Gregory Bateson, 1904-1980
His Wikipedia entry will point you to his work in New Guinea and Southeast Asia, and collaboration with and marriage to Margaret Mead, and central role in the early development of cybernetics and semantics, and work on the edges of psychology (the application of the concept of schismogenesis to schizophrenia, and the concept of the double bind).

In Steps to and Ecology of Mind there are several (55 pages) simply astounding Metalogues couched as conversations with his daughter, in which there are some discussions directly relevant to dreams and dreaming. I'll quote only a few bits here, to give something of the flavo[u]r:

D: What are dreams? How are they put together?

F: Well—dreams are bits and pieces of the stuff of which we are made. The non-objective stuff.

D: But how are they put together?

F: Look. Aren't we getting rather far from the question of explaining animal behavior?

D: I don't know, but I don't think so. It looks as if we are going to be anthropomorphic in one. way or another, whatever we do. And it is obviously wrong to build our anthropomorphism on the side of man's nature in whuch he is most unlike the anumals. So let's try the other side. You say dreams are the royal road to the other side. So...

D: I didn't. Freud said it. Or sometghing like it.

D: All right. But how are dreams put together?

F: Do you mean how are two dreams related to each other?

D: No. Because you said, they are only bits and pieces. What I mean is: How is a dream put togbether inside itself? Could animal behavior be put together in the same sort of way?

F: I don't know where to begin.

D: Well. Do dreams go by opposites?

F: Oh Lord! The old folk idea. No. They don't predict the future. Dreams are sort of suspended in time. They don't have any tenses.

D: But if a person is afraid of something which he knows will happen tomorrow, he might dream about it tonight?

F: Certainly. Or about something in his past. Or about both past and present. But the dream contains nolabel to tell him what it is "about" in this sense. It just is.

D: Do you mean it's as if the dream had no title page?

F: Yes, it's like an old manuscript or a letter that has lost its beginning and end, and the historian has to guess what it's about and who wrote it and when—from what's inside it.

D: Then we're going to have to be objective too?

F: Yes indeed. But we know that we have to be careful about it. We have to watch that we don't force he concepts of the creature that deals in language and tools upon the dream material.

D: How do you mean?

F: Well, for example: if dreams somehow have not tenses and are somehow suspended in time then it would be forcing the wrong sort of objectivity to say that a dream "predicts" something. And especially wrong to say it is a statement about the past. It's not history.

D: Only propaganda?

F: What do you mean?

D: I mean—is it like the sort of stories that propagandists write when they say they are history but which are really fables?

F: All right. Yes. Dreams are in many ways like myths and fables. But not consciously made up by the propagandist. Not planned.

D: Does a dream always have a moral?

F: I don't know about always. But often, yes. But the moral is not stated in the dream. The psychoanalyst tries to get the patient to find the moral. Really the whole dream is the moral.

D: What does that mean?

F: I don't quite know.

(continues...)