Freud in 'Ulysses'

The work of Sigmund Freud in the functioning of the human brain has had profound influences on thousands of artists over the last hundred years. From Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho in 1960, to Chuck Palahniuk's novel, Fight Club, in 1996, the exploration of the unconscious mind has become one of the most fascinating genres of the modern day.

As with Freud's original books and essays, such as the famous, The Interpretation of Dreams, these works pertain to the same bold, shocking, disturbing nature that aim to stimulate their audience. Indeed, Freud's mentality in approaching delicate, often unexplored subject matters epitomises the revolutionary take on life of the modernist era, as we saw with Nietzsche's theories on God last week. He was unafraid to speak his views, regardless of how controversial or seemingly mad. In this way, modernism still lives on today.

Perhaps the work that most encaptures this Freudian mentality, however, is James Joyce's epic novel, Ulysses. Originally published in separate episodes between 1918 and 1920, it is often described as THE seminal piece of twentieth century literature. The novel itself is set within the time frame of one solitary day, opening on a morning exchange between two friends, Buck Mulligan and Stephen Dedalus. Although Joyce utilises a lot of imagery within his first episodes, thus presenting them in an almost dreamlike fashion, the reader is able to follow and understand a conventional narrative. There are certain aspects that are reminiscent of the modernist movement though, such as the theme of the oppression of the individual, symbolised by the subservience of Dedalus. Joyce is here perhaps alluding towards the renewed importance of individualism within society.

However, later in the novel, Freud's influence becomes far more apparent, after the story shifts to the narrative of a new character, Leopold Bloom. The reader is exposed to a bombardment of largely abstract imagery that has no direct relevance to the plot, (or what the audience originally perceived to be the 'plot'). Bloom reveals his fears and anxieties that are brought to within his conscious thinking by everyday objects and events, such as the clouds and interaction with neighbours. A sexual tension between himself, and wife, Molly, also dominates the prose, and so the novel begins to transform itself into a psychoanalysis of the human brain, and more disturbingly to early twentieth century readers, a psychoanalysis of an apparently sane, everyday man.

By the very last few pages of the book, all conventional narrative techniques have been abandoned, instead replaced by incredibly long soliloquies that are presented to us by Molly. These represent her stream of unconscious thought, and contain no punctuation to emphasise the limitless ability and 'freedom' of the mind. Her thoughts range from the oppression of women, to speaking Spanish abroad, and to the sexual experiences that she fantasizes about with another man.

This in itself is a revolutionary passage of writing, not just for its controversial graphic descriptions and crude language, but for its unreserved championing of the power of the human brain. I think Joyce is applying Freudian theory to the modernist ideolgies of the time, namely the desire for the mind to be free, open, an individual that does not conform to the constraints of society - and this is reflected clearly in his style of writing.

Although Ulysses is difficult to read and understand, even today, it is still an incredibly important work, as all readers are still able to empathise with the concepts that Joyce was relating to - the innate need for the freedom of the 'inner self'.

The Original Superman

Friedrich Nietzsche's novel, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, cites the author's critique of late nineteenth century society and its beliefs in faith or religion. The protagonist, a prophet named Zarathustra, descends from his mountain caves, promising to enlighten the world. This is an echo of Socrates' famous allegory, concerning the promised enlightenment of those men and women who step away from the dark shadows of our perceived world and into true reality. Thus, Nietzsche seems almost to be alluding towards a new renaissance.

The key belief that Zarathustra preaches, is that of God being 'dead', declaring instead that mankind must itself become 'godlike'. Whether Nietzsche believed in a divine being is somewhat irrelevant. He is suggesting that the idea of a God and religion can no longer maintain a strong society and dismisses them as 'old' theories. Instead, the new ideology is that of the 'Superman'.

Zarathustra tells the people that man must overcome itself, fighting against innate weaknesses, including everyday human emotions and even hunger and fatigue. In so doing, man evolves to become the ultimate being, the Superman, and achieve its destiny. Those who refute it, become a part of 'The Last Man', left behind to effectively 'de-evolve', standing still within time.

The book seems almost dictatorial, demanding readers to accept its ideas and scorning those who do not. Indeed, I would argue Nietzsche feels embarassed by mankind and its failures to achieve its higher purpose, instead sitting in idleness, holding one another back. This may be reflected in the short section describing the rope-dancer, who is assaulted midway through his performance by a fellow madman, plunging to his death. The author even makes this symbolic meaning clear, when he talks of a metaphorical bridge between man and the Superman, which must be crossed before achieving enlightenment.

