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Basic Jung

Lecture notes of Dr. Lionel Corbett: Private Distribution Only (4th revision)

The ego

To Jung, the ego means human consciousness, or strictly speaking the center of the field of

consciousness, the subject of personal acts of consciousness, one’s sense of identity, the collection

of memories and feelings that feel like “me.” The ego is also the psychological expression of the

combination of all our body sensations. Jung believes that the ego arises out of the Self, or the

unconscious, during development, like the moon separating from the earth as the solar system

formed. The ground plan for the ego lies within the unconscious. An ego evolves in childhood in

response to the demands of the environment—from the collision of the inner and outer worlds. In

development, the ego gradually becomes more and more autonomous.

As it develops, the ego may be more oriented to the inner or the outer worlds; typological

preference decides which of these is more important; the superior functions are connected to the

ego. Jung's ego is not the same as Freud's ego; in Jung the ego is not a signaling device, and does

not have unconscious parts, as it does for Freud; for Jung, the ego is one among many complexes,

or subdivisions of the personality. The ego is that complex that is conscious; Jung usually uses the

metaphor of illumination or brightness to indicate what he means by this; the ego is the organ of

differentiation, reflection, and discrimination of pairs of opposites--subject from object, positive

from negative, etc.

If we have a healthy ego, we have a sense of identity, we can tolerate a degree of stress without

collapsing, we can tolerate painful affect, we know what is inside and what is outside, and we

experience ourselves as having continuity in time and space. We feel that we are the same person

we always have been, and we are relatively autonomous.

The process of becoming conscious and developing an ego is the subject of hero myths (eg

Ulysses) that describe the hero's fight against the powers of darkness that try to annihilate him--this

means taking on the journey into the unconscious; the hero has to liberate himself from ties to the

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parents and attempt psychological rebirth by means of a dangerous adventure, so as to attain the

secret of new life (vol. 5.) The hero is a common motif in many mythologies. In The Hero With a

Thousand Faces (1949) Campbell shows the common structure. We all have to leave home; we are

called to a task, cross a threshold, face danger, trials and ordeals, slay the monster, and we are

rewarded with the treasure hard to attain, the kingdom or the marriage etc. This is an archetypal

journey--Jung and Campbell describe it from a masculine point of view; see also Maureen Murdock

on the woman's journey; think of Psyche's journey.

The monster might be the need to free oneself from mother; if the hero is caught by the monster

and cannot free himself, the anima is never freed from identification with mother, and the man is

trapped in the unconscious, or in a merger with mother (see 12, 437,8). It has been pointed out that

this need to kill the mother-dragon represents a male journey, and may not be the same for women;

Kim Chernin (Reinventing Eve). Jung thought that this pattern applied to development in the first

part of life, during which one emancipates from parents, establishes a career and a social position

and develops the ego. This always leads to a one -sided development, and we rely heavily on the

superior function; the scholar has no time for feeling, the business man does not cultivate the inner

life. Later in life one can let go of being in charge and acknowledge our dependence on the Self,

and develop the inferior function. Today the hero is the astronaut who conquers outer space etc; we

have to explore, and this is an archetypal journey.

The ego became very important in Jung's thinking. It seemed to Jung as if the divine uses human

consciousness to become conscious of itself; this also became important for Jung as an explanation

for creation and incarnation. He thought that the divine becomes conscious in the act of human

reflection, as if the divine could not otherwise be conscious of itself. For this reason, Jung thought

that the ego was important; he did not like the eastern idea of dissolution of the self or the ego as a

goal of spiritual development, since he believed that there could be no consciousness without

someone there to be conscious 9,i, 506. (In eastern thought, there can be consciousness without a

subject). Jung has been criticized for insisting on this western egocentric prejudice, but he is

committed to western individualism, and he was too fragile to tolerate the idea of loss of ego.

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Jung believed that the ego gradually becomes relativized, meaning we realize it is not really the

center of the personality (9, ii, 11)--it exists in relation to the Self.

The objective psyche and the archetypes (See Blake, Visions of the Daughters of Albion, p.

191).

Personal consciousness rests on a level of the psyche that is objective, or autonomous from the

point of view of consciousness. This level is not synonymous with Freud's personal unconscious,

which contains parts of the ego and superego; Jung felt that Freud dealt with this level (7, 441), but

the deeper level has its own laws and patterns. The objective psyche contains archetypal processes

that manifest themselves in image and symbol, in dreams, mythology and fairy tales, fantasy

products, religions, and other symbolic systems such as alchemy. Just as the material world is

ordered, in ways that we call the laws of physics, so the psyche has its own natural law that Junga

calls archetypes.

In MDR ( p. 158-61), Jung reports a 1909 dream of a house with many levels, which began his

thinking about this deeper level of the psyche. He also reports the experience of a patient who

could see the phallus of the sun that was the origin of the wind--(8, 317-8). This was initially

unintelligible until Jung discovered a Mithraic manuscript that described a similar image. He

studied the dreams of black people in the Southern USA, and found motifs from Greek mythology

in them, such as a man crucified on a wheel, which suggested to Jung the ancient sun-wheel

sacrifice to propitiate the sun god. The image of the sun-wheel is traceable back to the Paleolithic

age, before the wheel itself had been invented; this repeats the mythologem of Ixion, who offended

men and gods by killing his father in law to avoid paying the bride-price at his wedding. Zeus took

him to Olympus to purify him, but Ixion tried to seduce Hera. As a punishment, Hermes chained

him by his hands and feet to a wheel that constantly revolves in the sky (CW18, 81) Jung suggests

that that these motifs are common to all people and not to particular races. They express universal

modes of experience. In other words, we are not born with the psyche as a tabula rasa, but with an

enormous potential for different kinds of human experiences. Archetypes are deep structures of the

psyche; they are analogous to the laws of physics. They describe the deep structures of the psyche.

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Like any natural law, they are not in any particular place, any more than the law of gravity is in one

place.

The idea that we are bound together by a common level of the psyche helped to give rise to the idea

that Jung was a mystic; after all, Locke, in the 17th century, had said that we have no innate ideas--

we are born as a tabula rasa, and the only knowledge that we have comes from the senses. In this

theory, human qualities are entirely learned, based purely on culture. But Jung's position is that

because we have innate structures in the psyche (8, 230), the child meets the world with specific

aptitudes or preformed patterns of expectation; the archetypes are the potential for typical human

behavior.

In animals, archetypes are the same as innate release mechanisms (Lorenz, Tinbergen); the animal

has a repertoire of behavior that certain situations evoke; the animal responds with a particular

pattern of behavior. Baby chicks are terrified when even a model of a hawk is drawn overhead, but

not when images of other birds are used, or if the model is drawn backwards over them. Turtles lay

eggs on the beach above the tide level, and when they hatch they head for the sea as fast as

possible, so as not to be eaten by the gulls overhead; this is spontaneous; they know what they must

do. What we call instincts are in the body, but are also expressed psychologically as images,

symbols and fantasies. Are the pyramids in Egypt and in Mexico expressions of the same mental

pattern, or are similar artifacts in different cultures the result of diffusion? Or are they simply due to

the fact that the human brain is similar and we face similar life circumstances?

Jung has been criticized for ignoring the biological and instinctual level of the person, especially

sexuality, and of propounding a purely spiritual psychology. But archetypal theory includes the

biological with the spectrum concept of the archetype. At the same time as the body reacts, so an

image forms in the psyche, because body and psyche are two aspects of a unitary process; the

archetype is a psychosomatic unity. As the bird builds the nest, or as the baby feeds, presumably

images go on in the mind that correspond to the bodily experience. When an instinct is represented

in the mind, it appears as an archetypal image or symbol that expresses the nature of the instinct

imaginally. Psyche is a part of nature; body and mind are a whole; we cannot separate psyche and

biology 8, 232. Early in his writing, Jung does tend to write about body and spirit as polar

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opposites, but in the 1940's he introduced the idea of the psychoid realm, suggesting that archetypes

are actually continuous with inorganic matter; at bottom, psyche is simply world 9, i, 291. The

concept of the psychoid transcends the opposition of psyche or spirit and matter; it is a unitary

worldview.

The archetypes themselves are unknowable; they are known through their effects, such as their

production of symbols/images, or their role in the center of complexes. (Unlike Freud or Lacan,

Jung stresses image over language when discussing the unconscious.; in fact, initially he used the

term primordial image, borrowed from the 19th century historian Jacob Burckhardt. See Lewis,

The Historical Development of the Concept of the Archetype, Quadrant, 22, 47, 1989. ) The image

or representation is the way the archetype appears in the mind; the image is not identical with the

archetype. The archetype itself allows many empirical expressions (letters, 2, p. 461). The

archetype itself is unknowable--the ding an sich; in the Kantian sense it is the irrepresentable

numenon; its existence is inferred from its effects (letters 2, p. 23). Jung uses the analogy of the

invisible axial system of the crystal, that preforms the shape of the crystal in the mother liquid,

although it has no material existence of its own; we can represent the crystal (image) but not the

underlying pattern former. The pattern-forming mechanism is an a priori possibility of

representation; each person and each culture gives particular contents to different archetype; these

are the images. (Four Archetypes, p. 13). When we fall in love, the anima or the animus has been

constellated; we fall in love without being conscious of why we do so; the archetype is

unconscious, so falling in love seems spontaneous. This effect is what matters; Jung insists

frequently that he is trying to describe archetypes phenomenologically without taking a

philosophical or metaphysical position about their nature or origins; we have certain experiences

that he calls archetypal.

There are as many archetypes as there are typical human situations and beliefs; belief in a divine

being, the Oedipus complex, Great Mother, Sky Father, anima, animus, hero, magus, paradise, the

night sea journey, the helpful animal, the dying and resurrected god. Archetypes prepare us to

behave in particular situations. We are born predisposed to experience mother; the actual mother

fills in this archetypal potential. Sexual attraction is not only a function of social construction--it

does not only function as culture lays down; we respond spontaneously to the opposite sex because

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the anima or animus is constellated by the other person" in spite of ourselves." The question over

which Jung got into trouble was whether everyone's archetypal inheritance is the same, or whether

different archetypes move through different races. In the 1930's, Jung made some stupid remarks

about Aryan and Jewish psychology, and about European and Asian psychological differences.

This raised the possibility of psychological differences based on race, and the possibility of

justifying racial discrimination. (See Lingering Shadows, and Samuel's essay in the paperback

edition of Jung's Essays on Contemporary Events, 1988.)

Usually, Jung refers to the archetypes as the common inheritance of all humanity; they are

generally human, everyone is contained within the same psyche, and the same archetypes are found

in different races. (See the Zarathustra Seminars, p. 648). This phenomenon could be explained

by the migration of peoples, but he also saw archetypal ideas in the dreams and psychotic material

of people with no contact with these ideas, such as the sun phallus. He felt he had ruled out

cryptomnesia; are the links fortuitous, or does the mind have its own history as does the body?

The other issue is whether he is a Lamarckian; sometimes he says that archetypes are inherited.

