The Demon Forever Trapped In Nathaniel’s Subconscious: The Sandman’s First Attempt To Strip A Child of His Eyes and His Agency In E.T.A Hoffmann’s “The Sandman” by Elena M. Fleggas

In E.T.A. Hoffmann’s tale “The Sandman,” Nathaniel relives an unforgettable and traumatizing childhood memory well into adulthood. In the memory, a lawyer named Coppelius is driven by the desire to strip Nathaniel of his ability to grasp concepts and ideas by stealing his eyes. When Nathaniel’s father pleads for Coppelius to let Nathaniel keep his sight, Coppelius then longs to steal the child’s hands and feet. In this essay, I will closely analyze this attack and converse with the ideas of scholars to argue that during their first encounter, Coppelius becomes an image to Nathaniel that, through a Freudian lens, is familiar, frightened, and uncanny. Furthermore, I will draw from the ideas of others to argue that Coppelius tries to remove Nathaniel’s organ of sight to deprive him of his most valuable form of agency: his childlike ability to learn from the situations and people around him. The disturbing power struggle I will analyze between Coppelius, Nathaniel, and his father where Coppelius first attempts to rob Nathaniel of his ability to learn is told from Nathaniel’s point of view and reads:

I seemed to see human faces appearing all around, but without eyes—instead of eyes there were hideous black cavities. “Eyes, bring eyes!” Coppelius cried in a dull hollow voice. Gripped by wild terror, I screamed aloud and fell out of my hiding-place on to the floor. Coppelius seized me. “Little beast! Little beast!” he bleated, showing his teeth...“Now we have eyes—eyes—a lovely pair of children’s eyes!”…But my father raised his hands imploringly and cried: “Master! Master! Let my Nathaniel keep his eyes—let him keep them!” Coppelius laughed shrilly and cried: “The boy can have his eyes then, and keep the use of them. But now let us observe the mechanism of the hands and feet.” (Hoffmann 91)

Nathaniel begins this passage by admitting, “I seemed to see human faces appearing all around” (Hoffmann 91). Here, Nathaniel refers to himself as “I,” or a person identical with oneself and as one conscious of itself as thinking, feeling, and willing or in touch with his ego. In an intriguing discussion of “The Sandman” that acknowledges Nathaniel is in touch with his ego, “The Ego, The Ocular, and The Uncanny: Why are Metaphors of Vision Central in Accounts of the Uncanny?,” Sadeq Rahimi validly notes that the founding father of psychoanalysis, Sigmund Freud, interprets the main force in the encounter of the uncanny as being “associated with the process of ego-formation” (454). In other words, Freud views one of the most important forces during one’s meeting face to face with the uncanny as the development of his or her ego.

Freud’s argument that the uncanny brings out and enhances one’s ego is easily tied into Hoffman’s story. For instance, as Nathaniel encounters the uncanny in his memory—the uncanny which I define in this scene as not only Coppelius, his father’s frequent visitor who he has long been afraid of, but also as the human faces which are obviously familiar, yet, in this overwhelming and unusual form, alien and frightening to him—he clearly possesses a strong sense of his ego, or self. His childhood memory of uncanny images—the wicked and powerful lawyer and the hollow human faces—bring him to be aware of and in touch with his ego, or his self-importance or self-esteem and to acknowledge himself as his own person. When once faced with the uncanny in the presence of Coppelius, however, young Nathaniel had no confidence at all. Nonetheless, he trusts his thoughts and feelings regarding his reflection of the terrifying attack that evoked dread (Freud 123) in him years prior.

Confident in his ego as he grasps the chronology of the attack, Nathaniel admits that he “seemed to see,” or appeared to have become conscious of by perceiving with his eyes, “human faces appearing all around, but without eyes.” Nathaniel remembers and envisions faces of human character and quality; however, the human faces Nathaniel is confident he saw and that he sees in his imagination are not wholly of human character. In his consciousness, the faces lack a key human feature, the organ of sight. In contrast, Nathaniel still possesses his vision that permits him to grasp ideas and concepts in a way that these faces cannot and in a way that Coppelius hopes to take from him. Without his eyes during this attack, Nathaniel would not even be able to process and learn from it, and as Nathaniel tries to process and learn from it as an adult, he is also attempting to gain agency over it.

