
to be beneficial for the thesis as it provided a detailed and reusable data set.
For the sleep and recovery study, ethical approval was granted by the University of York,
as the Principal Investigator who was leading the research worked there. Participants
consented to the use of data and were also made aware that; “Anonymised data from the
study will also be stored securely so that they can be used by other bona fide researchers.”
(see participant information sheet, appendix D). This meant that I could use their data in
64
the present thesis. All data were anonymised to ensure confidentiality and labelled as C1
(centre 1) and C2 (centre 2)1, with identifiers that linked the three components of each
participant’s data, namely, the interviews, a sleep diary, and graphical outputs from the
actiwatch data. Interview data were analysed and thematically coded. The actigraphy
data were downloaded and used in the sleep team’s interviews to guide the discussion of
sleep patterns and the dairies were also used to inform the interviews. The interviews
were recorded and transcribed verbatim. Data were stored securely in accordance with
BSA, University of Surrey and University of York research and integrity guidelines.
Additionally, both the dream and sleep data were securely handled and stored in line with
the more recently introduced GDPR Act (2018).
Potential participants were given verbal and written information about the study and all
participants signed consent forms indicating their willingness to participate voluntarily,
confidentially, and independently of any professional support they were receiving. For
this thesis, I was only given access to anonymised interview transcripts in which dreams
were specifically mentioned. Participants have been given new pseudonyms in the
present thesis. Having described the two data sets, the interview schedules and related
issues for research design and ethical considerations, I now move on to consider key
areas of ethnomethodology, conversation analysis and membership categorisation
analysis that are relevant for the thesis.
1 Data were given different labels in two separate papers by the research team; the labelling used here draws on Meadows et al. 2017.
65
3.5. Ethnomethodology: some features of practical sociological reasoning
The main point to bear in mind in this discussion of ethnomethodology is how it differs
from conventional sociology. Ethnomethodology is a perspective, rather than a method,
which is adopted for making sense of situated interactional events. As ethnomethodology
is a well-established approach in sociology, rather than providing a general overview of
the background, in line with the thesis aims, I only focus on the key ideas that are relevant
for my analysis. The section includes consideration of foundational concepts that
underpin EM, CA, and MCA, including: indexicality, reflexivity, social context,
accountability, warranting and the documentary method of interpretation. These are
technical terms that will be explained in more detail below. Additionally, the chapter
builds on what was identified in the previous chapters and provides an opportunity to
foreground the members’ methods that will be demonstrated below and discussed in the
empirical chapters to come. Subsequently, in addition to the foundational features of
ethnomethodology, it also foregrounds the conversation analytical methods that will be
demonstrated in the data analysis.
I comment below on the turn taking system, including turn construction units (TCUs),
transitional relevance places (TRPs), interactional troubles, preference, overlaps,
adjacency pairs, repairs, and other methods. Furthermore, as I argued in the previous
chapter, one of the main reasons for using a combined CA/MCA approach to data analysis
is that it makes it possible to demonstrate where in a piece of data identity and morality
are oriented towards and made relevant on a moment-by-moment basis. I argued that
this is an important reason for using both approaches in tandem. One of the earliest
discussions about how a gendered identity is accomplished was Garfinkel’s (1967)
discussion of Agnes, a male to female transgender, which I discuss below in relation to
66
the documentary method of interpretation (DMI). The reason for using this example is to
set the scene for what follows in the empirical chapters and to show that identity is
worked up in specific social contexts for specific interactional purposes. To show how the
ethnomethodological approach differs from conventional sociology, I begin by discussing
the way samples are generated and conceptualised.
3.5.1. Ethnomethodologically informed approaches to sampling
In much conventional sociology sampling differs in relation to what EM perceives to
count as data. Some of the main issues in conventional sociology relate to representation
and a concern with the way samples are constituted in relation to such factors as gender,
age, social class, and other demographic ‘variables,’ for example. It is also concerned with
issues relating to whether the sample is valid and authentic in the sense of being
representative of a large population (Silverman 1998). Additionally, data that are
generated are commonly coded and thematised and the themes are considered to be
demographically/structurally significant.
When I described the datasets above, I approached the discussion in a typically
conventional manner; however, this is not how I approached the data analysis. A key
point of difference from an EM perspective is that it is not concerned with who the
interviews are conducted with, or how to generate themes or code data; rather it is to do
with what is in the talk and how members of a setting orient towards it. As mentioned
earlier, it is this grounding of data in the talk that provides the warrant for analysts’
claims. So rather than looking for findings that are taken to be significant in relation to
the wider population, it treats members’ accounts of their actions as reflexively
constituted, with ‘no time out,’ and the accounts are perceived to be simultaneously
67
constitutive of those actions (Garfinkel 1984). Garfinkel’s (1967) discussion of the
documentary method of interpretation (discussed below) shows how members of a
setting construct meanings in a retrospective way, by constantly examining and revising
their meanings in the course of an interaction. So, the production of social ‘facts’ relating
to gender, social class, and so on, is a members’ accomplishment rather than an analyst’s
phenomenon. In this respect, as mentioned above, the present thesis contrasts with
approaches in conventional sociology. But even though the data were generated using
what might be referred to as ‘samples,’ this does not mean they are unsuitable for use in
the present study because the warrant for my analytical claims is in the data.
According to ten Have (2011), conversation analysts can use either, ‘pure’ or ‘applied’
sampling strategies. The former requires “selecting samples from many different sites
and looking for recurrent patterns and particular types of interactional events whose
features can be systematically compared” (Heritage 1988: 131). An applied approach
involves selecting instances of particular features in a single interview or in a series of
interviews. As ten Have (2011) notes, the main issue with either approach is whether
data can be directly compared, or whether data analysis focuses on a core category or
setting. Furthermore, he argues that, given the logic of CA (and MCA) is to scrutinise data
down to the minutest of details, when selecting data for analysis, any sample is useful if
it lends itself to microscopic examination. Additionally, Sacks (1992: 298) suggested that:
“It may be that we can come up with findings of considerable generality by looking at very
singular, particular things and by asking what it takes for these things to have come off.”
Therefore, the key to understanding an intended meaning in data is to consider what is
this utterance, or overlap, or non-response. and so on, are doing at each point of the
68
interaction. To make sense of data, it is therefore, necessary to examine first and second
pair parts, for example, questions and answers.
ten Have (2011) proposes that, if a project is exploratory, researchers might use any data
they have access to as long as it is recorded, but he suggests that if this is the case, analysts
will need to be sensitive to the setting and the way participants make it relevant in the
talk. Rapley (2001: 302-305) highlights three areas that analysts should think about
when using interview data. Firstly, they should have a sensitivity to the accounting work
of IEs, and this should be a central concern in the analysis. Secondly, this accounting work
should be interpreted in direct relation to the context of its production. Finally, he argues
that researchers should maintain an awareness of IRs’ talk when analysing data as this
should be a central concern, whatever analytic stance is taken. Furthermore, Sacks
(1984) suggested that analysts should listen to recordings with ‘unmotivated attention,’
rather than having prespecified goals, as is the case with conventional analytical
approaches, whereby analysts may be looking for themes, for example. What this means
from CA/MCA perspective is summed up by Schegloff (1996: 172), who argues that
analysts should proceed by ‘noticing’ initially unremarkable features of talk or
behaviours. This involves repeatedly listening to the recordings until you have identified
the materials needed for analysis and interpretation.
All the above considerations are relevant to my analysis because I had access to these two
recorded data sets described above, so rather than looking for data elsewhere, for
example on dream sharing websites, I decided to use them. My main concern was that I
approached the analysis in an unmotivated way. However, there are two exceptions to
consider in this respect. Firstly, I had identified some concepts from the literature, but
69
these have only been considered in so far as I can demonstrate if and how they have been
topicalised and made relevant in the data. Secondly, for the sleep data, it was necessary
to only use extracts that made explicit mentions of dreams. So even though both datasets
had been used for different projects, they still lent themselves to further scrutiny for the
present thesis in relation to its aims. Furthermore, I have included analysis of the IRs and
IEs talk and have been sensitive to the interactional settings in which data were produced.
This was particularly important for participants in the sleep data as the interviews were
about their lived experiences, so the two contexts were markedly different.
Ethnomethodology is concerned with the above issues because its fundamental interest
relates to how the data are worked up in situ, which is to say how talk-in-interaction
reflexively constitutes the setting in which it occurs, and accordingly, how it is indexically
linked to the setting.
3.5.2. Reflexivity and indexicality
Ethnomethodology is founded upon what Garfinkel calls 'reflexively accountable action'
(Button 1991: 6). Garfinkel (1967) argued that members of a setting make use of
reflexivity to produce, accomplish and demonstrate their understandings of how the
social world operates. The task of ethnomethodology is to uncover these ordinary
workings of society by examining social actions that cannot be simplistically explained
away as events in a pre-existing external social order, but rather that can be adequately
observed independently of the social order in which they are produced (Button 1991: 7).
From an EM perspective, both lay people and professional analysts are practical
sociologists who mutually attempt to find order in the conduct of their everyday affairs
(Garfinkel 1967).
70
To simplify, reflexivity constitutes a members’ method for doing action and it cannot be
disentangled from actions that are locally constituted rather than being shaped by some
external force that exists outside of the setting (Anderson and Sharrock 2017). With
respect to making sense of action, it is not the case that people automatically know what
another person means because they share a common culture (Anderson and Sharrock
2017). However, it is the case that people can arrive at a mutually recognisable
understanding. For example, as we will see in chapter four, when the IR refers to the
concept of ‘sleep latency,’ which is a social science concept and not one that is necessarily
going to be understood by the IE, he then self-repairs it by saying “you fell asleep.” By
redescribing it in this way it is possible to see the IR’s reflexive work as it is displayed in
the talk. Furthermore, it reconstitutes the meaning of the talk in a way that is treated by
the IR as having the potential for the IE to more easily be able to understand the technical
language. In this respect, it reconstitutes the setting by moving from technical
terminology to ordinary talk through which the IR and IE can arrive at a mutual
commonsense understanding (Heritage 1984).
Reflexivity is intertwined with indexicality, indexical expressions are phrases, idioms,
words, and so on, which are used in an occasioned way in specific situated contexts (for
example, classic examples are ‘this’ and ‘that’ they have no reference or meaning outside
of their occasioned uses). As Barnes and Law (1976: 224) put it “expressions are indexical
when their meanings depend upon the particular contexts of their use, and they are
continually negotiated and renegotiated by actors on the basis of what everyone knows."
This is because ‘rules’ exist for making sense of actions, but these are continuously subject
to renegotiation with respect to their applicability and relevance to parties to talk, they
are thereby reflexively constituted as rules. So, the “maintenance of a world, including the
71
developing course of an interaction, is mutually understood by the participants as being
part of the same world” (Schegloff 1991: 151). In this respect social context is
fundamental for making sense of actions.
3.5.3. Social Context
In much social scientific research, ‘context’ refers to the relationship between speakers,
their identities and institutional setting, and, as mentioned above, it is common for
researchers to recruit people with specific demographic variables such as age, social
class, and gender, and so on. Hence the make-up of samples is often, in effect, predefined
(Silverman 1998). In ethnomethodological studies, however, these kinds of demographic
questions are not usually of concern as the emphasis is on the orderliness of phenomena,
which are taken to be independent of particular kinds of people, settings or cohorts and
more about the interactional context and the talk that emerges within it (Psathas 1995:
45, Rapley 2004/11). According to Goodwin and Heritage (1990, pp, 288-289), the
empirical constitution of context is a dynamic rather than static process. From this
perspective, all actions can be perceived to be simultaneously ‘context shaped,’ on the
one hand, because the background expectancies from which action emerges are the
primary organisation for its production and interpretation. On the other hand, they can
also be seen as ‘context renewing’ since these expectancies are used to shape subsequent
actions by members of a setting. This means that while a setting may provide the ‘sense’
for current actions, subsequent members’ actions will redetermine the setting by
sustaining, modifying, updating, or transforming it (Goodwin and Heritage 1990).
Therefore, in so far as social facts exist, they are talked into being as culturally relevant
actions (Heritage 1984a). It is this sense-making process that provides analysts with the
means to make their own sense of a piece of data which provides the warrant for their
72
claims. So unlike conventional sociology, whereby conventional sociologists might step
outside of the immediate context to identify sources of information to justify their claims
about topics such as ‘class bias,’ and so on, it is EM/CA/MCAs insistence on grounding
analysis in the data that it becomes possible to gain a sense of participants meanings. But,
as mentioned above, this can only be done by examining what a response to a question,
for example is doing. Therefore, for the present thesis, analytical warrants are
demonstrated in the descriptions of the dream and the way they are responded to and by
scrutinising the data in this way it becomes possible to see what is being made
accountable by both IRs and IEs as in the example above, relative to the use of technical
language.
3.5.4. Accountability in social interaction
According to Heritage (1990: 26) ethnomethodology and conversation analysis are
concerned with accountability on two levels. Firstly, the taken for granted level through
which reasoning is created and sustained, and secondly the level of overt explanation
wherein people explain what they are doing with respect to their reasons, motives or
causes. For Jayyusi (1984, 1991), accounts about actions, behaviours, events, and so on,
are always morally accountable. This is rendered visible in the way agreements or
disagreements, for example, are organised, or in activities such as praising or blaming. In
this respect, particular action ascriptions are tied to social and interactional obligations
which are visible in the moral organisation of people’s accounts. One of the aims of EM
and CA is to elucidate the normative embeddedness of accountability in the background
expectancies of social life (Garfinkel 1967), because to render something or someone
accountable for an action is a practical sociological problem. So, with respect to the
present thesis, a fundamental part of my task is to explore what is made accountable, how
73
it is responded to, and what next interactional method is invoked in relation to a previous
action. This is necessary because the production of social order is reflexively constituted,
and accountability is a members’ method for doing action. Therefore, like, reflexivity,
warranting, indexicality, it cannot be disentangled from the action, and moreover, order
is locally constituted rather than shaped by some external force that exists outside of a
setting (Anderson and Sharrock 2017). As we will see throughout the empirical chapters,
the sense of an action is displayed through the sequential and categorial work that is
produced by both interviewers and interviewees. Accounts are, among other things, ways
of explaining actions, events, and so on, and they may include justifications, for example,
which are used in the process of describing events to accomplish practical actions in situ.
As we will see in the empirical chapters five and six, IEs often invoke a general rule to the
specific events they are describing in their dreams to make a display of their
understanding that ‘killing dogs,’ or killing babies,’ or ‘throwing salt’ into open wounds is
morally implicative. This process is what Garfinkel refers to as the documentary method
of interpretation.
3.5.5. The documentary method of interpretation and the case of Agnes
As mentioned above, one of Garfinkel’s main interests was to show how the “seen but
unnoticed background expectancies” or taken for granted methods used by ordinary
people could be rendered observable for analysts and lay people alike. He (1967:37)
argues that this
“foundational work [makes it] possible to pursue further tasks of clarifying
their character and operation, of relating them to the processes of concerted
74
actions, and assigning them their place in an empirically imaginable society”
(Garfinkel 1967: 37).
Garfinkel proposed that while conventional sociologists predicate their analyses by
treating social structures such as religion or gender, or social class and so on, as the basis
for their research (as discussed above), they “rarely see, as a task of inquiry in its own
right, the general question of how any such commonsense world is possible” (1967: 37).
For Garfinkel, this represented an irony in that a discipline which sought to uncover all
manner of things about the social world had, up to that point, failed to acknowledge its
own methods for making attributions, accounting for, making accountable, or doing
interpretations and so on. Garfinkel demonstrated how it was possible to uncover the
everyday, taken for granted, commonsense methods involved in the documentary
method of interpretation (DMI), through what he referred to as ‘breaching’ experiments.
These were undertaken by some of his students and were used to show how people’s
background expectations could be brought to the foreground when social norms were
disrupted.
In one such experiment, two student researchers were tasked with transferring
information from clinical records onto coding sheets. Garfinkel observed that in addition
to using their formalised administrative processes of reading, writing, and so on, to
produce the records, they ‘filled in,’ or made sense of any missing information by drawing
on their tacit knowledge of how records should be completed. This showed that even
when faced with unfamiliar information, the records could be completed by the students
as they reflexively made sense of the situation by applying what was already known to
something unknown. So, the knowledge gained from having previously completed coding
75
activities made it possible to provide the missing information, which involved using
ordinary common-sense reasoning in the specific form of the DMI.
Thus, the DMI is effectively a sense-making procedure which applies to the ways in which
members of a collectivity make sense of any given social situation by understanding how
to apply rules to accomplish specific practical tasks. So, to understand whether a person
is talking ironically, angrily, bemusedly, jokingly etc., a method for making it hearable as
such would need to be invoked. Resolving ambiguities in the social world is, therefore,
accomplished through the ongoing actions of the members of the collectivity. A scene or
setting is rendered intelligible by reference to a general observable pattern, which in turn
is reinforced or disconfirmed by reference to particular features.
The DMI is central to the analysis in this thesis as exploring how members of the two
specific dream telling settings ‘do’ talking about dreams and talking about sleep and
recovery, as well as managing the interview topic and setting, involves uncovering the
particulars and patterns that are produced when accounting for social action. As I
suggested in the previous chapter, although some of the literature I reviewed pointed
towards the identity work that was involved for people in recovery from substance use,
moral work is also involved. To provide some illustration of how this is accomplished
using the DMI, I will review Garfinkel’s account of the case of Agnes, a male to female
transgender individual.
As mentioned above and in the previous chapter, one of the main considerations for the
thesis is that conventional sociology tends to confuse ‘topic’ and ‘resource’ (Zimmerman
and Pollner, 1970). For example, gender might be treated as an attribute that is used to
76
draw inferences about sociological matters such as inequalities in health, employment,
education, addiction recovery, types of dreams, and so on. In this respect, gender is
treated straightforwardly as a preconceived starting point for the focus of a study.
However, from an ethnomethodological perspective gender is perceived to be an
accomplishment that is brought off by people doing gendered actions (West and
Zimmerman 1987). One of the most well documented ethnomethodological examples of
gender accomplishment is Garfinkel’s (1967) study of Agnes, a male to female
transgender woman.
Garfinkel met with Agnes on numerous occasions to discuss her experiences of
transitioning from male to female. The meetings were recorded which enabled him to
examine the descriptive methods Agnes used to produce her female gender. Garfinkel
identified a range of methods that Agnes used in their meetings as she described how she
learnt to walk, talk, and dress in ways that she perceived a ‘natural, normal’ female of her
social class and age might do. For Agnes, gender served as a resource that she could use
to ‘pass’ as a female. By treating gender as a resource, rather than topic she was able to
account for her identity related experiences, however, at times the accounts varied. This
illustrated that both gender and identity are negotiated and fluid rather than stable ‘social
facts’, because the intelligibility of an action as gendered, or aged, or classed and so on, is
based on a symmetry between the action and its recognition as such in situated contexts
(Heritage 1984: 179). Thus, the precise methods people use for doing specific actions
depend on the context, the background knowledge of members within the setting and the
activities that are at work. Agnes’ knowledge of how to pass as a female drew on her
omnirelevant experiences outside of the meetings with Garfinkel, but she also produced
77
contingent categories in the situated context of their meetings (for e.g., responding to
questions).
Furthermore, as the DMI involves treating an “actual appearance as the document of, as
pointing to, and, as standing on behalf of a presupposed underlying pattern” (Garfinkel
1967:78), Agnes’ accomplishment of a female gender identity was based on her
assumptions and observations of the underlying patterns that natural, normal females do
such as walking, posturing, displaying emotion, talking and so on. This is not to say that
all females walk and talk etc., in similar ways, but that Agnes’ interpretation of such
actions is what she drew upon to represent versions of herself and her construction of
gender and identity demonstrated the DMI in action, as she saw it and applied it to her
own situation.
Agnes was not only producing her gendered identity, but also what Garfinkel (1967: 111)
refers to as “objective, institutionalized facts, i.e., moral facts.” The construction of
identity is always a moral concern and routinised patterns of action represent
institutional orders in which rights, obligations, and predicates “are linked not only to
personal face and identity, but also to macro-social institutions” (Heritage 1998: 2).
Accordingly, Garfinkel (1967) proposed that recognising the institutional character of
talk by focussing on the rules and practices that render its moral order visible is a
fundamental aspect of the ethnomethodological project. From an ethnomethodological
perspective, identity and morality are perceived of and displayed through orientations to
specific membership categories. Ethnomethodology and CA are closely interconnected in
many of their basic views about how society is done through practices including,
78
accounting, warranting, indexicality, reflexivity, and so on, that have been outlined in this
section.
3.6. Conversation analysis
Conversation analysis adopts the same analytical outlook as EM, but its data are always
recorded instances of talk-in-interaction (which includes video and other visual
interactions, for example TV shows, news interviews and so on), whereas
ethnomethodological studies can be done simply through observations, for example. The
basic premise is that talk can be transcribed in detail to reveal how members,’ reflexively
accomplish order. Sacks developed the field of CA after observing the routine strategies
and techniques that were used in the course of phone calls to a suicide prevention centre,
where he was undertaking an internship. However, due to his early death in 1975, it has
become an established field through the work of others, most notably its co-founders,
Emmanuel Schegloff and Gail Jefferson, who transcribed and introduced the two-volume
text Lectures on Conversation (1992), which documents a series of lectures written by
Sacks in the 1960s and 70s. The key conversational structures, which constitute the
foundations of CA, were outlined by Sacks et al (1974), as follows. All forms of talk
proceed through the turn-taking system. This comprises two components: the
allocational mechanism which relates to the distribution of turns, and the words people
use, which display their understanding about what they take co-participants’ talk to
mean. According to Sacks et at (1974), talk is constructed through turn constructional
units (TCUs) which are sequentially organised using clauses, words, and phrases. Turn
construction units may consist of whole sentences, single words, an utterance, or even a
pause, for example. But what is treated as a TCU is revealed in the sequential practices of
interlocutors.
79
In general, conversation proceeds relatively unproblematically as speakers and listeners
orient towards turn allocations. Turn allocations are produced through turn selection, so
if a current speaker selects a next speaker, by asking a question or directly naming
someone, for example, the selected speaker is expected to take up the next turn (Sacks et
al 1974). However, if this does not happen, one of two things may occur, the current
speaker can hold the turn, or another person can self-select to speak at the next turn
relevant place by continuing to add TCUs. This often occurs when nobody else takes a
turn at a next available slot (Sacks et al. 1974). In addition to the focus on turns, a critical
focus in CA is on timings as they reveal the fine tuning of the orderliness between
speakers. For example, in the case of overlapping talk it might appear as if a speaker is
talking out of turn (Lerner 1989), however, overlaps are generally produced for turn take
up rather than constituting an error of timing. So, they are specifically invoked because a
next speaker has something to say. However, it is not always the case that a current
speaker cedes the floor to allow that uptake, which may lead to what Jefferson (2015)
refers to as interactional troubles.
In addition to the overall organisation of sequences, other methods are used to help
produce and sustain the conversational order. Adjacency pairs such as questions and
answers, include a first pair part (FPP) and second pair part (SPP), in which the first part
makes the production of the second part relevant. According to Schegloff and Sacks
(1973), adjacency pairs are used for the production of intersubjectivity and
accountability which is revealed through preference structures (Schegloff 2007b). For
example, a preferred adjacency pairing might be invoked straightforwardly in that a first
speaker asks: “did you dream last night,” and the speaker responds: “yes I did.” In this
instance the pairing is produced in an immediately adjacent turn and there is no sign of
80
trouble in the talk. However, as Pomerantz (1984) has noted, it is not always the case that
a response to a question will be elicited at the point of asking. For example, dispreferred
responses, such as rejecting an invitation, are more likely to be accompanied with
hesitancies, gaps, silences, accounts, and other actions. They may also take up a greater
number of turns than a preferred response (Curl and Drew 2008).
Furthermore, some troubles in talk, such as disagreements, errors, or misinterpretations
may warrant a self- repair or other repair, as we saw above with the use of technical
language. In some instances, repairs may be required where there is no mistake as such,
but when one of the speakers is searching for a word, or a name for example (Schegloff et
al. 1974). Additionally, if the contextual relevance of a question is unclear for a recipient,
the question becomes an accountable matter, and the subsequent intersubjective work is
rendered visible as speakers attempt to co-repair the interactional order. This reveals
that the way questions or requests for information are formulated is fundamental for
‘getting at’ the preferred outcome (Stokoe 2018). Moreover, it is a significant
epistemological/methodological concern for analysts in terms of their claims, as the
warrant for treating a greeting as a greeting, rather than an announcement, for example,
must be demonstrated by assessing how the action is treated by a recipient (Frances and
Hester 2012).
In addition to the ‘mechanics’ of talk, one of the key features of conversation is its
rhetorical character. As we observed in the sociological literature reviewed in chapter
two, rhetoric was identified as a relevant issue with respect to dream telling (Fine and
Fischer Leighton 1993). Rhetorical work can also be observed in the interviews analysed
in this thesis because speakers have stakes and interests in the talk they produce, so they
81
use persuasive strategies to manage their concerns (Edwards and Potter 1992, Potter
1996). As well as the sequential actions, I show how members in my datasets use
categories to display their interests.
3.7. Membership Categorisation Analysis
Sacks was not only interested in how sequences of talk unfold on a moment by moment
or procedural basis, but also the mundane labels or categories that are used by members
of a population. As with the use of sequential methods, Sacks questioned why categories
are invoked, what they are used for, how are they oriented towards, and what gets
accomplished by their use. He argued that categories are used to display membership of
a group and thereby define a population. Membership categorisation devices (MCDs) are
categories plus the rules of application that are constituted by members of a population
(Sacks 1992:40).
Examples of membership categories would be such things as mothers, daughters, sons,
and fathers which all belong to the collection ‘family.’ Furthermore, members, i.e., people
can belong to more than one collection. For example, family members may also belong to
the ‘stage of life’ collection as mothers and fathers are normally older than their sons and
daughters. Members of a family can also be defined by gender and individual members of
a family may belong to other category collections such as occupation, or interest groups
or by their friendship groups, and so on. Therefore, a lot of knowledge that “members of
a society have about a society is stored in terms of these categories” (Sacks 1992: 40).
Sacks argued that membership categories have rules of its application, which he called
MCDs, from which a category can be heard or read off as doing specific work. For example,
the economy rule works such that, if a category is referentially adequate to define a
82
population, then that is sufficient as recipients will be able to hear the tacit relationship
to the category (Sacks 1992). So, if the category ‘mother’, for example, is invoked there is
no need to define her as belonging to other collections such as her occupation, ethnicity,
stage of life and so on (although this is contextually dependent). Similarly, the consistency
rule works such that, if a person from one device is categorised, for example ‘lecturer,’
then other people from that collection may also be categorised, such as ‘students,’
‘administrators,’ or ‘Deans of faculty.’ Sacks referred to these as standardised relational
pairs (SRPs) that can be co-selected to define a population. So, in terms of the present
thesis, interviewer and interviewee constitute an SRP, hence I focus on this relationship
throughout the empirical chapters.
Categories are also tied to incumbents’ predicates, attendant rights, and obligations
(Hester and Eglin 1997, Watson 1997) and so they are inference-rich and thus a key
source of information about a population and its members (Schegloff 2007a). Sacks
(1992) showed how these rules could be applied by examining the opening of a child’s
story: “the baby cried, the mommy picked it up.” It might reasonably be assumed from
this sentence that the baby and mommy belong to the collection family. It is also
reasonable to assume that a mother would pick up her crying baby as this is a normative
social action. Sacks referred to these related actions as category bound activities (CBAs).
Furthermore, the idea of mothers picking up their crying babies is also morally
implicative as it is reasonable to assume that a mother should pick up her crying baby
(Jayyusi 1984). Category bound activities such as these are thus members’ inference-rich
devices (MIRs) that are used to make all kinds of judgements about the way the social
world is ordered. For example, if the story began the ‘baby cried, the mommy slapped it’
83
(King 2010), we would need to consider the context in which such an account has been
produced, as slapping a child might be perceived as a category out of bounds activity. As
we will see throughout the empirical chapters, identity work is accomplished through the
production of categories in relation to the rights, obligations and so on, as members of
the interview setting in which institutional talk is accomplished. It is also oriented
towards in the accounting work that is done, for example, as people in recovery, as people
who have using dreams, and as people who have dreams that could potentially cast them
in a bad light. Therefore, Sacks work is critical for making sense of the data with respect
to both categories and sequences.
3.7.1. Combining conversation and membership categorisation analysis
Despite the foregoing focus on rules, CA and MCA have largely been used in isolation of
each other until quite recently. These strands of Sacks’ work diverged due to the
perception that there may be a difficulty in locating categories because of a misperception
about the “disorderliness of category relevancies” (Stokoe and Attenborough 2015: 52)
and a debate about ‘analytical promiscuity,’ which refers to drawing inferences that are
not explicitly observable in the data. So, using a combined approach has previously been
considered as problematic. Furthermore, as mentioned above, analysts need to be
cautious when attributing actions to a piece of data (for a good overview, see the debate
between Stokoe, Fitzgerald, Gardner, Rapley, Silverman and Whitehead, and others in the
2012 edition of Discourse Studies). On one side of the debate is the idea that inferences
can be drawn if a topic is made relevant and oriented towards even if it is not explicitly
stated. On the other side is the idea that analysts must be able to point specifically to the
way a category is being used by members of the setting, so no inferential reasoning is
acceptable by the analyst.
84
According to Schegloff (1999: 570), however, CA’s insistence on relevance to the parties
does not need to be met by showing the parties talking about the thing whose relevance
is in question, but by showing that the parties are orienting towards it in doing whatever
they do.” For example, the first pair part (FPP) and second pair part (SPP) in adjacency
pairings as first speakers are unlikely to explicitly state that they expect co-participants
to respond to a request, invitation, blaming and so on (although they might do), and
second speakers are unlikely to explicitly state that their comments are relevant to the
previous utterance (Schegloff 1999). But we can see if this is the case by using the “’next-
turn proof procedure for ascertaining the meaning of an action” (Heritage 2018: 15),
which involves observing how speakers display, in their sequential next turns, an
understanding of what the previous turn was about (Hutchby and Wooffitt 1999: 15).
Wetherell (1998: 410) contends that Schegloff upholds an “unnecessarily restricted
notion of analytic description,” meaning that inferences can be made from the ‘sense’ of
the talk. Furthermore, Stokoe (2012b: 347) argues that “categories were given their
meaning reflexively and indexically, in and through action-accomplishing practices.” She
suggests that “the potential ambiguity of some scenario or action, and its alternative
readings, is precisely the issue at stake for participants, and so analysable empirically”
(2012b: 348). What this means for analysts is that if data display a sense of categorial
ambiguity it may be necessary to use the next turn proof procedure to see how or whether
the ambiguity is resolved to provide the warrant for a claim.
Bearing in mind that when talking about dreams, tellers might potentially invoke any
category, it is important to focus on objects that are indexed from outside of the dream
as well as those used to describe actions within them. As exogenous categories may be
85
invoked to accomplish an action. As we saw above, Agnes’ knowledge of how to pass as a
natural, normal female, drew on her omnirelevant experiences outside of the meetings
with Garfinkel, but she also produced contingent categories in situ when accounting for
her experiences. We will see similar work in the empirical chapters relative to both
accounting for dreams and ‘doing being members’ of the interview setting.
Furthermore, as Silverman (1998) argues, membership categorisation is always
potentially ambiguous as categories may have more than one meaning, so locating that
meaning is not simply a matter of knowing how to use and apply the methods and rules,
it is also a matter of assessing how categories are being used rhetorically and what is
being accomplished. I demonstrate some of the rhetorical work in chapter six when
examining stance practices (Dubois 2007). Having sketched the main components of
MCA, I now consider how CA and MCA can be practically combined and conclude the
section with an applied example from the sleep data.
3.7.2. A practical example of how CA and MCA can be brought together
In this section, I re-analyse an extract from Nettleton et al (2016) to demonstrate how
CA and MCA can be combined. This provides me with an opportunity to introduce the
reader to the Jefferson transcription system (see appendix G) and consider some more of
the technical language of CA. It also constitutes a preliminary analysis that demonstrates
some of the methods, practices and actions that will be brought out further in the
empirical chapters. Just to recap, when doing CA, it is necessary to mark out certain
features of the talk to provide the reader with a way of understanding specific actions in
the data. This involves using a set of symbols to capture methods in use; including
aspirations, in turn silences, cut offs, increased pitch, stretched words, rapid speech,
86
overlaps, loud speech, emphasis, contiguously latched turns and falling intonation, for
example. These are technical terms that are included in the Jefferson transcription
system, which I return to throughout the empirical chapters to clarify their meanings and
intended uses in situ. Additionally, the extracts are line numbered, so that the reader can
refer to the extract to follow the analysis. As mentioned previously, this is important in
terms of providing a warrant for analytical claims. The reason for re-analysing the
forthcoming extract is to illustrate the power of using a combination of CA/MCA,
particularly in relation to data that have been previously analysed using conventional
sociology.
Nettleton et al’s (2016:4) interest was in how their participants ‘do’ sleep in rehabilitative
settings and they argue that by using a range of research methods (i.e., diaries, interviews
and actigraphs), they have “side-stepped apriori ontology sleep” and demonstrated its
multiplicity and situatedness. This has been revealed by “listening to sleep talk” (Nettleton
et al., 2016: 11, my emphasis). Furthermore, one of the concepts they discuss relates to
the idea that sleep is:
“liminal, rather than dichotomous, [it] emerges in particular in instances of
(un)consciousness reflexivity. Participants describe waking themselves up
when they are asleep. Trisha comments on how she unconsciously, yet
reflexively, wakes herself up from a bad dream, relieved that she ‘managed
to pull myself out of the dream and I was so glad I managed to get out’.”
(Nettleton et al 2016: 11, my emphasis).
87
This is their only comment on Trisha’s data and as we can see they have used a
decontextualised quote to support their claim. In what follows, I have re-transcribed the
actual interview data using the Jefferson transcription system and present a re-analysis
to show both why Nettleton et al’s account of the data is problematic from a CA
perspective and to illustrate the importance of combining CA and MCA. Just to note, on
first encountering CA transcription, it can take a while to get used to in terms of how to
read it because it tries to capture the minutiae of the talk, including overlaps, pauses,
silence, cut off aspiration, and so on. Additionally, it tries to capture the talk as it is said
and heard, including such things as grammatical errors, mispronunciations, and other
prosodic features. Therefore, unlike conventional sociological transcriptions of interview
data, for example, it does not clean the data but instead makes it appear messy. As can be
seen if we compare the way Nettleton and colleagues have presented the data and the
way I have re-presented it.
Extract 3.1: SD1: Trisha
1. Int: okay .hh so(0.4)you think that might be linked up
2. with your sleep do y- o::r you because your dre::ams
3. se- a seem to >really< ha- have religious .hhh=
4. T: =yeah [they er ]
5. Int: [y’know l=]ike you were saying about >you’d have to
6. get married to the devil< sort of thing .HH kinda
7. IS THAT WHAT YOU MEANT when you said ab[out.]=
8. T: =[yeah]yeah
9. an then the other night [I I h]ad (.)erm a dre::am=
10. Int: [mhmm ]
11. T: =>.hh it was my mum but it wasn’t my [mum]<(.)
12. Int: [mmm]
13. T: [an ]she’d say sorry your dad’s not your dad=
14. Int: [mmm]
15. T: =and .hh(0.4)in the dream he: was my dad
16. T: an she wanted me to go an se[e hi]m but(.)=
17. Int: [okay]
18. T: =an I used to pu- manage to pul[l myself=]
19. Int: [mmm yeah ]
20. T: =out of the dream en I was so glad .hh
21. that I(he)managed .hh to get out of the room as well=
22. Int: =okay yeah ye::ah
88
Another point to note, is that I am not going to undertake a complete line by line analysis
of this example of dream talk at this stage but do want to highlight the some of the
symbols that are used to mark out aspects of data within the Jefferson system.
Furthermore, given the foregoing discussion of the need to provide a warrant in the data
for making analytical claims, the critical question to be asked of this extract, is where is
the analytical warrant for this dream being called a ‘bad’ dream’? I come back to this
towards the end of the discussion to illustrate the significance of using a combined
approach. Just prior to this extract, Trisha and the interviewer have been talking about
Trisha’s church attendance. Over lines 1-7, the interviewer is trying to establish whether
Trisha’s sleep and dreams are linked to her religiosity and whether this was what Trisha
was referring to when she said she dreamt of having to marry the devil. The question at
line 7, is receipted by Trisha with a repeated affirmative agreement token in overlap
(‘yeah,’ line 8). We know it’s a question because it is delivered with the falling intonation
(i.e., the period/full stop at the end of ‘out.’), it also receives a response in the next turn.
In this instance it is what is known as a ‘preferred response’ because it is an agreement,
but it is delivered without hesitancies, pauses and other indicators that Trisha is likely to
disagree (Pomerantz 1984). In CA terms, this sequence is also known as an adjacency
pair, question and answer (FPP and SPP), as described above. Trisha takes up the turn
with a repeat and agreement, ‘yeah,’ after the overlap, which is indicated by the square
brackets at the beginning and end of Trisha’s first [‘yeah’], line 8 (and the IR’s [‘out.’], line
7). Furthermore, she is taking the turn at a transition relevant place (TRP) as the IRs
question can be heard as a ‘turn completion’ therefore a space has opened for a new turn
to be taken (Sacks et al 1974). Additionally, the IR’s question constitutes a turn
construction unit (TCU) as the turn is recognised by both the IR and IE as having been
completed (Sacks et al 1974). Then over lines 9 - 21, Trisha recounts a recent dream (‘the
89
other night’) in which her mum, who’s not her mum (line 11), tells Trisha, that her dad is
‘not’ her dad (line 13). The underlining of the word ‘not’ indicates that it has hearably
been delivered with emphasis, we see this again at line 15, on the word ‘he’. The temporal
referent, ‘recent dream’ (line 9), substantiates the occurrence of the dream and displays
its facticity (Potter 1996). As we will see in the empirical chapters, the use of temporal
markers, geographical locations, and other categories, strengthens accounts about
dreams by orienting towards them as real events, which achieves a mutually recognisable
and intelligible sense of meaning between IEs and IRs.
The emphasis on both ‘not’ and ‘he’ imply that the ‘he’ in question is the devil, who her
mum in the dream wants her to go and see (line 16). This is a good example of why there
needs to be a warrant for making a claim about a piece of data, as had there been no
emphasis it would have been difficult to make sense of whether Trisha’s intended
meaning related to the devil or her dad. Furthermore, the ‘mum’ in the dream is being
‘un-motherly’ like by wanting her daughter to go and see the devil. This is an example of
a category out of bounds activity (COBA), which I discuss more fully in chapter five. It also
highlights Sacks point about the category being tied to the rules of application, as such
constitutes the MCD ‘family.’ The ‘but’ and hearable short in-turn pause, marked by the
‘(.)’ (line 16), are produced by Trisha to represent herself as having some trouble with
going to meet the devil. These are critical features for identifying the inferential work
here, as they can be heard as signalling an objection to going to see him, i.e., the devil, not
her dad. Additionally, the contrast is invoked as a two-part contrast method: ‘I was
dreaming of doing X but Y,’ i.e., I was dreaming of having to go and see the devil but didn’t
want to, as I will demonstrate in chapter five, this device is a routine feature of dream
telling wherein the content is being displayed as problematic by the teller. The cut off ‘pu-
90
‘ can be heard as ‘pull’ because it is immediately self-repaired to ‘manage to pull’ (line 18).
Furthermore, the turn is formulated to convey a sense of struggle and effort on Trisha’s
part. By making the stance move from ‘pulling herself ‘out of the dream’ (line 20), to
having ‘managed to pull’ herself out, she is making a display that she had to work at it
which also represents the facticity of the dream and that she did not like it. Furthermore,
the equal signs at the end of line 16 and beginning of line 18, are used to show that her
turn is “through-produced” (Benwell and Stokoe 2006:73). This means that Trisha has
continued to complete her turn even though it has been broken up because there is an
overlap between the start and completion of the turn (line 17). Additionally, in saying she
was ‘so glad’ (line 20) as opposed to just ‘glad,’ Trisha places further emphasis on the way
she is treating the dream.
In addition to the rhetorical and persuasive work that is produced to emphasise her
struggle, Trisha is presenting herself as struggling to get out of the room. So, she is
working to get the IR to understand the dream in a particular way, specifically, as a ‘bad’
dream, which is how Nettleton et al (2016) describe it. However, by doing so they
unreflexively accept Trisha’s rhetorical work. The significance of this is that they are
employing their own commonsense reasoning to draw the inference that it is a ‘bad’
dream even though she does not say so much. Moreover, they do not draw attention,
either to their own reasoning or to Trisha’s rhetorical work, which is an example of the
topic/ resource issue that the thesis seeks to resolve. This is why using the combined
CA/MCA approach is so significant because Trisha’s own work is rendered observable
and reportable for analytical purposes. Furthermore, it shows precisely how this
approach moves beyond conventional sociological approaches.
91
The whole extract turns on the category’s ‘religion’ and the ‘devil.’ As we saw in some of
the sociology of dreams literature in the previous chapter, some theorists argued that
dreams operate through a system of binary opposites, such as the sacred and profane (see
for example, Bulkeley 2007, Vester 1993, Williams 2011, Nell 2014). However, in the
reviewed literature these categories were introduced by the researchers rather than their
participants and treated unproblematically as reflecting something about the way
dreams ‘reflect’ the social world through cultural symbols, events, and so on. The
difference with the analysis in the present thesis is that we can see when they are invoked,
who by, and what interactional work they are doing, which is in line with the thesis aims.
With respect to the categorial work, by accepting the IE’s description about the
relationship between her waking and dreaming experiences, Trisha produces her
identity as someone who has morally accountable dreams. Additionally, the IR’s identity
is made relevant through the opening question and the subsequent pursuit of this
particular meaning because she has an agenda (lines 1-8). By accepting the initial
question Trisha orients to her identity as IE. This talks both the interview setting and
their co-membership of the MCD “research device” into being (Whitehead and Baldry
2018: 137). Finally, in addition to the MCs ‘religion’ and ‘devil,’ Trisha invokes her
membership of the MCDs ‘family’ and ‘stage of life’ (daughter, mum, dad), as well as
collections R and K (Sacks 1992) dad/mum, daughter/dad/mum.
Coming back to Nettleton and colleagues’ interpretation of this account there are several
points to note about their use of categories and Trisha’s. Firstly, they argue that Trisha
comments upon her unconscious, yet reflexive activity of ‘waking herself up from a bad
dream.’ However, there is no mention of a bad dream in the account, so this is an analysts’
92
category. Furthermore, the IR is drawing on her commonsense reasoning about the
‘badness’ which is an attribute of the devil in a to make the inference that the dream is
bad. So, the IR is using the category ‘devil’ as a resource from which to draw this
conclusion, which is in addition to the rhetorical work by Trisha, as described above.
Secondly, in the extract, Trisha talks about managing to pull herself out of the dream and
being glad that she did so. She does not comment on her ‘unconscious’ or ‘reflexive,’
activities. What she does do is reflexively constitute the dream in a particular way. For
analytical purposes, this illustrates the value of treating the account as a topic, rather than
a resource, ‘bad’ is not simply what the dream is, but what Trisha makes it out to be. As
we will see in the empirical chapters, this kind of work is also done by IEs in the dream
data.
Nettleton et al (2016) apply their categories retrospectively, so Trisha’s categorisations
and theirs are mismatched. Ultimately, their categories serve as ‘proxies’ for Trisha’s own
talk (Williams 2011). Additionally, they are not listening to the sleep/dream talk to see
how Trisha makes sense of her experiences, the authors are drawing inferences by
prioritising, their categories over hers. Additionally, Trisha is reflecting on the dream,
however, it is not within the dream, but within the context of an interview about it. That
is, she is consciously rather than unconsciously constructing an account, which draws on
an autobiographical memory formulation that makes something from her past
accountable in situ (Wooffitt 2005). Furthermore, her talk constitutes a ‘reflexive
assessment’ of how she experienced the dream (Bergmann and Perakyla 2014, Perakyla
and Bergmann 2020). More importantly, the whole account is predicated on the opening
turn by the IR but as the IR’s talk has been omitted from the extract, the reflexive,
indexical, and intersubjective work between Trisha and the IR are overlooked. Therefore,
93
they have obscured, or even substituted Trisha’s intended meanings for their own, so that
it aligns with their apriori, theoretical constructs. Ultimately, by using their own
categories, they have not ‘side-stepped apriori ontology sleep’, but have used apriori
theories to make sense of the data, without considering how Trisha makes sense of the
relationship between these ontological experiences, i.e., dreams and sleep, and the
influence of religion on these night-time activities.
