ORIGIN STORIES
MYTHS AND
THEORIES
 
METAFORMIC
THEORY
 
GODDESSES OF
OLD EUROPE
 
AFRICAN
ORIGINS
 
WOMEN
-CENTERED

MYTHOLOGY
 
CRITIQUE
  

 

AN INTERVIEW WITH CARLA J. EMMATONI

Lethea Erz

Copyright Lethea Erz, 1996, all rights reserved.

With playful seriousness, Lethea Erz reconsiders some elements of C.G. Jung's theories, including archetypes, anima and animus, and the principles of "masculine" and "feminine." She discusses the concept of individuation-within-relationship and proposes a partnership model of consciousness. Lethea invented Carla Emmatoni (a fictional character) as a literary device to bring forward a feminist critique of Jung.This article first appeared in the Spring/Summer 97 issue of Metis, A Feminist Journal of Transformative Wisdom. Click on the footnote numbers to display the notes.

A Partnership Perspective Exclusive Interview
with one of the cutting-edge thinkers of our time

Reporter: Anne Drogyne
 

Anne: I still can hardly believe it! A daughter of Carl Jung that the world never knew about before! Tell me, why did you choose this time to "come out of the closet," so to speak?

Carla: Well, the world didn't seem quite ready for me, before now. Just like Jung — I never could get into the habit of calling him "Papa" — never quite seemed ready to hear that I was actually his child. Anyway... it always seemed easier for me to go about my work if I remained anonymous. But now that Jungian psychology is getting a lot of press, I thought it was time to step forward. There are some serious problems with Jung's theories, which my work is intended to correct. So I thought that if our connection were known, people might pay more attention to my theories, which are rather new and quite shocking to traditional Jungians.

Anne: There are so many things I want to ask you. But if I may start with a bit of personal history...

Carla: Of course. Ask me anything. If I'm conscious of the answer, I'll gladly tell you. That's a trait I learned from my father.

Anne: Well, I'm sure our readers are curious about the circumstances of your birth and upbringing; for example, how was it possible that your birth and existence could have been concealed from your own father, not to mention from the rest of the world?

Carla: It wasn't as hard as you might think. Jung was not exactly an involved family man.1 His family, much of the time, was more of an abstract idea than a living reality for him.2 One of my sisters wondered whether he would even remember her name if our mother did not quickly prompt him.3 Emma was pregnant a lot of the time, and Jung wasn't the type to keep count of the kids who showed up at the dinner table. He was basically an absent-minded professor. He probably thought I belonged to the Italian family that lived down the lane.

Anne: Why... ? Oh, you're referring to your last name. Could you explain that?

Carla: I was basically raised by two mothers: Emma Jung and Toni Wolff, Jung's long-time lover. In fact, they never told me which one actually gave birth to me, because they wanted my "mother complex" to be a perfect integration of the "mother" and the "eros-winged muse" types — a combination Jung obviously didn't believe was possible in one woman.4 I always figured it was probably Emma, just because Jung would have been less likely to notice. But it really could have been either one: Emma was seven years younger than Jung 5 and Toni was 13 years younger. And when he traveled he usually took one or the other,6 so he didn't necessarily know what went on at home while he was gone.

Anne: Aren't you a lot younger than your siblings?

Carla: Quite a bit. That's another thing that points to Toni being my biological mother. I was born in 1928, when Jung was getting heavily into alchemy.7 Emma would have been getting a bit old for childbearing by that time.

Anne: I understand you were educated in America.

Carla: Yes. Many of Jung's analysands were wealthy American women, so it wasn't hard to find sponsors for me. My mothers took Jung's theories very seriously, and wanted me to have the best possible chance to individuate in an atmosphere that was less stifling to women than European culture at that time. Jung recognized the insufferable position of the American woman, psychologically overelevated and socially disenfranchised,8 but even so, he saw potential for the development of a healthy balance of feminine and masculine there. He noted very early the "feminization" of the American male and the "masculinization of the American woman,9 so my mothers felt that I would have a good chance to develop a real balance of feminine and masculine. They were more correct than they knew — since I turned out bisexual, I've had the rare opportunity to experience both animus and anima firsthand, which I'll tell you more about when I describe my work. Furthermore, as a result of his visits to both Africa and America before I was born, Jung was impressed by the influence of both Blacks and Native Americans on the American psyche.10 He especially liked the Pueblo Indians, whose belief in the sun as god 11 fit with his secret Mithraism.12 Consequently, my education included both blues lessons and shamanic training, which turns out to be very useful for a New Age Crone, don't you agree?

Anne: Absolutely. Is it true that Jung predicted the advent of a radical American women's movement long before it became a social reality? 13

Carla: Oh, yes. But I think he'd have been completely shocked if he'd known that one of his own daughters would be a leader of that movement in the late 1990's.

Anne: Let's talk about your work. You describe yourself as both a radical feminist theorist and a psychoanalytical philosopher...

Carla: Well, I find categories and labels and typologies terribly limiting, but those describe some of the things I do.

Anne: Weren't you trained as a Jungian analyst, originally?

Carla: I certainly was! With the three parents I had, do you think I could have done anything else? But it was actually very useful training, because it allowed me to discover many valuable ideas in Jung's psychology, as well as to understand the later feminist critique, which I in fact contributed to. Like Freud's, Jung's work — flawed though it is — was a necessary foundation for the more radical ideas which I and my sister scholars are still in the process of developing.

Anne: So you think that Jungian psychology does have some value in today's world?

Carla: Absolutely! If it didn't, it wouldn't be so popular, even though mainstream academics are still terrified of it, for the most part.14 I believe that both feminism and Jungian psychology contribute significantly to an understanding of the human situation. Jungian psychology is a meaning-giving psychology. It does not reduce the human condition to pathology. In fact, it has the happy tendency to see symptoms as symbolic of the psyche's effort to redress an imbalance, to right an unconsciously felt wrong. Jung's view of the contemporary world situation offers the most complete psychological/spiritual explanation of it I know. His advocacy of the withdrawing of projections (no longer seeing in others what are really our own characteristics) as a prerequisite for getting along — whether it be between nations or between individuals — seems to me to contain a wisdom crucial to world, and to individual, understanding.15

Anne: Tell me about the feminist critique of Jung's psychology.

Carla: Do you have a couple of weeks? (laughing) No, seriously... I'll try to summarize the main points for your readers, because it's vitally important that people learn to sort out Jung's useful ideas from those which reinforce stereotypes and ways of thinking that are actually damaging to women. This is crucial, because Jung's worldview is as much religion as psychology, and most western religious beliefs — with the exception of the re-emerging Goddess and pagan spiritualities — tend to reinforce the idea that women are inferior and should be subordinate to men.

