The Introduction of Theseus

As the book of “Leuke” unfolds and Helen explores the significances that the island holds for her, Doolittle introduces Theseus, a character loosely based on Sigmund Freud. In her own experience with psychoanalysis, H.D. perceived Freud as being a conjurer or magician of sorts, a perception that surfaces throughout her depictions of Theseus in “Leuke.” While Doolittle remained aware of the contemporary cultural view of psychoanalysis as science, her understanding of it remained tempered by her interest in mysticism and hermeticism. As Barbara Guest explains, “…she wanted to go to the original magician, the Merlin, or the Theseus, as she would later call him. Superstition and intuition were the controls under which she worked, which Freud instantaneously must have recognized.” Doolittle’s depiction of Theseus in the seventh poem of the seventh book of “Leuke” embodies this aspect of the poet’s psychoanalytic journey. Although presenting the character as a grand mythical hero, he also appears as a conjurer of language and metaphor, often invoking hyperbole, anaphora, and a stately tone while counseling Helen, a stylistic decision that suggests the mythical journey inherent both introspection and psychoanalysis.

She conveys this idea stylistically when he speaks at the beginning of the poem, invoking both anaphora and lush garden imagery that contrasts sharply with the book’s desert setting:

In establishing Theseus’s voice, Doolittle’s continual use of repetition and anaphora in such phrases as “What flower…”, “what flower with a crown of gold,” “what flower, what purple, what fire…” create a regal tone, ultimately characterizing him as a mythical hero through both style and description. She describes Theseus as a guide through the introspective process, who would “recall, revitalize, reawaken Helen.”

In doing so, the poet portrays Theseus as using this ability to conjure and command metaphor to guide Helen, particularly as he describes the perils of her relationship with love interest Achilles. Using repetition and hyperbole (such as a “flower within a flower” and a “flower with a crown of gold”) to create an expectation on the part of the reader that the language will grow increasingly grand and exaggerated, Doolittle, in writing Theseus’s monologue, squelches this anticipation at the end of the poem. She writes, in conveying his opinion of Achilles, “…too great a suspense to endure, // too high the arrow, too taut the bow, / even a Spirit loves laughter, / did you laugh with Achilles? No.” Just as Helen’s interactions with her lover are “too great a suspense to endure,” the tone of Theseus’s soliloquy proves too hyperbolic to maintain, and the author ultimately punctures it with a terse “No.” Although depicting Theseus as both a conjurer of language and metaphor and a mythical hero, Doolittle suggests that Helen maintains her own interpretation of the recurring symbols of her life, which at times conflict with those of her guide. The overwrought hyperbole and lavish imagery at times suggest parody, rather than adulation.

Theseus Discovering
His Father’s Sword, 18th Century
(Oil on canvas, 287 x 159 cm)
BY Antonio Balestra
PRIVATE COLLECTION

While presenting him in an idealized manner, Doolittle also depicts this character’s entrance as secondary to Helen’s existing engagement with the symbols of her own life and their interpretation. As Georgia Johnston argues in The Formation of 20th Century Queer Autobiography, in her own experiences with Freud, Doolittle perceived herself as laying the foundation for her sessions with the famed analyst, and for extending his work long after. In other words, although Freud remained a mythical hero of sorts within her life and the text, Doolittle perceived herself being a peer or an equal, and depicts Helen in similarly egalitarian manner. Johnson writes, in describing H.D.’s own writings on her sessions with Freud, “Even so, Doolittle presents other scenes as if she is documenting actual occurrences, scenes that reiterate both her equality with Freud and his understanding that she will extend his work…Their relationship, despite her ‘tribute’ and acclamation of him as a ‘Master,’ was also one in which she perceived herself as an equal, as his successor.” In other words, she perceived herself as being both patient and analysand, and depicts her autobiographical counterpart in Helen in Egypt in terms of this revisionary model of psychoanalytic practice.

This double-minded view of Freud, in which he serves at turns as a necessary guide and a foil to the analysand’s own introspective work, recurs throughout earlier works like Tribute to Freud. Although Doolittle introduces him as the “blameless physician” in the dedication to the book, she seeks to problematize this view of the analyst throughout Tribute, much as she does in Helen in Egypt. She writes when describing her reaction to Freud’s grandiose observations in the memoir, “I have just readjusted the rug that had slipped to the floor. I have tucked my hands under the rug. I am wondering if the Professor caught me looking at my wristwatch.” In many ways, Doolittle questions the novelty of Freud’s interpretations by expressing her boredom. This reaction and its documentation in the memoir, however, must be read in light of Freud’s teaching methods with his pupils.