As researchers of sleep and dreams, we rely on our participants’ commonsensical
accounting practices to make sense of and understand their experiences. But we should
also recognise that interview data are co-produced. Therefore, it is important to show
how this is accomplished by identifying how members’ methods, including our own, are
used to progress interactions and produce the social world. Through the analysis of
Trisha’s account, I have highlighted some of the features that will be discussed in the
subsequent empirical chapters. I have also shown that combining CA/MCA and applying
these methods to data avoids the empirical problems identified in chapter two, which is
that data are decontextualised by extrapolating partial talk to make an analytical
observation ‘fit.’ This obscures research participant’s own commonsense reasoning and
use of interactional methods. It is also commonly the case that the researcher’s own talk
is omitted which prevents analysis of how talk is co-constituted and how sequences and
categories are used. This also prevents identifying what kinds of interactional work is
being accomplished. In this initial attempt to combine CA and MCA, the analysis moves
demonstrates the practicalities of bringing these strands of Sacks’ work together because
they can be ‘powerfully united’ (Rossi and Stivers 2020). Moving away from the combined
methodology, I now outline a step-by-step approach to how I analysed the data and then
consider some of the problems with qualitative interviewing.
94
Step-by-step approach to generating analytical features
In this section, my aim is to explain how I approached the data analysis and identified the
methods, actions and practices that will be demonstrated in the empirical chapters. As
noted by ten Have (2011), a core part of doing CA (and sequential MCA) involves careful
listening to and reading of recorded interactions and making finely detailed
transcriptions of them, as seen in the above extract. Furthermore, it is important to
transcribe, not only what has been said, but also how it has been said, by focussing on the
prosodic contours of the talk as this is an integral part of ‘doing’ analysis (Hepburn and
Bolden 2017). According to ten Have (2011), transcriptions should not be taken as a
‘literal’ substitute for the recordings, rather, they are selective, ‘theory-laden’ offerings
relating to specific features that have been maintained in the recording of the original
interaction, and they are produced for particular purposes by particular analysts’ who
have varying abilities and limitations. This was very much my experience.
In my initial attempts at transcribing, I found it very difficult to capture some of the
prosodic work that was produced and, therefore, missed a lot of the detail in the
interviews such as the speed of delivery, pauses, emphases, rising and falling intonations
and so on. However, after consulting Langford (1994) and other CA literature, I began to
‘listen to the breathing’, which helped with the way I heard the data and subsequently
began to ‘notice’ (Sacks 1992, Schegloff 1996) some of the recurrent features within it. I
started by identifying turn constructional units (TCUs), transition relevance places
(TRPs), troubles sources, overlaps and other regularly invoked aspects of the
interactions.
95
So, step one was to listen carefully to the recordings to capture the prosody and other
sequential features as faithfully as I could and then applying the Jefferson transcription
to the data. I then moved on to explore the categorial work that was invoked, not only
when accounting for dreams, but also in relation to the interviews as forms of
institutional talk (Smith 1978, Baker 2004, Heritage 1998, Whitehead and Baldry 2018).
Both IRs and IEs displayed and made relevant their identities as co-members of the
research setting.
In addition to noticing recurrent features, I also noticed how contrast structures were
used for different purposes in each data set. Wooffitt (1991, 1992) argues that, because
there is a culturally based scepticism about witnessing anomalous events such as seeing
UFOs, people assemble descriptions using a two-part contrast device, ‘I was Just doing X
when Y.’ The ‘doing X’ refers to a mundane activity they were doing just prior to
experiencing the extraordinary event, for example making a cup of tea, which displays
their normalcy and thus mitigates against the potential for sceptical or negative
responses. The ‘when Y’ warrants their understanding of what constitutes an unusual
event, so the device works to sharply differentiate the ordinary from the extraordinary.
Although this particular contrast structure does not appear in my data, I observed three
types of contrast structure being used. These include, ‘I was dreaming of doing X but Y’
and, ‘I was doing X cos Y’ contrast devices, and category out of bounds activities (COBAs)
which are modified version of Sacks’ CBAs. These are the focus of analysis in chapters
four and five. In addition to the aforementioned methods, I also examined how both IRs
and IEs used ‘stance practices’ to manage their stakes and interests in the interviews
(Dubois 2007). This was accomplished by invoking personal pronouns and knowledge
claims, as well as their use for managing the interview setting, which is the focus in
96
chapter six. Within CA, qualitative research interviews are increasingly gaining attention
as interactions and it is recognised that interviewees (IEs) take an active rather than
passive role in the interviews (Rapley, 2001, 2004, 2011, Silverman, 2004, Lampropoulou
and Myers 2013, Roulston 2016, Prior 2017, Silverman 2017). From a CA perspective, the
role of turn-taking is fundamental for analysing interview data as the focus should be on
both IR’s and IE’s turns at talk (Antaki et al 1993, Potter and Hepburn 2012, Prior 2017,
Rapley 2001a, 2001b, 2011, 2015). By examining the sequential flow of the data, it
becomes possible to identify, not only what IEs do with words, categories, and other
features of talk, but also what the IR does (Silverman 2017, Prior 2017, Rapley 2015.
Furthermore, by using the Jefferson transcription system it is possible to examine the
fine-grained details through which interviews are produced, managed, and negotiated
(Roulston 2016). Given that the interview data I have used in this thesis constitute
‘institutional talk,’ it is necessary to consider what this means with respect to analysis of
said data. So, having discussed my step-by-step approach to analysis, I now consider
some of the problems with using qualitative research interviews from a CA perspective.
3.9. Problems with qualitative interviewing from a CA perspective
Potter and Hepburn (2012), outline eight problems in relation to the collection of data
and analysis of qualitative research interviews. They suggest improving the transparency
of the interview setup. This requires consideration of recruitment processes, as
participants are likely to be recruited based on their experiences as, for example, people
in recovery from substance use, or people who dream. One of the issues highlighted by
Potter and Hepburn is that the way participants are recruited is likely to have a bearing
on their conduct during the interview, so it is worth bearing this in mind when analysing
data. An additional concern they raise with respect to data, is that there may be tensions
97
between what IEs consent to and the ethical constraints for IRs in terms of the protocols
they develop. This may result in a lack of transparency, relative to keeping full records.
As discussed above, this has been the case for the data that have been analysed in the
present thesis, as consent for both datasets was partial in terms of what could be
represented in published outputs. So, it is worth bearing these points in mind for future
research.
An additional issue for Potter and Hepburn (2012) is that IR’s roles should be displayed
in the analysis, not just the IEs. As this thesis has adopted CA and MCA for the analysis, it
has been necessary to do this, and it has been possible to show how both parties shift
footing (which is another of Potter and Hepburn’s concerns) through the sequential
unfolding of the interactions. Furthermore, they suggest paying attention to the use of
social science categories, IRs assumptions and research agendas. In chapter six there is
an extract that draws out all three of these points. When the IR makes an assumption
about how nightmares are experienced, an interactional tension emerges between the IR
and IE, which then has to be resolved. By focussing on both parties to the talk I
demonstrated how stance or footings, shift on a moment-by-moment basis. This also
shows how they orient towards their respective agendas.
Furthermore, Potter and Hepburn (2012) argue that interpretive phenomenologists
often ask about participants’ lives and organise the responses thematically, but they fail
to consider the significance of their lived experiences. In the ‘how to’ do qualitative
research interviews literature, there is an emphasis on the need to gain and maintain
rapport by being empathic (Rapley, 2001a, 2001b, 2011, 2015). However, as Prior (2017)
notes, although there is agreement in the general literature about this, what it actually
98
means in practice is rarely defined either empirically or conceptually. Furthermore, he
suggests that, because interviews are based on people’s lived experiences, it is unlikely
that IRs will abandon their efforts to establish a connection with their research
participants (Prior 2017: 4). Patton (2015: 458) argues that rapport is often perceived to
mean that IRs need to convey a sense of empathy with IEs by being non-judgemental
about the experiences they describe (Patton 2015: 458).
Heritage (2011: 160) suggests that being empathic may be difficult for IRs as they may
not have experienced similar problems. He argues that if IE’s accounts orient towards
experiencing ‘pleasure,’ ‘pain,’ ‘joy,’ ‘sorrow,’ and other subjective categories, analysts
should study their own talk to see how they respond. Moreover, he proposes that these
issues are routinely worked out as the “two great moral systems grind into one another”
(Heritage 2011: 183). These concerns are important for the thesis, because the sleep data
is about people’s lived experiences with substance use and they may account for feeling
‘stigmatised,’ for example. As mentioned above, one of the IRs worked at displaying his
sensitivity to the ‘emotional’ character of nightmares for one of the participants in
recovery from alcohol use, but his talk also oriented towards his agenda, as did the IEs
who wanted to talk about the nightmares. What this shows is that talk can be doing more
than one thing. However, in chapter five, we see the opposite as I encourage one of my
participants to provide more information about a dream relating to incest. The difference
between these two pieces of interaction is that in the former, the IE is not known to the
IR, whereas in the latter they are. This brings us back to Potter and Hepburn’s concern
with recruitment, as I used a convenience sample and knew my participants, either as
work colleagues or as friends. So, as mentioned above in relation to omnirelevance, this
had a bearing on the way the interviews unfolded because I had personal knowledge
99
about some of their references to people, places, social activities they were involved in
and so on. The key point to note, is that to address these concerns, it is necessary to
remain faithful to the way the interaction unfolds between IRs and IEs and to ground the
analysis in the data.
An additional concern relates to the constraints IR’s questions may place on IE’s
responses. Therefore, it is important to examine how recipients accept or resist such
constraints (Raymond 2003, Heritage and Raymond 2005, Stivers and Hayashi, 2010).
This can be accomplished by identifying basic features such as continuers,
acknowledgements, agreement tokens, assessments, and other responses to see whether
they are affiliated or disaffiliated with prior turns (Stivers 2008). Furthermore, Tracey
and Robles (2010: 131) argue that it is important to examine the way specific goals and
values are displayed in relation to the professional and lay identities of parties to the
interaction. Potter and Hepburn (2012) make a similar point, arguing that it is worth
examining whether IRs and IEs are talking in a personal or institutional capacity, which
can be achieved by tracing the moment by moment turns at talk. Furthermore, it is argued
that interviews are increasingly being perceived as sites for moral and categorial work to
be accomplished (Baker 2004, Whitehead and Baldry 2018, Rossi and Stivers 2020).
Given the institutional character of the data, consideration is given to the role of the
setting, as it cannot be disassociated from the methods that members’ produce within it.
Therefore, in addition to examining talk about dreams and recovery, I also explore how
IE and IR identities are produced through question-and-answer sequences, knowledge
claims, the use of contrast devices, category out of bounds activities and stance practices,
as well as identifying which categories and collections their identity work orients
100
towards. Sacks (1992: 314) argues that some membership devices have omnirelevance
within an interaction, when:
“things may be going along, the device isn’t being used: at some point something
happens which makes it appropriate, and it’s used. When it is used, it’s the
controlling device, i.e., there is no way of excluding its operation when
relevant”.
Fitzgerald et al (2009) argue that, as interactions are multi-layered, this can create
problems for analysts who are attempting to illustrate participants’ orientations to
omnirelevant social structures that operate as a background to the topic and serve as
default position that may be oriented towards at any time. For example, in research
interviews IE’s and IR’s identities are made relevant in relation to the ascribed
membership of the categories. However, according to Benwell and Stokoe (2006: 97),
analysts should not assume that talk is institutional just because it occurs in what might
be treated as an ‘institutional setting.’ But rather, they should provide a clear warrant for
where in the data the talk is being treated as institutional, and be able to demonstrate it
as a participant’s, rather than analyst’s, concern. What we will see in some of the extracts
is how the interviews move between the institutional and ordinary aspects of the talk,
which allows us to see if the talk is ‘personal’ or ‘institutional,’ as noted by Potter and
Hepburn (2012), Benwell and Stokoe (2006) and Rapley (Cf. 2001a, 2001b). As we will
see in the empirical chapters, omnirelevant categories were invoked in relation to using
dreams and recovery categories (chapter four), gender and sexuality (chapter five), and
incest and being semi-naked in a public setting (chapter six), for example. In terms of the
interview/institutional identities, in some of these examples the broader relationship
101
between IE and IR, outside of the setting was made relevant by reference to the IR being
a party to some piece of information about a third party who is known to both. The
important thing is to explore how, interactional tensions emerge in situ, as a result of this
broader knowledge get resolved. The above issues are relevant for the data analysis, and
I will return to each of them as and when they become apparent in the data. Having
discussed these issues, I now summarise the chapter.
3.10. Summary
In this chapter, I began by explaining the data collection process, following which I
discussed the interview schedules and then considered sampling processes from a CA
perspective. I argued that this is important because in conventional sociology sampling
relates to issues such as reliability, validity, representivity and demographics, whereas in
CA these kinds of issues are conceived differently because a greater concern is uncovering
key features in the data, relative to context, accountability, reflexivity, indexicality and
warranting. I then highlighted key concerns relating to ethics and consent and discussed
the practicalities of combining CA and MCA, which I proposed is necessary because I am
using this innovative approach to analyse the data. Following this, I discussed the key
concepts in ethnomethodology, CA and MCA to foreground the methods that will be
applied in the analytical chapters to follow. I then described how I approached the data
analysis on a step - by - step basis to illustrate some of the difficulties with doing CA and
capturing the data faithfully. Finally, I considered some of the issues that can arise when
using qualitative interviews and considered how to address them from a CA perspective.
The following chapter is the first of the empirical chapters. In chapter two, I discussed
research by McIntosh and McKeganey (2000), who proposed that people in recovery
need to construct a ‘non-addict’ identity for themselves when they move from being a
102
user to being a non-user. I argued that they failed to show this important work by their
participants as they used their own apriori categories and fitted them to the data, which
constitutes an example of the topic resource issue that the thesis aims to address.
Therefore, in the following chapter, I re-analyse one of the extracts from their paper to
empirically demonstrate that their participant uses a two-part contrast device, that I refer
to as the ‘I was doing X cos Y device,’ to structure her account. In the second section of the
chapter, I show how institutional identities are invoked through the question and answer
sequences relating to ‘using dreams’ and in the final section, I demonstrate the use of the
‘I was doing X cos Y’ contrast device, by participants in sleep data.
103
Chapter Four: The interactional production of recovery identities
4.1. Introduction
In the previous chapter, I discussed data and methods and began by explaining the data
collection process, following which I discussed the design of the interview schedules. I
then considered sampling processes from a CA perspective and argued that this is
important because in conventional sociology sampling relates to issues such as reliability,
validity, representivity and demographics, whereas in CA a greater concern is to identify
key features by grounding the analysis in the data. I then highlighted key concerns
relating to ethics and consent and discussed the practicalities of combining CA and MCA.
Following this, I discussed the key concepts in EM, CA, and MCA to foreground the
methods that will be applied in the analytical chapters to follow. I then described how I
approached the data analysis on a step-by-step basis to illustrate some of the difficulties
with doing CA and capturing the data faithfully. Finally, I considered some of the issues
that can arise when using qualitative interviews and discussed how they can be resolved
from a CA perspective.
In this chapter, I focus on the interactional production of identity and morality in relation
to talk about recovery and talk about ‘using dreams.’ With respect to the former, I return
to the research by McIntosh and McKeganey (2000, 2001, 2002), which I discussed in
chapter two. The aim of their research, with ex-substance users, was to allow their
participants’ own recovery narratives to emerge from the data. They argued that people
in recovery need to construct a ‘non-addict’ identity for themselves when they interact
with healthcare professionals and others, because it helps them to move from ‘using’ to
‘non-using.’ It is argued that constructing non-user identities demonstrates their return
to normalcy (Nettleton et al 2012) because being a ‘user’ is morally implicative. McIntosh
104
and McKeganey (2001: 50) propose that this process constitutes a ‘cognitive shift’ which
is necessary for a successful change of behaviour to occur. This change of behaviour
involves a re-evaluation of self, a reinterpretation of their lifestyle and being able to
provide persuasive explanations of their recovery to others. However, in chapter two, I
argued that McIntosh and McKeganey’s (2000) analysis constituted another example of
the topic/ resource issue (Zimmerman and Pollner 1970) that is central to this thesis,
because they mistreated the data by prioritising their own categories over the
participants. In order to demonstrate this empirically, in this chapter, I re-analyse the
extract and show that their participant, Helen, uses a two part contrast device that I refer
to as the ‘I was doing X cos Y device,’ to structure her account. It is formulated using the
categories ‘being straight’ versus ‘being a user’ and her account is predicated upon what
she refers to as having ‘false’ and ‘real’ perceptions of self.
In the second section of this chapter, I continue to focus on how the production of identity
is oriented towards as a morally accountable action by examining extracts from the sleep
dataset. Orientations to identity are invoked in relation to the interview setting by both
interviewers (IRs) and interviewees (IEs) and also in relation to accounts about having
‘using dreams’. That is, dreams where people in recovery from substance use, dream they
have used a substance, or have been in situations where substances are available (Kelly
and Greene 2019). In the final section of this chapter, I examine the ‘I was doing X cos Y’
contrast device and show that participants in recovery from substance use, produce the
first part to describe changes to the quality or quantity of their dreams and the second
part is used to attribute a cause to those changes. By using the contrast structure, they
undermine their previous ‘user’ identity and foreground their recovery identities as
normal.
105
In chapter two, I reviewed the addiction and recovery literature and highlighted some of
the ideas that have emerged in relation to ‘using dreams.’ The concern within this
literature is about whether such dreams can be treated as signals for potential relapse,
whether they provide insights about how people cope with recovery, and whether they
can be used to educate people, relative to potential experiences they may have on their
‘recovery journey.’ A key concern in this respect is that ‘using dreams’ may lead to feelings
of anxiety, guilt, and stress which might be addressed by helping those on the ‘recovery
journey’ to normalise such feelings (Colace 2014, 2020, Kelly and Greene, 2019, Silva and
Nappo 2019).
Furthermore, according to Robles (2019), moral categories (for example ‘using dreams’)
may be treated as ‘delicate’ by people in recovery and by doctors during consultations.
Subsequently, doctors attend to the delicateness by formulating questions and responses
in ways that avoid the potential for problematic conversations, while patients frequently
present their behaviors as normal and healthy (Denvir, 2009, 2012, 2014, Robles 2019).
Although the interactional context is different to the doctor/patient relationship
discussed by Robles (2019), I show that responses to a question about whether
participants in the sleep dataset have ‘using dreams’ are varied and not always treated as
delicate. Additionally, I show how the IR’s role in the interview setting can be challenged
through knowledge claims made by one of the participants and how IRs may produce
potentially problematic moral work in relation to those claims. Through this analysis, I
show how the combination of sequential and categorial work is used to negotiate both
the interviews and the talk about ‘using dreams’ from which identity emerges, and
thereby show the morality of knowledge in action as IRs and IEs adopt a stance towards
the talk (Stivers et al 2011).
106
Having outlined the content of the chapter, I now turn my attention to the extract from
McIntosh and McKeganey (2000), to show the significance of grounding the analysis in
the data. One point to note is that I did not have access to the raw data so it is only possible
to undertake a categorial analysis. Nonetheless, it does illustrate the significance of using
ethnomethodologically inspired approaches to analyse interview data, because such
approaches places emphasis on what is said (i.e., topicalised) rather than treating the data
as an analysts’ resource. Subsequently, the participant’s own narrative emerges from the
data.
4.2. A categorial analysis of a recovery narrative
Mcintosh and McKeganey (2000: 1504) drew on various fragments of data to illustrate
what they refer to as their participants’ recovery narratives, including the following quote
by Helen, who says:
“I have gained a lot of self-respect for myself as a straight person and a lot of
confidence for myself. And all the self-respect and confidence I had as a user was
just all false, it wasn't real. I like myself as a straight person better than I did
when I was a user, but I thought I liked myself as a user, but I like myself
better as a straight person. I find myself it's important to be clean to achieve the
things that I want to achieve and not to be a victim anymore.”
In their analysis, McIntosh and McKeganey (2000: 1505) argue that Helen makes a
distinction between her sense of self confidence as a ‘user’ and a ‘non-user’, and that she
draws on a contrast between the ‘synthetic confidence’ associated with drug use and the
‘authentic confidence’ associated with her recovery. They argue that this contrast
107
highlights an important part of the reconstruction of her identity, as she attempts to move
away from her previous lifestyle.
Within this quote, Helen produces an evaluation of her former and current self, which
provide warrants for her use of categories. The evaluation is predicated on the attributes
of ‘liking herself more’ and ‘having gained more confidence and self-respect’ as a ‘straight
person’. Helen presents this version of herself as ‘real’ and the reformulated version of
self overturns her previous construction of self as ‘false,’ which she accounts for by saying
she ‘only thought’ she ‘liked herself and had more confidence and self-respect’ when she
‘was a user.’ In this part of the account, she makes a distinction between thinking and
knowing who the real ‘and false’ Helen is. In the reconstructed version of self, she makes
accountable her ‘inner (subjective thinking) life’ accountable for the false sense of self, to
produce her real ‘out there’ objective self (Edwards and Potter 1993), which is
presumably what McIntosh and McKeganey mean when they refer to her ‘cognitive shift.’
Furthermore, the main thrust of the account turns on the categories ‘being a straight
person’ contrasted with being ‘a user,’ both of which are mobilised three times. At no
point does Helen use the categories ‘authentic’ and ‘synthetic’ confidence. In addition to
the straight and user categories, she makes a contrast between ‘being clean’ to achieve
the things she wants, versus no longer ‘being a victim.’ As we will see below, the category
‘clean’ is also used by participants in the sleep dataset when describing their recovery. By
disaligning herself with the ‘victim,’ category Helen is invoking a blaming, although it is
unclear what or who she is making accountable for her victim status. As I do not have
access to the original data, I can only assume that there is some mention of what Helen
108
accounts for as being blameworthy in the data. Even so, this is a good example of the way
data are extrapolated and fitted to analysts’ theoretical frameworks (Antaki et al 1993).
Interviews are arenas for making attributions, such as blaming, shaming, justifying,
excusing, and so on (Wetherell and Potter 1998), so given that the interactional context
is one in which Helen is being questioned about her recovery, it is unsurprising that she
uses the contrasting categories ‘being straight’ versus ‘being a user’ as they are idiomatic
expressions which are routinely available for talking about recovery; and moreover, the
use of ‘being straight’ is rhetorically persuasive. As Stokoe (2012b) argues, speakers use
idiomatic expressions and build categorial practices so that recipients recognise the
cultural connotations associated with their use. Therefore, the use of these particular
categories is invoked as social actions that accomplish Helen’s reconstituted identity
within the situated interaction, rather than being ‘cognitive’ or ‘precognitive’ (internal,
subjective) activities (McIntosh and McKeganey 2000, Nettleton et al. 2011).
Furthermore, by using these ‘before and after’ categories, Helen’s account is formulated
as an ‘autobiographical memory formulation’ that draws on her past experiences to
explain something in the present (Wooffitt 2005). Moreover, Helen has stakes and
interests in the way she accounts for her experiences as a participant in a research project
on sleep and recovery. So, because ‘being straight’ carries moral and social connotations,
this particular category is being used to manage her investment in the talk (Potter 1996).
By foregrounding her normalcy, Helen’s account is recipient designed to avoid a negative
evaluation from the interviewer. Hence, the version she produces can be heard such that
‘being a user’ is not something she “derive[s] satisfaction from” any longer (Edwards and
Potter 1993: 16).
109
Helen’s account is scripted (Edwards 1994) to demonstrate the social aspects of her
renewed identity which she attributes to having gained ‘self-respect,’ ‘a lot of confidence,’
and ‘liking myself better’ as ‘a straight person.’ In using these formulations, she displays
an evaluation of her current and previous versions of self and the account is designed to
highlight the positive contrast between these two versions of self. Furthermore, this
renewed version is also produced through references to her changed lifestyle (being
clean and to achieve what she wants to). Evaluating self and displaying how their lifestyle
has changed are two of the processes that McIntosh and McKeganey (2000) point to as
being necessary conditions for successful recovery. So, in this respect, my analysis chimes
with foundational features of their theory. However, there are some important points of
departure between my analysis and theirs, which align with the thesis aims, as outlined
in chapter one.
Firstly, in using the categories ‘authentic and ‘synthetic’ confidence, McIntosh and
McKeganey obfuscate Helen’s categories. So, their stated aim of allowing the conceptual
framework to emerge from the data rather than being imposed upon it (see chapter two)
is not achieved, as the categories they use are not evident in the data they present to
support their theory. Secondly, their claim that having a ‘cognitive shift’ is a necessary
condition of recovery can also be challenged, as Helen is representing a version of herself
within the interview, albeit she attributes the changes to thinking she was more confident
as a user. But the ‘thinking’ is implicitly contrasted to ‘knowing’ that she is now more
confident and has more self-respect and likes herself more as a straight person, so this is
the ‘preferred’ Helen. So, with respect to the ‘cognitive shift,’ McIntosh and McKeganey
treat Helen’s talk as if the verbal representation of a mental state is the internal mental
110
state. From my perspective, this is problematic because they are overlooking the
interactional work through which she actively talks her ‘mental states’ into being.
Thirdly, McIntosh and McKeganey exclude their own input into the co-construction of
data, which amounts to under-analysis through summary (Antaki et al. 1993). In sum,
they erase the co-produced and intersubjectively oriented towards components of the
interview, which from my analytical perspective is the most significant issue with this
type of analysis. To be clear, my issue is not with the approach they use, but more to do
with showing the analytical robustness of the methodology I am using in this thesis.
Although the extract has not been transcribed at the level of detail used in conversation
analytical transcriptions, it has still been possible to observe Helen’s own use of
categories and my reanalysis has allowed Helen’s own reflexive commonsense reasoning
to be highlighted.
In the following section, I undertake a sequential and categorial analysis of three extracts
that demonstrates how participants in the sleep dataset respond to a question about
using dreams. This also reveals the moral implicativeness of the category and shows how
the responses are invoked to do similar identity work to Helen by foregrounding the
recovery identity. As we will see, the participants display their normativity in various
ways and the category using dreams is not always treated as delicate.
4.3. An empirical analysis of questions and responses about using dreams Asking people whether they have ‘using dreams’ invokes a CBA of the category ‘user,’ thus
implying the applicability of that category to the person. In the context of McIntosh and
McKeganey’s study and the sleep research, all the participants are in recovery and so the
111
applicable category may be treated as ‘having been a user.’ As mentioned above and in
chapter two, categories relating to using and abstaining from substances, including illicit
drugs and alcohol, are morally loaded and in some interactional contexts may be treated
as delicate (Widdicombe 2017, Robles 2019). For this reason, people in recovery are
more likely to represent their (recovered) identity as normal (Nettleton et al 2012). Given
these issues, we might anticipate that asking questions about ‘using dreams’ in research
interviews with people in recovery might be treated as a sensitive category. In the
extracts that follow we will see that, as members of a collection in a rehabilitative
recovery setting, participants’ responses are bound up with concerns about identity and
morality, but they display their normativity in various ways. This can be seen in the first
extract, in which Annie makes a display of her normality. One point to note is that some
extracts in this, and the next two chapters, have lines omitted for ease of analysis. Where
this is the case, full transcriptions can be seen in appendix H.
Extract 4.1: SD9: Annie
1. IR: .hhh do you ha::ve e:rm using dreams at all.=
2. A: =.hh e::rm na- I ha- .hh not(0.6).hh the last one >I was
3. in pris::on< an that was like(.)hor[rific]=
4. IR: (([coughs]))
5. A: =since I bin ere(.)a no
At line 1, the interviewer (IR) produces a question containing a “negative polarity item”
(NPI) (Heritage and Raymond 2021: 42), ‘do you have using dreams at all,’ that includes
the extreme case formulation (ECF) ‘at all,’ Because the question has potential to be heard
as a criticism, the ECF “asserts the strongest case in anticipation of a non-sympathetic
response to ‘immoral’ behaviour” (Pomerantz 1986: 220). Given the moral
implicativeness of the question, it is designed to mitigate against a dispreferred response,
which would be ‘yes.’ As we can see Annie’s perturbations (line 2) orient towards the
112
negative polarity (the in-breaths, indicated by a period and h’s’ ‘.hhh’ and .hh, the two cut
off words na- and ha-, which are indicated with a dash, the stretched words, indicated
with colons, ‘ha::ve’ and ‘e:rm,’ and the in turn silence, which is indicated with a timed
pause (0.6). However, by stating that she last had (a using dream) ‘in prison’ (line 3),
Annie effectively provides a dispreferred response because she answers the question by
saying she has had them. The IR’s turn includes hesitancies preceding the ‘using dreams’
question, which suggests that she may be treating it as a ‘delicate topic’ (Widdicombe
2017, Robles 2019). Annie’s qualified account, over lines 1-2, works to display her
understanding that the current interactional context may be morally implicative for the
way she responds. She is participating in an interview about her sleep and recovery in a
rehabilitative setting wherein the expectation is that she will be compliant with the
institutional requirement to abstain from using substances.
The account includes a temporal referent ‘the last one I had’ and a
geographical/locational referent ‘I was in prison,’ both of which orient towards the
occasion and context in which Annie’s last using dream took place. She also produces the
descriptive reality of the dream as being ‘horrific.’ This characterisation both warrants its
tellability (Bergmann and Perakyla 2014) and substantiates its facticity by making
relevant the significance of the dream, i.e., it was not just a ‘using dream,’ but a horrific,
and therefore, memorable one. The final part of the Annie’s turn orients towards the
negative polarity in the question design (line 5), and provides a somewhat qualified, yet
nonetheless, preferred response. In responding this way, Annie accomplishes her identity
as ‘normal,’ i.e., as someone who no longer has using dreams (Nettleton et al 2012).
Overall, the turn can be heard such that she is currently not experiencing ‘using dreams,’
113
which runs against the addiction literature that argues they are routinely experienced in
the early stages of recovery (Colace 2020, Kelly and Greene 2019).
Within the response, Annie explicitly invokes multiple aspects of her identity as someone
who has had ‘horrific using dreams’, is an ‘ex-prisoner’, and an ‘ex-user’ - and by
responding to the question she also implicitly produces her identity as an IE. Moreover,
by providing a preferred response she has oriented towards the attributes of an IE, as
questions prefer responses. Through this, she is doing identity work by ‘talking as’
(Kitzinger 2000) someone in recovery who no longer has using dreams. Annie’s category
bound activity (Sacks 1992) of not having using dreams in the current rehabilitative
setting constitutes a MCD (Sacks 1992) as Annie is a member of a population in recovery
from drug and alcohol use. These actions are thus morally and institutionally ordered. In
addition to the moral and identity work in this extract, Annie is using the ‘I was doing X
cos Y’ contrast device as she no longer has using dreams (‘I was doing X’) because she is
in recovery (‘cos Y’).
I discuss the use of this device, in more detail, in the next section. In the next extract, we
will see that Katie orients towards the category ‘using dreams’ in a different way to Annie.
Extract 4.2: SD3: Katie
1. I: .hhh d’you ever have(.)u::sing dre:ams.=
2. K: ((sniffs))mmmm(2.5)occa::sionally(.)mm
3. I: =oh m and(0.4)is (.)th- the is >that something 4. you’ve always< ha::d.(.)when you’ve been in re-
5. recovery s[ta::g]es.=
6. K: =[e:::r] no I don’t av em a lo::t
114
In the above extract, the IE also invokes the ‘using dream’ question which also includes a
NPI (Heritage and Raymond 2021) and ECF ‘ever’ which works in the same way as the
previous extract as it “asserts the strongest case in anticipation of a non-sympathetic
response to ‘immoral’ behaviour” (Pomerantz 1986: 220). However, Katie also provides
a dispreferred response (Pomerantz 1986) by giving a qualified account ‘occa::sionally’
(line 2). We know it is a dispreferred response because of the perturbations, a sniff and
disaffiliative assessment ‘mmmm,’ a lengthy silence of 2.5 seconds, and another ‘mm,’
which suggest that she also has a problem with the question (line 2). The lack of uptake
by the IR at a potential transition relevance place (the lengthy silence), indicates that she
is allowing Katie to hold the turn because she is orienting to her identity and category
attributes of being an IR by waiting for a response. So, both the IE and IR identities are
being oriented towards through the first and second pair part of a question/response
adjacency pair. Over lines 3-5, the IR invokes a through-produced turn (Benwell and
Stokoe 2006), that includes a change of state token ‘oh,’ which is delivered with rising
intonation (as indicated by the upward arrow), which signals “that its producer has
undergone some kind of change in his or her locally current state of knowledge,
information, orientation or awareness” (Heritage 1984b: 299). In addition to the change
of state token, the turn initial particles include perturbations an ‘m,’ ‘and,’ silence of 0.4
seconds, a cut off ‘th-‘ and self-repaired ‘the’ which can be heard such that she is not
expecting the dispreferred response. Over lines 3-5, the interviewer produces a
reformulated question that includes a NPI, ‘is that something you’ve always had when
you’ve been in the recovery stages.’ So, the question moves from the general ‘do you ever
have using dreams’ to the specific, ‘is that something you’ve always had in the recovery
stages. The reformatted question is also problematic as it includes the pluralised
‘recovery stages’ with the implication being that this is not the first time Katie has been
115
in recovery. Katie’s no prefaced response, ‘no I don’t have them a lot’ (line 6) resists the
IR’s redesign of the question. Furthermore, her response also shows a concern with the
‘morality of (the IR’s) knowledge’ (Stivers et al 2011).
According to Heritage and Raymond (2005), speakers and recipients adopt an epistemic
stance in interactions to define the terms of agreement (within a course of interaction)
by indexing their relative rights of epistemic authority over a topic. So, in effect, Katie is
“policing knowledge” (Sidnell 2005: 171), which is subject to a moral code that the IR
might not have epistemic rights to. In a framework developed by Stivers et al (2011),
epistemic access is defined as relating to where knowledge comes from which can be seen
in the way speakers and recipients establish their respective boundaries about a piece of
knowledge. This includes the presuppositions and norms that are drawn upon to account
for that knowledge. For Katie, knowledge about using dreams is from her first-hand
experience, so her resistance to the initial question may be due to an issue with the
presuppositions and norms that have been invoked by the IR, i.e., that abstaining
substance users will not have using dreams. Furthermore, the IR’s epistemic access to
this moral knowledge may be drawn from secondary sources, including the research and
academic literature, which may also be why Katie is resistant to the question.
The overall problem for Katie, is not only about accepting the category ‘using dreams,’ or
the design of the questions, it is also to do with permitting the use of the ECFs and the
implied suggestion that she has been unsuccessful on previous attempts to abstain from
substance use. So, both questions and responses are oriented towards by both Katie and
the IR as delicate (Widdicombe 2017, Robles 2019) and we can see the same kinds of
moral and identity work in action as in the previous extract.
116
In the next extract, we will see that Patricia orients towards the ‘using dream’ question in
a different way to both Annie and Katie.
Extract 4.3: SD2: Patricia
1. IR: so:: .hhhh (0.3)>d’you ever have us::ing dreams.<=
2. P: =(0.4)hhh yeah[(.)]
3. IR: [st]ill.((rustling paper))=
4. P: =-ye::ah y- a- n >listen I’ve been nearly ni::ne years
5. clean and so::ber< in the past .hhh an I’ve ad
6. usin dreams even [then=]
7. IR: [yeah ]
8. =I me-(.)but nine years .hh you’ve never had a block
9. of nine years have you.=
10. P: =y[e::ah]
11. IR: [cos t]hat was Oh HAVE YOU. what[period ]was that.=
12. P: =[nearly] nine years
In this extract, the interviewer also asks the ‘do you ever have using dreams’ question,
which gets receipted at line 2 with a troubled start (silence and outbreath), followed by
an affirmative ‘yeah.’ As we have seen previously, the category incumbents (IR/IE) are
inextricably linked and being oriented towards in the question/response sequence
(Frances and Hester 2004). Frances and Hester (2004) argue that these types of
adjacency pairs are category bound to people’s identities as co-incumbents of a setting,
so once again we see the setting being talked into being through the sequential and
categorial work. In overlap, the interviewer asks whether Patricia ‘still’ has them (line 3).
The question orients towards the immediate, rehabilitative context, so it makes Patricia’s
response morally accountable, relative to whether she still has using dreams in recovery.
Patricia responds with a second agreement token ‘yeah’ and an account that includes a
three part structure ‘n listen,’ ‘I’ve been nearly ni::ne years clean and so::ber in the past,’
‘an I’ve ad usin dreams even then’ (lines 4-6). The production of ‘n listen’ is instructing
the IR to prepare for what she has to say and signals that an account is forthcoming.
Furthermore, Patricia is asserting her own authority by adopting this stance but still
117
being compliant by responding. This is like the analysis we will see in chapter six, in terms
of how IEs can subvert the IE/IR relationship. Nonetheless, the IR responds by not talking
and complying with the instruction (Frances and Hester 2004: 5).
Furthermore, three partedness is commonly used in accounts and they can be used to
accomplish various actions because they are persuasive rhetorical devices that can serve
as “methodic resources for the conduct of interactional negotiations’’ (Jefferson,
1990:90). So, Patricia is negotiating her position as being more knowledgeable than the
IR. By invoking the temporal referents ‘nine years’ and ‘in the past’ (lines 4-5), Patricia
accounts for her memory of how events unfolded making an explicit link between her
past and current experiences, which displays that for her, there is no relationship
between being in recovery and having using dreams as she has had them whether or not
she is using or abstaining. The stretched ‘ni::ne’ (line 4) marks it as a long period that
orients towards the broader social context, outside of the interview setting, which
explicitly points to the omnirelevance of these experiences as an ongoing aspect of
Patricia’s life during this period (Fitzgerald et al, Whitehead and Baldry 2018). The use
of the categories ‘clean’ and ‘sober’ are direct contrasts to the category ‘using dreams’ and
by invoking them Patricia is foregrounding her normalcy at this point in time.
Furthermore, she uses the extreme case formulation ‘even then’ (line 6), which is
emphasised and “maximises the state of affairs by presenting her lived experience as
being unchallengeable” (Wooffitt 1992: 75). However, over lines 7-8, the IR makes a
“judgement” about Patricia’s claims by questioning the facticity of the account (Wooffitt
1992: 77). The IR initially makes an assertion, ‘I me- but nine years,’ which is then
downgraded to a question, ‘you’ve never had a block of nine years have you’ (clean and
sober). The use of the extreme case formulation ‘never’ is effectively challenging
118
Patricia’s representation of her own experiences with the implication being that she may
be misrepresenting them.
As Stivers et al (2011: 19-22) suggest speakers and recipients make "morally accountable
choices that have not only informational consequences but may also have relational
ones." In chapter three, I discussed the literature relating to research interviews, which
often suggests that IR’s need to gain and maintain rapport with IEs by being polite, for
example (Hutchby 2008). This is particularly important if IEs are accounting for
experiences that may be painful or regrettable (Heritage 2011). Prior (2017) suggests
that rapport can be achieved by producing responses that are affiliative and signal social
solidarity with the IE. So, by challenging Patricia’s claims, the IR could create problems
with the progressivity of the interaction, i.e., this interview (Stivers 2008). Patricia
responds with an upwardly intoned latched affirmative ‘ye::h’ (line 10). However, the IR
interrupts in overlap (Jefferson 1983) and takes the turn by continuing to challenge
Patricia’s account initially with an account of her own ‘cos that was.’ However, she then
produces an information receipt and change of state token (Heritage 1984) with a
declarative question (Raymond 2018), ‘Oh HAVE YOU!,’ that is produced relatively
loudly, This is significant because it leads to the next question which is reformulated from
the original question, ‘what period was that.’ (line 11).
In overlap at line 12, Patricia takes up the turn and provides an account (over lines 12-
16) that overturns the IR’s challenge, which is receipted by the IR with an agreement
token ‘okay’ (line 17). Additionally, the ‘n listen’ (line 4) invokes Patricia’s identity as
someone who is not only knowledgeable about these things but for whom the ‘user’
category is not problematic. So, in this respect, it differs to the other extracts and
119
demonstrates that it is not always the case that people who participate in research about
their use of drugs and alcohol will treat questions about their experiences as ‘delicate’
(Widdicombe 2017, Robles 2019). Within the addiction literature, discussed in chapter
two, there was perceived to be a relationship between the length of time in recovery and
the occurrence of using dreams. Patricia’s response seems to suggest that people may
continue to have them long after they end their recovery, although we do need to be
mindful that she has relapsed.
As we have seen in the analysis, the participants in the sleep and recovery research
presented their experiences of having using dreams in variable ways. We know that both
Katie and Patricia have ‘relapsed,’ but it is not evident in the data whether it was Annie’s
first time in recovery, although this may be worth considering if researchers want to find
out more about the occurrence of ‘using dreams’ in relation to relapse and abstinence.
Additionally, Annie was the only one who described the quality of her dream as ‘horrific.’
In the addiction literature, Kelly and Greene (2019), for example, suggest that having
‘using dreams’ can be deeply unsettling for individuals, so gaining information about how
they impact on specific people could be useful for helping them and their families to
normalise their feelings and assist with recovery. Colace (2020) proposes that ‘using
dreams’ could therefore act as a ‘clinical thermometer’ that treatment providers can use
to assess the likelihood of relapse and manage abstinence for those in recovery.
Although Katie and Annie’s orientations to the question appear to be treating it as
‘delicate,’ the interactional work seems to be more about how the question(s) are
designed. And as we have seen, Patricia has no problem with the question. Moreover,
Annie is the only one who describes her dream as being ‘horrific.’ So, from what we have
120
seen here people in recovery do not always present their descriptions of such dreams in
this way. By examining the question-and-answer adjacency pairs and finding variations,
we can see that the interactional flow needs to be considered in order to see what is made
relevant in conversations about ‘using dreams.’ This might provide other ways of
perceiving what they are used to do interactionally. Furthermore, as will be seen in the
other empirical chapters IR’s and IEs collaborate in the co-production of the talk about
dreams, and this also needs to be considered when making sense of such data. What my
analysis shows is that in these interviews about ‘using dreams,’ the responses orient
towards identity and morality through representations of self as normal.
As Benwell and Stokoe (2006: 8) argue, the analysis of identity rests on the occasioning
of identity categories. As we saw, Annie neutralised the “implications associated with the
category” (Edwards and Potter 1992: 12), by stating that she did have ‘using dreams’ but
no longer does. Katie, on the other hand, treated it in a more sensitive matter she
downplayed its significance as something she only occasionally experiences. Patricia,
however, took up ownership (Sharrock 1974) of the category and entitlement of
associated attributes by displaying her knowledge, as someone with years of experience
in these matters, and from this questioned the moral judgement that is implicit in the
question. Through this category entitlement work, she appropriated the ‘deviant’
(Widdicombe and Wooffitt 1995), category of ‘user’ for her own purposes So, what we
see here are examples of mundane moral reasoning produced as category tied actions,
rather than the kinds of abstract theorisations that I discussed in chapter two.
Furthermore, by focusing on “category relevance in the talk itself, it allows us to be
specific about what the category actually is doing” (Stokoe and Edwards 2009: 11).
121
In all three cases, through these commonsense situated representations of self, we can
observe that the category ‘user’ implicitly signals particular membership values and
attributes that are presented by the IR as “character-implicative” (Stokoe and Edwards
2009:9). So far, the analysis has begun to both develop and demonstrate how the
empirical study of recovery from substance use can be used to identify how participants
morally position themselves towards these matters. As I argued in the previous chapter,
this can only be achieved by treating ‘using’ and ‘recovery’ as resources for getting things
done in the course of interviews about them, rather than perceiving them as apriori
topics. What we can observe from the above analysis is that the context of the talk is
significant in relation to what is produced, how it gets produced and what gets
accomplished. As Heritage (1984a, 1989) argues, contributions to interactions are
context shaped, that is they occur in local settings that orient towards broader social
contexts, for example recovery identities, as we have seen in the above extracts. They are
also context renewing, as each utterance provides the context for the next one, so the
context of next actions is renewed in light of current ones. This has been displayed
through the reflexive and indexical production of the interviews as both IE and IR monitor
each other’s turns.