Anne: Jungian psychology... a religion?

Carla: Oh, yes. In a letter to Freud written Feb. 11, 1910, Jung wrote: "Religion can only be replaced by religion. ... What sort of new myth does it [psychoanalysis] hand on for us to live by? ... 2000 years of Christianity can only be replaced by something equivalent..." 16 Freud wasn't interested in pursuing this line of thought, but Jung was very clear that he connected psychology and religion. He went on to write, in the same letter, that it would take time "to revivify among intellectuals a feeling for symbol and myth, ever so gently to transform Christ back into the soothsaying god of the vine, which he was, and in that way absorb those ecstatic instinctual forces of Christianity for the one purpose of making the cult and the sacred myth what they once were — a drunken feast of joy where man regained the ethos and holiness of an animal." 17

So, you see, Jung saw very clearly the religious nature of myths and symbols, which were the foundation of his analytic method. And the problem with this is that things which are seen as religious are also seen as natural — the way things are and ought to be. So if a religion's myths and symbols are interpreted in a way which reinforces gender stereotypes — which has been the case in western religious mythology ever since Genesis gave Eve and the serpent a bad rap — they tend to be extraordinarily hard to change. This is especially true since religious symbols and myths, which really represent beliefs, get internalized, and in the case of women, this means a great deal of internalized oppression.

Anne: What do you mean by "internalized oppression"?

Carla: "Internalized oppression" refers to the process by which women internalize patriarchal 18 society's definition of themselves. This definition is oppressive, negative and inferior in many ways, although it is also often compensatory and romantically "exalted." Women learn to oppress themselves inwardly with patriarchy's alienating assessment of them.19

Anne: I'm beginning to see why a feminist analysis of Jung's theories is so important. In order to work well with women who have grown up in patriarchy, therapists, including Jungian analysts, need to be supremely conscious of the reality of sexism and the probability that a female client will be suffering from its internalization.20 Right?

Carla: Right.

Anne: So much of Jung's theory deals with gender, with the supposed "opposition" of female and male "principles"... there must be a lot to examine. What are some major things you look for in your feminist critique?

Carla: Androcentrism and sexist stereotypes about gender are two biggies. And then there's just plain misogyny. A major challenge is the pervasiveness of certain themes and assumptions about the sexes, which support a worldview that is damaging to women.

Anne: Could you explain that?

Carla: The themes of sexism, misogyny, and the oppression of women are well-known, although their reality and their seriousness have not been widely acknowledged and accepted in our society. This lack of recognition stems from several sources, but one of the deepest is that sexism constitutes a worldview; that is, it is a "lens" through which one views the world and its rightful order.21

As a worldview, sexism has come to be isomorphic with the structures of our consciousness. Looking through the sexist lens means that the sexist structures of society seem to be the way things are naturally... If the sexist order of things is "natural," then it appears not to have been constructed by anyone, and thus to be an outgrowth of our biological or genetic natures. Such a belief lends deep support to the social order, and the structures of consciousness come to reflect the social order in which male privilege is entrenched.22

Androcentrism is a particularly pernicious form of sexism because of its potential for annihilating women's sense of selfhood. Androcentrism is, in short, the habit of thinking about the world, ourselves, and all that is in the world from the male perspective. From that perspective, the male is the center of experience, and that experience is normative.23

Anne: Can you give me an example of androcentrism in Jung's theories?

Carla: Well, the most obvious is his language, which purports to use the generic male to represent all of humanity. But when you read Jung's writings, it becomes obvious that, most of the time, he is actually speaking of the male sex, with occasional nods to woman as opposite or complement of man. The use of male generic language perpetuates the habit of androcentrism.24

Anne: But didn't Jung honor the feminine in his conception of the anima? He even claimed that men had a feminine aspect to their psyches.

Carla: That's precisely the point! Jung's descriptions of the anima — which so often turn into a description of women's psychology rather than the "feminine" part of a man, which the anima was supposed to be 25 — are totally androcentric, even while they purport to honor "the feminine." Here's an example from Two Essays on Analytical Psychology: "Woman, with her very dissimilar psychology, is and always has been a source of information about things for which a man has no eyes. She can be his inspiration; her intuitive concept, often superior to man's can give him timely warning, and her feeling, always directed toward the personal, can show him ways which his own less personally accented feeling would never have discovered." 26 This statement stereotypes both women and men, but it is more potentially harmful to women, because, although it is posed in seemingly-flattering terms, it says that woman's identity is found in the service of a man.27

Anne: How about one of the worst examples in Jung's work that you can think of, in terms of stereotyping and devaluing women?

Carla: There are plenty in his writings on the anima, which often seem to give men a convenient excuse to blame the feminine for their own less-attractive attributes. Here's one: "The anima is a factor of the utmost importance in the psychology of a man wherever emotions and affects are at work. She intensifies, exaggerates, falsifies, and mythologizes all emotional relationships with his work and with other people of both sexes. The resultant fantasies and entanglements are all her doing. When the anima is strongly constellated, she softens the man's character and makes him touchy, irritable, moody, jealous, vain, and unadjusted." 28

As if that weren't bad enough, Jung used his reasoning about the anima to question whether women even had souls. Jung translated "anima" as "soul" and "animus" as "spirit," or Logos, the power of the word. Because women have an animus, not an anima, Jung frequently repeated the old Church conundrum as to whether or not women have souls.29 Can you imagine how damaging such a doubt would be to women's sense of self-worth, not to mention to men's view of women as equals?

And in his writings about the "animus-possessed" woman — the woman whose "inner masculine" qualities are in control of her personality — he says things like: "In intellectual women the animus encourages a critical disputatiousness and would-be highbrowism, which, however, consists essentially in harping on some irrelevant weak point and nonsensically making it the main one." 30

Or: "Animus opinions are invariably collective, and they override individuals and individual judgments in exactly the same way as the anima thrusts her emotional anticipations and projections between man and wife. If the woman happens to be pretty, these animus opinions have for the man something rather touching and childlike about them, which makes him adopt a benevolent, fatherly, professorial manner. But if the woman does not stir his sentimental side, and competence is expected of her rather than appealing helplessness and stupidity, then her animus opinions irritate the man to death..." 31

Anne: Those are pretty bad. Talk about perpetuating the idea that men want bimbos! But really, by today's standards, those statements are pretty unflattering to both men and women!

Carla: Of course. My point is that Jung's psychology too often is built on an opposition of stereotypes of "masculine" and "feminine" characteristics and roles. Even in his later writings, he clearly states "a man should live as a man, and a woman as a woman." 32 As late as 1964, he wrote things like: "But no one can get round the fact that by taking up a masculine profession, studying and working like a man, woman is doing something not wholly in accord with, if not directly injurious to, her feminine nature." 33 While women usually get the worst end of this kind of polarization, the oppositional and dualistic view of gender is ultimately extremely limiting to men, too.

