Clock.

"Clock."
"Yes." She pointed. It hung on the wall behind him, near the corner to his left, an absurdly fussy and over-ornamented Swiss cuckoo clock, with an alpine gable and a small host of obscure shapes, peasants, cows, alphenhorns, edelweiss, heaven knows what else, carved on every available brown wooden surface. "It was left us by a previous patient. An Irish gentleman. We thought it added a human touch."
"It's awful."
"It won't disturb you. We've disconnected the striking mechanism. It doesn't cuckoo anymore."
He remained staring at the hideous clock: its lunatically cluttered front, its dropped intenstines of weights and chains. It did disturb him, standing for something he feared, he couldn't say why; an anomaly, an incongruous reminder of all he could not remember. (10)

The image of the cuckoo clock hanging on an otherwise empty wall in the author's brain is something that has stuck with me. It seems to have various meanings, a few of which are quite relevant to the material we've been trying to digest. Let's give this a shot, shall we?

We first have a physical description of the object. It is a cluttered, overstimulating and ridiculously gaudy mess of a thing. The patient is informed that the striking mechanism was removed, assuring him that he will not be bothered by it. But even without sound, it makes its presence known, especially in contrast to the relatively simple room (which is, as aforementioned, representative of the brain or mind).

As is the case with just about anything in this world, there are few ways to look at this. First off, the cuckoo clock that doesn't cuckoo is deconstructed. A cuckoo clock serves one function that an ordinary clock does not, and that is to cuckoo. A clock that doesn't cuckoo is just a clock. This is along the same lines as the bus-train example we had used earlier in the semester. It is something of a "loophole" in the way we use language. Look at this from a perspective that is more akin to psychoanalytic theory and the clock that makes its presence known, regardless of how well it functions, is saying something about the man made construct of time. Miles describes the clock as something he fears, because it is an "incongruous reminder of all he could not remember." Subconsciously, as can be said about all societal norms, it is always present, lingering, nagging. And then theres the obvious "cuckoo" as "insanity".

It is explained that the reason the clock is there in the first place is to add a "human touch". What can one make of this statement? We have a description of the clock as hideous and cluttered, is this "human"? Maybe it is a reference the confusion and conflict of the human mind? But wait, because it is a clock, it is representative of time, something humans created. But time is suggestive of order, isn't it? Or maybe time creates insanity, and humans fall victim to the things they create.

This could just be overanalyzing, especially since it is revealed later in the book that the Irish patient they mention is based on a real person, Flann O'Brien. I know we discussed this briefly in class, but I cannot remember if his context in this book was explained. From what I know he is a satirist and novelist who, like Fowles, is also noted for exploring metafiction. So maybe the "humanity" the clock offered was the presence of another author who had attempted to achieve something similar through his art. Maybe it was a reminder that the author is not dead after all, but who knows?