Friday, July 23, 2010

Analyzing A Dream Through Freud's Literary Criticism Theories

This is a dream that has haunted me for quite some time, so long in fact, that I decided to finally write it down. I have kept it to myself up until now. In an attempt to decipher what it means, I will analyze it through Freud's essay "Interpretation of Dreams".

Part 1: The "Gift":

The mall is filled with people, people running, scrambling, falling, screaming. I am huddled against my mother as she holds my head tight against her waist. I squeeze my eyes shut tight; I can’t let them see me, see my eyes especially. We crouch behind a planter near a broken escalator.

Before I tell you anymore, I have to open my eyes for a second.

I keep my eyes moving, darting from body to body at waist level, watching and scanning for them. They are everywhere and then nowhere. No one else knows which is which, who is who, only me. I have been given a gift, cursed really, with special eyes. I close them again, press my face against my mother and whisper to her, “We have to get out; the whole place is going to crash down.” As I say this, two more explosions go off; two planters shatter and spray the air with ceramic and dirt. Screams fill my ears and moaning injured people reach out for and beg for their dying loved ones.

I run with my mom, keeping my eyes on the ground, not daring to look into any faces. Not yet. Explosions are getting closer together and debris is flying everywhere. We run to the parking structure our car is in, we parked in an edge spot and the car next to ours is crushed. The structure looks like it has been toppled with a punch, its frame all buckled. Anyone or anything that was in the three stories is layered like cake and smashed practically flat.

I look around quickly and see their dirty green and grey dirt covered pants as they chase the people who are running out of the mall. Everyone is dying and no one can stop it, no one but me.

I am seven years old to the world but not on the inside, inside I am different, like a 25 year old brain with a 7 year old body. I can see who is dead, who is human, who is undead, who used to be human. Their bodies look human enough; the dirt on their pants and clothes only looks different to me. Their eyes’ milky black pupils only shock me as I glance at them and away, everyone else is too busy running. To the rest of the world, they look like construction workers or gardeners, dirty from a hard day’s work. They do not detect me or know that I can distinguish them from the humans unless we lock eyes. Then they will know that I can see them and they will call their friends and come for me.

It’s time. I have to help these people. I have to run on my own, my mother is in danger and she is slowing me down as well. You see, my eyes are different but that is not my entire gift. I can run. Fast. And I am smarter than the average 7 year old, smarter from an accelerated education and special training but also from memories I don’t know how I have. I am supposed to stop this and save the people, they taught me how; about guns and bombs. They are the doctors and the people who knew about this and who knew I was the answer.

I reach for my mom and pull her to my face, “Go mom. Go. Get into the car and go to dad and get away; go as far as possible and wait.” I run. I run around the entire mall, counting the ones I can see from the dirt around them. As I run, I see dead bodies and torn limbs, much more than I ever wanted to see. I have to get back to the laboratory, to the hospital. I have to get help. I’ll find Dr. Josephs to get the tranquilizer guns and poison tubes; they are the only thing that will kill the mutants.

I am thinking about how to get there fastest when I lock eyes with a tall man crouching down at something, he is one of them. He screeches and laughs while taking long leaps to get to me. He is after me now and is calling friends so I run to the demolished parking structure. I round a corner and roll, crawling among the crushed cars and ruble into darkness. They will not find me here. I slow my breathing to a silent inhale and exhale and close my eyes. They cannot find me without my eyes open so I am safe for a few minutes.

I smell death. I smell human flesh burning. Random cars around me are on fire and I can tell there were people in some of them. I hold back tears and sadness rushes over me in a chill. I hold back the desire to find my mom and dad and to be the 7 year old boy I am on the outside. I find my way out of the tiny space I fit my body into and search the ground for signs of the undead around me. I do not find the greenish gray dirt in little piles that I expect. There are no strips of decaying clothing. This parking structure exploded through the use of car bombs planted before the cars drove in.

They’re everywhere. They are in my neighborhood now, the street I have been playing with my friends in, hiding among the other young boys. No one even knew, not even me. How could this happen?

I run again. I come to the office of Dr. Jospehs. He is sitting and reading at his desk, he must not know that they’ve come back. My heart is pounding against my chest. I walk in and sit, catching my breath for once. I tell him, “The ones you sent away are back. The ones that died all together that day, the ones whose bodies you sent away to space, they have come and are killing everyone. I see the dirt and their rotting clothes. I know their eyes and they know it is me if they catch me looking.”

He replies slowly, “It is time then. It is your time my son. You have the gift and you will save us. I thought it would be later and that you would be older, but now is the time.”

I realize that this is not a choice, whether or not to do this, I have to do this. I have to stop the killing because they won’t stop and they will leave this town quickly and travel.