Anne: Why do you think Jung's works, in so many ways, foster traditional sex roles and demonstrate his expectations for and denigration of women? 34

Carla: Like Freud, Jung lived in a time when women were bound by sex-role constraints. Women did not enjoy the public life that men did. They were expected to be compliant in their roles as daughter, wife, sister, and mother. They held less-than-powerful positions in the various male-dominated societal systems — the state, church, and family. Therefore, Jung's theories must be assessed with a recognition of the culture-bound influences on his life and work.35

Not only that, but they must also be assessed in light of his personal experiences with his mother, whom he saw as "split" into two personalities — the comfortable, conventional maternal type, and the somewhat frightening but far more fascinating "primal" creature in touch with supernatural insights and powers.36 His later relationships with his wife Emma, and his mistress Toni Wolff both affected and were affected by his preconceived notions of what femininity is and should be.

Jung was very insightful about how men project their own views of femininity — in the form of the anima — onto women. It's a real irony that he was blind to the fact that his own theories — including his description of the anima — were the results of exactly that kind of projection!

Anne: It's odd that he never questioned gender stereotypes, when he questioned almost every other kind of belief system and authority that held sway in his time, including his own mentor, Freud.

Carla: Yes, it is odd. It's obvious from his letter to Freud, which I quoted earlier, that Jung felt quite free to interpret religious mythology in his own way. He certainly questioned the views of Christ that prevailed in his own father's religion. And his differences with Freud's beliefs ultimately led to an extremely painful estrangement between the two. But he never quite made the leap to questioning the gender stereotypes of his time. And that serves to emphasize just how strong the androcentric worldview really is, and how important it is for feminists to point out androcentrism in Jungian psychology. Otherwise, Jungian analysis only reinforces a patriarchal social structure that undermines women's sense of worth and value in themselves. That's hardly a therapeutic strategy that promotes woman's healing and wholeness.

Anne: What you're actually doing is contextualizing Jung's theories, are you not?

Carla: Exactly. It's necessary to contextualize Jung's theories in his own social and family backgrounds. Because Jung has become an idol, to do this is "iconoclastic" as well as feminist. Contextualization, both a demystifying and a demythicizing act, undermines the idolization of the leader.37 And since Jungian psychology has been called a "cult" 38 with Jung himself as charismatic leader, you can see how difficult contextualizing his work can be.

Anne: No wonder there's so much controversy around whether Jung's psychology is "sexist" or not.

Carla: Yes. And it isn't always clear-cut, because Jung's writings are prodigious and often shrouded in ambiguity. 39 But the critique is very important as a process, because Jungian psychology concerns itself largely with images and their power. Many feminist theologians, as well, have considered the power of images. A main difference between the two analyses lies in the feminists' awareness of the political dimension of symbols and the apolitical character of Jungian psychology — a lack of awareness that functions to reinforce the status quo... While Jung's psychology offers a powerful and important understanding of symbols and methods of working with them, it is also itself in some ways a symbol system with political and social ramifications and thus supports the gender-based social order from which it sprang." 40

Anne: Is that why feminists have been so critical of archetypal theory?

Carla: Largely. Jung's understanding of the source of symbols is the collective unconscious, which, he posits, is universal. Many feminists draw on Jung's theory of the collective unconscious for their understanding of the power of symbols, while rejecting Jung's claims of universality. The androcentric nature of the prevailing symbol systems — from which Jung derives his theory of the collective unconscious — prevents feminists from claiming full allegiance to or responsibility for them as they are presented to us. This is why many feminists have gone on a search for pre-patriarchal systems or for the goddess in prepatriarchal history, hoping to find remnants of a worldview that does reflect women's consciousness.41 Feminist scholars tend to agree that by themselves, the Jungian archetypes are incapable of dealing with gender role changes. Those female Jungians and feminists that persist in working within the confines of archetypal psychology must first bridge the chasm of inaccessibility, and, in turn, reinterpret the original mythological material.42 Jean Shinoda Bolen's Goddesses in Everywoman and Christine Downing's The Goddess are two who are doing this, although they focus on Greek goddesses, which were already only fragments of the prepatriarchal Great Mother goddess.

Anne: Jung knew about the Great Mother goddess, though, didn't he? He wrote a lot about her as an archetype.

Carla: He knew about her, but he didn't associate her with prepatriarchal times. When he wrote, the discoveries of prepatriarchal cultures by Marija Gimbutas and James Mellaart were not widely known. So as far as Jung knew, patriarchy was just human nature, the way it had always been, and thus he gave extremely androcentric interpretations even to those early myths which are now receiving quite different interpretations by feminist scholars and mythologists. For example, Jung saw the cultures that worshipped the cycles of nature as a Great Mother as being more "primitive" than our own. That evaluation is certainly being called into question at this time, when our male-dominated, "logocentric," so-called "civilization" has brought us close to biocide all over the planet, through warfare and environmental pollution.

Anne: You certainly have your work cut out for you. It never occurred to me before that the fate of the planet might rest on a re-valuation of the feminine.

Carla: Yes. Even Jung saw the connection there. In fact, he wrote about it in Answer to Job. He just didn't see how his own culture-bound stereotypes about gender contributed to perpetuating the problem.

Anne: Can you explain that? I always thought Answer to Job was Jung's most "feminist" book.

Carla: It probably is, which is still not saying a great deal! There's a lot I could say about that book alone, but I'll try to be brief. I do want to acknowledge Jung's genius in recognizing the far-reaching problems resulting from man's — and I use the word intentionally — insistence that God is all good and evil comes from his unruly son Satan. Jung rightly points up the problems this creates for belief in God's supposed omnipotence — why didn't he just do away with Satan and his mischief-making? — and omniscience, which he frequently neglected to consult, or he wouldn't have needed to test Job in the first place. By letting himself get conned into a bet with Satan which led him to break his own covenants with humans, God showed himself at least as gullible as Eve was to the serpent, with less excuse — after all, she was only human. Which leads one to wonder why Jung didn't write a book called Answer to Eve! But I digress...

Anyway, because Job's steadfastness in the face of God's unwarranted punishment and ranting caused God to dimly realize that Job was actually morally superior to Him, Jung theorized that God's incarnation and sacrifice in Jesus was actually an atonement for God's sins rather than humanity's. As Jung pointed out, "What kind of father is it who would rather his son were slaughtered than forgive his ill-advised creatures who have been corrupted by his precious Satan? 43 Well, even if Jung was correct and the sacrifice were God's atonement to humanity, what kind of father would assume that humans would want such a sacrifice? This eye-for-an-eye concept of justice makes it appear that God paid little attention to his own son's teachings about forgiveness.