Coppelius is undoubtedly aware that children gain agency in situations they can visually process and learn from, and I argue this awareness is what drives his undying motive to tear out young Nathaniel’s eyes, a motive that Freud validly defines as “the true source of the uncanny” (Rahimi 461) in the story. Coppelius and his desire to steal Nathaniel’s eyes is an uncanny concept to Nathaniel because it has long been familiar to him, “involved in the evocation of an old childhood fear” (Haughton 8); Nathaniel first grows scared of the Sandman Coppelius resembles as a child. Nathaniel’s nursemaid described the Sandman to him in detail, telling him the Sandman throws sand in children’s eyes when they refuse to go to bed “so that their eyes jump out of their heads, all bleeding” (Freud 136).

The nursemaid also claimed the Sandman proceeds to put children’s eyes in a bag to feed to his children, providing Nathaniel with the knowledge that makes Coppelius that much more strange and frightening to him upon their first encounter, especially considering that he is surrounded by faces that mirror and allow him to tangibly grasp what he knows Coppelius hopes to do to him.

In The Psychopathology of the Gothic Romance: Perversion, Neuroses and Psychosis in Early Works of the Genre, Ed Cameron also reflects on young Nathaniel’s fear of the faces that surround him, but instead of acknowledging that Nathaniel tangibly grasps their meaning, he argues he merely experiences “a common enough youthful confusion between the literal and the figurative, between imagination and reality” (45). I take issue with this argument because “youthful confusion” is nothing more than a social construction. Nathaniel’s status as a child does not lead him to become confused or troubled by the faces that surround him; he seems aware both during this scene and in his thought process as he relives it that these faces are figurative representations of Coppelieus’ literal longing to rob him of his power. Although he is reasonably mortified in the presence of what his psyche perceives as uncanny, he is not written as a character who is the slightest bit confused or troubled. It is because Nathaniel knows exactly what the Sandman hopes to do to him that he responds to this scene with fear and dread in the presence of his uncanny. His organs of sight grant him the power to accurately process these events as he learns from them and therefore, feel fear and dread from them as opposed to “confusion” (Cameron 45).

Another reason I suggest the child in this scene is not confused, but instead, due to his knowledge of the Sandman, frightening, is, as Elizabeth Wright points out in Psychoanalytic Reappraisal, “Freud produces an explanation for the uncanny in experience, as a resurgence of an infantile complex” (133, emphasis Wright’s). I argue that Nathaniel’s perception of Coppelius as the Sandman reflects his infantile, familiar belief that the lawyer is a repulsive person, which further reflects how Nathaniel is not confused during Coppelius’ first attack. After all, throughout his entire life, Nathaniel feels strange about the lawyer and finds him revolting. Nathaniel’s fear of the lawyer as his uncanny also appears to have been “intended to remain secret, hidden away,” but from viewing the Coppelius, his fears have “come into the open” (Freud 132). Unable to repress his fear of Coppelius and the Sandman any longer when he is faced with his presence, Nathaniel is forced to face the fears that his psyche stored away in his unconscious since his conscious mind found them too terrifying to handle. Nathaniel is reminded of Coppelius’ craving that has long haunted his imagination in sight of these human faces that are, in some ways, not quite human.

Instead of eyes that grant them Nathaniel’s sense of power, the faces display “hideous black cavities” or frightful, dreadful, and horribly unpleasing and ugly holes in their faces. The Oxford English Dictionary defines the color “black” as “small hole[s] in…hollow object[s],” which is a definition that may easily be run parallel to that of “cavities,” or void, empty spaces within a solid body. Within their solid bodies, these haunting faces are void of the empowering organ Coppelius hopes for Nathaniel to soon lack, which is extremely important to point out since when Nathaniel encounters them as a child, he only knows they reflect Coppelius’ evil desire to deprive him of his eyes. In her book The Freudian Reading: Analytical and Fictional Constructions, Lis Møller also analyzes Nathaniel’s first power struggle with the Sandman, mainly highlighting that “The faces with empty sockets that the child Nathaniel believes to see in his father’s study prefigure the eyeless Olympia” (115) who appears later in the story. I would like to explore her idea a little further and build off of it to argue that Møller fails to consider that these faces with empty sockets hold immense significant meaning during the actual childhood attack itself—they mirror Nathaniel’s uncanny both during it and in his memory.