Lamarck suggested that characteristics acquired during a lifetime could be passed on to offsprings;

the modern theory of evolution suggest that only genetic mutations can be inherited. In his early

writing, Jung initially sounded Lamarkian in 7, 109 (1917, revised up to 1942) when he says that

archetypes are the deposits of constantly repeated experiences of humanity, pathways traced out by

the cumulative experience of our ancestors 8, 99. They are images of of typical human events that

have crystallized out over time (7, 151) because of the similarity of human experience over the

ages, because of endless repetition (9, i, 99) as forms without contents. Here he says that the

archetypes are the repository of human existence and experience. When he says the archetypes are

inherited with the body, he is still in a biological mode in his attempt to reconcile biology with the

life of the spirit (1942; Essays on a Science of Mythology, p. 74). Later he realized that the

question of the origin of the archetypes is an unanswerable question; in Man and His symbols,

1961, p. 58 he says they are of unknown origin. In his later work, Jung actually rejected the idea

that contents could be inherited (18, 524, 1127, 1228; 8, 718); only the disposition or possibility of

having certain experiences are inherited; the archetype is empty and formal only (9,i, 155, 152)--we

do not inherit ideas, only the possibility of having them. The archetype is not determined as to its

content; it is not an unconscious idea--9, i, 79. We are disposed to live in a certain type of world;

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eg, we experience the feminine in a way that is not simply dependent on the women we actually

meet--we are attuned to women from the start (7, 300).

The archetype can be thought of as an open system that lays down an outline within which a wide

range of behavior is possible, such as sexual behavior. Open systems can be contrasted with closed

patterns like the bee's honey dance, which are fixed in every detail. Many people think that this

whole biological argument is irrelevant, since Jung's main approach is hermeneutical, and we do

not need to intrude the language of biology into this domain.

Actually Freud was Lamarckian; in Moses and Monotheism he postulates the inheritance of

feelings about the father that go back to the primal horde. Jung thought that Freud had identified

the first archetype--the incest taboo--and its mythic component, the Oedipus complex.

Archetypal images appear in dreams, visions, fantasies, religions and mythologies. There are an

infinite number of possible representations of the archetype, which are personified as the gods and

goddesses of mythology. (For example, Christ himself is not the archetype; he personifies an

underlying archetype of the redeemer, or the the Anthropos, or the Self, also seen as Buddha,

Osiris, Dionysius, etc. (Jung borrows the word Anthropos from Ezekiel and Daniel to describe this

archetype. ) To show how archetypal images overlap, note that Jesus also embodies the archetype

of the savior and the healer. Mythology contains a collection of archetypal images in the form of

stories. Mythology is therefore a mirror of the objective psyche, as these images have been

understood and elaborated in particular cultures. The reason that various cultures have similar

mythic themes is because the objective psyche is common to all of humanity; there is a common

underlying organization. Any mythologem can pop up in any person for this reason; we are not

totally products of our culture.

In a very late letter (vol. 2, 1960, p. 563) Jung says that the archetypes are autonomous, with a sort

of consciousness or psychological life of their own; he calls them animalia, or animated beings, and

says that they are autonomous, and this autonomy does not disappear when the particular image in

which they are manifest disappears. (This personification of the archetypes as animated beings

with their own consciousness. gets him in trouble in respectable scientific circles, but not among

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the neo-romantics at Pacifica.) The tendency to personify is characteristic of Jung; rather than his

rational side, this is his poetic streak, which prefers drama and mythopoetic ways of thinking.

Jung believed (in the same letter to Serrano) that we are affected by these forces in a way that is

deeper than our own will; we are not entirely in control of our destiny, and we need to honor the

gods that affect us. We are not master in our own house, and we should study what affects us so

deeply (letters vol. 2, 594). For example, Wotan is an old Germanic storm god, and god of battle;

his name is said to mean "one who makes mad" since he made people furious. The Germanic

people used to sacrifice their captives in war to him, by burning, stabbing and strangling them.

Wotan was also the god of the dead (he has later connections to Mercury); this is the manifest

image that is elaborated in that mythology as a character in the stories. Underneath the image is the

basic form determinant that causes the Wotan phenomenon, which Jung saw at work behind the

Nazi phenomenon, when this archetypal force possessed Germany. This phenomenon fits with his

idea that archetypal forces can remain dormant until cultural conditions allow them to surface.

Archetypes are like dry river-beds that can dry up and refill when the water starts to flow again (10,

395). Certain cultures allow the expression of particular archetypes more so than others--eg, the

archetype of initiation is found in many tribal cultures but not so much in ours.

There is an ideological problem with the concept of the archetype, which is that people resist

theories of an innate human nature that is common to all people, since this seems to detract from

human freedom and justifies repressive political systems. If we are by nature territorial or

hierarchical, we cannot abolish private property or social ranks; they are embedded in human

nature. This may be another reason that Jung was ostracized by academia (Stevens). But Jung

thought that the environment was important in filling in the content of the archetype (8, 324), and

the content is culturally determined (17, 160), which is why these are not stereotypes--a common

criticism of the idea. Jung rejects the existentialist position that we are totally free to decide who

we are, but he does not believe that we are totally bound by instincts; we have relative freedom, and

the archetypes set some limits on it (8, 398). He distinguished between "mass man" who was

engulfed by the environment, and the person who is rooted in the inner world (10, 462), who is

more autonomous and authentic; this is the basis of the idea of individuation.

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Another criticism is that the idea of the collective unconscious is racist. Jung wrote that there are

psychological differences between races and cultures, and this led to the charge of anti-semitism,

but he defended himself by saying that to say that races have their own differences and

psychopathology does not imply depreciation (10, 466, 10, 1014). Actually the idea of the

objective psyche can be seen to affirm the basic unity of humanity, since the archetypes belong to

humanity in general (18, 79). "Somewhere you are the same as a man of another race" since we

have the same unconscious structures, just as we all have the same heart (18, 93). The

psychological differences between races are the result of culture, not the archetypes.

The idea of deep structures in the psyche is consonant with similar ideas in other fields. In Levi-

Strauss' structural anthropology, it is noted that societies with no contact with each other have

similar organizational forms. Piaget talks about preformed categories in the mind. Chomsky noted

an innate predisposition for language; children aged 5-6 seem to use a larger number of phrases

than they have heard. Contemporary neuroscience agrees that our brain structures process

perceptions in ways that predisposes us to behave in particular ways. Perhaps an Aristotelian

would say that the archetypes derive from experience of the actual mother and father; the Platonist

would say that there are primordial ideas or images that exist a priori. Plato believed that learning

represented a kind of recollection of Forms or ideas that are stimulated by experience. The idea of

the archetype is also seen as an extension of Kant's idea that the mind has a priori structures that

shape knowledge of the world. An anthropologist called Levy-Bruhl called them "representations

collectives," and in comparative religion they are called "categories of the imagination." Adolf

Bastian used the term "elementary" or "primordial" thoughts (9,i, 89).

I do not think there is much point in asking where the archetypes come from or whether they

evolve. One can do a great deal of physics without knowing where the laws of physics came from

or why natural constants have the actual values that they have! There existence is a just-so story;

this is how things are.

The words "archetype" and "spirit" refer to the same principle. When an archetype is experienced

relatively directly, it produces what Otto called a numinous experience; when Moses (Exodus 3: 2)

stood before the burning bush that was not consumed by the fire, he knew, as anyone would

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without being told, that this was not an ordinary phenomenon. Such an uncanny phenomenon

transcends his ordinary human experience. What traditional religions call an experience of spirit,

the psychologist calls a numinous experience of the archetype. But archetypal manifestations are

not "spiritual" in the sense of something non-material; we do not need to split matter and spirit.

Matter has its own numinosity, and it can manifest the sacred--think of the power of the nuclear

bomb as an example of the power of matter.

Fire is one of the commonest archetypal manifestations of the numinosum in all cultures and

religions, as it is throughout the Bible. In antiquity, when God accepted a sacrifice, he consumed it

with his fire. Wherever we look, fire represents the presence of spiritual energy, the energy of life

and desire, light in the darkness, and purification. Therefore, the psychologist regards fire as an

archetypal symbol of the power of the divine. Given the situation that Moses was called upon to

deal with, fire also suggests the archetypal or spiritual capacity for destruction, re-generation and

transformation. Perhaps the fire in the bush is a link to his subsequent experience on the volcano of

Mt. Sinai, which was covered in smoke and fire when Moses spoke to God, and is also a link to the

pillar of fire that led the Hebrews by night. The New Testament account of the descent of tongues

of flame at Pentecost, or Jesus appearing from heaven "in flaming fire," (2 Thess: 1,7) are similar

instances of the mythical depiction of spirit or archetype in the form of fire and light. Fire is the

symbolic way in which a particular archetypal quality expresses itself in a specific situation, to

create a specific meaning.

Ideally we try to relate to the numinous experience of the archetype, meaning that the ego is not

overwhelmed by it, leading to a state of possession, which leads to inflation, such as becoming

Jesus or Mary, or imagining that we are more than human. Nor does the ego try to ignore it by

projecting it onto others, which identifies with it too little, such as projecting the savior or the

anima or animus onto others.

In the Judeo-Christian tradition, "spirit" is the traditional name for the divine when it is

experienced in a somewhat impersonal manner. In the Gospels, the Holy Spirit is spoken of as a

kind of alter ego of Christ, in the sense that after his departure he promised to send the spirit in his

stead. The word spirit suggests a manifestation of the power and will of God, so that it has long

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been believed that when the spirit takes over a person he or she becomes an instrument of the

divine. Traditionally, in such states of possession, prophecy or oracles are uttered. Translated into

psychological language, this means that the personality is overwhelmed by an archetypal process

from the objective psyche. In the Bible, Sampson is unusually strong because of the spirit of God,

which also makes King Saul insane. The Gospels speak of the spirit as responsible for revelation,

and indeed any numinous experience does act as a personal revelation. However, although a

numinous experience reveals the presence of the archetype, it is never the archetype itself, which

can only be known by means of the particular symbolic shape it takes as it enters the human level

of the psyche. Thus, when Moses saw the burning bush, he knew that the fire itself was not God,

only God's manifestation.

The archetypes of the objective psyche manifest themselves in as many ways as there are numinous

experiences. Here I would like to focus on two broad categories, namely the archetypes

experienced as the powers of nature, and as patterns of human behavior. In antiquity, natural forces

were personified as gods or goddesses because of their numinosity. Early peoples attributed the

mystery of the growth of crops, on which their lives depended, to an earth Mother goddess. Most

religions and mythologies have some kind of divine Mother who is responsible for nourishing and

replenishing the earth, and for personal comfort, soothing and intercession. Psychologically, this

archetypal principle is known as the Mother archetype, which is always given a local name by

particular religions. In Christianity, she is called the Virgin Mary; other religions have other names

for the same archetype. There is a Queen of Heaven in many traditions, who is that aspect of

divinity that has to do with mothering. Her mythic names are Demeter, Cybele, Mary, Hathor or

Isis, which are different formulations of the same deep structure in the autonomous psyche. Only

the dress changes according to local customs and doctrines. In her positive aspect, this archetypal

force is nurturing and protective, while in her negative aspect she is rejecting, devouring, and

death-dealing. (Note that “the archetype” is not a unitary entity; it consists of a set of

processes—the archetype is actually a verb.)

Even though the names of the gods and goddesses differ in different religious systems and

mythologies, the attributes of a god or goddess always describe archetypal or spiritual forces such

as birth and death, law and order, art, healing, fertility, and the movement of the heavens. Human

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descriptions of gods and goddesses are an attempt to speak about these forces by personifying

them, giving them names, and telling stories about them. The western monotheistic traditions

claim that their descriptions of the divine are more sophisticated than the earlier pagan pantheons of

gods, although the monotheists have simply gathered up all the archetypal functions of the many

earlier gods and attributed these functions to one God who is in charge of everything.

