Freud's Granddaughter's Bicycle

Oh look! said Pliny the Elder. Here's the latest edition of Velosophy! I wonder what it will be about today?

So do I, I said. Why don't you read it out to me?

Alright, said Pliny. I will. And he began to read:

Comrade Velosophers! The VeloDrone and I are pleased to bring you the second in a series of articles by the esteemed Professor Freud! He has once again produced something that we are sure will surprise and delight you. You may think it has little to do with philosophy. We beg you not to judge too hastily. We are of the opinion that philosophy encompasses nearly everything, especially if there is a bicycle in it. Please enjoy:

Hmmph! said Pliny. This sounds as if it might not be any good!

Go ahead and read it, I urged. We ought to trust the editors.

So Pliny read on:

Dear readers, I have a little tale to tell, about my granddaughter Sophie and her bicycle. I learned this story on reading her recently published book, 'Living in the shadow of the Freud family'. I had no idea about it at the time, which was in 1938, the year before my death, for I was not then living in Paris.

Sophie and her mother were living in Paris however. They had moved there from Austria which was no longer a safe place for Jews. Sophie was 14 years old , and attended the Lycee Jean de la Fontaine, in Passy, about 8 miles from their flat. She was supposed to catch a bus to school, but preferred to ride her bicycle, although her mother had forbidden it. She used her bus money to keep her bicycle safe in a garage while she was at school.

But soon, the Paris authorities introduced a bicycle tax. Every bicycle was to display a metal plaque costing 200 francs. Sophie had no way of getting 200 francs. She had no pocket money and didn't know the neighbours well at all. So she stole 200 francs from he mother's purse and bought the metal plaque and all was well until her mother confronted her about the missing money.

She asked Sophie if she had taken it. Sophie was afraid she was going to face a dreadful punishment, but she admitted that she had. To her surprise her mother did not even ask her why she had needed the money. She merely observed that next time she needed money she should ask for it. Sophie thought that perhaps her mother was remembering how hard it had been to get things from her husband, from whom she was separated.

Pliny stopped reading. He appeared to have a tear in his eye.

Oh, Pliny, I said. That was a lovely story. You liked it, didn't you?

I did, said he. There is much wisdom in it.