我的俄狄浦斯情结
我的俄狄浦斯情结
and had little chance to know the diffenence between The author distorts father’s role-model in a family and introduces sibling rivalry into Oedipus Complex, which gives readers a brand
Indication: lock of father's love
childish, but behaves like an adult person, and observes things in detail and analyzes them logically.
• 1) Because of the lock of father's love, he was Larry, a five-year-old boy, grew up in his own safe world with just himself and his mother.
• I put my feet out from under the clothes--I called them Mrs. Left and Mrs. Right--and invented dramatic situations for them in which they discussed the problems of the day.
• What are the characteristics of Larry?
• cares a lot about his mother. • childish, but behaves like an adult person, and
我的俄狄浦斯情结讲课文档
No.
• “My Oedipus Complex” is a piece of artistic creativity ( sibling rivalry) rather than scientific experiment of Freudianism. The author distorts father’s role-model in a family and introduces sibling rivalry into Oedipus Complex, which gives readers a brand new understanding of human relations.
seemed like the signs of the past. However, She didn't understand these, therefore, her husband's treasures meaned just toys for her.
• Father got hurt because her wife didin't understand him, even worse, she didn't treat her husband as a man, but another Larry.
• Why did Larry call them Mrs left and Mrs Right? What did this indicate？
第五页，共18页。
• 1) Because of the lock of father's love, he was relying too much on his mother.
Analysis on the My Oedipus Complex 我的俄狄浦斯情结 英语小说选读 分析 原创
Name 郭琦Class: ENo.12009011100Course: 英语小说选读Date: 2012.2 Analysis on the My Oedipus ComplexMy Oedipus complex is a short story written by an Irish author called Frank O’Connor who was best known for his short stories and plays all over the world. In his entire life, Frank O’Connor wrote 150 short stories, novels, plays and some other things. In this My Oedipus complex, he tells people a story of a five years old boy Larry who has to come to the difficulties caused by his instinctive jealousy and envy. The writer tells us this story in the view of a five years old boy who is trying to fight with his father coming back home from the war to gain the attention and time and love from his mother. Such short story arises huge resonances among different kinds of people for the situation is just part of our childhood more or less, and it shows us the contradiction between people’s instinct motions.The whole story sets on the point of view of little Larry, the five years old boy who enjoys the cares and love of his mother before his father, a soldier who join the army, comes back from the war. Larry enjoys the company of his mother, playing, talking, and always being together. All of this joyful things turn into jealous mood when his unfamiliar father comes back home unexpectedly who takes away the whole attention of the previous love from his mother. Such feelings occurred to me when I look back to my childhood where I have the same thoughts with Larry and I can fully understand how helpless the jealousy is.Actually, when his father appears in the house, little Larry just does not get used to his father without the army uniform. But the turning point is that he feels being ignored and boring for the first day his father comes home while his mother keeps laying her attentions on this hardly knows man. In the beginning, the young boy acts in excitement and contentment ways when his father arrives unexpectedly on the visit from the army. The day his father came home from the war, everything changed forLarry. Without the uniform on the man’s body, or even no souvenirs from the mysterious war, Larry comes to show out the unpleasant mood, this is, as to Larry, the first time in his life without having all of the attention of his mother and for the first time in his life he feels being neglected. At this time, the conflict begins to become clear and easygoing. Larry does not clear that the love and attention were going to be sharing between his little-known father and him. And he does not know that the whole family is going to be supported by getting a job of his father. The little boy keeps his hate for his father and does everything he can to against his father in his own ways.The funny point in that he thinks he can stay with his mother by marrying his mother, and Larry even thinks to that he can send his father back to the war through the pray the God. However, he gets a little boy after his father comes back from the army. After this, Larry turns his attention from the disgusting father to the cute little son whose name is Sonny. At this time, Larry has to trying his effort to grasp the attention of his mother.In this short story by Frank O’Connor’s there are two main views, firstly, the puzzle of the little boy a bout his mother’s attention. Secondly, it leaves people a deep thinking about the nature emotion when we were small child. The whole simple description about the relation between his parents and the little Sonny: the world only contains him and his mother, father and the little baby come into his life. These descriptions are extremely smooth and beautiful, which also implies us the common phenomenon when regarding people as animals. As human beings, both boys and girls have the love emotion which beyond description about mothers and fathers.My Oedipus Complex is a simple and humorous short story which can leave the readers an enjoyable feeling. Just as the introduction of this book says: Not only is the story memorable for its ironical use of Sigmund Freud’s interpretation of the Oedipal myth, but is also captivating for the amused evocation of the little boy’s. I really enjoy reading this book because it allows me to look back on a series of events that happened several years ago and to see them in a totally different light now. Likewise, I agree with that reading about Larry pushes me to understand more about the love between parents and children, and come to realize why the little child relies on theirparents so much in today: children do some things not because they are afraid of losing their mothers, but the adoration to them.。
我的俄狄浦斯情结优选演示
the cruety of the war
• When his back was turned, Mother let me get a chair and rummage through his treasures. She didn't seem to think so highly of them as he did.
