Times when life's events nearly convince me that life is more than mere coincidence of unrelated events: just before the semester started, I'd been reading Salley Vickers's Where Three Roads Meet, a novel on Freud and the story of Oedipus. Lo and behold, the module Literature and Psychoanalysis covers Freud's work on dreams and the Oedipal Complex. Freud was widely seen as a lunatic, but I'm actually finding some sense in his writing on dreams! Hope it doesn't mean I'm cuckoo myself... Somehow the theory of dream formation in my mind links to the writing of literature, and perhaps this is why Freud's theories can illuminate the study of literature...
Aiyah, I'm just rambling.
read my mind
Got a Craving?