Dr. Josephs continues, “I knew they would come back here, to this town. This is their home, they have not forgotten.”

“I understand. What should I do now? Tell me what to do.”

“You have to call them to you. You have to bring them together and you have to poison them all. It is the only way. Poison the air and they will be paralyzed for a while when it enters their nostrils and their lungs. Then, you can shoot as many as you can with the poison and it will blacken their blood and they will die. I will come and help you shoot them when they are paralyzed. I will shoot the ones that you cannot get to.”

He tells me about an old school that has been condemned. The auditorium will be big enough to fit them in. I will have to go to the mall and show myself. I will have to let them see my eyes and then they will follow me.

I leave the office carrying so much that I feel like I am running in slow motion even though I still run faster than anyone I know. I run to drop off the supplies at the school and then I head for the mall. The area around the mall is already looking different. People are running through the streets.

I turn my face up and start looking at everyone’s faces. Immediately, I see a few of them gathered around a body. I look into each of their eyes as I run past and into a larger group of people. I look at every single face. One and two and three start to follow me. I yell to them and make sure they can follow me as I run through the crowd. I keep glancing back so they continue to spot my eyes.

I turn and run for the school. They are jumping now and chasing and the group is growing larger. It is working. I hope that the doctor is there and the gas is spreading through the auditorium.

Part 2: The Analysis

Sigmund Freud states that “dream thoughts and the dream-content are presented to us like two versions of the same subject-matter in two different languages” (819). With this thought in mind, an analysis of the above detailed dream must begin by pulling out the most dominant images and thoughts from the dream. In reviewing the dream, one finds the important elements to be: large groups of people, mother and child (absent father), explosions and death including sounds, sights, and scents associated with such images, running, older mind in a younger body (7 year old male main character with a 25 year old, possibly female mind), feeling alone, a great responsibility, and sight/ vision/eye images. If Freud is correct in assuming that the dream is just thoughts and content in a different language than that which one is familiar with, then by drawing out the above mentioned elements, one can see what the dream is trying to explain. By placing multiple science fiction-like images and events in the dream, it becomes much less real in content but by stripping these nonsensical elements away, the inner messages are quite clear. Freud continues: “…in the dream-work a psychical force is operating which on the one hand strips the elements which have a high psychical value of their intensity, and on the other hand, by means of over-determination, creates from elements of low psychical value new values, which find their way into the dream-content” (820). This can be seen in the minimal emphasis that is given to the mother-child relationship and the significance of the age/mind discrepancy in the young boy (without disregarding the fact that the dreamer in this case is a late-twenties female) and instead great focus is given to the zombie-mutants, the destruction they cause, and their physical features. Reversal or transference of the importance of these elements reminds the dream analyst that what is important in the dream may not be important in the dream thoughts.
Not only is it important to extract the elements that should be of importance, but it is also important to pay attention to connections of two things in a dream, according to Freud. He explains: “Whenever [the dream] shows us two elements together, this guarantees that there is some special intimate connection between what correspond to them among dream-thought” (822). With this in mind, another look at the dream-content shows clear connections between the mother and child, a sense of fear, and an emphasis on sight. One can also see connections between what the boy feels inside and how he is on the outside. The discrepancies in the dream are taken into account when Freud says: “The way in which dreams treat the category of contraries and contradictories is highly remarkable. It is simply disregarded” (824). Thus, through Freud’s eyes, the fact that the dreamer is a grown woman and the character she embodies in her dream is a young boy is only important in that it signifies something, not in that it does not make sense. Also, the idea that zombies have taken over the town and the boy has to stop them is of no significance. It only means that this boy feels a great burden of responsibility.
With all of Freud’s theories about dream interpretation in mind, one may draw the conclusion that the dreamer feels that she is older on the inside that the outside, that she has great responsibilities to protect family members and may have a fear of losing loved ones to death or destruction. Along with these ideas, one may conclude that the dreamer feels alone in her responsibility and also feels that many people do not see or choose not to them. Freud would not leave out the connection between the mother and child and the absence of the father in the dream, which is a connection that may be explained through the Oedipus or Electra complexes. Possibly, the dreamer has severed ties with her father figure and has placed both parental roles on the mother to whom she is greatly connected.
Regardless of how one interprets the images or dream content, a review of such a detailed dream reveals and reinforces the fact that Sigmund Freud’s theories are a gift to the world of psychoanalytical thinking.

Works Cited

Cain, Finke, Johnson, Leitch, McGowan, Sharpley-Witing, Williams, eds. The Norton Anthology of Theory and Criticism. Second Edition. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 2010. Print.

Freud, Sigmund. "The Interpretation of Dreams." The Norton Anthology of Theory and Criticism. 814-24.

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