• I put my feet out from under the clothes--I called them Mrs. Left and Mrs. Right--and invented dramatic situations for them in which they discussed the problems of the day.
• Why didn't Mother care about Father's staff? Why did Father get hurt?
The first version:
• Father suffered a lot from the war, and these things seemed like the signs of the past. However, She didn't understand these, therefore, her husband's treasures meaned just toys for her.
• 2）Because of the WWI, most of men were on the battlefiled, so Larry spent many times with women and had little chance to know the diffenence between Mrs and Mr.
浅析俄狄浦斯情结
浅析俄狄浦斯情结摘要：本文通过俄狄浦斯情结产生的历史背景阐述俄狄浦斯情节的内涵；俄狄普斯情结对弗洛伊德所提到的人格结构“本我”，“自我”，“超我”的形成起着重大的决定作用；最后通过分析人类在成长中表现出来的俄狄浦斯情结的三个阶段阐述俄狄浦斯情节对现实社会中人格结构形成的重要意义。
关键词：俄狄浦斯情结；本我；自我；超我谈到俄狄普斯情结，我们就会想到恋母情结或是恋父情结，对多数人而言，这种观念对于他们的道德背景简直是一种侮辱，他们很不容易接受这种感觉。
即使有人只是稍微暗示到“乱伦“这两个字，他们马上就会产生很强烈的嫌恶。
我们常可看到的是：某个男人与一个年纪大他很多的女人结婚，那就是这方面的好例子。
那么先让我们了解下有关俄狄浦斯王的故事。
拉伊奥斯年轻时曾经劫走国王佩洛普斯（Pelops）的儿子克律西波斯（Chrysippus），因此遭到诅咒，他的儿子俄狄浦斯出生时，神谕表示他会被儿子所杀死，为了逃避命运，拉伊奥斯刺穿了新生儿的脚踝（oidipous 在希腊文的意思即为“肿胀的脚”），并将他丢弃在野外等死。
然而奉命执行的牧人心生怜悯，偷偷将婴儿转送给科林斯（Corinth）的国王波吕波斯（Polybus），由他们当作亲生儿子般地扶养长大。
俄狄浦斯长大后，因为德尔菲（Delphi）神殿的神谕说，他会弑父娶母，不知道科林斯国王与王后并非自己亲生父母的俄狄浦斯，为避免神谕成真，便离开科林斯并发誓永不再回来。
俄狄浦斯流浪到忒拜附近时，在一个岔路上与一群陌生人发生冲突，失手杀了人，其中正包括了他的亲生父亲。
当时的忒拜被狮身人面兽斯芬克斯（Sphinx）所困，因为他会抓住每个路过的人，如果对方无法解答他出的谜题，便将对方撕裂吞食。
忒拜为了脱困，便宣布谁能解开谜题，从斯芬克斯口中拯救城邦的话，便可获得王位并娶国王的遗孀约卡斯塔为妻。
后来正是由俄狄浦斯解开了斯芬克斯的谜题，解救了忒拜。
他也继承了王位，并在不知情的情况下娶了自己的亲生母亲为妻，生了两女：分别是安提戈涅（Antigone）及伊斯墨涅（Ismene）；两个儿子：埃忒奥克洛斯（Eteoclus）及波吕涅克斯（Polyneices）。
俄狄浦斯情结
俄狄浦斯情结恋母情结（Oedipus complex），中文翻译为伊谛普斯情结、俄狄浦斯情结、伊底庇斯情结。
通俗地讲是指人的一种心理倾向，喜欢和母亲在一起的感觉。
恋母情结并非爱情，而大多产生于对母亲的一种欣赏敬仰。
是一种普遍的社会现象，男孩女孩都可能有恋母情结。
大部分人多多少少都会在某一年龄段有恋母情结，而在儿童时期几乎所有人都有恋母情结。
相传希腊神话中，王子俄狄浦斯违反意愿，无意中杀死生父，娶母为妻。
弗洛伊德以此来描述性器期出现的儿子依恋母亲、害怕父亲的情况。
他认为男孩对母亲会发生爱恋，而对父亲怀有杀机;为取得母亲的爱情而与父亲竞争，既潜意识地想取代父亲占有母亲，同时又很现实地承认父亲比自己更强大有力，从而压抑着对母亲的性冲动，并在心理上以父亲自居，把对父亲的恨转为模仿父亲的行为和态度，以此来博得母亲的爱。
这种恋母情结是儿童性欲发展的高潮，也是性心理和人格发展的关键时刻。
在通常情况下，男孩由于害怕父亲的惩罚——阉割，而产生阉割焦虑，并对此进行压抑，恋母情结便逐渐消失。
弗洛伊德的这种主张受到了新弗洛伊德学派的批评，认为恋母情结的理论没有科学根据。
弗洛伊德也承认许多人并没有表现出这种情结，许多儿子和父亲、女儿和母亲感情十分融洽，毫无敌意。
但弗洛伊德辩解道，前一种情况是由于恋母情结完全被压抑了，后一种情况是同性恋的表现。
影响“恋母情结”是一种儿童早期的心理固结，是儿童初步认识父母及肯定他们关系的基础上，形成自我意识和自我家庭地位意识的时期。
不管人们是否承认，它都普遍存在于我们的生活中。
因为“恋母情结”的父母不是我们生理意义上的父母，而是心理意象，父母的形象都是经过加工后保存在意识领域里的虚像，这个虚像总是集多种优点于一身，具有超现实的完美性、崇高性，是现实个体的理想化。
随着年龄的增长，孩子会主动对这些形象加以修改，使其符合不同时期的心理需求和现实需要。
因此，有些人否认自己曾有过“恋母情结”这也不足为奇，因为大多数人的“恋母情结”，只是一种隐性的对父母亲的依赖，由于学习或成长的需要，他们逐渐会远离父母，与家长的实际距离相差的越遥远，分离的时间越久远，他们对父母在心理上依恋就越弱。
弗洛伊德的俄狄浦斯情结解读
弗洛伊德的俄狄浦斯情结解读“俄狄浦斯情结”（又译为恋母情结）是弗洛伊德从其“力比多”理论和人格学说中衍生出来的一个概念。
弗洛伊德认为在人格发展的第三阶段即生殖器阶段，儿童身上发展出一种恋母情欲综合感，这种心理驱使儿童去爱异性双亲而讨厌同性双亲，于是男孩就把母亲当作性爱对象而把父亲当作情敌，这样男孩就产生了“俄狄浦斯情结”。
⑴俄狄浦斯是希腊神话中一位犯有杀父娶母罪过的人物，索福克斯以这一神话传说为素材，创作了著名的悲剧《俄狄浦斯王》。
《俄狄浦斯王》忒拜国瘟疫盛行，天神宣告，只有杀害前王拉伊俄斯的凶手伏法，才能消灾祛祸。
前王外出，与卫兵一起遇害，至今不知凶手是谁。
国王俄狄浦斯严厉诅咒凶手，并号令全国追查。
先知却说，凶手就是俄狄浦斯本人。
俄狄浦斯出生时有神谕，说他将来会杀父娶母，于是他被抛弃在荒山上，辗转成了科林斯国王之子。
成年后他得知神谕，为了躲避杀父娶母的预言，逃出科林斯国，在途中与人抢道，将主仆数人打死。
他来到忒拜国，制服了狮身人面怪，被拥立为王，并娶寡后为妻。
俄狄浦斯这些经历恰好符合当初神谕所说的杀父娶母。
经过一番追查，事实俱在，俄狄浦斯正是凶手。
王后羞愤自尽，俄狄浦斯刺瞎双眼，自我放逐。
俄狄浦斯是由于受制于双重“上帝”即命运女神和无意识而误入了杀父娶母的绝境，他在尚未出生之前，太阳神就曾预言，他将要杀父娶母，未出生就被预言要“杀父娶母”，这似乎是他命中注定要经历的。
但是他也曾尝试逃避。
在第三场中，俄狄浦斯曾说：“罗克西阿斯曾说我命中注定要娶自己的母亲，亲手杀死自己的父亲因此多年来我远离科林斯国”。
⑵这可以表明俄狄浦斯的理智的，理性的自我战胜了快乐至上的本我。
但是命运捉弄了他，他在无意识来到忒拜的路上，却与自己的生父拉伊俄斯王不期而遇，并发生口角致使他误杀了自己的生父，后来又被拥为新国王，并与国王的遗孀结婚，真正的走上了“杀父娶母”的道路。
但是所有的这一切俄狄浦斯都是不知情的，是在他的无意识中进行的。
[俄狄浦斯情结]俄狄浦斯情结概述
[俄狄浦斯情结]俄狄浦斯情结概述篇一: 俄狄浦斯情结概述俄狄浦斯情结又称恋母情结，是精神分析学的术语。
精神分析学的创始人弗洛伊德认为，儿童在性发展的对象选择时期，开始向外界寻求性对象。
对于幼儿，这个对象首先是双亲，男孩以母亲为选择对象而女孩则常以父亲的选择对象。
小孩做出如此的选择，一方面是由于自身的“性本能”，同时也是由于双亲的刺激加强了这种倾向，也即是由于母亲偏爱儿子和父亲偏爱女儿促成的。
在此情形之下，男孩早就对他的母亲发生了一种特殊的柔情，视母亲为自己的所有物，而把父亲看成是争得此所有物的敌人，并想取代父亲在父母关系中的地位。
同理，女孩也以为母亲干扰了自己对父亲的柔情，侵占了她应占的地位。
一般人不知道自己的身上有这种感觉。
他的意识很小心地避免认知这些感觉，当这些感觉出现时，它们都早已被伪装过了。
但是还是有一部分人因为种种原因没有安全度过俄狄浦斯期，一直固结在那里，长大后这种乱伦的情结还保持着。
而且成为自己内心矛盾冲突的主要部分，一方面自己潜意识里想，而意识里又是不允许的，这种恐惧使得那些社会不允许的感觉被封锁在潜意识底下，但是它们在那里不断想挣破它们的监牢。
这种介于想要和不想要之间的挣扎就会造成心理问题。
有时候，潜抑的俄狄浦期症结突破潜意识的封锁，溜到意识里来了。
不过它们是以仿造形式出现的，以艺术形式出现的时候最多，这样的形式显然比较不会被我们所反对。
存在的即是合理的，知道是怎么一回事，就会对自己更了解一点。
歌队唱道：“你的感觉和你的命运同样可怜，但愿我从来不知道你这个人。
”——索福克勒斯的《俄狄浦斯王》索福克勒斯的伟大悲剧《俄狄浦斯王》就描述了这一故事，剧中的背景歌队对俄狄浦斯唱道：“你的感觉和你的命运同样可怜，但愿我从来不知道你这个人。
