Oedipus Complex

Sigmund was starting to stir from his long slumber. He moaned and rolled over, still groggy. Slowly, little slits in his eyes opened. At a glance, he didn’t recognize his surroundings, so he shook his head, begging the fog of sleep to dissipate.

“Hmmm. Where am I?” he said aloud. His voice seemed to reverberate in the large room, sounding louder than he meant to speak and almost otherworldly.

Better keep quiet in case whoever brought me here isn’t friendly, he thought.

He stretched and sat up to get a better look, rubbing the remnants of sleep from his eyes. Nope, he was sure he had never been here before, and had no recollection as to how he arrived in this strange place. His heart skipped a beat.

Have I been kidnapped? Alarm bells started ringing in his head.

Wide awake now, he sat up, squinting, trying to make sense of each object he saw. The room was opulent, exquisite really. The ceiling was golden, ornate with elaborate carvings. Marble floors and fine furnishings completed the lavish decor.

It’s regal, almost castle-like. Well, even if I was kidnapped, this isn’t a bad place to land. This room is magnificent!

He pushed the silk brocade covers off of himself and stood to get a better view of the chamber.

He walked over to a massive window. The day was bright, blinding almost, as the sun reflected through the windows, bouncing off several snow-covered mountaintops in the distance. It hurt his eyes to look outside.

“Ah, very good, Sigmund. You are awake.” The strange voice startled him. He jumped, then turned toward the sound to see a man, or rather a man-like creature, entering the room. Sigmund gasped in fear when he saw the wings on the creature’s back.

The creature was smiling at him, carrying a tray of food and wine. He was slightly chubby, but still handsome, with blond hair and blue eyes. Not quite an Adonis, but an attractive face, nevertheless.

What is this place? Sigmund cowered behind a pillar as the thing set down the tray on a nearby table. I must be dreaming.

Still terrified, Sigmund took a deep breath and tried to apply some of his learned logic.

This dream must be a manifestation of some repressed desires. Hmmm-what do wings represent?

“Ah, I see you from your expression that you are analyzing the situation in which you find yourself. Wonderful! That is precisely why I brought you here!”

“Huh? Who. . .what are you? Wh…what is this place?” Sigmund countered.

“My name is Eros, the primordial god of love. Collectively, we primordial gods are the personification of all fundamental forces and physical entities in the universe. As for me personally, my father, Chaos, charged me with love and procreation. I am essential to the universe.”

“You expect me to believe you are God, creator of Heaven and Earth? With wings?”

“No, no. I am only one of the gods. I have a number of brothers and sisters. We will get to them shortly. But, sticking to the basics, I brought you here - to Mount Olympus. I need some insight and you are an expert on psychoanalysis. I am the god of love, but circumstances have me not feeling much love right now. Too many negatives are swirling around me. It’s depressing. I need to get that loving feeling back. You see…”

“I’m on Mount Olympus? And you are Eros, the Greek god of love?” Sigmund interrupted, as he moved from behind the pillar to a chair. He was understandably skeptical, but he was no longer afraid. If this dream-creature wanted to hurt him, it would have already.

“You got it, doc! Should I call you doc? Doctor? Or Sigmund? What do you prefer?”

“Sigmund or doc - either will do. Doctor sounds too formal, at least for a god to address little old me. I must say, this is quite a realistic dream! My psyche must be working overtime.”

“OK, doc, you need to pay attention. It was no small feat to borrow you from my brother Erebus, so I need you to hear me out. This situation is really bothersome. My large, dysfunctional family. They are the root of my distress.”

“That is not unusual,” Sigmund said, reverting to a more professional tone. “So, you cannot spread love, if you don’t feel love. Is that it? You don’t think your family loves you? I have seen this before.”

“No, doc. You are jumping ahead of things here. I am love. I feel love. I just cannot spread love around when I am so worried about my family. I love my family very much. But I also hate them.”

Sigmund furrowed his brow, listening intently. He needed to get a deeper understanding of the issues in order to help this poor soul trapped in his dream.

Eros leaned against the pillar, as if settling in for a long explanation. He motioned for Sigmund to grab a seat. Sigmund obliged, pouring himself a large glass of wine.

“First, I'll start at the beginning. My father – Chaos - everything begins with him, literally. Before Chaos, there was absolutely nothing. No heaven, no Earth. No sun, no moon. The universe was a void. Chaos filled that void with gusto, starting from scratch. He is responsible for all the heavens, the planets, and the Earth. But, everything in the universe was randomly connected. Under his rule, things were never orderly.”

“Ah,” Sigmund said. “So you blame your father….”

“No, not at all. It wasn’t his fault. He was pretty darn busy creating, no time to put things in order. So when he left, he charged the primordial gods, his children, to organize the universe.”