Anne: Excuse my ignorance, but how does this relate to Jung's feminism or lack of it in Answer to Job?

Carla: I'm getting to that. Jung theorizes that the appearance of Sophia — the female impersonation of Wisdom — at about the same time as the story of Job, give or take 300 years, is no coincidence. To grossly oversimplify, Jung implies that God is so unconscious and irrational that he needs to integrate his anima, in the form of Sophia/Wisdom, to clean up his act.

Anne: Sort of "all he needs is a good woman..." thinking, huh?

Carla: Exactly. Up 'til then, all the remnants of the Great Mother Goddess had been ruthlessly suppressed in the Hebrew Bible — either simply erased; or demonized in symbols of evil, like the golden calf and the serpent; or scapegoated, like Eve. But after Job, Jung thinks God unconsciously realized he was out of control, and needed some civilizing feminine influence. Still, he set it up very carefully, with Mary's asexual sinlessness and Jesus's celibacy, so that this female energy couldn't get the upper hand. Jung doesn't draw this conclusion, but I think God realized that in behaving like "an unconscious nature god" 44 he wasn't all that different from the Great Mother Goddess in her primordial undifferentiated state of consciousness, which Jung is fond of dismissing as "primitive." 45 God may have been feeling a little insecure in his position as Supreme Being at that point, so he decided to incorporate some of the less-threatening aspects of the Goddess — her wisdom and kindness and so on, but certainly not her sexuality.

Anne: So Sophia was supposed to intercede for humanity, just like Mary has done for the Catholics ever since?

Carla: Right. Taking a highly personified form that is clear proof of her autonomy, Wisdom reveals herself to men as a friendly helper and advocate against Yahweh, and shows them the bright side, the kind, just, and amiable aspect of their God.46

Anne: That sounds just like what my mom used to do with my dad, who behaved a lot like Yahweh. He was schizophrenic and alcoholic, but mom always tried to convince us kids that he really loved us, down deep. The healthiest thing my mom ever did was show her autonomy by divorcing him. Seems like Sophia could learn a thing or two from my mom.

Carla: Well, yes, and that's what a lot of women are doing today with the reemergence of the Goddess. But getting back to Answer to Job... Do you see how androcentric even this view of Sophia is? Her role is no more than a helper — never mind that she might have other goals for herself!

The irony is that Jung himself recognized how patriarchal biblical societies were. He wrote: "The inferiority of women was a settled fact. Woman was regarded as less perfect than man..." 47 But then Jung played right into that view by saying: "Perfection is a masculine desideratum, while woman inclines by nature to completeness. And it is a fact that, even today, a man can stand a relative state of perfection much better and for a longer period than a woman, while as a rule it does not agree with women and may even be dangerous for them." 48 Jung creates this strange opposition of male=striving for perfection vs. female=striving for completeness...

Anne: Do you suppose that came from Freud's assertion that women were "incomplete men" because they didn't have a penis?

Carla: It's the only explanation I can think of. And having set up that unquestioned opposition, Jung goes on to say: "If a woman strives for perfection she forgets the complementary role of completeness, which, though imperfect by itself, forms the necessary counterpart to perfection." 49 In other words, women must not forget their primary role of complementing and completing men, by daring to seek their own perfection!

Anne: That was what got Eve into trouble in the first place, isn't it — acting on her own?

Carla: Well, Eve acted on her own, but she was seduced by the serpent. And she did share the fruit with Adam, so she was already playing the role of helpmate. But the significant thing here is that Jung thinks Eve may have been representing Sophia, or wisdom, even if only a little bit. He wrote: "It is not clear how much of Eve represents Sophia and how much of her is Lilith. At any rate Adam has priority in every respect. Eve was taken out of his body as an afterthought." 50

A brilliant but rather jaded feminist scholar, Dr. Ann Imus-Rydden, noting that Eve was the first to achieve consciousness, after heeding the counsel of the old Goddess's representative the serpent; and also noting the disaster men have made out of 5,000 years of patriarchy; remarked cynically that — rather than Eve being an afterthought — "Adam was a rough draft" 51 and not a very successful one, at that! But of course most feminists take a more moderate view.

Anne: Hmmm, there is something to be said for looking at an issue from both sides...! Earlier you mentioned something about women's sexuality being missing from God's integration of the feminine...

Carla: Not only missing from God's but from Jung's. While he notes that God has projected his own shadow onto mankind,52 Jung conveniently remains unconscious of the way in which man has projected his shadow onto woman — particularly onto woman's sexuality, which was associated with creativity in the old nature religions.

For example, Inanna's sacred marriage, which celebrated her sexuality, was the source of all nature's bounty for the Sumerian people.53 But when he describes the prediction that Satan will finally be cast down into hell, in the form of the "morning star" — "Venus in her psychological implications..." 54 Jung neglects to mention that Venus, the morning star, symbolizes Inanna/Ishtar. This seems very clearly to imply a connection between female sexuality and ultimate evil; the fact that Mary must be a virgin reinforces this connection.

And then there is the Apocalyptic vision of the final destruction of the "Great Whore of Babylon... the chthonic equivalent of the sun-woman Sophia..." 55 The only ones to be saved by Christ's second coming are the 144,000 "male virgins, 'which were not defiled with women'." 56 Even Jung notes that "The destruction of Babylon therefore represents not only the end of fornication, but the utter eradication of all life's joys and pleasures..." 57 but, remarkably, he fails to pursue this thought and its implications for his theories.

Anne: Didn't Jung see the Church's official elevation of Mary to heavenly status as extremely important?

Carla: Oh, yes. He wrote: "It is psychologically significant for our day that in the year 1950 the heavenly bride was united with the bridegroom." 58 He saw this event as satisfying "the longing in the masses for an intercessor and meadiatrix who would at last take her place alongside the Holy Trinity and be received as the 'Queen of Heaven and Bride at the heavenly court'." 59

But take a look at what a sexless marriage this is! This is not the real "Queen of Heaven and Earth" — which is what Inanna was called — Inanna, who represented sexuality, creativity, and sacred femaleness. This is a male projection, "safely" cleansed of sexuality and earthiness.

Mary, as described by Christianity, represents no opposites, any more than God does, and this is why Jung's theory contains the same flaw he accuses Christianity of. Only when a fully-integrated, embodied male Nature deity, which has withdrawn its projections from women, unites with a fully-integrated female deity who embodies all the aspects of Inanna/Ishtar/Nature, can a true coniunctio take place. This is the only way to heal the split of opposites which Jung saw as leading humanity toward self-destruction. And I maintain this split can only be healed on earth, not off in some disembodied heaven.