”俄狄浦斯情结，是儿童对于养育双亲的爱与恨欲望的心理组织整体，它的外在表现形式呈现为三角人际关系结构，即个体自身，所爱的客体对象，执法者三者，伴随爱与恨，及恐惧等等冲突矛盾的情绪。
关于男孩的俄狄浦斯情结
关于男孩的俄狄浦斯情结以及母亲的位置最近有群友关心关于男孩的俄狄浦斯情结以及孩子退缩的问题，在这里整理一下。
孩子在成长阶段，在四五岁以前，无论男孩还是女孩，都是要跟着妈妈的，而长大一点后，四五岁开始，男孩子更喜欢亲近妈妈，女孩子更喜欢亲近爸爸，这是正常的发生模式。
男孩子会嫉妒父亲，女孩子会嫉妒母亲，这是正常的发生模式。
以男孩为例，讲一下男孩的俄狄浦斯情结以及母亲的位置。
俄狄浦斯情结来源于古希腊神话，原型是在古希腊神话中有这么一个预言：底比斯王的新生儿（也就是俄狄浦斯），有一天将会杀死他的父亲而与他的母亲结婚。
底比斯王对这个预言感到震惊万分，于是下令把婴儿丢弃在山上。
但是有个牧羊人发现了他，把他送给邻国的国王当儿子。
俄狄浦斯情结俄狄浦斯并不知道自己真正的父母是谁。
长大后他做了许多英雄事迹，赢得伊俄卡斯忒女王为妻。
后来国家瘟疫流行，他才知道，多年前他杀掉的一个旅行者是他的父亲，而现在和自己同床共枕的是自己的亲母亲。
俄狄浦斯王羞怒不已，他刺瞎了自己的双眼，离开底比斯，并自我放逐。
俄狄浦斯情结，基本从四五岁开始发展，当然，每个孩子有个体差异，在这个情结发展中，男孩子会产生以下的心里反应：第一：潜意思的攻击性，这是男孩子的一个幼稚无智慧的心理第二，希望父亲死掉。
这对孩子来说，是正常的。
同时思维产生分裂，一方面希望爸爸死掉，但同时又有愧疚感。
那么在男孩子的这个成长阶段，妈妈应该如果应对亲子关系呢？首先，妈妈要做一个好妈妈，同时妈妈要跟孩子保持一定距离。
在这方面，第一点是分床，也就是说，5岁开始，男孩子要分床。
有很多群友会说，男孩子分床的过程中，经常反映怕黑，怕怪物，要开着灯，不跟跟妈妈分床，但是又喜欢看一些跟怪物跟攻击性有关的书，动画，电视，游戏，导致很难分床成功，这个是为什么呢？怎么办呢？我家的孩子现在8岁了，同样有这些问题，怕黑，怕怪物，怕鬼，不敢自己睡，要跟妈妈睡。
为什么呢？上面讲到孩子的俄狄浦斯情结，思维会分裂成两部分，一部分希望爸爸死掉。
我的俄狄浦斯情节
Short StoryMy Oedipus ComplexFather was in the army all through the war---the first war, I mean---so, up to the age of five, I never saw much of him, and what I saw did not worry me. Sometimes I woke and there was a big figure in khaki peering down at me in the candlelight. Sometimes in the early morning I heard the slamming of the front door and the clatter of nailed boots down the cobbles of the lane. These were Father’s entrances and exits. Like Santa Claus he came and went mysteriously.In fact, I rather liked his visits, though it was an uncomfortable squeeze between mother and him when I got into the big bed in the early morning. He smoked, which gave him a pleasant musty smell, and shaved, an operation of astounding interest. Each time he left a trail of souvenirs---model tanks and Gurkha knives with handles made of bullet cases, and German helmets and cap badges and button sticks, and all sorts of military equipment---carefully stowed away in a long box on top of the wardrobe, in case they ever came in handy. There was a bit of the magpie about Father; he expected everything to come in handy. When his back was turned, Mother let me get a chair and rummage through his treasures. She didn’t seem to think so highly of them as he did.The war was the most peaceful period of my life. The window of my attic faced southeast. My mother had curtained it, but that had small effect. I always woke with the first light and, with all the responsibilities of the previous day melted, feeling myself rather like the sun, ready to illumine and rejoice. Life never seemed so simple and clear and full of possibilities as then. I put my feet out from under the clothes---I called them Mrs. Left and Mrs. Right and invented dramatic situations for them in which they discussed t he problems of the day. At least Mrs. Right did; she was very demonstrative, but I hadn’t the same control of Mrs. Left , so she mostly contended herself with nodding agreement.They discussed what Mother and I should do during the day, what Santa Claus sh ould give a fellow for Christmas, and what steps should be taken to brighten the home. There was that little matter of the baby, for instance. Mother and I could never agree about that. Ours was the only house in the terrace without a new baby, and Mother said we couldn’t afford one till Father came back from the war because they cost seventeen and six.That showed how simple she was. The Geneys up the road had a baby, and everyone knew they couldn’t afford seventeen and six. It was probably a cheap baby, a nd Mother wanted something really good, but I felt she was too exclusive. The Geneys’ baby would have done us fine.Having settled my plans for the day, I got up, put a chair under the attic window, and lifted the frame high enough to stick out my head. The window overlooked the front gardens of the terrace behind ours, and beyond these it looked over a deep valley to the tall, red brick houses terraced up the opposite hillside, which were still in shadow, while those at our side of the valley were all lit up, though with long strange shadows that made them seem unfamiliar; rigid and painted.After that I