In the psyche the archetypes take the form of potentials for patterns of behavior that lead to

characteristic ways of being human. An archetype is responsible for behavior that does not have to

be learned. For example, because a baby is born with a set of archetypal potentials, it "knows"

how to be a baby, just as a mother knows how to be a mother without being told. Both baby and

mother have a set of built in expectations about what will happen. These expectations belong to the

Mother-Child archetype. This archetype allows the baby to expect that it will be fed, soothed, and

responded to, and allows mothers to meet these needs without training, just as a bird can build a

nest without being taught how to do so. Similarly, there is an innate expectation that someone will

be present who will fill in the child's archetypal potential to experience fathering, and this archetype

is represented in mythology as the Father gods of the traditions such as Zeus or the sky Father of

the Bible.

It would be a mistake to assume that these archetypal expectations are only the result of genetic

inheritance, only the result of the way that the brain works, because if we are not materialists we

cannot reduce the psyche to a manifestation of the brain or the genes. The genes express archetypal

patterns at the level of the body, but the structure of the genes themselves may be the result of

archetypal ordering principles. We cannot tell which came first, or if there is an underlying pattern-

forming principle that affects both body and psyche simultaneously. Archetypal theory suggests

that there is information available to the baby about what to expect from the environment and how

to interact with it. This information is organized as a set of potentials that are present at birth, and

these potentials express themselves both genetically and psychologically at the same time.

To study the "other side" of the psyche, which is the world of the archetypes, mythology is very

valuable. Mythology depicts archetypal situations; Jung calls mythology the "textbook" of the

archetypes; here the unconscious represents itself as a story, not rationally. The representation of

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the unconscious by means of story is more faithful than conceptual modes of thought as a way of

representing the psyche's processes. Myth is the primordial language of the psyche and no

intellectual formulation comes close to it (Psychology and Alchemy, p. 25.) Mythology reveals the

unconscious processes of the psyche. To describe these processes, Jung prefers myth to abstract

language that is not rooted in the experience of the psyche. Symbols allow a re-experiencing of the

process of the psyche that too much clarity actually dispels (Alchemical studies, p. 199). Myths

and dreams arise from a common, myth making level of the psyche, so that the study of mythology

can cast light on the amplification of dreams by placing the dream in a larger context. When trying

to understand the meaning of a mythological motif in a dream, it is important to understand the

personal history and the situation of the dreamer, just as we have to understand the historical and

cultural context of the myth itself. The mythic images always present themselves in terms of the

person's specific life. See the example in the Dream Seminars of October 30, 1929, p. 337--on the

figure of Christ as a hero with a sword, which amplifies the dream of an analysand of his.

An archetype is a mythological figure (The spirit in man, art, literature, p. 81), but one that is

colored by the culture in which it arises. For example, there are many heroes, with the same

underlying archetype since we all have to leave home and go on the journey, but different cultures

color the hero archetype according to their own preferences--the Greek hero Odysseus looks

different than Sir Galahad. Because myths are so culture bound, some people think that fairy tales

are actually closer to the core archetypal dynamics of the unconscious themselves--they are more

similar across cultures.

The fact that myths or fairy tales with the same themes are found across cultures suggests that what

seems to be only "my" experience is also reflected in the larger experience of humanity, and always

has been, because the psyche is structured in particular ways that tend to produce experiences of a

particular quality. For example, hundreds of versions of the story of Cinderella have been found in

different parts of the world. It is a household tale on every continent. The Cinderella story has

eternal relevance; we are gripped by it because the story is a perennial one. Whenever and

wherever we live, this theme resonates with people who were treated like Cinderella in childhood.

Anne Baring (Psyche's Stories, 1991), building on the work of earlier scholars, has extracted the

essence of the story based on its roots in world mythology and folklore. She suggests that when we

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strip away all the local coloring of the story and look for the core theme, Cinderella is actually

about the transfiguration of the soul from a sooty drudge to a radiant bride, and about the soul's

exile because it has forgotten its divine origin. After its descent into the manifest world, the soul

journeys to find herself and regain her relationship to the divine world from which she emanated,

so that she may return with the knowledge of who she really is. The fairy godmother is actually

Sophia, or divine wisdom, who presides over the soul's quest for this discovery. Finally the

masculine and feminine potentials of the soul are united in a sacred marriage. Baring suggests that

Cinderella may also be seen as the archetypal feminine that has been badly damaged by the

patriarchy and relegated to the role of servant. The image of authentic union between the

masculine and feminine has been carried by this story until such time as real union becomes a

conscious possibility in the culture. According to early 20th. century scholar Harold Bayley (The

Lost Language of Symbolism, 1912), the name "Cinderella" has its etymological roots in ancient

words that mean light and fire; cinders are an earthly analog of the stars. Another level of the story

therefore represents the light of the soul whose divinity is never totally extinguished even though

the soul is unrecognized and dishonored on the earth. Bayley (p. 196) therefore suggests that

Cinderella symbolizes the awakening, growth, and elevation of divine Wisdom within the mind.

There are many such stories whose archetypal theme is that of light hidden in the darkness, light

that is given as an act of grace, or light that has to be found and redeemed. These stories are

moving because they strike a powerful latent chord within us.

The word archetype is sometimes applied to a figure, sometimes to a situation such as crossing a

ford or getting through a wall of flame, or it can be used to describe an idea such as the union of

opposites on the cross. It can also be used to describe a process such as the process of initiation.

This is an example of how certain archetypes have hardly any acceptable cultural outlets, even

though they persist in the psyche. The archetype of initiation is neglected in our culture, so that it

has to operate unconsciously, and this often causes trouble. We see the way this archetype works

by studying societies where it is more obvious. In pre-technological tribal cultures, this archetype

comes into operation spontaneously, whenever a transition is needed from one status to another, for

example, in order to make a boy into a man, or a girl into a woman. These societies feel that one

does not simply become a man or woman by default. A ritual is necessary to activate this process,

which aims at the total transformation of the individual by means of the ritual. Rites of passage

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have evolved in response to the pressure of the archetype of initiation. These rites overcome any

inertia or unwillingness within the person to accept the necessity for a change of status, so they

ensure the continuity of the culture. Rites of passage are needed whenever we either have to move

into a new stage of life or regress and remain stuck. By ensuring development, these rituals

produce a sense of rejuvenation and renewal, and they enable the individual to move into a new

status supported and acknowledged by his or her society. The initiate is made radically conscious

of his or her new status and is given a place in an ordered cosmos, together with all the attendant

responsibilities. Because of the numinosity of the archetype of initiation, the ritual has such a

profound emotional effect on the person that the new position is unmistakable, and indeed is felt to

be divinely sanctioned. The person then has a clear position in society, so the individual and the

group are cohesively linked. The rituals also give the initiate access to the sacred symbols of the

culture, because he or she is told the myths, sacred stories and secrets of the tribe, such as the

names of the secret gods. The initiate is then empowered to participate in the life of the sacred as it

is understood by his or her culture.

In our own society, such rites of passage have almost disappeared, except for religious

occasions such as baptism, confirmation or bar mitzvahs, and the marriage ceremony. However

these ceremonies have little of the intensity of the rites of passage of tribal cultures, who better

understand the need for an emotionally powerful experience at these transitional periods. Boys'

initiation rites typically involve seclusion, ordeals such as circumcision, maltreatment such as

beatings, being terrorized by elders dressed as demons, sleeplessness, symbolic death and rebirth,

and dietary restrictions. The boy learns a living mythology by participating in its enactment.

Ideally, a man emerges from the ordeal who knows about courage and self-denial in the face of

danger, but who can also control these strengths and apply them for the greater good of the

community. He knows how to relate to other people, and how to work harmoniously as part of a

group.

Women's rites too can be painful and dangerous. Among the Nootka people of Vancouver Island,

B. C., the rite of passage of girls into womanhood involves their being taken far out into the ocean

and left to swim to shore alone. The event is surrounded by prayer, chanting and much social

support from her elders. This act of courage in the water is said to transform the girl into a woman;

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after successfully completing the test, she is able to marry and have children in the clear knowledge

of who she is (Cameron, 1981). Other girl's initiation rites involve scarification of her body, when

symbols of the tribe's mythology are carved into her flesh (Lincoln, Emerging from the Chrysalis ).

Because the body has been permanently altered, the initiate realizes that she is no longer a child.

In the absence of socially sanctioned forms for its expression, the archetype of initiation does not

go away, but instead produces constant demand for an outlet. This internal pressure may

unconsciously lead to behavior that actually represents the spontaneous emergence of the archetype

in an unconscious form. Puberty, or the time of transition from childhood to young adulthood, is a

good model to illustrate the need for initiation, since it is such a potentially dangerous period of

transition. In a remarkable confirmation of the fact that the psyche has innate archetypal patterns

built into it, regardless of the culture, the behavior of adolescents in western cultures with no formal

rites of passage bears uncanny similarity to the forms of initiation seen in tribal cultures in which

this archetype is consciously enacted. Adolescents in industrialized societies indulge in a variety of

behaviors that may seem inexplicable until one realizes that they are unconsciously acting out a

search for initiation, because without initiation life stagnates. Hence the common cry among this

age group (and among uninitiated people of any age) that life is meaningless, and the frequent

search for a way to make sense of life.

In the absence of formal initiation, archetypal patterns of initiation may emerge spontaneously

without the necessary social containment. The frightening aspect of this process for the

adolescent's family is that some form of symbolic death, or risk of actual death, occurs in many

rites of passage. Among adolescent boys, the search for initiation is seen in the pursuit of activities

that require a frightening ordeal to prove the boy's manhood, in order to gain adult recognition of

his achievements. This often leads to activities that require a combination of bravery, agility and

danger, such as dangerous sports, athletics, body-building or military service. Adolescents

searching for initiation may seek out danger in the form of fast driving or other tests of courage,

and if the process goes awry actual death may occur. It may not be a coincidence that some

adolescents spontaneously seek out body piercing or other bodily mutilations, since these are

traditional forms of initiation into adulthood. Adolescents who do this feel strangely satisfied, but

they cannot give a good explanation for their behavior because they are unconsciously following an

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archetypal prompting. In the grip of this archetype, adolescents feel a need to do something radical

in order to leave behind everything familiar, whereupon it may feel to parents that the child is

ungrateful, or as if the child that they knew has died to them. Many adolescents experience the

religious dimension of the archetype of initiation, which involves a need for intense spirituality,

often found in religious conversion or the search for a spiritual community.

In tribal cultures, ritual elders are able to help the initiate through the process of initiation, because

the elders understand what is needed since they have been through it themselves. In situations

when there are no adequate ritual elders, we find delinquency, gang behavior, alcoholism,

dangerous driving, severe depressions or other crises that force the young person to grow up with

little direction. The archetype can then only manifest itself in a harmful form, in a way that brings

people to their knees in order to force transformation. Conventional psychology and psychiatry

sees these behavior problems from a purely clinical perspective, but they are also the result of an

attempt at auto-initiation. For some fortunate individuals, the autonomous psyche arranges

archetypal experiences that initiate the individual without loss of life or health. Ideally, a

psychological new birth is the successful outcome of this period. The young person learns a new

way of being in the world and lets go of his or her childhood mode of being. Otherwise, the

uninitiated person simply remains an emotional and spiritual child in an adult body.

Because our society suffers from an absence of formal initiation rites, transition into a new status

may happen unconsciously. If a boy has never been initiated, he becomes someone who outwardly

looks like a man but who is really still an adolescent in his relationships and his use of power.