By grounding the analysis in the data to demonstrate how recovery identities are
interactionally worked up, the chapter has extended upon previous work in the sociology
of sleep and recovery and the addiction literature, discussed in chapter two. It has
extended upon the conversation analytical research on dreams (Bergmann and Perakyla
2014, Perakyla and Bergmann 2020, and Bardina 2021), by combining CA with MCA
which has opened up a new way of analysing talk about dreams. As Stokoe and Edwards
argue, although interlocutors, readers and analysts may recognise when moral work is
122
used interactionally, this can be either explicit or implicit and the latter might not “rise to
the interactional surface of the talk” (Drew 1996: 296, cited in Stokoe and Edwards 2009:
3). Additionally, because analysts cannot “step outside of the moral order to talk about it”
(Jayyusi 1991: 247), they must use their moral membership and moral knowledge as a
resource to recognise the practical moral organisation of the talk as it is produced and
made relevant (Stokoe and Edwards 2009:4). This is only possible because of CA’s
reliance on detailed transcription. One of the values of transcribing and analysing data
with this amount of detail is that it becomes possible to identify what actually happens in
the turns at talk, which is why Roulston (2010, 2016) argues that researchers should
focus on how they interact in interviews rather than solely focusing on the topical
content. Furthermore, Roulston (2016: 68) argues that when IRs subject their own talk
to analysis, they learn about how knowledge relating to the social world is co-produced
and, by learning how to analyse their own talk in interviews they can develop a more
reflexive approach to their own research practice. So, in addition to the focus on user
categories, the analysis has provided for a demonstration of the interviewer’s methods
by focusing on the interactional context.
Furthermore, the differing representations of self in relation to the ‘using dreams’
question have shown how ‘normal’ is accomplished interactionally. As we have seen, this
done differently from context to context. for one person is not necessarily the same for
others. Additionally, these participants have accounted for their ‘using dreams’ as they
relate to both the situated interview and their past experiences. This shows why it is
important to treat the talk as the phenomenon as an EM situated analysis can address the
topic/resource issue. In this respect it could be useful for the sociology of dreams, sleep,
sleep and recovery, and research on addiction and recovery by getting at the details of
123
participants’ own accounts. Having shown how a question about ‘using dreams’ is
managed, I now move on to demonstrate the ‘I was doing X cos Y’ contrast device that I
highlighted above in relation to both Helen’s and Annie’s talk. It is used by participants in
the sleep data when describing changes to their dreams because they have either stopped
using substances or as a consequence of using them.
4.4. The ‘I was doing X cos Y device’
At the outset of this chapter, I analysed a fragment of data from a paper by McIntosh and
McKeganey and demonstrated that their participant, Helen, used a two-part contrast
structure, ‘I was doing X cos Y,’ to describe her recovery from substance use. Helen’s
account was formulated to demonstrate the social aspects of her renewed identity
through which she described having gained self-respect, liking herself more and having
gained more confidence (doing X) as a consequence of no longer using substances (cos
Y’). Like Helen, participants in the sleep data also use the ‘I was doing X cos Y’ contrast
device when accounting for the way detoxification impacts their dreams. The ‘I was doing
X’ part is used to account for either dreaming more, less, or having different types of
dreams, and the ‘cos Y’ component attributes these changes to no longer using drugs
and/or alcohol. This can be seen in the following extract.
Extract 4.4: SD6: Justin
1. R: (.) e::rm and eh y’[kno]w d- wha- you=
2. J: [mmm]
3. R: =just said eh there >was interestin because< it (unclear)
4. was >really really useful< .hhh chatting to you
5. so THank you very much=
6. J: =Erm .hhh yeah ju- wa- >one one more thing< as well’s
7. that uhm (sniffs) .hh I I definitely notice that when I’m
8. Usi::ng (.)uh DRugs >of any kind< or dri:nking .HH that
9. I don’t dre::am .)nearly [as m]uch (.)I dream [Mut]ch=
10. R: [e:rm] [aha]
11. J: =mo::re when I’m (.) e:rm when I’m sober m- yeah=
12. R: =okay
124
To provide some context for the following analysis, just prior to the opening of Justin’s
account, the IR asked him if there is anything else he would like to add to the interview.
In receipt Justin mentions things that had not been covered, including using technology,
lack of physical activities, and other actions that impact his sleep. Over lines 1-5, the IR
provides a “summarising account” (Roulston 2016: 79) that includes a compliment ‘what
you just said there was interesting’ (line 3), and ‘really really useful’ (line 4), which
extrematises the import of Justin’s contribution. The IR then thanks Justin for his
contribution (line 5); ‘thank you’ is a sequence closing formulation (Raymond and
Zimmerman 2007), while the summary provides a formulation of the “cumulative
significance” of Justin’s contribution (Clayman 1989: 670). It also invokes the IR’s identity
(Whitehead and Baldry 2018).
After this, at line 6 and without prompting, Justin invokes a topic shift, ‘one more thing’
that has no topical connection with the prior turn (Bergmann and Perakyla 2014). Given
that the interviewer has already signalled interview closure, the initial particles of the
turn are hesitant and include an ‘Erm’, in breath, two cut offs ‘ju-’ and ‘wa-’ followed by
the utterance ‘one more thing,’ that in combination signal Justin’s awareness that he is
extending the interview after it has been closed which may be treated by the IR as
problematic. It also constitutes a stance taking procedure (Dubois 2007, Stivers et al
2011) through which he resists the IR’s previous attempt at closure. Essentially, Justin
keeps the conversation going by invoking his rights, as an IE, to provide more information
about his experiences of dreaming and recovery. Furthermore, ‘one more thing’ signals
to the IR that an account is forthcoming, in the same way as Patricia’s ‘n listen’ in the
previous extract. Justin then produces an account ‘I definitely notice that when I’m using
drugs of any kind or drinking,’ ‘that I don’t dream nearly as much’ and ‘I dream much
125
more when I’m sober.’ Justin is using the account to take the stance and extend the
interview. Furthermore, he mobilises an extreme case formulation ‘definitely notice.’ As
seen in the previous extracts this, “presents [Justin’s] lived experience as being
unchallengeable” (Wooffitt 1992: 75). Furthermore, ECF’s can be used to normalise or
pathologise people’s actions and character (Edwards 2000). When used in the context of
using and abstaining from substance use, they are both morally and culturally implicative.
The thing that Justin has ‘definitely noticed’ is produced as the first part of the contrast
device ‘when I’m using drugs or drinking’ (line 8, ‘I was doing X’) and the second part
(‘cos Y’) is produced when he accounts for not dreaming nearly as much when he’s using
substances and dreaming much more when he’s sober. Although he does not explicitly
use ‘cos,’ he attributes the changes to his dreams to causal factors, i.e., either using or not
using. The noticing (line 7) provides the warrant for the tellability of the dream
(Bergmann and Perakyla 2014) and use of the ‘I was doing X cos Y’ method both
authorises the version of events and cues the hearer to understand that this is the
‘facticity’ of Justin’s experiences (Potter 1996). Through the use of these resources, he is
doing identity work relating to his dreams and how they are impacted by substance use
and abstinence. Furthermore, Justin’s account orients to the immediacy of the
rehabilitative setting and demonstrates his cultural competencies by making the contrast
between his experiences before he entered rehabilitation and his recovery status. By
formulating the account in this way, Justin has repaired his previously ‘spoiled identity’
(Goffman 1963). Additionally, it is Justin rather than the IR who introduces the
relationship between dreaming and recovery, so even though the IR has a schedule (as
discussed in chapter three), the topic of dreams has been spontaneously invoked. This
demonstrates both the relevance of dreams for participants in recovery and the
126
significance of undertaking empirical analysis of such talk using combined CA/MCA. By
using this approach, it becomes possible to uncover the fine-grained sequential details of
the talk as well as the categorial relevancies, as they are produced in participants’ own
terms.
As we saw in the previous sections, when displaying recovered versions of self, the
participants are not solely talking as ex-users as they also have another practical aspect
of identity to manage as IEs. So, at any one time they may be negotiating both the topic at
hand and the broader recovery context, which are matters of stake and interest. Justin’s
account, like Helen’s, is therefore recipient designed to accomplish this tacit work. The
categories ‘using’ and ‘not using’ carry mundane moral relevancies (Jayyusi, 1984,
Schubert 2009, Robles 2019) that are implicative for both Justin’s construction of self in
situ and his broader social identity outside of the interview. Justin’s account is thus
produced through “reflexively related phenomena established in the recipient design of
the talk” (Watson 1981: 99), which is “tied to understandings of past and present
experiences between speaker and recipient” (Fitzgerald et al. 2009: 53). By constructing
the account in this way, he attends to both the omnirelevant context as well as the local
contingencies through actions that are tied to both his and the IR’s knowledge of “who
they are and what they are doing” (Fitzgerald et al. 2009: 47). In this respect the talk is
intersubjectively accomplished. Overall, by foregrounding his recovery identity, Justin is
‘doing normal.’ We see similar methods being used to produce a normative identity in the
following extract.
In the following extract, TJ invokes two ‘I was doing X cos Y’ contrast devices in an account
about the way her dreams have changed as a consequence of using.
127
Extract 4.5: SD10: TJ
1. SN: .hh so as a child then y- y- you remember(.)you say you
2. went to bed quite (.) e regular ti::mes.=
3. TJ: =yeah
4. SN: n y- did that .hh as you became a teenager did that
5. change in terms of getting up in the mornings and so on.=
6. TJ: =well cos I had a >older brother< Steve::n (.)he was a
7. year older than me:: an my dad always said .hhh that e he
8. was allowed an ec- hour extra:=
9. SN: hmm
10. TJ =until I got to that certain age and I think it was about
11. Twe::lve I was (.) allowed up until ten o’clock but as
12. before I had to go to bed at nine o’clock=
13. SN: hmmm ((sniffs))
14. TJ: =an mm (0.3) yeah but that was y’know that was the: bed
15. time ten o’clock (.)ten o’clock(.)until I was sixtEE:n
16. SN: oh
17. (0.6)
18. TJ: and I’ve never really had a problem wiv like
19. going to sleep (0.4) Yeah so I THINK >when
20. I started USi::n< (0.4)it was it
21. was jst(.)pfff it was all over the place (.)
22. en I started NOT dreamin at a:ll when I was usin
23. SN: mmm
In this extract, the IR asks a question about TJ’s bedtime routine as a child, which is
receipted with an agreement token ‘yeah’ at line 3, following which there is some
intervening talk about TJ’s bedtime routines, which I am not focussing on as my interest
is in the contrast device. At line 18, TJ shifts the topic to talk about sleep. She says she’s
never really had a problem with sleep but she ’THINK’s when she ‘started Usi::ng’ it was
‘all over the place’ and she ‘started NOT dreaming at a:ll’ (‘I was doing X’, line 21) when
she ‘was usin’ (‘cos Y’, line 22). The account is formulated as a three-part structure and
includes two extreme case formulations, as she ‘started ‘NOT dreaming’ ‘at all,’ which
asserts the strongest case (Pomerantz 1986) and upgrades the quality of TJ’s experience,
thus signalling her investment in the claim (Edwards 2000). Like Justin, the ECFs have
been used to normalise both her actions and character (Edwards 2000). Subsequently,
she overturns her previously pathologised identity (Smith 1978). TJ also foregrounds her
128
recovery identity by using the past tense ‘when I was using’ (line 22), which implies that
she no longer does. Furthermore, TJ invokes the talk about both using and dreaming.
In the following extract, Callie also attributes a lack of dreaming to ‘using,’ i.e., being ‘on
the cannabis.’
Extract 4.6: SD5: Callie
1. R: an then du- ri- that that >sortof< the sleep latency as
2. we may s- yeah you f[el]l asleep w- would anything happen=
3. C: [mm]
4. R: =during the Ni::ght. W- did you >sortof< wake up [At all.=]
5. C: [.hh NO ]
6. R: =on the cannabis.
7. C: =and also re::ally >hh er::m >something that I really
8. liked< Abou:t (.) th- the cannabis as well
9. is that I didn’t dre::am AT all
At Line 1, the IR is talking about a technical aspect of sleep, ‘sleep latency as we may s-
yeah’. The cut off ‘s-‘ can be heard as say, i.e., ‘as we may say.’ In formulating the turn
using professional language adopted by sleep researchers, the IR is potentially orienting
towards his identity as a sleep researcher. He is also using social science language (Potter
and Hepburn 2012). Furthermore, in one sense the use of ‘we’ is can be heard as an
inclusive pronoun, but it can also be heard as excluding the IE because it orients towards
his identity as a member of an alternative collection, i.e., one that the IE does not belong
to. This is evident in the IR’s self-repair, ‘you fell asleep’ (line 2), which displays
recognition that there may be a problem for the recipient in using such language. The IE
invokes a receipt ‘mm,’ in overlap (line 3), which appears to accept the repair of the use
of technical language. The IR then invokes a question about whether anything would
‘happen during the Ni::ght’. (line 4), and a further question ‘did you >sort of< wake up At
all.’ (line 4), which displays the IRs investment in the talk about ‘the cannabis.’ The
129
qualifier, ‘on the cannabis’ is produced at line 6. It is receipted, at line 5 by Callie, in
overlap with ‘At all,’ with a negative, disaffiliative response ‘hh NO’. The amplification of
‘NO’ emphasises the disagreement (Pomerantz 1984). However, it does not disrupt the
progressivity of the interview. Furthermore, the qualifier is receipted with a latched,
contiguous account, and over lines 7-9. Callie provides a qualified description that what
she really liked about the cannabis was that she didn’t dream ‘At all’ (‘I was doing X cos
Y’, line 9). Like TJ, Callie uses the past tense which displays her recovery identity and
foregrounds her normalcy. Furthermore, she invokes the topic of dreaming.
So far, I have shown that the ‘I was doing X cos Y’ device is used to highlight a change to
the way dreams are experienced as a result of using substances, Callie and TJ both stop
dreaming and in each case the recovery identity is oriented towards. In the following
extract, Maria accounts for having ‘crazy dreams,’ for the same reason.
Extract 4.7: SD11: Maria
1. SN: WELL you were saying at this period (.) I think in
2. CHILdhood you had (0.3) erm (.) er::m .hh I think you talk
3. about dreams and childhood weren’t you. .h[h sorry can’t=]
4. P: [we- I was but]
5. SN: =Oh no maybe NOT .hhhss maybe it was later on (.)
6. it was at some point you said you had were having them=
7. P: =I thi- I was in DEtox that I wh- I fir- when I
8. last went to [deto]x that I when I was detoxin I ad(.)=
9. S: [OKAY]
10. =some CRA::ZY[dreams(.4) yeah] yeah in the first t-=
11. SN: [that was detox.]
12. P: =two munfs of like .HHH gettin clean like bein off th-
13. off the drugs en .hh getting to like normal life
In the above extract, in the first question and answer sequence there is a dispute over a
claim by the IR that Maria had dreams in childhood (lines 1-4). At line 5, the IR invokes a
three part list, comprising a self-repair, ‘Oh no maybe NOT’ .hhhss ‘maybe it was later on’
130
(.), then at line 6 ‘it was at some point you said you had were having them.’ The list is
oriented towards by the IE who “monitors for turn completion" (Jefferson 1990: 77) by
waiting for the third part to be completed before taking up the next turn. Maria then
provides an account about when she was detoxing (lines 7- 8), which is receipted with an
overlapping agreement token, ‘okay’ (line 9) that resolves the initial troubles. Maria
continues the account about having ‘CRA::zy dreams’ by mobilising the first part of the
contrast device (‘I was doing X’, line 10), which is completed, after the IR’s overlapping
question (line 11). The account is formulated as three-part list in which she attributes
having crazy dreams to, ‘two munfs of getting clean,’ ‘like being off the drugs’ and ‘getting
to like a normal life’ (‘cos Y’, lines 12-13). So, like Callie, she also foregrounds her
normativity.
In the following extract, Jonnie does similar work by establishing his recovery identity.
Extract 4.8: SD8: Jonnie
1. J: are you >interested< in dre::ms.=
2. R: =absolutely (.)[abs]o]lutely
((lines 3-38 omitted))
39. J: pres- presumably you’re ALWays dre::aming ss hhh (.)
40. .HHHH °I assume you’re always dreaming° but e::rm (.3)
41. yeah so I- I can I can remember these >HEAlthy dre:ams<
42. actually .HH not eh .h touch wood ((touching table
43. noise)) not n- no nightmares .[HHHHH ]E::rm but=
44. R: [yeah.]
45. =tha- that has ch- my my SLEEP (0.7) my (.) dreams
46. HAve become >more vivid< en I know that I’ve been
47. dreaming SINce >I’ve been in recovery<
For this extract, I will only bring out relevant features. Notably, it is Jonnie who invokes
the topic of dreaming at line 1, when he asks the IR whether he is interested in dreams.
The IR receipts the question with a repeated use of the ECF ‘absolutely,’ as we have seen
above this legitimates the claim (Pomerantz, 1986, Edwards 2000). The IR’s acceptance
131
of the topic gives Jonnie licence to talk about dreams, which he does over an extended
number of lines throughout which Jonnie is both making a display of his knowledge of
dreams and ‘doing normal’. At line 38, he invokes a cut off ‘pres-,‘ which is self-repaired
to ‘presumably’, ‘you’re ALWays dre::aming.’ The use of the pronoun ‘you’re’ ‘always
dreaming’ is a generalised other, that is used at the beginning of the construction of an
account about Jonnie’s normativity. At line 41, he introduces the category ‘healthy
dreams,’ which is contrasted with the category ‘nightmares’ at line 43. At line 45, he
invokes a cut off ‘ch-,‘ which we can infer means changed because he then describes
having ‘more vivid’ (dreams) (line 46). So, the ‘more’ implies a contrast, and therefore, a
change. Furthermore, he builds the account in relation to the changing quality of his
dreams. He ‘healthy and more vivid’ dreams, rather than ‘nightmares,’ and he ‘knows’ he
‘has been dreaming’ ‘since he has been in recovery’ (lines 46- 47). So, in effect, Jonnie is
saying I am like everybody else, i.e., normal. I return to the use of personal pronouns for
making knowledge claims in chapter six.
In the forgoing analysis I have shown that participants use the ‘I was doing X cos Y’
contrast device to describe changes to their dreams in relation to their recovery
identities. They invoke the first part to describe a relationship between ‘using,’
‘recovery/detox’ and dreams, relative to either changes to quality or quantity of dreams
and attribute the changes to either having used substances, or when they were in
recovery/detox. For example, Justin accounted for dreaming more when he is sober,
which he contrasted with dreaming less when he was using drink or drugs. In using the
contrast, he foregrounded his recovery identity which displayed compliance with the
expectations of the rehabilitative setting. Furthermore, he introduced the above
categories spontaneously, demonstrating the significance of the analytical approach
132
adopted in this thesis as it can specifically point to who initiates topics in the data. As such
it avoids the problems, I outlined in chapters one and two that the thesis seeks to address.
In the other extracts, we saw similar work. For example, TJ accounted for the quantity of
her dreams changing when using. She also introduced the talk about dreams and the
identity category ‘being a user,’ but she implicitly invoked her recovery identity by using
the past tense ‘when she was using.’ Similarly, Callie described having had ‘no dreams at
all’ when she was ‘on the cannabis,’ which also implicitly produced her recovery identity
using the past tense. In this instance, it was the IR who introduced the topic ‘on the
cannabis’ but it was Callie who introduced dreams as a topic. Maria also invoked her
recovery identity in relation to the quality of her dreams which were ‘crazy’ in detox. She
provided a detailed categorial account about ‘being clean,’ being ‘off the drugs’ and
getting ‘back to normal life.’ She also introduced the topics of both dreams and detox.
Finally, Jonnie, talked about the quality of his dreams as being more healthy and more
vivid since he has been in recovery which highlighted his recovery identity.
The preceding analysis demonstrates both the relevance of dreams for participants in
rehabilitation and the significance of undertaking empirical analysis of such talk using
combined CA/MCA. By using this approach, it has been possible to uncover the fine-
grained sequential details and categorial relevancies in these interactions, as they are
produced in participants’ own terms. In this respect, the analysis shows why it is
important to let participants own recovery narratives emerge rather than imposing
apriori categories on the talk, as was the case with McIntosh and McKeganey’s. It also
shows that dreams are a significant feature in descriptions about recovery, which
133
suggests that further research should be done by examining how people in recovery
account for their experiences of dreams per se, not just ‘using dreams.’
As discussed in chapter three, there can be a question mark over the implicit use of
categories because analysts may be perceived as being ‘analytically promiscuous’ (Cf.
Schegloff 2007a). Nonetheless, Stokoe (2012a, 2012b) suggests that inferential reasoning
can be implied, even when the categories are not stated explicitly, as long as a warrant
for analysts’ claims are observable and reportable in the data. Robles (2019) also
suggests that categories do not have to be explicitly invoked but argues that identifying
what may be implied through the use of a category is analytically more challenging than
working with explicit ones. Furthermore, omnirelevant categories are always available
as a resource that can be used in the course of some interactional conduct and may
become relevant at any time (Sacks 1992). For participants in the sleep and recovery
research ‘being a user’ is an omnirelevant category, so it is unsurprising that they orient
towards it when producing their recovery talk. Finally, Baker (2000: 112) has argued that
the analysis of categories shows how ‘discourses’ are ‘locked into place,’ so when
speakers describe their actions, they assemble a social world in which their categories
have a central place, which has been shown in the foregoing accounts. By managing the
talk about having been a user and displaying their recovery identities in relation to the
changing quality and quantity of dreams, the analysis shows that the production of
recovery identities (for these participants) is categorially bound up with concerns about
morality and representivity as normative. This highlights their commonsense
understandings about what constitutes appropriate behaviour in the waking world. So
not only do they do being ‘normal’ (Nettleton et al 2012), they do so in subtle and nuanced
134
ways through the reflexive and indexical use of descriptions about their dreams in
recovery.
4.5. Summary
In this chapter, I have focused on the interactional production of identity in relation to
talk about recovery from substance use and talk about ‘using dreams’ by people in
recovery from substance use. With respect to the former, I re-analysed an extract from
research by McIntosh and McKeganey (2000), which showed that their participant’s use
of categories to account for her recovery differed to those they had identified in their
analysis, which drew on an apriori framework. In effect, they had erased the participant’s
categories by applying some from the preconceived framework and fitting them to the
extract. For the re-analysis of the extract, I adopted a categorial approach because the
empirical data were not available, so it was not possible to use a combined CA/MCA
analysis. Nonetheless, it was possible to empirically demonstrate their participant’s own
use of recovery categories. Furthermore, in addition to erasing their participants’
categories, they excluded analysis of their own talk and by doing so overlooked the
interactional work that was produced in the interviews by themselves and the
participant. I demonstrated that their participant used a two-part contrast structure that
I refer to as ‘I was doing X cos Y,’ to display her recovered identity as normative and
inoculate against her previous identity as a ‘user.’ By showing the participant’s own use
of categories I made steps towards addressing the topic/resource issue that the thesis is
concerned with.
In the second section of the chapter, I continued to focus on the production of identity
and used a combined sequential and categorial approach to analyse extracts from the
135
sleep data. I showed that the production of identity is invoked in relation to the interview
setting, by both IEs and IRs, and also in relation to accounts about having ‘using dreams.’
In both instances the categorial work is morally implicative. In addition to highlighting
the categorial work, I showed the rhetorically persuasive use of language and members’
methods, such as extreme case formulations were used for managing both the talk about
using dreams and IE/IR relationship, as it was produced and renewed in situ.
Furthermore, I demonstrated that even though invoking the category ‘using dreams’ may
be perceived to be morally loaded, it was oriented towards in variable ways and not
always treated as delicate (Robles 2019). These are important concerns that warrant
consideration when interviewing people whose talk is about their lived experiences.
Within this chapter, I have continued to address the thesis aims by identifying the
sequential and categorial methods that are used by IEs and IRS in the interviews about
dreams and have identified and demonstrated what those methods were used to
accomplish, which has extended upon previous research relating to what is known about
the way people account for and make sense of their dreams. In the final section, I focussed
on the use of the ‘I was doing X cos Y device,’ I showed that the first part was used to
describe changes to the quality or quantity of dreams and the second part was invoked to
attribute a cause for those changes. The changes were accounted for as being due to either
not using substances or when they were still using them. By using the device, they
represented themselves as normal. This was either explicitly produced when recounting
their recovery experiences or implicitly invoked by using the past tense to describe the
changes as being due to when they were still using substances. Throughout this chapter,
I have shown that examining dreams can provide a way of seeing how people orient
towards their recovery identity by using commonsense, taken for granted methods that
are produced in relation to moral and cultural norms.
136
In the following chapter, I demonstrate two types of contrast structures that are used to
inoculate against the potential for undesired responses when dream content is morally
implicative, or to downgrade the significance of culturally incompatible dream content.
In both cases, IEs produce evaluations by applying a general cultural rule to the specific
events within the dreams, which highlights a fundamental and ongoing concern with
morality and identity. I start by examining what I refer to as the ‘I was dreaming of doing
X but Y’ two-part contrast structure and show that participants use the first part when
accounting for dream content and they use the second part to deflect accountability for
the content by invoking blamings, denials, evaluations, and objections to represent
themselves as normal. In the second section, I show how IEs orient towards the culturally
inappropriate character of their dreams by using what I refer to as category out of bounds
activities (COBAs). This method is used by accounting for the ‘obvious’, ‘unlikely’ and
‘unproblematic,’ character of the category bound activities in the dream. By using COBAs,
IEs untie themselves from the activities in the dreams because they are out-of-bounds
with the attributes that are normatively tied to the categories of news reporter, tai chi
student and siblings. In using these methods, they display their commonsense
understandings about what constitutes acceptable behaviour in the shared waking world
with the IRs.
137
Chapter Five: Using contrast structures when accounting for dreams 5.1. Introduction
In the previous chapter, I have focused on the interactional production of identity in
relation to talk about recovery from substance use and talk about ‘using dreams’ by
people in recovery from substance use. I re-analysed an extract from research by
McIntosh and McKeganey (2000), which showed that their participant’s use of categories
to account for her recovery differed to those they had identified in their analysis.
Furthermore, they overlooked the interactional work that was produced in the
interviews by themselves and the participant. I demonstrated that their participant used
a two-part contrast structure that I refer to as ‘I was doing X cos Y,’ to display her
recovered identity as normative and inoculate against her previous identity as a ‘user.’ I
argue that the analysis confused topic with resource. In the second section of the chapter,
I examined extracts from the sleep dataset and continued to focus on how the production
of identity is oriented towards as a morally accountable action. I showed that orientations
to identity were invoked setting by both IRs and IEs in relation the interview context and
also in relation to accounts about having ‘using dreams’. In the final section of the chapter,
I examined the ‘I was doing X cos Y’ contrast device and showed that participants in
recovery from substance use, produce the first part to describe changes to the quality or
quantity of their dreams and use the second part to attribute a cause to those changes. I
argued that by using the contrast structure, they undermined their previous ‘user’
identity and foregrounded their recovery identities as normal.
In this chapter, I demonstrate two types of contrast structures that are used to inoculate
against the potential for undesired responses when dream content is morally implicative,
or to downgrade the significance of culturally incompatible dream content. In both cases
138
participants produce evaluations by applying a general cultural rule to the specific events
within the dreams. This highlights a fundamental and ongoing concern with morality and
identity. I start by examining what I refer to as the ‘I was dreaming of doing X but Y,’ two-
part contrast structure and show that participants use the first part when accounting for
dream content and use the second part to deflect accountability for the content by
invoking blamings, denials, evaluations, and objections to represent themselves as
normal. In the second section, I show how IEs orient towards the culturally inappropriate
character of their dreams by using what I refer to as category out of bounds activities
(COBAs) to make this explicit by accounting for the ‘obvious,’ ‘unlikely’ and
(‘un)problematic,’ character of the category out of bound activities in the dream. By using
COBAs, they untie themselves from the activities in the dreams, relative to their out-of-
boundness. In using these methods, they display their commonsense understandings
with the IRs, about what constitutes acceptable behaviour in the shared waking world.
By adopting an applied CA/MCA approach to analyse the data, I show how a world shared
between the IRs and IEs is accomplished through the reflexive, indexical and
intersubjective work of both parties to the talk as it is produced in situ. The analysis
shows how both IEs and IRs orient towards the constraints of the interview setting and
omnirelevant concerns outside of it. Furthermore, the categorial relevancies for both
parties to the talk are reflected in their ongoing concerns about identity, morality, and
culture. This is the case with respect to the associated rights and expectations for IRs and
IEs in the interview setting, and also for IEs in relation to the content of their dreams.
Having outlined the structure of the chapter, I now move on to examine the use the of the
‘I was dreaming of doing X but Y’ contrast device. The first part is used to account for a
139
category bound activity in the dream and the second part is produced to distance the
dream teller from the content of the dream because it is morally implicative. So, it is used
to manage stakes and interests in the interview setting by rendering the participants’
identities as normal. In some instances, we see the use of the documentary method of
interpretation (Garfinkel 1967), whereby the IEs’ talk orients towards an aspect of their
identities by mobilising a general commonsense cultural rule about their dreamt events
to account for a specific action in situ. As with the forgoing analysis, the use of this device
also highlights how morally implicative dreams are managed through the use of turn-
taking practices and the invocation of categories by making them relevant, observable
and reportable. As with the previous chapter, where lines have been omitted from the
extracts in this chapter, the full transcriptions can be seen in appendix H.
5.2. ‘I was dreaming of doing X but Y’
As Wooffitt (1991, 1992) has shown, the management of stakes and interests is a
pertinent consideration in talk concerning anomalous phenomena, for example seeing a
UFO or claiming to have psychic powers, as there is a cultural scepticsm towards these
kinds of reported events in which the ‘sightings’ may not be transparently available for
recipients of accounts about them. Therefore, particular conversational techniques are
used to validate the authenticy of the account and normalise representations of self,
which mitigate against the potential for scepticism or other types of undesirable
response, whilst also implying that speakers’ circumstances allowed them to have a clear
view of the phenomena (Childs and Murray 2010).
Wooffitt (1992), identified a two part contrast structure that is used by tellers of accounts
concerning paranormal activities, wherein the first part, ‘I was just doing X,’ represents
140
the mundane activity that the speaker was involved in just prior to the onset of the event,
and the second part, ‘when Y’ signifies its occurence. Wooffitt’s analysis revealed that
these two connected parts were organised to warrant particular versions of events when
they had specific implications relating to speakers’ stakes and interests.
In the analysis that follows I demonstrate a variation of Wooffitt’s device that is used in
the organisation of dream telling, which is invoked to manage the teller’s stakes and
interests if they report having experienced morally implicative dream content. The first
part, ‘I was dreaming of doing X,’ is invoked to describe a dreamt action, while the second
part, ‘but Y,’ is produced to display a problem with the dream content and used to ward
off the potential receipt of unwanted responses by invoking a ‘stake inoculation’ (Potter
1996). Objecting to the deviant dreamt behaviour provides the norms, in the waking
world, from which the content deviates (Smith 1978: 34). I argue that this shows how,
even when identity work relates to the content of a dream, it is still oriented towards as
a moral dilemma (Jayyusi 1984). So, as with the user categories discussed in the previous
chapter, these accounts are categorially tied to concerns about identity, morality, and
culture. However, in the dream accounting context, attributing accountability for dreamt
actions makes relevant participants’ perceptions of cultural and normative concerns in
the waking world, which is assumed to be shared between interlocutors. Dream tellers
make reference to such a social order but may do so in implicit or presumptive ways, so
the moral order is presented as taken for granted, through practical sociolological
reasoning.
Dream accounts are not simply accounts, but stories of how social actions happened,
hence they can also be considered as rhetorical constructions of accountability (Edwards
141
and Stokoe 2009, 2015). To provide some context, the first fragment is taken from an
interview with a couple (P1 is Isabel and P2 is Chloe) that follows a question from the IR,
i.e., me, about whether they have any nice dreams, because up to this point they have been
telling me about what they categorise as bad dreams. In the the first part of the ‘I was
dreaming of doing X but Y’ contrast structure, Chloe describes having to wear a dress that
she had previously worn to a relative’s wedding on her own wedding day. The second
part (‘but Y’) is produced as an evaluation of the dreamt activity and invoked as an
objection to it.
Extract 5.1: DD:2: Isabel (I) and Chloe (C)
1. L: okay .hh I’m gonna come back to something we said a
2. while ago:: which ws (.) about .hhh having good
3. d[re:]:ams.=
4. C: [hmm]
5. L: =so:: (.) >let’s talk about that a little bit< °cos we (.)
6. moved on t- something else° .hhhh
7. C: co- cos >my good dreams are in a way< cos I’ve injoyed
8. what’s gone on ha .h in my dre:ams .hh an (.) it was
9. >sort of like< a nice experie::nce an a [nice=]
10. I: [mmm ]
11. C: =because I s’pose dreams are just sortof memories when
12. you wake up becoos (0.3) it feels as though you’ve
13. experienced (.) .hh those thi:ngs >but rea:lly it’s
14. just in your imagination< n so that (.) memory then
15. seems like a ni::ce (.) good thing that’s(.)
16. [happened=]
17. I: [happened ]
18. L: en can you remember any (.) n[ice. = ]
19. C: [no. ehe]he .hhh sorry
20. [I ca::n’t =]
21. L: [=no its’ ok]ay no no that’s fine.= (unclear)
22. I: =you do dream quite a lot about our wedding
23. (0.4)
24. C: I di:d didn’t I.=
25. I: mmmmm
26. C: =but I was dreamin like in fa- <that I was wearing my
27. pink dre::ss< that I wore to my e:rm (.)aunt an uncle’s
28. wedding hh >a couple of years ago< .hhh an >I didn’t
29. wanna be wea(he)rin(h)it uh e=
30. L: [ahehehe ]
31. C: [(giggles)]
32. L: =so that wa::sn’t a good dream then.
142
Over lines 1-6, the I refer to an earlier part of the interview where ‘good dreams’ were
mentioned and produce an instruction that we ‘talk about that a little bit,’ which invokes
my identity as IR. Chloe receipts at line 7, thus invoking her IE identity, as does Isabel At
line 22). Notably, Chloe’s dream about their forthcoming wedding is initially prompted
by Isabel, ‘you do dream quite a lot about our wedding’ (line 22). The use of ‘you do x,’ is
what Jefferson (1978) refers to as a news mark that promotes the telling of something
newsworthy, and thus making the dream tellable (Bergmann and Perakyla 2014). This is
followed with an inter turn silence (line 23), which may indicate some interactional
trouble, or that Chloe is ‘searching’ for a dream or the right way to explain it (Goodwin
and Goodwin, 1986). Following the silence, Chloe receipts Isabel’s statement with an
agreement: ‘I did didn’t I’ (line 24), which constitutes an other-initiated repair (Schegloff
1997) marked by a change in tense from the present ‘you do’ to the past tense ‘I did.’ At
line 25, Isabel receipts this with a continuer and acknowledgement token ‘mmm.’
Following this, over lines 26-27, Chloe describes a dream, about wearing a pink dress’
(line 4, ‘I was dreaming of doing X’), which is rhetorically packaged to warrant the
facticity of the dream. The specific formulation ‘my pink dress’ uses the first-person
pronoun, which provides the warrant that Chloe is talking about a pink dress that she
owns in the waking world, rather than it just being ‘a’ pink dress that she was wearing in
the dream. This is further corroborated with her account about having worn it to ‘m::y
aunt and uncle’s wedding a couple of years ago.’ Her use of an additional personal
pronoun ‘my’ and the temporal marker ‘couple of years ago’ locates the dream within
everyday reality (Bergmann and Perakyla 2014, Perakyla and Bergmann 2020).
The second part of the contrast device (‘but Y’) is invoked as an objection, over lines 28-
29, ‘an I didn’t wanna be wea(he)ing it’. Chloe’s not wanting to wear that particular dress
143
can be heard as a breach of cultural norms about what brides wear to their weddings,
which provides the warrant to infer that she would normally want to be wearing
something else to her own wedding. This particular formulation includes an ‘evaluative
perspective’ (not wanting to do something) which emerges through Chloe’s ‘evaluation
of her action’ in the dream as problematic (Bergmann and Perakyla 2014, slide 42). Chloe
makes a distinction between her actions in the two ontological experiential states of
dreaming and waking by talking as if there is a ‘real her’ outside of the dream that
contrasts with the dreaming Chloe within it, hence she makes a “public identity display”
(Benwell and Stokoe 2006: 3), that even in the dream she would not want to wear that
particular dress to her own wedding. Note also, the onset of laughter embedded within
the word ‘wearing’ (line 29). Jefferson (1979) has shown that laughter may be accepted
or declined, and Clift (2016) proposes that it may be affiliative or disaffiliative. In this
instance it is affiliative and accepted by me immediately in overlap (line 30), after which,
in overlap, Chloe joins in (line 31). So, we are both treating this account as not only being
newsworthy but also as a humorous event. Although Chloe is telling what might be
perceived as a ‘troubles’ tale (Jefferson 1984), the onset of laughter hearably downgrades
its import for both of us. Furthermore, our co-produced laughter makes culture relevant
by displaying our mutually arrived at intersubjective understanding that we both know
what is, and more importantly, what is not typically acceptable for brides to wear at their
wedding, (although, to be clear, not all brides in our culture may choose, or want to wear
a ‘special’ dress for their wedding).
As Sacks suggests:
144
“a culture is an apparatus for generating recognizable [sic] actions…members of
a culture share the ability to use these practices and actions in interactions
with each other to produce orderly, intelligible courses of action and
interaction: to make sense together” (Sacks 1992: v1: 226).
In addition to the sequential work, the categorial work in the extract relating to morality,
identity and culture is a ‘centrally organising feature of the account (Jayyusi 1984) that
has been demonstrated by examining the “normative assessments that [are] produce[d]
as a practical and occasioned matter” (Housley and Fitzgerald 2009: 346, attributed to
Jayyusi, 1991). Firstly, it is Isabel who mobilises the membership category ‘couple’
(people who are getting married, line 22), through the category bound activity, which
makes their coupling relevant and warrants their membership of this particular category.
Furthermore, the ‘doing of being a couple’ is accomplished interactionally, over lines 22-
26, as an observable and reportable feature in the data (Pomerantz and Mandelbaum
2005). So not only is the category ‘couple’ made relevant it also displays how this couple
‘hold each other accountable as a couple’ (Pomerantz and Mandelbaum 2005), in their
co-produced narrative relating to a particular dream. It is an interesting feature of this
particular interview that Isabel prompts Chloe’s memory of the dream, which suggests
that they talk to one another about their dreams and subsequently they can help each
other remember them. Chloe’s treatment of the ‘pink dress dream’ is constituted as a
breach to the broader social and normative order, as it invokes a social discourse that
appeals to her knowledge of culturally attendant rights and obligations for ‘brides to be’
within the westernised context in which the interview is taking place. The account can be
‘read off’ (Fitzgerald et al. 2009) as a personal and contextual dilemma, since within this
culture it is not typically the case that brides wear a dress, they have previously worn in
145
public. Indeed, the wedding dress industry thrives on this not being the case (Boden
2001).
Chloe’s account of this category bound activity (Sacks 1992), explicitly invokes the
collections ‘family’ and ‘stage of life’ (Chloe, and her aunt and uncle), and displays her
gendered identity as a female, as a niece, and as a bride to be. Furthermore, through the
question-and-answer sequence, Chloe and Isabel’s identities as IE and mine as IR are
oriented towards, as we have seen in the previous chapter, and the account is constituted
as a practical and occasioned matter within the interview. Even though this account is
about a dream, it mobilises the same kinds of resources that are used to accomplish
practical action in other social contexts. Furthermore, the account is produced using the
documentary method of interpretation (DMI), as Chloe applies a general cultural rule to
the specific activity of wearing the previously worn dress to demonstrate her meaning
about what constitutes appropriate attire for brides. In this respect she represents her
understanding of what is perceived to be normal for brides, in a comparable way to Agnes
when she produced her version of what constitutes natural and normal ways of ‘doing
being female,’ as discussed in chapter three (Garfinkel 1967). As we will see below,
Georgina also makes an evaluation of a dream and uses the DMI to demonstrate her
understanding of a commonsense rule about the normative expectations of how to treat
animals.
In the following extract, Jemima also objects to the content of a dream and mobilises
various sequential and categorial actions, including the ‘I was dreaming of doing X but Y’
contrast structure.
146
Extract 5.2: DD:7: Jemima
1. L: okay e::rm .hhh so I’m gonna come back to something you
2. me- mentioned earlier (.)hh which is eh wh- h- how
3. .hhh >you think dre:ams relatid to real life.<=
4. J: =e::rm >okay well last night< I dreamt that
5. I was in la::bour(he)and(he)I have no(h[e)chi]ldre::n=
6. L: [ahhe]
7. J: =and I’m not planning to have >any in re(he)al life<
Over lines 1-3, I ask Jemima about an earlier part of the interview where she had
mentioned that dreams relate to real life. This is receipted at line 4 with a temporal
referent ‘last night’, which is a temporal marker that locates the dream within everyday
reality (Bergmann and Perakyla 2014) and warrants its facticity. As with the previous
extract, our respective identities as IR and IE are now co-produced. Jemima then
produces an account with a three part list ‘I dreamt that I was in la::bour’ (line 5), ‘and
I have no children,’ and ‘I’m not planning to >have any in real life< (lines 5-6). With the
first part of the list, Jemima invokes the ‘I was dreaming of doing X’ and the second part
(‘but Y’), is produced in both the second and third parts of the list. The account is
produced to distance herself from the categories and standard relational pair, ‘mother’
and ‘children.’ Furthermore, she prefaces it as a dream and makes specific reference to
herself as the dreamer/teller (Bergmann and Perakyla 2014, Perakyla and Bergmann
2020), thereby constituting her sleeping and waking actions as dichotomised ontological
events. The formulation ‘I’m not planning to’ is like Chloe’s ‘I didn’t wanna be’ in that they
are both evaluating the content of the dream and objecting to it. But the way Jemima
scripts the formulation (Edwards 1994) includes several actions. We can observe that
‘I’m not planning to have any children in real life,’ resists incumbency of the category
‘mother,’ it is also ‘doing gender’ by ‘speaking as a female’ but as one who is making a life
choice that could potentially be open to challenge (Kitzinger 2000). It also constitutes a
147
‘disclosure’ about Jemima’s life choices in the waking world which is prompted by and
contrasted to her ‘internal’ dream experience. Jemima’s narrative, like Chloe’s, connects
events between her waking and dreaming experiences to make certain incidents relevant
to the business at hand (Abell et al. 2017) and in this respect invokes the IE identity.
Furthermore, Like Chloe, Jemima’s resistance to the content of the dream also arises from
an ‘evaluation’ of her dream (Berger and Perakyla 2014) through which she makes a
display of it being morally implicative, relative to her identity in the waking world.
Additionally, she also invokes the MCDs ‘family’ and ‘stage of life’ (mother/ child). The
account also appeals to a general cultural rule through the use of categorial attributes for
mothers, i.e., ‘being in labour’ and ‘having children’. Jemima uses these category bound
activities to distance herself from the category ‘mother’ and to make a display of what
constitutes normal for her, i.e., as not ‘planning’ to be a mother.
In the following extract, we can also observe the ‘I was dreaming of doing X but Y’ device
being used to make a recognisable display of a dream’s moral implicativeness by
objecting to the actions within it. Just prior to the production of the first extract, Georgina
has been describing numerous dreams that she made notes on because she was preparing
for the interview. She then produces the following account:
Extract 5.3: DD:4: Georgina
1. L: is this >kinda makin you refle:ct< on .hhh (.)
2. thi::ngs >jst the interview itse::lf.<=
3. G: =yea::h OH s m n[o::w.] re[flec]t on YEAH I’spose=
4. L: [yeah ] [yeah]
5. G: =cus you’re a:sking me questions like (.) y’kno::w have I
6. uh >do I know about dream theories< .hhh en (.) >do I
7. kno::w abou:t certain thi::ngs< a::nd I (.) have never
148
8. really (0.3) looked into it in detail I d- I did do:wnload
9. .hhh (.) a dre::am [app on] my [Iphone .hhh] pt a::nd I=
10. L: [right ] [>yeah yeah<]
11. G: =was >one of my dreams recently actualleey< .hh I which
12. I didn’t write it do::wn. Bu- so (.) >I can tell you the
13. ba[sics]< that .hhh I was ha::ving this to:rrid (.).hh=
14. L: [yeah]
15. G: =love affair with a wo::[man] .hhh a:[::nd] (.) it was=
16. L: [yep] [yeah]
17. G: =rea::lly intense n en and >I can’t remember what
18. Happened or where it we:.nt< (0.3) but so I looked up
19. >lesbianism< (.) which I wouldn’t class myself(he)
20. as obviously(he)
Over lines 1-3, I ask Georgina if the interview is making her reflect on her dreams. Over
lines 13 and 15 she invokes the first part of the contrast device, ‘I was ha::ving this
to::rrid love affair with a wo:;man’ (‘I was dreaming of doing X’) and the second part is
invoked as a denial (line 19), ‘which I wouldn’t class myself as,’ i.e., ‘a lesbian’ (‘but Y’),
which acts as a stake inoculation (Potter 1996). The account is produced using extreme
case formulations ‘torrid’ (line 13), and ‘really intense’ (line 17), which as we have seen
in previous analyses legitimates the claim (Pomerantz 1986), warrants the facticity of the
content (Potter 1996), and demonstrates that Georgina is a knowledgeable and reliable
witness (Bergmann and Perakyla 2014). However, she also produces a ‘not remembering’
about what happened or where it went (lines 17 and 18). Not remembering can be a
resource for building or resisting an accusation (Edwards and Potter 1992) and Georgina
is using this to deflect accountability for her dreamt action. In this respect, the account
also makes her a ‘non-reliable’ witness (Bergmann and Perakyla 2014). So, the account is
simultaneously specific and non-specific which illustrates the vagueness that can occur
when recalling dream content (Hilbert 2010) but also shows how representations of self
can be negotiated and renegotiated on a moment-by-moment basis.