went into Mother’s room and climbed into the big bed. She woke and I began to tell her of my schemes. By this time, though I never seemed to have noticed it, I was petrified in my night-shirt, and I thawed as I talked until, the last frost melted, I fell asleep beside her and woke again only when I heard her below in the kitchen, making the breakfast.After breakfast we went into town; heard Mass at St. Augu stine’s and said a prayer for Father, and did the shopping. If the afternoon was fine we either went for a walk in the country or a visit to Mother’s great friend in the convent, Mother Saint Dominic. Mother had them all praying for Father, and every night, going to bed, I asked God to send him back safe from the war to us. Little, indeed, did I know what I was praying for!One morning, I got into the big bed, and there, sure enough, was Father in his usual Santa Claus manner, but later, instead of uniform, he put on his best blue suit, and Mother was as pleased as anything. I saw nothing to be pleased about, because, out of uniform, Father was altogether less interesting, but she only beamed, and explained that out prayers had been answered, and off we went to Mass to thank God for having brought Father safely home.The irony of it! That very day when he came in to dinner he took off his boots and put on his slippers, donned the dirty old cap he wore about the house to save him from colds, crossed his legs, and began to talk gravely to Mother, who looked anxious. Naturally, I disliked her looking anxious, because it destroyedher good looks, so I interrupted him.“Just a moment, Larry!” she said gently.This was only what she said when we had boring visitors, so I attached no importance to it and went on talking.“Do be quiet, Larry!” she said impatiently. “Don’t you hear me talking to Daddy?”This was the first time I had heard those ominous words, “talking to Daddy,” and I couldn’t help feeling that if this was how God answered prayers, he couldn’t listen to them very attentively.“Why are you talking to Daddy?” I asked with as great a show of indifference as I could muster.“Because Daddy and I have business to discuss. Now don’t interrupt again!”In the aft ernoon, at Mother’s request, Father took me for a walk. This time we went into town instead of out in the country, and I thought at first, in my usual optimistic way, that it might be an improvement. It was nothing of the sort. Father and I had quite different notions of a walk in town. He had no proper interest in trains, ships, and horses, and the only thing that seemed to divert him was talking to fellows as old as himself. When I wanted to stop he simply went on, dragging me behind him by the hand; when he wanted to stop I had no alternative but to do the same. I noticed that it seemed to be a sign that he wanted to stop for a long time whenever he leaned against a wall. The second time I saw him do it I got wild. He seemed to be settling himself forever. I pulled him by the coat and trousers, but, unlike Mother who, if you were too persistent, got into a wax and said:“Larry, if you don’t behave yourself, I’ll give you a good slap,” Father had an extraordinary capacity for amiable inattention. I sized him up and wondered would I cry, but he seemed to be too remote to be annoyed even by that. Rally, it was like going for a walk with a mountain! He either ignored the wrenching and pummeling entirely, or else glanced down with a grin of amusement from his peak. I had never met anyone so absorbed in himself as he seemed.At teatime, “talking to Daddy” began again, complicated this time by the fact that he had an evening paper, and every few minutes he put it down and told Mother something new out of it. I felt this was foul play. Man for man, I was prepared to compete with him any time for Mother’s attention, but when he had it all made up for him by other people it left me no chance. Several times I tried to change the subject without success.“You must be quiet while Daddy is reading, Larry,” Mother said impatiently.It was clear that she either genuinely liked talking to Father better than talking to me, or else that he had some terrible hold on her which made her afraid to admit the truth.