When such "men" reach high political positions, they may do great harm. Uninitiated adolescent

girls may become pregnant unintentionally, because their transition into womanhood is not marked

clearly and powerfully, as it is in tribal cultures. In the absence of initiation it is as if the girl does

not realize that she has become a woman and that her new status has profound implications.

Any numinous experience, any contact with the sacred, is potentially powerful enough to perform

the function of initiating the individual into a new level of consciousness and moving him or her

into a new status. In a sense therefore, all contact with the numinosum is initiatory. In the absence

of outer initiation from the culture, the Self may take the lead by initiating the person from within,

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by means of a numinous experience, either positive or negative. For example, a young man, in a

painful quandary about the direction his life should take, had the following dream, which he

described as "unbelievably clear":

I'm sitting on a hillside overlooking the ocean, under a big tree.It's night; I look up, and the stars move to form a message in a script and alanguage I do not understand. As they move, a voice, which seems to come fromevery direction, says: "you are blessed to have this choice. You have theopportunity to be of service to other people." The voice also speaks an unknownlanguage but the odd thing is that I understand it with no difficulty. The sense isthat the stars and the voice say the same thing, which is that I have theopportunity to do a great deal of good if I pick a career that allows service toothers.

This dream left the dreamer with a sense of deliverance and clarity about his life. He went into

training in a helping profession, at which he is now very successful. The dream is an example of

initiation from the Self, from the level of the autonomous psyche. Because he was in a state of

transitional turmoil, with no outer direction, this archetype became activated. Again we see the

theme of numinous experience providing specific help with an emotional problem.

The archetype can either be experienced positively or negatively. The Great Mother may appear in

her terrible form, for example as Kali, who creates and destroys life; she represents the inexorable

life-death cycle of destruction and regeneration, a bloody and repetitive cycle. The Witch can be

icy cold; thing of Medusa, who turns people to stone. Or She can appear in benign form as the

BVM, or as Kwan Yin or Demeter. Jung felt that science had reduced this archetype to "matter"

without giving Mother Earth its due significance (Man and his symbols, p. 84). Similarly, the

father archetype can be expressed as the benign sky god, or Zeus with his thunderbolts, or Saturn or

Chronos. Uranus would not let his children be born, and tried to push them back into their mother

and imprison them in her. Cronos castrated his father Uranus and freed his siblings, but then

proved to be as tyrannical as his father; he swallowed his children as they were born. His son Zeus,

the father god of the Greeks, punished mortals severely if they disobeyed him. He often withheld

the necessities of life, and cruelly punished anyone such as Prometheus who tried to improve things

for humanity. Although he could be protective of his favorites, Zeus also tried to destroy humanity

by causing a great flood because people were impious. Before that, the Babylonian god Enlil

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caused a flood that nearly killed the whole human race, while he was in a bad mood. The biblical

father god is also unpredictable and violent.

Jung thought that the reason parents were perceived as so powerful was that behind the personal

parent is the figure of the divine parent, so that the person herself seems larger than life. The parent

humanizes the archetype. The positive aspects of the mother archetype have to do with nurture,

containment, protection--hence the mother goddesses; the negative side of the Mother are depicted

in terms of overprotection, smothering, etc, and hence mythic images of witches, devouring

dragons, or the grave. Jung says that he has isolated the virtual image, or the psychic potential,

from the content or from individual experiences, by comparing the mythology of different cultures-

-this comparison gives us an idea of the nature of the underlying archetypal process.

Just as a dream compensates for the one-sidedness of consciousness, so archetypal images as they

are brought out by artists compensate for the one-sidedness of a culture (15, 131). For example,

Jung thinks that James Joyce's Ulysses, which has a lack of feeling, compensates for the

sentimentality of the age that produced it--it was written just after WW1. Joyce is cool and

unsentimental, in contrast to the glorification of war that had happened. Jung feels that this

sentimentality had led to the death of millions of people, and Joyce compensated for this with his

emotional disengagement. (Not all readers agree with Jung's view of Ulysses, and see a lot of

feeling in the novel, but his is a theoretical point.) In the Faust myth according to Goethe, Jung

felt that Faust fell in love with the young girl Gretchen to compensate for the fact that the industrial

civilization around Goethe is only interested in the search for knowledge. Gretchen is an

archetypal image of the eternal feminine. Gretchen compensates for Faust's inhumanity, or for the

masculine quest for knowledge and power. Faust worships success, which stands in the way of

moral reflection--Jung felt this was a caricature of the average German (After the catastrophe,

1945).

Jung used mythology and its archetypal motifs to amplify dreams and fantasies; eg letter of Nov. 2,

1960. Many people find this a too subjective use of mythology; academic studies of mythology try

to deal with it objectively, as "out there," and there is not much connection between "in here" and

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"out there." Also, as Ginette Paris pointed out, the Jungian approach to myth is to use it to illumine

the modern day psyche, not to study ancient cultures.

The Cultural Unconscious is an idea of Joseph Henderson, who believed that much of what Jung

called the personal unconscious. is not really personal but is actually determined by the culture. He

describes the cultural unconscious as an area of historical memory lying between the collective

unconscious. and the manifest pattern of the culture. He says that the forms that the archetypes

take are mutable, varying with culture. (See The origins of a theory of cultural attitudes, In:

Shadow and Self: Selected Papers in Analytical Psychology, Chiron press, 1990, and Quadrant,

1988, 21, p. 7-16). Henderson's theory tries to explain how myths are changed by the culture, so

that they do not express the objective psyche directly. He distinguishes between myths of the

cultural unconscious that are tied to their own particular time and place, and myths of the objective

psyche that are truly universal. As well, cultural attitudes seem to color archetypal images.

The Shadow

The shadow is an archetypal aspect of everyone's psyche. The term is used in various ways. One

meaning is to describe the dark side of the personality, parts of oneself that are dystonic,

unpleasant, shameful, or unacceptable. The shadow appears when we are drunk or possessed by a

complex, or full of self-doubt. It may appear in dreams as a same sex, unknown figure behaving

badly, or in a way that we would not imagine ourselves behaving (letters, 2, p. 160) (16, 470; 11,

131, p. 134). This is roughly the same as Freud's unconscious, consisting of repressed material or

split off feelings. The shadow may also be positive, for example in a person with low self esteem

who is really a good person but cannot feel it. Or the shadow may exist as unconscious talents and

qualities. A habitual criminal does not live out his good side, which remains shadow.

Confrontation with the personal shadow is painful but crucial for self-knowledge; Jung feels this

should be the first part of therapy. It is not difficult to discover one's shadow; make a list of all the

people you do not like, or ask about what one does not like about people of another race or color.

Initially the shadow tends to be projected onto others. Hence the mythologem of the scapegoat;

this projection underlies racial prejudice, pogroms, etc. by turning the enemy into a devil. The

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enemy is always portrayed as depraved, evil and inhuman, given epithets such as the evil empire,

the axis of evil, etc.

In literature, we see the shadow as Dr. Jeckyl and Mr. Hyde (although this can also be seen as an

example of an internal complex), where Hyde is a killer, the shadow of the healing doctor. The

idea for this story first came to Stevenson in a nightmare. The shadow is also seen in Scrooge's

dream as the ghost of Marley. Jung sees the shadow and persona as an example of the tension of

opposites within the personality; the persona is compensatory for the shadow--it tends to be the

opposite of the shadow. What is needed is a degree of integration of the shadow, enduring it or

coming to terms with it, or mastery of it, eg converting rage to assertiveness, vulnerability to

empathy for others.

The archetypal or collective shadow is the archetype of collective evil; the mythological Devil.

Persona

The persona was the name given to the mask worn by classical actors, with a hole at the mouth

through which the sound came. It is that part of us that interfaces with society and adapts to it by

fulfilling its role expectations about how to behave. There are social demands about the behavior

required for certain professions and occupations, so there is a cultural dimension to the persona.

Because this is one's idea of how to behave, it conceals the shadow. The persona mediates between

the ego and the outer world, acting as a compromise between the demands of the culture and the

needs of the ego. This process allows adaptation but obscures individuality, since when we identify

too much with the persona it may take on the characteristics of a false self, or a lack of real identity.

The persona is not inherently false--the problem arises if we identify with it too closely, which

happens when the ego is fragile or rigid; if the ego is really undeveloped, the persona has to stand

in for it. The persona is a problem if it cannot be relinquished easily because it is used defensively,

or if we adapt a persona that is not right for us, or if we promise more than is really there. We

cannot behave like the doctor or the marine drill sergeant in every situation. In dreams, clothes

comment on the persona, or it may be expressed as diplomas, qualifications on the wall, or other

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status symbols. Jung notes that we tend to be invested in the persona because it is "rewarded in

cash." (9, i, 221).

Anima and animus

There is a good deal of patriarchal thinking in the classical literature, and this is where we find

some of it. Neumann (Creation of consciousness) says that consciousness is masculine even in

women, and the unconscious is feminine even in men. Obviously there is no need to genderize

consciousness. Two components of the psyche that Jung did genderize are anima and animus,

which Jung suggests act as a bridge to the unconscious. because of their otherness. Anima and

animus are archetypal potentials that are filled in with the current gender stereotypes about how

men and women "should" be.

Anima and animus are images of contrapsychic sexuality, or the masculine and feminine principles

in the psyche. They are archetypal in form, but their content is influenced by cultural stereotypes

and actual people that we come across in development such as mother and father. Jung was correct

in giving equal weight to anima and animus, but, when he tried to describe the content of these

principles, he fell into the mistake of confusing description with prescription; he thought that these

contents were of necessity as the patriarchy had forced them to be. For example, he confused

femininity with feeling and intuition, masculinity with thinking and sensation; this confuses

typology with gender. Jung did not seem to realize that he was describing cultural stereotypes, and

thought he was describing archetypal necessities. Thus, he thought that the eros principle was the

underpinning of female psychology, and the logos the basis of masculinity.

The Eros principle, which Jung saw at the base of women's psychology, contains relatedness,

intimacy, love, harmony, integration, and the valuing of subjectivity rather than collective attitudes.

Eros is earthy, material, passive, receptive, and creative. The Logos principle contains word, deed,

power, meaning, reason, judgment, discrimination, objective interests, structure, abstraction,

clarity, universality, spiritual in the sense of non -material (10, 255). Each principle complements

what the other lacks (10, 275). To achieve wholeness, each sex must develop both principles; to

the extent that they are ignored, they strengthen in the unconscious; the animus possessed woman is

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not related but power driven, and the anima possessed man is possessed by moods instead of

consciously in touch with his feeling life. In general Jung was more positive about women's

development than Freud, but some of his comments about women are just rubbish (10, 243).

Today we would say that there is no need to genderize qualities like assertiveness or nurturing.

Jung felt that the contents of the animus were early on determined by experiences with father and

with cultural images of maleness. The animus is initially unconscious, and bridges to the

unconscious, allowing previously inaccessible logos qualities to emerge into consciousness. It is

found in dreams, and in projection onto men; when positive, it gives commitments, beliefs,

inspirations, allows meaning, allows discrimination (16, 505) and the capacity for reflection (9, ii,

33) and creativity, assertion, and initiative. If undeveloped, the animus makes women too clinging,

and allows men to take over; such women tend to be anima women, who will be whatever the man

wants. A well developed animus allows a woman to make up her own mind and decide what she

really thinks about things; Jung felt that the animus is only a problem when a woman does not

allow the natural expression of her feelings. When negative, leading to animus possession, the

animus is power driven, produces irrational opinions that are not really her own (7, 332), makes

women bossy, ruthless, domineering, abrasive, competitive, aggressive, fooled by second rate

thinking, unrelated, and opinionated. The animus-possessed woman feels that she is always right;

animus opinions "irritate a man to death," and a woman's criticism is felt as a form of ruthless

attack (see Harding on the animus hound). Jung tends to dwell on the negative side of the animus-

-perhaps because of the fear of his mother's animus, what he called her "natural mind." He found

his mother's criticisms crushing. (See Dream Analysis, in notes of the 1928-1930 seminar, 1984, p.