“I see,” interjected Sigmund, sipping on his wine. “And where did you, Eros, fit into this puzzle?”

“I am the eldest child of Chaos. As stated earlier, doc, I am essential to life, as the personification of love and procreation. My siblings and I all have different roles.”

“And let me guess,” Sigmund said. “You feel responsible for your family and want me to figure out the dynamics here. Me, a mere mortal, counseling a god? This is rich! … I’m not sure how to interpret this dream yet. But, please, go on.”

And Sigmund poured himself another glass of vino as he listened.

“Well, like I just said, we all have our unique roles in the universe. My brother Tartarus – he rules the abyss, the deepest, darkest part of the underworld. Tartarus is the opposite of me. Whereas I rule with love, he punishes wicked souls. He is also a valuable asset to the universe. By imprisoning wickedness, we maintain order.”

“Hmmm,” said Sigmund. “So you think you are good, bringing happiness and love to the world and your brother captures the bad, and holds them in darkness. Opposites. You are beloved and he is hated? That is how you see your roles? Very interesting.”

“Well, in a nutshell, yes. That’s basically how it works between us. I also have two younger siblings, they work together most of the time, so we can think of them as a pair. Erebus and Nyx. Nyx is the night; she represents the sky when the sun is sleeping, scattering the stars and allowing mortals time to sleep. Her brother, and sometimes lover, is Erebus, the all-encompassing darkness. He lives in the shadows and is the mist, the cloak of death, where souls find peace and sleep forever.”

“Oh, I see now. Your problem, at last. It is very disturbing. Erebus and Nyx are siblings but they are also lovers? Incestuous. Did you - the personification of love - play a role in this dysfunction?” Sigmund was listening in rapt attention. He was having fun now. This was in his wheelhouse. It might take a re-working or expansion to his Oedipus Complex theory, but he was approaching familiar territory. He almost forgot he was dealing with gods, and not some abnormal mortal attraction.

“No, I did not promote their love, but it is what it is.” Eros was growing a bit impatient.

Sigmund giggled, starting to feel the effects of the wine. “So the brother-sister love affair is of no concern to you. This is quite telling.”

“Doc, Nyx and Erebus are not the issue. The problem at hand is my other sister Gaia. She is the mother of Earth. You might be most familiar with her.”

“Yes, I have heard of Gaia, of course. But I think, especially given my chosen field, I am a tad more acquainted with aspects of love. So, given the choice, I think you are the most familiar god to me, Eros!”

Sigmund smirked, but Eros was not amused. “Fine, doc. But I’m serious. I need your analytical expertise here. If I don’t spread more love soon, the Earth may explode. You have wars that spawn more wars; hatred is flourishing. I need to understand how I can be stronger, make love defeat hate. My mind is not focused whilst I have concern for my family.”

“Very well. I’m listening.” Sigmund adopted a more serious countenance, as Eros continued.

“My sister, Gaia, is at the root of the dilemma. From Gaia, sprang three children, Uranus, Ourea and Pontus. Uranus ruled the sky, Ourea, the mountains, and Pontus, the sea. For a time, night and day, heaven and Earth were all well-ordered. The universe was calm.”

“So what’s the beef with your sister? Gaia sounds lovely,” Sigmund said, sipping his wine.

“I’m getting there… Uranus was very ambitious. He married Gaia and became the Supreme Ruler of the heavens and the Earth. For eons, Uranus was the most feared primordial god. A king of gods, if you will.”

Eros began pacing across the room, clearly agitated. “No one was brave enough to challenge his rule.”

“Oh. So Uranus and Gaia, son and mother, married and became lovers? Your family is the quintessential manifestation of my Oedipus Complex theory! Quite interesting. How’d that go? Their marriage?” Sigmund was curious.

“Well, they had many children, Uranus and Gaia. But as powerful as he was, Uranus was jealous of anyone that countered his commands-he saw them as a direct threat to his power. Even his own children were a threat.”

Sigmund looked sympathetic as Eros continued.

“Two of Gaia and Uranus’s youngest children were Hecantoncheires and Cyclopse. They were physically imposing - huge - but not exactly attractive. Truthfully, they were quite horrid looking. Hecantoncheires had one hundred hands and fifty heads, and Cyclopse had one eye. Uranus complained about their appearances as soon as they were born. He even threw them back in Gaia’s womb, in disgust, only to reject them again when they re-emerged.”

“So these two ugly - pardon my bluntness - these two ugly gods were born twice? They can’t have been very happy about that.”

