Jottings - Slice of life - 242 ( Dr Sigmund freud and Fazil’s masterpiece)

( A word to my readers : My essays are progressively getting longer and longer. I apologize. But on a postive note, I am sure there are readers who would want to read ( in the original sense the word was meant to be understood) with active involvement , not just glance through and will find time in their busy schedules to accommodate this task. Hopefully, the time you invest will not go in vain. Thanks for your patience)

In 1900, a book appeared that was to change the way human mind was perceived. Dr Sigmund Freud, an Austrian doctor , handed “The interpretations of dreams” to his publisher in 1899, but the editor sensing the historic connotation of the book and its place in human thought, chose to release the book of few hundred copies in 1900. How wise!!. It was a book whose influence continue to be be felt even today, and Freud is best known for this work among the dozens he penned during his long career. It is interesting that Freud ended this epochal book with a quotation from Virgil’s Aeneid “If I cannot bend the Gods on High, I will move the infernal powers below”. It was a brilliant and most apt quotation, to sum up what he had unearthed and presented to a world which felt safe and secure in its progress. The last year of Nineteenth century was filled with lot of optimism - in the sciences, in medicine, in the world order, in ideologies. There was sense of pride that Mankind, like Prometheus, managed to wrench the secrets of the universe from God, and we had overcome our base instinctual tendencies. Progress was in the air when the twentieth century began. Little did anyone know that within fifty years, two world wars, inhumane Nazi atrocities, atomic bombs, Einstein’s relativity, existential alienation, environmental pollution, marxism and its call for equality would throw the century into inner chaos. The sure steps of advancement, and the sense of human mastery over oneself and nature was to be quickly undermined by a series of catastrophic events, and serious thinkers began to wonder why and how. The depths of Human depravity under the Nazi regime that came to light during the closing years of Second world war, stunned and numbed the pride of those who insisted and persisted that Man is a rational being capable of reasoned actions only. The entire edifice of our education, sciences was based on this strong foundation of rationality. When that foundation was shaken to its roots, an explanation was sorely needed to assuage the pain, hide our shame, and understand the human mind better. Sigmund Freud had already indicated with strong evidence at an explanation in the turn of the century. “Interpretation of Dreams” made the bold claim that there is a reservoir of unconscious memories and experiences in every human brain. During dreams, these latent imprints forge a narrative to reconcile themselves with unfinished wants and expectations. What is remembered as dream is just one aspect of it, but fueling those kaleidoscopic patterns from below are stronger imprints created during infancy and boyhood, which direct and control the behavior during waking hours. Dreams are unconscious intimations of what we do consciously. This was a bold hypothesis, one that doctors have always suspected and brushed aside for over hundred years for want for proof and professional courage. Freud had both, and in the psychiatrist’s couch he demonstrated the possibility of drawing out thoughts, emotions and experiences from the inner most recesses of his patients, and bring them in touch with their source of action. In that harmonizing moment, the patient realizes with striking clarity the rational for his behavior and is no more a victim to its tenacious grip. In short, he or she is liberated and integrated to work functionally in the world outside. In one stroke, Freud broke down the distinction between mentally ill patients and normal human being. Everyone has unconsciously pulls and tugs, and those who are seemingly normal manage to keep the simmering forces of painful memories and expectations under control, but those who cannot keep the lid so tightly on the chaos inside are prone to psychotic breaks and physical manifestations of it. The carnage of the two world wars, and the unbelievable atrocities seemed to vindicated Freuds claims.

But Freud exaggerated childhood influence and oedipal complexes to explain every aspect of mental imbalance. This is where he parted ways with Jung and Adler, who proposed a broader framework for psychic integration . Under his teacher, the great Josef Breuer, Freud had early on glimpsed at the technique of free association ( allowing the patient to talk without restraint) without hypnosis - which was the standard method to treat mental disorders, and in patients Freud initially treated, he discovered that they predominantly displayed sexual abuse or unhappy childhoods. Thus his premise was formed, and he boldly extrapolated his findings. Sophocles, the Greek playwright had coined the “Oedipal” to refer to the parental infatuation, and Freud borrowed and used it in a broader sense. The “Interpretations of dreams” is a work of great literary beauty as well. Freud knew how to present his findings in elegant style to attract sensitive artists, and at the same time write with scientific rigor to appease the discerning scientist. During his lifetime, he revised the book around six times, with each iteration he continued to substantiate his initial theses, never refining any findings but adding more cases and to corroborate his original idea, despite growing evidence to the contrary. In the latter half of the twentieth century, Freud lost his place. His work was repudiated in many aspects, and most doctors do not refer to him at all in modern psychoanalysis studies. But the revolution he triggered by bringing the subject of “Unconscious” into the public domain, and giving dreams the legitimacy it deserved as source of understanding human behavior still holds good. Jung, his colleague, friend and well wisher, acknowledged Freuds work till the very end of his life, even though, his own work had gone far beyond the narrow interpretations of Freud.

With the pandora’s box of unconscious open, movies adopted the notion of a split mind with great enthusiasm. It made a perfect recipe for a mystery. Alfred Hitchcock used the dark side of the human mind to great effect in his work. “pyscho” - his masterpiece, based out of Robert Loch’s novel of the same name, is straight out of Freudian literature. The young, shy, handsome motel owner, gives vent to his abuse and humiliation in his alter ego, who dresses like a woman (his mother) and slashes any pretenders to his male counterpart’s affection. The 1991 adaption of Thomas Harris “The silence of the lambs” beautifully portrays the slow opening of Agent Clarice’s distorted and painful past in the farms of her step father by the subtle Dr. Lector - played to perfection by Anthony Hopkins. Echoes of Freud reverberate in those impeccably crafted scenes. Michael Caine in “dressed to Kill”, Hopkins again in Stephens kings’s “shining”, or Christian Bale in “American pyscho” - all of them project a self that cries out for recognition and takes devious forms in the world outside.