76 and 96, and Von Franz's book on the effect of mother's animus on the boy in Puer Eternus, p.

127-9. He felt that the woman's animus had an undermining effect on a man's confidence in

himself and his work--the discouraging word that provokes moodiness and resentment. He felt that

when a man gets moody and resentful and a woman nags, the real issue is between the animus and

the anima, not a human dialogue.

In her book Anima and Animus, Emma Jung notes four manifestations of the animus that are also

thought to be developmental stages; power, deed, word, meaning. Each has a positive and a

negative aspect to it, and can be personified in dreams. Power is seen in the form of an athlete or

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soldier; when positive it gives achievement, when negative it dominates others. Deed is seen in the

form of people like astronauts; if positive, it is seen as social reform, negatively seen as over

concern for rules and law. Word is seen in the form of an orator, a poet who can deal with words

and abstractions; negatively it appears as rigid opinions and prejudice. Meaning was seen as the

highest level of animus development, seen positively in philosophers and priests, negatively as

religious dogmatism or denial of real experience in favor of abstractions. Jolande Jacobi says that

the animus is often multiple because women are consciously monogamous, so the unconscious

compensates with a muliplicity of figures. Harding says that the undeveloped animus is more

likely to appear as a group.

When experienced in projection, the animus causes romantic attraction; the woman finds a

particular man attractive because he corresponds to the animus. Eventually it is hoped that the

woman will stop projecting the animus and see the man in his own right, distinct from the

projections; the same is true of the anima projected onto a woman. The idea is that one integrates

these figures and stops projecting them or being possessed by them. If you are not devoured by it,

anima or animus becomes a source of creative power. Heathcliff in Bronte's Wuthering Heights is

the demon lover aspect of the animus who if unconsciously projected arouses passion, but is too

undependable in marriage; the heroine Catherine rejects him and marries the safer Edgar Linton,

but regrets it.

Toni Wolff's classic paper is Structural Forms of the Feminine Psyche; this deals with women, not

the anima. She sees women's consciousness taking one or two of four major forms; all of them are

potentials in any woman, but one tends to be dominant.

The mother form nourishes, helps, teaches, gives protection, and tends development; it can be

positive or negative--the recipient may not need mothering. The hetaira (from the Gk. paramour--

illicit lover, mistress) is interested in relationships primarily; she focuses on a man's subjective

interest rather than what the world demands of him; she is interested in the dynamics of

relationship. Negatively she may undervalue his adaptation to social responsibilities. The Amazon

is independent of men; may have friendships or sex with them, but men are not the focus of her life;

she is interested in her own achievements. She is independent, contributes to the world scene,

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enjoys work and competition. She make few personal demands on men. Negatively she recognizes

no authority, wants to fight, is a Fury; she competes too much and is animus possessed. The medial

woman is a medium between the seen and the unseen worlds, between conscious and unconscious.

She can express what is in the air in the culture; she is sensitive to currents of feelings in the culture

that may not yet be very conscious. Witches, astrologers, spiritualists, clairvoyants, psychics,

psychotherapists express this dominant. Positively the medial woman verbalizes the unconscious

need for the non-rational and for spiritual concerns; negatively she gets so wrapped up in this area

that she neglects material reality. The Mother and the Hetaira are most interested in relationships;

the Amazon and the medial woman are mostly interested in objective cultural values and ideas.

(Guggenbuhl -Craig, in Marriage Dead or Alive, has his own list of 9 archetypal feminine forms,

and differentiates Wolff's list in more detail. Robert Moore has a similar structural division of the

masculine psyche--King, Lover, Magus, Warrior. (I suppose we could all make our favorite list; it

would probably reflect the psychology of the list maker as well as the psyche.)

The contents of the anima are partly determined by experience with mother, sisters, etc. and partly

by the cultural expectations of women. Jung experienced his own anima during his descent to the

unconscious after the break with Freud (MDR p. 181). He saw an old man with a white beard--

Elijah-- and a beautiful young girl, Salome, who was blind. He systematically wrote and painted

these fantasies, to try to understand them; while he was doing so, an inner voice told him he was

doing art. He recognized this as the voice of a woman pt of his; he argued with the voice, insisting

that it was not art. These were conversations with the anima, which he differentiates from the ego

by personifying her and then speaking to her as if she were objectively real, which this is what he

recommends until she is integrated.

When positive, the anima makes a man related to others, compassionate, and gentle; it also

provokes moods, reactions and impulses from the unconscious, so when a man is possessed by the

anima it causes him to be moody and sentimental rather than in touch with his true feelings. He

becomes resentful, testy, touchy, uncontained emotionally, seduced by the wrong type of woman,

and gets into meaningless relationships, --all this is said to be due to undeveloped femininity.

Such a man falls prey to the temptress or deceiver; the woman in myth who casts a spell on the

hero, such as Circe, a dangerous femme fatale, or the sirens of Ulysses. As a man becomes more

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mature, so does his image of the anima. The anima can be helpful; Ariadne leading one out of the

labyrinth, Beatrice for Dante, leading him through the underworld. Here the feminine appears as

the inspiration for the spiritual quest, the companion on the journey. Another example is Lara in

Dr. Zhivago. Projected, the anima causes passionate attraction, and if a man is unconscious of her

he can be a total fool in relationships with women. The idea is that when a man is overly logos

oriented, his anima is out of control in the unconscious.

Jung describes four major images that men project onto women (16, 369); Eve, or the earth mother

appears in dreams as a cook, harvesting grain, caring for children, sustaining life. Helen of Troy

appears as a sex object; examples are Marylyn Monroe or the Greta Garbo type of movie stars and

pin ups. In mature form, she appears as the Blessed Virgin Mary, the spiritual mother, or Sophia,

the wisdom figure, the wise old woman.

Demaris Wehr (Jung and Feminism) talks about the irony of the fact that Jung describes the anima

as so powerful in men, yet he describes women's psychology in terms of passivity and lack of

creativity, and many of his best students were women and very creative. Wehr says that female

Jungians go along with Jung's depreciation of women because their internalized social oppression is

in tune with his opinions. Jung's thinking about women simply never rose above the cultural

misogyny of his time. She points out that he reveres the power of the feminine in the psyche but is

insensitive to women’s' cultural difficulties and lack of power.

Anima and animus compensate; the anima compensates for conscious masculinity, and visa versa.

These are personified in dreams as opposite sex figures that compensate for the one-sidedness of

consciousness. Jung thought that we must face these personifications so that they cease to be

autonomous personalities within us, often acting in opposition to the conscious will.

We choose a partner according to their capacity to represent certain aspects of ones own soul. The

anima/us are experienced initially in projection, which is the cause of mutual fascination (or of

aversion), so that others may not understand a woman's attraction to a particular man who looks

awful to everyone else; they then say "what does she see in him?" What she sees is a projection of

the animus. Or a man who is very intellectual may fall hopelessly in love with a woman who is

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very emotionally undifferentiated, because his own emotionality is that way. The anima of a

scholar has a primitive romanticism; the anima of the sensitive artist is an earthbound and realistic

type of woman. Effeminate men have an amazon anima. We tend to choose partners who embody

the unknown aspects of our psyche; hence the term soul image, which is personified in dreams..

Today, we can think of the soul image as a dream figure that leads one deeply into the unconscious.

It can be personified as a figure of either sex in both men and women; it is really any unknown

figure, although classically the same sex figure in a dream is a representation of the shadow. We

can no longer say what the content of these figures "should" be, but we do have these contrasexual

figures in our psyche, which tell us what is represented as masculine or feminine in our own

psyche. This is usually learned; the content is not innate.

The anima/animus form a syzygy--a pair of connected opposites.

Another important archetype is the puer/puella, which is connected to the Divine Child. The Child

represents youthful enthusiasm and new beginnings--mythic images are the baby Jesus or Buddha.

The puer is an eternal child, a Peter Pan. He cannot settle down, and is reluctant to make

commitments, personally or occupationally. He lives a provisional life, always starting again,

always innocent, idealistic, given to flights of the imagination (Icarus--flew too close to the sun and

his wax wings melted; Phaethon tricked his father, Apollo the sun god, into letting him drive the

chariot of the sun. He could not control the horses and he fell.) The puer has no concern for the

future, and is untouched by aging. He needs excitement, and so is fascinated by dangerous sports

such as stunt flying and mountaineering; he is a daredevil, often charming and charismatic. He

may live like a perpetual adolescent, with an adolescent psychology that persists into later life. He

may only work occasionally, getting money wherever he can, often from women or by means of

illegal activity. The puer is often said to dream of flying, because he is not grounded. He is full of

enthusiasm and often spiritually oriented. The puer is thought to have relatively close contact with

the unconscious, which is true of the child in general.

Jung thought that in Nazi Germany the puer archetype was active without the balance of the wise

old man, so the people could be led around by authority figures without thinking for themselves

(Zarathustra seminars.) The cure for the puer is work; traditionally they were sent to medical

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school, because it was felt that they must face routine and get grounded. The development of the

puer is said to be due to excessive attachment to mother, accoring to von Franz, who analyzes this

archetype in terms of The Little Prince. Hillman thought that von Franz had overemphasized the

neurotic features of the archetype, and talks about the puer-senex as a polarity that are two poles of

the same archetype, of which the senex is actually the problem. The puer is in touch with spirit, but

the senex is rigid and authoritarian, while the puer's impulses are playful, elusive, and irreverent--it

is not a coincidence that Hillman thinks this. Most contemporary Jungians see the puer as a

cultural problem. Ancient Greece had a youth-oriented culture, and so do we; they had Hermes

and young athletes, and so do we; love of sports is also found in both. Presidents like Bush and

Clinton are like puers, compared to the senex Reagan. The patriarchy is based on puer psychology;

mature, initiated masculinity does not abuse people and is socially responsible and concerned about

social justice.

We have to keep the Puer/puella alive in us, to remain creative and interested in life, but it must be

balanced by the Senex as wisdom and stability. Too much Senex and you are dull and rigid; too

much Puer and you are unreliable and too flighty. So the dreams and enthusiasms of the puer must

be balanced by some senex energy to implement them carefully. The senex in its wisdom aspect is

the figure who gives good counsel, preserves values, good judgment, brings experience to the

situation; negatively it is rigid, bound to rules, and cannot change established patterns.

The trickster is a mixed archetype--mythic shape shifters, like Loki in Norse mythology, Coyote in

American Indian stories, or Hermes, who could lead you astray, play tricks on the other gods.

Court jesters used wit to get away with telling the truth.

The wise old man appears as a magician, prophet, etc. The wise old man appeared in the vision of

Elijah and then Philemon during Jung's descent into the underworld. In his younger years, Jung did

not see wise old women; he associated wisdom with masculinity, but later (Answer to Job) he

stresses Sophia. Jung thought that wisdom is often personified in women's dreams by images of

the archetypal earth mother (Zarathustra Seminars).