149
With respect to the contrast device, it is notable that Georgina says she ‘looked up
>lesbianism<’ (lines 18 – 19). She also utters ‘lesbianism’ more quickly than the
surrounding talk, so it seems to be that she wants to ‘get it out quickly,’ which helps to
distance herself from the category attributes and the potential for being perceived as a
lesbian. Furthermore, when people look things up, they are trying to establish a definitive
meaning by reference to an accepted cultural authority, for example, a dictionary or some
other non-specified source. By ‘looking it up’ she is appealing to an external authority to
justify her claim of not classing herself as a lesbian. She also adds ‘obviously’ (line 20),
which helps to bolster the definitiveness of the claim. We look things up when we do not
know about them, so the implication is that Georgina does not know what lesbianism is,
and by making a display about her lack of understanding she represents herself as
ignorant, or naïve. Moreover, she only knows she is not a lesbian because she looked up
lesbianism.
Georgina is not saying that lesbianism is wrong, she is saying the general ‘class’ does not
apply to her, despite the specific actions in her dream. In denying incumbency of the
category ‘lesbian,’ Georgina also makes her gender identity as a heterosexual female
relevant. Once again, we can observe a range of contrasts at work, through which the
dreamt action is externalised and constructed as a problem in the interview setting. Like
the previous extracts, it also mobilises a concern with identity, morality, and culture, and
invokes IR/IE identities.
In the following extract, which is also about the moral implicativeness of having
sexualised dreams, Janice does similar distancing work, although the second part of the ‘I
150
was dreaming of doing X but Y’ device is produced in the form of a blaming. She also
invokes a commonsense cultural rule to evaluate her dreamt actions.
Extract: 5.4: DD:6: Janice
1. L: okay right .hhhh (.) so in terms of when we talkin (.)
2. slightly earlier about .h the kinds of topics you might
3. not talk to o[thers abo ]::ut e::rm=
4. J: [mmm (.) mm]
5. J: =>oh a[ctually I j]ust remembered (.) I rem[embe]r<=
6. L: [what’s that]. [oh ]
7. [OH e:rr >yeah yeah<]
8. J: [=>actually I did have]dre::ams about< my BRO[THER]=
9. L: [AHH]
10. L: =mm [(he)[GOODO(ha]haha)]
11. J: [fancying my ] brother=
12. L: RI::GHT
13. J: =>an I was alwa::ys an I never I don’t thi-< (.) .HH I
14. never we I .hhhh certainly °did ne I don’t thi::nk I
15. necessarily wou- told Jimmy about it° cos I spose I th-
16. I was not (.) asham::ed of it [but] but its kinda that
17. OH FAMILY >that’s .HHH (.)clearly not right [is(he)]it(he)].<=
18. L: [hehehe ]
19. J: =but y’know o::r or y’know cULTure tells you it’s not
20. .HHH [but I but I can ] remember I did have I did have
21. L: [yeah interesting]
Over lines 1-3, I ask Janice a question about which topics she might censor in
conversations about her dreams with others. She responds in overlap with two affiliative
continuers, ‘mm’ and ‘mm’ (line 4). My end of turn particle ‘e::rm’ (line 3), can be heard
as hedging (Sacks 1992) because as with the user dream question that I discussed in the
previous chapter, not sharing dreams could potentially be due to the delicateness of the
topic. At line 5, Janice produces a three part list ‘oh actually I just remembered,’ ‘I
remember’ and ‘actually I did have dre::ams about my brother.’ She completes the list at
line 8, which includes a repeated memory claim and two ECFs, ‘actually,’ through which
she makes a recognisable display of knowing something which validates the facticity of
the dreams (Pomerantz 1986). Activities such as ‘remembering’ and describing events
have been shown to be arenas where social actions such as blaming, managing attitudes,
151
and attributing responsibility are all constructed (Wooffitt 1992). Janice’s claim to have
‘just’ remembered sets up the dreams as memorable but overly that memorable.
Furthermore, by saying she just remembered the implication is that my question has
prompted her memory. Furthermore, Janice is presenting what she is about to tell me as
unimportant. This downgrades what she is about to say.
Although Janice has worked to downplay the significance of the dreams, she then goes on
to say they are about her brother. In overlap with her utterance of ‘my BROTHER,’ I
respond with an exclamation ‘AAH’ (line 9) that orients back to my initial question about
topics she wouldn’t tell anyone else. Because Janice is going to tell me a dream about her
brother as a censored topic, my ‘ahh’ orients towards a commonsense a cultural rule
about what constitutes morally acceptable behaviour between brothers and sisters.
At line 10, I confirm that this is an appropriate topic with my production of
‘(he)[GOODO(hahaha),’ which makes a display of strong interest. In overlap with my
‘goodo’ Janice specifies that she had dreams about ‘fancying her brother’ (‘I was dreaming
of doing X’), which upgrades its moral and cultural significance. I receipt this with a
stretched ‘right’ (line 12) with upwardly rising intonation and amplitude as well as stress
(Hepburn and Bolden 2013), which further registers my interest and acknowledges the
specificity of the reworked description. Over lines 13-17, Janice produces a turn that is
littered with perturbations, including word stretches, cut offs, aspirations, and quieter
talk. These hesitancies suggest that she is troubling over her response to my question,
and also the inappropriateness of my laughter and utterance ‘goodo,’ through which I
shift stance from speaking in my professional role as IR to speaking in a personal capacity
(Potter and Hepburn 2012). As I discussed in chapter three, this is an example of how,
152
even in what is seemingly an ‘institutional’ setting, the maintenance of being a ‘neutral’
IR is problematic (Rapley 2015, Prior 2017). Janice provides an account and an
evaluation, that she doesn’t think she necessarily told Jimmy (her husband) about it and
that she is not ashamed of it (i.e., the potential charge of incest – lines 15-16), which
downgrades its significance for her. Within the account she produces four ECFs; ‘always,’
‘never’ ‘never’ and ‘certainly,’ through which she bolsters her claim that she didn’t tell
Jimmy about it (Pomerantz 1986) The implication is that she wouldn’t have told Jimmy
because he might have taken issue with her dreaming about, not only about fancying her
brother, but fancying anyone, as we live in a monogamous culture.
Then over lines 17 and 18, Janice produces the second part of the device (‘but Y’), through
an objection that makes a hearable display about the cultural and moral significance of
incest (Sacks 1992). She says, ‘OH FAMILY,’ (line 17) and then produces another
evaluation and question ‘>that’s .HHH (.)clearly not right is(he)it(he).<.’ The final part of
the turn includes laughter particles, which suggest that she is trying to diminish the
potential for moral sanction. Her oblique reference to incest, through the production of
‘family,’ and ‘culture’ (line 19), provides an explanation for why she didn’t tell Jimmy, i.e.,
culture tells you what is right or wrong. So, in effect she is blaming culture for the content
of the dream being transgressive, which provides the justification for distancing herself
from the potential charge of incest, not because she perceives it to be a problem but
because culture does.
Through this work, Janice invokes a general cultural rule on two levels. Firstly, it orients
towards the incestuous character of the dream. Secondly, it relates to the attributes of the
category ‘spouse,’ but in the waking world. So, she mobilises the collection ‘family, and
153
the CBA is attached to the category ‘spouse’ as well as ‘female/male,’ ‘siblings’ in the
dream. Finally, our co-produced laughter (lines 17-18) in overlap project back to Janice’s
original downgrading of the significance of this dream. It also shifts my identity as IR back
to a more formal footing. Given that she is talking about a dream, Janice could have just
“fold[ed] her cards and go[ne] home” (Hilbert 2010: 49), by saying ‘it’s only a dream’ or
something to that effect. However, the overall interactional work led on from my initial
question, so Janice’s attempt to answer it resulted in her mounting a complex and
nuanced account about the events in the dream and how they relate to the cultural rules
in the waking world. Even though this is the telling of a dream, the only tools available for
producing, negotiating, challenging, and reconstructing versions of events are to be found
in talk, and talk about dreams is no different. Given that we might not anticipate that talk
about dreams will be sanctioned because they are dreams, it is interesting that dream
tellers work to make recognisable displays that their dreamt actions do not reflect
themselves (as waking agents). This could be a hangover from the populism of Freud, but
it is more likely to be because these methods are so embedded in the way we talk about
anything remotely problematic. As noted by Wooffitt (1991, 1992), talk about
parapsychological phenomena, or seeing UFOs, for example, has a routinised character in
that the talk is organised to display the facticity of events being described and the
normalcy of the person who produces the description. We see the similar work in my
data.
So far in this chapter, I have shown that talk about dreams, like other kinds of talk, is
constituted through “highly generalised, systematic and institutionalised ways of talking
and interacting” (Heritage 1984b: 267), which are revealed through the “competences
that ordinary speakers rely on when participating in intelligible organised social
154
interaction” (Heritage and Atkinson 1984:2). In terms of the categorial work, Janice has
invoked the MCD ‘family’ and ‘gender’ and as with the other extracts, the IE and IR accept
incumbency of the MCD ‘research device,’ through the question-and-answer sequences
(Whitehead and Baldry 2018). So far, I have shown that the ‘I was dreaming of doing X
but Y’ two-part contrast device has been used by participants to account for a dream and
to deflect responsibility for dreamt actions by invoking blamings, denials, evaluations and
objections that orient towards the waking moral and cultural order that is shared by the
IR and IEs. This shows that even though the talk is about dreams, it is not possible to take
time out from that order (Jayyusi 1984).
In the following extract, Georgina accounts for a dream that also uses the ‘I was dreaming
of doing X but Y’ method, but on this occasion, it is in the form of a denial.
Extract 5.5: DD:4: Georgina
1. L: okay (.) so we’re now reco::rding thank you
2. very much for agreeing to take part I’m just
3. gonna ask you a few things about your dreams=
4. G: =okay
5. L: okay uhm(.)n I’ll start by asking
6. d’you ever have any dreams that you rememba=
7. G: =yes but I don’t (0.3) remember the::m .hhh
8. al::way::sss a >long time after I’ve had
9. the::m< I will remember them eh when I wake
10. u:p.(.)=
11. L: =yeah
12. G: an then I wr- I’ve been trying to write
13. them down.=
14. L: =Oh[ri::ght]
15. G: [cs theyr]e so::: bizarre [.hhh t]hey’re=
16. L: [ right]
17. G: =so(.)fri(he)ghteningly bizarre=
18. L: =right okay (.) cn you explain what you mean
19. by that by giving me en exa::mple
20. G: what bizarre.=
21. L: =ye::ah
22. G: OH I >re- do remember one instance where I
23. was eh there was a baby in the middle of the
24. ro::ad< en I was running over it backwards
155
25. and forwards in a [truck (.) and that is=]
26. L: [eh oh ri::ght. .hh o]kay
27. G: =so:: not me:: (.)er:m I e- um iss just so
28. [NOT ME.]
29. L: [yeah ye]ah
Following my opening question about whether Georgina has any dreams that she
remembers (lines 5-6), she produces an account about not being able to remember them
and so trying to write them down (lines 7-13). Georgina describes a dream in which,
‘there was a baby in the middle of the road,’ ‘en I was running over it’ ‘backwards and
forwards in a truck’ (lines 23-25), which invokes the first part of the contrast device (‘I
was dreaming of doing X’). Over lines 25-27, Georgina invokes the second part of the
device, ‘that is so:: not me::’ (‘but Y’), which is repeated and amplified, ‘so NOT ME’ (lines
27-28) to mark her strong resistance to take up incumbency of the category ‘baby killer.’
This also constitutes a downgrade and stake inoculation (Potter 1996) that appeals for
me to hear her that way (Sacks 1992). My repeated agreement token ‘yeah yeah’ (line 29)
displays my continuing recipientship (Schegloff 1996: 171) and demonstrates that I have
accepted Georgina’s denial and re-presentation of self. If it were an account about having
done this in the waking world it would most likely be met with a response of shock, alarm,
anger, or some other action. So, although my response does suggest a degree of surprise,
it is more muted than might be the case if it were a description of a waking action.
Nonetheless, because the category bound activity is morally reprehensible, Georgina uses
the same methods that might be drawn upon to describe involvement in a waking event
of this kind. Furthermore, whilst acknowledging the troublesome imagery/action, my
response only mildly registers the ethical concern. Given this, we might anticipate that it
is not necessary to use this kind of rhetorical work for the telling of dreams, yet it is a
routinised pattern in the dream data.
156
In the following extract, which occurs later in the interview, Georgina describes a dream
in which she must kill dogs to get a job and the second part of the contrast structure is
produced as an evaluation/objection to her dreamt actions.
Extract 5.6: DD:4: Georgina
((lines 1-31 omitted))
32. G: =so:: (.) e::rm >an I was bitten by an Alsation en in
33. the< (.) SECond dre::am I i- I was looking for a jo:b
34. an in order to get a [job] I had to kill two[dogs o]ne=
35. L: [yeah] [right]
36. G: =was a Po::[odle]. (.) .hh >which I think I [ran o]ver<=
37. L: [yeah] [righ]t
38. G: =en the other one was an Alsation an I stuck my fi::ngers
39. up its no:se. >an held its mouth shut< .hhh >an I walked
40. into the river with it an held it [under wate]r.=
41. L: [right yeah]
42. L: yeah so trying a ki- oh yeah
43. G: an I mean I’ve grew up on a fa::rm an that’s not
44. G: (he)not the way to t[reat animals] y’know
Georgina sets up the account over lines 33-34, that in order to get a job she had to kill two
dogs. This information is receipted by me at line 37 with two overlapping agreement
tokens, ‘yeah’ and an upwardly intoned ‘right,’ which signals a degree of surprise but
once again not overly so. This makes a display that this is unusual but keeps it contained
so as not to appear judgemental. Furthermore, she is telling this against a background of
having told me she has ‘frighteningly bizarre’ dreams, which authorises the version
(Smith 1978), see extract 5.5, above. We see similar work with Julienne who describes
have ‘weird,’ ‘wacky’ and ‘disconcerting’ dreams (chapter 6, extract 6.5), and Isabel, who
describes having ‘horrific’ dreams (see extract 5.9), for example. In effect, this works to
pre-empt how I should hear their dreams, which may be why my agreement tokens are
muted, but I may also be ‘doing neutral’ as IR.
157
Georgina then describes one dog being a Poodle that she thinks she ran over and the other
was an Alsatian that she drowned by sticking her fingers up its nose and holding it under
water, which invokes the first part of the ‘dreaming of doing X’ device (lines 17-21). I
receipt the account about the Poodle in overlap, again with two acknowledgement tokens
‘yeah,’ and an upwardly intoned, ‘right’ (line 18), which also displays a degree of
surprise. The second part of the contrast device (‘but Y’), is invoked over lines 24-25, ‘an
I mean I’ve grew up on a fa::rm an that’s not (he)not the way to treat animals y’know’.
The activity, in the dream, of killing dogs to get a job is evaluated and articulated by
orienting to what is being presented as a commonsense rule of our shared cultural world,
i.e., that we do not drown dogs or run them over (although there may be cases where this
happens). If we compare this with Georgina’s dream about lesbianism, she is using the
rule here in a different way. While she is explicit that killing dogs is a moral concern, she
does not say it is wrong to be a lesbian, but that the rule does not apply to her because
she does not class herself as one. This is ethnomethodologically significant because by
producing the account in this way, Georgina is demonstrating her competence as a
morally upstanding member of the waking world who both understands the rules and
knows the moral implications associated with breaching them. So, in sum, she is also
doing being normal, in a comparable way to the participants in the earlier extracts.
Furthermore, she is also using the DMI by evaluating a specific action in relation to a
general rule.
A final point to note in relation to the second part of the two-part contrast device, is that
it is positioned after the description of a dream. So, in effect, it is the concluding comment
which provides the moral of the story. Wooffitt’s contrast device, ‘I was doing X when Y,’
158
prior to accounts about anomalous events. As such, it is an opener that sets up a slot to
be filled with something worth remarking on. It this respect, it makes a display that what
is about to come is tellable (Bergmann and Perakyla 2012, Perakyla and Bergmann 2020),
so it can be seen as a way of engaging co-recipiency. Contrastively, the ‘I was dreaming of
doing X but Y’ device works as a closure. In effect it is way of saying, there is nothing
remarkable going on here, which functions to distance the waking self from the events in
the dream. It is the equivalent of saying, it is just a dream, so now we can “pack up our
cards and go home” (Hilbert 2010: 49).
5.3. Category out of Bounds Activities (COBAs)
Having analysed the ‘I was dreaming of doing X but Y’ contrast structure, I now move on
to demonstrate the use of what I refer to as category out of bounds activities (COBAs).
These are a modified version of Sacks’ CBAs, and rhetorically packaged to do similar
morally and culturally related identity work as seen in the foregoing analysis. Sacks
(1992) demonstrated the use of category bound activities in a detailed analysis from the
first two lines of a child’s story ‘the baby cried the mommy [sic] picked it up’. He argued
that “any person who is a case of a category is seen as a member of a category, and what’s
known about that category is known about them, and the fate of each is bound up in the
fate of the other” (Sacks 1979: 13). Membership categories and members activities are
bound together by the predicates, attendant rights, attributes, and obligations associated
with the category (Sacks 1992). In the previous section, I highlighted the ‘I was dreaming
of doing X but Y’ device, which was invoked by tellers to defer responsibility and
accountability for some of the activities they were performing within a dream. So, the
activity in the dream was not perceived to be appropriate for the category, for example,
sisters should not fancy their brothers. Thus, the attributes that might normatively be
159
associated with incumbency of a category were constituted as being morally, culturally,
and ontologically out of bounds for the dreamer. I propose that because dreaming and
waking actions occur in ontologically discrete settings, dreamt actions could be perceived
as being category out of bounds activities (COBAs). This is demonstrated through the use
of boundary work that tellers construct to demarcate these ontological experiences,
which, as we will see, warrants their non-membership of the category through claims of
incompatibility (Widdicombe 2017).
Although Thomas Gieryn’s (1983) work was concerned with demarcations between
scientific and non-scientific fields of knowledge, he developed the concept of ‘boundary
work’ as an ideological style that can be observed in scientists’ attempts to create a public
image for science. This is done by contrasting science favourably in relation to non-
scientific activities. Gieryn (1983) argued that alternative sets of characteristics can be
made available for making attributions to authorise such claims (science as theoretical,
empirical, applied, and so on). He concluded that science is not a single entity but
ambiguous and flexible because its boundaries have been drawn and redrawn historically
and contextually. As we saw in chapter two, dreams have also been described as
ontologically and epistemologically contested phenomena (Sacks 1992, Fine and Fischer
Leighton 1993, Vester 1993, Wagner-Pacifici and Bershady 1993, Nell 2014, Hilbert 2010,
Williams, 2002, 2005, 2011, Bergmann and Perakyla 2014, Perakyla and Bergmann 2020,
Bardina 2020). So, they can also be perceived as having a similar kind of flexibility
because there is no consensus about their meanings, functions or uses, either historically
or in different socio-cultural contexts.
160
Moreover, as we have seen in some of the empirical work that is produced to talk about
dreams, the construction of self in dream telling settings is also ambiguous and flexible.
In the analysis above, I showed that participants used the ‘I was dreaming of X but Y’
device to display a distinction between their understandings of morality and culture,
relative to their waking and dreaming selves. By using the device, participants made
culture accountable for the content of a dream by orienting towards a general rule
relating to cultural norms, to protect their stakes and interests in the interview setting.
In doing so, they displayed their perceptions about the wrongness of the activities that
had occurred in the dream, by denying, justifying, evaluating, blaming, and so on. As we
will see in the forthcoming analysis, when using COBAs, explanations about why a dreamt
action is wrong are invoked more explicitly. So, participants do not deny, justify, evaluate,
and so on, but straightforwardly make it clear that the content is a problem.
In the following account, Ollie constructs the boundary between the waking and
dreaming world by explicitly mentioning the obviousness that the activity of the reporter
in a dream about a news report is out of bounds with the normative socio-cultural
expectations about how news reporters should behave. Through this work, Ollie
demonstrates his commonsense, practical understanding about the moral
implicativeness of the CBA.
Extract: 5.7: DD:14: Ollie
1. L: e::rm >d’yu ever dream when you’re ill.<= (.)
2. O: =m’yeah (.) re::ally wei[rd (].) dreams=
3. L: [okay]
4. L: okay (.)in what wa:y cn you (.) kinda remember
5. any:: [o::r ].h not.=
6. O: [e::rm]
7. O: e::rm er >yeah once when I was si::ck<
8. (0.4) I (.) >cus my stomach must’ve been hurtin<
9. I had a dre:am .hh that (.) erm (0.3) that I was part
10. of ne::ws report .h an then as part of the news report
161
11. the reporter startid cutting me (.).hh like w- with a
12. cha::insaw on my stomach (0.4) en I woke up an
13. obviously it wasn’t [happen]ing=
14. L: [right]
At line 1, I ask Ollie whether he has dreams when he is ill, which he receipts at line two
with an agreement token and a description of the quality of his dreams as ‘really weird’
(line 2). The use of the ECF provides the warrant for both the description and the facticity
of the types of dreams he has when he is ill. Over lines 7- 13, he produces an account in
which he is part of a news report, during which the reporter starts cutting his stomach
with a chainsaw. At line 12 and 13, he unties himself from the dreamt action through an
evaluation that he woke up and ‘obviously’ it wasn’t happening. So, as with Nigel’s
account below, he displays his understanding that the action was out of bounds with the
category, relative to his understanding of the kinds of activities a news reporter might
ordinarily undertake during a news report.
Furthermore, as the dream is morally implicative, Ollie displays his cultural competency
by using the term ‘obviously,’ and in doing so he accomplishes the untying of the waking
and dreamt actions through claims of incompatibility (Widdicombe 2017). As we saw
above, Georgina also used the term ‘obviously’ to distance her waking self from the
dreamt activity of being a lesbian. In contrast, Ollie uses the term ‘obviously’ to
distinguish the action in the dream from the attributes of the category ‘news reporter,’ in
the waking world. So, the COBA works in reverse to the ‘I was dreaming of doing X but Y’
contrast device. Georgina uses the X/Y device, in effect, to say that she is not a lesbian,
whereas Ollie uses the COBA to say that is not the way a news reporter would normatively
behave. Thus, the X/Y device distinguishes a specific action from a general category as
applied to the waking self, whereas a COBA is used to make it explicit that the attributes
162
of a general category in the waking world do not apply to the specific action in the dream.
This suggests that although we do attach categories to actions and actions to categories,
there are circumstances and situations where we may make exceptions. As I discussed in
chapter three, the use of categories is contextual, so analysts need to be sensitive to the
specificities of the context.
Furthermore, as with the analysis in the previous section, Ollie appeals to the rules
relating to commonsense understandings about how news reporters behave in a news
report. So, in addition to the COBA, the account does similar work relative to
representations of self in both the dreaming and waking worlds. Finally, with respect to
the categorial work, the use of membership categories is mutually elaborative because
categories relate to types of people, and types of people are tied to types of activities
(Sacks 1992). So, Ollie’s use of the term ‘obviously,’ provides the warrant for my
agreement, which is demonstrated by my acceptance of the obviousness (line 14) that
news reporters don’t use a chainsaw on the people they are collaborating with in a news
report. Finally, by invoking his identity as someone who has ‘really weird dreams’ when
he is ill, Ollie does similar rhetorical work with respect to the quality of his dreams as TJ
and Isabel who described having ‘horrific’ dreams, and Georgina who described having
‘frighteningly bizarre’ dreams. In this respect, we can begin to see the relationship
between the way people in two different interactional contexts offer assessments relating
to the quality of their dreams. This brings the datasets together through the analysis,
which shows how participants in two interview settings make a recognisable display of
the contrasts between their waking and dreaming selves, relative to identity, morality,
and culture.
163
In the following extract, Nigel does similar work. He constructs the boundary through his
repeated mentions that other people in the dream are having ‘no problem’ with his out of
the ordinary actions in a public setting. Through this reflexive and indexical work, he
foregrounds his own competence as someone who recognises that his dreamt actions are
unacceptable and thereby downgrades the competencies of other people in the dream.
Extract 5.8: DD15: Nigel
1. L: okay it’s recording now(.).hhh can you tell me
2. e::rm about your dreams.=
3. N: =right e::rm (.) yes I had this dre::am (.) e:::rm (0.3)
4. pt .hhh >I can’t remember how it began okay< but e:rm
5. e:::rm the bit I rememba (.) right (.)((sniffs))I was at
6. tai chi err a tai ch- ky’know er chi kung at La::m’s
7. place .hhh cept I don’t think it was qui::te Lam’s place
8. >but anyway< I was the::re .h a:nd(.)e HHHkhehehe
9. .hhhs >£it was something to do with him< mo:::ving£ right
10. eh y’know ees goin to America an all this .hhhss a::nd
11. erm HHHhhh hhh(he)some(he)how(he)hhh I had a bunch of his
12. stu::ff an it ws like (.)I dunno sem .hh MAGazi::nes
13. or books or something like that in my underpants haha=
14. L: [ri::ght ]
15. S: [=ri(haha)]ght(he).hhh he .HHHHH an I said to em eh
16. Something e::r eh y’know >I can’t remember exactly<(.)
17. hhh I noticed that I(he)had these things en I sa- saw I don’thh
18. know how (he)they got the::re .hh but I took off my underpants
19. ta give him his stuff alright. En this was e- eh y’know
20. entirely he he sort of .hhhh acceptable there was °no
21. (.) problem with this° (.) .hh so then I was doi::ng the
22. rest of the cl::ass an I go- I >dunno if we were we-
23. doing chi kung< or the swo:rd or what. e::m er with with
24. no trousers or or underwear on >I had a shirt on< en
25. em My shirttails were .hh(hehe)covering the pa::rts .hh
26. there was no .hhs y’know >there were lots of other people
27. there< th- the there was no (.) problem with this (.)
Following my request for Nigel to tell me about his dreams (1-2), he accounts for a dream
about being in a ‘tai chi class at Lam’s place’ (lines 6-7). At line 11, he produces laughter
through pulsed out-breaths (Hepburn and Varney 2013), within and surrounding the
word ‘somehow,’ indicating that something has happened in the dream that he is making
a display of being funny. Nigel is not just preparing the scene, as the forthcoming telling
164
of a dream has been set up in line 3, so there is something else at stake in the account.
Over lines 11-13, the reason for this is made apparent, Nigel produces a three-part list
with a generalised list completer (Jefferson 1990) to account for the way the dream has
been set up. He says had: ‘bunch of stuff,’ which includes ‘magazines,’ ‘or books,’ ‘or
something’ in his underpants (line 12-13). The ‘bunch of stuff’ belongs to the teacher of
the tai chi class who is moving to America (lines 9-10). I receipt his description of the
dream with a stretched acknowledgement token ‘ri::ght,’ that is produced with upward
intonation and may be associated with enactments of ‘surprise’ (Wilkinson and Kitzinger
2006). In this instance it can be heard as such because it orients towards the delicateness
of the topic (Widdicombe 2017, Robles 2019). Tracey and Robles (2010:177), propose
that interactional troubles, such as the above, may arise because of a researchers’
position, relative to the institution they are affiliated with, its mission and other kinds of
ethical concerns. They define trouble “as a perceived snag in the fabric of an interview
moment”, that will be observable and reportable in the talk and can be seen through
hesitation, repairs, and so on. Moreover, it is more generally the case that genitalia are
kept in underpants, so by having a bunch of the tai chi teacher’s stuff in his pants, Nigel’s
dreamt action goes against the normative actions of a student in a tai chi class, in the
waking world. It is thus categorially out of bounds with the attributes of tai chi students,
which is displayed by Nigel as being incompatible (Widdicombe 2017). Furthermore, as
we will see, Nigel displays some discomfort in his retreat.
Following this, in overlap Nigel also utters ‘rihehegh]t(he)’ (that can be heard as right),
which is invoked as a laughter loaded receipt that affirms the moral implicativeness of
the account (Jefferson 2004, Clift 2016). So even though I have not responded with
laughter, Nigel is still treating this as a humorous event. As Jefferson (2004b) has shown,
165
it is more likely that females will respond to male laughter with receipt laughter than the
other way round, although there may be exceptions. In this instance, my lack of ‘laughter
receptiveness’ (Jefferson 2004b) might not necessarily imply that I do not find the dream
amusing, but that my role as IE warrants interactional management relating to both the
content and also what constitutes appropriate behaviour for research interviewers
(Tracey and Robles 2010). Furthermore, my stretched ‘right’ is like the receipt I uttered
after Janice described that she dreamt of fancying her brother, so it may be that I am
orienting towards the expectation that I maintain a sense of professionalism.
Alternatively, it may that due to the gender differences, as Nigel is male.
Following the production of the laugh loaded utterance, Nigel invokes a “post laughter
pre-speech in-breath” (Jefferson 2004b:121) in preparation for further talk, so the in
breath does not constitute a gap as such although it can be treated as a ‘response
opportunity place’ (Jefferson 2004b). However, for the remainder of the interaction, I
drop out. Nigel begins to mount a retreat which starts by mobilising a ‘sort of’ that he
doesn’t know how the stuff got into his underpants but somehow it did, nonetheless, he
took them off and gave the stuff to Lam which was entirely ‘sort of acceptable’ and there
was ‘no problem with this’ (lines 17-21).
Nigel’s assessment that ‘there was no problem with this’ (lines 20-21), is initally
produced as breathy (Jefferson 2004a), or quieter than the surrounding talk (Hepburn
and Bolden 2013), and is then repeated (line 27). The repetition and the way it is
formulated is critical for hearing the inferential work here. What Nigel is effectively
saying is that he is the only person in the dream who knows that this type of behaviour is
inappropriate for members of a tai chi class. The upshot of recognising the cultural and
166
moral implications of his actions is that Nigel accounts for his moral competencies both
within the interview and within the dream. So by retelling of this dream in this particular
way, he is representing his normalcy as a ‘witness’ to the events as they were unfolding
in the dream, and as a ‘narrator’ in the situated interview context (Bergmann and
Perakyla 2014, Perakyla and Bergmann 2020). So, unlike the contrast devices
demonstrated above, whereby a normative identity is reconstructed by objecting,
resisting, denying, blaming and evaluating accountability for dreamt events, he is not
reconstructing his identity through these rhetorical moves, as it was never in question.
Thus, for Nigel these activities were never ‘in bounds.’ Indeed, he was explicit that he was
not morally tied to the activities because in his representation of the dream he could see
a problem that nobody else could. Through this boundary work, Nigel displays the
ontological dichotomy as a COBA, because it is normatively, socially and morally out of
bounds with his representation of self in the waking world. In this respect he is
accounting for a ‘reality disjuncture’, wherein contradictory versions of reality are being
presented (Pollner 1987). In the following chapter, I return to this extract to show that
Nigel invokes a second COBA, and I examine how he uses stance practices to
interactionally manage these taboo topics.
In the following extract, Chloe does similar work by using a COBA, in relation to a dream
about her mother throwing salt onto her partner, Isabel’s, raw skin. Throughout the
extract, the quality the content of the dream is negotiated and co-produced between the
three of us.
Extract 5.9: DD:2: Chloe and Isabel
1. C: like >you dreamt the other da::y that< .h you had like
2. a::ll (.) your ski::n shaved off didn’t you. en an my mum
3. was thr[owing s]a:lt at you. .hhh in your open wou::nds=
167
4. I: [.hhheheh]
5. I: =like I had no no all my s[kin wa]s like=(.)
6. L: [oooh ]
7. L: that’s a bit vivid
8. C: =yeah that’s what they’re al- always like like really
9. like .h[hhh (.)] he (.)
10. I: [hhhorri]ble=
11. L: [any ot]her exa::mples.
12. I: =yeah so like Chloe’s mum was throwing]salt at me::
13. ((sniffs)) en so like onto my RA::W skin=
14. C: (he)throwin salt in the wounds HHhehe(he)wasn’t it.=
((giggles))
15. I: yeah literally .hhh=
16. (((all laughing))
17. I: = mmm but yea::h e::r eh my dreams probly are quite cli::ché
Over lines 1-3, Chloe invokes a COBA when recounting a recent dream that Isabel had, in
which Isabel has all her skin shaved off and Chloe’s mum was throwing salt into the open
wounds. It constitutes a COBA, because not only is it unlikely that someone would have
all their skin shaved off, but it is also even more unlikely that their partner’s mother
would be throwing salt into the open wounds. So, the action is out of bounds with the way
partner’s mothers are normatively expected to behave, which constitutes a breach to
cultural norms. At line 4, Isabel receipts the description with an in-breath and laughter
particles, signalling that she is treating the account as humorous at this stage. At line 5,
Isabel produces an ‘elliptical account’ (Stokoe 2018), whereby the final part is missing
but can nonetheless, be heard as an agreement that in the dream, her skin was as Chloe
had described it. In overlap (line 6), I produce a change of ‘state’/’surprise’ token with
upward rising intonation ‘oooh,’ signalling my recognition of the moral implications of
the description (Heritage 1984, Wilkinson and Kitzinger 2006). At line 7, I explicitly
acknowledge the description as ‘vivid,’ which further displays how I am treating the
telling of this dream. After this, Chloe produces an agreement token ‘yeah,’ in response to
my comment and an account about Isabel’s dreams, ‘always’ being ‘really like’ this, which
points to, not only the extreme character of this particular dream, but also that this is the
168
type of dream Isabel recurrently has (line 8-9). At line 10, Isabel characterises them as
‘horrible’ and in doing so, she finishes Chloe’s turn, in overlap. So, we are collaboratively
working up, not only the telling of this dream, but affirming that it is indicative of Isabel’s
dreams in general.
Isabel then produces a further description that Chloe’s mum was throwing salt onto her
‘raw skin,’ the production of ‘raw’ is stretched and louder than the surrounding talk and
‘skin’ is emphasised, thus further extrematising the horrible nature of the dream (lines
12-13). However, at line 14, Chloe respecifies the content, but her account is topped and
tailed with aspiration and higher pitched laughter particles (Hepburn and Varney 2013)
signalling that she is treating the dream as funny, which downgrades the significance of
the category out of bounds activity of your partner’s mum throwing salt onto your raw,
shaved skin. This is receipted by Isabel, at line 15, with an agreement token ‘yeah,’ and
extreme case formulation ‘literally,’ which is an attempt to upgrade the characterisation
of the dream as horrible. However, after this we produce collective laughter (line 16),
following which Isabel downgrades the significance of her dreams more generally, by
referring to them as being quite cliché. In effect, she is now in agreement with Chloe, even
though the dream is about being abused by her partner’s mum, which further
consolidates its unlikeliness. With respect to the categorial work, as we saw above, in
relation to the ‘pink dress’ dream, Chloe and Isabel are doing ‘coupling,’ as
partner/partner. They also produce their identities in relation to the membership
collections, ‘family,’ ‘stage of life,’ and ‘gender.’ Furthermore, our respective identities as
IR/IEs are invoked through the question-and-answer adjacency pair sequences. So, as
with Ollie and Nigel, the events are out of bounds relative to these types of actions
occurring in the waking world, as it is not mum-like to behave in this way, even if it is a
169
partner’s mum who is acting in this way. A final point to note, is that in Ollie and Nigel’s
descriptions the COBA is produced at the end of the telling of the dream (as we will see
in the following chapter this also applies to Nigel’s production of a second COBA),
whereas Chloe produced it at the beginning of the account. So, it might be worth exploring
this further to see the extent to which the positioning of COBAs may vary.
In this section, I have demonstrated the use of COBAs, in relation to having your stomach
chain-sawed by a news reporter, having your partner’s mother abuse you by throwing
salt into open wounds, and acting inappropriately in a tai chi class. In each of these
accounts, the unlikelihood of these category activities happening in the waking world was
made accountable by their ‘obviousness,’ ‘unlikeliness’ and being ‘not a problem’. In this
respect, as with the ‘I was doing X cos Y’ and the ‘I was dreaming of doing X but Y’ devices,
participants produced their accounts based on an evaluation that oriented towards a
commonsense rule about what constitutes morally acceptable behaviour in the shared
waking world of the IRs and IEs. Because such actions have a moral accountability, the
participants invoked an evaluation about the moral, practical, and rational
implicativeness of these events, as not only do they point to the “moral features of
category concepts, but they also provide for making sense of the moral accountability of
certain actions” (Jayyusi 1991: 240). In this respect, their meanings are at odds with the
cultural norms in the shared waking world between the IR and IEs, hence they are
morally, culturally, and logically out of bounds. Having demonstrated how the use of
contrast structures, including the ‘I was doing X cos Y’ device, the ‘I was dreaming of doing
X but Y’ device, and COBAs have been used by participants in the datasets to either align
themselves with an activity or disassociate themselves from them, I now conclude the
chapter.
170
5.4. Summary In this chapter I have identified, and demonstrated, two types of contrast structures that
were used to account for dreamt events. Participants used the ‘I was dreaming of doing X
but Y’ contrast structure to display their normalcy, and deflect accountability for the
dreamt content, by invoking blamings, denials, evaluations, and objections. With respect
to the second method, participants invoked COBAs, that made the illogical character of
the dreams explicit relative to the category attributes for members of specific collections
in the waking world. In using these methods, they displayed their commonsense
understandings about what constitutes acceptable behaviour in the shared waking world,
with the IRs. By adopting an applied CA/MCA approach to analyse the data, I have shown
how, through the local sequential and categorial work, a world shared in common was
invoked and accomplished through the reflexive, indexical, and intersubjective work of
both parties to the talk.
Subsequently, the categorial relevancies for both parties were displayed in relation to
identity, morality and culture. This was the case with respect to the associated rights and
expectations for IRs and IEs in an interview, and also for participants in relation to the
content of their dreams. So in terms of the the thesis aims, I have demonstrated two
additional methods, the ‘I was dreaming of doing X but Y’ device and COBAs, both of which
are used to represent the problem with dream content when it contrasts with the taken
for granted, normative expectations of the everyday cultural order. Furthermore, as we
saw above, the X/Y device distinguishes a specific action from a general category that was
applied to the waking self, whereas COBAs were used to make it explicit that the
attributes of a general category in the waking world do not apply to the specific actions
in the described dreams. This suggests that although we do attach categories to actions
171
and actions to categories, but there are circumstances and situations where we may make
exceptions. As I discussed in chapter three, the use of categories is contextual, so analysts
need to be sensitive to the specificities of the context. Finally, I showed that the X/Y device
was positioned at the end of the accounts and in effect, provides the moral of the story,
whereas COBAs were positioned, at either the beginning, or at the end of the talk about a
dream.
In the following chapter, which is the last of the empirical chapters, I focus on the way
epistemic stance practices, which emerged through the question-and-answer sequences,
were used to manage the interviews. I highlight participants’ moral concerns by
identifying the topics and categories they orient towards in their personal and
institutional capacities. I begin by examining how participants accounting for a specific
dreamt event, shift accountability by using personal pronouns to move the focus from self
to a generalised other, person or object. I then examine the production of knowledge
claims through which IEs invoke their equal status to the IR by producing talk about
dream theories. In the final section, I focus on the stance making and taking practices
between the IR and IE and show how they are used to take up, resist and reclaim control
over setting and topic.
172
Chapter Six: Using stance practices to manage identity
6.1. Introduction
In the previous chapter, I demonstrated two types of contrast structures that were used
to inoculate against the potential for undesired responses when dream content was
morally implicative, and to downgrade the significance of dream content that is taken to
breach cultural norms. In most extracts, participants produced evaluations by applying a
general cultural rule to the specific events within the dreams, which showed their
commonsense understandings about those actions. By using the ‘I was dreaming of doing
X but Y’ contrast structure, participants displayed their normalcy and deflected
accountability for the dreamt content. This was accomplished by invoking blamings,
denials, evaluations, and objections. Category out of bounds activities (COBAs) were used
by participants to display their perceptions of dream content that breaches cultural
norms by orienting towards the normative behaviour for members of specific
membership categories. In effect, participants were doing being normal. By adopting an
applied CA/MCA approach to the analysis, I showed how grounding the analysis in the
data can uncover the reflexive, indexical and intersubjective work of both parties to the
talk, through which they co-produced a world shared in common. A fundamental concern
for both IEs and IR was the management of identity, in situ, relative to morality and
culture.
In this chapter, I continue to focus on the reflexive, indexical and intersubjective work
that is co-produced by IRs and IEs in the situated interview contexts. As I argued in
chapter three, when IEs and IRs interact in research interviews, they do so through
question-and-answer sequences, and this process should be seen as a product of situated
interaction through which co-participants to the interaction may respond either in a
173
“personal” or “institutional” capacity (Potter and Hepburn (2012: 564). Potter and
Hepburn argue that it is important to attend to the orientation of the talk to avoid
misrepresenting the data and drawing misleading inferences from it. My concern in this
chapter is to demonstrate when IRs and IEs are talking in either personal and
institutional capacities by focussing on the ongoing concerns that emerge through the
question and answer process and by examining what they attend to and what they
“demonstrably orient towards as relevant” in the talk (Schegloff 1999b: 579). To this end,
I focus on stance-making and stance-taking practices, relative to footing shifts. I begin by
examining how participants accounting for a specific dreamt event shift accountability by
using personal pronouns to move the focus from self to a generalised other, person, or
object. In the second section, I examine the production of knowledge claims that orient
towards a morality of knowledge (Stivers et al 2011) and in the final section, I focus on
how a participant from the sleep data uses stance practices to take the floor and resist
the IR’s attempts to reclaim it. By demonstrating how IEs ‘do resistance,’ ‘do knowledge
claims’ and ‘do accountability shifts,’ through stance-taking and stance-making practices,
the analysis shows how both IRs and IEs negotiate control of topic and floor through
question-and-answer sequences. It also shows that they invoke categories that orient
towards their identities in the local, institutional setting and their identities in the social
worlds outside of the setting, which is reflected in the content of their dreams. This
emerges in the interviews through an ongoing concern with morality and identity in
relation to cultural rules about what does and does not constitute normatively acceptable
behaviour in the waking world.
174
6.2. Using stance to shift accountability for dreamt actions
As Lampropoulou and Myers (2013) argue, focusing on stance is particularly useful for
analysis of research interviews, because participants are recruited on the basis of what
they know about particular issues and will be asked to provide their views, or evaluate
their experiences and in doing so, they adopt a stance towards an issue. Furthermore, the
interviewers’ talk is also worthy of attention because their turns can display different
stances towards the prior turn (Lampropoulou and Myers 2013, Rossi and Stivers, 2020).
For example, in chapter five, towards the end of the interview with Justin, the IR displayed
enthusiasm towards the account by claiming that ‘the (interview) was interesting and
that it was really, really useful chatting to him.’ By producing his evaluation of the
interview and expressing his gratitude in this way, the IR adopted a stance. This revealed
his stakes and investment in the talk, which contrasts with the kind of neutrality and
disinterestedness that the ‘how to’ literature suggests qualitative researchers should
adopt (Rapley 2001, 2002, 2015, Heritage 2002, Potter and Hepburn 2012).
Lampropoulou and Myers (2013: 5) argue that in much of the literature on stance, the
focus has been on linguistic markers such as “verbs of cognition or perception,” for
example, ‘I think,’ ‘I see,’ or adverbials, such as ‘absolutely’ and ‘possibly,’ and stance
nouns, for instance, ‘in my opinion.’ Dubois (2007: 11) proposes that the focus of stance
research should not be about these linguistic markers, but more to do with the way
parties to an interaction position themselves towards a topic. According to Dubois, to
examine stance, analysts need to identify who the stance-taker is, what the object of the
stance is and what the stance-taker is responding to. So, for example, the stance-taker
could be either the IR or the IE. In terms of the stance object, if we compare ‘the Caribbean
was incredible’ and ‘the athletes were incredible,’ the object in each of these examples is
175
‘Caribbean’ and ‘athletes’ (Dubois 2007: 47). Furthermore, the interactional context is
significant for identifying stance moves, so analysts need to consider who people are
talking as with co-present others as this demonstrates their identity work (p, 47). If we
take accounts about dreams as an example, it is necessary to identify whether the teller
is referring to themselves in the dream, or as themselves in the situated interview
context. According to Dubois (2007:148), a fundamental aspect of interpreting a stance
utterance is identifying the object of stance, because this provides the warrant for
analysts’ claims and grounds the analysis in the data. Stance practices can thus be
explored by examining evaluations, alignment, affiliation, disaffiliation, and so on (Stivers
2008, Lampropoulou and Myers 2013, Rossi and Stivers 2020).
