Under the Yoke/Suicide 1896

This unsettling etching, by Edvard Munch, presents us with a constellation of symbols, each a fragment of a deeper psychological drama. At the center, a nude woman reclines, seemingly oblivious to the torment surrounding her. Above, a man contorts himself beneath a spiked yoke—a potent image of self-inflicted suffering. This motif of voluntary pain echoes throughout art history, from medieval flagellants to depictions of Christ's passion. Consider, too, the recurring image of a couple, superimposed yet detached, perhaps representing the fractured nature of relationships under the weight of societal expectations. Even the figure standing alone, cane in hand, evokes a sense of isolation and existential wandering, like a modern-day flâneur adrift in a sea of alienation. These are not merely illustrations, but rather embodiments of deep-seated anxieties and cultural traumas. The spiked yoke, for instance, transcends its literal form to become a symbol of the internalized constraints that bind us. It's a visual echo, resonating through centuries of art, reminding us of the burdens we carry, both visible and unseen.