ABSTRACT
Anyone who can read Freud’s Interpretation of Dreams without being outraged by the novelty and seemingly unjusti fied boldness of his procedure, and without waxing morally in dignant over the stark nudity of his dream-interpretations, but can let this extraordinary book work upon his imagination calmly and without prejudice, will not fail to be deeply im pressed at that p o in t1 where Freud reminds us that an indi vidual conflict, which he calls the incest fantasy, lies at the root of that monumental drama of the ancient world, the Oedipus legend. T h e impression made by this simple remark may be likened to the uncanny feeling which would steal over us if, amid the noise and bustle of a modern city street, we were sud denly to come upon an ancient relic-say the Corinthian capital of a long-immured column, or a fragment of an inscription. A moment ago, and we were completely absorbed in the hectic, ephemeral life of the present; then, the next moment, some thing very remote and strange flashes upon us, which directs our gaze to a different order of things. W e turn away from the vast confusion of the present to glimpse the higher continuity of history. Suddenly we remember that on this spot where we now hasten to and fro about our business a similar scene of life and activity prevailed two thousand years ago in slightly different forms; similar passions moved mankind, and people were just as convinced as we are of the uniqueness of their lives. This is the impression that may very easily be left behind by a first acquaintance with the monuments of antiquity, and it seems to me that Freud’s reference to the Oedipus legend is in every way comparable. W hile still struggling with the confusing impres sions of the infinite variability of the individual psyche, we sud denly catch a glimpse of the simplicity and grandeur of the i The Interpretation of Dreams, pp. 260-61.
