Bower of Neuroses

It's the last few weeks of the semester. (2 weeks then exams). Saying there's a lot going on is an understatement. There's all kinds of end of the year wrap ups. Last week we had Honors Night and Celebration of Scholarship. Next week there's a picnic on the last day of classes. This week is where we cram in all the things we meant to get to before. I'm still trying to finish grading. I need a little bit of extra motivation and inspiration this week. What's better than a little bit of Dorothy Parker?

Of course, the cleverness of Parker is always appreciated. But I particularly love how she plays with language here. And she mentions bowers of neuroses. What a fantastic expression! I also love the idea of parking one's inhibitions like you could pick them up again when you needed them.

The Passionate Freudian to His Love
by Dorothy Parker

Only name the day, and we'll fly away
In the face of old traditions,
To a sheltered spot, by the world forgot,
Where we'll park our inhibitions.
Come and gaze in eyes where the lovelight lies
As it psychoanalyzes,
And when once you glean what your fantasies mean
Life will hold no more surprises.
When you've told your love what you're thinking of
Things will be much more informal;
Through a sunlit land we'll go hand-in-hand,
Drifting gently back to normal.

While the pale moon gleams, we will dream sweet dreams,
And I'll win your admiration,
For it's only fair to admit I'm there
With a mean interpretation.
In the sunrise glow we will whisper low
Of the scenes our dreams have painted,
And when you're advised what they symbolized
We'll begin to feel acquainted.
So we'll gaily float in a slumber boat
Where subconscious waves dash wildly;
In the stars' soft light, we will say good-night—
And “good-night!” will put it mildly.

Our desires shall be from repressions free—
As it's only right to treat them.
To your ego's whims I will sing sweet hymns,
And ad libido repeat them.
With your hand in mine, idly we'll recline
Amid bowers of neuroses,
While the sun seeks rest in the great red west
We will sit and match psychoses.
So come dwell a while on that distant isle
In the brilliant tropic weather;
Where a Freud in need is a Freud indeed,
We'll always be Jung together.