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One of the dangers in life is to identify with the archetype, which leads to inflation. Jung thought

that Nietzsche had identified with the wise old man archetype and had become a bit megalomanic

because of this--it makes one an overconfident intellectual. We must relate to these figures, not

identify with them.

The Self

A subject in its own right.

Complexes

Complexes are central to Jung's theory; they were discovered as he did the association experiments

between 1904-1911, when he found that spontaneous responses to stimulus words were interfered

with by something of which the person was unaware. He realized that this finding empirically

confirmed Freud's idea of the repressed unconscious., because complexes are emotionally toned,

and as they are activated the emotion interferes with the free flow of associations. The complex

consists of two parts; an archetypal core, such as the Mother or Father archetype, surrounded by a

cluster or shell of images, memories, and feelings that are the result of childhood experiences with

human beings. It is as if the archetypal core acts like a magnet, around which events cluster that

belong to that archetype. This core adds energy to the complex.

The complex can be more or less conscious and healthy or problematic; the ego itself is a conscious

complex. Complexes may be harmoniously in agreement with the larger personality, or they may

be incompatible with the conscious attitude, in which case if the tension between them is tolerable

it stimulates growth. The Self tends to balance the system towards the unity and wholeness of the

personality, but the psyche can splinter because of the impossibility of sustaining the tension

between the fragments, when their demands are too different from each other. In this case, splitting

occurs, and the complex may become autonomous, acting like a splinter psyche that is alien to the

ego. The complex may then possess the personality, living a life of its own within the person, like

an independent being inside us.

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Jung contrasts this idea with the idea of the monotheism of consciousness that denies internal

autonomous systems 13, 51; there are many centers inside the psyche, and Jung thought that the

psyche is inherently dissociable--it splits. MPD is an extreme example of this, with apparently

little connection between the fragments. Very early, Jung had worked with his cousin Helene

Prieswerk, a fiftenn year old girl who was a trance medium; she would talk to spirits as if they were

real to her, and during the trances she behaved very differently than her normal behavior. Jung

wrote that her visionary experiences and personality that she channeled represented contents of her

unconscious that were completely dissociated from her waking consciousness.

When the complex is constellated, or stimulated, it may distort perception, leading to parapraxes (8,

628, 201-2). Complexes are connected to the shadow and to the fourth function. They are

revealed in dreams, perhaps personified as a person or an image, and they appear in the

transference when we project a father or mother complex onto the therapist. They also are

responsible for symptoms such as anxiety and depression etc. Characters in fairy tales personify

complexes—eg, Cinderella. When negative, complexes act as areas of vulnerability within the

personality. They can be projected onto people, and not just in therapy; we can also project the

mother complex onto any maternal figure, or onto an institution that has a maternal role--the

Church, the Queen, or the college--the phrase alma mater means benign mother. Or we can

identify with the complex, and become just like mother or father. These kind of complexes need to

be made conscious in order to free the ego from their hegemony. Importantly, the ego itself is a

complex; it is that complex that dominates consciousness.

Jung thought that neurosis has a positive aspect; it tries to bring the unlived life to consciousness; it

is an attempt at Self-cure, that forces the person to face the unconscious, and to find meaning. The

neurosis also brings collective problems into the personal sphere, eg eating disorders. The neurotic

personality is still relatively intact, because there is some internal coherence and the unconscious

has not overwhelmed consciousness; there are a small number of nuclear complexes involved, that

can be understood, and the rest of the personality is intact. But the psychotic is flooded by the

unconscious, and there is no sense of an intact ego. The personality is shattered, and there is no

psychological continuity between the fragments--the splitting is unsystematic, and random, with no

continuity of meaning between the fragments. Jung felt that emotional turmoil produced a toxin

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that affects the brain to cause schizophrenia; this toxin stimulates complexes to make it seem as if

the complex had caused the illness. But he believes we can still understand the contents

psychologically, because the delusions and hallucinations have meaning. (See Perry.)

So far I have concentrated on the fact that the archetype produces vivid imagery, and that

complexes are emotionally toned. These ideas fit together when we consider the archetypal nature

of emotion. An important effect of the archetype is an intense emotional reaction, or an affect. The

archetype at the center of the complex not only produces psychological effects, such as thoughts,

fantasies and dreams, it also produces powerful emotions that stir up the body, producing effects

such as sweating, dry mouth, pounding heart, muscle tension, and blushing. All complexes are

emotionally charged, so that when a complex is activated emotion invariably flares up. We feel

emotion in that part of us that we call the body, while imagery, thinking, fantasy, and memory are

experienced as in the mind. These are simply perspectives; the mind-body is an undivided unity,

and the archetype is expressed in both simultaneously. It is misleading to say that mind affects

body or body affects mind, as if they were different entities. We are not dealing with two different

types of reality. Rather, we perceive mind and body as if they were different, so that our language

splits them because we need both terms to describe our experience, just as the physicist must

sometimes describe light as a particle or a wave, depending on how he perceives it. It is arbitrary

to separate mind and body. As the Zen tradition asks, "where would you like to cut the cat?"

meaning that there is no place to divide something that is a whole. If mind and body are not split,

an image in the mind and the emotion that belongs to it are experienced simultaneously.

Because mind and body are a unit, Jung's metaphor for the archetype is that of the light spectrum,

which we can divide into its colors even though light itself is just light. The visible spectrum

extends from blue to red. The blue end is analogous to what we call mind, image, and fantasy. The

red end represents the body. Emotion, or the "red" end of the spectrum, is the effect of the

archetype in the body, while images are the archetype's effect in the mind, at the "blue" end. When

a complex is negative, our imagery and dreams about it are unpleasant, and at the same time its

emotional tone is painful, so that the body feels distress. Since the effect of the archetype in the

body is felt as emotion, Jung suggested that suffering can be thought of as the experience of the

divine (as the archetype) trying to incarnate itself within us--it enters the body as emotion. The

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depth psychological approach to spirituality suggests that, when we are gripped by any intense

emotion, be it negative or positive, the numinosum is present. Therefore, emotions have a

transpersonal or archetypal significance, which William Blake realized when he said that our

emotions are an "infusion of the divine." Work on our painful complexes therefore deepens our

connection to the numinosum at their center. When we pay attention to a complex, or to the

emotions it causes, we are simultaneously attending to an emotional difficulty and a manifestation

of the archetype. The psychological problem is also a spiritual problem.

There are traditional roots for the suggestion that the experience of the numinosum is associated

with powerful feelings. Biblical figures who feel addressed by God are frequently filled with

emotions such as love or fear. The book of Samuel (1 Sam. 18:7) describes how King Saul was

envious of David because of David's success in war. One day, while David was playing his lyre,

"an evil spirit from God rushed upon Saul and he raved within his house." Saul then tried to kill

David with a spear, in an envious rage. The psychologist would say that Saul's emotional

imbalance was due to possession by the emotions produced by a destructive complex that

overwhelmed his normal personality. The "evil spirit" is the numinosum at the center of that

complex. The fact that the Bible portrays God acting out of emotions such as anger, jealousy,

indignation or compassion, points to the projection of human feelings onto a God-image. The

prophets are often possessed by powerful emotions as they express the will of God, and it was a

short step for them to assume that the divine itself has these feelings, without understanding that the

numinosum provokes them in us.

When speaking of the archetype, some psychologists tend to neglect emotion and prefer to focus on

striking dream images, because they assume that images and symbols are more fundamental

products of the psyche than is affect, which is associated with a bodily reaction. This assumption

actually fosters a type of mind-body splitting, perhaps unconsciously perpetuating a preference for

mind over body. In fact, image and affect are equally important effects of the archetype. The

eruption of an intense emotion is as much a manifestation of the archetype as is the production of a

vivid dream image. However, if, in childhood, we were not allowed to have certain feelings such

as anger, they may be split off or disavowed, in which case we may have mental imagery without

the feelings that would have been attached to it. The emotions that are not allowed to be felt live in

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a walled off area of the personality that may be very hard to access. A person who suffers this split

may discuss a very disturbing memory from childhood with hardly any feelings about it. Or, we

may become anxious or depressed but have no idea why we feel so badly, because no imagery or

thoughts come to mind that tell us why.

When a complex is activated, the affect that is associated with that complex is experienced very

intensely, sometimes to the extent that all other feelings are temporarily overwhelmed, and our

behavior is dominated by the demands of that complex. Later, as we look back at how we behaved

when we were gripped by the complex, we say "I don't know what came over me." By means of its

emotional intensity, and the behavior that this brings about, the archetype, or spirit, incarnates into

body and behavior in this world. The emotional intensity of archetypal experience gives it meaning

and makes it relevant to the person by affecting how we behave. But this emphasis on emotion

does not mean that religious experience is irrational. Feeling is just as rational as thinking; feeling

simply evaluates the world according to its own criteria. Or, as Pascal said, "the heart has its

reasons that reason knows not of." Accordingly, we give equal weight to the intellectual and the

emotional aspects of numinous experience.

The emotional power of a complex makes it difficult to resist, and makes the source of much of our

behavior unconscious. One objection to archetypal theory is that it implies that our destiny is

entirely determined at birth by our archetypal endowment, leaving us very little room for personal

choice. However, while we cannot change our archetypal endowment, we are able to change our

attitude to it. We can mature in our relationship to the archetypal dominants in our personality, and

we can express them in different ways. We may not be able to change the hand of cards we have

been dealt, but there may be several ways to play the same hand. For example, if we experienced

an absent or an abusive parent in childhood, as adults we may respond to this by becoming a

negative parent ourselves, or by abusing our children. Or, we may realize what was missing, and

decide to give to others what we would have like to have had ourselves. We may then attend to our

own children consciously and try to help younger people. The same archetypal problem could

thereby produce different outcomes. Our response to it is not fixed, but rather it varies with the

stage of life we are in and our overall emotional health. The effort to free oneself from the

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conditioning produced by our archetypal endowment, by becoming as conscious as possible, is an

important spiritual practice.

The symbol

The word comes from the Gk. symbolon, meaning to throw together. Etymologically, symbolic is

the opposite of diabolic, meaning to separate. Jung's usage of the term is distinct from Freud's

usage, since for Jung the symbol is not a sign, but rather the best possible formulation of the

unknowable or inexpressible--the symbol points beyond itself, whereas the sign is just what it says

it is. Because the symbol is irrational, it cannot be fully put into words, and it always evokes

feelings. Archetypes appear as symbols, eg images of the Mother Goddessess. The symbol

reconciles opposites, offering a third thing--eg, the cross. The symbol arises spontaneously from

the unconscious, a manifestation of the transcendent function that bridges conscious and

unconscious. The symbol is not only a visual image; music may be symbolic, and so is ritual, eg.

baptism as rebirth.

Synchronicity is the word Jung coined for meaningful coincidence. He used this word to describe

what he thought was an acausal connecting principle. Two events occur at the same time, not

because one causes the other but because they are connected by a common meaning. Eg, a dream

occurs that is related to an event that happens at a distance, both at the same time. The I Ching and

astrology are both based on this principle, which links the material world with the psyche, and inner

and outer, under the aegis of the archetype concerned. This illustrates the idea of the unus mundus,

and is found in the concept of the implicate and explicate order. This idea links matter and mind.