Anne: It sounds like you're saying it all hinges on how one values female sexuality.

Carla: It all hinges on the reconnection and revaluing of female sexuality, creativity, and divinity — the original holy trinity, you might say. In patriarchal religions and psychologies, of which our society is still a product, women's divinity and creativity are denied, and their sexuality — the original source of creativity in the birth of new life — is demonized. In our society, sexuality is associated with violence and domination — witness the themes in pornography 60 — even with death, as in the infamous "snuff" films whose victims are nearly always women.61 And divinity is associated with death, as witness Christ on the cross. Riane Eisler pointed out that a society whose central religious image is a woman giving birth would be very different from one whose central image was a man dying on a cross. I think that sums up the point that Jung was grasping toward, but failed to reach because of his androcentrism and sexism.

Anne: You've certainly made it clear how complex and interwoven Jung's views on religion, psychology and gender are. And what a difficult job it will be to transform society. Jung clearly meant well, and he had tremendous insights, yet he was still so blind in some areas.

Carla: In my remarks today, I hope to illustrate how difficult is the task in which women are engaged, showing the depth at which symbols of the "feminine" and the "masculine" operate. To see beyond the false claims of androcentric religion and, at the same time, not to lose sight of the central importance of religion in human life, as well as to find spiritual paths that nourish women, is one of our most challenging tasks today.62

Anne: You've convinced me, but I want to play devil's advocate for a moment here. By blaming patriarchy for many of the evils of the world, including women's victimization, aren't the feminist critics of Jung projecting entirely onto men in just the reverse way that patriarchy has projected it onto women? 63

Carla: There's a difference. Blaming patriarchy and naming its effects in women's lives are two different activities. Accurate observations of the factors producing psychological traits is a first step in defining an adequate therapy for them.64

Anne: You've certainly persuaded me that Jung's theories about gender, if unexamined, can create plenty of problems for women in therapy. But there's one thing I'm still curious about. Weren't many of Jung's analysands women, and didn't many of them later become analysts themselves? How could his psychology be so popular with women, if it has all these flaws that you say can actually be harmful to women?

Carla: The primary appeal of Jung's psychology to women, it seems to me — based partly on my own experience — is that it is a "meaning-making" psychology. For Jung, the unconscious was the source of creativity, and Jungian psychology often releases creativity hitherto unexpressed. Analytical psychology offers a balance to an overly rational, materialistic world and can shed light on the darkness of a soul lacking meaning. It can be the path to a person's spiritual awakening.65

Also, for nonfeminist Jungian women, Jung's validation of the "feminine" has great appeal. They find permission in his psychology to be "feminine," as well as to actualize their "masculine side." 66 This can be an empowering step toward a more feminist consciousness. But the process must not stop there — it needs to be taken further. Otherwise they — along with those men who can now feel safe accepting their "inner feminine" without feeling less "masculine" — stay stuck in the androcentric worldview, and the stereotypes of "male" and "female" don't have to be examined or changed. Moving beyond those limiting stereotypes is really the next step.

Anne: I'm interested in how feminist scholars are doing that.

Carla: Well, first of all, we're taking the words "feminine" and "masculine" — and trying to loosen up the hierarchy of values attached to the stereotyped definitions of those terms. We realize that concepts of gender are not going to melt away into androgyny — which, by the way, does not mean a sexless sameness as some people fear — overnight. After 5,000 years of patriarchy, the concepts "masculine" and "feminine" are — dare I say it — archetypal in human culture and consciousness — even if their meanings are not nearly as universal as Jung and Jungians would have it.

So feminist scholarship is trying to remove the patriarchal overlay from the archetypes as Jung defined them. In some cases, this means identifying "new" archetypes which Jung was blind to, in his own androcentrism. In other cases, it means looking at gendered archetypal images 67 with an eye that both sees and values the "feminine." In my own work, I've had a lot of fun reinterpreting Jung's own dreams and visions using this method. It helps me discover where he might have gone with his theorizing, if he hadn't been so caught in his culturally-induced projections and fears of the female.

Anne: How about an example of one of your reinterpretations?

Carla: Okay. Let me read you this vision from December 12, 1913, which was the first Jung had after deciding to surrender to the demands of "the fantasies which were stirring in me 'underground'." 68 Although he was very fearful of being overcome by the unconscious material, as many of his patients had been, Jung was also very courageous. He didn't feel he could ask his patients to explore their unconscious if he was unwilling to explore his own, nor did he believe he could help them without some firsthand experience of what they went through. 69 Here is what he wrote:

"I was sitting at my desk once more, thinking over my fears. Then I let myself drop. Suddenly it was as though the ground literally gave way beneath my feet, and I plunged down into dark depths. I could not fend off a feeling of panic. But then, abruptly, at not too great a depth, I landed on my feet in a soft, sticky mass. I felt great relief, although I was apparently in complete darkness. After a while my eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, which was rather like a deep twilight. Before me was the entrance to a dark cave, in which stood a dwarf with a leathery skin, as if he were mummified. I squeezed past him through the narrow entrance and waded knee deep through icy water to the other end of the cave where, on a projecting rock, I saw a glowing red crystal. I grasped the stone, lifted it, and discovered a hollow underneath. At first I could make out nothing, but then I saw that there was running water. In it a corpse floated by, a youth with blond hair and a wound in the head. He was followed by a gigantic black scarab and then by a red, newborn sun, rising up out of the depths of the water. Dazzled by the light, I wanted to replace the stone upon the opening, but then a fluid welled out. It was blood. A thick jet of it leaped up, and I felt nauseated. It seemed to me that the blood continued to spurt for an unendurably long time. At last it ceased, and the vision came to an end." 70

Anne: Jung interpreted this as a hero myth of death and rebirth, didn't he?

Carla: Yes, and up to a point he was on the right track, recognizing "the rebirth symbolized by the Egyptian scarab." 71 But then his androcentric blindness stopped him. He wrote: "At the end, the dawn of the new day should have followed, but instead came that intolerable outpouring of blood — an altogether abnormal phenomenon [C.E. emphases], so it seemed to me. But then I recalled the vision of blood that I had had in the autumn of the same year, and I abandoned all further attempt to understand." 72

Anne: What do you think the vision meant?

Carla: Well, clearly nobody can interpret somebody else's visions with complete confidence in their accuracy, even though that didn't stop Jung from publishing a book analyzing Miss Frank Miller's transcriptions of her dreams and fantasies — and he never even met her! 73 So I think I'm on fairly solid ground here, knowing my father pretty well. But bear in mind that this is only one possible interpretation, based on taking into account the female half of humanity and her symbols.

