Qualified Rhetorical Insight into Life via Uncanniness
Humans have long sought to understand life by assigning it cycles and devising patterns. Especially in the case of difficult events, we grasp these tools—but how realistic, or even useful, are they? Perhaps as a way to process challenges, thinkers like Sigmund Freud have proposed frameworks for heightened comprehension of otherwise-intractable phenomena. In The Uncanny, his theories coalesce around the binary nature of important experiences—including what was once suppressed returning and confusing oneself with experiences exchanged with a doppelgänger (142-144). Freud also dives into examples of literature that successfully achieve uncanniness and cites other works that remain firmly “canny” despite containing disquieting elements (157-158). He also proposes sexual complexes as agents of the uncanny, which are less clearly supported while briefly sampling the literature (139, 151).
We see a cross-section of these ideas in literary works including “Fat Lady,” from Love’s Executioner by Irvin Yalom. This chapter describes a woman’s journey through therapy while beginning to confront the deep-rooted trauma behind challenges such as disordered eating and passivity masked with a cheerful façade (Yalom 98, 110). Betty relives trauma, reconciles a transferred identity, and processes paternal interference with her mental state, matching uncanny dualities Freud outlines (Yalom 110). But other Freudian ideas are absent, opening the door for his framework to be challenged. These real experiences are rougher around the edges than any theory can anticipate. Her story (told by her therapist, the author) raises the question of whether it is important or productive to precisely delineate the uncanny when the act of categorizing experiences does not incite emotional progress.
This question is echoed by “Apollo and Daphne” from Ovid’s The Metamorphoses. In this story, a quarrel between gods leads to the magically love-addled Apollo pursuing an equally love-repulsed nymph, Daphne (Ovid 691-697). When she can no longer escape, Daphne calls upon her father (a river nymph) to save her (Ovid 803-805). She becomes a tree which Apollo memorializes as one of his symbols (Ovid 819-831). This work is saturated with the suspension of disbelief characteristic of other stories deemed uncanny (Freud 139). However, it possesses few concrete Freudian elements. Also, Freud denounces another section of The Metamorphoses as “canny” (153). This marginal case enables closer examination of the extent of support for Freudian uncanniness and how these ideas are limited.
Yalom, and to a lesser extent Ovid, weave tales supporting and subverting Freudian uncanniness. Though prominent tonal elements might not be agents of uncanniness, such effects can have deeper roots that are anticipated by Freud. These effects breathe new life into “the return of the suppressed” as a tool for processing harder parts of life. Elsewhere, other forms of duality are upheld. In contrast, those uncanny elements left by the wayside challenge the extent of uncanniness. Also, these works hint at pushing the boundaries of the uncanny or recommending a diminished role for uncanniness as a tool of thought. These instances coalesce, offering qualified support for a familiar idea of uncanniness that will not emerge unscathed.
Before evaluating the connotations and applications of the uncanny and determining how literature might shape our perceptions of the word, it is important to understand exactly how Freud understands this elusive concept inhabiting the gray area between the German words “heimlich” and “unheimlich.” No precise translation exists, but “uncanny” and “eerie” convey similar sentiments (Freud 124). Additionally, the term relates to things laden with the potential for recurrence (125, 128-129). The ambiguity of “heimlich” includes the unintentional airing of what was supposed to stay hidden, or the progression from the comfortable to the obscured—perhaps gaining a sense of danger (Freud 132-134). He later expands this paradigm with an abundance of examples and nuance, but a foundation is important to establish.
Because we examine such a small slice of literature here, not all varieties of Freudian uncanniness are present. For example, Freud extensively discusses “The Sand Man” by E.T.A. Hoffmann, which doesn’t easily converse with the Yalom or Ovid samples (136-141). Likewise, Freud examines the uncanniness that Mark Twain and C.F. von Schiller achieved via masterful delivery, characterization, and matching of themes with tones—less relevant in discussions of real interactions (Freud 144-146). We could speculate about authorial intent in our small literary sample, but lacking concrete evidence it is more worthwhile to instead examine the uncanniness in a text, and its roots and implications. In our “slice,” uncanniness is often brought about differently than in texts by Hoffmann, Twain, or von Schiller.