“Mummy,” I said that night when she was tucking me up, “do you think if I prayed hard God would send Daddy back to the war?”She seemed to think about that for a moment.“No, dear,” she said with a smile. “I don’t think He would.”“Why wouldn’t He, Mummy?”“Because there isn’t a war any longer, dear.”“But, Mummy, couldn’t God make another war, if He liked?”“He wouldn’t like to, dear. It’s not God who makes wars, but bad people.”“Oh!” I said.I was disappointed about that, I began to think that God wasn’t quite what He was cracked up to be.Next morning I woke at my usual hour, feeling like a bottle of champagne. I put out my feet and invented a long conversation in which Mrs. Right talked of the trouble she had with her own father till she put him in the Home. I didn’t quit e know what the Home was but it sounded the right place for Father. Then I got my chair and stuck my head out of the attic window. Dawn was just breaking, with a guilty air that made me feel I had caught it in the act. My head bursting with stories and schemes, I stumbled in next door, and in the half-darkness scrambled into the big bed. There was no room at Mother’s side so I had to get between her and Father. For the time being I had forgotten about him, and for several minutes I sat bolt upright, racking my brains to know what I could do with him. He was taking up more than his fair share of the bed, and I couldn’t get comfortable, so I gave him several kicks that made him grunt and stretch. He made room all right, though. Mother waked and felt for me. I settled back comfortably in the warmth of the bed with my thumb in my mouth.“Mummy!” I hummed, loudly and contentedly.“Sssh! Dear,” she whispered. “Don’t wake Daddy.”This was a new development, which threatened to be even more serious than “talking to Daddy”. Life without my early-morning conferences was unthinkable.“Why?” I asked severely.“Because poor Daddy is tired.”This seemed tome a quite inadequate reason, and I was sickened by the sentimentality of her“poor Daddy.” I never liked that sort of gu sh; it always struck me as insincere.“Oh!” I said lightly. Then in my most winning tone:“Do you know where I want to go with you today, Mummy?”“No, dear,” she sighed.“I want to go down the Glen and fish for thornybacks with my new net, and then I want t o go out to the Fox and Hounds, and---“ “Don’t-wake-Daddy!” she hissed angrily, clapping her hand across my mouth.But it was too late. He was awake, or nearly so. He grunted and ached for the matches. Then he stared incredulously at his watch.“Like a cup of tea, dear?” asked Mother in a meek, hushed voice I had never heard her use before. It sounded almost as though she were afraid.“Tea?” he exclaimed indignantly. “Do you know what the time is?”“And after that I want to go up the Rathcooney Road,” I said loudly, afraid I’d forget something in all those interruptions.“Go to sleep at once, Larry!” she said sharply.I began to snivel. I couldn’t concentrate, the way that pair went on, and smothering my early-morning schemes was like burying a family from the cradle.Father said nothing, but lit his pipe and sucked it, looking out into the shadows without minding Mother or me. I knew he was mad. Every time I made a remark Mother hushed me irritably. I was mortified.I felt it wasn’t fair; there was even some thing sinister in it. Every time I had pointed out to her the waste of making two beds when we could both sleep in one, she had told me it was healthier like that, and now here was this man, this stranger, sleeping with he without the least regard for her health!He got up early and made tea, but though he brought Mother a cup he brought none for me.“Mummy, ” I shouted, “I want a cup of tea, too.”“Yes, dear,” she said patiently. “You can drink from Mummy’s saucer.”That settled it. Either Father or I wou ld have to leave the house. I didn’t want to drink from Mother’s saucer; I wanted to be treated as an equal in my own home, so, just to spite her, I drank it all and left none for her. She took that quietly, too.But that night when she was putting me to b ed she said gently:“Larry, I want you to promise me something.”