Had he been inclined to consider female imagery, even Jung might have recognized the initial scene as a vulva image, I think, especially with its "soft, sticky mass at the entrance to the womb. The "mummified" dwarf with leathery skin," which Jung had to squeeze past to enter the cave/womb, might represent the shriveled penis, a symbol that is no longer potent in the world Jung is entering. After squeezing through the "narrow entrance" (the birth canal) in knee-deep water which his fear causes him to experience as "icy," Jung discovers a "projecting rock" holding a "glowing red crystal." Jung has, perhaps, encountered the "omphalos," the navel of the world, from the inside, from the female perspective; its lid is a crystal glowing red, the color of the blood of birth or menstruation as well as death — a color associated with the Goddess from prepatriarchal times. 74

Jung's grasping of the crystal and lifting it symbolizes his efforts to help give birth to a new world in which the feminine is restored to its sacred creativity. But he couldn't see that, in his vision or in his conscious lifetime. When he looks into the hollow left by his removal of the crystal, he at first sees nothing. Next he sees running water. Now water is a symbol of the Goddess from time immemorial,75 representing the primordial waters from which all life emerged, as well as the water that encases each child within its mother before birth. Next, in his vision, Jung sees a dead young man with blond hair and a head wound. This represents the western European hero myth, which has long outlived its usefulness — if it ever had any — and has died, symbolically, from a head wound, self-inflicted, representing the effect of patriarchy's overemphasis on intellect, "rationality," and Logos. The corpse is followed by the scarab, representing rebirth as Jung surmised, and then by a "red, newborn sun" rising from the depths of the maternal waters.

Now, Jung liked to think of the sun as a purely masculine symbol, disregarding the fact, which he must have known, that in several cultures the sun deity is female.76 Jung considered his own language, German, to be erroneous in assigning feminine gender to the sun, which is a good example of how our preconceptions can blind us to new evidence when it appears. In this case, the sun's light represents consciousness, and since it contrasts with the moribund male symbols (the dwarf and the dead youth), I feel somewhat justified in interpreting it as female consciousness.

Jung, "dazzled by the light" — and no doubt by its implications which he must have intuited unconsciously — tries to replace the stone in the opening, but once released from its imprisonment in patriarchy, female consciousness will not be suppressed. Blood pours forth — the blood of birth, of menstruation, of the wonder of woman who bleeds but does not die. Too bad Jung never considers these aspects of blood; he associates blood only with death, so of course he is nauseated, which is probably the effect women's power has on a lot of patriarchal men. The flow lasts an "unendurably long time," after which Jung is finally released, "stunned," from the vision.

Jung was not ready to recognize the fact that his vision was indeed prophetic: it predicted the demise of patriarchy and the resurgence of sacred female powers, which Jung himself helped to promote in some ways, even though he experienced great fear and resistance to both phenomena. The "intolerable outpouring of blood — an altogether abnormal phenomenon" is an understandable reaction for a man who has known only patriarchy. It is a great irony that Jung unconsciously upheld patriarchy, even though he himself suffered from it and sought to heal its wounds without full awareness of their source in misogyny and gynophobia.

Anne: Wow! That is an awesome interpretation. And it makes so much sense in light of the work feminist scholars have done since Jung's death. It almost seems like Jung was tapping into some prophetic power of the collective unconscious.

Carla: Yes. And by articulating the idea of the collective unconscious, Jung gave future feminist scholars an invaluable concept on which to build their work. Although one might wish Jung had been less blinded by androcentrism, it's necessary to remember that one gets to a hindrance that one cannot climb over if one does not have the necessary concepts.77 Jung did not have the feminist concepts that would have allowed him to become conscious of his own androcentrism and sexism, because much of the feminist scholarship that came later needed concepts that Jung himself had articulated. That's why it's so important for feminism to be informed by certain Jungian ideas, and for Jungians to pay attention to feminist analyses.

Anne: If Jung had been aware of the gynocentric viewpoint instead of immersed solely in androcentric thought, he might have interpreted many things differently.

Carla: Absolutely! For example, I had to laugh at Jung's vision of Salome and Elijah: "The atmosphere was that of the other world. Near the steep slope of a rock I caught sight of two figures, an old man with a white beard and a beautiful young girl. I summoned up my courage and approached them as though they were real people, and listened attentively to what they told me. The old man explained that he was Elijah, and that gave me a shock. But the girl staggered me even more, for she called herself Salome! She was blind. What a strange couple: Salome and Elijah. But Elijah assured me that he and Salome had belonged together from all eternity, which completely astounded me. . . . They had a black serpent living with them which displayed an unmistakable fondness for me. I stuck close to Elijah because he seemed to be the most reasonable of the three, and to have a clear intelligence. Of Salome I was distinctly suspicious. Elijah and I had a long conversation which, however, I did not understand." 78

Anne: Jung stuck close to Elijah because he seemed to be the most reasonable, even though Jung didn't understand his conversation?

Carla: Right. The ol' boys have to stick together. You know how hard it is for a patriarchally-trained man to give up on Logos, even when it makes absolutely no sense.

Anne: And there's that serpent again!

Carla: Yup, and Jung recognized its fondness for him — just like all those women analysands and disciples that always hung around him in later years. But Jung never quite trusted the feminine, as he says both in this vision and in his autobiography.79 And yet he was irresistibly drawn toward the feminine. His inner conflict mirrored the love-hate relationship patriarchy has had with women for several thousand years.

Anne: Do you think that love/hate relationship you mentioned is why psychologists have come up with misogynist concepts like "penis envy"?

Carla: Oh, that one's so transparent it's laughable. Phyllis Freud 80 exposed that old projection ages ago. She identified it as a transference of males' "womb envy," which would have been obvious to anyone not totally brainwashed by male monotheism. But I and my sister scholars prefer the term "Venus envy," which refers to a whole complex of male pathologies rooted in envy of women's sacred creative sexuality. "Venus," as you probably know, was the name given by male archaeologists to the first Paleolithic and Neolithic statues that were found depicting the all-creative Earth Mother Goddess — Willendorff is an example. The term "Venus" is laughably limited, since it sees these figures only in terms of their potential to arouse male desire, which was most likely not even a factor in how early women and men viewed the Goddess. But that's why it's such an appropriate term for this male neurosis, which led to such institutionalized acting-out as the Christian "holy communion."

Anne: I don't follow you.

Carla: Think about it. Whose blood do you think that wine is really intended to imitate? Whose body really provides nourishment to human babies? If men were really as rational and logical as they'd like us to believe, do you think they'd fall for such a blatant imitation and appropriation of powers that clearly belong only to women?

Anne: You shoot high, don't you?

Carla: I mean, let's get real, here.

Anne: If I follow you correctly, am I right in assuming you'd interpret the "hero's journey" as a case of arrested development, then?

