Showing posts with label Archetype. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Archetype. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 25, 2018

Carl Jung on “Archetype” and “Archetypal Image [Lexicon]





Archetype

Primordial, structural elements of the human psyche. (See also archetypal image and instinct.)

Archetypes are systems of readiness for action, and at the same time images and emotions. They are inherited with the brain structure-indeed they are its psychic aspect. They represent, on the one hand, a very strong instinctive conservatism, while on the other hand they are the most effective means conceivable of instinctive adaptation. They are thus, essentially, the chthonic portion of the psyche . . . that portion through which the psyche is attached to nature.["Mind and Earth," CW 10, par. 53.]

It is not . . . a question of inherited ideas but of inherited possibilities of ideas. Nor are they individual acquisitions but, in the main, common to all, as can be seen from [their] universal occurrence.["Concerning the Archetypes and the Anima Concept," CW 9i, par. 136.] Archetypes are irrepresentable in themselves but their effects are

discernible in archetypal images and motifs.

Archetypes . . . present themselves as ideas and images, like everything else that becomes a content of consciousness.["On the Nature of the Psyche," CW 8, par. 435.]

Archetypes are, by definition, factors and motifs that arrange the psychic elements into certain images, characterized as archetypal, but in such a way that they can be recognized only from the effects they produce.["A Psychological Approach to the Trinity," CW 11, par. 222, note 2.]

Jung also described archetypes as "instinctual images," the forms which the instincts assume. He illustrated this using the simile of the spectrum.

The dynamism of instinct is lodged as it were in the infra-red part of the spectrum, whereas the instinctual image lies in the ultra-violet part. . . .

The realization and assimilation of instinct never take place at the red end, i.e., by absorption into the instinctual sphere, but only through integration of the image which signifies and at the same time evokes the instinct, although in a form quite different from the one we meet on the biological level.["On the Nature of the Psyche," CW 8, par. 414.]

Archetype

Psychologically . . . the archetype as an image of instinct is a spiritual goal toward which the whole nature of man strives; it is the sea to which all rivers wend their way, the prize which the hero wrests from the fight with the dragon.[Ibid., par. 415.]

Archetypes manifest both on a personal level, through complexes, and collectively, as characteristics of whole cultures. Jung believed it was the task of each age to understand anew their content and their effects.

We can never legitimately cut loose from our archetypal foundations unless we are prepared to pay the price of a neurosis, any more than we can rid ourselves of our body and its organs without committing suicide.

If we cannot deny the archetypes or otherwise neutralize them, we are confronted, at every new stage in the differentiation of consciousness to which civilization attains, with the task of finding a new interpretation appropriate to this stage, in order to connect the life of the past that still exists in us with the life of the present, which threatens to slip away from it.["The Psychology of the Child Archetype," CW 9i, par. 267.]


Archetypal image

The form or representation of an archetype in consciousness. (See also collective unconscious.)

[The archetype is] a dynamism which makes itself felt in the numinosity and fascinating power of the archetypal image.["On the Nature of the Psyche," CW 8, par. 414.]

Archetypal images, as universal patterns or motifs which come from the collective unconscious, are the basic content of religions, mythologies, legends and fairy tales.

An archetypal content expresses itself, first and foremost, in metaphors.

If such a content should speak of the sun and identify with it the lion, the king, the hoard of gold guarded by

the dragon, or the power that makes for the life and health of man, it is neither the one thing nor the other, but the unknown third thing that finds more or less adequate expression in all these similes, yet-to the perpetual vexation of the intellect-remains unknown and not to be fitted into a formula.["The Psychology of the Child Archetype," CW 9i, par. 267]

On a personal level, archetypal motifs are patterns of thought or behavior that are common to humanity at all times and in all places.

For years I have been observing and investigating the products of the unconscious in the widest sense of the word, namely dreams, fantasies, visions, and delusions of the insane.

I have not been able to avoid recognizing certain regularities, that is, types. There are types of situations and types of figures that repeat themselves frequently and have a corresponding meaning. I therefore employ the term "motif" to designate these repetitions. Thus there are not only typical dreams but typical motifs in dreams. . . .

[These] can be arranged under a series of archetypes, the chief of them being . . .

the shadow, the wise old man, the child (including the child hero), the mother ("Primordial Mother"and "Earth Mother") as a supraordinate personality ("daemonic"because supraordinate), and her counterpart the maiden, and lastly the anima in man and the animus in woman.["The Psychological Aspects of the Kore,"ibid., par. 309.] Source: Daryl Sharp, Jung Lexicon

Thursday, December 21, 2017

Carl Jung: In the gospels themselves factual reports, legends, and myths are woven into a whole.




From a psychological standpoint this view can be translated as follows: Christ lived a concrete, personal, and unique life which, in all essential features, had at the same time an archetypal character.

This character can be recognized from the numerous connections of the biographical details with worldwide myth-motifs.

These undeniable connections are the main reason why it is so difficult for researchers into the life of Jesus to construct from the gospel reports an individual life divested of myth.

In the gospels themselves factual reports, legends, and myths are woven into a whole.