“What is it?” I asked.“Not to come in and disturb poor Daddy in the morning. Promise?”“Poor Daddy” again! I was becoming suspicious of everything involving that quite impossible man.“Why?” I asked.“Because poor Daddy is worried and tired and he doesn’t sleep well.”“Why doesn’t he, Mummy?”“Well, you know, don’t you, that while he was at the war Mummy got the pennies from the post office?”“From Miss MacCarthy?”“That’s right. But now, you see, Miss MacCarthy hasn’t any more pennies, so Daddy must go out and find us some. You know what would happen if he couldn’t?”I said, “tell us.”“Well I think we might have to go out and beg for them like the poor old woman on Fridays. We wouldn’t like that, would we?”“No,” I agreed. “We wouldn’t.”“So you’ll promise not to come in and wake him?”“Promise.”Mind you, I mean that. I knew pennies were a serious matter, and I was all against having to go out and beg like the old woman on Fridays. Mother laid out all my toys in a complete ring round the bed so that, whatever way I got out, I was bound to fall over one of them.When I woke I remembered my promise all right. I got up and sat on the floor and played---for hours, it seemed to me. Then I got my chair and looked out the attic window for more hours. I wished it was time for Father to wake; I wished someone would make me a cup of tea. I didn’t feel in the least like the sun; instead, I was bored and so very, very cold! I simply longed for the warmth and depth of the big feather bed.At last I could stand it no longer. I went into the next room. As there was still no room at Mother’s side I climbed over her and she woke with a start.“Larry,” she whispered, gripping my arm very tightly, “what did you promise?”“But I did, Mummy,” I wailed, caught in the very act. “I was quiet for ever so long.”“Oh, dear, and you’re perished!” she said sadly, feeling me all over.“Now if I let you stay will you promise not to talk?”“But I want to talk, Mummy,” I wa iled.“That has nothing to do with it.” she said with a firmness that was new to me. “Daddy wants to sleep. Now, do you understand that?”I understood it only too well. I wanted to talk, he wanted to sleep---whose house was it, anyway?“Mummy,” I said with equal firmness, “I think it would be healthier for Daddy to sleep in his own bed.”That seemed to stagger her, because she said nothing for a while.“Now once for all, ”she went on, “you’re to be perfectly quiet or go back to your own bed, Which is it to be?”The injustice of it got me down. I had convicted her out of her own mouth of inconsistency and unreasonableness, and she hadn’t even attempted to reply. Full of spite, I gave Father a kick, which she didn’t notice but which made him grunt and open his eyes in alarm.“What time is it?” he asked in a panic-stricken voice, not looking at Mother but at the door, as if he saw someone there.“It’s early yet,” she replied soothingly. “It’s only the child. Go to sleep again…Now, Larry,” she added, getting out of bed, “you’ve waken Daddy and you must go back.”This time, for all her quiet air, I knew she meant it, and knew that my principal rights and privileges were as good as lost unless I asserted them at once. As she lifted me, I gave a screech, enough to wa ke the dead, not to mind Father. He groaned.“What damn child! Doesn’t he ever sleep?”“It’s only a habit, dear,” she said quietly, though I could see she was vexed.“Well, it’s time he got out of it,” shouted Father, beginning to heave in the bed. He sudd enly gathered all the bedclothes about him, turned to the wall, and then looked back over his shoulder with nothing showing only two small, spiteful, dark eyes. The man looked very wicked.To open the bedroom door, Mother had to let me down, and I broke fr ee and dashed for the farthest corner, screeching. Father sat bolt upright in bed.