Furthermore, as Jayyusi (1991: 243) noted, with respect to questions and answers, by
examining the sequential organisation of talk, we can see the moral order as a reflexively
embedded feature which is grounded in people’s knowledge, so the fact that questions
prefer answers, is a matter of moral and practical consequence. By focusing on the turn-
taking process, the forthcoming analysis attends to these concerns. I begin by
demonstrating how stance can be used to deflect accountability for dreamt actions, even
though responsibility has previously been accepted for an action.
Extract: 6.1: DD:6: Janice
1. L: okay right .hhhh (.) so in terms of when we talkin (.)
2. slightly earlier about .h the kinds of topics you might
3. not talk to o[thers abo ]::ut e::rm=
4. J: [mmm (.) mm]
5. J: =>oh a[ctually I j]ust remembered (.) I rem[embe]r<=
6. L: [what’s that]. [oh ]
7. [OH e:rr >yeah yeah<]
8. J: [=>actually I did have]dre::ams about< my BRO[THER]=
9. L: [AHH]
10. L: =mm [(he)GOODO(ha]haha)
11. J: [fancying my ] brother=
12. L: RI::GHT
176
13. J: =>an I was alwa::ys an I never I don’t thi-< (.) .HH I
14. never we I .hhhh certainly °did ne I don’t thi::nk I
15. necessarily wou- told Jimmy about it° cos I spose I th-
16. I was not (.) asham::ed of it [but] but its kinda that
17. OH FAMILY >that’s .HHH (.)clearly not right [is(he)]it(he).<=
18. L: [hehehe]
19. J: =but y’know o::r or y’know cULTure tells you it’s not
20. .HHH [but I but I can ] remember I did have I did have
21. L: [yeah interesting]
22. J: >dreams about my brother< (.) my older brother.=
23. L: [right]
24. J: [=>ne]ver my younger brother<
25. L: .hh w- sexualised drea[ms. o]::r.=
26. J: [yeah ]
27. L: =yeah
28. J: yeah I don’t thi- anything ac- I don’t think there was
29. anything uh (.) that I can recall anyway that ↑act↑ually
30. happened it was just a it was just again .hh >a sort of
31. fancying< .hhhh=
32. L: yeah
33. J: =I can’t remember any de::tail (.) of it [no::w=]
34. L: [mmm mm ]
35. J: =I don’t think .hhh (.) I actually found myself i::n a
36. J: comprom- a sort of a compromised posit- it was DEFINitely
37. ah of a sexual nature tho:[:ugh] FANcying someone=
38. L: [mmm ]
39. J: =rather than .h (.)=
40. L: ye[ah actually]
41. J: [=actually a]cting it o::ut.=
42. L: [yeah yeah ]
In chapter five, I analysed the first part of this extract to show how Janice used the ‘I was
dreaming of doing X but Y’ device, through which she blamed ‘culture’ for telling you it’s
not right to dream of fancying your brother. By blaming culture, she produced her identity
as normative, that is as somebody who understands what constitutes appropriate familial
relations. I now return to a later part of the account to demonstrate how she invokes a
personal pronoun shift to distance herself from the content of the dream.
Janice affirms that she had dreams about her older brother (line 22), ‘never her younger
brother.’ (line 24). In making the distinction she is inoculating against the potential
charge, not just of incest but also a potential charge of paedophilia. The production of the
177
ECF ‘never,’ can be understood as a defence of her actions in the dream (Pomerantz 1986:
219). At this point Janice is still using the first-person pronoun ‘I’ did X. In the next turn
(line 25), I ask a question about whether the dream was ‘sexualised,’ and the turn includes
hesitancies that mark my trouble with asking the ‘delicate’ question about the taboo
subject of incest (Stokoe 2010, Widdicombe 2017, Robles 2019). Furthermore, by
invoking the category ‘sexualised,’ I am taking a stance because I have interpreted the
dream events as being potentially problematic, while simultaneously registering my
interest in pursuing this topic (Myers and Lampropoulou 2012: 11). After I ask the
question, I offer her an opportunity to provide a disaffiliative, negative response by
invoking what can be heard as another question ‘or’ (not sexualised). However, at line 26,
Janice produces an affiliative agreement token ‘yeah’ in overlap with my question, so she
is still maintaining incumbency for her dreamt action. Over lines 28 - 42, Janice begins to
mount a retreat from her previous stance by providing an account that signals her
commonsense understanding that having ‘sexualised dreams’ about her brother is
problematic. She starts by orienting toward a lack of memory, she doesn’t ‘think
anything’, and she ‘can’t recall now,’ ‘that ACTually happened,’ it was just again a ‘sort of
fancying.’ The emphasis on ‘actually’ and the downgrade to a ‘sort of’ fancying, displays
her renewed stance towards the object/topic. Janice continues by claiming that she ‘can’t
remember the detail of it now’ (line 34). The use of ‘now’ orients to the local setting, i.e.,
in the here and now she is having a problem remembering, even though she has already
been quite explicit about what happened. This demonstrates the context shaping and
context renewing character of the setting (Heritage 1984), as she formulates and then
reformulates her version of events. Furthermore, she then does some back-tracking,
because she doesn’t think she ‘actually’ found herself in a ‘comprom- a sort of a
compromised posit- it was DEFINitely ah of a sexual nature tho:[:ugh],’ (lines 36 -37).
178
Notably, Janice is having trouble formulating this turn. The cut off ‘comprom-‘ is then self-
repaired to ‘sort of compromised,’ and she doesn’t actually produce the ‘ion’ at the end of
‘posit.’ Being in a compromised position is an everyday reference to action, possibly of a
sexual nature, and in this instance, it is of a sexualised nature in relation to her brother.
So, it is Janice’s morality that is being compromised, not only in the dream but in the
telling of a dream she has said she would not tell Jimmy (her husband) in the situated
interview context, and she is having trouble saying this. Nonetheless, she still retains
incumbency of the category as an incestuous sister in the dream, albeit in a less than fully
affiliated way, as it is only a ‘sort of’ doing an ‘action’ and, moreover, one in which she did
not ‘actually compromise’ herself even though it was ‘definitely of a sexual nature.’
Throughout this part of the description, my only contribution is to produce continuers
and agreement tokens (lines 33, 35 and 39), which shows my acceptance of the revised
version. I also adopt a renewed stance, which contrasts with my utterance of ‘goodo,’ (line
10) and makes a display of being a ‘neutral’ IR (Rapley 2001b, Prior 2017). At line 38,
Janice completely distances herself from the action by saying it involved ‘FANcying’ a
generalised ‘someone’ rather than actually acting anything out with her brother.
The upshot is that, by providing this new account, after I have introduced the topic of
sexualised dreams, she unties herself from the described action through the production
of a counter version that is rhetorically designed to play down her identity in relation to
having had a sexualised dream about her brother (Edwards and Potter 1992). This
demonstrates that representations of self can be continuously modified in situ, which
highlights that the production of identity is an ongoing accomplishment (Stokoe and
Attenborough 2015). As mentioned in the previous chapter, I contribute to the way the
account about the dream is produced, thus showing how interviews are co-produced
179
between IEs and IRs. Furthermore, Janice and I were work colleagues at the time of this
interview, so overturning her role in relation to this deviant activity is important, not only
for the interview, but also in relation to our broader working relationship outside of the
setting. As mentioned above and in chapter three, this shows that researchers are not
neutral or disinterested in what IEs talk about, because we have an investment in the talk
as part of our research (Rapley 2015). Therefore, it is important to focus on both IE and
IR turns at talk, because it ties analytical observations to specific elements of the
interviews (Potter and Hepburn 2012). As Roulston (2016) suggests, by scrutinising their
own talk, researchers can learn how they conduct themselves and how knowledge of
social worlds is collaboratively built, which may also help them to develop their practice.
So far, I have shown that talk about dreams, like other kinds of talk, is constituted through
“highly generalised, systematic and institutionalised ways of talking and interacting”
(Heritage 1984b: 267). In the next extract, I continue to focus on the use of a shift from
self to generalised other, which is produced by Nigel to distance himself from the content
of his dream about his actions in a tai chi class.
Extract 6.2: DD15: Nigel 1. L: okay it’s recording now(.).hhh can you tell me
2. e::rm about your dreams.=
3. N: =right e::rm (.) yes I had this dre::am (.) e:::rm (0.3)
4. pt .hhh >I can’t remember how it began okay< but e:rm
5. e:::rm the bit I rememba (.) right (.)((sniffs))I was at
6. tai chi err a tai ch- ky’know er chi kung at La::m’s
7. place .hhh cept I don’t think it was qui::te Lam’s place
8. >but anyway< I was the::re.h a:nd (.) e HHHkhehehe
9. .hhhs >£it was something to do with him< mo:::ving right
10. eh y’know ees goin to America an all this .hhhss a::nd
11. erm HHHhhh .hhh(he)some(he)how .hhh I had a bunch of his
12. stu::ff an it ws like (.)I dunno sem .hh MAGazi::nes
13. or books or something like that in my underpants haha=
14. L: [ri::ght ]
15. S: [=ri(haha)]ght(he).hhh he .HHHHH an I said to em eh
180
16. Something e::r eh y’know >I can’t remember exactly<(.)
17. hhh I noticed that I(he)had these things en I sa- saw I don’thh
18. know how (he)they got the::re .hh but I took off my underpants
19. ta give him his stuff alright. En this was e- eh y’know
20. entirely he he sort of .hhhh acceptable there was °no
21. (.) problem with this° (.) .hh so then I was doi::ng the
22. rest of the cl::ass an I go- I >dunno if we were we-
23. doing chi kung< or the swo:rd or what. e::m er with with
24. no trousers or or underwear on >I had a shirt on< en
25. em My shirttails were .hh(hehe)covering the pa::rts .hh
26. there was no .hhs y’know >there were lots of other people
27. there< th- the there was no (.) problem with this (.)
In the previous chapter, I discussed how Nigel was taking a tai chi or chi kung class (line
6), or sword class (line 23), and he had a bunch of the teacher’s stuff in his underpants
(lines 11-13). He then takes off his ‘underpants’ to give the teacher his ‘stuff’ (line 19) and
continues the class semi-naked. After which he produces an evaluation that neither the
teacher nor anybody else in the class had a problem with his actions (lines 21 and 27-28).
As I argued in the previous chapter, by making the evaluation, Nigel mobilised a COBA to
demonstrate his understanding that the activity in the dream was out of bounds with his
understanding of the category ‘student’ and the associated obligations relating to how
students in tai chi classes are normatively expected to behave and dress. Through this
work, Nigel implicitly invoked a general rule about the appropriateness of what he was
wearing in relation to the specific activity.
As discussed in the last chapter, Nigel produced a COBA to shift accountability for his
dreamt actions by saying there was ‘no problem’ with being in a tai chi class with the
teacher’s ‘stuff’ in his underpants. I now show that Nigel produces a second COBA by
using a personal pronoun shift. Over lines 21-24, Nigel uses the first-person pronoun ‘I’
to describe how he was doing the rest of the class with no trousers or underwear on.
However, he is wearing a shirt and refers to ‘my’ shirt tails as covering ‘the parts,’ i.e., his
181
genitalia (lines 25-26). At this point, Nigel is still maintaining incumbency for his actions
in the dream, although he has demonstrated that the action is out of bounds with the
category ‘student’ and standard relational pair ‘student/teacher.’ By describing his
genitalia as ‘the parts,’ rather than ‘my parts,’ Nigel makes a rhetorical move from a
description relating to a part of his body to a generalised object. This works to distance
himself from his dreamt actions and objectifies his genitalia. This displays his normalcy
in the situated, waking context, which works in the same way as Janice’s shift from ‘I’ (did
X) to ‘someone’ (did X) as it adopts a different stance towards his own conduct (Myers
and Lampropoulou 2012). Furthermore, the adoption of a renewed stance is
demonstrated in the above two extracts as the participants ‘evaluated’ the moral and
cultural implicativeness of their actions in relation to their dreaming and waking
identities (Stivers 2008, Lampropoulou and Myers 2013, Rossi and Stivers 2020).
As we have seen in the preceding analysis, participants used stance moves by using
pronoun shifts to sidestep accountability for a dreamt action that breached waking
norms. In doing so, the participants invoked a general rule about the commonsense, taken
for granted understandings, of how the social world operates by contrasting their
behaviour in dreaming and waking contexts. This displayed their concerns with identity,
morality, and culture. In the following three extracts, I focus on the way knowledge claims
are produced to adopt a stance towards a topic, and by doing so, how the participants
accomplish similar work.
6.3. Adopting a stance by using knowledge claims
In the following extracts, I show that stance practices can be used by IEs to adopt an equal
status to the IR (me) which shows how power relations are subject to negotiation in situ.
182
They adopt a stance by invoking knowledge claims in relation to dream theories, which
puts them on an equal position to me, in that we all know about dream theories. In the
first extract, Norman invokes a knowledge claim about his recurrent dreams, which is
formulated as a joke about having ‘infanticidal fantasies.’ The use of this particular
description orients towards theories in evolutionary and Freudian psychology. In the
second extract, Julienne also produces a knowledge claim about the way the brain
processes information, such as memories and impressions, which then emerge as
dreams. This orients towards neurophysiological theories of dreaming and does similar
work to Norman’s, in that they both adopt a stance to display their knowledge of dream
theory.
Extract 6.3: DD:13: Norman
1. L: right so can you remember any of your recurrent(.)
2. dreams=
3. N: =.hhhhh m probably in the: moments.((coughs))hmm
4. immediately following them I can and [then]they=
5. L: [yeah]
6. N: =rec[e::d]e=
7. L: [a::h]
8. N: =but y’know they are things like falling down escalators
9. >dropping children .hhhh (.) children falling down
10. stairs children being dropped off of or falling off of
11. liners< (.).hhhh [.HHHh] >ought(he) £to go to a=
12. L: [yeah ]
13. N: =therapist£ about it this<(hhh[ahehehe]ss s: >sort of<=
14. L: [ah-aha ]
15. N: =suppressed infanticidal fantasies .h[hhhh hehe].HH=
16. L: [ahehehehe]
17. N: =but no they’re generally terri::ble .hhhh I mean
18. th- th- (.) I don’t know what it is.
At line 1, I ask whether Norman can remember any of his recurrent dreams. After some
preliminary work, he provides an account about having dreams that ‘skip connects’
(Heritage and Watson 1980) back to an earlier part of the interview where he has already
mentioned the troubling dreams he has. Norman recounts having dreams about falling
183
down escalators, dropping children, children falling downstairs, being dropped, or falling
off of liners (lines 8- 11). At lines 11 and 13, he produces an assessment that he ‘ought to
go to a therapist’ about them. The turn includes laughter onset which signals that he is
treating it as a joke (Jefferson 2004b). I display acceptance with collaborative laughter in
overlap (line 14), this recipient laughter contributes to the respecified description in the
through-produced concluding part of the turn, wherein Norman continues his
assessment that it is ‘sort of suppressed infanticidal fantasies’ (line 13). The turn
completion also ends with laughter. Once again, I receipt it with co-produced laughter
(line 16). A point to note here that the reference to ‘suppressed infanticidal fantasies’
shows the cultural currency of Freudian theory of wish fulfilment, which is associated
with suppression of desires (Freud 1900). By producing talk that relates to popular
psychology, Norman invokes a knowledge claim that shows his understanding of a
specific dream theory. However, as we have seen, the claim to such knowledge is softened
with the production of laughter through which we collaboratively treat the description
as a humorous. Furthermore, as Schegloff (2001) has noted, playful sequences such as
this are often followed with a turn initial ‘no’ and a return to serious talk.
Although Norman’s turn initial particle at line 17 is a ‘but’, this is followed with a ‘no’ and
a return to the more serious talk he produced over lines 8-10. Over lines 17 and 18,
Norman makes a stance by downgrading the laughter and producing an evaluation that
his dreams are ‘generally terrible.’ Furthermore, the laughter in this instance is used to
mitigate against a potentially problematic contribution of Norman’s claim to knowledge,
so it can be heard as laughing off a potential trouble (Jefferson 1984) with challenging my
knowledge. Moreover, my contribution can be heard as “laughing with” him so any
potential for trouble is resolved (Glenn and Holt 2017: 297). Norman’s self-reflexive
184
rhetorical formulation wards off accountability for his actions in the dreams, and by
presenting himself as “ignorant” (Dubois 2007:143) he reverses his stance towards his
knowledge and is now doing being a good IE. On the one hand, he is displaying his
knowledge of dream theory, which could be subject to a challenge given that we are in a
research interview about dreams, while on the other hand, he is displaying his ignorance.
By distancing himself from both the theory and his actions in the dream, as with Nigel
and Janice, the reformulated version of self exonerates him from any accountability.
By making an evaluation about having ‘suppressed infanticidal fantasies,’ Norman is also
using a COBA that displays his understanding that his actions in the dream are out of
bounds with the taken for granted rule about how adults would normatively be expected
to behave towards children. The COBA is predicated on the ‘stage of life’ device, adult-
child, relative to his dreamt activity of not looking after children properly, which is
normatively, morally, and culturally implicative. Furthermore, Norman has a stake in the
identity work that is being constructed, so claiming that he doesn’t ‘know what it is’ (line
18), that is, he does not know the reason for having these dreams is a way of managing
his representation of self within the interview (Lee and Roth 2004).
In the next extract, Julienne also produces a knowledge claim about a dream theory to
account for why we dream. Just prior to the extract, Julienne has been talking about her
child being sick. She then had a dream in which she was making plans about how she
would manage work the following day and who would look after her child.
Extract 6.4: DD:1: Julienne
1. L: .sshhh so you used the term there ACTually happened (.)
2. do you see any connection between(.)[e::rm] I don’t know=
3. J: [YEAH ]
185
4. L: =how to express it really .hh the real A:nd (.) >what
5. happens< in dreams. .HHHSSS=
6. J: =E::rm m- .hhh yeah I Do:: but(.)I think e::rm hhh(0.5)
7. u-(0.7) pt >yeah< I don’t buy into any sort of emystical
8. predictive [kind of] y’know (.) >ideas about dre::ams< I=
9. L: [right ]((coughs))
10. J: =tend t’think as pretty much yo::ur .hh y’know
11. your bra- >it’s your brain< dealing with memories your bra-
12. brain De- DE[aling] with stuff n .hhh an making conNECtions=
13. L: [hmmm ]
14. J: =n it u-using (0.4).HHH(.) >IT’S USING IMPRESSIONS<
15. you’ve already PUT I::n [a::nd y’ k]now sometimes the=
16. L: [yeah yeah ]
17. J: =outcome is kinda quite unpredictable in terms of things
18. you don’t quite recognise
Over lines 1-5, I formulate a question about whether Julienne can see a connection
between ‘the real’ and what happens in dreams. My ‘e::rm’ (line 3) is an attempt to hold
the turn because Julienne has come in, in overlap, with a relatively loudly produced
agreement token ‘YEAH’. As Schegloff (2000) notes, when speakers are competing for a
turn, they may use louder talk. Julienne’s overlap (line3) demonstrates that she knows
what is forthcoming as the agreement token ‘skip connects’ (Heritage and Watson 1980)
back to my prior turn which had created a ‘relevant category environment’ in which the
question could be understood (Jayyusi, 1984: 135). Over lines 6-18, she produces an
account and evaluation about her understanding of why we dream, which orients
towards a neurophysiological dream theory of sensory input/output. This is
demonstrated in the way she formulates the account, i.e., it’s your brain dealing with
‘memories’ (line 11), and ‘impressions’ (line 14), and ‘making connections’ (line 12).
During this account, apart from an acknowledgement token (line 9), a continuer (line 13)
and a repeated agreement token (line 16), I have no further input. By not attempting to
take the floor during her description and claims to know how dream content is produced,
I adopt a stance towards the talk which orients towards my stakes and interests as IR. So,
186
through this sequence, our respective identities as IR and IE emerge as we co-produce
the talk through stance practices (Rapley 2015, Myers and Lampropoulou 2012).
Over lines 6-8, Julienne describes what she does not think dreams are about. She does
think there is a connection between dreaming and reality, but she doesn’t buy into
‘mystical’, ‘predictive’ ideas about dreams. In this part of the account, she is orienting her
knowledge claim to theories about dreams being prophetic, that is, as being able to tell us
something about the future (Fine and Fischer Leighton 1993, Wagner-Pacifici and
Bershady 1993). The account is ‘but’ prefaced, which is setting up a contrasting personal
perspective (Edwards and Fasulo 2006). Additionally, as we have seen in some of the
previous analyses, it is littered with hesitancies, which, in combination, suggest that
Julienne’s understanding about whether a connection exists between waking and
dreaming activities is not going to be reflected in a straightforward yes/no response
(Raymond 2003).
Julienne’s production of ‘y’know’ (line 8) is an appeal to me to accept her knowledge
claim, which orients towards her evaluation that we both know something about dream
theories, that is, we have knowledge shared in common (Schegloff 1991). In this respect
she is doing identity work by invoking her knowledge as someone who also knows about
dream theories which puts her on an equal status to me. Over lines 10-18, Julienne
formulates an account that explicitly explains dreams as being determined by the way the
brain functions. In effect, she rejects a pre-cognitive or parapsychological explanation in
favour of a material scientific and causal one. She states that she ‘tends’ to think,’ ‘your
brain,’ is ‘dealing with stuff,’ including ‘memories’ and ‘making connections,’ and ‘using
impressions’ ‘you’ve already put in.’ She says, ‘sometimes the outcome is unpredictable,’
187
in terms of things you don’t quite recognise.’ With her description that it is your brain
that is doing the connecting work, she generalises her explanation by objectifying the
brain; so, ‘it’ rather than she, is responsible for the content of her dreams. So, while, like
Norman, she is displaying her knowledge of dream theory, she does so in a similar way to
Nigel in that she places responsibility for dream content onto a generalised ‘other’ object,
which shifts responsibility for what she dreams about. And even though she is not
describing a dream, a similar rhetorical move is at work. By attributing the content of
dreams to impressions that have already been put in, Julienne’s account differs from
Norman’s, as unlike his claim not to know, she knows why dreams occur. However, she
does slightly qualify this stance by claiming that she ‘tends to think’ (line 10), and by
hedging, like Norman, she is warding off the potential for challenge. Nonetheless, the
upshot is like Norman’s in that the account works to assert her credibility, similarity, and
status (to me) in relation to knowing stuff about dreams. So, as someone recruited to talk
about her dreams, she has shown herself to be knowledgeable. Julienne’s explanation is
hearable as an interested description (Antaki 1994: 4). Within the account she reflexively
and indexically invokes psychological phenomena such as ‘memories’ (line 11) and
‘impressions’ (line 14), as well as a physiological explanation about how the brain
functions. Furthermore, by aligning with some theories and rejecting others, she is
rhetorically constituting and locally managing the talk to accomplish a successful
argument (Antaki 1994). Through this stance-taking process, she represents her identity
as equal to mine, relative to our respective understanding about dreams, which puts us
on equal footing. In the 'how to’ do interviews literature, this might be perceived as
subverting the IR/IE roles. However, from my analytical perspective, it shows that there
is no ‘fixed’ asymmetry as by examining the turn-by-turn production of the talk we can
see how ‘power’ moves from person to person.
188
In an earlier part of the interview, and still focussing on the connections between dream
content and its relationship to actions in the waking world, Julienne provides support for
her claim that the outcomes of this brain processing work can be unpredictable by
describing a dream she had about her male boss in drag.
Extract 6.5: DD:1: Julienne
1. L: that’s now eh[ru::nn]ing .hh so >thank you for=
2. J: [uh huh]
3. L: =agreeing to participate< erm I’m jst gonna eh uh
4. ask you a few questions about your dre::ms=
5. J: =okay
6. L: erm (.).hhhsss an I’ll start off by asking em .hhh
7. d’you ever have(.)any dreams that you remem::ba.=
8. J: =yea::h sometimes quite quite unusual that I
9. rem[ember them .h u]sually it’s more of a bleugh::=
10. L: [°.hh okay° erm ]
11. right okay an what would wh- >is there anything in
12. particular that prompts you to remem:ber them.<
13. ((sniffs)).hhhhss=
14. J: ah eh a (0.3).hhh >I think sometimes the ones you
15. remember< are ones that ar:e are particularly
16. wacky or that a- particularly connect with
17. some::thing or [ar::]:: (.) eh y’know somehow:: really=
18. L: [yeah]
19. J: =.hhhh (.) DISconceerting kind of warp- warping
20. of reality
21. L: .hhh okay erm erm I’m gonna ask y- you >cos you
22. you’ve used three terms there which is WACKY e::rm (.)
23. connect and disconcerting< so w- can I ask you what
24. you mean by [wacky i]n the first instance.=
25. L: [mmmm ]
26. J: e:::rm .hh we ah thi- uh th- e ye::ah .hhh I > kind
27. of a best the best exa::mple £I think is one that
28. hits(he)all(he)of those(he)three< .hhhh things which
29. was that I still remember an this isss this iss(0.1)a
30. long:: time ago .hh maybe ºgod maybe 15 years agoº now
31. .hhh I remember having a dream about my boss at the
32. ti::m[ein]in(.)in dra[::g right ] right so .h=
33. L: [hhm]m [nohehehe ]
34. J: [=£so w-a ma]le£ boss(hehe).hh uh end .hhh y’know
35. L: [okay hahaha ]
36. J: .hhh e:::ha y’know there there ee was was >large as life
37. in the dream< .hh wearing a a wearing a a dress that was
38. kind of the kind of flower chintz [pattern t]hat you’d=
39. L: [mmhm mmhm]
40. J: =get on a s[o::fa] .h e::rm a::ns .hh y’know an that’s=
41. L: [mhmm ]
42. J: =a very disconcerting image to take with you into the
43. next da::y when you’re in a a meeting with this pe::rson
189
After setting up the interview, with a thanking, and informing (lines 1-5), I ask Julienne
whether she has any dreams that she remembers (lines 6-7). She provides an account
about it being quite unusual that she remembers them and that they are more of a blur
(lines 8-9). I then ask what prompts her to remember them (lines 11-13) and she
describes the ones she remembers as ‘particularly wacky,’ or that ‘particularly connect
with something’ (line 16), ‘somehow really disconcerting’ (lines 17-19), and that are ‘kind
of warping of reality’ (19-20). Following her response, I produce an announcement, ‘okay
I’m gonna ask’ (line 21), and a question ‘what do you mean by wacky in the first instance?’
(lines 21-23). I then reformulate the question, moving from the assertive ‘I’m gonna ask’
(line 21), to a less assertive ‘can I ask.’
Through this shift, I reposition my stance towards the IE by softening the tone of the
question and reformulating it as a request that implicitly orients towards our identities
in the membership collection IR/IE. Furthermore, Julienne’s response also orients to our
co-membership of the setting. By asking Julienne to tell me about a ‘wacky’ dream (line
24), I am potentially setting up two further questions about the ‘connectedness’ and
‘disconcertedness’, and in doing so, I draw a boundary between ‘wacky’ and the other
descriptors she has invoked. So, although she is compliant with my request for her to
provide an account about a dream, she does so on her terms by saying she will talk about
a dream that will ‘hit all three of those things’ (line 28). Hence, she takes the stance by
asserting her control over the terms of engagement (Whitehead and Baldry 2018).
However, this is only after considerable perturbations and a justification in the form of
an ECF, ‘the best example’ (lines 26-27). This shows that she is working to take control.
Moreover, she is making a display of doing so to represent herself as someone who is not
only knowledgeable about her dreams but who is also a highly competent IE. As Rapley
190
(2015) argues, identity work in research interviews may be explicitly tied to issues of
expertise, knowledge and rights and responsibilities, and Julienne is orienting towards
her responsibilities and rights to display her expertise and knowledge about her
experiences. She is also managing the CBAs of the IE category by responding to my
questions, so she is doing more than one thing. We see similar work by the IR in the
following section.
In this respect, Julienne is showing a concern with the ‘morality (of my) knowledge’
(Stivers et al 2011), by indexing her relative rights of epistemic authority over the topic
(Heritage and Raymond 2005). In effect, she is “policing knowledge,” (Sidnell 2005: 171),
which is subject to a moral order over which I might not have epistemic rights to. Through
this exchange, we are establishing the respective boundaries about this piece of
knowledge (Stivers et al 2011). So, although Julienne has modified what she is going to
talk about, it does not constitute a challenge to my authority, but a minor dispute over the
terms of agreement which she has worked at to negotiate (Heritage and Raymond 2005,
Whitehead and Baldry 2018). So, rather than viewing this interactional work as
adversarial, which is how it might be described in the ‘how to’ literature (Rapley 2001b),
she is invoking her right to talk about her experiences in her own way by specifying her
own agenda. In effect, the design of the pre-dream account both authorises the version
she produces (Smith 1978) and provides an instruction about how I should make sense
of what is to come. Given the design, it is likely that she had a particular dream in mind in
her initial description of what constitutes memorable dreams.
As discussed in chapter three, CA and MCA work on research interviews argues in favour
of examining how IR and IE identities are produced and how they work to demonstrate
191
themselves as specific types of people in relation to both the topics of talk and how
interviewees produce themselves in morally adequate ways (e.g., Baker, 1984, 1997,
Rapley 2001, Rapley 2015). As Rapley (2015: 4) notes, both IRs and IEs locally manage
their identities, their talk, and the interaction itself. This can be highlighted by examining
the practical action and reasoning that occurs between them, through the question-and-
answer sequences. Baker (2002: 792) argues that by adopting this approach it is possible
to see how culture is oriented towards through the practical and moral reasoning of IEs
and IRs, so the analysis should not only be about the topic but should also be about
interactional competencies in accounting for events, actions, and so on.
We can see this in Julienne’s descriptive work. After setting up the forthcoming dream in
which her ‘boss’ was in ‘drag’ (line 32), Julienne repairs this to ‘male boss’ (line 34), even
though him being male is explicit in the characterisation of being in drag, as it is not
generally the case that females are described this way. Furthermore, Julienne has made
an evaluation that this is ‘wacky’ and ‘disconcerting,’ so she connects the action to her
boss as being morally and culturally accountable in relation to his identity as a male. The
evaluation of the dream is not dissimilar to those produced by Nigel and Janice, who
respectively represented their commonsense understandings about what constitutes
appropriate behaviour for siblings, and students in a tai chi class. So, in this respect,
Julienne is invoking her commonsense, taken for granted understanding about how male
bosses should behave, by applying a general rule to the specific activity in the dream.
Therefore, it constitutes a COBA. And, like Nigel and Janice, Julienne’s account orients
towards her social relationship outside of the interview setting, by indexing her
membership of the category collections ‘occupation,’ and ‘organisational hierarchy,’
through the production of the standard relational pair (Sacks 1992), ‘senior and junior
192
co-workers.’ It is also a gendered account. Furthermore, in characterising her former
boss’s actions as ‘wacky’ and ‘disconcerting,’ she contrastively presents herself as normal,
that is, as someone who knows how male bosses should typically behave.
Having shown how personal pronouns and knowledge claims can be analysed to identify
stance practices, in the final section, I focus on an extended extract from the sleep data to
show how they can also be used to resist an action and to display sensitivity to both topic
and IE.
6.4. Using stance practices to manage the interview
In the case of Julienne, I have begun to look at the way stance has been used to control
the interaction and, in this section, I explore this more fully. However, to do so, I briefly,
talk about the omnirelevance of the institutional setting in relation to the way it operates
and impacts on the work that IEs and IRs produce. As we will see, the stance-making and
stance-taking practices in the extracts below are made relevant as a power struggle.
As Bucholtz and Hall (2005: 594) note, identity relations emerge interactionally through
several related indexical processes, including explicit mentions of implied identity
categories relative to a speaker’s own or someone else’s identity positions, which are
evaluative and orient towards the ongoing flow of the interaction. They refer to this as
the social positioning of the self and other, and argue that the production of identity is
fluid, temporary, and emerges on a moment-to-moment basis interactionally (Bucholtz
and Hall 2005: 586, Cf. Benwell and Stokoe 2006). Sacks (1992: 314) argues that some
membership devices have omnirelevance within an interaction, when:
193
“things may be going along, the device isn’t being used: at some point something
happens which makes it appropriate, and it’s used. When it is used, it’s the
controlling device, i.e., there is no way of excluding its operation when
relevant”.
Fitzgerald et al (2009) argue that omnirelevant categories can ‘touch off’ all manner of
other categories (Fitzgerald et al. 2009). As we have observed so far, some of the touched
off omnirelevant collections have included family membership, occupational
relationships, gender, sexuality, age, and so on. The analysis has not treated these identity
categories as apriori relevant but has demonstrated their relevance as they have been
oriented towards in situ. In line with the thesis aims, the analysis has illustrated how and
for what purposes these categories are relevant rather than assuming that, for example,
just because a female is speaking, gender will always be relevant (Kitzinger 2005).
Moreover, as we have seen, identity categories may not be explicitly invoked yet can still
become relevant, for example as contrasts to mentioned categories.
As Fitzgerald et al. (2009:46) propose displays of knowledge and understandings can
invoke the ongoing relevance of participants’ identities and relationships as well as
displaying the relevance of these identities beyond the sequence being examined.”
Furthermore, they argue that irrespective of displays of individual identity, membership
of category groups can be demonstrable in the talk within a given context. This has been
observable in participant’s efforts to construct dualised versions of self as both actors
within the dream and as narrators of the dream in the interview setting (Bergmann and
Perakyla 2014). Perakyla and Bergmann refer to this as a process of joint meaning
making. These self-representations have mainly been accomplished by collapsing the
194
ontological (omnirelevant) boundaries between the local (contingent) setting and the
broader social realities being accounted for.
In the following extract, Donna adopts a stance in the form of a complaint that orients
towards the moral implicativeness of being treated differently to everybody else in a
dream about a party she attended. She uses stance to take and hold both floor and topic
(Dubois 2007). To provide some context, Donna is in rehabilitation from substance use,
she implies that her recovery is from when she was ‘alcoholic’ and this serves as the basis
for her representation of being singled out for different treatment compared to the other
people at the party. An additional point to note, is that the extract is still quite lengthy so
although I have omitted some of text, I have had to retain what is needed for the purpose
of the analysis. In the following analysis, I particularly want to draw out the struggle
between IR and IE over both the topic and terms of the dream telling.
Extract 6.6: SD:9: Donna
1. R: =°okay° (0.3)((writing noise))and had you had nightmares
2. e as a(.) child were they a- w- was nightmares s >sort
3. of< a common theme[. or was ] n[o so]
4. D: [don’t recal] d[on’t] recall nightmares
5. ((2.6) (((writing noise))
6. R: can I ask roughly what they were (.)I have to be very
7. WAry ((sniffs)) cos obviously nightmares are .HHH
8. emot[ional=]
9. D: [no a ]h I can easily tell you e::rm (0.4) a:::nd
10. (1.3) I was having both of them up until last ye::ar (0.4)
11. one of them I don’t have at all now=
12. R: =°okay°
13. D: an the other one I have(.3) periodically. HH a:::nd
14. I had a bLIP of it last night=
15. R: =oka[y]
16. D: [B]UT >I was able< to push it[away=](0.3)
17. R: [yeah ] well I don’t want
18. us to dwell [on it]
19. D: [NO I ]can easily tell you=
20. R: =°oh okay°.hhhhh
21. D: .hh wa- the one that I’m still having occasionally
22. that erm >I had last night and I pushed it away< .hhh
23. is erm (.)I go (.) with (0.9) my partner an >so I’m
195
24. gue::ssing it’s my husband< [to a]ho::use(.)party=
((lines 26 – 34 omitted))
35. D: erm an it’s a MASSive house it’s a MASSive kitchen
36. an there’s loads of people and the lady of the house(.)
37. the hostess co::mes when we arrive .hhh an she say’s what
38. would you like to drink(.)an I’m not drinking you see
39. (.)cos erm I don’t know whether .hh I’m alcoholic (0.3)
40. en I’ve given up drinking (.)I don’t really know
41. .ssshhh but >what would you like to drink< an I say I’d
42. H- like a glass of er tap water and a tall glass with ice
43. and lemon please (0.4).hh an she says erm .hh well as
44. you’d only like (.)to have tap water you can go and help
45. yourself .hh an I’m VEry miffed (.) e::rm put out .H er
46. that >everybody else gets their drinks served to them<
47. nicely by (.) the lady whose house it is .HH probably co-
48. because they’re having a proper [drin]k .HHH but I’m only=
49. R: [yeah]
50. =having water .hh but b b because I’m not having a proper
51. drink and I’m only having water that I can get bloody
52. well basically go and get my own=
53. R: =yeah
54. D: e::rm and the twist on that i::s that the lady will get
55. me a drink (0.2) but I can’t have the slice of lemon
56. because the lemon(0.3)is being saved for those people who
57. are >having a proper drink<=
58. R: =°°okay°°
Over lines 1-3, the IR asks Donna about whether nightmares were a common theme in
her childhood and in doing so, he invokes a ‘stage of life device’ (Sacks 1992). However,
she responds with a disaffiliative answer that she does not recall nightmares (line 4).
After this there is a 2.5 second silence which is due to what sounds like the interviewer
writing; notably Donna waits until he takes up the next turn rather than continuing with
her turn. The IR then asks another question about what the nightmares were about (lines
6-8), even though she has previously said she can’t recall any. The IR also says he needs
to be ‘very wary’ because nightmares are ‘obviously emotional.’ By formulating his
evaluation in this way, the IR presents a particular view that orients towards
commonsense knowledge of how they might be treated by a dreamer. However, it is being
used here to do particular interactional work, i.e., he is making a display of being a
sensitive IR. Furthermore, it also provides for the potential response that Donna might
196
make (Roulston 2011a). This is an example of the way qualitative social researchers
introduce their own ideas about a topic, so the IR is both talking in a ‘personal capacity’
but also, by invoking a potential response, is talking in an ‘institutional’ one (Potter and
Hepburn 2012).
Additionally, the use of the subjective category ‘emotional’ attributes a potential quality
to Donna without explicitly stating that she gets emotional because she has nightmares,
but this is done in a generalised way. Donna resists incumbency of the attribute
‘emotional’ and adopts a disaffiliative stance towards it, by stating that she can ‘easily’ tell
him about her nightmares (lines 9-11). However, the turn is marked with three in-turn
silences of (0.4), (1.3) and another (0.4), as well as some other hesitancies, after which
she then states that she does not have them at all now (lines 9-10). The silences signal
some interactional troubles, which seem to be because she is responding to a plural
question, ‘nightmares’ and she is trying to negotiate a reformulation to a single
nightmare. In this respect, she is taking a stance towards the design of the question, which
is receipted by the IR with an audibly quiet agreement token ‘°okay°’ (line 12). Over lines
13- 16, Donna talks about having a ‘blip’ (of a nightmare) but says she ‘was able to push
it away,’ which suggests that although she can ‘easily’ tell him about her nightmare it is
nonetheless troubling. If we recall from chapter 3, Trisha displayed her struggle with a
dream about the devil, from which she said she ‘managed’ to ‘pull herself out.’ Donna’s
description of ‘pushing’ her dream away is doing similar work to warrant the category
‘nightmare,’ in that she must work at pushing it away. By formulating the description in
this way, she is making a hearable display that for her it is a nightmare.
197
At lines 17, in overlap with Donna’s production of ‘away,’ the IR produces an agreement
token ‘yeah’ and then states that he doesn’t want ‘us’ to dwell on it. On the one hand, he
is again displaying sensitivity to Donna’s description and doing being a good IR, i.e., one
who is aware of the ethical concern that may be at stake. Yet on the other hand he is
instructing Donna that he doesn’t want them to talk about it. However, Donna then
produces a relatively loud ‘NO’ and repeats her claim that she can ‘easily’ tell him (line
19). At line 20, the IR produces an agreement token ‘oh okay’ that is audibly quieter than
the surrounding talk, so even though he is agreeing that she can continue to pursue the
topic, he is still displaying a degree of sensitivity by projecting back to the attribute
‘emotional.’ However, Donna is keen to pursue the telling of a nightmare by asserting her
epistemic control/stance over the topic. Furthermore, she is doing so by setting the terms
of agreement about how the interview will proceed, in a similar way as Julienne did in the
previous extract (Heritage and Raymond 2005, Whitehead and Baldry 2018). Her
persistence pays, off as the interviewer cedes the floor allowing the talk about her
nightmare to continue. She is now able to talk about it, but not as a childhood memory or
recurrent theme.
Over lines 21 – 78, Donna recounts and complains about a dream in which she is at a party
where, because she’s not having a ‘proper drink,’ i.e., an alcoholic drink, the ‘lady of the
house’ (line 35), says she can help herself because she is only having ‘tap water’ (lines 42-
43), even though she serves ‘everybody else’ ‘nicely’ (line 46). Donna accentuates the
contrast between the way she is treated in the dream and the way everybody else is
treated by invoking a repeated contrast between a ‘proper drink’ (lines 47, 49, 56) and
‘tap water’ (lines 41, 43) and ‘water’ (lines 49, 50). A final point to note is that the IR only
responds when Donna emphasises the word ‘proper.’ He produces an agreement token
198
‘yeah’ (line 48) and a receipt token ‘°°okay°°’ (line 57), which is produced as a whisper
and indicates that there are interactional troubles at work. Given that they are in an
interview about Donna’s recovery from substance use, he is still displaying his concern
with the ethical issue that is at stake. However, as we will see in what is to follow the
reason for this quiet talk is that he has an agenda to attend to and Donna is preventing
him from getting back on topic.
At the start of the interview, Donna had informed the IR that she may need to cut the
interview short as she is expecting a phone call. In the next extract from the same part of
the interview, Donna is accounting for another nightmare when the IR makes an emphatic
appeal that he wants to talk about sleep and recovery because he is aware that she may
have a phone call coming.
Extract:6.7: SD:9: Donna ((from the same extract))
79. D: .HH THE OTHER one i::s the hotel where my dad was .hhh is
80. a big 22 bedroom er erm Castellated Folly (0.8) .HH a::::nd
81. er there’s a >fire< pt a::nd I can smell the fire smoke
82. .hh and I can hear .H the long long pea green curtains
83. >which is what [we did] have< .hh ripping on the sha::rds=
84. R: [.HHHH ]
85. D: =of glass an I went OH GOD ISN’T THAT WEIRD. .hh OOH(.)MM .hhh
86. >the windows are like those ones<(.).hhhh >not in my
87. dream< I mean (.)really=
88. R: .HHH((sniffs)).hhh pt (.)
89. R: JST JSt in case[your ah hhh ]
90. D: [an my legs are ]>trapped
91. an I can’t get out<=
92. R: =ye::ah °no° .HHH just in case your phone call comes there’s
93. one thing I’d I’d re::ally really really really would would
94. like to make sure we cover as well which is .hhh how is
95. sleep during those periods of >sort of< detox an
96. D: DETOX.=
97. R: =yeah an >sort of<.HHH from 2013
Over lines 79-83, Donna begins to describe a somewhat detailed dream about being in a
fire in a hotel. At line 84, the IR produces a lengthy and relatively loud in-breath, in
199
overlap with Donna’s production of talk that is uttered more quickly than the
surrounding talk, ‘which is what we did have’ (line 85). This signals that he is attempting
to take the turn at the next transition relevance place. However, Donna resists his attempt
by continuing to tell the dream (lines 85-87). She introduces a sudden topic shift with a
‘marked movement’ (Schegloff 1996) and three-part list, she says relatively loudly, ‘OH
GOD ISN’T THAT WEIRD,’ ‘I mean really,’ ‘not in my dream.’ The second part of the list is
an ECF, so the turn is formulated to make a strong display of the move from the telling of
the dream to making an observation about the room that Donna and IR are in. So, she
adopts a stance towards an object (Dubois 2007), i.e., that the windows in the room are
the same as the ones in the dream. Donna is making a display of their significance through
an enactment of surprise (Wilkinson and Kitzinger 2006). Although the IR waits for list
completion before attempting to take the turn, the question ‘isn’t that weird’ is receipted
with disaffiliative non-verbal signals of dispreference, followed by an attempt to reclaim
the floor (lines 88-89) that seems to suggest the introduction of new topic ‘JST JST in case
your’ (line 89), which Donna seemingly acknowledges the use of the personal pronoun
‘your’ as orienting towards something personal so she rapidly ends the telling of the
nightmare (lines 90-91). After this, the IR takes a strong stance against Donna’s
continuing talk about her nightmares and finally regains control of the floor with a direct
appeal to in the form of a repeated ECF that includes ‘really’ four times, and refers to
wanting to ‘make sure we cover sleep and detox’ (lines 92-95). This can be heard as a
complaint along the lines of wanting to focus on his research agenda. Furthermore, by
mentioning the phone call and the object of stance that he wants to discuss (sleep and
detox), he provides a justification for his complaint, by referring back to Donna’s mention
of the phone call. Thus, by using her own concern the basis to take back control of both
topic and floor the IR legitimises the stance move on the grounds that Donna would find
200
difficult to resist any further. Donna accepts the renewed stance by repeating the IR’s
mention of detox (line 96), relatively loudly which can be taken as an acknowledgement
of the relevance of the topic.