This is precisely what constitutes the meaning of the gospels, and they would immediately lose their character of wholeness if one tried to separate the individual from the archetypal with a critical scalpel

The life of Christ is no exception in that not a few of the great figures of history have realized, more or less clearly, the archetype of the hero's life with its characteristic changes of fortune.

But the ordinary man, too, unconsciously lives archetypal forms, and if these are no longer valued it is only because of the prevailing psychological ignorance.

Indeed, even the fleeting phenomena of dreams often reveal distinctly archetypal patterns.

At bottom, all psychic events are so deeply grounded in the archetype and are so much interwoven with it that in every case considerable critical effort is needed to separate the unique from the typical with any certainty

Ultimately, every individual life is at the same time the eternal life of the species.

The individual is continuously “historical” because strictly time-bound; the relation of the type to time, on the other hand, is irrelevant.

Since the life of Christ is archetypal to a high degree, it represents to just that degree the life of the archetype.

But since the archetype is the unconscious precondition of every human life, its life, when revealed, also reveals the hidden, unconscious ground-life of every individual.

That is to say, what happens in the life of Christ happens always and everywhere.

In the Christian archetype all lives of this kind are prefigured and are expressed over and over again or once and for all.

And in it, too, the question that concerns us here of God's death is anticipated in perfect form. Christ himself is the typical dying and self-transforming God ~Carl Jung, CW 11, Para 146

Wednesday, September 6, 2017

Carl Jung Dream Analysis Seminar Lecture VIII 12 March 1930




LECTURE VIII 12 March 1930

Today we shall hear the report about the different attempts that have been made to get at the composition of dreams or the melody of their motifs-the task which I suggested at the beginning of this term.

Dr. Baynes: There are seven attempts here. The general difficulty, according to the feeling of the committee, was that any attempt to find a rhythm in the motifs of the dreams was almost
impossible in such a short series, that there was not sufficient length to allow repetitions to come in regular rhythm. Also it was felt that the actual condition of the dreamer's consciousness was required to give the contrapuntal effect. That contrapuntal effect would be between the position of development of his conscious attitude and the growth and the realization of his dreams. The whole development of the dreams necessarily involves the question of realization, and the chart made by Miss Ordwayrepresents the curve of that realization process; but no one, as far as I can make out, has a really contrapuntal design.

[Here Mrs. Deady's artistic design in colour was shown.]

Dr. Jung: The idea here would be the spiral, showing the attempt of the unconscious to penetrate the conscious.

In the progress of the dreams, you really see that attempt to impress the conscious with the unconscious point of view.

The final fact would be the complete blending of the unconscious attempt with the actual quality of consciousness.

In colour that would mean the mixture or the sum of all colours, which would be pure white.

Also, by intuition, you have something here that suggests the Taoist symbol.

In the black you have the white spot, and in the white the black spot, indicating that when Yang has reached its culmination, Yin is born in it.

[Dr. Howells showed a chart which was not made out in pictorial form.]

Dr. Jung: The method used here does not speak to the eye, it speaks to the thought, but it yields a decidedly interesting result, in that you have such a comprehensive list of the archetypes occurring in the dreams.

It probably seems to you very difficult to make out the archetypal motifs or symbols, but it is not really so difficult, because the mistakes you make in discrimination are not very important.

If you give the motif a wrong name, it does not matter much, because the archetypal motifs are so exceedingly vague that there is nothing very definite about them.

Any archetype is really perfectly indescribable, something perfectly empty, but capable of assimilating a certain kind of material of tremendous variation, yet always pointing to a certain archetypal quality.

For instance, the archetype of a house, a hut, a cave, or a temple.

These are all very different, but it doesn't matter by which name you call them, because all these names or concepts are merely attributes of the underlying thing, which is really indescribable.

In this chart, you can see that, in the beginning of the sequence of dreams, a set of archetypes is shown quite different from the ones that appear later.

Those that are conspicuous until about the middle of the series more or less disappear later on; one sees a decided change.

From that, we can draw an important conclusion, namely, that the whole process of development is slowly moving into a different atmosphere.

I don't want to qualify it, but I think we are safe in the assumption that the later development of the dreams chooses a new language, as if creating a sort of superior superstructure
overlying the original primordial motifs, as if a new building were going up upon the basis of the original archetypes.

This is a working hypothesis, a point of view, and it remains to be seen in the following dreams whether it really holds good, whether it amounts to a law.

In that case we would have gained an important point of view, only we should then find a suitable method by which it could be presented to the eye.

If you could combine your faculty of abstraction with the pictorial faculty, that would make a perfect blend. I recommend that marriage.

[Mr. Henderson's chart.]

Dr. Jung: In this we see something rather remarkable.

At first things are quite fragmentary, not well characterized.

The stronger characterization takes place after the middle of the series.

So we see here the great advantage of the graphic method that speaks to the eye.

We see, for instance, that the motif of analysis actually undergone is definitely increasing in volume, and in the end there is a tremendous increase of religious feeling.

That shows again a new aspect.

[Miss Ordway's chart.]