Carla: Of course. Gilgamesh is a good example. Even after any number of warnings about the futility of trying to remove himself from his role in Nature's cycles of birth, death, and regeneration — he refuses the role of "dying vegetation god" by spurning Ishtar 81 and going off to symbolically "murder the mother" by cutting down the Goddess's sacred trees 82 — he persists in a futile chase after immortality. Siduri tells him what he needs to do to make the most of his life: "Fill your belly with good things; day and night, night and day, dance and be merry, feast and rejoice. Let your clothes be fresh, bathe yourself in water, cherish the little child that holds your hand, and make your wife happy in your embrace..." 83 In other words, be a nurturing male, enjoy life in the present. But no... he has to keep searching for something that will allow him to go on fighting, conquering, cutting down forests, building walls — sort of like the national leaders of today! But in the end the representative of the goddess snatches away his last chance to restore his lost youth, when the serpent steals the plant which Gilgamesh has plucked from under the waters. The snake eats the plant, immediately sloughs its skin, and returns to the depths while Gilgamesh sleeps on, unconscious. Which proves, once more, to use a modern metaphor, that "Nature always bats last." After this, Gilgamesh is forced to accept his own death. He returns to the city and ultimately surrenders to Ereshkigal, the Goddess of the Underworld.

Now, one might wish that "modern man" would revisit this myth and learn a new lesson from it...

Anne: Like, maybe... murdering the mother — either symbolically or mythologically — is not the best route to maturity and happiness?

Carla: Nor to sustainable life on earth! As Riane Eisler has pointed out, 84 the archaeological findings of Marija Gimbutas and James Mellaart indicate that people lived quite harmoniously and sustainably in the Neolithic cultures that revered the Great Mother Goddess. Which calls into question the patriarchal notion of "civilization" and "progress," wouldn't you say?

Anne: Does this mean that "individuation" isn't the final step in human evolution?

Carla: Absolutely. In fact, it may correspond to the "adolescent" stage in the development of human consciousness. The "descent" into the unconscious, described in a myth as old or older than Gilgamesh, may be the next step toward maturity of consciousness. Sylvia Brinton Perera, a Jungian analyst, acknowledges that this is a step that many women, and some men, take — often in mid-life, and often involuntarily. It does seem that pursuing inner knowledge might lead to more maturity and balance than constantly looking for what is missing through external adventures, as happens in the hero myths.

I think growth calls for the inward journey, once it has become clear that the outer journey has nothing more to offer. And this seems to be the case at this point in history, both for individuals and for the collective consciousness of humankind. This seems to be the message of Jungian scholars like Sukie Colegrave,85 who have proposed that, while certainly a necessary step, individuation needs to be followed by a conscious reintegration of the "feminine" qualities of relatedness and caring with the "masculine" qualities emphasized in individuation.

Anne: Here we are, back to these stereotyped terms for gender!

Carla: It's a real dilemma, isn't it? On the one hand, we want to re-value the "feminine" to counter millennia of sexism and degradation of women. On the other hand, we want both women and men to develop the whole range of positive human potentials, and to recognize the existence of the full range of negative potentials in individuals of both sexes. Labeling human abilities — other than sperm donor and wet nurse — as "masculine" and "feminine" seems counterproductive to that goal.

Anne: So how are you trying to get around it?

Carla: Well, there are several approaches, which is okay since people are in all sorts of different places, in terms of their own thinking and evolution of consciousness. For example, theorists like Genia Pauli Haddon 86 can appeal to those who like biologically-based analogies and symbols. Where the old stereotype sees two oppositional categories: yin=feminine=passive/receptive, and yang=masculine=active/assertive, based on the so-called sexual "activity" of the penis and "passivity" of the vagina; Haddon points out that there is also the assertive "activity" of the uterus in the act of giving birth, and the "passivity" of the testes while creating sperm and semen. Both of those activities are also essential sex-linked parts of the life-creation process. So Haddon proposes the terms "yin-feminine" and "yin-masculine" and "yang-feminine" and "yang-masculine" to describe and demonstrate the full range of human capabilities in both sexes. This is certainly a positive step.

Anne: Jung himself saw the symbolic "union of opposites" in the alchemical coniunctio, or hieros gamos — sacred marriage — as the solution to many of the problems of consciousness, didn't he?

Carla: Yes. But as I've pointed out, this concept has all the old problems of labeling the sexes as "opposites," plus the fact that Jung's gendered definitions were still androcentric, and frequently sexist and misogynist. In my own attempt to "dream the myth onward and give it a modern dress," 87 I'm attempting to expand consciousness beyond limiting stereotypes of "feminine" and "masculine."

Anne: How are you doing that?

Carla: I've come up with another stage of evolution of consciousness, beyond individuation and "maturation" — which is my term for the level achieved through the "descent" process. This next stage, which I call "gylantegration," represents a level of consciousness which recognizes both the uniqueness and the interdependence of everything that exists — not just female and male human beings, but animals, and even the so-called "inanimate" elements of the cosmos.

Anne: Please explain the term "gylantegration."

Carla: Well, "gy" comes from the Greek "gyne," or woman; "an" comes from "andros," or man. The "l" that links them comes from "lyein" or "lyo" which has double meanings in Greek: "to solve or resolve" (as in analysis) and "to dissolve or set free" (as in catalysis).88 In "gylantegration," then, female and male are both linked, and freed from restrictive stereotypes about gender. There is no longer any need for gendered terms like "anima" and "animus" because all human characteristics are recognized as potentials belonging in varying degrees to individuals of both sexes. Imagine the freedom this provides!

Anne: Why a new term, "gylantegration"? Why not "androgyny"?

Carla: For one thing, "gylantegration" puts the female first for a change! But, seriously, androgyny contains some of the same concepts, but not all. And it is handicapped by the concept some people have of a sexless sameness that denies sexual differences. That's one of the fears that helped defeat the ERA.

Anne: I'm confused. I thought you were just saying there weren't gender differences!

Carla: That's a confusion between sex and gender. The physical differences between the sexes are obvious. Those are biological. But gender differences are socially constructed, and it's really impossible to demonstrate conclusively how much these are genetic and how much they are socially conditioned, especially after 5,000 years of "unnatural selection" in patriarchal cultures. Until there is true equality between the sexes, it will continue to be impossible to determine what psychological differences — if there are any — are genuinely, biologically linked to sex. But it's unlikely we'll ever have true equality, while we continue to reinforce gendered stereotypes of human qualities and behaviors. That's why detaching gendered labels from human traits is an essential step toward gylantegration.