I in no way deny that these faces prefigure the automan Olympia who Nathaniel views and falls in love with, and it is key to note that the emotions Nathaniel experiences from viewing the hollow faces in the first attack indeed foreshadow the fear he feels later in the story as he interacts with Olympia. For instance, when Nathaniel thinks he has fallen in love with a woman, he actually learns he has been deceived; he has not fallen in love with a real person – Olympia is an automaton in which his uncanny, Coppelius, “has set the eyes” (Freud 137). This jarring reality makes Nathaniel’s false love experience in itself uncanny; it is familiar to Nathaniel since it leads him to yet another encounter with Coppelius—but it is horrifying since he is faced with his uncanny when he thinks he is faced with love.

This experience undoubtedly evokes dread in him, but as a child, Nathaniel has no way of knowing that these faces prefigure the eyeless Olympia he lusts after in adulthood. Therefore, I suggest what matters most about Nathaniel’s encounter and what Møller fails to highlight about it is Nathaniel’s awareness that these faces remind him of the Sandman’s hope to rob him of his agency that in turn robs him of the eye, which Møller gives an accurate definition of a bit earlier in her text: “the medium through which one reads—or misreads—the outside world…the medium through which one recognizes—or believes to recognize—the soul or inner world of” others (115). Since the eye allows one to process the world, the thought of losing the eye, as “we know from psychoanalytic experience…especially in children…persists throughout maturity” (Cameron 46). Møller and I agree that organs of sight are perhaps one of the most powerful considering that they allow individuals to interpret and form ideas about the world surrounding them. Nonetheless, her analysis of Nathaniel’s childhood encounter would be stronger if she had coupled it with her knowledge of the intellectual ability and power of the eye and explored Nathaniel’s childhood understanding of eyes and his fear of losing them as a child and “throughout maturity” (Cameron 46) in her analysis.

Nathaniel’s knowledge of the eye provides him with the power to realize the faces he is surrounded by are horrifying and deformed. As Nathaniel reflects on the horror he felt in their deformed presence, his memory is interrupted by Coppelius’ demand, “Eyes, bring eyes!” Coppelius proceeds to ask Nathaniel to yield his eyes to him in a “dull” tone, or a tone that lacks in intelligence or mental perception or that is not witty and that reveals he wants to attain wit. The form of wit Coppelius seeks to maintain is likely one he sees in young Nathaniel. Aside from lacking wittiness, Nathaniel recalls Coppelius’ tone as one that does not resonate with him. While Coppelius’ tone of voice does not resonate with Nathaniel as powerful or intelligent in his mind, his violent demeanor does—it was not Coppelius’ tone that horrified Nathaniel, but the way he presented himself.

The Sandman’s intimidating demeanor is evident because s a child when he was faced with Coppelius’ orders, he was “Gripped by wild terror.” In other words, as a child face to face with Coppelius and his dialogue, Nathaniel was mentally and intellectually held by unrestricted fear and dread. His fear and dread again, stems from “nothing new or alien, but something which is familiar and old established in [his] mind that has only become strange through the process of repression” (Cameron 47): the figure of the Sandman. As terror took hold of Nathaniel’s mind and body as he met face to face with Coppelius who he knows mirrors the Sandman and makes him therefore, unable to repress his malicious desires and figure, he admits, “I screamed aloud and fell out of my hiding-place on the floor.” Nathaniel’s use of the personal pronoun “I” reveals that as he relives this point of his memory, he is still in touch with his ego and his sense of self-worth. While Nathaniel seems confident in himself, he remembers that during his childhood encounter he nearly surrendered himself to Coppelius. For instance, Nathaniel then “screamed,” or uttered a shrill and piercing cry indicative of alarm, pain, or other sudden emotion. Nathaniel’s shriek is indicative of how Coppelius’ threat alone has intimidated him. After shrieking, Nathaniel falls at a distance from his place in which he conceals himself.