Dr. Jung: The advantage of this method is that it would show the degree of conscious realization, and also whether the dreamer is moving towards or away from his goal.

One gets from certain dreams decidedly the impression that they are on the upward climb, while others seem to show regression, and of course it is very important in working on dreams to take into consideration the amount of conscious realization shown-not only the operation of the archetypes, but also their relation to consciousness.

I have the impression that the demonstration of their actual behaviour is better shown in the charts by Dr. Howells and Mr. Henderson.

In this one it is difficult for my imagination to see the statistical frequency of their occurrence, but on the other hand we get a better idea of their importance to consciousness which is surely a point of view which has to be kept in mind.

[Miss Hannah's pictorial diagram, in which she made unconscious pictures to represent her conceptions of the dream motifs.]

Dr. Jung: You invented these!-you did creative work on his dreams! That is, instead of thinking.

It is nothing to laugh about, there are many things that I have to do instead of thinking.

There are certain unconscious things that you can get at only in that way because thinking destroys them.

For instance, I found something fundamentally important through carving.

My hands did it, not my head.

The central idea here is the spiral, and consciousness is in the centre.

Mrs. Deady's temperament, in her spiral design, puts consciousness in the centre with rather the idea of intensification there, while Miss Hannah's is just the other way around, the consciousness is moving out of that central spot into wider and wider spirals and finally widening out to the cosmic dream of the river.

This difference has to do with types.

One gets consciousness from without and the other from within.

I am very glad that these two attempts towards the spiral have been made, because it shows that there is a temperamental inclination to produce a graphic demonstration on that basis.

I had really never thought of that, and it seems to me an idea quite worth considering, though I think it would be exceedingly difficult to show the continuous flow of dreams through that method.

My imagination is not very helpful to me there. My temperament would rather incline to see it in the way

Dr. Howells and Mr. Henderson have worked it, which would probably be the more intellectual and abstract way, while the other is more dynamic, a method chosen by people who are more impressed by the peculiar dynamism of dreams.

If I may make a suggestion, it would seem to me interesting to try to combine the methods of Dr. Howells and Mr. Henderson.

Dr. Howells' archetypal motifs are more exact, more statistical, while Mr. Henderson's general outlines are more suggestive.

If you could do that, then let Mrs. Deady try her hand at the dynamism of the whole thing, we might get at something in that way.

These attempts are worthwhile.

To myself personally, the fact that the later dreams chose new motifs is enlightening.

I foresee the possibility that one could demonstrate how the unconscious gradually develops and produces archetypes which eventually might catch the conscious.

Of course, we have not followed up material enough to see whether the unconscious eventually joins the conscious, whether the two blend, and by what kind of archetypes they finally are joined.

For the sake of completeness we should write records of all the conscious states of the dreamer during his analysis.

That is a task for the future-that somebody should make a diary of whatever occurs in his conscious, and thus we would have the two sets of material to work with.

Dr. Howells: There is a discrepancy in my report.

I could not tell in the steamroller dream whether to put the steamroller under the head of mechanism or sex, because the dreamer himself had no sex awareness in that dream.

Dr. Jung: No, but to my mind the sex mechanism comes out quite clearly in his associations.

I would record it under sex and mechanism and also the way.

One sees the motif of the way there, though it is a peculiar way.

That would make an accumulation of motifs, but several archetypal attributes are nearly always contained in one picture.

Dr. Howells: But that would be putting it from the point of view of your or my consciousness rather than the dreamer's consciousness.

Dr. Jung: You cannot possibly put it from the dreamer's consciousness.

Things may have unusual connotations, but he never mentions it, he thinks it is indifferent or he forgets it; yet it would be exceedingly important for the qualification.

In this case he does not mention that there is a sex nuance, but it will come out somehow in his associations.

So I would rather proceed in a more or less arbitrary way.

The motif of growth or increase can be demonstrated in many ways; for instance, by the symbol of the tree, which has the meaning of growth and many other connotations besides.

One finds that vagueness of concept not only in mythology but to a certain extent also in philosophy.

Schopenhauer made an interesting chart, a whole network of intersecting philosophical concepts, showing how they overlap so that no concept is ever quite by itself, all are connected.

Otherwise we would not be able to think.

It is only by those bridges which overlap that we can think; if we have to do with irreconcilable concepts which nowhere touch, it is impossible.

So that overlapping and intermingling is indispensable for the thinking process, and probably that peculiarity is in the unconscious itself.

The more we approach unconsciousness, the indistinct things become, till they are only dimly visible and everything means everything else.

We see that in primitive psychology-the most extraordinary paradoxes, like the famous story mentioned by a German explorer which I told you last term, of the Brazilian Indians who call themselves red parrots.

They say that the only difference between themselves and red parrots is that the parrots are birds and they are not; otherwise they are exactly the same.

Just as we would say we are all human beings, but some are English and some are German, showing that we have advanced far enough to discriminate between man and man, but they even fail to notice the difference between man and animal.

That coincides with other primitive ideas; for instance, that they do not place man on top in the scale of animals, but somewhere around the middle.