He is thus introducing a new take on the ancient, eternal conflict between good and evil; one that has been acknowledged since the days of Plato and Aristotle. This strive for power, he is insinuating, is one that must be fought within the 'inner self', as we seek to cast aside our mortal souls in search of a purer form of existence. This reflects the emphasis on the importance of individualism that was prevalent at the time, and was a key theme in the modernist movement.

Thus Spoke Zarathustra is a work that provokes much thought amongst readers. For example, it's subtitle, 'A Book for All and None', is literally paradoxical and on the surface makes no sense to readers. However, after closer thought, it may be interpreted as a philosophical statement that stresses the contrast between man and the Superman; the novel is for those who are not yet enlightened (those being the former), while those who have evolved into a godlike being (the latter), have no need for material possessions such as books.

As for the idea of the Superman itself, I'm of the belief that in its current state, mankind would find it impossible to evolve into such a being. Although Nietzsche's ideas are greatly self-encouraging, allowing readers to pertain to the idea that they have a greater purpose in life, his prediction that religion would soon collapse has somewhat been found out. With the emergence of science, religion may have slipped into decline over the last few hundred years, however it is still a major part of society.

Perhaps Nietzsche and Zarathustra were ahead of their time, and mankind was not and still is not yet ready for the coming of a super human.

Radical Modernism

The turn of the century also witnessed the birth of a new movement and one which reacted against all past ideologies of the enlightenment era. It's roots originate from the middle of the 19th Century, when the composer, Richard Wagner, completed the piece, Tristan and Isolde. It was critically received, Wagner having broken all time-honoured rules of classical composition to create a dark, brooding piece that shocked the Western World. Here was born the modernist movement, intended to revolutionize the way in which people considered traditional, often dogmatic, values and thus change the way the world was viewed.

Perhaps the most famous and influential philosopher of the time was a man named Friedrich Nietzsche, whose novel, Thus Spake Zarathustra, would seem to epitomise the new, radical concepts of the time. His aphorism, 'God is dead', introduced an entirely revolutionary take on the debate between science and religion. Nietzsche argued that whether God did exist or not, the universe was now 'Godless', and mankind now stood alone in its fight to evolve. Individualism was key, and a democratic society was no longer workable if man hoped to achieve a higher status within the universe.

The 'Superman' is the highest of all entities; man must fight everyday weaknesses that make us mortal, such as hunger and fatigue, and all unnecessary emotions, in the pursuit of his ultimate destiny.

Nietzsche seems to be suggesting that this be the answer to life itself and echoes the theories of Hegel, in that mankind has a greater purpose in reaching an ultimate haven, (reminiscent of a 'Garden of Eden'), and becoming 'godlike'. What distinguishes modernist views on life, from those of past centuries, however, is that religion is wholly disregarded as part of the old mentality, and must also be overcome to achieve this 'perfection'. It was proposed that we live in a 'de-centred universe', in that all matter is relative only to itself, and that space will continue to expand forever, into infinity, dwarfing everything until it is entirely empty.

The movement continued to shock the post-romantic world. Operas and plays were largely sombre, moving productions and often sexually explicit in their content. Feminism branched out of this, particulalry as the century wore on, and women began to gain positions of greater importance, and thus greater success. Marie Curie is one example, winning two Nobel Prizes for her exploits in both physics and chemistry.

While modernism may no longer be considered 'modern', the movement itself can be credited with injecting new and exciting ideas into society, thus overseeing a crucial stage in its development into what we know today. What used to be considered radical, no longer is.

Lord Northcliffe... The British Hearst?

In this week's seminar, we discussed the life and achievements of Alfred Harmsworth. The first of Britain's great newspaper barons, he incorporated into his considerable empire both the Daily Mail and more upmarket The Times newspapers, around the turn of the 20th Century. He gained peerage in 1905 and the new title, by which he is more commonly known, Lord Northcliffe.

Perhaps one of his more notable papers is one of his own creation, namely the Daily Mirror, founded as an offshoot to the Mail and originally written by and for women. In its youth, Northcliffe's new paper struggled with circulation and very soon became 'the laughing stock of Fleet Street', as described in Chris Horrie's Tabloid Nation. The owner quickly scrapped the women's newspaper, re-modelling it as the Daily Illustrated Mirror; a piece of journalism that could be read by men on the move, either on their way to work in the mornings, or while sitting down to lunch in the afternoons.

It saw the birth of what has become known as 'photojournalism', utilising the new technology of cameras to encapture news stories in a way that had never been done before. It was described as journalism that would avoid 'mental paroxysm'; Northcliffe was thus effectively aiming his increasingly successful creation at the illiterate working classes. He hired Hannen Swaffer as pictorial editor, a media-driven man with a ruthless competitive edge, seemingly unwilling to allow morals to impede his pursuit of a juicy story. He printed the first photos of the deceased Edward VII at his funeral, while he ran an exclusive edition of images depicting the Titanic, upon the sinking of the luxury liner.