No longer concealed or hidden from the monstrous Coppelius, Nathaniel remembers himself on a leveled space where he is no longer safe. Nathaniel then notes, “Coppelius seized me.” “Coppelius” is likely a name that stems from the theory of Linguistics called Copula. Copula refers to linking verbs that connect the subject and predicate of a proposition. In other words, Copula, or “Coppelius,” serves as a word that links who the sentences of this passage are about, Nathaniel, to the verb or action of the part of this speech in which the subject to be treated is set fourth, or to the verb or actions of Coppelius that Nathaniel is exposed to.

Since this is a theory that refers to the linking of a “a subject with the complement of a sentence” (Audioenglish.org), Coppelius is, in some ways, inevitably linked to the fears and thoughts of the subject of this passage, Nathaniel himself. While I have explored the ways Nathaniel is afraid of his uncanny, it is also possible that the dark side of Coppelius reflects the wicked side of Nathaniel that Nathaniel’s partner, Clara, states everyone has. As Rahimi validly notes, “anyone who has read ‘The Sandman’ would readily agree that it is a text specifically replete with references to eyes and other ocular metaphors” (468-469). Furthermore, while the presence and threat of the Sandman’s longing to rob Nathaniel and other children of their eyes is blatant in the text, Rahimi points out a point I failed to consider in my first reading of the story—the names of the story’s main characters “make direct references to eyes and vision” (468), including Clara. The name Clara actually means clear and bright, meaning that she herself serves as a symbol of the eye, or a metaphor “of the specular experiences associated with a moment of unspeakable terror” (Rahimi 468). If Clara is read as the eye herself, she also serves as a credible depiction of knowledge and therefore, of what may happen to Nathaniel in the presence of his uncanny and of their power dynamics.

Clara uses her reliable knowledge to analyze Nathaniel’s interactions with the Sandman, referring to his dark side as “a mirror image of ” (Hoffmann 97) himself with “influence over [his] heart” and “the power to cast us into Hell or transport us to Heaven, but that is because” Coppelius is a phantom of his own ego (Hoffmann 97). Furthermore, Clara refers to these phantoms as having “no power over you; only a belief that they have such a power can bestow it upon them” (Hoffmann 97). The symbol of one who can see clearly in the story appears aware that Nathaniel seems to have power over his memory of his first encounter with Coppelius who is possibly the phantom of his dark side, he seems powerless in his actions when this event occurred. The possible phantom of Nathaniel’s ego was once in power and as Nathaniel relives this childhood memory as an adult, Nathaniel seems to be doing his best to take Clara’s advice, to attain power over a moment where he once had none.

Continuing his attempt to gain power over his childhood memory, Nathaniel relives how Coppelius referred to him as “Little beast! Little beast!” This description is notably peculiar; Coppelius refers to the child as small in size, yet juxtaposes this description with a term that indicates he perceives Nathaniel as small but also as possessing “the animal nature (in humans)”. In other words, although Nathaniel is little in size, Coppelius perceives him as “a living organism other than a human being” (OED), which may insinuate that Coppelius views Nathaniel as being able to attain an inherit trait that Coppelius cannot yet or does not, but that he longs to. Coppelius “bleated,” or uttered words resembling “the cry of a sheep, goat, or calf or a sound resembling such a cry” (Dictionary.com). While Coppelius’ tone of voice reflects his desire to attain traits that are animal-like and not human, most significant are the descriptions Coppelius recites, “Little beast! Little beast!,” which indicates his longing to attain the powerful animalistic qualities he sees in Nathaniel that likely go hand in hand with the child’s organ of sight that Coppelius wishes to steal. Similar to a defensive animal snarling, ready to attack its prey or its threat, Coppelius then “showed his teeth,” or displayed his “weapons of attack or defense” (OED). Coppelius’ instinct to defend himself in the presence of such a defenseless child reveals the child likely attains power and an intimidating sense of agency from the one thing Coppelius initially wishes to steal, his eyes.