The notable feature of this sequence is the interactional struggle over topic and floor
between the IE and IR. This stance-taking action re-establishes the professional rights
and identity of the IR as a relevant and recognisably moral action (Tileaga 2012).
According to Dubois (2007), ‘I really would’ is a stance object, which in this instance has
been used by the IR to upgrade his position (line 84). Furthermore, the personal pronoun
‘I’ is a categorisation device that signals category entitlement (Housley and Fitzgerald
2002). Dubois (2007) suggests “the very act of stance-taking makes it fair game for the
next speaker’s stance” (Dubois: 2007: 142), so at any one time within the interactional
flow, either speakers or recipients could make or take a stance. As we saw, in the first part
of the extract, the IR produced an evaluation that the interview was going off topic with
his instruction ‘I don’t want us to dwell on it’ (extract 6.6, lines 17-18), but Donna used a
counter stance through the personal pronoun saying, ‘I can easily tell you’. Similarly, in
the second extract she says, ‘my legs are trapped’ (line 86). By formulating her resistance
in this way, she invoked her identity as an IE who also has rights and obligations.
According to Roulston (2011a) and Baker (2004) these kinds of issues are commonplace
in interviews and can become topics for analysis in themselves, especially if the IE has a
strong agenda, which appears to be what we have observed here.
Through these stance practices, we see the omnirelevant yet unstated identity work
through which ‘subjectivity speaking’ (Dubois 2007) is enacted and intersubjectively
understood (Sacks 1992). Over these two extracts, we have seen that finding a way to
201
agree a shared ‘stance object’ (Dubois 2007) has unfolded as a power struggle relating to
both Donna’s and the IRs pursuit of different objects. This reflects Hutchby’s (1999: 483)
suggestion that we should “conceive of power […] in terms of participants’ differential
potential to enable and constrain each other’s actions.” So, like, gender, age, sexuality, and
other social categories, power cannot be simply read off as a feature of objectively
existing relationships between participants, but “must be firmly located in the systematic
examination of features integral to the discourse itself” (Watson, 1990: 280). These
embedded features have been shown here by examining the use of stance making and
taking. Through this focus on the ebb and flow of the interview, we can see that
power/control of the talk is available to both members of the interview setting and has
been used at different points by Donna and the IR to manage their respective stakes and
interests in the talk. In turn, this has illustrated the intersubjective character of the
interaction through the finely tuned rhetorical work between them. It has also shown that
doing identity is always a moral and cultural concern, whether it relates to personal or
institutional capacities. In this respect, the analysis of stance has shown that the use of
members’ methods for accomplishing identity are practical, commonsense and taken for
granted in the same way as the two-part contrast structures and COBAs that were
identified in the previous chapters. I discuss the relationship between these methods in
the concluding chapter. Having completed the empirical analysis, I now conclude the
chapter.
6. 5. Summary
In this chapter, I focussed on the reflexive, indexical and intersubjective work that is co-
produced by IRs and IEs in two situated interview contexts. I demonstrated how
epistemic stance paractices, that emerged through the question-and-answer sequences,
202
were used to manage the interviews. I also highlighted participants’ moral concerns by
identifying the topics and categories they oriented towards in both personal and
institutional capacities. I began by examining how participants, accounting for a specific
dreamt event, shifted accountability by using personal pronoun shifts that moved the
focus from self to a generalised other, person or object. I then examined the production
of knowledge claims through which IEs invoked their equal status to the IR by producing
talk about dream theories. In the final section, I focussed on the stance making and taking
practices between the IR and IE and showed how they are used to take up, resist and
reclaim control over setting and topic.
By demonstrating how IEs ‘do resistance’, ‘do knowledge claims’ and ‘do accountability
shifts’ through stance-taking and stance-making practices, the analysis shows how both
IRs and IEs can negotiate control of topic and floor through question-and-answer
sequences. It also shows that they invoke categories that orient towards their identities
in the local, institutional setting and their identities in the social worlds outside of the
setting, which is reflected in the content of their dreams. This emerges in the interviews
through an ongoing concern with morality and identity in relation to cultural rules about
what does and does not constitute normatively acceptable behaviour in the waking
world. The analysis has shown how categorisations of self, objects, and others, display
both IR’s and IE’s meanings as they are oriented towards as commonsense knowledge,
which is foundational and becomes embedded in the progress of activities in situ. So as
with the previous analytical chapters, this chapter has contributed to the attempt to
address the topic/resource issue that the thesis aims to accomplish with respect to talk
about dreams.
203
In the following, concluding chapter, I start by briefly outlining the significance of the
thesis, I then provide a summary of the thesis content in relation to the literature review,
discussion of some relevant aspects of the data and methods chapter. Following this, I
briefly reflect on how the thesis aims and research questions have been addressed and
then consider the strengths and limitations of this thesis. Finally, I outline the directions
that future research might take as well as the contributions the thesis can make to EM
and the sociology of dreams and sleep.
204
Chapter seven: discussion and conclusions
7.1. Introduction
In the previous chapter, I focussed on stance-making and stance-taking practices to show
how footing shifts were managed by both IEs and IRs. I began by examining the way
personal pronouns were used to deflect accountability for morally and culturally
accountable dreamt actions by shifting the focus on self to a generalised other, person or
object. I then examined how knowledge claims were produced through IE’s descriptions
of dream theories, which were used to display their equal status to the IR. Finally, I
explored how a participant from the sleep data used stance practices to take the floor and
resist the IR’s attempts to reclaim it. I also showed how the IR had to work hard to
maintain a display of sensitivity towards the topic of nightmares while simultaneously
orienting towards a concern with not talking about the topics that Donna has been
recruited to talk about, this displayed his orientation towards the research agenda. This
showed that talk can be doing more than one thing at any given time. By demonstrating
how IEs deflect accountability, produce knowledge claims, and resist the constraints of
the setting, the analysis showed how the interviews were negotiated through question-
and-answer sequences. This illustrated that IE and IR identities are produced by
orienting towards moral categories at the local, institutional level and also at the broader
social world outside of the setting. Finally, by highlighting this complex and nuanced
interactional work, I showed how the setting itself was talked into being. This addressed
some of the concerns about using qualitative research interviews for interactional
analysis, as discussed in chapter three.
In this chapter, I start by briefly outlining the significance of the thesis, I then provide a
summary of the thesis content in relation to the literature review and discussion of some
205
relevant aspects of the data and methods chapter. Following this, I briefly reflect on how
the thesis aims and research questions have been addressed and then consider the
strengths and limitations of this thesis. Finally, I outline some of the directions for that
future research might take, as well as the contributions the thesis can make to EM and
the sociology of dreams and sleep.
7.2. Significance of the thesis
This thesis makes an original contribution to both sociological research on dreams and
sociological work on sleep and recovery from substance use. It also contributes to
ethnomethodological work that is concerned with the way qualitative research
interviews are analysed. I used an empirically grounded approach that combined
conversation and membership categorisation analysis to study data produced in two
interviews settings. More specifically, this research: provides an interactionally focussed
examination of the way dreams are accounted for in an interview context; it showcases
the methodological approach in relation to talk about dreams and talk about recovery
from substance use; and it explores how people in interviews about dreams and
interviews about sleep and recovery produce the moral and cultural order in relation to
their situated identity work. Throughout the empirical chapters, I demonstrated how the
sequential and moral order is produced, negotiated, and managed by identifying the
interactional methods that were used to produce the interviews. I demonstrated that the
production of a normative identity was overwhelmingly oriented towards by members
of these settings and that a range of interactional methods were used for the
accomplishment of identity. This was particularly notable when the content of dreams
breached moral and cultural norms for social action in the waking world. I now discuss
the methods that were used in the thesis summary.
206
7.3. Thesis summary
I addition to introducing the data in chapter one, I described the methodology and
provided an overview of the thesis structure. I argued that research on dreams has largely
been neglected within sociology and that, in much of the research, there is a problem with
the way data are treated, both analytically and theoretically. This mistreatment of data
was the overarching concern in the thesis and relates to what Zimmerman and Pollner
(1970) refer to as a topic/resource issue, whereby the talk that people produce in
research settings is treated as an analysts’ resource rather than topics of study in and of
itself. I suggested that this problem could be addressed by using an
ethnomethodologically inspired approach that combines conversation analysis (CA) and
membership categorisation analysis (MCA) to study interview talk about dreams, and
interview talk about sleep, dreams, and recovery as a topic in its own right (Hilbert 2010),
as discussed in chapter two.
The main aim of chapter two, the literature review, was to show why ethnomethodology
is such a compelling and important approach for studying interview talk about dreams
and sleep and recovery. More specifically, it argued that by combining CA and MCA to
examine the data, the thesis could take a more robust approach to the study of dream
telling than previous conversation analytical and discourse analytical research on dreams
(Bergmann and Perakyla 2014, Perakyla and Bergmann 2020, Bardina 2021). I began the
chapter by reviewing the sociology of sleep literature and argued that a limited amount
of attention has been given to dreams and even where they are considered, they are
ultimately construed as psychological phenomena. Given that one of the datasets was
about the relationship between sleep and recovery from substance use, I then reviewed
the general addiction literature to evaluate the work that has recently emerged, relative
207
to ‘using dreams’ for people in this membership category. One of the main concerns here
was about how using dreams might influence people’s recovery and well-being, either
positively or negatively. In relation to the former, the idea was that ‘insights’ gained from
the research could be used to enhance the development of policy and practice in
rehabilitative and therapeutic settings. In terms of the latter, the concern was about
whether having using dreams might lead to relapse. An additional concern was about
whether people had an emotional reaction to using dreams by experiencing to ‘stress’
and ‘anxiety,’ for example.
In this respect, such research prioritised physiological and psychological explanations.
The purpose of this part of the literature review was to identify if or how these ideas
might be linked to the sociological research on sleep and recovery. I discuss how
participants in the sleep data made sense of experiencing ‘using dreams’ in my discussion
of chapter four below. It is not within the scope of this thesis to engage with questions
about whether having ‘using dreams’ would lead to relapse or continuing abstinence, nor
was it possible to engage with examination of emotional language. However, there could
be potential to explore the latter by doing further analysis of the sleep data using a
combined CA/MCA approach to examine the interviews and see if and how such language
is used to represent recovery and identify what is being done with it interactionally. In
this respect such research could contribute to both the addiction literature by teasing
these ideas out more comprehensively, and the sociology of sleep and recovery by
identifying the identity work that is accomplished. A final point to note is that this
literature also mistreats the data which again relates to the topic/resource issue.
208
After reviewing the addiction literature, I then reviewed the sociology of sleep and
recovery literature, which emphasises the identity work that is involved for people in
recovery as they move from being a ‘user’ to ‘getting clean.’ The main point to take away
from this was the focus on ‘doing normal’ (McIntosh and McKeganey 2000, Nettleton et
al 2011). The issue of identity was also brought out in work by McIntosh and McKeganey
(2000), who analysed interview data with ex-heroin addicts. They argued that it was
important for ex-substance users to construct their own recovery narratives, because it
helps them transition from being an ‘user’ to becoming a ‘non-user.’ However, I argued
that they had also confused topic and resource by applying categories from a pre-defined
theoretical frame of reference to their data. In order to show how this could be addressed,
I adopted a categorial approach to reanalyse one of their extracts and demonstrated that
their participant, Helen, invoked a two-part contrast device, ‘I was doing X cos Y’ to
construct her account. By doing so, she distanced her current self from her former self.
Furthermore, she accounted for her recovery by using the categories being ‘straight’
versus being a ‘user’ and refers to herself as having previously had a ‘false’ sense of self,
but now recognises her ‘real’ self. Helen also invoked an evaluation about ‘liking herself
more,’ having ‘gained self-respect’ and also ‘having more confidence’ as a ‘straight
person.’ She also invoked a blaming, but as I did not have the original data, I could not
identify what she was blaming for previous version of self. Nonetheless, through the
empirical analysis of the represented talk, I could show that she used numerous methods
to accomplish ‘doing being normal’ and the data that were presented showed that Helen’s
‘account’ was tied to concerns about identity, normative culture, and morality. Of
particular significance was the use of the contrast device, as this was also used by
participants in the sleep data, which I come on to shortly.
209
In the second section of chapter four, I continued to focus on the sleep and recovery data
and examined questions and responses about whether participants had ‘using dreams.’
The moral implications relating to the attributes being assigned through the ‘user’
category are inbuilt into this question and having previously considered that it might be
treated as a ‘delicate’ topic (Widdicombe 2017, Robles 2019), I wanted to analyse how it
was oriented towards by the IEs. In this instance it was possible to combine CA and MCA
for the analysis and I found a range of methods in use. For example, extreme case
formulations were routinely produced to either mitigate against a dispreferred response
by IRs or to emphasise the quality of the dream content, for example, as ‘horrific’ and
therefore memorable and ‘tellable’ (Bergmann and Perakyla 2014, Perakyla and
Bergmann 2020). Furthermore, geographical, and temporal references were used to
substantiate the facticity of the descriptions.
Additional methods that were used included the ‘I was doing X cos Y,’ device which was
produced in the form of a denial. Both IE and IR negotiated the terms of agreement over
the topic. Their respective identities were produced through the question/answer
adjacency pair. However, stances were sequentially renewed on a moment by moment
basis when interactional troubles emerged. For example, on one occasion, the IR made a
judgement and challenged the IE about the facticity of an account about having been
‘clean’ and ‘sober’ for nine years. This showed that IRs may deviate from displaying
‘empathy’ and ‘rapport’ with IEs if they are pursuing agendas, as discussed in chapter
three. Therefore, doing being an IR is not always a ‘neutral’ process as researchers have
their own agendas, as do IEs (Rapley 2001b). Rapley (2001b: 285) argues that “the actual
relationship between 'ideals' and 'lived practices' will always remain in tension.”
210
In addition to the methods already described, three part structures and lists were also
used to negotiate topic and floor. Knowledge claims were made by IEs, which oriented
towards the expectations of the setting that they respond to questions and also the
attributes associated with being an IE. With respect to the latter, the IRs also aligned
themselves to the assigned attributes that are tied to the category. Furthermore, the
‘using dreams’ question was oriented to in variable ways, which shows the significance
of the methodology as it teases out the complexities and nuances in the talk. As with the
previous analyses, the talk was always bound up with concerns about morality, identity,
and culture, which could be observed and reported through the moral work relating to
being in an interview and responding to questions about using dreams. A final point to
note, is that in addition to the implicit uptake of being members of the MC ‘research
device’ collection (Whitehead and Baldry 2018), and standard relational pair
‘researcher’/ ‘researched,’ and other categories of being an ‘ex-user,’ ‘ex-prisoner,’ being
‘clean’ and being ‘sober’ were invoked. So, this brief analysis of just one question showed
a wide range of members’ methods being used to produce talk about using dreams and
to do representations of self as normal, in line with the attributes of these categories.
In the final section of chapter four, I continued to focus on the ‘I was doing X cos Y’
contrast device, which was used by participants in the sleep data when describing
changes to their dreams because they had either stopped using substances or as a
consequence of using them. The first part was used to describe a change to their dreams
and the second part attributed the cause for the changes. As with the descriptions about
using dreams, similar sequential methods were used to produce the accounts. The main
point to note was that recovery identities were invoked either explicitly, through
references to being ‘clean,’ ‘sober,’ and having ‘healthy’ dreams, for example, or were
211
invoked implicitly by using the past tense to formulate the account about how dreams
changed when they were using. By managing interview talk about having been a user and
displaying their recovery identities in relation to the changing quality and quantity of
dreams, the analysis showed that the production of recovery identities (for these
participants) is categorially bound up with concerns about morality, which was displayed
through the production of self as normal. This highlighted their commonsense
understandings about what constitutes appropriate behaviour in the waking world. So
not only do they do being ‘normal’ (Nettleton et al 2012), they do so in relation to cultural
and moral concerns, and also in subtle and nuanced ways through the reflexive and
indexical use of descriptions about their dreams in recovery. Furthermore, rather than
apriori theorising about recovery narratives, using dreams, and morality and identity,
which is largely what happens in both the addiction and sociology of sleep and recovery
research, the thesis has grounded its analysis in the data, by treating the talk about sleep,
using dreams, and recovery as a topic in its own right. Coming back now to the literature
review in chapter two, after reviewing the addiction literature and sociology of sleep and
recovery literature, I reviewed the sociology of dreams literature.
Although the initial call to develop a sociology of dreams was from Roger Bastide in 1966,
there were no further developments in sociology until a special editon of the journal,
Symbolic Interaction (SI), was published in 1993. The editon included four papers (Fine
and Fisscher Leighton, Wagner Pacifici and Bershady, Wunder, and Vester) that explored
different aspects of dreams. One of the issues that came out of this review was that, in
some instances, the theories that were put forward about dreams constituted modified
versions of psychology. For example Williams (2011), suggested that dreams are
‘motivated’ and ‘willed’ by the individual dreamer, and Wunder (1993) used an apriori
212
psychological model to analyse her data. However, in summarisng the collective
contributions to the journal, Fine and Fischer Leighton (1993) argue that because dreams
are shared in public settings, dream tellers attempt to provide acceptable versions of self,
in line with the limitations of cultural boundaries. They developed a ‘model’ from which
to make sense of dreams, which represented the collection of papers in SI, and argue that
dreams reflect the culture of the individual and that they are narrated and interpreted
phenomena. Some additional ideas that emerged from the sociology of dreams literature
was that dream reports are ‘rhetorical’ (Fine and Fischer Leighton 1993, Wagner Pacifici
and Bershady (1993, Wunder 1993, Vester 1993, Nell 2014, Bardina 2021), ‘reflexive’
(Hilbert 2010, Bergamnn and Perakyla 2014, Perakyla and Bergamnn 2020) ‘hyperbolic’
(Vann and Alperstein 1997, 2000), ‘indexical’ (Hilbert 2010, Bergamnn and Perakyla
2014, Perakyla and Bergamnn 2020), ‘objective’ (Hilbert 2010, Bergamnn and Perakyla
2014, Perakyla and Bergamnn 2020) and ‘intersubjective’ (Fine and Fischer Leighton
1993, Hilbert 2010, Bergamnn and Perakyla 2014, Perakyla and Bergamnn 2020).
However, with the exception of Perakyla and Bergmann’s CA analysis of talk in a
therapeutic setting (2014, 2020), Hilbert’s (2010) ethnomethodological commentary and
Bardina’s focus on the rhetorical organisation of dream telling, in all other instances these
features of reported dreams are theoretical assertions rather than demonstrated
empirically.
A key argument in the sociology of dreams literature is that dreams are collectively, or
interusbjectively knowable (Fine and Fischer Leighton 1993, Wunder 1993, Wagner-
Pacifici and Bershady 1993, Vester 1993, Hilbert 2010, Nell 2014). As I discussed in
chapter two, Hilbert (2010) questioned how dreamers experience constraint and
objectivity when accounting for dreams, given that there is no possibility of
213
intersubjective verification. He also questioned whether we should expect a diminished
emphasis on impartiality. The analysis in this thesis has shown that, even though tellers
have sovereignty over the content of their dreams that when recounting them IEs
oriented towards the perception of other (Garfinkel 1952). This was displayed through
recipient designed turns which showed their recognition that the interaction involved
two subjectivities (Dubois 2007). Furthermore, repairs to a breached dreamt self,
illustrated their moral concerns. Arguably expressing dissatisfaction with a former user
identity is a fundamental feature in recovery narratives (McIntosh and McKeganey 2000,
2001, 2002, Nettleton et al., 2011, Robles 2019). So, the use of contrastive membership
categories, such as ‘being clean’ versus ‘being user’ worked for the reflexive, indexical and
intersubjective accomplishment of a recovered identity. In the dream data, repairs to self
were often invoked after ‘noticing’ the moral implications of disclosing questionable
content, and this was produced as a routine accomplishment, even though the
interactional stakes were lower than they may have been for the participants in the
recovery setting. Jaegher et al (2016) argue that co-presence appeals to a fundamental
level of intersubjectivity that interactionally encompasses the referential worlds invoked
through talk. So, the answer to Hilbert’s question is that because dream telling is always
bound to representations of identity with others, dream tellers may exercise self-
constraint by appealing to the broader social norms.
Furthermore, it is not the case that tellers have a diminished sense of objectivity but
rather the opposite because they have stakes and interests to attend to when sharing the
content of their dreams in the waking world. Moreover, it is precisely because of the
intersubjective work involved in the constitution of a setting that members attend to the
stakes and interests through morally framed accounts (Jayyusi 1984). So, the
214
interactional work that is produced in dream telling settings involves ‘intersubjective
verification’ (Hilbert 2010) for both self and others. Descriptions are always morally
implicative as categorisation involves ‘both a description and a judgement’ (Jayyusi 1984:
45), hence the ‘entirety of our interactional reasoning is morally and normatively
constituted’ (Jayyusi 1984: 198).
A further issue from the sociology of dreams literature to consider is Fine and Fischer
Leighton’s (1993: 98-99) ideas that dreams reflect the social culture of the individual,
that they are narrated and interpreted phenomena and that dreams are censored, in line
with the limitations of the cultural boundaries. Taking the latter point first, my analysis
has shown that it is the case that dream tellers in my data work to make a display of their
commonsense understandings of what constitutes appropriate behaviour in the waking
world. A key example in this respect is the use of the DMI, whereby they apply a general
normative rule to the specific activities in a dream that breach cultural norms. So culture
is made relevant, but not by dint of ticking a box in a survey, or even by mentioning
something about ‘culture’ in a qualitiative research interview. As seen for example in
Vann and Alperstein’s (1997) study of how media characters are reported in dream
content. Rather, culture is actively talked into being through the methods that are used
to represent participants’ ordinary commonsense reasoning about cultural rules, which
is accomplished in situated interactions. The main question for me is not just to treat
culture, intersubjectivity, indexicality, reflexivity, and the other issues identified in
chapter two and discussed in chapter three, as characteristic features of talk about
dreams, but rather to examine how they are produced and made observably and
reportably relevant in the data. And this is the key strength of this thesis because the
phenomena I analyse is talk, so I can specify how this work gets done.
215
This is further seen, in chapter five, where I demonstrated how participants’ used
contrast structures such as the ‘I was dreaming of doing X but Y’ device and category out
of bounds activities (COBAs) to do interactional work. With respect to the former, IEs
used the first part to describe events in a dream and the second part to ‘object,’ ‘deny,’
‘evaluate,’ or ‘blame,’ which displayed their commonsensical reasoning about the cultural
inappropriateness of, for example, wearing a dress that has been previously worn in
public to your own wedding, or killing dogs to get a job, or running over babies in a truck,
for example. So, IEs worked to display both their understandings that the content was
problematic and also their normalcy, but this was accomplished through formulating
representions of self in both the dream and also in the interview. Furthermore, the talk
was recipient designed to deflect accountability for those actions and, in this respect, the
interactional work was co-produced, even where minimal work was done by the IR
through the use of continuers and reciept tokens, for example. Similar work was
accomplished through the use of COBAs. These were produced by IEs to display their
understandings that the actions carried out by category members in the dream were ‘out
of bounds’ with the attributes ordinarily linked to, and expected of, that category of
person. For example, being chainsawed by a news reporter in a news report, or having
sexualised dreams about your brother, or doing a tai chi class semi-naked. In these
instances, the out of boundness was indexed by pointing out the ‘obviousness,’
‘unlikeliness,’ or ‘problem’ with these actions occurring.
In chapter six, by focussing on the way epistemic stance practices that emerged through
the question-and-answer sequences were managed, I highlighted participants’ moral
concerns by identifying the topics and categories they oriented towards in their
“personal” and “institutional” capacities (Potter and Hepburn 2012: 564). I begin by
216
examining how participants shifted accountability for actions by using personal
pronouns to move the focus from self to a generalised other, person or object, for
example, ‘my brother’ became ‘somebody’ and ‘my shirttails’ were covering ‘the parts.’ I
then examined the production of knowledge claims through which IE’s talk was used to
display their knowledge of dream theories and, thus, their equal status to the IR. In the
final section, I focussed on an extract from the sleep data and showed how the IE resisted
the IR’s attempts to display his sensitivity to the potentially ‘emotional’ character of topic
‘nightmares’. I also demonstrated how stance making and taking practices between the
IR and IE were used to take up, resist and reclaim control over setting and topic. This
showed how both IE and IR orientated to these identities as IE and IR, but also their
respective agendas, stakes, and interests in the talk, through which control can shift from
one to the other on a turn by turn, moment by moment basis. Through the use of these
methods, we can see that although are dreams narrated and interpreted, this work is
accomplished ad hoc and in situ for specific interactional purposes.
Furthermore, my analysis has shown that dreams do not reflect the social culture of the
individual, but rather, the interactional settings in which dreams are told provide spaces
where socio-cultural norms are talked into being. And these norms have been shown to
be reflexively and indexically constituted in research interviews. This may also be the
case in dream forums, psychoanalytical therapy sessions, or even in ordinary talk
between friends and family. So further research could examine whether this is the case
in these other contexts. Culture is constituted through the use of categories and actions,
such as blamings, denials, resistings, or pointing to the absurdity of events and so on, not
the other way round. Fine and Fischer Leighton, and those whose work they summarised,
are right to say that, dreams are narrated and interpreted, but it is is through this
217
narration and interpretation that culture is talked into being. In this repsect, dream
telling might be described as constituting ‘culture in action’ (Hester and Eglin 1997).
What my analysis has shown is the active work of creating culture on a moment by
moment, and occassion by occasion basis, as it is being done. Therefore, I conclude that
you won’t ‘find’ culture reflected in dreams, because they are unconscious and inaccesible
events. It can only be found in the way dream tellers represent it in relation to identity
and morality through the telling of a dream. Furthermore, as Wooffitt (1991, 1992) has
noted about telling tales of psychic mediumship or seeing UFOs, the telling of dreams is
organised to account for the facticity of the dream and to display the dream teller’s
normalcy. This has been the case in my data in relation to both talk about dreams in
general and talk about dreams in relation to recovery from substance use. Most
significantly, perhaps, is that in all cases an overriding concern has been to do ‘being
normal,’ as in having an acceptable identity which is inextricably bound to culture and
morality.
As Perakyla and Bergmann (2020: 30) have noted “the interpretation of dreams in situ,
as a concrete conversational activity,” and they argue that dream accounting is a joint-
meaning creating process between therapists and their clients. Moreover, it has been
argued that dreams can be “corrected (Curley 1975: 135), extended (Perakyla 2008) or
redescribed” (Bardina 2021: 4). However, in chapter two, I argued that these kinds of
modifications may not occur in other discursive contexts, which is largely the case with
my data, the only exception being the interview with Chloe and Isabel. As I demonstrated
in chapter five, Chloe and Isabel prompted each other’s dreams. For example, Isabel
introduced the topic of weddings which led to Chloe’s account of having to wear a dress
she had previously worn in public to her own wedding, while Chloe prompted the telling
218
of a dream in which her mum was throwing salt at Isabel’s shaved off raw skin. In this
interview, some of the talk was more akin to ordinary talk (Benwell and Stokoe 2006).
Moreover, for much of the interview, they talked between themselves. But this couple’s
interview was the only example in my corpus where it was possible to capture this kind
of data. So even though it would be difficult to capture such talk “in the wild,” i.e., in
ordinary conversation (Albert et al 2018), my analysis has shown that a range of methods
that are found in other interactional contexts are routinely used, as also shown in
Perakyla and Bergmann’s research, for example, the use of personal pronouns, making
distinctions between the dream and the waking world, epistemic stance practices,
vagueness, and mentions of temporal and locational objects (Bergmann and Perakyla
2014, Perakyla and Bergmann 2020). Finally, Bergmann and Perakyla (2020) argue that
the interpretive work involved in accounting for dreams displays fundamental
connections to the waking world.
Bardina (2021) also examined the oscillation between the waking and dreaming self and
argues that, because people do strange and unreliable things in dreams, tellers construct
their accounts to display both the facticity of the dream which is contrasted with their
normalcy. She found two ‘normalising devices’ (Jefferson 2004c) in some of the dream
reports she examined from dream sharing websites She refers to one as, ‘I was just doing
X when Y,’ and the other as, ‘at first I thought X then I realised Y.’ Bardina proposes that
these contrast devices were invoked to dream tellers to display their understanding of
what constitutes acceptable behaviour in the shared, waking world, when a dream
breached such norms. In this respect, my analysis chimes with hers, as similar moral work
was produced by IEs in this thesis by using contrast structures. Furthermore, some of the
methods identified by Bergmann, Perakyla and have also been demonstrated in the
219
interactional work produced by the participants in this thesis to accomplish the telling of
dreams. However, because I have combined CA and MCA, it has been possible to identify
a more wide-ranging set of members’ methods being used, albeit in the context of
qualitative research interviews.
In chapter three, I discussed some of the issues with using interview data when doing CA
research, some of which are relevant for the thesis conclusions. For example, Potter and
Hepburn’s (2012) points about the need to focuson the interactional context when
making sense of data; ensuring that analytical claims can be seen in the data; identifying
whether IEs and IRs are talking in an institutional or personal capacity; showing whose
roles and agendas are being oriented towards; showing footing shifts and identifying
where IR assumptions are being made. In the empirical chapters and discussion of
methods in this chapter, I have shown where these actions have taken place in the data,
through stance, the use of the DMI, knowledge claims, denials, objections, blamings,
contrast structures, evaluations, adjacency pairs, production of categories, and all the
other routine aspects of talk that have been shown in the data. By focussing on the turn-
taking system, it has been possible to highlight how identity is observable and thus
reportable, in relation to a sequence, topic and stance (Rapley 2001b: 291). Rapley
(2001b: 277) argues that talk about a topic, in the case of this thesis dreams and recovery,
should be understood in direct relation to the context in and through which it is produced,
and the IE’s and IR’s moral work also should be perceived as being central to the
interaction (Rapley 2001b: 279 - 290). Furthermore, he suggests that the IR’s questions
should be included as well as the subsequent talk so that readers can see how the talk is
co-produced and are able to judge the reliability of the analysis. Moreover, he argues that
analysts need to consider, not just that a first turn is a 'question' which receives an
220
‘answer,’ but that this particular questioner expects an answer from someone who is
reflexively identified as an answerer. So, it is not just the case that IEs produce answers,
or display their perspectives and understandings, but that they are locally produced “in
the identity of 'answerer', or 'perspective-provider,' or 'story-teller,’ and so on (Rapley
2001b: 290). So, even if data are from research interviews, it is still possible to see that
“interview talk is a specific collection of methods that are generic to talk-in-interaction”
(Rapley 2001b: 289). Rapley’s (2001b: 289) key point is that it is fundamental to note
how every element points to the next one, and the next one, and so on, so IEs and IRs
reflexively inform each other how to make sense of the talk, as a mutually reinforcing and
elaborative process. Throughout the empirical analysis, I have shown that this is the case,
and in doing so, I have addressed the thesis aims and research questions, which I now set
out.
7.4. How I addressed the thesis aims and research questions
The thesis had one overarching aim, which was to extend what is known about the way
people account for and make sense of their dreams in these interview settings. It also had
three research questions, which were:
i) What members’ methods are used by participants in these two interactional contexts
to account for dreams and recovery?
ii) What are those methods used to accomplish in situ?
iii) How is identity produced and oriented towards by interviewers and interviewees?
With respect to the main aim of the thesis, I have demonstrated that by focussing on the
talk as the phenomena, it has been possible to extend what is known about how both IEs
and IRs produce accounts and make sense of their dreams in these specific interactional
221
contexts. More significantly, by combining CA and MCA, the analysis has moved beyond
previous studies of talk about dreams in therapeutic contexts (Bergmann and Perakyla
2014, 2020), and from discourse analysis of contrasts in dream forums (Bardina 2021).
Therefore, it could contribute to both CA studies of dreams, as well as making an original
contribution to MCA, relative to the categorial analysis that has been highlighted.
Furthermore, the thesis has extended upon work in both the sociology of sleep and
recovery, and the addiction and recovery literature by demonstrating how the IEs in this
study orient towards their ‘using dreams,’ and recovery identities in situ. Additionally, by
focussing on the IE and IR identities as they were produced and oriented towards through
the turn taking process in relation to talk about dreams, I have shown that these are
participants,’ rather than analysts’ concerns.
With respect to the first research question, I have demonstrated the reflexive and
indexical use of a wide range of methods to account for dreams and recovery, for example:
the DMI; the production of recovery categories; the ‘I was doing X cos Y’ and ‘I was
dreaming of doing X but Y’ contrast structures; COBAs; personal pronouns; knowledge
claims and stance moves, as well as a host of routinely used interactional practices (SRPs,
adjacency pairs, ECFs, indexing MC collections and so on). In terms of the second
question, I have shown that these methods are used to shift accountability by: objecting,
denying, blaming, evaluating, and resisting, moving the focus from self to generalised
others or objects; accounting for cultural anomalies relative to members’ attributes;
managing topic and setting; demonstrating knowledge, and foregrounding normalcy
through representations of self. In relation to the final question, I have demonstrated the
constitution of identity as either IE or IR through question-and-answer sequences, stance
practices and other methods that were used to manage setting and topics. Additionally,
222
the IEs’ identity work was made relevant though the use of categories through references
to membership collections such as family, gender, sexuality, stage of life and others. And
the overarching concern has been the relationship between identity, morality, and
cultural norms.
As I argued in chapter one, dreams have been under-explored within sociology and even
less attention has been paid to the way people account for their dreams in situated
interactions with others. I proposed that an empirical problem exists, relative to the way
data gathered in qualitative research interviews are analysed and subsequently
theorised. The problem concerns the tendency to overlook and, indeed, obscure, the
interactional methods that both IRs and IEs use to produce their commonsensical
attitudes, perceptions, evaluations, judgements, complaints, denials, and other social
actions in relation to dreams. I also suggested that this is reductionist, as it overlooks the
collaborative work through which IRs and IEs co-produce their meanings of dreams. An
additional concern has been about the way researchers reify and prioritise their own
categories and downgrade their participants’ use of categories by approaching analysis
of data with pre-specified frames of reference that include pre-defined categories which
they then ‘fit’ to the data. To address these issues, I argued in favour of adopting an
ethnomethodologically inspired analytical approach that combines CA and MCA to
examine the data. At the heart of Garfinkel’s (1967) conceptualisation of EM is the idea
that many of the resource’s sociologists use to account for social activities are themselves
social phenomena that can be analysed as sociologically, as topics in their own right.
Zimmerman and Pollner (1979) refer to this as a topic/resource issue, whereby data are
treated by analysts as resources from which ‘insights’ can be gained about pre-specified
social categories, such as social class, or gender, or age, and so on, rather than topics that
223
can be examined to see how both researchers and their participants produce, manage and
negotiate interactions. Having discussed the findings in relation to the literature and
research questions, I now consider the strengths and limitations of this thesis.
7.5. Strengths
A key strength of the research has been the successful application of CA and MCA to study
the data, which has shown the moral and cultural implications of dreams as they relate to
the identities of both interviewers and participants. As far as I am aware, apart from
Bergmann and Perakyla’s conversation analytic work on therapeutic talk, Adler’s
application of Bergmann and Perakyla’s (2014) CA research to therapeutic talk, and
Bardina’s analysis of texts on dream websites, this is the only empirical investigation into
the study of dream telling. Furthermore, by focussing on participants’ own sense-making
methods and tracing the empirical use of members’ methods in action, this thesis has
made a further contribution to this empirical work on dreams by examining the complex
and nuanced interactional work that is used to accomplish identity. So, although Bardina
(2021) identified the use of X/Y contrast structures for doing normal, this thesis has also
shown a wide range of additional methods being displayed so it adds to her findings. It
also resonates with Bergmann and Perakyla’s work, albeit in a different interactional
setting.
With respect to the latter, it has potential impact through further research that explores
the relationship between sleep, dreams, and recovery from substance use by using
CA/MCA to analyse participants’ own ‘recovery narratives.’ This might then contribute to
developing policy and practice in rehabilitative settings by showing that the interactional
work people produce it is not just about ‘doing normal’ (Nettleton 2012, McIntosh and
224
McKeganey 2000) it is also about the context in which ‘doing normal’ is done and what
‘doing normal’ is accomplishing interactionally. It is also about showing the specificity of
what is being represented as normal, on an occasion-by-occasion basis. In this respect, it
is important to recognise that the preceding analysis is based on interview data, and it
might be worth considering how to ethically capture raw data in therapeutic settings,
group therapy and so on, wherein talk about dreams relative to using and non-using
occurs. Furthermore, because we cannot overlook the institutional character of
interviews, even if we acknowledge that they may include “social talk” or “ordinary talk”
(Benwell and Stokoe 2006: 97) and orient towards talk and knowledge outside of the
immediate setting, the thesis can contribute to the EM/CA and MCA literature on ‘how to
do’ qualitative interviews (Cf. Rapley’s 2002 thesis).
The key contribution the thesis has made is that it has identified new interactional
methods that augment those that were identified in previous CA and discourse analytical
work which opens up potential lines of further enquiry. Most significantly, it showcases
the methodology in relation to the way it can be used to examine identity, not as a fixed
and stable product of culture and the social order, but as it is reflexively produced and
modified in talk about dreams. Furthermore, as we have seen that although IEs do attach
categories to actions and actions to categories, there may be circumstances and situations
where exceptions to a general cultural rule applies. Finally, I showed that the X/Y device
was positioned at the end of the accounts, to effectively provide the moral of the story,
whereas COBAs were positioned at either the beginning, or at the end of talk about a
dream.
225
7.6. Limitations of the thesis
Although the thesis is based a small corpus of data from interviews, it is likely that the
methods that have been identified wil be used in other settings. Therefore, as Stokoe
(2012a), for example, suggests, it would be useful to continue to build materials from
other settings to support the development of the field. As we have seen with the sleep
data, to which I had no input, I uncovered methods that either directly echoed the dream
data or were produced as variations. This suggests that some of the methods may be more
widely available, indeed as we will see below, under furture directions, this is the case.
It has not been possible to capture ordinary talk “in the wild” (Albert et al 2018) to test
the extent to which these findings are evident in other settings. I have been able to show
how a couple’s interview oriented towards ordinary talk at times, but it would be difficult
to capture spontaneous talk about dreams. However, there are ways to move forward
with the analysis, which I discuss below, after outlining the contributions the thesis could
make.
7.7. Contributions of the thesis The thesis has made original contributions to ethnomethodology and sociology by
revealing a wide range of sequential and categorial practices that are used for
accomplishing social actions in talk about dreams, talk about dreams and sleep in
recovery, and managing interviews. It has also made specific contributions to CA and MCA
by extending upon previously identified methods and identifying new methods. The ‘I
was dreaming of doing X but Y’ contrast structure augment those identified by Bardina in
relation to the specific topic of dreams. More broadly, they resonate with Wooffitt’s ‘I was
doing X when Y,’ as in all cases they are used to deflect accountability and ‘do normal.’
Furthermore, ‘I was doing X cos Y,’ is likely to be found in other interactional contexts
226
and, although it is used to display a causal relationship between two events, it also
contributes to CA and MCA work on contrastive methods. Finally, the use of COBAs has
shown how dream tellers represent their commonsense understandings about the
inappropriateness of some dreamt actions in relation to members of specific membership
categories, which is highly likely to be found in other interactional contexts where dream
talk, or text is available.
For example, a tweet that I recently came across on my Twitter feed, reads verbatim, as
follows: “I dreamt I dropped acid for the first time. Note: I’ve never dropped acid in an
awakened state/real life what could this mean?” (January 7th, 2020, my emphasis). This
an example of the ‘I was dreaming of doing X but Y’ device that I just happened upon
without setting out to look for it. I also found an example of the ‘I was doing X cos Y’ from
an online social anxiety forum that I uncovered after typing ‘Doing X cos Y’ into google, it
is also copied verbatim: “Most people think I’m being rude when I’m not talkative in a
group of people. In reality, I’m terrified because my mind constantly tells me I’ll say the
wrong thing.” (the mighty.com 2017, my emphasis). There are more examples on just this
one forum. That these examples are so readily accessible is an indication that they are
more widespread than this thesis and that there is potential for further research.
7.8. Directions for future research One direction the thesis could take is to do more analysis of the sleep data to explore if
and how participants invoke ‘emotional’ talk relating to stress, anxiety and so on. This
could further knowledge in both the sociology of sleep and recovery, and the addiction
and recovery literature which could help to bring these areas together. Furthermore, this
may also have implications for developing policy and practice in therapeutic settings, as
227
noted by Colace (2020), for example. One area that would benefit in this respect is helping
to eradicate the use of stigmatising language that may be associated with former
substance use. This could contribute by helping with the recovery of ex-substance users’
mental health.
An additional direction could be to explore the way dreams impact on sleep, which could
be useful for developing greater understandings about these two interrelated aspects of
social life. Not only could this further extend what is known about the relationship
between dreams and sleep in general, which has been highlighted in the sociology of sleep
research, but it might show how disruptive elements of dreams are worked up
interactionally.
As mentioned above, an obvious line of research would be to expand the corpus of data
by examining social media sites such as Twitter and dream forums to see whether the
methods I have identified routinely occur. There may also be other contexts where COBAs
are presented, such as group therapy settings. Additionally, it would be worth exploring
whether any of these methods are used in different institutional settings with respect to
displays of cultural norms in relation to category attributes in other contexts where there
may be disputes over a specific action being linked to a general category of person, for
example, in law courts, police interviews, neighbourhood disputes, and disputes on social
media, as these types of structures are likely to be found in such materials.
7.9. Concluding statement In this chapter, I summarised the thesis and discussed analytical features that were
observed in the empirical analysis of the data. I outlined three primary research
228
contributions relating to identity, morality, and the socio-cultural order: the ‘I was
dreaming of doing X but Y’ device; the ‘I was doing X cos Y’ contrast device, and COBAs.
Additionally, I showed a range of members’ methods that were routinely used by both IEs
and IRs in relation to their identity work in the interview context. This has showcased the
significance of the methodology that was adopted for the analysis in this thesis. It also
shows that the thesis can contribute to studies of dreams in CA and broader discourse
analysis, CA and MCA work on qualitative research interviews, and the study of sleep and
recovery from substance use, relative to the way dreams impact upon sleep. The aim of
the thesis was to show how the “moral order without” (Garfinkel 1967: 35) was
constituted and to extend upon the previous research in the sociology of dreams (Fine
and Fischer Leighton 1993) and EM work on dreams provides a way of ‘getting at’ the
mundane interactional practices through which people shape and make sense of social
life and, by adopting an ethnomethodologically informed analytical approach, it has been
possible to see how the moral order is embedded in the uptake, reworking and
negotiation of identities as they are represented to others in the interviews that were
analysed herein. Furthermore, by adopting this combined approach to analyse the data, I
also addressed the concerns with using qualitative research interviews from a CA
perspective, as discussed in chapter three. The analysis has shown that the moral and
cultural order is produced on a moment-by-moment and categorial basis through the
indexical, reflexive, and intersubjective work used by IEs and IRs to organise the
interaction. By demonstrating these methods in action, I made some steps towards
addressing the fundamental topic/resource issue that the thesis is concerned with.
This thesis was originally inspired by Hilbert’s (2010) EM work which pointed to, not
only the idea that dreams are shared (Fine and Fischer Leighton 1993), but also that we
229
should treat the talk about dreams as the phenomenon, i.e., as a topic in its own right.
What I have shown, by taking Hilbert’s lead, is that dream reports are social productions
of reality, that involve routine self-policings of the boundary between social and cultural
reality and internal mental states (Edwards and Potter 1992). Thus, they help to
constitute the mutual recognition between members of an objective wide awake world
shared in common, in contrast to the subjective inner worlds of individuals. They are
social because they involve reference to general categories that are shared socio-cultural
representations. And as such they constitute part of the phenomenon for sociology
(Garfinkel 1996).
230
References
Abell, J. Stokoe, E. H. and Billig, M. (2000/2017) ‘Narrative and the discursive (re)construction of events’, In Sclater, S. (eds) The Uses of Narrative Explorations in Sociology, Psychology and Cultural Studies. New York, Routledge, pp 180-193. Adler, M. (2016) Dream-Telling Differences in Psychotherapy: The Dream as an Allusion. Language and Psychoanalysis 5, 2, 19-26 Albert, S, Albury, C, Alexander, M, Harris, T, Hofstetter, E, Holmes, E and Stokoe, E. The conversational rollercoaster: Conversation analysis and the public science of talk, Discourse Studies, 2018, 20,3, 397-424.