First the elephant, the lion, the python, the rhinoceros, etc., and then comes man, by no means on top.

We are now proceeding to the next dream, but before I read you that, I want to sum up the situation in the last one.

We have seen that it shows a hindrance to further progress.

The machine seemed to be in order and able to work, and then obviously it did not work because of a considerable hindrance, namely, the Church and what the Church implies, the traditional Christian point of view.

I emphasize this point once more because in a later dream we shall come across this motif again.

As I told you, when I analysed this dream with the patient I did not tell him half that I have told you.

There must be a foundation upon which to place certain ideas; one simply cannot begin at once to pour them out into the head of the poor victim.

There are so many fallacies, cherished illusions, and sensitivities there that it is better to stick to the simple and obvious.

So when the obstacle of the Church comes up, it means that the solution the unconscious is trying to find is hurting him on account of the traditional Christian ideas.

He is way back in his childhood, and it seems as if his religious point of view had not developed since.

I pointed out that you would never suspect that from his conscious presence; in his intellect he is way ahead, but in his feeling and the greater part of his shadow personality, he is
still under the sway of the old prejudices.

Temperamentally he is still a Christian of the particular creed in which he was brought up.

The Jewish type of man who upsets the communal singing is the voice of all that material which has been stored up in the unconscious, and which would have formed a continuous development of his religious feeling, if he had made any progress in that respect since his childhood.

You see, the religious spirit is not one and the same thing always.

It changes a great deal, and therefore suppositions concerning it change a great deal.

One hears the most extraordinary differences in the definitions of religion or the religious spirit.

There is a Church standpoint and there is a very liberal standpoint-two absolutely different points of view, almost irreconcilable, and here we have the contrast between the two.

While he is still clinging conservatively to the traditional Church in his feeling life-I am not speaking of the intellectual-the progress in his feeling that would correspond to the progress of his mind is simply stored up, and that unconscious accumulation finally forms a personified something, a person.

The peculiar fact in our unconscious psychology is that any accumulation of energy has always a personal character; it is always a thing to which one could give a personal name.

One sees that in insanity, where unconscious thoughts or feelings become audible or visible; they become definite people.

A lunatic recognizes the different voices, yet they are nothing but thoughts.

The idea of inspiration and even certain ghost theories are based upon that. In this case, the progressive feeling corresponding to the intellectual development appears in the form of a
person of Jewish type.

The dreamer is not in reality anti-Semitic, but he cannot help having that anti-Semitic feeling which expresses the negative aspect of the figure.

But on the other side there is the prophetic element in the Jewish character, which is indicated in his associations by his reference to Sephardi in Meyrink's book, who leads his people to a land of safety.

There is the prophetic and guiding quality.

Now, the intruder is for the time being a doubtful figure.

Not in its purpose-it is definitely the new thing, but no matter how good, useful, or wonderful the new thing may be, it might have a bad effect if it hits upon an immature condition.

It is always a question in psychology whether one strikes the right word at the right moment. Saying the right thing at the wrong moment is no good.

Always the two must come together.

We assume that the right word cannot do harm, that the truth is useful at any moment, but that is not so; it may be perfect poison and nowhere does that become so clear as in analysis.

Such an intruder, no matter how true it is, no matter how valuable if the patient could realize it, is nevertheless perhaps inopportune and therefore nonsense.

There have been very great people who indubitably told us the truth but it was not the right moment and they had to be wiped out.

The right moment would have been seven hundred years later, perhaps.

The great question is, is it the right moment or not?

Mr. Holdsworth: Do you think that if Christ had lived today and preached what he did, that he would have been crucified?

Dr. Jung: No, he would have been sent to the lunatic asylum or to prison.

But it would not be the right word now.

He was crucified, but nevertheless he said the right word at the right time; that is why it worked to such an extraordinary extent.

Somehow it went home, it was apropos.

In our dreamer's case it would not be apropos to tell him all that we have concluded here about the nature of that voice. It would not hit the right condition.

Now, after our exploration into the field of religion, we will return to the actual human reality of our case. "Tout est bien dit, mais il faut cultiver notre jardin."

Dream [24]

He was doing gymnastic exercises in a sort of child's bed with high sides-a crib--and beside it was his wife on a mattress on the floor, watching him do his stunts.

He was doing these exercises in such a wild way that the whole crib broke down, leaving one of its high sides in his hands.

At that same moment he saw a mouse jumping away from under the bed.

He tried to kill it, beating down on it with the iron wall in his hands, but it ran away through the open door into the next room where usually their boys were sleeping, though he did not know whether they were actually there then.

He took the matter rather lightly, thinking there was no importance in it and that they could let that mouse go.

But when he told his wife about it, she instantly got terribly excited and thought it might injure the boys.

She took a stick and went into the next room in order to murder that little mouse.

Associations: Concerning the exercises, he says that usually in the morning he does gymnastic exercises, thinking that it stimulates the circulation of the blood and also improves his mood. "At least, as far as my experience reaches," he adds.

About the child's bed, he says that his children all slept in such white iron cribs with movable walls which one could remove at will.