“Shut up, you little puppy!” he said in a choking voice.I was so astonished that I stopped screeching. Never, never had anyone spoken to me in that tone before. I looked at him incredulously and saw his face convulsed with rage. It was only then that I fully realized how God had codded me, listening to my prayers for the safe return of this monster.“Shut up, you!” I bawled, beside myself.“What’s that you said?” shouted Fat her, making a wild leap out of the bed.“Mick, Mick!” cried Mother. “Don’t you see the child isn’t used to you?”“I see he’s better fed than taught,” snarled Father, waving his arms wildly. “He wants his bottom smacked.”All his previous shouting was as nothing to these obscene words referring to my person. They really made my blood boil.“Smack your own!” I screamed hysterically. “Smack your own! Shut up! Shut up!”At this he lost his patience and let fly at me. He did it with the lack of conviction you’d expect of a man under Mother’s horrified eyes, and it ended up as a mere tap, but the sheer indignity of being struck at allby a stranger, a total stranger who had cajoled his way back from the war into our big bed as a result of my innocent intercession, made me completely dotty. I shrieked and shrieked, and danced in my bare feet, and Father, looking awkward and hairy in nothing but a short gray army shirt, glared down at me like a mountain out for murder. I think it must have been then that I realized he was jealous too. And there stood Mother in her nightdress, looking as if her heart was broken between us. I hoped she felt as she looked. It seemed to me that she deserved it all.From that morning on my life was a hell. Father and I were enemies, open a nd avowed. We conducted a series of skirmishes against one another, he trying to steal my time with Mother and I his. When she was sitting on my bed, telling me a story, he took to looking for some pair of old boots which he alleged he had left behind him the beginning of the war. While he talked to Mother I played loudly with my toys to show my total lack of concern. He created a terrible scene one evening when he came in from work and found me at his box, playing with his regimental badges, Gurkha knives and button sticks. Mother got up and took the box from me.“You mustn’t play with Daddy’s toys unless he lets you, Larry,” she said severely. “Daddy doesn’t play with yours.”For some reason Father looked at her as if she had struck him and then turned awa y with a scowl.“Those are not toys,” he growled, taking down the box again to see had I lifted anything. “Some of those curios are very rare and valuable.”But as time went on I saw more and more how he managed to alienate Mother and me. What made it wors e was that I couldn’t grasp his method or see what attraction he had for Mother. In every possible way he was less winning than I. He had a common accent and made noises at his tea. I thought for a while that it might be the newspapers she was interested in, so I made up bits of news of my own to read to her. Then I thought it might be the smoking, which I personally thought attractive, and took his pipes and went round the house dribbling into them till he caught me. I even made noises at my tea, but Mothe r only told me I was disgusting. It all seemed to hinge round that unhealthy habit of sleeping together, so I made a point of dropping into their bedroom and nosing round, talking to myself, so that they wouldn’t know I was watching them, but they were never up to anything that I could see. In the end it beat me. It seemed to depend on being grown-up and giving people rings, and I realized I’d have to wait.But at the same time I wanted him to see that I was only waiting, not giving up the fight. One evenin g when he was being particularly obnoxious, chattering away well above my head, I let him have it. “Mummy,”I said, “do you know what I’m going to do when I grow up?”“No, dear,” she replied. “What?”“I’m going to marry you,” I said quietly.Father gave a great guffaw out of him, but he didn’t take me in. I knew it must only be pretense. And Mother, in spite of everything, was pleased. I felt she was probably relieved to know that one day Father’s hold on her would be broken. “Won’t that be nice?” she said with a smile.