In September 1904, Sigmund Freud embarked on his annual Mediterranean vacation with his brother Alexander. Their original destination was Corfu, but due to the intense heat, they chose to travel by ship from Trieste to Athens instead. When they arrived in Athens, they decided to climb the hill to visit the Acropolis. It was during this visit that Freud experienced an overwhelming and perplexing sensation. He later wrote, “By the evidence of my senses I am now standing on the Acropolis, but I cannot believe it.” This wasn’t just the typical amazement one feels as a tourist at famous landmarks like Machu Picchu or the Pyramids. Freud felt a complete disbelief that the Acropolis actually existed. Despite having read about it since childhood and seen engravings and daguerreotypes of the Parthenon, being there in person brought about feelings of guilt and disbelief.
The Freud family fled from Vienna to London in 1938 to escape the Nazis, and their final residence, 20 Maresfield Gardens, is now the Freud Museum. The museum currently features a captivating exhibition centered around Freud’s essay, “A Disturbance of Memory on the Acropolis,” which he wrote when he was nearly 80 years old. In this essay, Freud attempts to analyze himself and his experience on the Acropolis after 32 years of contemplation. It explores the strange unease we sometimes feel despite being in a place of great beauty or significance.
The exhibition showcases postcards, letters, documents, and various images related to Freud’s experience. It also includes objects and sculptures that Freud collected, such as prints of the Acropolis by German Romantic artists. Freud had a strong interest in Ancient Greek culture from a young age, even keeping a diary in Ancient Greek and suggesting that his baby brother be named after Alexander the Great. The exhibition features photographs and cards depicting the hotel where Freud stayed, the restaurant he dined in, and the ship he sailed on, including a haunting image of the Urano drifting on pale waters.
Freud’s journey to the Acropolis was unintentional, as he and his brother were originally headed for Corfu. Along the way, Freud kept noticing the numbers 61 and 62, which prompted thoughts of his own mortality. He wore his best shirt to climb the hill, adding to the significance of the experience. His disbelief upon arrival is compared to the shock of seeing the Loch Ness monster, realizing that the stories he heard in school were true. The exhibition includes serpentine objects, such as bracelets and statues, that may have held different meanings for Freud. Unfortunately, the museum containing the statues of Athena was closed on the day Freud visited, depriving him of seeing the goddess that haunted his thoughts.
Freud’s late realization is that his response to being on the Acropolis is a form of rejection related to his father. He struggled with the idea of surpassing his father and going further in life. The exhibit showcases a photograph of Freud’s father, Jakob, with a book on his lap, symbolizing knowledge, while young Sigmund stands beside him with a skeptical expression. This inward reflection intertwines with Freud’s disbelief in the existence of the Acropolis itself.
One notable artifact in the exhibition is a tiny clay mould of an Ancient Greek head that contains a negative face inside. It represents the blurred boundaries between Freud’s inner thoughts and his external experiences. Finally, the original essay itself, written as a letter to Romain Rolland, is displayed. Freud’s handwriting in the later years of his life resembles recurring ripples, rising from bottom left to top right. It took him over 30 years to fully process his experience and his final realizations are both startling and intertwined with his entire existence. Three years later, Freud passed away from jaw cancer in the same house where the letter now rests. His ashes were sealed in a Grecian urn at Golders Green.