The great Freud is slowly dying of mouth cancer (from the innumerable cigars he smoked) in London, tenderly cared for by his daughter Anna. The novel is a patchwork of memories, dreams, hallucinations, visions, and fabrications, with lots of references to actual persons (Freud's parents, wife, wife's sister, colleagues, patients). The reader quickly becomes confused. Googling names and reading background information helps a lot, and I didn't mind doing it since I'm interested in Freudian and Jungian psychology, but, after a few pages, some readers will likely opt not to continue reading.
There is no plot or linear time frame.