Individuation means becoming who we really are, the fulfillment of one’s archetypal potentials--the

telos--with which we were born. We are called to obey our own law given to us by our daimon (a

concept originated by Jung, [17, 300] not Hillman). This requires the integration of conscious and

unconscious, so that anima/us, shadow and other non-ego parts of the personality are integrated,

and projections onto others are withdrawn. The process is guided by the Self, and is never

complete. The result is different for everyone.

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Jung felt that development had two stages; in the first half of life we develop ego and adapt to outer

reality, work, relationships. In the second half, which may begin with a mid-life crisis, we ask

spiritual questions about values, meaning, and we prepare for death, which is the goal of life.

(Modern thinking suggests that individuation begins immediately.) The other stimulus to

individuation is any crisis or illness that stimulates the need for consciousness. In myth,

individuation is imaged as the night sea journey, death/rebirth themes, crucifixion, being swallowed

by the whale. Psychotherapy speeds or facilitates the process, but it happens naturally.

Individuation allows life to become meaningful.

Mythology

Jung found analogies between individual experiences in dream and fantasy and the mythologies of

various cultures. It is assumed that the two worlds are connected; the objective psyche is

responsible for both. Jung cites the example of the schizophrenic pt who saw the sun phallus, that

corresponds to the solar tube in Mithraic mythology. To use a mythic image as a way of helping to

understand a personal dream is called amplification. This allows some objectification of the image,

and externalizes it, enabling one to see what has gripped the person. This only works when the

person is emotionally moved by the myth; Jung always emphasized this subjective factor, which

discourages researchers who are looking for objective studies. Jung also felt that myth can act as a

compensatory factor in a culture, just as a dream can compensate for an individual one-sidedness.

This is found in a 1922 essay (15, p. 82) on the relationship of analytical psychology to poetry; he

says that art educates the spirit of the age by bringing up forms that the culture needs. The artist

brings up archetypal forms that compensate the one-sidedness of culture. As we see from the

misuse of the Wotan myth by the Nazis, a myth can be used well or badly; one still needs an ethical

attitude to it.

In our culture, the UFO situation (and today we would say the crop circles) illustrates the

importance of mythic compensation for a culture. Jung felt that the UFO sightings were Self

images, projections of our need for wholeness, faced with the cold war's divisiveness and the

terrifying threat of nuclear war. The mandala shape of the saucer is an image of the constellation of

the Self. Since we have lost the mythic ideas of gods, we need something to carry this archetypal

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idea of totality. Here we are in the mythologem of the epiphany, or the mythologem of celestial

beings visiting the earth. The idea of the Self is to reconcile opposites and splits. (see Letters, 2,

p. 477 & MDR p. 323).

In 1936, Jung wrote the Wotan essay. Wotan was the Germanic god of storm, frenzy and battle.

Jung thought that Nazism was a manifestation of possession by this archetype; history is moved by

these kind of forces in the collective. The archetype was constellated but not made conscious, and

when that happens we are possessed by it. He does not really say what constellates Wotan. But

these kind of gods are still present in the unconscious, and social conditions can bring them back.

When a new form of cultural adaptation is needed, if the new orientation that is needed is not

understood, the archetype that best expresses the situation steps in and causes a reaction.

Unfortunately in the 1936 article he somewhat takes the Nazis off the hook, by saying how terrible

it is to fall into the hands of the archetype; because the Germans were victims of Wotan, they were

not fully responsible agents. He felt that the Germanic soul had had Christianity grafted onto it.

The primitive Germanic religion was one of polydemonism and polytheism, and the natural

development of Germanic culture from barbarism to civilization was interrupted by the grafting on

of Christianity, so that a veneer of civilization conceals the primitive, uncivilized areas. This

primitive area should have been allowed to develop.

The need to come to terms with the constellated archetype is a task for the individual, not for the

undifferentiated masses. It is not clear whether he thought the Wotan phenomenon was a good

thing or a bad one--on the positive side, all cultures need an archetypal image of the spirit. Wotan

is a destructive storm god, but also a god of intuitive wisdom, with ecstatic and mantic qualities.

At the time, Jung did not know which way National Socialism would go, and he seemed to think

that the positive side of Wotan would prevail; Germany needed a myth, and he thought that Wotan

was a true expression and personification of the quality of the Germans. He was obviously

politically naive; he thought that National Socialism would turn out to be harmless or helpful.

Later, in a 1945 essay called "After the Catastrophe" he drops the bipolar idea of Wotan and only

talks about the storm god aspect, and sees the Germans' unconscious connection to Wotan as a

Faustian pact with the devil. He had then realized that Wotan was a malignant manifestation of the

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archetype of spirit; the positive dimension could not be integrated because of the low level of

development of the psychological and spiritual culture. He wrote that Wotan was the demonic

embodiment of evil, and it was a spiritual catastrophe for Germany that it could not be dealt with in

its positive aspect. The idea that Germany was in the grip of a myth was an interesting idea that

opens up the possibility that we can analyze political movements mythologically as well as

psychologically.

Another major Jungian work on myth is the book on the Grail legend by Emma Jung and von

Franz. They see the story as a further amplification of the image of Christ, following symbols such

as the fish, the lamb, and the cross, which are also Self symbols. They feel that the spirituality of

Christianity and that of medieval knighthood are at odds with each other, at least latently. This

conflict threatened the integrity of the medieval Christian world view. Christianity had to be

brought into harmony with the thought of the times, so new myths appeared that had to do with the

knightly quest. The resulting story was the quest for the holy grail, whose nature was never

explained fully; it suggested the chalice of the mass, and the blood of Christ, caught in a cup by

Joseph of Arimathea. The grail was a Christian symbol that suggested the knight's quest for the

sacred. But the grail is also a container that suggests the mother, and as a stone it suggested the

Self. As well, the lance, the sword, the search for initiation and the Fisher King have roots in

earlier, Celtic and Germanic pagan mythology, so that the Grail legend helped to graft Christianity

onto the partly pagan mind of Northern Europe, which had not been Christianized for long. This

helped foster a deeper emotional appreciation of the Christian story. These authors say that the

Grail legend compensates for what Christianity rejects, namely evil and matter. Matter is found in

the image of the sacred object, instead of the very spiritual image of Christ, and evil is found in the

image of the wounding of the king by an enemy.

Use of Jungian approaches to myth: One of the main ways myth can be used is to understand the

archetypal basis of everyday life, in books like Bolen's and Moore's. These are psychologized

approaches to myth; the idea is that one can use mythological figures to increase psychological

development; this has been called the new polytheism. Jung did a lot of this kind of work. In a

letter of Oct. 14, 1954, (letters, 2, p. 188) he replies to a young Greek girl who told him of a dream

in which 2 female figures in long Greek robes appeared, one of which was Demeter. He advised

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her to study and meditate on the mythology of Demeter and Persephone in order to find out what

was being said to her. The point is that the old gods and goddesses are not dead, but live on in the

psyche. The Judeo-Christian myth has permeated the culture to the extent that we do not pay

attention to other aspects of the psyche, so that the Greek myths can be used to expand

consciousness. Because they are unfamiliar, they are useful for pointing out unfamiliar areas of

the psyche and so in stimulating growth. (However, one's personal mythology may not be Greek!)

With regard to the connection between religion and myth: Jung could not live within the Christian

myth, or of any other traditional mythology. He distrusted theological formulations, preferred to

understand numinous experience directly, and preferred experience over belief. Jung was

distressed by the failure of the religious community to understand him. He said that myth gives the

ultimately unimaginable religious experience an image in which to express itself (letters, 2, p.

486), so he disliked the Bultmann attempt to separate religion from its mythic components. He felt

that demythologizing religion would mean that belief would become more important than

experience, and myth is a way that we can communicate religious experience. Instead of getting rid

of myths, or understanding them literally, he preferred to try to re-interpret them psychologically or

symbolically. These symbolic understandings are not to be considered metaphysically valid or

absolutely true; the way we understand the myth may change over time. The symbolic view of

myth is catching on in religious circles.

For Jung himself, the myth of consciousness was crucial; he felt that humanity is necessary for the

completion of creation, because we are a second creator of the world, in the sense that we give the

world its objective existence (MDR, p. 256). Human consciousness allows God to become

conscious of himself; this is his explanatory myth for the development of consciousness and the

meaning of human existence.

Psychic energy

Jung’s concept of libido was different than that of Freud. Jung did not want to confine psychic

energy to any specific area, such as sexuality; for Jung, libido is simply the energy of the life-

process. Whereas Freud thought libido is causal, determined by the past, Jung said it is purposive,

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teleological. We perceive it subjectively as conation (volition) and desire (4, 282). We cannot

define energy by reference to any one of its forms. Jung thought that psychic energy was a matter

of the gradient between different polarities; tensions arise between various aspects of the

personality that contradict each other. These differences produce differences of potential, like a

battery with two terminals. Jung is clear that we do not know what underlies libido (5, 195).

Personally, I do not find the concept of psychic energy much use, since we don’t know what it is; it

is an abstraction that expresses the dynamisms of the personality. Usually psychic energy refers to

affective states, sexuality, aggression, spirituality, motivation, creativity, or emotional investment

in something, so we may as well just call it affect, or interest, or whatever is actually going on.

When we talk about an image having energy, we usually mean it is emotionally powerful. Other

than affect, we do not know if there is a specific form of energy that is psychic. Nevertheless,

many Jungians speak as if energy could collect in the unconscious, making us depressed. A

complex is said to trap energy that can be liberated if it is made conscious. However this seems to

me to translate from physics to psyche, which may not be a legitimate metaphor. To say we are

depressed because energy is trapped in the unconscious is another way of saying we are depressed.

Typology

Jung is said to have developed his typology in an attempt to understand how Freud and Adler could

arrive at such theoretical differences, yet each theory could sometimes be useful. He believed that

their break up in 1911 was related to their inability to see that their mental makeup was different

and this produced different theories. Typology is useful in understanding relationships, including

marriage, and sometimes in psychotherapy. Sometimes psychopathology can be understood in

terms of typology—the child’s natural type may not be allowed to flower, or the parent and child

may have very different typologies so they have trouble understanding each other. The danger of

any typology is to pigeon hole people too simplistically. But understanding typology can lead to

tolerance of others, and helps us to understand individual differences.

There are two attitudes of consciousness; the extraverted attitude goes out to the world, it is

interested in outer events, people, things out there. The extravert adjusts well to the environment

and does what the environment expects of him or her; he or she uses the outer world well.

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Extraverts tend to neglect their subjective needs in favor of what is needed out there; decisions and

actions are determined by the outer world, less so by subjective factors. The inner life gives way to

external necessity; the determinants are out there. He listens to the latest music, follows the latest

fashion. Morality coincides with expectations of others.

The introverted attitude means that energy or interest flows inwards, concentrating on subjective

factors, inner responses. Rather than pay attention to the object, we attend to the subjective effects

of the object. What seems to be objective, external information is used for its subjective effects. In

its extreme form the introvert can be totally alienated from the world—a schizoid personality. The

objects elicits archetypal predispositions in the subject, and the subjective effect may be stronger

than the object itself. The introvert prefers his own thoughts to conversation with others; she

enjoys being alone. Often he is socially clumsy, either too outspoken or too polite or critical. The

introvert tends to disregard the opinions of others, distrusting them, and becomes entrenched

internally, opposing the world if necessary. They may then appear defensive, and are often seen as

eccentric or opinionated and disconnected from the real world. He may not be able to explain

himself well, since he really may not know where his opinions come from.

One of these attitudes tends to dominate our mental life or the structures of our consciousness, such

as thinking and feeling. These attitudes are not simply about behavior; one can be an extraverted

monk or an introverted businessman.