The new fad of photojournailsm became intoxicating to the country, as millions of amateur photos were sent into Swaffer's office, all looking to gain some easy profit. It was the new craze, perhaps seen as Harry Potter-style, moving images might be perceived in today's, modern newspapers.

For a time, Lord Northcliffe would have appeared to have saved his floundering baby. However, in 1913, he sold it (now reverted back to its former title) to brother, Harold, later Lord Rothermere. Northcliffe wished to elevate his standing in society, in order to have greater political influence, (though he never aspired to become Prime Minister), thus severing his connections to the sensationalist tabloid. Here I believe to be the difference between him and his American counterpart, Hearst. While the New York-based journalist was driven solely by his publishing company and its stories, Northcliffe had alterior motives in gaining more power within the House of Lords. Indeed, the title of ruthless 'bad boy' at the Mirror belonged to Swaffer.

The younger Harmsworth, Rothermere, having inherited the empire, also used the papers to gain his own political leverage, promoting far-right rallies and movements that verged on the fascist, even threatening an allegiance with the growing Nazi agenda. By such time, the Daily Mirror itself was beginning to struggle again, losing the battle in 'free giveaways' that had been initiated by the Daily Herald and Daily Express. It would not be until Rothermere's removal that the paper would experience its second revival.

Although the Harmsworths were as close to a British 'Hearst equivalent' as there was, it seems clear that they did not possess the same business acumen in later life, or the hunger, that made the American so successful. All three men were certainly powerful though; proof that power in all forms would seem to corrupt...

Revisiting Hearst

Our first lecture of the new year focussed on revising the general overview of one of America's first newspaper barons, William Randolph Hearst. Indeed, the man may be largely credited for introducing the world to tabloid journalism as we know it today... so Murdoch may have someone to thank in this respect.

Hearst's father, George, was originally lured to the promise land of California in the mid 19th century, where he, along with many hopeful European immigrants, hoped to strike it rich in the Gold Rush. I think that in many ways, here was born the fledgling American Empire, as the idea of a 'manifest destiny' began to spread, giving the country a mentality of inherited rights to expand and develop. One offshoot of this may be seen in the subsequent Indian Wars, a battle for land and territory.

George Hearst, having made a decent living in mining, went on to invest in a successful publishing company and soon began to form his own business empire. Toward the end of his life, his son, William Randolph, insisted on inheriting this investment. One such paper, was the San Francisco Examiner. The young Hearst seemed already to have an eye for the potential power of the press and its propaganda.

But, after the death of his father, Hearst raced on to create one of the greatest newspaper corporations of his time. There is certainly a case for recognising him as one of the true geniuses of the century, with incredible business acumen. He transformed dry journalism into sensationalist 'art', employing bigger, bolder headlines, reducing the size and number of stories, and perhaps most importantly, introducing pictures and illustrations that would 'attract the eye and stimulate the imagination' to 'materially aid comprehension'. The frontpage was critical to Hearst, as he recognised this as his selling pitch to millions of consumers.

As was mentioned in previous blogs, Hearst was not alone in his endeavours. Having moved to New York late on in the century, he competed with Joseph Pulitzer and his paper, New York World. I think this war of circulation may be epitomised in Hearst's poaching of one of Pulitzer's popular cartoon characters, the Yellow Kid, in 1896. He saw how audiences empathised with and loved the character, and so in his ruthless competitiveness, he effectively stole the idea. Pulitzer responded by creating 'a new' Yellow Kid, and so saw the birth of the term, 'yellow journalsim', or what may now be more commonly referred to as the 'red top papers'.

Although it is difficult not to respect what Hearst achieved in his lifetime, (evidenced by his lasting influences on contemporary journalism), there is also a darker side to the man, which may not be ignored. Whereas it is one thing to poach the asset of a direct competitor, for the sake of circulation numbers, it is another to verge on the illegality of war mongering.

Before the outbreak of the Spanish War, Hearst would naturally have been attracted by the possibility of increasing readers. He sent an investigator to report back important information as to its developments, but upon his man telegraphing no news, Hearst was thought to have allegedly replied; 'Please remain. You furnish the pictures and I'll furnish the war'. While it is important to stress that these are allegations, it is seemingly not altogether beyond the man to have wished for as much.

Yes, William Randolph Hearst was a genius of his kind. But to use the old cliche, he was perhaps one of a flawed nature.