Indian cinema has also dabbled with this theme in few slasher movies, but no film has managed to capture the dichotomy of the human mind in as clear terms as Director Fazil did in his 1993 Malayalam movie “Manichitrathazhu” . It is difficult to write this word in english, handicapped as the language is by the lack of certain tonal constructs. Etymologically, the title refers to an ornate lock used in old Tharavadu ( ancestral homes) mansions in Kerala to lock up valuables handed over across generations. The choice of Fazil’s title is exemplary. The lock refers to those shadowy areas of the mind which are not readily bought into consciousness, and anyone who has the knack of opening those locks judiciously holds the key to infinite riches within. No title can be more appropriate to freudian idea of locked memories and experiences. Fazil’s story is based on the arrival of young couple to an ancient ancestral mansion to spend time with family. The girl, played with measured finesse, tempered eloquence and superior art, by Shobhana, is a city born girl whose parents migrate to a foreign country leaving the young girl in the care of her Grandma living in ancestral village amidst traditions, stories and rituals. In the process of growing up, Ganga’s childhood imprints of happily laying her face in the laps of her grandma, losing herself in the mythes woven so tactfully, fantasizing a world which is far away from reality - is subsumed and suppressed when she moves back to town, meets her fiancee and eventually marries him. The process of individuation, as Freud and Jung calls it, is nothing but evolving a selfhood appropriate to ones stage in life. Our childhood memories slowly fade away , not completely lost, into the mists of time and folds of the brain. When Ganga arrives at the mansion, a queer tingle surges through her veins, a remembrance so old begs to raise its head. The huge house, with its massive halls, dining rooms, curving stair cases, hidden rooms with heavily protected locks forged by rituals and mystic incantations - raises her unconscious antenna from its deep slumber. One such room on the top floor attracts her attention. It’s elaborate locks, and the advice of elders in the family against entering that chamber only serves to kindle a secret desire in Ganga to violate those dictates. Freud would have noted the awakening of childhood experiences. Ganga breaks the taboo, and enters it only to be lost in ancient patina of the room where a tragedy is supposed to have happened, and the restless soul of the deceased dancer (Nagavalli) is confined to divine sanctions secured by locks that cannot be broken at any cost. This is the right recipe for psychotic break in a girl whose memories are fragile and waiting for a vent. Unknown to her waking self, Ganga begins to lead a second life, a life which imitates Nagavalli, who again according to the story, was killed along with her lover by a jealous king. At the time of her death, Nagavalli swears revenge and plans to return on a particular festive day to exact her revenge. Therefore the need to confine her bereaving spirit. So goes the tale in the family. This apocryphal story of Nagavalli, her tragedy and the pathos strikes a resonant chord in psychologically pliant Ganga. A huge picture of Nagavalli in a mesmerizing posture of classical bharatanatyam enchants Ganga. Her hibernating memories stir to the vibrations the picture, the house and the story invokes. Very soon mysterious acts of commotion starts occurring around the mansion, and very close family members are put in dangerous and compromising positions. Ganga’s husband calls his close friend, a psychiatrist Sunny to spend time and understand what is happening. From there on, director Fazil handles the psychological drama and the gradual process of unveiling the mental sickness in Ganga quiet beautifully. There is one particular sequence, that will remain etched in collective memory forever. When Ganga’s Husband is asked by Sunny to confront his wife and bring out her alter-ego, Fazil creates an eeriness that equals Hitchcock, even surpasses it. Shobana, in those few minutes, enacts one of the greatest performances in the history of Indian cinema. Her voice, eyes, her facial expression, her bodily demeanor, almost everything about her, slowly changes as the questions from her husband get more and more uncomfortable. The rational self is unable to accommodate the gaps in her narrative, and in one poignant moment, the unconscious breaks through her normal self with terrible violence, and manifests itself in all its hissing brutality. The “other “ personality takes over completely, and audiences world wide watch with breath taking silence and incredulity the portrayal of multiple personality disorder, no matter how many times the scene is replayed. Shobhana went on to win a national award for her work, and so did the movie.

Manichitrathazhu has been remade in several regional languages with big names in important roles. None of them, in my opinion, capture even an iota of the essence Fazil framed for us. The copies may have been commercial successes, but as works of art they are no way close to Manichitrathazhu. I still remember, much after the movie was released, we had gone on a road trip to Padmanabhapuram palace near Trivandrum - where this movie was predominantly shot. We walked around those big halls, dining rooms that could accommodate more than thousand people at a time, the marbled and granite floors, darks portions of the mansion which bought out memories of Nagavalli and Fazil’s sumptuous story. The curator of the palace at that time, however, told us that they would be very careful renting this palace for any other movie production. The heavy glaring lights, the laborious shooting equipment had caused the delicate flooring to disintegrate a little. Cracks were appearing here and there. But on a parting note, I remembered the lanky, dhoti clad, curator telling us he was happy with Fazil’s work and the theme. The palace proved the right setting for his psychological drama. No artificial set could have matched the solemn atmosphere of the original.

After over hundred years, Freud’s work may be open to dispute, but what he pioneered still lingers, gathering more adherents who are better equipped to study the human mind than he was. Art has also embraced the Freudian theory and used it to its own advantage. As long as psychology exists as a separate branch of medicine, the name of Freud will live on. His contribution at a critical stage in human history was essential to bringing man back to earth again by pointing out the fragility of his proud rational self.

God bless…

yours in mortality,

Bala