The unconscious of the extravert is primitively introverted, and hence egocentric and biased. It

consists of subjective material that is repressed by consciousness, so it feels infantile. The

unconscious of the introvert can be seized by the object that consciousness is ignoring, which then

controls consciousness—so there is a fear of public opinion, a craving for love, or financial

dependence. This happens because the subjective level is overvalued, so he relates to the object in

a primitive way and feels it to be magical. The introvert finds the extravert too superficial, even as

he admires the E’s social ability. The E finds the I odd and eccentric, unaccountable in his

behavior which seems to come from nowhere. The I tries to talk about things that are subjectively

very important but of no interest to the other person. But the E does admire the independence of

the I.

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Jung felt that Freud was extraverted—his sexual theory meant that he was oriented outwards, to the

object, or a strong relationship between subject and object. Jung thought that Adler was

introverted; the power of the subject allows him to be isolated. Adler wants to protect the ego from

the spell of the object, while Freud wants the instinct to flow to towards the other. Today many

people think that Freud was actually an IF type.

In Psychological Types, Jung traces these differences through religious and intellectual history. Eg,

in the 9th century, Radbertus proposed the doctrine of transubstantiation, in which the bread and

wine of communion become the body and blood of Christ. This doctrine emphasizes the concrete

and external; it is therefore an E view. Erigena took the I view, saying that communion was simply

a remembrance of the last supper (6, 36).

The functional types.

We have two ways of obtaining data about the world; sensation (S) gives concrete information

through the senses—something exists that I can see or hear—a fact. Intuition (N) is perception by

means of the unconscious. N produces a content that emerges full blown into consciousness for no

obvious reason. N sees possibilities rather than facts and details; N sees the future use of the data

that may not be physically present at the moment.

We then sort the data according to either thinking (T) or feeling (F). T aims at definition,

objectivity and a systematic approach. T gives meaning to what S has perceived; T tells you what

the object is, names it and links it to other things categorically. T classifies logically, step by step.

T is interested in cause and effect relationships. F tells you whether you like the object or not,

whether it is desirable; F is a value judgment, often an immediate reaction that gives value to

people, relationships, states of mind, leading to either acceptance or rejection. F is not therefore

synonymous with emotion; it means the ability to sort emotions and relate to emotions consciously,

or to discriminate affective states. Jung made the mistake of saying that F was feminine and T

masculine; this merely reflected the cultural bias of the time.

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Traditionally, colors are associated with the functions: blue with T, yellow with N, red with F,

green or brown with S.

T and F use their own standards; they organize the data differently but rationally. Rational here

does not mean logical—it means an ordered world based on a system. The non-rational, perceptual

types, S and N, live in a much more random world. T and F place what happens into a hierarchy of

principles and values; for T this is usefulness, for F it is values. For S and N, whatever happens is

just so, fortuitous, but T and F find the world ordered according to a system of values and order.

Non-rational types do not understand how the rational or judging T or F types can attribute more

significance to ideas and principles than to reality.

Jung believed that the four functions are pairs of opposites. One of each pair is well

developed—the superior function--while the opposite is undeveloped, unconscious, infantile. The

inferior function may erupt into consciousness, and is often attached to complexes or the anima or

animus. That is why this is not an ego psychology—it is a psychology of individuation, because

one ideally develops the unconscious, inferior function.

ES is about impressions of the external world and outer facts. It is reality oriented, “show me.” ES

types value what can be sensed outside. They have great discrimination, aesthetic sense, and

reactivity to the surroundings. They are interested in collective behavior, customs, traditions.

Think of British royalty. They like money, opulence, aggressive sexuality, and concrete

enjoyment. They are collectors of objects. They like what is “in.” They tend to accept things as

they are and may be content not to develop new ideas unless they are original, in which case they

rearrange the facts in new ways. They tend to reject internal ideas as morbid. Their thoughts and

feelings are the result of external influences. Their ideals are rooted more in the outer world than in

ideas and fantasies. Think of a huge French meal with many dishes.

The unconscious repressed N of the S type shows up as projections, jealous fantasies, anxiety about

possible catastrophes (hence the “need” for star wars and hyped fears of terrorism), phobias, dark

hunches about what may happen, compulsions, magical superstitions, fault finding.

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IS are minute observers of ordinary facts; they want order, things to be where they belong. They

sort, find the archetypally correct place for things. They use money and energy carefully. They are

good at the inside of the body, or close to the body—endodontists, eye surgeons. Sexuality is

private and intense. They are subjective artists—they do not paint the object as much as the effect

of the object. The IS adds her own color to the outer stimulus—the result is not an objective

perception, hence impressionism with strangely colored trees and grass. What matters is what is

aroused by the object, not the intensity of the object itself. The IS gives S a subjective

meaning—she does not stop at the S itself. This gives what looks like an arbitrary or unpredictable

quality to her reaction, or a stubborn insistence for no visible reason. He is more ruled by internal

facts than by outer facts. They tend to love nature and animals. They have a passive resistance to

the new. They may seem very passive and unrelated or aloof, unable to express themselves

because their impressions are too deep to speak. They may be poorly adjusted to outer reality

because their subjectivity is so idiosyncratic. Outer objects can take on a mythic, not fully real,

quality. Their archaic EN seeks out the dangerous, the ambiguous, the sordid possibilities.

IT works on the private meaning of ideas, or ideas that arise subjectively. A fact is taken in,

checked against an internal gold standard, an a priori sense of what is true. The outer is matched to

an inner standard, so he moves away from the object to an inner sense of the facts, or to the facts of

his own nature. He may try to find principles that explain his own behavior. He tends to want the

facts to fit his own theory, and may overvalue the validity of his own experience and ignore

others—dangerous for powerful politicians. He may be too sterile and theoretical, and can appear

cold and ruthless because he does not relate to the object at all. He may not care about getting his

ideas out into the world, may not try to impress others, and may make one feel like a nuisance if

engaged in conversation (Mr. Tuvak). He is stubborn in the pursuit of his ideas, but may not

realize their value in the world. His T tries to be scrupulously accurate. Relationally, he is taciturn,

and privately thinks people are stupid. He may have such weak feeling that he is domineering and

arrogant to others, prickly and unapproachable. Tends to be a poor teacher because he cannot

empathize with the student’s thinking. He is only interested in the content of the idea, not how to

make it accessible. If he is very identified with his ideas, he can be easily hurt if criticized, and

tends to withdraw. He may become very abstract in the search for principles (Kant?).

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ET orders the external world; he is oriented by factual, external data and ideas rather than

subjective ideas (Darwin). The T is directed outwards to external facts, with no need for

abstraction. He is interested in results, not the idea behind the results. This is the practical thinking

of the politician or business man who just wants to get things done. His action is directed by

generally accepted ideas; he may try to force people into a mold. He likes general principles and

formulas, clear ideas of right and wrong, truth and justice, rules and regulations—the public

prosecutor. His IF is so weak that he hardly knows how he feels. His relationships suffer for the

sake of the ideal idea, which is impersonal. He may become fanatical.

EN sees possibilities in the outer world, and follows them enthusiastically but may quickly loose

interest and move on before he has reaped the benefit of his ideas. He may be a dilettante,, not

developing a project deeply, better at starting projects than finishing them. His N emerges as a

spontaneous insight or new gestalt, emerging unbidden from the unconscious without any facts to

back him up (Capt. Kirk). He cannot explain where the idea came from. He has an empathic grasp

of the unconscious of other people. He feels certain of his N in the absence of facts. He does not

rely on preparation or tradition or common sense; every situation is a new one, and he can change

his mind in a flash. He approaches reality by means of the imagination. He sees things suddenly

without knowing how he got there. Circumstances are a prison; only possibilities are fascinating,

the future. His interests may change quickly. He is not always reliable because he does not like

rules and regulations. He can be a visionary, idealistic, charismatic, inspiring. He may be an

unscrupulous adventurer, a con artist or sociopath, or a successful entrepreneur or stock broker. He

would like to ignore details and focus on the big picture.

His unconscious S leads to preoccupation with quasi-reality—hypochondriasis, overeating, being

out of touch with the body. He cannot regulate energy well and becomes exhausted easily. He has

a poor sense of time and space, and has trouble with the here and now; he wants to pull the future

into the present; the excitement is tomorrow.

IN is interested in the unconscious or things that are not out there, the nature of the archetype or a

priori levels of the unconscious. He is not concerned with the outer world, only with what it has

stimulated in him, the images and fantasies that result. He is interested in the background processes

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of consciousness. He perceives meaning in the inner world spontaneously, he grasps the inner life,

the inner nature of things, the meaning of things, their essence. His convictions are sacred. He has

great determination but difficulty expressing what he wants. He needs a medium of expression; see

Rembrandt, Beethoven. He solves problems from within first, turns away from outer objects. His

sense of hope comes from inside. Spirituality is most important; he is at home in the spiritual

realm. Because of inferior S, he is unconscious of the body, clumsy physically, overwhelmed by

outer demands, not aware of the effects he is having on others. He is independent, imaginative,

deep, a dreamer, a wizard, but useless or a poor fit in the larger culture, lonely and isolated.

Whereas the EN wants to do something out there, the IN is happy just to understand without doing

anything.

EF wants harmony between people; he is aware of the interpersonal atmosphere, and is concerned

with how people feel. He can reach for affect in others and detect it. He can heal friction between

people and is warm and enthusiastic socially. He may not feel his own F and he may ignore them,

because out there is more important. His feeling tends to be subordinate to tradition and social

values, so it fits well socially. He likes fashion, philanthropy, whatever values are generally

accepted as good and conventional. The danger is that he may seem shallow. He may need

validation of his feeling from the outside, unlike the IF. His F will override T, no matter the logic

of the situation. His unconscious T is infantile, negative, primitive, monomodal, inflexible, and

may lead to or irrational, obsessive ideas. Because of his unconscious T, his opinions are

groundless and tactless—his T is not well related to the object or fully under his control.

IF is F that is determined subjectively; it may be very strong but not obvious, so the person may

look cold even if his feelings are powerful. His inner life is hidden but coherent: he can say “I love

you, but it is none of your business.” Love is too private to share. But when the feelings do come

out, they are disconcertingly intense, totally personal and unconventional. One cannot detect his

motivation; it is too private; a “still waters run deep” type. He may not be able to verbalize his

feelings at all, but has no interest in impressing others, or even to affect them. He may not respond

to the feelings of others, or he may rebuff them if their feelings seem off. It is as if for any situation

there is an inner correct feeling that has to be matched and realized, and he will ignore feelings that

do not fit properly. This may give him an air of superiority. He is often compassionate and

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benevolent. He is difficult to get to know, and tends to withdraw easily. He wants inner harmony

rather than outer harmony like the EF. He has deep convictions, private loyalties (Cordelia) that

no one knows about. Has a strong reaction to betrayal. Holds in anger. Tends to induce feelings

into others as a way of communicating. IF is mostly concerned with justice, while ET is concerned

with fairness. Beebe says the Russians are IF, the Americans ET. The unconscious primitive ET is

usually negative, defensive, leading to plots, intrigues, rivalries, power struggles.

The shadow is connected with the inferior function. The inferior function is always

undifferentiated, capable of unexpected eruptions. Eg, if a F types ideas (T) is questioned, the

effect can be intense. It is not under conscious control. The inferior function can take over for a

while, but is a source of creativity; it is a door through which the unconscious becomes

consciousness.