The Final Analysis

THE greatest irony of “Culture and Conflict,” the Library of Congress’s show on Sigmund Freud, celebrating a century of psychoanalysis, is that it opened in Washington, D.C., that black hole of self-awareness, particularly under the Clinton Administration. New York, articulate and neurotic, only gets the second crack at it. The Chief Executive hits on a 21-year-old amateur underwear model, and lies about it compulsively; where does he seek help? A United Methodist minister. The First Lady, not surprisingly, wants intellectual stimulation and moral support. She turns to a liberal rabbi and the spirit of Eleanor Roosevelt. The electorate that voted for Bill Clinton twice looks up to Oprah Winfrey and her thirteen steps (Step Thirteen: Oprah is the Higher Power). When they want help that insurance will cover, some future version of the Clinton Health Care Plan or its private-sector imitators, the HMOs, will prescribe ten sessions of short-term therapy. No wonder we are a nation of children, presided over by a stunted boy. Sometimes, Freud said, a cigar is just a cigar, but sometimes it is more. Don’t expect anyone in Washington to think so.

Like every cultural comet, “Culture and Conflict” trails a tail of gift-shop paraphernalia, that charms and blurs. There are coffee mugs labeled “Freudian Sip,” and pillowcases inscribed “Interpretation of Dreams.” The books for sale are those of hostile academics, such as the literary critic Frederick Crews and the philosophy professor Frank Cioffi (a comparable situation would be a Jefferson show, featuring books by George III and black radical Leonard Jeffries). There is also the Modern Library edition of Freud’s greatest hits, in the translation of A. A. Brill, which was thought to be clumsy and inaccurate when it appeared in 1938.

About the Author

Richard Brookhiser

Historian Richard Brookhiser is a senior editor of National Review and a senior fellow at the National Review Institute.

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THE greatest irony of “Culture and Conflict,” the Library of Congress’s show on Sigmund Freud, celebrating a century of psychoanalysis, is that it opened in Washington, D.C., that black hole of self-awareness, particularly under the Clinton Administration. New York, articulate and neurotic, only gets the second crack at it. The Chief Executive hits on a 21-year-old amateur underwear model, and lies about it compulsively; where does he seek help? A United Methodist minister. The First Lady, not surprisingly, wants intellectual stimulation and moral support. She turns to a liberal rabbi and the spirit of Eleanor Roosevelt. The electorate that voted for Bill Clinton twice looks up to Oprah Winfrey and her thirteen steps (Step Thirteen: Oprah is the Higher Power). When they want help that insurance will cover, some future version of the Clinton Health Care Plan or its private-sector imitators, the HMOs, will prescribe ten sessions of short-term therapy. No wonder we are a nation of children, presided over by a stunted boy. Sometimes, Freud said, a cigar is just a cigar, but sometimes it is more. Don’t expect anyone in Washington to think so.

Like every cultural comet, “Culture and Conflict” trails a tail of gift-shop paraphernalia, that charms and blurs. There are coffee mugs labeled “Freudian Sip,” and pillowcases inscribed “Interpretation of Dreams.” The books for sale are those of hostile academics, such as the literary critic Frederick Crews and the philosophy professor Frank Cioffi (a comparable situation would be a Jefferson show, featuring books by George III and black radical Leonard Jeffries). There is also the Modern Library edition of Freud’s greatest hits, in the translation of A. A. Brill, which was thought to be clumsy and inaccurate when it appeared in 1938.