Concerning the fact that his wife was beside him but lying on the floor on a mattress, he says that fact seemed to mean that he was doing his exercises beside her bed, and he compared her bed to a child's bed. This is entirely wrong; he is in the child's bed, but he mixes himself up with her, not seeing it.

About the mouse he says that a mouse always has the effect of producing a state of fear in women. He thinks that there is a sexual analogy there, because when a mouse is about, a woman always jumps up and tucks her skirt around her legs so that the mouse cannot run up. Once in a hotel I suddenly heard the most terrible scream so that I thought there was surely a murder. Then I saw a woman jumping and screaming at the top of her voice for help, and thought it must be a bad case of epilepsy; but it was a mouse. The dreamer continues that he thinks that this mouse might symbolize the fear his wife has of sexuality, or her resistance to it.

Then he returns again to his gymnastic exercises and says that they might be his intellectual activities which his wife is watching, "and I think," he says, "that if I practice such mental exercises, it might drive away her fear of sexuality." A very complicated thought! He is now mixing up gymnastic exercises with chasing that mouse. He says further that the fact of the mouse running into the next room would indicate that the fear of sexuality is transferred to their boys, and it might injure them, so he thinks it is quite necessary to go after it with a stick to kill it.

Now consider the amazing difference between all that material we have discussed and the actual situation of the dreamer.

He is not even in church, but in a child's crib, and he is hedged in by high walls; those cribs have high sides in order to prevent children from falling out and hurting themselves.

That means that he is still at an age. when he has to be fenced in in and protected.

How would such a condition show in the conscious?

Dr. Baynes: He makes his wife the custodian of his instincts.

Dr. Jung: Yes, he arms his wife with a stick, but that is very metaphorical; things are not so drastic as that.

Dr. Schlegel: On account of his mother complex, he may have a childish attitude towards his wife.

Dr. Jung: How would that show in his mental behaviour?

Answer: In extreme conventionality in everything.

Dr. Jung: Exactly. No pep concerning moral problems, they are kept strictly in the crib as if he were threatened by a mortal danger if he should fall out.

He has an abject fear of being incorrect or unconventional in trying to get out of that safe place.

Now this is of course a very sad demonstration, and it makes you understand why I did not go into further discussion of the dream before.

It would have been like talking to a baby in the crib, so how can one expect him to realize the great religious problems of the present time?

With his mind, yes, but then he would have gone off in a balloon ten thousand feet above sea level, and after that he would come down into his crib and things would be as they were before with one exception, we must admit one thing.

He is doing gymnastics in the crib, and obviously he means it as something mental or intellectual, What would that be?

Mrs. Crowley: His analysis.

Dr. Jung: Yes, but it is not only analysis.

He was interested in theosophy and various mental pursuits of a more or less occult nature, and also he has that hygienic streak, eating the manna and thinking the right thoughts, and so, most hygienic of all, analysis.

So he takes exercises in the morning beginning with the bath, probably singing in his tub--that is exceedingly healthy-and then he would drink a non-alcoholic coffee and eat a particular kind of bread. And the same with his mind.

These are exercises which are intended to be exceedingly healthy, but they are too violent and the bed breaks apart, which is extremely awkward.

Of course the breaking up of the childish crib would not be so bad if something else did not happen, the mouse; and the mouse does not bother him, it bothers her.

That is the trouble.

Now, what do you assume these violent exercises express?

Mr. Holdsworth: A very great anxiety to get on terms with his soul.

Dr. Jung: Yes, I should say it was that.

He started in on analysis in the usual hesitating way, with many objections of an intellectual and moral nature, but he became quite serious.

When he had once grasped the idea he fully applied it.

So he obviously did his morning exercises with great force of belief, and when one goes into analysis thoroughly, the crib goes to pieces after a while and one cannot hinder the mouse from escaping.

The cat is out of the bag-a most lamentable fact! Obviously he thinks the mouse is connected with his wife.

He supposes that it is the cause of fear to her and also implies that it is the reason of his wife's resistance to sexuality.

But we should speak first of the fact that his wife is watching him while lying on a mattress on the floor.

What is the reason of that peculiar position?

Mrs. Baynes: She is waiting for him to grow up.

Dr. Jung: She seems to be in the form of a mother, but why is she on a mattress on the floor?

Mrs. Sigg: At least he would not run the risk of falling from the bed to the floor.

Dr. Jung: That is a point of view. That is what is done with lunatics.

Mrs. Baynes: I think he did it because he was in a crib, so she had to be in a worse position-lying on the floor. He wanted to reduce her power.

Dr. Deady: He could not carry on in his attitude if she were in the same bed with him-they would have to be grown up.

Dr. Jung: It is said that there is room in the smallest hut for two loving souls, but not in a child's bed!

Well, I think the most impressive point about their respective positions is that he is higher up and looking down, as Mrs. Baynes points out.

He is obviously admiring himself in his intellectual stunts, for most people who do physical gymnastics are a bit narcissistic, in love with their own bodies.

It is a sort of autoerotic business, and he has that quality a little too, he would admire his wonderful spiritual process.