“It’ll be very nice,” I said confidently. “Because we’re going to have lots and lots of babies.”“That’s right, dear,” she said placidly. “I think we’ll have one soon, and then you’ll have plenty of company.”I was no end pleased about that because it showed that in spite of the way she gave in to Father she still considered my wishes. Besides, it would put the Geneys in their place.It didn’t turn out like that, though. To begin with, she was very preoccupied---I supposed about where she would get the seventeen and six---and thought Father took to staying out late in the evenings it did me no particular good. She stopped taking me for walks, became as touchy as blazes, and smacked me for nothing at all. Sometimes I wished I’d never mentioned the confounded baby---I seemed to have a genius for bringing calamity on myself.And calamity it was! Sonny arrived in the most appalling hullabaloo---even that much he couldn’t do without a fuss---and from the first moment I disliked him. He was a difficult child---so far as I was concerned he was always difficult---and demanded far too much attention.Mother was simply silly about him, and couldn’t see when he was only showing off. As company he was worse than useless. He slept all day, and I had to go round the house on tiptoe to avoid waking him. It wasn’t any longer a question of not waking Father. The slogan now was “Don’t—wake—Sonny!” I couldn’tunderstand why the child wouldn’t sleep at the proper time, so whenever Mother’s back was turned I woke him. Sometimes to keep him awake I pinched him as well. Mother caught me at it one day and gave me a most unmerciful flaking.One evening, when Father was coming in from work, I was playing trains in the front garden.I let on not to notice him; instead, I pr etended to be talking to myself, and said in a loud voice:“If another bloody baby comes into this house, I’m going out.”Father stopped dead and looked at me over his shoulder.“What’s that you said?” he asked sternly.“It was only talking to myself,” I replied, trying to conceal my panic. “It’s private>”He turned and went in without a word. Mind you, I intended it as a solemn warning, but its effect was quite different. Father started being quite nice to me. I could understand that, of course. Mother was quite sickening about Sonny. Even at mealtimes she’d get up and gawk at him in the cradle with an idiotic smile, and tell Father to do the same. He was always polite about it, but he looked so puzzled you could see he didn’t know what she was talking about. He complained of the way Sonny cried at night, but she only got cross and said that Sonny never cried except when there was something up with him---which was a flaming lie, because Sonny never had anything up with him, and only cried for attention. It wa s really painful to see how simpleminded she was. Father wasn’t attractive, but he had a fine intelligence. He saw through Sonny, and now he knew that I saw through him as well.One night I woke with a start. There was someone beside me in the bed. For one wild moment I felt sure it must be Mother, having come to her senses and left Father for good, but then I heard Sonny in convulsions in the next room, and Mother saying: “There! There! There!” and I knew it wasn’t she. It was Father. He was lying beside me, wide-awake, breathing hard and apparently as mad as hell.After a while it came to me what he was mad about. It was his turn now. After turning me out of the big bed, he had been turned out himself. Mother had no consideration now for anyone but that po isonous pup, Sonny. I couldn’t help feeling sorry for Father. I had been through it all myself, and even at that age I was magnanimous. I began to stroke him down and say: “There! There!” He wasn’t exactly responsive.“Aren’t you asleep either?” he snarled.“Ah, come on and put your arm around us, can’t you?” I said, and he did, in a sort of way. Gingerly, I suppose, is how you’d describe it. He was very bony but better than nothing.At Christmas he went out of his way to buy me a really nice model railway.。