Freud’s ‘The Uncanny’

February 25, 2010

I’ve been doing some research into objects, strange collections and general weirdness to get a better feel for Anthony’s world. As part of this research I’ve been reading Freud’s ‘The Uncanny’. ‘The Uncanny’ is an essay he wrote in 1919 in which he explores why some strange events and occurrences can unsettle us, with a particular focus on literature.

 Freud concludes that the uncanny is derived from two things. Firstly, from primitive superstitions that we no longer believe in, suddenly seeming possible – our primitive instincts lay just beneath the surface waiting for such things to be proven real. Secondly, uncanny feelings can be caused by the resurfacing of repressed infantile complexes such as fear of the father or castration complex (see below).

 It’s been a while since I’ve read any Freud and the years have been a little reductive – it’s all about sex and wanting to kill my father (or does he want to kill me?) So it’s been good to revisit.

 His prose style is sometimes a little difficult. He has a tendency to make assertions about one thing meaning something else and we’ll have to just take his work for it: ‘The study of dreams fantasies and myths has taught us also that anxiety about one’s eyes, the fear of going blind is quite often a substitute for the fear of castration.’ (p139) Of course, he has the weight of the greater part of 20th century criticism behind him so we do take his word for it. Which is just as well because I’ve already got a shrunken head with burnt out eyes in my novel – just the unconscious mind at work, though I’m still pretty sure my father never tried to castrate me.

 Freud goes on to state that to achieve the uncanny in a literary work the writer must create a world that simulates reality so that the reader’s mind reacts to unusual occurrences with the same reaction it would in real life.   

                 “In a sense then he [the writer] betrays us to a superstition we thought we had surmounted; he tricks us by promising everyday reality and then going beyond it. We react to his fictions as if they had been our own experiences.” (p157)

 So when strange things happen in a fairytale we are not disturbed by it as it’s just what we expect – fairy tales are set in strange worlds in which strange things happen. But if we are to be disturbed by something then the uncanny needs to be contrasted with normality. 

 Currently, I don’t intend to have anything of the supernatural manifest itself in my story. In fact my intention is to demystify curios by representing them as cultural artefacts rather than arcane things used in savage rituals.

 If I’m honest Freud’s essay has given me plenty to think about, but I’m still not exactly sure how or to what extent I’ll be incorporating what he has to say. Psychoanalysts might argue that I’ll be incorporating his theories whether I like it or not.

 Quotes taken from the 2003 Penguin edition of ‘The Uncanny’.

Writing locations

February 13, 2010

Perhaps I shouldn’t be admitting this but I have been finding Google’s street views very useful. Maybe a bit of background information might help to excuse me.

Chapter 2 (that starts a new narrative thread as explained in the previous post) is set in New York. Mostly it consists of 2 conversations that Anthony has on his mobile phone in the back of a cab. There are a few contextualising descriptions of the city throughout the chapter. I wanted to open out the locations of this narrative thread at an early stage so that when Anthony travels to Venice and Egypt later in the thread it won’t feel like such a jump.

New York is the ideal location as it represents a focal point of cultural diversification (that’s also outside Europe). Unfortunately, I’ve never been there. Of course, it’s somewhere that is familiar to most of us through its numerous portrayals in film, television and literature – something else that makes it a great location, as readers have their own negotiated perception of the city, so it only needs to be described in brief snap-shots that don’t interrupt the pace of the story.

 However, it is also a city steeped in stereotypical representations, such as the ubiquitous loud-mouth New York cabbie or references to its numerous iconic landmarks. To help me convey New York in an interesting way I have been exploring some of its literary representations such as ‘Catcher in the Rye’ and ‘American Psycho’. I then used Google’s street view to get a sense of place and tone, and to locate a specific setting in New York. You really can spend hours just touring around.

 Here’s one of the snap-shots from Chapter 2 of ‘The Curious Collection of Wainwright Caspinal’:

 I was sat in the back of a cab on East River Drive. Generic New York where concrete walls and tower blocks hide its Art Deco beauty. Across the water the Triborough Bridge was just a faint outline in the fading evening light. A quiet, Indian-looking man drove the taxi, crouching forward over the steering wheel with a pair of thick-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, calm in the crawling traffic.

 Always interested in your thoughts.