That bit of vanity is not very disturbing.

It does not hinder his seriousness of purpose; it is just a little human touch.

One must allow for that, it is altogether too human. So his mental superiority is probably expressed in his looking down on his wife on that mattress.

It is not a very comfortable position for her, the mattress on the floor must be hard so the dream insinuates that she is rather uncomfortable; moreover she is in the position of the mother and yet looked down upon.

We must take note of these possibilities, because here comes an intricate bit of psychology-the next thing is the escape of the mouse.

Well, we have to detach ourselves here for a moment on account of the confusing associations which he produces.

Obviously he is trying to clarify the situation, but he gets hopelessly muddled, and the confusion starts already with the fact that he compares his wife's bed to a child's bed.

His bed is a child's bed, not hers, he can't make out which is which.

There must be a peculiar entanglement, participation mystique, and for the time being he cannot make out what his part is.

That really is the case in participation mystique, one doesn't know whether it is oneself or one's partner.

It is as if I called my brother by my name, unable to make a difference between him and myself.

Or as if a Catholic accustomed to a Father Confessor called me Father Jung, making me identical with the priest.

Patients call me Dr. So-and-So after explaining to me what a terrible man that doctor is!

So our patient is very obviously muddled, and therefore we cannot take his associative material at once, but must look at the mouse from an abstract point of view and ask what the mouse is in general.

Mr. Holdsworth: It is the woman's sexuality, I suppose.

Dr. Jung: When we are interpreting with no regard to the patient's associations, we must be careful to be as naive as possible, to have no prejudices in connection with the associations.

Take the thing literally, concretely.

How would you describe a mouse to somebody who had never seen one?

It is a tiny grey animal, hardly seen in the daytime, which disturbs one at night with disagreeable little noises; they eat all kinds of things and one must always be careful that they don't get at the good things in the kitchen.

They live in houses, parasites, and one tries to catch them by means of traps and cats because they are generally a nuisance in any house.

Then the mouse appears often in folklore and typically in fairy stories. Now what would it represent psychologically?

Dr. Baynes: Repressed instinct.

Dr. Jung: Yes, but what instinct?-because any animal, taken psychologically, represents instinct in man. In as much as we are automatic and instinctive we are nothing but animals, because our behaviour is then in no way different from that of an animal.

We can say it is an instinct whenever an animal occurs in a dream, but, mind you, it is always a very particular instinct, by no means the instinct.

A lion or a huge snake would mean something quite different.

Mrs. Crowley: Fear? A mouse is terribly afraid.

Dr. Jung: Yes, it is really a terrified animal, but they are quite fresh too.

Dr. Deady: They are always tolerated. The household never makes any attempt to eliminate them really.

Dr. Jung: That is a perfectly healthy point of view. ~Carl Jung, Dream Analysis Seminar, Pages 524-535

Wednesday, July 5, 2017

Carl Jung: Christ as an Archetype of the Self




The oldest known icon of Christ Pantocrator – Saint Catherine’s Monastery. The two different facial expressions on either side emphasize Christ’s dual nature as both divine and human.

226 The Trinity and its inner life process appear as a closed circle, a self-contained divine drama in which man plays, most, a passive part. It seizes on him and, for a period of several centuries, forced him to occupy his mind passionately with all sorts of queer problems which today seem incredibly abstruse, if not downright absurd.

It is, in the first place, difficult to see what the Trinity could possibly mean for us, either practically, morally, or symbolically. Even theologians often feel that speculation on this subject is a more or less otiose juggling with ideas, and there are not a few who could get along quite comfortably without the divinity of Christ, and for whom the role of the Holy Ghost, both inside and outside the Trinity, is an embarrassment of the first order. Writing of the Athanasian Creed,

A PSYCHOLOGICAL APPROACH TO THE TRINITY

to the Symbolum Quicuinque has abjured the laws of human thought.” Naturally, the only person who can talk like that is one who is no longer impressed by the revelation of holiness and has fallen back on his own mental activity. This, so far as the revealed archetype is concerned, is an inevitably retrograde step: the liberalistic humanization of Christ goes back to the rival doctrine of homoiousia and to Arianism, while modern anti-trinitarianism has a conception of God that is more Old Testament or Islamic in character than Christian.

227 Obviously, anyone who approaches this problem with rationalistic and intellectualistic assumptions, like D. F. Strauss, is bound to find the patristic discussions and arguments completely nonsensical. But that anyone, and especially a theologian, should fall back on such manifestly incommensurable criteria as reason, logic, and the like, shows that, despite all the mental exertions of the Councils and of scholastic theology, they failed to bequeath to posterity an intellectual understanding of the dogma that would lend the slightest support to belief in it.

There remained only submission to faith and renunciation of one’s own desire to understand. Faith, as we know from experience, often comes off second best and has to give in to criticism which may not be at all qualified to deal with the object of faith. Criticism of this kind always puts on an air of great enlightenment that is to say, it spreads round itself that thick darkness which the Word once tried to penetrate with its light: “And the light shineth in the darkness, and the darkness comprehended it not.”

