In Unconscious, by Françoise Meltzer, the writer discusses different opinions regarding psychoanalytic theory, mainly those of Sigmund Freud and Jacques Lacan. Telling us the different ways in which our thinkers conceive of the unconscious, we are told that Freud first created a topographic model of the mind, in which consciousness and the unconscious are separated by a repression barrier that keeps us from accessing the latter. Freud also sees it through “hydraulic” metaphors, in which the unconscious, burdened by tension, needs to “’leak through’” or “’seek outlets’”(Meltzer 151). When he finally revises his model into the tripartite model, in which he creates the categories of id, ego, and superego, Lacan and other French psychoanalysts begin to disagree with him, believing that the topographic model is more correct. Our writer tells us that “one can see that the choice of models for the mind, and therefore the choice of metaphors and rhetorical devices used to describe psychic activity, are highly politicized in subsequent psychoanalytic theory”(Meltzer 152).
But, Meltzer says this relates to something else: the study of literature. We argue about and discuss literature not only over basic plot and narration, but we pay extra attention to the smallest of details; we look at those same “slips of the tongue, puns, jokes, and ‘gaps’”(Meltzer 157) in narratives as a psychoanalyst would look at in a person. We expect these to have deeper meaning than what our narrators tell us directly. Like those who believe in the unconscious, readers and critics believe there is much more information underneath the surface.
Even Freud, in trying to explain his theories, analyzes Oedipus and Hamlet, great literary characters. However, Freud’s psychoanalytic theory comes into a problem when it runs into literature. Although a lover of narratives himself, he takes stories and explains them away using his theories, specifically “The Uncanny” by E. T. A. Hoffmann, in which a man named Nathaniel is terrified of the Sandman, whom he believes will gouge out his eyes. Eventually killing himself because he believes one of the “sandmen” wants him to jump off a tower, the story ends quite tragically.
Meltzer tells us that Freud explains this using the idea of Fetishism, in which the protagonist’s fear is not of having his eyes gouged out, but of castration, and that the fear narrated in the book is just a product of repression and displacement. By attempting to give a diagnosis to the protagonist, however, Freud seems to “solve” the book like a math equation, something scary for literature lovers everywhere.
Lacan, in his conception of psychoanalytic theory, draws heavily from the ideas of Saussure and Jakobson. Using their ideas on linguistics to parallel the ideas of the conscious and unconscious, he tells us that the unconscious is “structured like a language”(Meltzer 159), even using metonymy to explain the displacement of desire within the mind.
As Meltzer says, “there is something in the reader-critic who would like to keep some texts uncanny, and that resists the notion that any discipline (especially one outside of literary studies) can claim to “decipher” the “real” meaning of the text”(Meltzer 155). Literature (and most subjects within the humanities), is complex and unquantifiable. The reason we continue to study the same texts over and over is exactly for this reason. If we can suddenly “solve” the narratives we truly love, what is the point of continuing to study it?
However, a straight rejection of Freud’s theory cannot be made without raising another. By creating a barrier between psychoanalytic theory and literature, we can no longer use literature to help explain other fields either. We also must decide what else falls outside of the literary realm, and what falls within it. When we build a wall, we must decide who and what to keep out, and also where to put it. If one really wants to get at the “truth”, of literature, shouldn’t all answers be accepted and considered?
As I said before, literature is something that cannot be quantified. Especially today, with technology allowing us to write publically whenever we like, and when we have films, news and art in wide availability, everything is literature and everything can be analyzed. By creating boundaries and saying that some theories and ideas fall outside of literature, we constrict our ability to look at the field in different ways. If we want to discover a little bit more about the workings of the human mind, both within psychoanalytic theory and literature, it is necessary to take into account the thoughts surrounding them that aren’t considered “literary” in the traditional sense.