The main uncanniness within “Fat Lady” appears to stem from a doppelgänger and the return of the suppressed. Rather than childhood confusion about the boundary between toys and life serving as inroads to a split ego and the concept of a doppelgänger (Freud 142-143), Betty’s circumstances demonstrate a variation. Although Betty long resists psychiatric engagement, she slowly relents. Eventually, we learn that her parents minimizing her father’s decline and eventual death from brain cancer has long troubled her (Yalom 110). Specifically, Betty “realized that since her father’s death she had believed that weight loss would make her susceptible to cancer” (Yalom 102). This revelation, suppressed since childhood, has resurfaced, making it uncanny and offering a framework for understanding her challenges. Her unconscious sense of combined life force with her father furthers this parallel. After arduous steps towards processing her life and retaking control, Betty realizes “it was her own life, not her father’s, that was tragically unfulfilled” (Yalom 109). Here, confusing oneself with another via the substitution or fracturing of identity form a primitive resistance to death (Freud 142). This double splits from the rest of the ego and houses a new reality under construction while hanging onto the confusing poorly-defined self of the past—a forum for considering potential futures, later morphing into something alien or worthy of terror (Freud 143). It is eerie and frightening that this unrealized motivation has long controlled Betty, though Freud states that fear and novelty alone are not enough to evoke the uncanny (148). But articulating exactly how someone is convinced their life force is tied to that of another is remarkable, even if this manifestation follows more the spirit of the Freudian pattern than its origins. This tangential application of the doppelgänger is significant because of the mismatch of scales it raises. If something so tame as a child discovering the world seeing double life in games is uncanny (as Freud states), then a secretly accompanying spiritual (as Betty experiences) weight seems all the more so.
Betty sustains other jarring revelations towards the end of this excerpt. She identifies flashbacks during her emotionally tumultuous weight loss in the form of “re-experienc[ing] the major traumatic or unresolved events of her life that had occurred when she was at a particular weight” (Yalom 108). Although the resurfacing of the formerly-suppressed here does not manifest in the form of a womb fantasy (hidden desire to return to the common point of origin, the womb, when becoming sexually active) or castration complex, as Freud might claim (139, 151), Betty’s experiences again align with a disquieting “unintentional return” (Freud 144). Her experiences align with one Freudian mechanism but fail to mirror a couple of his more-elaborate vehicles of uncanniness. Learning more details of her experience points to more nuance in uncanniness than disquieting trains of thought coupled with an echoed experience. Here, Freud’s framework for identifying uncanniness is effective, though intangible elements of unbelievability also seem to be responsible. Maybe it is the knowledge of how close her revelations were to not surfacing at all or the difficulty with which they were dredged up that strengthen this impression.
Ultimately, Betty’s flippancy about continuing therapy with her life moving on hints that these revelations did not significantly change her character (Yalom 113-114). Although making a value judgement on her revelations of suppressed thought is impossible, her casual attitude at the first sign of separation does not inspire confidence in uncanniness as a powerful tool for a patient to wield. Thus, maybe pragmatic concerns are of more immediate importance to patients, and that splitting hairs over uncanniness might cause unnecessary strife. This application of uncanniness to literature opens the door to considering, beyond simply how well two frameworks of thought fit together, how their importance can also govern the extent of their employment and application. This theoretical over practical utility echoes the fact that Freud infrequently grounds uncanniness in lived experience.
Freud presents some ideas as extremely canny that appear almost uncanny in the Ovid excerpt. But upon closer inspection, the fact of uncanniness is achieved through other means. Freud cites “canny” examples ranging from Hans Christen Anderson and the magical resurrection found in Christianity to characters with magical stories such as Pygmalion (notably also codified by Ovid in The Metamorphoses) and Snow White (Freud 152-152). Magic features prominently in “Apollo and Daphne,” which is not enough to establish uncanniness, though the motif of love disruption by a father might tip the scales.