228 Naturally, it never occurs to these critics that their way of approach is incommensurable with their object. They think they have to do with rational facts, whereas it entirely escapes them that it is and always has been primarily a question of irrational psychic phenomena. That this is so can be seen plainly enough from the unhistorical character of the gospels, whose only concern was to represent the miraculous figure of Christ as graphically and impressively as possible. Further evidence of this is supplied by the earliest literary witness, Paul, who was closer to the events in question than the apostles. It is frankly disappointing to see how Paul hardly ever allows the real Jesus
of Nazareth to get a word in. Even at this early date (and not only in John) he is completely overlaid, or rather smothered, by metaphysical conceptions: he is the ruler over all daemonic forces, the cosmic saviour, the mediating God-man.

The whole pre-Christian and Gnostic theology of the Near East (some of whose roots go still further back) wraps itself about him and turns him before our eyes into a dogmatic figure who has no more need of historicity. At a very early stage, therefore, the real Christ vanished behind the emotions and projections that swarmed about him from far and near; immediately and almost without trace he was absorbed into the surrounding religious systems and moulded into their archetypal exponent.

He became the collective figure whom the unconscious of his contemporaries expected to appear, and for this reason it is pointless to ask who he “really” was. Were he human and nothing else, and in this sense historically true, he would probably be no more enlightening a figure than, say, Pythagoras, or Socrates, or Apollonius of Tyana.

He opened men’s eyes to revelation precisely because he was, from everlasting, God, and therefore unhistorical; and he functioned as such only by virtue of the consensus of unconscious expectation. If nobody had remarked that there was something special about the wonder-working Rabbi from Galilee, the darkness would never have noticed that a light was shining. Whether he lit the light with his own strength, or whether he was the victim of the universal longing for light and broke down under it, are questions which, for lack of reliable information, only faith can decide. At any rate the documentary reports relating to the general projection and assimilation of the Christ-figure are unequivocal.

There is plenty of evidence for the co-operation of the collective unconscious in view of the abundance of parallels from the history of religion. In these circumstances we must ask ourselves what it was in man that was stirred by the Christian message, and what was the answer he gave.

229 If we are to answer this psychological question, we must first of all examine the Christ-symbolism contained in the New Testament, together with the patristic allegories and medieval iconography, and compare this material with the archetypal content of the unconscious psyche in order to find out what archetypes have been constellated. The most important of the symbolical statements about Christ are those which reveal the attributes of the hero’s life: improbable origin, divine father, hazardous birth, rescue in the nick of time, precocious development, conquest of the mother and of death, miraculous deeds, a tragic, early end, symbolically significant manner of death, postmortem effects (reappearances, signs and marvels, etc.).

As the Logos, Son of the Father, Rex gloriae, Judex mundi, Redeemer, and Saviour, Christ is himself God, an all-embracing totality, which, like the definition of Godhead, is expressed iconographically by the circle or mandala.6 Here I would mention only the traditional representation of the Rex gloriae in a mandala, accompanied by a quaternity composed of the four symbols of the evangelists (including the four seasons, four winds, four rivers, and so on). Another symbolism of the same kind is the choir of saints, angels, and elders grouped round Christ (or God) in the centre. Here Christ symbolizes the integration of the kings and prophets of the Old Testament.

As a shepherd he is the leader and centre of the flock. He is the vine, and those that hang on him are the branches. His body is bread to be eaten,and his blood wine to be drunk; he is also the mystical body formed by the congregation. In his human manifestation he is the hero and God-man, born without sin, more complete and more perfect than the natural man, who is to him what a child is to an adult, or an animal (sheep) to a human being.

These mythological statements, coming from within the Christian sphere as well as from outside it, adumbrate an archetype that expresses itself in essentially the same symbolism and also occurs in individual dreams or in fantasy-like projections upon living people (transference phenomena, hero-worship, etc.). The content of all such symbolic products is the idea of an overpowering, all-embracing, complete or perfect being, represented either by a man of heroic proportions, or by an animal with magical attributes, or by a magical vessel or some other geometrically, by a mandala. This archetypal idea is a reflection of the individual’s wholeness, i.e., of the self, which is present
in him as an unconscious image. The conscious mind can form absolutely no conception of this totality, because it includes not only the conscious but also the unconscious psyche, which is, as such, inconceivable and irrepresentable.

231 It was this archetype of the self in the soul of every man that responded to the Christian message, with the result that the concrete Rabbi Jesus was rapidly assimilated by the constellated archetype. In this way Christ realized the idea of the self. But as one can never distinguish empirically between a symbol of the self and a God-image, the two ideas, however much we try to differentiate them, always appear blended together, so that the self appears synonymous with the inner Christ of the Johannine and Pauline writings, and Christ with God (“of one
substance with the Father”), just as the atman appears as the individualized self and at the same time as the animating principle of the cosmos, and Tao as a condition of mind and at the same time as the correct behaviour of cosmic events. Psychologically speaking, the domain of “gods” begins where consciousness leaves off, for at that point man is already at the mercy of the natural order, whether he thrive or perish. To the symbols of wholeness that come to him from there he attaches names which vary according to time and place.