Still in tact with his eyes, however, Nathaniel then recalls Coppelius’ claim, “Now we have eyes.” Here, Coppelius refers to his possession of Nathaniel’s eyes not by saying “I” have eyes, but by saying “we,” or he and one or more other people have Nathaniel’s eyes. Since Nathaniel’s father is the only other character aside from him in this scene, Coppelius appears to link his longing to strip Nathaniel of his agency to Nathaniel’s father, which may indicate that this scene reflects Coppelius is nothing more than a symbol of his father’s alter ego, or “A person regarded and treated as another version of oneself; an intimate and trusted friend” (OED). While an argument may be made that Coppelius is Nathaniel’s father’s alter ego or the phantom of Nathaniel’s dark side, since Nathaniel and his father are linked together or related by blood, I read Coppelius as both. After all, Coppelius ends up killing Nathaniel’s father in the story, which may reveal that his father’s alter ego ultimately leads to his destruction.

In a similar attempt to figure out the roles that Nathaniel’s father and Coppelius play in the story, Rahimi notes that Freud associates all of the Sandman’s guises with a fatherly figure. For instance, aside from “the actual father, we encounter ‘The Sandman’ whose job is to make children abide by the rules and go to bed as they should; another whose association with the Law is explicit in his job as a lawyer and accountant” (468). Whether Coppelius is meant to reflect Nathaniel’s own dark side, his father’s dark side, or neither, all three of these figures find common ground in that they ultimately serve the same purpose in the story: to control and suppress children. Rahimi also validly interprets these three characters’ roles from a Lacanian approach, arguing that Lacan “would find a number of ideal metaphors in these alternating symbols which seem to magically represent the two central concepts of his developmental account, namely the Symbolic register (represented by law and order, the Sandman who enforces order in the name of the father, the lawyer/accountant who establishes law and order for the father) and the Imaginary register (represented by all the multitudes of references to the visual, the Sandman who attempts to blind Nathaniel)” (Rahimi 468). There are indeed many ideal metaphors that these three characters could be read as—the Symbolic reading accurately reflects the way that the figure of the Sandman attempts to gain control over not only Nathaniel but over his father as well, and the Imaginary register is evident when considering all the references Hoffman makes to the power of the eye and the Sandman’s attempt to rob Nathaniel of his vision and therefore, his agency and ability to learn.

Whether Coppelius is Nathaniel’s father’s alter ego, a symbol of Nathaniel’s evil impulses or both, he goes on to state that he and one or more individuals possess Nathaniel’s eyes as property. He goes on to refer to Nathaniel’s eyes as “—eyes—a lovely pair of children’s eyes!” Here, Coppelius calls Nathaniel’s eyes an organ worthy of admiration or love. Aside from noting that Nathaniel’s two individual eyes are worthy of affection, Coppelius mentions that he is drawn to a lovely set of children’s eyes. Children are young people below the age of puberty. Coppelius may be drawn to Nathaniel’s eyes before he reaches sexual maturity and becomes capable of reproduction because they allow him to see the world with a sense of innocence or, if not innocence, the ability to grasp ideas in a way that many adults no longer can, one that is not greatly tainted by the rules and regulations of society.

After remembering Coppelius’ focus on his eyes, Nathaniel remembers his father’s interjection, noting, “But my father raised his hands imploringly and cried: “Master! Master! Let my Nathaniel keep his eyes—let him keep them!” Here, one who practices protecting care like that of a father saves Nathaniel. His father takes on a paternal role when he follows his instinct to protect Nathaniel by holding up his hands piteously and begging Coppelius to let Nathaniel keep his eyes. Nathaniel’s father appears to shield his power to Coppelius when he weakly refers to him as “Master,” or an individual who holds authority or control. Aware that Nathaniel’s father has let him strip him of his power in the same way that Nathaniel did, Coppelius then laughs in a piercing and high-pitched manner and cries, “The boy can have his eyes then, and keep the use of them. But now let us observe the mechanism of the hands and feet.”

