Guess How Much I Love You (Sam McBratney, 1994) tells the story of a little hare, desperate to show his father how much he loves him, and a father who either ignores his son's gestures of devotion (‘‘Guess how much I love you,’ he said. ‘Oh, I don't think I could guess that,’ said Big Nutbrown Hare’’) or outdoes them (‘‘I love you as high as I can reach,’ said Little Nutbrown Hare. ‘I love you as high as I can reach,’ said Big Nutbrown Hare.’).

Ostensibly, the father seems to want to demonstrate the boundless extent of his love to his son, but remains painfully unaware that in doing so, he is simultaneously (and repeatedly) emphasising his physical dominance (‘‘I love you as high as I can HOP!’ laughed Little Nutbrown Hare, bouncing up and down. ‘I love you as high as I can hop,’ smiled Big Nutbrown Hare – and he hopped so high that his ears touched the branch.’). The son, in displaying his awe (‘I wish I had arms like that … I wish I could hop like that’), also hints at the notion of intergenerational jealousy.

The drawings are charming, and the innocent play between father and son holds a certain tenderness. But at its heart, Guess How Much I Love You is the story of an ultra-competitive father who refuses to concede victory to his infant child. So where exactly does its appeal lie? Like many myths, it draws its power from the universality (and bloodless resolution) of the Oedipus complex.

The psychoanalyst Janine Chasseguet-Smirgel boldly modified orthodox Freudian thought in her 1988 collection Creativity and Perversion. The author explored and redefined the genesis of the Oedipal conflict, focussing on the ‘chronological time lag’ separating parent and child; the conflict is created not only by the difference between the genders but also the ‘difference between the generations’. Little Nutbrown Hare's attempt to outdo his father is an attempt to deny the intergenerational differences that, according to Chasseguet-Smirgel, define the Oedipus complex.

Much like a fable, Guess How Much I Love You is literal in its storytelling and prosaic in its plotting; it does, however, offer an alternative understanding of the irresolvable Oedipal conflicts alluded to in Creativity and Perversion. Little Nutbrown Hare's attempt to emulate his father's physical prowess should not be threatening, but Big Nutbrown Hare perceives it as such. For him, his son's behaviour is a preface to his usurpation, prompting the need for defensive competition and resulting in a ritual humiliation. Through this dynamic, the readers can gain a fleeting insight into the projective processes of the Oedipal phase and the role of the insecure father.