232 The self is defined psychologically as the psychic totality of the individual. Anything that a man postulates as being a greater totality than himself can become a symbol of the self. For this reason the symbol of the self is not always as total as the definition would require. Even the Christ-figure is not a totality, for it lacks the nocturnal side of the psyche’s nature, the darkness of the spirit, and is also without sin. Without the integration of evil there is no totality, nor can evil be “added to the mixture by force.” One could compare Christ as a symbol to the mean of the first mixture: he would then be the middle term of a triad, in which the One and Indivisible is
represented by the Father, and the Divisible by the Holy Ghost, who, as we know, can divide himself into tongues of fire. But this triad, according to the Timaeus, is not yet a reality. Consequently a second mixture is needed.
233 The goal of psychological, as of biological, development is self-realization, or individuation. But since man knows himself only as an ego, and the self, as a totality, is indescribable and indistinguishable from a God-image, self-realization to put it in religious or metaphysical terms amounts to God’s incarnation. That is already expressed in the fact that Christ is the son of God. And because individuation is an heroic and often tragic task, the most difficult of all, it involves suffering, a passion of the ego: the ordinary, empirical man we once were is burdened
with the fate of losing himself in a greater dimension and being robbed of his fancied freedom of will. He suffers, so to speak, from the violence done to him by the self. The analogous passion of Christ signifies God’s suffering on account of the injustice of the world and the darkness of man. The human and the divine suffering set up a relationship of complementarity with compensating effects. Through the Christ-symbol, man can get to know the real meaning of his suffering: he is on the way towards realizing his wholeness. As a result of the integration of
conscious and unconscious, his ego enters the “divine” realm, where it participates in “God’s suffering.” The cause of the suffering is in both cases the same, namely “incarnation,” which on the human level appears as “individuation.” The divine hero born of man is already threatened with murder; he has nowhere to lay his head, and his death is a gruesome tragedy. The self is no mere concept or logical postulate; it is a psychic reality, only part of it conscious, while for the rest it embraces the life of the unconscious and is therefore inconceivable except in the
form of symbols. The drama of the archetypal life of Christ describes in symbolic images the events in the conscious life as well as in the life that transcends consciousness of a man who has been transformed by his higher destiny. ~Carl Jung; Psychology and Religion

Tuesday, March 14, 2017

Carl Jung on the Archetype of the Self




To Bernhard Milt

Dear Colleague, 13 April 1946

Very tardily I am at last getting down to answering your kind letter of 28 November 45.

By way of excuse I can only plead that I have not yet regained my former working capacity. I beg you, therefore, to pardon my negligence.
You raise in your letter the question of the archetype of the self.

As you rightly suppose, this archetype is not so much a working hypothesis as something that is found.

There are, as I have shown for instance in Psychology and Alchemy with the help of empirical material, typical symbols in dreams which, faute de mieux, I have called symbols of wholeness or of the self.

I have also gone into the reasons for this nomenclature.

I have often asked myself whether the term "archetype" (primordial image) is a happy one. In general I find it most disadvantageous to let neologisms run riot in any science.
The science then becomes too specialized in an unjustifiable way and loses contact with the world.

I therefore prefer to use terms that are also current in other fields, at the risk of provoking occasional misunderstandings.

For instance, Jakob Burckhardt applied the term "primordial image" to Faust and with every conceivable psychological justification.

Equally, I believe, the word "archetype" is thoroughly characteristic of the structural forms that underlie consciousness as the crystal lattice underlies the crystallization process.

I must leave it to the philosopher to hypostatize the archetype as the Platonic eidos. He wouldn’t be so far from the truth anyway.
The expression is much older than Augustine.

It is found with a philosophical stamp as far back as the Corpus Hermeticum, where God is called the "archetypal light."

In Augustine, who was still a Platonist, the archetype has absolutely the connotation of a primordial image, and so far as it is meant Platonically it does not agree at all badly with the psychological version.

The old Platonic term differs from the psychological one only in that it was hypostatized, whereas our "hypostatization" is simply an empirical statement of fact without any metaphysical colouring.

Frischknecht is wrangling with me badly.

I get a letter from him from time to time. Recently I had to spell it out to him that the theologian looks at the world through the good Lord’s eyes, but the scientist only through human eyes.

In his essay on Brother Klaus he has not even noticed that he has tacitly imputed to me Freud’s personalistic standpoint, without remarking that this is just what I have been criticizing Freud for these last 30 years.

Basically I have every sympathy with the difficulties of the theologian.

It is no small matter to have to admit that in the end all dogmatic assertions are human statements-with, as I always emphasize, quite definite psychic experiences underlying them.

Considering the extraordinary difficulty of epistemological self-limitation it is really not surprising that any number of misunderstandings come about.

I am quite sure that if I had chosen any other term for the archetype, misunderstandings of another colour would have cropped up, but they would have cropped up anyhow.

With collegial regards,

Yours sincerely,

C.G. Jung Carl Jung, Letters Volume 1, Pages 418-419