Freud outlines certain instances of magical thinking as uncanny but rejects others (such as Pygmalion) with little explanation (Freud 152). In “Pygmalion,” the titular character becomes infatuated with a beautiful statue eventually brought to life, fulfilling his wish. In “Apollo and Daphne,” Apollo wishes for love and Daphne wishes for escape, which they both receive in unexpected ways (Ovid 806-831). In neither tale does a suppressed past, double, or hidden incestuous thought clearly surface. But, Freud proposes another form of uncanniness that might fit better in these scenarios: a patient who wishes a fellow patient dead, where the former desires a better room and the latter soon passes away. In real life, such instances can convince people of some apparent unconscious penchant for causing harm, symbolic of a larger psychoanalytic lens that proclaims fear is borne from the return of repressed thoughts (Freud 146-147). Perhaps the changes in Ovid’s characters and their circumstances are not deep-rooted enough to be uncanny, sharing more with Pygmalion than the omnipotent patient. But, it is still interesting that in edge cases different conclusions on uncanniness can be reached using different elements of Freud’s paradigm. This points to the utilitarian nature of Freud’s theories of uncanniness as a processing tool because their nuance allows for specific interpretations to fit every situation rather than serving as generalizations so sweeping that no one gains any understanding in the process.
Additionally, certain aspects of both texts move into an opening for a more-realistic application of Freud’s theory of fathers as interrupters of love. He claims that the relation between the father as a love disruptor represents an uncanny expectation of castration by a father, representative of a larger pattern of achieving uncanniness via intellectual uncertainty (141). Aside from stories with Oedipal elements, such as “The Sand Man,” this theory is infrequently seen in practice. In Betty’s case, her father’s death caused her to shut down socially and romantically on multiple conscious and unconscious levels ranging from social anxiety to health problems to being shunned and housing repressed memories (Yalom 112). This strong role of a father coupled with these revelations’ sudden return establishes them as firmly uncanny. In “Apollo and Daphne,” Daphne ultimately calls upon her father to save her from love, though the saturation with magic makes this more of an edge case. Especially in contrast with “Fat Lady” where several narrative threads outline the re-emergence of the hidden, Daphne’s motives are starkly uniform and are never upended because of some revelation from the past.
Freud cites other not-uncanny examples in the works of authors Nestroy and Schnitzler, who spun non-uncanny tales with humor, emphasis, and darkness (Freud 157-158). These qualities pervade Betty’s otherwise firmly uncanny experiences. Perhaps Betty’s humor in the face of recurrent darkness impugns her uncanniness (Yalom 90-91). But in light of these various unconscious returns or reneging of elements of the past, it would appear that there is still something uncanny, if not in Yalom’s words, then certainly in Betty’s experiences. Though Freud appears to restrict such works from uncanniness, Yalom’s story appears to raise experiences uncanny despite rather than because of their dark delivery.
“Fat Lady” and “Apollo and Daphne” span a chasm of centuries and a full gamut of themes, magic, and purpose. Yet after interrogation, they both stand tall as proponents of certain elements of Freudian uncanniness—a testament to this theory. Specifically, there is particularly widespread or salient evidence for the return of the suppressed, doppelgänger theory, and fathers as love disruptors. But in its overlooking of intangibly disquieting elements with more tangential connections to the suppressed returning, this theory precludes other events (with the potential to challenge) from uncanniness. Perhaps this intermediate, unassuming result is in itself uncanny: rather than overwhelming support or counterevidence for this theory, this case study points to an overarching, if not overwhelming, infusion of a certain uncanniness into existence.
Works Cited
Freud, Sigmund. The Uncanny, translated by David Mclintock. Penguin, 2003.
Ovid. “Apollo and Daphne.” The Metamorphoses, translated by Ian Johnston.
Vancouver Island University, 2017, lines 660-835.
Yalom, Irvin. “Fat Lady.” Love’s Executioner and Other Tales of Psychotherapy. Basic
Books, Inc., 1989, pp. 87-117.