Allmark, P. Boote, J. Chambers, E. Clarke, A. McDonnell, A. Thompson, A and Todd, M. (2009) Ethical Issues in the use of depth interviews: Literature review and discussion, Research Ethics Review 5, 2, 48-54
Anderson, R. and Sharrock, W. (2017) Has ethnomethodology run its course?
Unpublished Manuscript, Draft 7.1 http://www.sharrockandanderson.co.uk/wp-
content/uploads/2017/11/Run-its-Course-VII.pdf Visited 24/12/2019 (Accessed February 2019)
Antaki, C. (1994). Explaining and arguing: The social organization of accounts. Thousand Oaks, California, SAGE.
Antaki, C., Billig, M., Edwards, D., & Potter, J. (1993). Discourse analysis means doing analysis: A critique of six analytic shortcomings. Discourse Analysis Online 1, 1, (no pn) Available at: http://www.shu.ac.uk/daol/previous/v1/n1/index.htm. (Accessed November 2014)
Arber, S. Bote, M. and Meadows, R. (2009) Gender and the socio-economic patterning of self-reported sleep problems in Britain, Social Science and Medicine, 68, 2, 281-289
Arber, S. Venn, S. Eyers, I. (2018) ‘Sleep and Autonomy in Later Life: the SomnIA project’, In Walker, A. (ed.) The new dynamic of aging, (Volume 2). Bristol, University Press Scholarship. Ashford, R. Brown, A. and Curtis, B. (2019) The Language of Substance Use and Recovery: Novel Use of the Go/No–Go Association Task to Measure Implicit Bias, Health Communication, 34, 11, 1296-1302 Baker, C. (1992), Description and analysis in classroom talk and interaction, Journal of Classroom Interaction, 27, 2, 9–14 Baker, C. (2000).’Locating culture in action: membership categorisation in texts and talk’, In Poynton and Lee (eds) Culture and Text: Discourse and Methodology in Social Research and Cultural Studies, St. Leonards, NSW, Allen & Unwin, pp, 99–113.
231
Baker, C. (2002), ‘Ethnomethodological analyses of interviews’, In Gubrium, J. and Holstein, J. (eds) Handbook of Interviewing: Context and Method. Thousand Oaks, Sage, pp. 777–795. Baker, C. (2004) ‘Membership categorization and interview accounts’, In Silverman, D (ed). Qualitative Research: Theory, Method and Practice. London, Sage, pp. 162-176. Bank, S. P. and Khan, M. D. (1982) The Sibling Bond. New York, Basic Books. Bardina, S. (2021) That’s what the dream says’: The use of normalizing devices in dream reports. Discourse Studies, 1-16
Barnes, B. and law, J. (1976) Whatever should be done with indexical expressions? Theory and Society, 3, 2, 223 – 237
Bascombe, W. (1983) Malinowski’s Contributions to the Study of Folklore, Folklore, 94, 2, 163-172
Bastide, R. (1966) ‘The Sociology of the Dream’, In Von Grunebaum, G. and Callois, R. (eds) The Dream and Human Societies. Berkeley, University of California Press, pp. 199-213. Beach, W. A. (1993) Transitional regularities for `casual' "Okay" usages, Journal of Pragmatics, 19, 325-352
Benwell, B. and Stokoe, E. (2006) Discourse and Identity. Edinburgh, UK: Edinburgh University Press.
Bergen, C. and Stivers, T. (2013) Patient disclosure of medical misdeeds, Journal of Health and Social Behaviour, 54, 2, 221-240 Bergmann, J and Perakyla, A. (2014) Dealing with Dreams in Psychoanalysis. International Conference on Conversation Analysis and Psychotherapy. Belgium, University of Ghent. Boden, S. (2001) ‘Superbrides’: Wedding Consumer Culture and the Construction of Bridal Identity, Sociological Research Online, 6, 1, 1-14
British Sociological Association Statement of Ethical Practice (2017). Available at
www.britsoc.co.uk/media/24310/bsa_statement_of_ethical_practice.pdf
(Accessed 27th February 2020)
Brunt, L. and Steger, B. (eds) (2008) Worlds of Sleep. Berlin, Frank and Timme.
Bucholtz, M. and Hall, K. (2005). Identity and interaction: A sociocultural linguistic approach. Discourse Studies, 7, 4-5, 585-614
232
Bulkeley, K. (2007). ‘Sacred Sleep: Scientific Contributions to the Study of Religious
Dreaming’, In Barrett, D. and McNamara, P. (eds) The New Science of Dreaming. Volume 3: Cultural and Theoretical Perspectives. Westport: Praeger, pp 71–94.
Button, G. (1991) ‘Introduction: Ethnomethodology and the foundational respecification of the human sciences’, In Button, G. (ed) Ethnomethodology and the Human Sciences. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, pp. 1-10. Carroy J. (2019) ‘A History of Dreams and the Science of Dreams: Historiographical Questions’, In Morgese G. Pietro L. G. and Vande Kemp H. (eds) Histories of Dreams and Dreaming. London, Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 17-32. Caughey, J. (1984) Imaginary Social Worlds. Lincoln, Lincoln University Press.
Childs, C. and Murray, C. D. (2010) “We All Had an Experience in There Together”: A Discursive Psychological Analysis of Collaborative Paranormal Accounts by Paranormal Investigation Team Members, Qualitative Research in Psychology, 7,1, 21-33 Christo, G. and Franey, C. (1996). Addicts drug-related dreams: their frequency and relationship to six-month outcomes. Substance Use and Misuse, 31, 1, 1-15 Clayman, S. E. (1989) The production of punctuality: Social interaction, temporal organization, and social structure, American Journal of Sociology, 95, 3, 659–691 Clift, R (2016). Don’t make me laugh: Responsive laughter in (dis)affiliation, Journal of
Pragmatics, 100, 2016, 73-88
Colace, C (2020), Gambling Dreams in Pathological Gambler Outpatients: A Pilot Study. Addicta: The Turkish Journal on Addictions, 7, 3, 174-179 Colace, C. (2000). Dreams in abstinent heroin addicts: four case reports. Sleep and Hypnosis, 2, 160-163 Colace, C. (2004). Dreaming in addiction. A study on the motivational bases of dreaming processes. Neuro-psychoanalysis, 6, 2, 167-181 Colace, C. (2010). Drug dreams in mescaline and LSD addiction. American Journal on Addictions, 19,2, 192-102 Colace, C. (2014). Drug dreams. Clinical and research implications of dreams about drugs in drug addicted patients. London. Karnac Books. Coveney, C. Williams, S. and Gabe, J. (2019) ‘Enhancement imaginaries: Exploring public understandings of pharmaceutical cognitive enhancement drugs’ Drugs: Education, Prevention and Policy, 26,4, 319-328 Curl, T. and Drew, P. (2008) Contingency and Action: A Comparison of Two Forms of Requesting, Research on Language and Social Interaction, 41, 2, 129–53
233
Denvir, P. (2012) When patients portray their conduct as normal and healthy: An interactional challenge for thorough substance use history taking, Social Science & Medicine, 75, 9, 1650-1659 Denvir, P. (2014) Saving face during routine lifestyle history taking: How patients report and remediate potentially problematic conduct, Communication & Medicine, 11, 3, 263 Dingle, G. A. Cruwys, T. and Frings, D. (2015) Social identities as pathways into and out of addiction, Frontiers in Psychology, 6, 1795-1807 Doukas, N. and Cullen, J. (2010) Recovered addicts working in the addiction field:
Pitfalls to substance abuse relapse, Drugs: Education, Prevention, and Policy, 17, 3, 216-231
Drew, P (2006) ‘When documents speak: Documents, language and interaction’, In, Talk and Interaction in Social Research Methods (Paul Drew, Geoffrey Raymond and Darin Weinberg (eds.). London. Sage, pp. 63-80
DuBois, J. W. (2007) ‘The stance triangle’, In Englebretson, R. (Ed.). Stancetaking in discourse: Subjectivity, evaluation, interaction. Amsterdam/Philadelphia, John Benjamins, pp, 139-182.
Edwards, D. (1994), Script Formulations: an analysis of event descriptions in
conversation, Journal of Language and Social Psychology, 13, 3, 211-247
Edwards, D. (2000), Extreme case formulations: softeners, investment, and doing
nonliteral, Research on Language and Social Interaction, 33, 4, 347–373.
Edwards, D. Extreme Case Formulations: Softeners, Investment, and Doing Nonliteral. Research on Language and Social Interaction, 33(4), 347–373
Edwards, D. and Fasulo, A. (2006), “To Be Honest”: Sequential uses of honesty phrases
in talk-in-interaction, Research on Language and Social Interaction, 39, 4, 343–376.
Edwards, D. and Potter, J. (1992) Discursive Psychology. London, Sage. Edwards, D. and Potter, J. (1993), Language and Causation: A Discourse Analytical Approach to Description and Attribution, Psychological Review, 100, 1, 23–41
Ellis, J. Mayo, J. Finan, P. Gamaldo, C and Huhn, A (2021). Clinical correlates of drug-related dreams in opioid use disorder. American Journal of Addictions, 1-19 Emmel, N. (2014). Sampling and choosing cases in qualitative research. London, Sage. Fine, G. and Fischer Leighton, L. (1993) Nocturnal Ommisions: Steps towards a Sociology of Dreams, Symbolic Interaction, 16, 2, 95-104
234
Fitzgerald, R. (2012) Membership Categorisation Analysis: Wild and Promiscuous or simply the joy of Sacks? Discourse Studies, 14, 3, 305-311
Fitzgerald, R. Housley, W. and Butler, C. W. (2009) Omnirelevance and interactional context, Australian Journal of Communication, 36, 3, 45-64
Flowers, L. K. and Zweben, J. E. (1998). The changing role of “using” dreams in addiction recovery. Journal of Substance Abuse Treatment, 15, 193-200
Frances and Hester 2004 An Invitation to Ethnomethodology: Language, Society and
Interaction. London, Sage.
Freud, S. (1900) The interpretation of dreams (the dream-work). Standard Edition. London, Hogarth Press.
Gabe, J. Williams, S. and Coveney, C. (2017) ‘Prescription hypnotics in the news: a study of UK audiences’, Social Science and Medicine, 174, 43-52 Garfinkel, H. (1952) The Perception of the Other: A study in Social Order. Harvard University, Cambridge, M. A.
Garfinkel, H. (1967) Studies in Ethnomethodology. Englewood Cliffs, NJ Prentice-Hall.
Garfinkel, H. (1991) ‘Respecification: Evidence for locally produced, naturally accountable phenomena of order, Logic, Reason, Meaning, Method etc., in and as of the essential haeccity of immortal, ordinary society’, In Button, G. (ed) Ethnomethodology and the Human Sciences. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 10-19. Garfinkel, H. (1996). Ethnomethodology’s Program. Social Psychology Quarterly, 59(1), 5-21 Garfinkel, Harold and Harvey Sacks (1970) ‘On formal structures of practical actions’, In McKinney, J. C. and Tiryakian, E. A. (eds.) Theoretical Sociology: Perspectives and Developments. New York: Appleton-Century Crofts, 337-66. General Data Protection Regulation and Data Protection Act (2018) available at
http://www.legislation.gov.uk/ukpga/2018/12/contents/enacted (Accessed 27th February 2020)
Gieryn, T. F. (1983) Boundary-work and the demarcation of science from non-science: strains and interests in professional ideologies of scientists, American Sociological Review, 48, 6, 781–795 Glenn, P and Holt, E. (2017) Conversation Analysis of Humour, In A, Salvatore (Ed), The Routledge Handbook of Language and Humour (pp, 295 – 309). London. Routledge
235
Goffman, E. (1963) Stigma: Notes on the Management of Spoiled Identity. London,
Penguin Books.
Goodwin, C and Heritage, J. (1990) Conversation Analysis, Annual Review of Anthropology, 19,1, 283-307
Goodwin, C. (1986), Between and within: alternative sequential treatments of
continuers and assessments, Human Studies, 9, 2, 205–217
Hajek, P. and Belcher, M. (1991). Dream of absent-minded transgression: an empirical study of a cognitive withdrawal symptom. Journal of Abnormal Psychology, 100, 487-491 ten Have, P. (2007/2011). Doing Conversation Analysis: A Practical Guide, (2nd edn). London, Sage. Hepburn and Varney (2013) ‘Beyond laughter some notes on transcription’, In Glenn, P and Holt, E (eds). Studies of laughter in interaction. London, Bloomsbury, pp Hepburn, A. and Bolden, G. B. (2013)’Transcription’, In Sidnell, J. and Stivers, T. (eds). Blackwell Handbook of Conversation Analysis. Oxford, Blackwell, pp. 57-76. Heritage, J. C. International Accountability: A Conversation Analytic Perspective. In: Réseaux, Hors Série 8, n°1, 1990. Les formes de la conversation, 1, 23-49 Heritage, J and Raymond, G. (2005) ‘The terms of agreement: indexing epistemic authority and subordination in assessment sequences’, Social Psychology Quarterly 68, 1, 15-38 Heritage, J and Wesley Raymond, C. (2021). Preference and Polarity: Epistemic Stance in Question Design, Research on Language and Social Interaction, 54:1, 39-59, DOI: 10.1080/08351813.2020.1864155
Heritage, J. (1984a) Garfinkel and Ethnomethodology. Cambridge, Polity Press.
Heritage, J. (1984b) ‘A change-of-state token and aspects of its sequential placement’, In Atkinson, J. M. and Heritage, J. (eds) Structures of Social Action: Studies in Conversation Analysis. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, pp. 299–345. Heritage, J. (1988) ‘Conversation Analysis and Institutional Talk: Analyzing Distinctive Turn-Taking Systems’, In: Cmejrková, S. Hoffmannová, J. O.Müllerová. O. and Svetlá, J. (1998) (eds.) Proceedings of the 6th International Congress of International Association for Dialog Analysis, Tubingen: Niemeyer, pp. 3-17. Heritage, J. (2018). ‘Turn-initial particles in English: The cases of oh and well’, In Between Turn and Sequence: Turn-Initial Particles Across Languages (John Heritage, Marja-Leena
Sorjonen, eds.), Amsterdam / Philadelphia, John Benjamins, pp. 149–184.
236
Heritage, J. and Atkinson, M. (1984) (Eds). Structures of Social Action Studies in Conversation Analysis. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Heritage, J. and Atkinson, M. (1984), ‘Introduction", In Structures of Social Action: Studies in Conversation Analysis’, In Heritage, J. and Atkinson, M. (eds.), Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, pp. 1–15. Heritage, J. and Raymond, G. (2005) The terms of agreement: indexing epistemic authority and subordination in assessment sequences. Social Psychology Quarterly, 68, 1, 15-38 Heritage, J. and Watson, R. D. (1980), Aspects of the properties of formulations in natural conversations: Some instances analysed, Semiotica, 30, 3-4, 245–262 Heritage, J. M. and Sorjonen, M. (2018), ‘Introduction: Analyzing turn-initial particles’, In Heritage, J. M. and Sorjonen, M. (eds) Between Turn and Sequence: Turn-Initial Particles Across Languages. Amsterdam / Philadelphia, John Benjamins, pp. 1–22. Heritage, J. (2011). Territories of knowledge, territories of experience: Empathic moments in interaction. In Tanya Stivers, Lorenza Mondada & Jakob Steensig (eds.), The morality of knowledge in conversation, 159–183. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Hester, S and Eglin, P. (1997) (eds), Culture in Action: Studies in Membership Categorization Analysis. Washington, University Press of America, pp. 1–24. Hester, S. and Eglin, P. (1997) ‘Membership categorization analysis: An introduction’, In Hester, S. and Eglin, P. (1997). Culture in Action: Studies in Membership Categorization Analysis. Washington, University Press of America. Hilbert, R. (2010) ‘The Anomalous Foundations of Dream Telling: Objective Solipsism and the Problem of Meaning’, Human Studies 33, 1, 41-64 Hill, C. (ed.) (2004) Dream work in therapy: Facilitating exploration, insight and action. Washington, American Psychological Association.
Hislop, J. and Arber, S. (2003a) Sleepers Wake! The Gendered Nature of Sleep Disruption Among Mid-life Women, Sociology, 37, 4, 695-711
Hislop, J. and Arber, S. (2003b) ‘Sleep as a social act: A Window on gender roles and relationships', In Arber, S. Davidson, K and Ginn, J. (eds) Gender and Ageing: Changing Roles and Relationships, Maidenhead, Open University Press, pp. 186-205.
Hislop, J. and Arber, S. (2004) Understanding women's sleep management: beyond medicalization-healthicization: A response to Simon Williams, Sociology of Health and Illness, 26, 4, 460-463
237
Hislop, J. and Arber, S. (2006) ‘Sleep, gender and aging’, In Calsanti, T. M. and Slevin K.L. (eds), Age Matters: Realigning Feminist Thinking. New York, Routledge, pp. 225-246. Horrocks, N. and Pounder, R. (2006) Working the Night Shift: Preparation, Survival and Recovery, Royal College of Physicians of London Guide, The Lavenham Group, Suffolk.
Housley, W. and Fitzgerald, R. (2002). The reconsidered model of membership categorization analysis, Qualitative Research 2, 1, 59–83 Housley, W. and Fitzgerald, R. (2009) Membership categorization, culture and norms in action, Discourse and Society 20, 3, 345–362 Hufford, D. (1982) The Terror that Comes in the Night. Philadelphia, Philadelphia University Press. Hutchby, I. (2001). Conversation and technology: From the telephone to the Internet. Cambridge: Polity Press. Hutchby, I. and Wooffitt, R. (1999) Conversation Analysis: Principles, Practices and Applications. Cambridge, Polity Press. Hutchby, I., (1992). Confrontation talk: aspects of ‘interruption’ in argument sequences on talk radio. Text, 12, 343-371 Hutchby, I., (2008). Participants’ orientations to interruptions, rudeness and other impolite acts in talk-in-interaction. Journal of Politeness Research, 4, 221-241 Hutchby, I. (1996) Confrontation Talk: Arguments, Asymmetries, and Power on Talk Radio. New Jersey, Lawrence Erlbaum Associates. Jaegher, H. Peraklya, Z and Stevanovic, M. (2016) The co-creation of meaningful action: bridging enaction and interactional sociology, Philosophical Transactions, Royal Society B, 1-10 Järvinen, M. and Ravn, S. (2015) Explanations and expectations: drug narratives among young cannabis users in treatment, Sociology of health & illness, 37, 6, 870–887 Jayyusi, L. (1984). Categorization and the moral order. London, Routledge. Jayyusi, L. (1991). ‘Values and moral judgement’, In Button, G. (ed.). Ethnomethodology and the Human Sciences. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, pp. 227–251. Jefferson (2015). Talking about Troubles in Conversation. Drew, P. Heritage, J. Lerner, G and Pomerantz, A. (Eds) Oxford, OU Press. Jefferson, G. (1983) Two explorations of the organization of overlapping talk in conversation: Notes on some orderliness in overlap onset. Tilburg Papers in Language and Literature, No. 28. Tilburg, NL: Tilburg University.
238
Jefferson, G. (1984). ‘On the organization of laughter in talk about troubles’, In J.M. Atkinson & J. Heritage (Eds.), Structures of social action: Studies in conversation analysis, pp. 346–369. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Jefferson, G. (1990) ‘List-construction as a task and a resource’, In Psathas, G. (ed) Interaction Competence. Washington, University Press of America, pp. 63-92. Jefferson, G. (2004a) ‘Glossary of transcript symbols with an introduction’, In Lerner, G. H. (ed) Conversation Analysis: Studies from the First Generation. Amsterdam, John Benjamins, pp. 13-31. Jefferson, Gail (2004b) A note on laughter in ‘male-female’ interaction, Discourse Studies 6, 1, 117-33 Jefferson, G. (2004c). ‘At first I thought’: A normalizing device for extraordinary events, In: Lerner GH (ed.), Conversation Analysis: Studies from the First Generation. Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins, pp.131–167. Johnson, B. (2001). Drug dreams: a neuropsychoanalytic hypothesis. Journal of the American Psychoanalytic Association, 49, 75-96
Jung, C. (1916) Collected Works, volume 8: The Structure and Dynamics of the Psyche (2nd Edn.). London, Routledge and Kegan Paul.
Jung, C. (1970) Collected Works, Volume 10. London: Routledge.
Kaukomaa, T. Peräkylä, A and Ruusuvuori, J. Foreshadowing a problem: Turn-opening
frowns in conversation Journal of Pragmatics, 71, 2014, 132-147
Kelly, J, F and Greene, C (2019) The reality of drinking and drug using dreams: A study of the prevalence, predictors, and decay with time in recovery in a national sample of U.S. adults. Journal of Substance Abuse Treatment, 96, 12-17 King, A. (2010) Membership Matters’: Applying Membership Categorisation Analysis (MCA) to Qualitative Data using Computer Assisted Qualitative Data Analysis (CAQDAS) Software, International Journal of Social Research Methodology, 13, 1, 1-16 Kitzinger, C. (2000). Doing Feminist Conversation Analysis, Feminism and Psychology, 10, 2, 163–93 Kitzinger, C. (2005) Speaking as a heterosexual: (How) does sexuality matter for talk-in-interaction, Research on Language and Social Interaction, 38, 3, 221–65
Kryger, M. Roth, T. Dement, W. (eds) (2005) Principles and Practice of Sleep Medicine (4th edn). Philadelphia, Elsevier.
Lampropoulou, S and Myers, G. Myers Stance-taking in Interviews from the Qualidata Archive Volume FORUM: QUALITATIVE SOCIAL RESEARCH 14 (1) 2013
239
Lee. Y. J. and Roth, W. M. (2004) Making a Scientist: Discursive "Doing" of Identity and Self-Presentation During Research Interviews, Forum for Qualitative Research [online], 5, 1 (no pn). (Accessed December 2014)
Lerner, G. H. (1989) Notes on overlap management in conversation: The case of delayed completion, Western Journal of Speech Communication, 53, 2, 167-177
Luther King., (2009) Morehouse College, Martin Luther King Jr. Collection. Robert W. Woodruff Library, Atlanta University Center.
Lynch, M. (1993) Scientific Practice and Ordinary Action: Ethnomethodology and Social
Studies of Science. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press.
Malinowski, B. (1954/1925) Magic, Science and Religion. New York, Doubleday.
McIntosh, J. and McKeganey, N. (2002) Beating the Dragon: The Recovery from
Dependent Drug Use. London, Prentice Hall.
McIntosh, J. and McKeganey, N. (2000) Addicts' narratives of recovery from drug use: Constructing a Non-addict identity, Social Science and Medicine, 50, 10, 1501-1510
McIntosh, J. and McKeganey, N. (2001) Identity and recovery from dependent drug use: The addict's perspective, Drugs: Education, Prevention, and Policy, 8, 1, 47-59
Meadows, R. (2005) The 'negotiated night': an embodied conceptual framework for the sociological study of sleep, The Sociological Review, 53, 3, 240-254 Meadows, R. Arber, S. Venn, S. Hislop, J. (2008). Unruly bodies and couples’ sleep, Body & Society, 14, 4, 75-91
Meadows, R. Williams, S. Gabe, J. Coveney, C. and Arber, S. (2018) ‘The Sociology of Sleep’, In Cappuccio, F. Miller, M. Lockley, S. and Rajaratnam, S. (eds.) Sleep, Health and Society: From Aetiology to Public Health. Oxford, Oxford University Press, pp. 171-178.
Meadows, R., Nettleton, S. and Neale, J. (2017) Sleep waves and recovery from drug and alcohol dependence: Towards a rhythm analysis of sleep in a residential treatment, Social Sciences and Medicine 184, 124-133 Mol, A. (2002) The body multiple: ontology in medical practice. Durham, Duke University
Press.
Neale, J. Vitoratou, S. Lennon, P. Meadows, R. Nettleton, S. Panebianco, D. Strang, J. and Nell, W. (2014) ‘Contemporary dream beliefs and practices: A qualitative, sociological study’, South African Review of Sociology, 45, 1, 122-139 Nettleton, S Neale, J. and Pickering, L. (2011) I don’t think there’s much of a rational mind in a drug addict when they are in the thick of it: towards an embodied analysis of recovering heroin users, Sociology of Health & Illness, 33, 3, 341–355
240
Nettleton, S Neale, J. and Pickering, L. (2012) I just want to be normal’: An analysis of discourses of normality among recovering heroin users, Health, 17, 2, 174 –190 Nettleton., S. Meadows, R. and Neale, J. (2017) Disturbing sleep and sleepfulness during recovery from substance dependence in residential rehabilitation settings, Sociology of Health & Illness, 39, 5, 784-798 Parsons, T. (1968) The Structure of Social Action. New York, The Free Press. Patton, M. (2015). Qualitative researcher and evaluation methods: Integrating theory and practice. 4th edn. London. SAGE.
Perakyla, A and Bergmann, J. (2020). Practices of Joint Meaning Creation: Dreams in Psychoanalytic Discussion. The International Journal of Psychoanalysis, 101, 2, 1-36 Perakyla, A. (2005) ‘Analysing talk and text’, In Denzin, N. and Lincoln, L. (eds.) Handbook of Qualitative Research (3rd edn.). Newbury Park, Sage, pp. 869-886. Perakyla, A. (2007) ‘Conversation Analysis’, In Ritzer, G. The Blackwell Encylopedia of Sociology. Malden, Blackwell. Piccoloto, K and Szupszynski, D. (2004), Dreams and Craving in Alcohol Addicted Patients in the Detoxication Stage, Archives of Clinical Psychiatry, 31, 2, 63-69 Pivovarova, E and Stein, M, In their own words: Language preferences of individuals who use heroin, Addiction, 2019, 114, 10, 1785-1790 Pollner, M. (1987) Mundane Reason: Reality in Everyday and Sociological Reason. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Pomerantz, A. (1978) ‘Compliment responses: notes on the cooperation of multiple constraints’, In studies in the Organisation of Conversational Interaction. Jim Schenein (ed), New York. Academic Press, pp, 79-112 Pomerantz, A. (1984) ‘Agreeing and disagreeing with assessments: Some features of preferred/dispreferred turn shapes’, In Atkinson, J. M. and Heritage, J. (eds), Structures of Social Action. Cambridge, Maison des Sciences de l’Homme and Cambridge University Press, pp. 191–222. Pomerantz, A. (1986) Extreme Case Formulations: A way of legitimizing claims, Human Studies, 9, 2/3, 219-299 Pomerantz, A. and Mandelbaum, J. (2005) ‘Conversation analytic approaches to the relevance and uses of relationship categories in interaction’, In Fitch, K. L. and Sanders, R. E. (eds). Handbook of Language and Social Interaction. Mahwah, New Jersey, Lawrence Erlbaum, pp. 149–171. Potter, J. (2012b) How to Study Experience. Discourse Studies, 23, 5, 576-588
241
Potter, J and Hepburn, A. (2012a) Eight Challenges for Interview Researchers, In J. F. Gubrium and J. A Holstein (Eds) Handbook of Interview Research (2nd Edn) (pp, 555 – 570). London. Sage.
Potter, J. (1996) Representing Reality: Discourse Rhetoric and Social Construction. London, Sage. Prior, M. T. Accomplishing ‘Rapport’ in qualitative research interviews: Empathic moments in interaction. Applied Linguistics Review, 9, 4, 2017, 487-511
Psathas, G. (ed.) (1995) Everyday language: Studies in ethnomethodology. New York,
Irvington.
Rapley T (2012) The extraordinary practices of qualitative interviewing. In, Gubrium JF, Holstein J. A, Marvasti, A and McKinney, K. (eds) The Sage Handbook of Interview Research (second edition). Thousand Oaks, CA: SAGE, pp 541–554.
Rapley, T. (2004) ‘Interviews’, In, Seale C, Gobo G, Gubrium J.F. (eds) Qualitative Research Practice. London: Sage (pp. 15–32)
Rapley, T (2001b). Accounting for recreational drug use: The lived practice of qualitative research interviews. Published thesis, Goldsmith’s college, University of London. Rapley, T. (2001a) The artfulness of open-ended interviews: some considerations on analysing interviews, Qualitative Research, 1,3, 303-323 Rapley, T. (2015). ‘Questions of context: Qualitative interviews as a source of knowledge,’ In Cristian Tileagă and Elizabeth Stokoe (eds.), Discursive psychology: Classic and contemporary Issues. New York. Routledge, pp, 70–84. Raymond, G. (2003). Grammar and Social Organization: Yes/No Interrogatives and the Structure of Responding, American Sociological Review, 68, 6, 939-967
Raymond, G. and Zimmerman, D. H. (2007) Rights and Responsibilities in Calls for Help:
The Case of the Mountain Glade Fire, Research on Language and Social Interaction, 40,1,
33-61
Raymond, G. Which epistemics? Whose conversation analysis? Discourse Studies, 2018, 20, 1, 57–89
Reid, S. D. and Simeon, D. T. (2001). Progression of dreams of crack cocaine as a predictor of treatment outcome: a preliminary report. Journal of Nervous and Mental Disease, 189, 854-857
242
Robles, J. (2019) ‘Managing Category Implications of Former Drug Addiction’, conference
presentation, NCA 105th Annual Convention: Communication for Survival, University of Colorado, Baltimore, November 2019.
Rossi, G and Stivers, (2020) Category Sensitive Actions in Interaction. Social Psychology Quarterly, 84, 1, 49-74
Roulston, K. (2011a) Interview ‘Problems’ as Topics for Analysis, Applied Linguistics, 32, 1, 77-94
Roulston, K. (2011b) Working through Challenges in Doing Interview Research, International Journal of Qualitative Methods, 10, 4, 348-366
Roulston, K. (2016), Issues involved in methodological analyses of research interviews. Qualitative Research Journal, 16, 1, 68-79
Sacks, H. (1979), ‘Hotrodder: a revolutionary category’, Sacks In Psathas, G. (ed) Everyday Language: Studies in Ethnomethodology. New York, Irvington, pp. 7–14. Sacks, H. (1984) ‘On doing ‘being ordinary’, In Atkinson, M. J. and Heritage, J. (eds), Structures of Social Action. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, pp. 413–429. Sacks, H. (1992) Lectures on conversation. 2 vols. Edited by Gail Jefferson with introductions by Emanuel A. Schegloff. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. Sacks, H. Schegloff, E. A. and Jefferson, G. (1974) A Simplest Systematics for the Organisation of Turn-Taking for Conversation, Language 50, 4i, 696-735 Schegloff, E. A. (1991) ‘Conversation Analysis and Socially Shared Cognition’, In Resnick, L. Levine, J. and Teasley, S (eds). Perspectives on Socially Shared Cognition. Washington, American Psychological Association, pp. 150-171. Schegloff, E. A. (1991). Repair After Next Turn: The Last Structurally Provided Defense of Intersubjectivity in Conversation, American Journal of Sociology, 97, 5, 1295–1345 Schegloff, E. A. (1992). ‘Introduction’, In Sacks, H. Lectures on Conversation, Volume 1. Oxford, Blackwell, pp. ix–lxii. Schegloff, E. A. (1996), Confirming Allusions: Toward an Empirical Account of Action, American Journal of Sociology, 102, 1, 161–216 Schegloff, E. A. (1997), Practices and actions: boundary cases of other-initiated repair, Discourse Processes, 23, 3, 499–545 Schegloff, E. A. (1999) Schegloff's texts” as “Billig's data: a critical reply, Discourse and Society, 10, 4, 558–572 Schegloff, E. A. (2007b) Categories in action: Person-reference and membership categorization, Discourse Studies, 9, 4, 433–461
243
Schegloff, E. and Sacks, H. (1973). Opening up closings. Semiotica, 8, 4, 289–327 Schegloff, Ε. Α. (2007a) A tutorial on membership categorization, Journal of Pragmatics 39, 3, 462–482 Schubert, S. Hansen, S. Dyer, K. and Rapley, M. (2009) ADHD patient’ or ‘illicit drug user’? Managing medico-moral membership categories in drug dependence services, Discourse and Society, 20, 4, 499-516
Seale, C. (1998) ‘Qualitative interviewing’, In, Researching Society and Culture. C. Seale
(ed.). London. Sage.
Sharrock, W. (1974) ‘On owning knowledge, In, Ethnomethodology: Selected Readings. Roy, Turner (ed). Harmondsworth. Penguin, pp 45-53. Sharrock, W, and Anderson, R (2017). Has Ethnomethodology run its course? Online Publication, accessed at: www.sharrockandanderson.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2019/10/Run-its-Course-VII.pdf Sidnell, J. (2005) Talk and Practical Epistemology. The Social Life of Knowledge in a Caribbean Community. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Sidnell, J. (2017) Action in interaction is conduct under a description, Language in Society, 46, 3, 313-337 Silva, T.R. and Nappo, S. A. (2019). Crack cocaine and dreams: the view of users. Ciênc. saúde coletiva [online] 24, 3) 1091-1099 Silverman, D. (1998) Harvey Sacks: Social Science and Conversation Analysis. Oxford, Policy Press. Silverman, D. (2004). Qualitative Research: Theory, Method and Practice. London. Sage Publications. Silverman, D. (2017) How was it for you? The Interview Society and the Irresistible rise of the (poorly analysed) interview, Qualitative Research, 17, 2, 144-158
Smith, D. (1978) ‘K’ is Mentally Ill: The Anatomy of a Factual Account, Sociology 12, 1, 23-
53
Sório, N.V.S. Schiefelbein, C. S. Balbinot, A.D. Santos, P.L. and Araujo, R. B. (2016). Dreams and craving in crack/cocaine addicted patients in the detoxication stage. Aletheia, 49, 23-24
Steinig, J, Foraita, R, Happe, S and Heinze, M. Perception of sleep and dreams in alcohol
dependent patients during detoxification and abstinence. Alcohol, 2011, 46, 2, 143-7
244
Stivers, T. (2008). Stance, Alignment, and Affiliation During Storytelling: When Nodding Is a Token of Affiliation, Research on Language & Social Interaction, 41,1, 31-57 Stivers, T and Hayashi, M. Transformative answers: One way to resist a question’s constraints, Language in Society 2010, 39, 1 -25
Stivers, T. Mondada, L and Steensig, J. (eds.). (2011) The Morality of Knowledge in
Conversation. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press.
Stokoe, E. (2012a) Moving forward with membership categorization analysis: Methods for systematic analysis, Discourse Studies, 14, 3, 277-303 Stokoe, E. (2012b) Categorial systematics, Discourse Studies, 14, 3, 345-354
Stokoe, E. (2018) Talk: The Science of Conversation. Hachette UK.
Stokoe, E. and Attenborough, F. (2015) ‘Prospective and Retrospective Categorisation: Category Proffers and Inferences, in Social Interaction and Rolling News Media’, In Stokoe, E. and Edwards, D. (2009) ‘Mundane morality in familial neighbourhood disputes’, In Comdal, J. and Tholander, M. (eds) Children, Morality and Interaction. London, Equinox. Stokoe, E. and Edwards, D. (2015) ’Mundane morality: Gender, categories and complaints in familial neighbour disputes’, Journal of Applied Linguistics and Professional Practice, 9, 165-192 Stokoe, E. H. (2010) "Have you been married, or?" Eliciting and accounting for relationship histories in speed-dating encounters, Research on Language and Social Interaction, 43, 3, 260-282 Strachey, J. (1953/2010) Sigmund Freud: The Interpretation of dreams, the complete and definitive text. New York, Basic Books. Tanguay H., Zadra A., Good D., & Leri, F. (2017). Relationship Between Drug Dreams, Affect, and Craving During Treatment for Substance Dependence. Journal of Addiction Medicine, 9, 2, 123-9 Tileaga, C. (2012) The right measure of guilt: Moral reasoning, transgression and the social construction of moral meanings, Discourse and Communication, 6, 2, 203-222 Tracey, K and Robles, J. S. (2010) Challenges of Interviewers' Institutional Positionings: Taking Account of Interview Content and the Interaction, Communication Methods and Measures, 4, 3,177-200 University of Surrey Ethics Policy (2017) available at https://www.surrey.ac.uk/sites/default/files/ethics-policy.pdf (Accessed 27th February 2020)
245
University of York Code of practice and principles for good ethical governance (n d) available at https://www.york.ac.uk/staff/research/governance/research-policies/ethics-code/ (Accessed 27th February 2020) Vann, B. and Alperstein, N. (1997) Star gazing: A socio‐cultural approach to the study of dreaming about media figures, Communication Quarterly, 45, 3, 142-152 Vann, B. and Alperstein, N. (2000) ‘Dream Sharing as Social Interaction’, Dreaming 10, 2, 111-119 Vann, B. and Alperstein, N., (1994) “Towards a Sociology of Dreaming” paper presented to the 11th Annual Conference of the Association of the Study of Dreams. Leiden, Holland. Vester, H. (1993) Sex, Sacredness and Structure: Contributions to the Sociology of Collective Dreams, Symbolic Interaction, 16, 2, 106-116 Wagner-Pacifici, R. and Bershady H, I. (1993) ‘Portents or Confessions: Authoritative Readings of a Dream Text, Symbolic Interaction, 16, 2, 129-143 Watson, D. R. (1981) ‘Conversational and organisational uses of proper names: an aspect of counsellor-client interaction’, In Atkinson, P. and Heath, C. (eds), Medical Work: Realities and Routines. Farnborough, Gower, pp. 91–106. Watson, R. (1997). ‘Some general reflections on ‘categorization’ and ‘sequence’ in the analysis of conversation’, In Hester, S. and Eglin, P. (eds) Culture in Action: Studies in Membership Categorization Analysis. Maryland, University Press of America, pp. 49-77.
Watson, R. (2015), ‘De-Reifiying Categories’, In Advances in Membership Categorisation
Analysis. Fitzgerald, R. and Housley, W. (eds.), London, Sage, pp. 23-50.
West, C. and Zimmerman, D. H. (1987) Doing gender, Gender & Society, 1, 2, 125–151
Wetherell, M. (1998) Positioning and interpretative repertoires: Conversation analysis
and post-structuralism in dialogue, Discourse and Society, 9, 387-412
Wetherell, M. and Potter, J. (1988) ‘Discourse analysis and the identification of interpretive repertoires’ In, Antaki, C. (ed) Analysing everyday experience: A casebook of methods. London, Sage, pp.168-183.
White, W. (2007) Addiction recovery: its definition and conceptual boundaries, Journal
of Substance Abuse Treatment, 33, 3, 229-241
Whitehead, K. and Baldry, K. (2018) ‘Omnirelevant and contingent membership categories in research interview and focus group openings’, Qualitative Research, 18, 2, 135-152 Widdicombe, S. (2017) The delicate business of identity, Discourse Studies, 19, 4, 460-478 (also open access, pp. 1 – 28)
246
Widdicombe, S. and Wooffitt, R. (1995) The Language of Youth Subcultures: Social
Identity in Action. London, Harvester Wheatsheaf.
Wilkinson, S and Kitzinger, C. Surprise as an Interactional Resource: Reaction Tokens in Conversation, Social Psychology Quarterly, 69, 2, 150-182
Williams S. Meadows, R. and Arber S. (2010) ‘Sociology of Sleep’, In Cappuccio, F. Miller, M. and Lockley, S. (eds) Sleep Epidemiology. Oxford, Oxford University Press.
Williams, S. and Boden, S. (2004) Consumed With Sleep? Dormant Bodies in Consumer Culture, Sociological Research Online, vol. 9, 2, (no pn)
Williams, S. Coveney, C. Meadows, R. (2015) ‘M-apping Sleep Trends and Transformations in the Digital Age’, Sociology of Health and Illness, 37, 7, 1039-1054
Williams, S. J. (2002) Sleep and Health: Sociological reflections on the dormant society, Health 6, 2, 173-200
Williams, S. J. (2005) Sleep and society: Sociological ventures into the (un)known. New York, Routledge.
Williams, S. J. (2007) The social etiquette of sleep: some sociological reflections and observations, Sociology, 41, 2, 313–28 Williams, S. J. (2011) The politics of sleep: governing (un) consciousness in the late modern age. London, Palgrave Macmillan. Wiseman, R. (2011) ‘Can Dreams predict the future?’, The Guardian Online, 22nd February, (no pn) Wooffitt, R. (1991) ‘I was just doing X when Y’: Some inferential properties of a device in accounts of paranormal experiences, Text, 11, 2, 267-288 Wooffitt, R. (1992) Telling Tales of the Unexpected: The organisation of factual discourse. Harvester, Wheatsheaf. Wooffitt, R. (2005). Conversation Analysis and Discourse Analysis: A Comparative and Critical Introduction. London, Sage. Wunder, D. (1993) Dreams as Empirical Data: Siblings’ dreams and fantasies about their disabled Sisters and Brothers, Symbolic Interaction 16, 2, 117-127
Yang, L. Wong, L. Grivel, M. and Hasin, D. (2017). Stigma and substance use disorders: an
Zimmerman, D, H. and Pollner, M. (1970) ‘The everyday world as phenomenon’, In Douglas, J. D. (ed) Understanding Everyday Life: Towards a Reconstruction of Sociological Knowledge. Chicago, Aldine Publishing, pp. 80-103.
247
Appendix A: Sample consent form for dream dataset.
Consent Form for participants: Contact details: Lorraine Allibone, University of Surrey, Department of Sociology. Email l.c.allibone@surrey.ac.uk Phone: -------------
• I the undersigned voluntarily agree to take part in the study titled: A sociological analysis of dream talk
• I have read and understood the Information Sheet provided. I have been given a full explanation by the investigator of the nature, purpose, and likely duration of the study and of what I will be expected to do.
• I have been advised about the content of the interview and have been given the opportunity to ask questions about all aspects of the study.
• I have understood the advice and information given to me about the study.
• I understand that all my personal data is held and processed in the strictest confidence, and in accordance with the Data Protection Act (1998).
• I agree to use of my data for the study and any other written outputs based upon it, on the understanding that my anonymity will be preserved.
• I understand that I am free to withdraw from the study at any time without needing to justify my decision and without prejudice.
• I confirm that I have read and understood the information sheet relating to this study and freely consent to participate.
Name of Participant ________________________________________
Date _____________________________
Signature __________________________________
Name of Researcher ________________________________________
Date _____________________________
Signature __________________________________
248
Appendix B: Sample consent form for sleep dataset.
INFORMED CONSENT FORM
Title of Project: Sleep during recovery from drug and alcohol dependence: a sociological study of embodied change.
Name of Researchers: Sarah Nettleton and Rob Meadows
Contact Details: Sarah Nettleton, Department of Sociology, University of York,
YO10 5DD (Tel: 01904 323062) sjn2@york.ac.uk and Rob Meadows, Department of
Sociology, University of Surrey, University of Surrey Guildford, Surrey, GU2 7X (Tel:
01483 68 6984) r.meadows@surrey.ac.uk
Please initial box
1. I confirm that I have read and understand the information sheet for the
above study and that I have had the opportunity to ask questions.
2. I understand that my participation in the study is voluntary and that I am
free to withdraw at any time, without giving a reason and without my treatment,
care or legal rights being affected.
3. I agree to the interview with me being audio-recorded.
4. I agree that any data collected about me as part of the study may be used,
anonymously, in the presentation of the research.
5. I agree to the use of anonymous quotations in the presentation of the
research.
6. I agree to take part in the above study.
Name of Participant Date Signature
Name of Researcher Date Signature
One copy to be kept by the participant; one by the researcher; one in residents file.
249
Appendix C: Participant Information Sheet for the dream dataset.
Project Title: A sociological analysis of dream talk
Information Sheet for Participants: The aim of this study is to find out how people talk about their dreams and the researcher’s interest is in how dreams are described within the context of a research interview. If you agree to participate you will be interviewed and the interview will be digitally recorded and transcribed (typed up). The researcher will then examine the transcript to identify recurrent themes, topics, phrases and other interactional methods that are used to talk about dreams. The questions that will be asked during the interview will be available for you to read before you consent to participate and you are strongly encouraged to ask the researcher any questions you may have about the research, the interview and how your data will be treated before agreeing to proceed. Please note that the questions provided will be used to guide the interview and additional questions may be asked in relation to what is discussed within the interview. If you do agree to participate in the study, there are some procedures and ethical considerations that you should be aware of before it can take place.