Coppelius refers to Nathaniel as “boy,” once again emphasizing his youth, the fact that he is a male child, and likely a young man without maturity and judgment. After acknowledging Nathaniel’s youth once again, Coppelius caves into Nathaniel’s father’s plea to let his son keep his eyes and the purpose of them. While it seems at first that Nathaniel is no longer endangered by Coppelius, he goes on to state that he wants everyone in this scene to now notice the assembly and function of “the hands and feet.” Here, Coppelius refers to Nathaniel as “the” as opposed to “his,” which distances his perception of his body parts from belonging to him. Coppelius also now longs to strip Nathaniel of a new sense of agency, one that comes from tangibly feeling things and from possibly defending himself and one that comes from being able to move around.

If Coppelius were able to steal Nathaniel’s hands and feet, the child would still not be nearly as defenseless and stagnant in the presence of Coppelius as he would be if his eyes had been removed. As Dorothy Burlingham notes in The Psychoanalytic Study of The Child, the loss of one’s eyes is detrimental to one’s personality since “[i]t is shown that the characteristic withdrawal and apparent lack of interest are often forms of listening in the blind child” (63). In other words, as a blind child, Nathaniel’s perception of the world may become withdrawn and aloof. With his organ of sight Nathaniel can grasp ideas, concepts, and events in a fascinated way that the faces who haunt him in this memory cannot. Without his hands and feet the child would be unprotected in a different way than he would be from the loss of his eyes in the presence of who is likely the phantom of his ego that haunts him for the rest of his life—he would be unable to move or physically fight back against him, but he would still be able to visually process the attack with intrigue.

After considering Coppelius’ first attack through a Freudian lens, it is evident that if Coppelius is read as an optical illusion of Nathaniel’s self-image, Nathaniel appears unable to grapple with the dark or evil side of himself until his death. In contrast, if Coppelius is seen as another version of his father, “The Sandman” becomes a story about a father’s inability to cope with his dark side that longs to strip his son of his agency. In an attempt to gain control over his first encounter with the demon who haunts him forever, Nathaniel relives his initial memory of his uncanny trying to strip him of his childlike ability to learn well into adulthood, likely in an attempt to gain control over a situation where he was once stripped of his courage and confidence. The Sandman dictates Nathaniel’s thought processes and longing to gain control over a situation from the past. Ultimately, Nathaniel is never able to escape the Sandman for good—as he attempts to gain control over his evil side, his father’s alter ego, or both, Coppelius becomes the demon forever trapped in Nathaniel’s subconscious.

Works Cited

Cameron, Ed. The Psychopathology of the Gothic Romance: Perversion, Neuroses and Psychosis in Early Works of the Genre. Jefferson, NC: McFarland &, 2010. Print.

"Copula (Copulae)." What Does Copula Mean? Definition and Meaning (Free English Language Dictionary). N.p., n.d. Web. 26 Apr. 2014.

Freud, Sigmund, David McLintock, and Hugh Haughton. The Uncanny. New York: Penguin, 2003. Print.

Freud, Sigmund. "The Uncanny." (2003): 123-62. Sigmund Freud: The Uncanny. University of Pennsylvania. Web. 11 Feb. 2014.

Hoffmann, E. T. A. Tales of Hoffmann. London: National Institute for the Blind, 1937. Print.

Møller, Lis. The Freudian Reading: Analytical and Fictional Constructions. Philadelphia: U of Pennsylvania, 1991. Print.

Rahimi, Sadeq. "The Ego, the Ocular, and the Uncanny: Why Are Metaphors of Vision Central in Accounts of the Uncanny?" The International Journal of Psychoanalysis 94.3 (2013): 453-76. Print.

Solnit, Albert J., Peter B. Neubauer, Samuel Abrams, and A. Scott. Dowling. The Psychoanalytic Study of the Child. New Haven: Yale UP, 1996. Print.

Wright, Elizabeth. Psychoanalytic Criticism: A Reappraisal. New York: Routledge, 1998. Print.