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'.