“No, they weren’t. And Gaia was furious. Uranus harped on how unsightly they were, ungodly was the word he used most often. Nevertheless, he would have tolerated their ugliness, had they been weak and conforming. But, Hecantoncheires and Cyclopse were not shrinking violets. Gigantic and extremely strong, Uranus feared them. They controlled earthquakes and tsunamis, with the ability to wreak havoc on Gaia’s beloved Earth. She wanted them to remain at peace. Uranus wanted them punished just for being. Before too long, Uranus sent the pair to Tartarus.”

“Tartarus? That’s your brother in the underworld, right?” Sigmund asked, as he gulped down the last of his wine. “Why didn’t Tartarus just send them back?”

“You forget, at this time, Uranus was all powerful. No one could break his will unless he was weakened.”

“So what happened?” This is fascinating. I could create a whole new science based on this family alone!

Eros moved from the pillar to a lounge chair before continuing. He seemed more at ease now that he had Sigmund’s full attention.

“Well, Gaia was enraged. She was intent on imprisoning Uranus, and freeing Hecantoncheires and Cyclopse, but she was no match for her powerful husband/son. Cronus, the god of the harvest and youngest son of Gaia and Uranus, was the only one brave enough to tempt the wrath of his father.”

“Just to clarify, Cronus - Gaia and Uranus’s son - was also Gaia’s grandson. Is that right? All these incestuous relationships are quite confusing,” Sigmund said, and poured himself another glass of wine.

Eros nodded and continued. “So Gaia made a sharp sickle for Cronus, who, remember, was the god of the harvest. She let him into her chamber one night, whereupon Cronus proceeded to castrate his father, Uranus.”

“Egads!” said Sigmund, as he crossed his legs. He took another deep swig of wine and asked, “What happened next?”

“Well, Cronus banished his father, now weakened, to Tartarus and freed his siblings, Hecantoncheires and Cyclopse. We were all glad about that. Gaia threw a huge party for Cronus, who now became the most powerful god, after the defeat of his father.”

“So, everyone lived happily ever after?” asked Sigmund. “The end of the family drama?”

“Not quite,” responded Eros.

“There’s more?” Sigmund asked, almost gleefully. This story is just too good!

“Well, history tends to repeat itself. All this power now went to Cronus’s head. He became fearful about being overthrown, just like his father. It wasn’t long before he sent Hecantoncheires and Cyclopse back to Tartarus, also fearing their strength. Then he married his sister, Rhea. They ruled as king and queen for a time.”

“Geez. Doesn’t anyone in your family marry outside the family? At least, tell me - were they happy as husband and wife?”

“The short answer – no. Rhea and Cronus had many children of their own. But Gaia, incensed at Cronus for acting like his father, told him that his destiny would be the same. Cronus believed Gaia and became even more paranoid. He believed his children would one day overthrow him, just as he had overthrown Uranus.”

“So tell me, what did Cronus do?”

“His solution was to eat his children as soon as they were born. That way, they could not turn on him. This, of course, angered both Rhea and Gaia.”

Wow! His god-family is rife with psychoses - great study subjects!

“No doubt. Listen, Eros, I can deal with familial incest…sexual manifestations of all sorts. But cannibalism? … I don’t know anything about cannib…”

“We are almost finished. Hang in there, Siggy,” Eros said. “Rhea outsmarted Cronus. When it was time for her youngest son, Zeus, to be born, she traveled to Crete and gave birth in secret. She then gave Cronus a rock, swaddled in blankets and said that was their child. Cronus, unknowingly, swallowed the rock, leaving Zeus alive and well.”

“That was genius!” Sigmund said. “Brilliant!” He raised his wine glass as if to toast Rhea.

Eros continued. “Zeus is now grown, and I fear he is destined to overthrow Cronus.”

“Serves him right, the anthropophagus!”

“I quite agree. I have no love left for Cronus. So you see, that is the problem? I am love, but I can’t spread love if I don’t feel love. It has weakened me.”

“Let me ask you, Eros. Do you love your sister, Gaia?”

“Of course I do.”

“Do you love Zeus, your nephew or whatever he is.”

“Absolutely.”

“Do you love your brother or nephew or – you know, Cronus?”

Sigmund trembled at the sight of raw rage emanating from Eros’s face. His voice rumbling with controlled anger, Eros responded. “What kind of god do you think I am-to love a god who eats his own children?”

“Hey, don’t bite my head off! I’m just trying to analyze the situation. I think that it’s healthy, to be angered by Cronus. He is evil – bad. So, I’d say, leave the fate of Cronus to the others. Save your love for those that deserve it. But, honestly, this will take more than one session to work out. You have very complicated family dynamics.”

I still got it! Sigmund thought, pleased with himself. He looked around and thought about how nice it would be to stay here and advise the gods. “More wine please, Eros.”