1. A consent form must be signed by you and the researcher. 2. All data produced during the study will be stored securely and treated as confidential, and
only the researcher will have access to the raw data (digital recording). 3. Parts of your interview may be referred to when the researcher writes reports assignments or
published work that is based on the study. 4. Any material used in written outputs will be anonymised to protect your identity. 5. You are free to leave the study or withdraw your data at any point of the process. This includes
during the interview. 6. You do not have to provide a reason for withdrawing from the research. 7. If you do decide to leave the study, all data collected from you will be destroyed or given to
you for disposal. 8. You do not have to answer any questions that you feel uncomfortable with, including those
that are asked as a result of what is discussed in the interview. 9. Any complaints or concerns about the way you have been dealt with during the course of the
study will be addressed, Please contact the researcher’s Supervisor, Dr Christine Hine. Email: c.hine@surrey.ac.uk, phone: ------------ who will discuss the issue with you and consider whether any further action needs to be taken.
10. Participation in this research will not be linked to your work or studies at the university.
250
Appendix D: Participant Information Sheet for the sleep dataset.
RESEARCH PARTICIPANT INFORMATION SHEET
Title of Project: Sleep during recovery from drug and alcohol dependence: a sociological study of embodied change.
Name of Researchers: Sarah Nettleton and Rob Meadows
Contact Details: Sarah Nettleton, Department of Sociology, University of
York, YO10 5DD sjn2@york.ac.uk (Tel: 01904 323062) and Rob Meadows,
Department of Sociology, University of Surrey, University of Surrey Guildford,
Surrey, GU2 7X r.meadows@surrey.ac.uk (Tel: 01483 68 6984)
Introduction
You are being invited to take part in a study about men and women’s experiences of sleep when they are living in residential treatment centres. Before you decide whether or not to take part, it is important that you understand why the research is being done and what it will involve. Please read the following information carefully and feel free to ask us any questions. Take time to decide whether or not you wish to take part.
What is the purpose of the study?
Previous research carried out by members of the research team has found that sleep was a problematic, but largely overlooked, issue for people seeking to overcome dependence on drugs. Feedback on these findings from service users and treatment providers has since indicated that sleep during recovery from drug and alcohol dependence requires further investigation. There are studies that have explored the physical aspects of sleep, addiction, detoxification and recovery; yet there is very little research on the social aspects of this topic. For example, we do not know how recovering drug users' and drinkers' sleep is affected by their day-to-day lives, personal backgrounds, relationships and emotions, or how their sleeping changes over time and when they are in different settings.
The aim of this research is therefore to better understand how people in recovery from dependence on alcohol and other drugs manage their sleep, and which, if any, factors help or hinder their sleeping.
Why have I been chosen?
You have been chosen because you are a client at a residential treatment centre and are undergoing support and care to overcome dependence on drugs or alcohol.
Do I have to take part?
Nobody has to take part in the study. Taking part is entirely voluntary and you would be free to withdraw at any point. Refusing to take part would not affect the help you are currently receiving nor from any other service now or in the future.
What would happen if I agreed to take part?
If you decided to take part, you would be asked to sign a consent form. You would then be given a copy of the signed consent form and this information sheet to keep.
251
After that, we would ask you to wear an actigraph – The actiwatch is a watch-like device that is worn on the wrist and records whether or not a person is moving. They are un-intrusive, and can record information per minute for long periods of time. We would arrange an interview that should take about 90 minutes. During the interview, we would ask you to tell us a bit about yourself and your circumstances; your current and previous experiences of sleeping, your drug and/or alcohol use; your daily routines and activities; and your thoughts about the future. The interviews would take place in the residential centre where you are currently staying in a place where privacy can be assured, and at a time that is conducive to you and your daily schedule.
What are the benefits of taking part?
Your help in this study would be beneficial for the research. Our aim is to provide new information on how people manage their sleep during recovery from dependence on drugs and alcohol. Having more information on sleep during treatment could help us to better understand recovery processes and that could benefit a wide range of people, such as other drug users and drinkers, their family members, service providers, and health care professionals. We would give you a £15 supermarket voucher for participation.
What are the disadvantages of taking part?
We would ask that you wear an actiwatch on your wrist for one week. You might consider this to be intrusive. We would also ask you to think about your sleeping which might prompt you to dwell on issues that you might not otherwise have given thought too. We will take up an hour or so of your time.
Is the research confidential?
All information collected about you during the course of the study would be kept strictly confidential. If you disclosed details of a very serious crime, such as one involving children, we would have to report this to an appropriate agency. However, we would not ask about particular crimes and you should not answer any question you feel unhappy about. If you indicated serious risk of suicide or self-harm we would also have to report this to appropriate services.
What will happen to the results of the study?
We will distribute the findings from the study in research papers, reports, presentations and leaflets. Anonymised data from the study will also be stored securely so that they can be used by other bona fide researchers. No individual will be identified in any publications arising from the research. This is because anything you say or do would be made totally anonymous and information about you would be grouped with information about others so that your identity would be completely hidden.
Who has reviewed the study?
This research has been reviewed by experts in the drug field as part of the funding process. It is funded the British Academy which is an independent organisation that supports research in the social sciences. The research has also been assessed by the University of York ethics committee.
252
If any issues arise that you are not happy about as a result of your participation in the research and you want to complain you may speak to any of the staff in the centre. Alternatively you can contact the Chair of the University of York Research Ethics Committee Professor Lucia Quaglia her email address is lucia.quaglia@york.ac.uk.
If you require further details about the research or want to take part, please
contact:
Professor Sarah Nettleton, Department of Sociology, University of York, YO10
5DD sjn2@york.ac.uk
Dr Robert Meadows, Department of Sociology, University of Surrey,
University of Surrey Guildford, Surrey, GU2 7X r.meadows@surrey.ac.uk
Dr Joanne Neale, Addictions Department, Institute of Psychiatry, King's
College London, 4 Windsor Walk, London SE5 8AF joanne.neale@kcl.ac.uk
Thank you for reading this.
253
Appendix E: Interview schedule for the dream dataset
Interview schedule/topic guide for study of dream talk.
1. Do you ever have any dreams that you remember?
2. Approximately how often do you dream?
3. Do you ever have recurrent dreams?
4. Did you dream as a child?
5. Do you ever talk to anyone about your dreams?
6. Who do you talk to about your dreams?
7. Is there anyone you would not talk to about your dreams?
8. Are there any topics that you dream about but would not tell others?
9. Is there anything in particular that prompts you to talk to others about your dreams?
10. When you talk to others about dreams, how does it become part of the conversation?
11. What kinds of dreams do you have?
12. Do you think dreams ever relate to real life experiences?
13. Can you tell me about any recent (or any) dreams you have had?
254
Appendix F: Interview schedule for the sleep dataset
DRAFT IDEAS FOR SLEEP INTERVIEWS
BRITISH ACADEMY/LEVERHULME
STUDY OF SLEEP DURING RESIDENTIALTREATMENT FOR DEPENDENCE
ON ALCOHOL AND DRUGS
Confidentiality
Informed consent form
Diagram
Present a blank A3 piece of paper (landscape). Draw a line across. Add a line down on the
far right and mark in ‘now’; add a line one the far left and mark it ‘child’ [or something].
Explain that we are going to have a general chat about sleep across this line and we will use it
to jot things down.
It would be useful for me to get some details now before we chat. Can we mark a line for
when you started using drugs/alcohol. Can we mark a line for any periods of detox and
recovery.
1. SLEEP PRIOR TO ENTERING THE CENTRE So let’s start around here (far
left)
• What for you would be a ‘good’ sleep (what was that like?)
• Longer term sleeping (can you recall as a child, periods of ‘good’ sleeping / ‘poor’
sleep?)
• Feelings about going to bed
• Prior to use of drugs/alcohol
• Ever experienced sleeping too much (e.g. when depressed or too little)
• What is ‘enough’ sleep for you? (variations e.g, if working etc)
• Impact of not enough sleep?
Adapt to the line [what about this period – as there may be more than one rehab?]
Then move to Short term:
• Where/when did you sleep prior to coming here? (previous month /previous year) •
Who with?
• Was it a problem – in what ways and why?
• Did you ever have a ‘typical nights’ sleep?
• Any strategies for getting to sleep and sleeping
255
2. CURRENT AND RECENT SLEEPING (during past couple of weeks)
Impact of detox
• Physical effects (sweats, nausea, diarrhoea, loss of appetite, shivering, cramps and
aches, sleeplessness)
• Physical sensation: sensitively to temperature, touch, light, sound etc • Cravings?
Physical?
• Emotional effects (depression, feelings, visualisation of use)
• Changes over first 1-2 weeks of stopping using
• Bodily functions/changes
Discuss actigraphy data output and sleep diary Sleep / rest patterns during night
• Getting to sleep, waking in night
• Morning – time awake, rested? refreshed? sleepy
• Night-time activity (e.g. radio, thinking, drinks, toilet)
• Night physical sensations –(pain, fatigue, craving, memories, anxiety/distress)
• Thoughts? During wakefulness
• Anxieties? Emotions
• Dreams
• Factors that may have shaped these sleep patterns
Describe a typical night?
Describe a relatively ‘good’ night? (what if anything helped?)
Describe a relatively ‘bad’ night? (what if anything hindered?)
Activities during the day (reading through the other interviews this seems to come up during their talk about night-time)
• Rest
• Day time naps
• Exercise (work related, leisure)
• Day light/fresh air
• Food/drink/tea/coffee
Prospect of night/sleep
• Fear it – anxiety about being awake? Dreams? Flashbacks?
• Look forward to it
Impact residential routines
• Imposed and/or negotiated
• Personal routines, patterns, strategies?
256
3. PHYSICAL ENVRIONMENT Bedroom details
• Shared room/presence of room mate
• Bed/pillow/bed temperature
• Furnishings/ light
• Noise/quiet
4. HELP WITH SLEEP
• Advice – from professionals/service
• Practical help/support?
5. INTERACTION OF DRUGS/ALCOHOL ON SLEEP
• Do you think that use and dependence of alcohol/drugs are connected? (a very open
question on this could be interesting?) - Ever use to help get to sleep?
6. FUTURE SLEEP
• Have sleeping patterns changed since coming to this centre? (anything learned for the
future)
• Looking ahead what changes would you like to see in the future for your sleep patterns?
• What do you think could help/hinder sleep patterns in the future?
• Help factors
Prompts: family, domestic arrangements, job
• Hinder factors
Prompts: family, domestic arrangements, job homelessness, drug using partner, filling time, loneliness
• Variations between contexts (e.g. household, worry, illness, in paid work, caring
responsibilities, shift work?
• Strategies to help sleep – drugs, medication, routines, exercise
• Hopes and aspirations for the future: reality / ideal world
7. IMPORTANT ISSUES ON SLEEP THAT WE HAVEN’T ASKED YOU ABOUT
Interview Background Data
Interview ID
Interviewer
Date / time, location of
Interview (e.g. office,
café, bedroom)
Date of birth
257
Gender
Relationship partner etc
Children
Education
Paid employment?
Date entered current
residential setting
Living circumstances prior
to entering current
residential centre
Previous residential
treatment
Current medication
Physical / mental Health / illness status
Any formal diagnsoses?
Mode of referral: self, GP, other?
258
Appendix G: Jefferson Transcription notation
From Hepburn & Bolden (2017) and adapted from Jefferson (2004).
Symbols with examples Name Use =
L: okay I’m gonna start by asking
.hhh pt do you ever >have any
dre:ams that you remem::ba<.=
O: =yeah. >all the time<
Equal sign End of TCU with no gap/pause between
it and the next TCU
(0.8)
yeah(0.3)
Timed
seconds
Time between the end of one utterance
and start of the next
(.)
so(.)fri(he)ghteningly bizarre
Micropause
of 0.2
seconds or
less
Brief pause of less than 0.2 seconds
Word
and I’m not planning
Underlining
Stress or emphasis
. or Twe::lve I was
Period or
downward
arrow
Falling pitch
? or
Twe::lve I was
Question
mark or
upward
arrow
Rising pitch
-
y- y- you remember
Hyphen Abrupt halt or cut off
>text<
yeah. >all the time<
Right/left
carats
Increased speaking rate
<text>
<that certain age and I think it
was about>
Left/right
carats
Decreased speaking rate
°speech°
°no problem with this°
Degree
symbol
Reduced volume
°°speech°°
°°okay°°
Double
degree
symbols
Whisper
SPEECH
OH FAMILY
Capitalised
text
Increased volume by speaker that is
louder than their surrounding talk
W::rd
d’you ever have us::ing dreams.
Colon(s) Prolonged vowel or consonant
hhh
hhh I know I’ve been dre::amin
Aspiration Audible out-breathes
.hhh Aspiration Audible in-breaths
259
.hhh yeah
(text)
(unclear)
Parenthesis Speech that is unclear in the
recording
((text))
((writing noise))
Double
parenthesis
Transcriber’s comments of non-
verbal activity
.
yeah.
Period Indicates falling intonation
£
£it was something to do with him£
Pound sign Indicates smiley voice
[]
[yeah]
[okay]
Square
brackets
Indicates overlapping speech
W(he)ord
fri(he)ghteningly
Bracketed
he or h(s)
Indicates breathiness or laughter
while talking
260
Appendix H: Thesis Extracts
Full transcripts are included for extracts in which lines were omitted for analytical
purposes in the empirical chapters.
Extract 3.1: SD1: Trisha
1. Int: okay .hh so (0.4)you think that might be linked up
2. with your sleep do y- o::r you because your dre::ams
3. se- a seem to >really< ha- have religious .hhh=
4. T: =yeah [they er ]
5. Int: [y’know l]ike you were saying about >you’dhave to
6. get married to the Devil< sort of thing .HH kinda
7. IS THAT WHAT YOU MEANT when you said ab[out.]=
8. T: =[yeah]yeah
9. an then the other night [I I h]ad (.)erm adre::am=
10. Int: [mhmm ]
11. T: =>.hh it was my mum but it wasn’t my [mum]<(.)
12. Int: [mmm]
13. T: [an ]she’d say sorry your dad’s not your dad=
14. Int: [mmm]
15. T: =and .hh(0.4)in the dream he: was my dad
16. T: an she wanted me to go an se[e hi]m but(.)=
17. Int: [okay]
18. T: =an I used to pu- manage to pul[l myself=]
19. Int: [mmm yeah ]
20. T: =out of the dream en I was so glad .hh
21. that I(he)managed .hh to get out of the room as well=
22. Int: =okay yeah ye::ah
Extract 4.1: SD9: Annie
1. IR: .hhh do you ha::ve e:rm using dreams at all.=
2. A: =.hh e::rm na- I ha- .hh not(0.6).hh the last one >I was
3. in pris::on< an that was like(.)hor[rific]
4. IR: (([coughs]))
5. A: since I bin ere(.)a no
Extract 4.2: SD3: Katie
1. I: .hhh d’you ever have(.)u::sing dre:ams.=
2. K: ((sniffs))mmmm(2.5)occa::sionally(.)mm
3. I: =oh m and(0.4)is (.)th- the is >that something 4. you’ve always< ha::d.(.)when you’ve been in re-
5. recovery s[ta::g]es.=
6. K: =[e:::r] no I don’t av em a lo::t
Extract 4.3: SD2: Patricia
1. IR: so:: .hhhh (0.3) >d’you ever have us::ing dreams.<=
2. P: =(0.4)hhh yeah[(.)]
3. IR: [st]ill.((rustling paper))=
4. P: =-ye::ah y- a- n >listen I’ve been nearly ni::ne years
261
5. clean and so::ber< in the past .hhh an I’ve ad
6. usin dreams even [then=]
7. IR: [yeah ]
8. =I me-(.)but nine years .hh you’ve never had a block
9. of nine years have you.=
10. P: =y[e::ah]
11. IR: [cos t]hat was Oh HAVE YOU. what[period ]was that.=
12. P: =[nearly] nine years
13. phhss ah that’d be er(unclear)tell you that THat’s
14. where I went to Pri:son went to pris- (.) ang on no
15. it was the time when I went to Eastbourne >when I
16. went to Eastbourne< I had nine years .hhh=
17. IR: =okay
Extract 4.4: SD6: Justin
1. R: (.) e::rm and eh y’[kno]w d- wha- you=
2. J: [mmm]
3. R: =just said eh there >was interestin because< it (unclear)
4. was >really really useful< .hhh chatting to you
5. so THank you very much=
6. J: =Erm .hhh yeah ju- wa- >one one more thing< as well’s
7. that uhm (sniffs) .hh I I definitely notice that when I’m
8. Usi::ng (.)uh DRugs >of any kind< or dri:nking .HH that
9. I don’t dre::am .)nearly [as m]uch (.)I dream [Mut]ch=
10. R: [e:rm] [aha]
11. J: =mo::re when I’m (.) e:rm when I’m sober m- yeah=
12. R: =okay
Extract 4.5:SD10: TJ
1. SN: .hh so as a child then y- y- you remember(.)you say you
2. went to bed quite (.) e regular ti::mes.=
3. TJ: =yeah
4. SN: n y- did that .hh as you became a teenager did that
5. change in terms of getting up in the mornings and so on.=
6. TJ: =well cos I had a >older brother< Steve::n (.) he was a
7. year older than me:: an my dad always said .hhh that e he
8. was allowed an ec- hour extra:=
9. SN: hmm
10. TJ =until I got to that certain age and I think it was about
11. Twe::lve I was (.) allowed up until ten o’clock but as
12. before I had to go to bed at nine o’clock=
13. SN: hmmm ((sniffs))
14. TJ: =an mm (0.3) yeah but that was y’know that was the: bed
15. time ten o’clock (.)ten o’clock(.)until I was sixtEE:n=
16. SN: =oh
17. (0.6)
18. TJ: and I’ve never really had a problem wiv like
19. going to sleep (0.4) Yeah so I THINK >when
20. I started USi::n< (0.4)it was it
21. was jst(.)pfff it was all over the place (.)
22. en I started NOT dreamin at a:ll when I was usin=
262
23. SN: mmm
Extract 4.6: SD5: Callie
1. R: an then du- ri- that that >sortof< the sleep latency as
2. we may s- yeah you f[el]l asleep w- would anythinghappen=
3. C: [mm]
4. R: =during the Ni::ght. W- did you >sortof< wake up.[At all=]
5. C: [.hh NO]
6. R: =on the cannabis.
7. C: =and also re::ally >hh er::m >something that I really
8. liked< Abou:t (.) th- the cannabis as well
9. is that I didn’t dre::am AT all
Extract 4.7: S11: Maria
1. SN: WELL you were saying at this period (.) I think in
2. CHILdhood you had (0.3) erm (.) er::m .hh I think you talk
3. about dreams and childhood weren’t you. .h[h sorrycan’t=]
4. P: [we- I was but]
5. SN: =Oh no maybe NOT .hhhss maybe it was later on (.)
6. it was at some point you said you had were having them=
7. P: =I thi- I was in DEtox that I wh- I fir- when I
8. last went to [deto]x that I when I was detoxin I ad(.)=
9. S: [OKAY]
10. =some CRA::ZY[dreams(.4) yeah] yeah in the first t-=
11. SN: [that was detox.]
12. P: =two munfs of like .HHH gettin clean like bein off th-
13. off the drugs en .hh getting to like normal life
Extract 4.8: SD8: Jonnie
1. J: are you >interested< in dre::ms.=
2. R: =absolutely (.)[abs]o]lutely
3. J: [ER::M]
4. (0.9)
5. J: very vivid dre::mss throughout my LIfe apart
6. from in the period .hhh (0.6) probly between there
7. and there =((referring to chart))
8. R: =okay so just >sortof< (0.[3) >sortof< .HHH]
9. J: [I’t thirty six t]o forty=
10. R: =yeah yep
11. J: .HHHH .Hhhh m- >can’t remember my dreams<=
12. R: =okay
13. J: I CAn’t remember any dreams at all .hh that feature .HHH
14. E::rr e- u- (0.4) there to the:::re =((referring to chart))
15. R: °two point five to [(unclear) ]
16. J: [to coming here].HH I know I’ve
17. been dreaming but if you (.) hhh >I know I’ve been
18. dreaming but I can’t remember the dre::ams< themselves=
19. R: =yeah
20. J: erm in my reCOVERY (.) I’m beginning (0.3) I- I’m h >it
21. is< .hhh they’re more vi[vid you] ask me what I dreamed=
22. R: [oh okay]
263
23. =of last ni::ght I can’t pa[rtic]ularly BUT I- I know=
24. R: [yeah]
25. =that I dreamt=
26. R: =yeah
27. J: a- an I know that if you’d asked me .hhhh (.) a second
28. after I got u::P (.) to say what did you dream about I
29. can remember but I haven’t consciously .hhh (.) >retained
30. it<=
31. R: =ye::ah .h an is that something that i- is good.is it
32. Err .hh y’[know is it = ]
33. J: [=yeah y eeeeee] yes I HAVen’t had bad (.) well
34. .h it is i- >for some reason I don’t know why< but it’s
35. erm >quite refreshing< (0.3)to know that (.) I’ve been
36. DREAMing=
37. R: =yeah
38. (0.6)
39. J: pres- presumably you’re ALWays dre::aming ss hhh (.)
40. .HHHH °I assume you’re always dreaming° but e::rm (.3)
41. yeah so I- I can I can remember these >HEAlthy dre:ams<
42. actually .HH not eh .h touch wood ((touching table
43. noise)) not n- no nightmares .[HHHHH ] E::rm but=
44. R: [yeah.]
45. =tha- that has ch- my my SLEEP (0.7) my (.) dreams
46. HAve become >more vivid< en I know that I’ve been
47. dreaming SINce >I’ve been in recovery<
Extract 5.1: DD2: Isabel (I) and Chloe (C)
1. L: okay .hh I’m gonna come back to something we said a
2. while ago:: which ws (.) about .hhh having good
3. d[re:]:ams.=
4. C: [hmm]
5. L: =so:: (.) >let’s talk about that a little bit< °cos we(.)
6. moved on t- something else° .hhhh
7. C: co- cos >my good dreams are in a way< cos I’ve injoyed
8. what’s gone on ha .h in my dre:ams .hh an (.) it was
9. >sort of like< a nice experie::nce an a [nice=]
10. I: [mmm ]
11. C: =because I s’pose dreams are just sortof memories when
12. you wake up becoos (0.3) it feels as though you’ve
13. experienced (.) .hh those thi:ngs >but rea:lly it’s
14. just in your imagination< n so that (.) memory then
15. seems like a ni::ce (.) good thing that’s(.)
16. [happened=]
17. I: [happened ]
18. L: en can you remember any (.) n[ice. = ]
19. C: [no. ehe]he .hhh sorry
20. [I ca::n’t =]
21. L: [=no its’ ok]ay no no that’s fine.= (unclear)
22. I: =you do dream quite a lot about our wedding
23. (0.4)
24. C: I di:d didn’t I.=
25. I: mmmmm
26. C: =but I was dreamin like in fa- <that I was wearing my
264
27. pink dre::ss< that I wore to my e:rm (.)aunt an uncle’s
28. wedding hh >a couple of years ago< .hhh an >I didn’t
29. wanna be wea(he)rin(h)it uh e=
30. L: [ahehehe ]
31. C: [(giggles)]
32. L: =so that wa::sn’t a good dream then.
Extract 5.2: DD:7: Jemima
1. L: okay e::rm .hhh so I’m gonna come back to something you
2. me- mentioned earlier (.)hh which is eh wh- h- how
3. .hhh >you think dre:ams relatid to real life.<=
4. J: =e::rm >okay well last night< I dreamt that
5. I was in la::bour(he)and(he)I have no(h[e)chi]ldre::n=
6. L: [ahhe]
7. J: =and I’m not planning to have >any in re(he)al life<
Extract 5.3: DD:4: Georgina
1. L: is this >kinda makin you refle:ct< on .hhh (.)
2. thi::ngs >jst the interview itse::lf.<=
3. G: =yea::h OH s m n[o::w.] re[flec]t on YEAH I’spose=
4. L: [yeah ] [yeah]
5. G: =cus you’re a:sking me questions like (.) y’kno::w have I
6. uh >do I know about dream theories< .hhh en (.) >do I
7. kno::w abou:t certain thi::ngs< a::nd I (.) have never
8. really (0.3) looked into it in detail I d- I did do:wnload
9. .hhh (.) a dre::am [app on] my [Iphone .hhh] pt a::nd I=
10. L: [right ] [>yeah yeah<]
11. G: =was >one of my dreams recently actualleey< .hh I which
12. I didn’t write it do::wn. Bu- so (.) >I can tell you the
13. ba[sics]< that .hhh I was ha::ving this to:rrid (.).hh=
14. L: [yeah]
15. G: =love affair with a wo::[man] .hhh a:[::nd] (.) it was=
16. L: [yep] [yeah]
17. G: =rea::lly intense n en and >I can’t remember what
18. Happened or where it we:.nt< [(0.3) but] so I looked up
19. >lesbianism< (.) which I wouldn’t class myself(he)
20. as obviously(he)
Extract: 5.4: DD:6: Janice
22. L: okay right .hhhh (.) so in terms of when we talkin (.)
23. slightly earlier about .h the kinds of topics you might
24. not talk to o[thers abo ]::ut e::rm=
25. J: [mmm (.) mm]
26. J: =>oh a[ctually I j]ust remembered (.) I rem[embe]r<=
27. L: [what’s that]. [oh ]
28. [OH e:rr >yeah yeah<]
29. J: [=>actually I did have]dre::ams about< my BRO[THER]=
30. L: [AHH]
31. L: =mm [(he)[GOODO(ha]haha)]
265
32. J: [fancying my ] brother=
33. L: RI::GHT
34. J: =>an I was alwa::ys an I never I don’t thi-< (.) .HH I
35. never we I .hhhh certainly °did ne I don’t thi::nk I
36. necessarily wou- told Jimmy about it° cos I spose I th-
37. I was not (.) asham::ed of it [but] but its kinda that
38. OH FAMILY >that’s .HHH (.)clearly not right [is(he)]it(he)].<=
39. L: [hehehe ]
40. J: =but y’know o::r or y’know cULTure tells you it’s not
41. .HHH [but I but I can ] remember I did have I did have
Extract 5.5: DD:4: Georgina
30. L: okay (.) so we’re now reco::rding thank you
31. very much for agreeing to take part I’m just
32. gonna ask you a few things about your dreams=
33. G: =okay
34. L: okay uhm(.)n I’ll start by asking
35. d’you ever have any dreams that you rememba=
36. G: =yes but I don’t (0.3) remember the::m .hhh
37. al::way::sss a >long time after I’ve had
38. the::m< I will remember them eh when I wake
39. u:p.(.)=
40. L: =yeah
41. G: an then I wr- I’ve been trying to write
42. them down.=
43. L: =Oh[ri::ght]
44. G: [cs theyr]e so::: bizarre [.hhh t]hey’re=
45. L: [ right]
46. G: =so(.)fri(he)ghteningly bizarre=
47. L: =right okay (.) cn you explain what you mean
48. by that by giving me en exa::mple
49. G: what bizarre.=
50. L: =ye::ah
51. G: OH I >re- do remember one instance where I
52. was eh there was a baby in the middle of the
53. ro::ad< en I was running over it backwards
54. and forwards in a [truck (.) and that is=]
55. L: [eh oh ri::ght. .hh o]kay
56. G: =so:: not me:: (.)er:m I e- um iss just so
57. [NOT ME.]
58. L: [yeah ye]ah
Extract 5.6: DD:4: Georgina
1. L: okay thanks for that .hhh I jst wanna move on a little
2. bit[ e:rm how (.)] often (.) n do you dre::am.=
3. G: [>that’s okay<]
4. L: =an thank you for sharing that cos there’s a lot in there=
5. G: =that’s alright .hhh E::rm how often do I dre::am.(.)
6. >I try not to dream very much< to be perfectly honest.=
7. L: =okay
266
8. G: I have ha- >had a couple of dreams recently which .hhh
9. (.) time didn’t permit me to write them< d[o::w]n.=
10. L: [okay]
11. G: =at the time but e::r erm .hh an they were fairly horrific
12. an I thought oh here we go::. (.)I’m having another
13. Meniere’s .h but h Meniere’s didn’t [manifest s]o=
14. L: [ri:ght oka]y
15. G: =(.) .hhh I was re::lly pleased
16. L: an can you remember anything abo::ut them.=
17. (0.5)
18. G: e:::rm (.) my old boss was [in it] .HH mi[lita]ry=
19. L: [right] [okay]
20. G: =>feature quite often in my dreams<=
21. L: right and have you got any connections to the military.=
22. G: =no (.) OH actually a my sister works for the MOD now
23. but[ .hhhh she’s] only been there a ye::[ar or] so=
24. L: [not not yeah] [right]
25. G: =e::rm (0.3) but no not re:::ally. e:::rm .hhh dogs
26. .hhh >feature in my dreams< an I .hhh (0.3) I (.) I do-
27. I don’t mind dogs if I kno:w the dog. but I don’t like
28. stra::y dogs that are not [on a leash] cos I’ve been bitten=
29. L: [yeah yeah]
30. G: =twice
31. L: yes yeah=
32. G: =so:: (.) e::rm >an I was bitten by an Alsation en in
33. the< (.) SECond dre::am I i- I was looking for a jo:b
34. an in order to get a [job] I had to kill two[dogs o]ne=
35. L: [yeah] [right]
36. G: =was a Po::[odle]. (.) .hh >which I think I [ran o]ver<=
37. L: [yeah] [righ]t
38. G: =en the other one was an Alsation an I stuck my fi::ngers
39. up its no:se. >an held its mouth shut< .hhh >an I walked
40. into the river with it an held it [under wate]r.=
41. L: [right yeah]
42. L: yeah so trying a ki- oh yeah
43. G: an I mean I’ve grew up on a fa::rm an that’s not
44. G: (he)not the way to t[reat animals] y’know
Extract: 5.7: DD:14: Ollie
15. L: e::rm >d’yu ever dream when you’re ill.<= (.)
16. O: =m’yeah (.) re::ally wei[rd (].) dreams=
17. L: [okay]
18. L: okay (.)in what wa:y cn you (.) kinda remember
19. any:: [o::r ].h not.=
20. O: [e::rm]
21. O: e::rm er >yeah once when I was si::ck<
22. (0.4) I (.) >cus my stomach must’ve been hurtin<
23. I had a dre:am .hh that (.) erm (0.3) that I was part
24. of ne::ws report .h an then as part of the news report
25. the reporter startid cutting me (.).hh like w- with a
26. cha::insaw on my stomach (0.4) en I woke up an
27. obviously it wasn’t [happen]ing=
267
28. L: [right]
Extract 5.8: DD15: Nigel
1. L: okay it’s recording now(.).hhh can you tell me
2. e::rm about your dreams.=
3. N: =right e::rm (.) yes I had this dre::am (.) e:::rm (0.3)
4. pt .hhh >I can’t remember how it began okay< but e:rm
5. e:::rm the bit I rememba (.) right (.)((sniffs))I was at
6. tai chi err a tai ch- ky’know er chi kung at La::m’s
7. place .hhh cept I don’t think it was qui::te Lam’s place
8. >but anyway< I was the::re .h a:nd(.)e HHHkhehehe
9. .hhhs >£it was something to do with him< mo:::ving£ right
10. eh y’know ees goin to America an all this .hhhss a::nd
11. erm HHHhhh hhh(he)some(he)how(he)hhh I had a bunch of his
12. stu::ff an it ws like (.)I dunno sem .hh MAGazi::nes
13. or books or something like that in my underpants haha=
14. L: [ri::ght ]
15. S: [=ri(haha)]ght(he).hhh he .HHHHH an I said to em eh
16. Something e::r eh y’know >I can’t remember exactly<(.)
17. hhh I noticed that I(he)had these things en I sa- saw I don’thh
18. know how (he)they got the::re .hh but I took off my underpants
19. ta give him his stuff alright. En this was e- eh y’know
20. entirely he he sort of .hhhh acceptable there was °no
21. (.) problem with this° (.) .hh so then I was doi::ng the
22. rest of the cl::ass an I go- I >dunno if we were we-
23. doing chi kung< or the swo:rd or what. e::m er with with
24. no trousers or or underwear on >I had a shirt on< en
25. em My shirttails were .hh(hehe)covering the pa::rts .hh
26. there was no .hhs y’know >there were lots of other people
27. there< th- the there was no (.)problem with this(.)
Extract 5.9: DD:2: Chloe and Isabel
1. C: like >you dreamt the other da::y that< .h you had like
2. a::ll (.) your ski::n shaved off didn’t you. en an my mum
3. was thr[owing s]a:lt at you. .hhh in your open wou::nds=
4. I: [.hhheheh]
5. I: =like I had no no all my s[kin wa]s like=(.)
6. L: [oooh ]
7. L: that’s a bit vivid
8. C: =yeah that’s what they’re al- always like like really
9. like .h[hhh (.)] he (.)
10. I: [hhhorri]ble=
11. L: [any ot]her exa::mples.
12. I: =yeah so like Chloe’s mum was throwing]salt at me::
13. ((sniffs)) en so like onto my RA::W skin=
14. C: (he)throwin salt in the wounds HHhehe(he)wasn’t it.=
((giggles))
15. I: yeah literally .hhh=
16. (((all laughing))
17. I: = mmm but yea::h e::r eh my dreams probly are quite cli::ché
268
Extract: 6.1: DD:6: Janice
1. L: okay right .hhhh (.) so in terms of when we talkin (.)
2. slightly earlier about .h the kinds of topics you might
3. not talk to o[thers abo ]::ut e::rm=
4. J: [mmm (.) mm]
5. J: =>oh a[ctually I j]ust remembered (.) I rem[embe]r<=
6. L: [what’s that]. [oh ]
7. [OH e:rr >yeah yeah<]
8. J: [=>actually I did have]dre::ams about< my BRO[THER]=
9. L: [AHH]
10. L: =mm [(he)[GOODO(ha]haha)]
11. J: [fancying my ] brother=
12. L: RI::GHT
13. J: =>an I was alwa::ys an I never I don’t thi-< (.) .HH I
14. never we I .hhhh certainly °did ne I don’t thi::nk I
15. necessarily wou- told Jimmy about it° cos I spose I th-
16. I was not (.) asham::ed of it [but] but its kinda that
17. OH FAMILY >that’s .HHH (.)clearly not right [is(he)]it(he)].<=
18. L: [hehehe ]
19. J: =but y’know o::r or y’know cULTure tells you it’s not
20. .HHH [but I but I can ] remember I did have I did have
21. L: [yeah interesting]
22. J: >dreams about my brother< (.) my older brother.=
23. L: [right]
24. J: [=>ne]ver my younger brother<
25. L: .hh w- sexualised drea[ms. o]::r.=
26. J: [yeah ]
27. L: =yeah
28. J: yeah I don’t thi- anything ac- I don’t think there was
29. anything uh (.) that I can recall anyway that ↑act↑ually
30. happened it was just a it was just again .hh >a sort of
31. fancying< .hhhh=
32. L: yeah
33. J: =I can’t remember any de::tail (.1) of it [no::w=]
34. L: [mmm mm ]
35. J: =I don’t think .hhh (.) I actually found myself i::n a
36. J: comprom- a sort of a compromised posit- it was DEFINitely
37. ah of a sexual nature tho:[:ugh] FANcying someone=
38. L: [mmm ]
39. J: =rather than .h (.)=
40. L: ye[ah actually]
41. J: [=actually a]cting it o::ut.=
42. L: [yeah yeah ]
Extract 6.2: DD15: Nigel (see above, extract 5.8)
Extract 6.3: DD:13: Norman
1. L: right so can you remember any of your recurrent(.)
2. dreams=
3. N: =.hhhhh m probably in the: moments.((coughs))hmm
269
4. immediately following them I can and [then]they=
5. L: [yeah]
6. N: =rec[e::d]e=
7. L: [a::h]
8. N: =but y’know they are things like falling down escalators
9. >dropping children .hhhh (.) children falling down
10. stairs children being dropped off of or falling off of
11. liners< (.) .hhhh [.HHHh] >ought(he) £to go to a=
12. L: [yeah ]
13. N: =therapist£ about it this<(hhh[ahehehe] ss s: >sort of<
14. L: [ah-aha ]
15. N: suppressed infanticidal fantasies .h[hhhh hehe].HH=
16. L: [ahehehehe]
17. N: =but no they’re generally terri::ble .hhhh I mean
18. th- th- (.) I don’t know what it is.
Extract 6.4: DD:1: Julienne
1. L: .sshhh so you used the term there ACTually happened (.)
2. do you see any connection between(.)[e::rm] I don’t know=
3. J: [YEAH ]
4. L: =how to express it really .hh the real A:nd (.) >what
5. happens< in dreams. .HHHSSS=
6. J: =E::rm m- .hhh yeah I Do:: but(.)I think e::rm hhh(0.5)
7. u-(0.7) pt >yeah< I don’t buy into any sort of emystical
8. predictive [kind of] y’know (.) >ideas about dre::ams< I=
9. L: [right ]((coughs))
10. J: =tend t’think as pretty much yo::ur .hh y’know
11. your bra- >it’s your brain< dealing with memories your bra-
12. brain De- DE[aling] with stuff n .hhh an making conNECtions=
13. L: [hmmm ]
14. J: =n it u-using (0.4).HHH(.) >IT’S USING IMPRESSIONS<
15. you’ve already PUT I::n [a::nd y’ k]now sometimes the=
16. L: [yeah yeah ]
17. J: =outcome is kinda quite unpredictable in terms of things
18. you don’t quite recognise
Extract 6.5: DD:1: Julienne
1. L: that’s now eh[ru::nn]ing .hh so >thank you for=
2. J: [uh huh]
3. L: =agreeing to participate< erm I’m jst gonna eh uh
4. ask you a few questions about your dre::ms=
5. J: =okay
6. L: erm (.).hhhsss an I’ll start off by asking em .hhh
7. d’you ever have(.)any dreams that you remem::ba.=
8. J: =yea::h sometimes quite quite unusual that I
9. rem[ember them .h u]sually it’s more of a bleugh::=
10. L: [°.hh okay° erm ]
11. right okay an what would wh- >is there anything in
12. particular that prompts you to remem:ber them.<
13. ((sniffs)).hhhhss=
14. J: ah eh a (0.3).hhh >I think sometimes the ones you
15. remember< are ones that ar:e are particularly
270
16. wacky or that a- particularly connect with
17. some::thing or [ar::]:: (.) eh y’know somehow:: really=
18. L: [yeah]
19. J: =.hhhh (.) DISconceerting kind of warp- warping
20. of reality
21. L: .hhh okay erm erm I’m gonna ask y- you >cos you
22. you’ve used three terms there which is WACKY e::rm (.)
23. connect and disconcerting< so w- can I ask you what
24. you mean by [wacky i]n the first instance.=
25. L: [mmmm ]
26. J: e:::rm .hh we ah thi- uh th- e ye::ah .hhh I > kind
27. of a best the best exa::mple £I think is one that
28. hits(he)all(he)of those(he)three< .hhhh things which
29. was that I still remember an this isss this iss(0.1)a
30. long:: time ago .hh maybe ºgod maybe 15 years agoº now
31. .hhh I remember having a dream about my boss at the
32. ti::m[ein]in(.)in dra[::g right ] right so .h=
33. L: [hhm]m [nohehehe ]
34. J: [=£so w-a ma]le£ boss(hehe).hh uh end .hhh y’know
35. L: [okay hahaha ]
36. J: .hhh e:::ha y’know there there ee was was >large as life
37. in the dream< .hh wearing a a wearing a a dress that was
38. kind of the kind of flower chintz [pattern t]hat you’d=
39. L: [mmhm mmhm]
40. J: =get on a s[o::fa] .h e::rm a::ns .hh y’know an that’s=
41. L: [mhmm ]
42. J: =a very disconcerting image to take with you into the
43. next da::y when you’re in a a meeting with this pe::rson
Extracts:6.6 and 6.7:SD7: Donna
1. R: °okay°(0.3)((writing noise)) and had you had nightmares
2. e as a(.) child were they a- w- was nightmares s >sort
3. of< a common theme[. or was ] n[o so=]
4. D: [don’t recal] d[on’t ]recall nightmares
5. (2.6) (((writing noise))
6. R: can I ask roughly what they were (.) I have to be very
7. WAry ((sniffs)) cos obviously nightmares are .HHH
8. emot[ional=]
9. D: [no a ]h I can easily tell you e::rm (0.4) a:::nd
10. (1.3) I was having both of them up until last
11. ye::ar (0.4) one of them I don’t have at all now=
12. R: =°okay°
13. D: an the other one I have (0.3) periodically .HH a:::nd
14. I had a bLIP of it last night=
15. R: =oka[y]
16. D: [B]UT >I was able< to push it[away=] (0.3)
17. R: [yeah ]
18. well I don’t want us to dwell [on it ]
19. D: [NO I ]can easily tell
20. you=
21. R: =°oh okay° .hhhhh
22. D: .hh wa- the one that I’m still having occasionally
23. that erm >I had last night and I pushed it away< .hhh
271
24. is erm (0.3) I go (.) with (0.9) my partner an >so I’m
25. guessing it’s my husband[<TO ] a ho::use (.) party that’s=
26. R: [Hhhh]
27. D: =a::ll the guests are in the kitchen (.) e:rm (.) which is
28. in the Basement of this very big house it’s almost like
29. a Lundon house but >I’ve been having this for years an
30. I’ve only been in Lundon three mont[hs s]o< .HHH=
31. R: [yeah]
32. D: =it’s like a Lundon house where a LOt of Lundon properties
33. their kitchens are (.) belo:w aren’t they.=
34. R: =yeah
35. D: erm an it’s a MASSive house it’s a MASSive kitchen
36. an there’s loads of people and the lady of the house(.)
37. the hostess co::mes when we arrive .hhh an she say’s what
38. would you like to drink (.) an I’m not drinking you see
39. (.) cos erm I don’t know whether .hh I’m alcoholic (0.3)
40. en I’ve given up drinking (0.2) I don’t really know
41. .ssshhh but >what would you like to drink< an I say I’d
42. H- like a glass of er tap water and a tall glass with ice
43. and lemon please (0.4).hh an she says erm .hh well as you’d
44. only like (.) to have tap water you can go and help yourself
45. .hh an I’m VEry miffed (.) e::rm put out .H er that
46. >everybody else gets their drinks served to them< nicely
47. by (.) the lady whose house it is .HH probably co- because
48. they’re having a proper [drin]k .HHH but I’m only having=
49. R: [yeah]
50. =water .hh but b b because I’m not having a proper drink
51. and I’m only having water that I can get bloody well
52. basically go and get my own=
53. R: =yeah
54. D: e::mr and the twist on that i::s that the lady will get
55. me a drink (.) but I can’t have the slice of lemon because
56. the lemon(0.3)is being saved for those people who are
57. >having a proper drink<=
58. R: =°°okay°°
59. D: .hh a::nd sometimes in the top (.) corner over there
60. so let’s say I’m standing here (.) and the lady of the
61. house is here (0.4) and my partner >who I think< is my
62. husband (.) is here you see .hh and then over in the top
63. corner of th- er em the ceiling .h is a camera (0.2)wrong
64. >it’s not a camera< it’s a face why did I just say
65. camera. (0.3) don- .HH >it’s a face< (.) it is a face an
66. it’s a face of a ma::n but I don’t know what man I don’t
67. know who man I don’t know but anyway .HHH it’s the SIZE of
68. a camera >it’s like in the hall here< there’s cameras
69. .hh erm those >ball glass ball cameras< so it’s about that
70. big(0.8) an that’s the size of this face (0.3) a:::::
71. ahh er and very very sometimes I ask Edward I’m sure it’s
72. him °my husband° e::r (.) if he wants a drink and >what
73. I mean by that is a proper drink< (0.5) er y’know basically
74. just because I’m not having a proper drink doesn’t mean
75. you can’t have a proper drink (.) but yeah mostly it’s
76. it’s the .hh help MYself (.) and I can’t have a slice of
77. [lemon th]at’s the big things in that one=
78. R: [ye:::ah ]
79. D: .HH THE OTHER one i::s the hotel where my dad was .hhh is
272
80. a big 22 bedroom er erm Castellated Folly (0.8) .HH a::::nd
81. er there’s a >fire< pt a::nd I can smell the fire smoke
82. .hh and I can hear .H the long long pea green curtains
83. >which is what [we did] have< .hh ripping on the sha::rds=
84. R: [.HHHH ]
85. D: =of glass an I went OH GOD ISN’T THAT WEIRD. .hh OOH(.)MM .hhh
86. >the windows are like those ones<(.).hhhh >not in my
87. dream< I mean (.)really=
88. R: .HHH((sniffs)).hhh pt (.)
89. R: JST JSt in case[your ah hhh ]
90. D: [an my legs are ]>trapped
91. an I can’t get out<=
92. R: =ye::ah °no° .HHH just in case your phone call comes there’s
93. one thing I’d I’d re::ally really really really would would
94. like to make sure we cover as well which is .hhh how is
95. sleep during those periods of >sort of< detox an
96. D: DETOX.=
97. R: =yeah an >sort of<.HHH from 2013