In the letter for the seventieth birthday of Romain Rolland, Freud can now speak about himself, confessing that "the memory of this experience on the Acropolis comes back to me very often and haunts me since I have grown old." The guilt of surpassing his father, the guilt of transcending the paternal position, which refers to the unconscious desire and need for patricide to progress in life, confronted him with the brutality of death, which was indeed impending due to age and was lived fantasized in his relationship with the younger generations.

The murder of the father acts as the thread that structures Freud's subjective myth and personal history and connects them to the invention of psychoanalysis, its worldview, and the interpretation of social bonds and cultural evolution. The Acropolis, as a cultural monument, shattered yet majestic, reminds one of a lost past that stands firm despite all the deaths. Perhaps Freud, in his writing, is simply asking us for leniency and respect for himself and his work, a work that continues to provoke tremors, resistances, and upheavals.

In 1904, Seferis, a small boy, lived in a world that seemed eternal, while Freud ascended the Rock, relatively carefree, with vague memories of a once unforgettable childhood in parts of Central Europe that also seemed eternal. However, in 1936, Seferis wrote in his way, "Wherever I go, Greece wounds me," while Freud, bitter and helpless, with little desire for birthday tributes, living through the rise of Nazism, recalled his memories of the ascent to the Acropolis, simultaneously raising the question of Aufhebung, how a son surpasses his father.

In 1970, the poet, under a dictatorship, gifted us a dream of his on the Acropolis, a dream of alienation, that hid a nightmare within his innards. What does the Acropolis mean, as it rises before the eyes of visitors in our modern world? Seferis's nightmare is quite clear and aligns with its alteration and destruction. Freud's awe, on the other hand, is integrated into the respect for its function and the interpretation of its position as a monumental treasure of humanity.

It indeed has the status of a statue; on one hand, it metaphorically represents a turning point in History, and on the other, it stands above crisis, thought, myths, and contemporary actors. Seferis recalls a phrase by Freud, relevant even today: "I am submerged in this incurable wretchedness and cannot shake it off. We make space travel, combat diseases, yet the greatest enemy of man—man—we cannot neutralize."

COVER PHOTO Acropolis, Athens 1900. Reproduction from a stereoscopic photograph by the Keystone View Company. Benaki Museum / Photographic Archives [PH.9.495]