Gylantegrated consciousness recognizes the interdependence of both halves of humanity: both for creation of new life, and for sustaining the livability of the planet and the ecosphere. It acknowledges the truth, so long-ignored by "man" in his rush to "have dominion over the earth, and subdue it," that grasses and trees can live just fine without humanity — in fact, probably even better! But humans cannot live without green things to eat and trees to create oxygen for people to breathe. Nor without water to drink, or rocks to build our dwellings, or... well, you get the picture. Gylantegrated consciousness honors the connections between earth-air-fire-water in an ongoing, dynamic process — alchemical, if you will — of which humanity is an intrinsic part. And since humans have taken over many of the functions of Yahweh — an inevitable consequence of God's "becoming man" according to Jung's Answer to Job — gylantegrated consciousness demands that humans take responsibility in a way that Yahweh never did: for assuring the survival and flourishing of all beings in a sustainable way.

Anne: Let me see if I've got this right: you're proposing that "gylantegration" is an even higher state of consciousness than individuation?

Carla: Not "higher"! That's a concept that belongs to dualistic, hierarchical thinking associated with male monotheism: high/low, spirit/flesh, heaven/hell, good/evil, male/female, culture/nature, and so on. We're trying to get away from all that oppositional thinking. I'd prefer the term "deeper," since it implies a stronger connection with the earth. Or "expanded," since it incorporates a multidimensional inclusiveness that resolves oppositional thinking.

Anne: This is getting pretty metaphysical.

Carla: Of course it is. If Jung's psychology has religious elements, then any psychology that builds upon it will necessarily have strong spiritual components. Also, the separation of religion and spirituality from "secular" life is another destructive effect of patriarchal, oppositional thinking. If humans had thought of the earth — and women, who like the earth give birth to new life — as sacred all along, humanity and the sexes wouldn't be in the mess they're in right now!

Anne: This sounds like a hieros gamos that Jung never envisioned.

Carla: True. But his ideas paved the way.

Anne: Do you think Jung would have changed his theories and embraced these new ideas, if he'd lived long enough?

Carla: Yes, I do. It would have been a big stretch for him, but probably no more of a stretch than he had to make, to envision God shitting on his own cathedral.89 In true scientific spirit, Jung was ready to put his theoretical constructs behind him whenever a better expression came along.90 So, despite his natural human resistance to having his contradictions pointed out, I think he would have welcomed the idea of gylantegration. I think it would have saved him a lot of agony in his personal life.

Anne: Your ideas, and those of Colgrave and Haddon — to name just two others — are certainly exciting. So, despite its shortcomings, it sounds like Jungian psychology has tremendous value as a foundation for all these evolutionary ideas you've just described.

Carla: Absolutely. As I've already said, divested of sexism, Jung's psychology is invaluable for an adequate understanding, not only of ourselves, but of the world. Jung's psychology is a worldview and offers far-ranging explanations, some of which are ignored at our peril.91 Until human beings learn to recognize the way they project their inner fears and demons onto other individuals and groups of people, we run the risk of continued scapegoating, xenophobia, escalation of arms production and warfare, and the eventual annihilation of humanity and other living beings on this planet. I must say, the recent elections, both in California and nationwide, don't make me too optimistic. It appears the collective shadow is gaining ascendance in the United States, and I'm not sure that those of us who are trying desperately trying to "dream the myth onward" 92 toward gylantegration are going to have enough time. Still, all we can do is keep trying, and pray for a miracle. There are a lot of synchronicities 93 happening in the world lately that point to the possibility of a miracle, so I hang onto hope.

Anne: You've mentioned "dreaming the myth onward" a couple of times now. And Jung would probably agree with Riane Eisler when she says: "Ours is a species that quite literally lives by stories and images, by the myths — be they religious or secular — that tell us what is 'sacred,' 'natural,' and 'true'." 94 But so many of the myths on which western culture is based are androcentric, sexist, and misogynist — and therefore perpetuate destructive ideas. How do you plan to change the myths we unconsciously live by, especially given the durability of archetypes, according to Jung?

Carla: The first step is to become conscious of the myths we live by, and of the lessons they teach in subtle and not-so-subtle ways. The next step is to rediscover old myths that teach lessons of equality and interdependence — there are a few that survive, mostly from indigenous cultures previously considered "primitive." And finally, we must consciously create new myths, myths that tap into a new, gylantegrated sense of the sacred. Ironically, this process may require going back to the symbols and images from prepatriarchal times, and dreaming new myths around them. In the process, we may discover archetypes for partnership and cooperation and equality that were obscured by the limits on patriarchal "consciousness." There are several theorists working on feminist archetypal theory,95 and storytellers like Lethea Erz are actively working at imagining a new, gylantegrated mythology.

Anne: Can you give me an example?

Carla: Sure. There's the modern myth of Gylania and Angylo, stewards chosen by the Council of All Beings to guide humans toward a new way of living. They're chosen by consensus, because of their highly-evolved individuality, their partnership consciousness, and their well-integrated yin/yang wisdom. They are supernatural psychologists who freely share their skills, and whose ultimate goal is to get everyone working together and cooperating, making use of each individual's unique skills and passions to create a world of peace and abundance, so they can eventually all quit working and spend their time making music, art, and love.96

Anne: Now, that's a pretty evolved myth. What do you have for people who aren't quite ready for that level of gender-bending?

Carla: There are plenty of new stories — and rediscovered old ones — that nudge people toward reconsidering their old stereotypes of female and male capabilities and potentials.97

Anne: Fascinating! I never dreamed that Jung's psychology would lead to such radical changes in gender roles and awareness.

Carla: (laughing) Neither did Jung!

Anne: I realize that much of our conversation today has probably been over the heads of readers who don't already have a basic knowledge of Jung's writings, especially those about archetypes and mythology. Can you suggest any good sources for anyone who's interested in learning more about these ideas?

Carla: I'd suggest the books listed in the References, for starters. And there's this great course called "Jung and Mythology" at the California Institute of Integral Studies in San Francisco, taught by a guy named David Ulansey. He knows his Jung very well, and if he'd just include the book Jung and Feminism,98 by Demaris Wehr, on his reading list, the class would be awesome. He's very supportive of the students' coming up with their own critiques of Jung's work, but frankly, quite a few of them, especially some of the men, don't really have a clue where to start. They're still too caught up in their own invisible androcentric worldview. And I hope I've convinced you of the importance of balancing Jung's ideas with feminist critique.

Anne: Oh yes, you certainly have! You've raised... er, expanded... my consciousness to the point I hardly recognize it. AND my unconsciousness,99 come to think of it.

Carla: You've just pointed out still another challenge — reforming androcentric language — but I'm afraid I don't have time to go into that right now.

Anne: Sad, but true! We are out of time, I'm afraid. Thank you so VERY much, Carla. There's such a wealth of information here that I can barely stand to edit it down to fit in the magazine.

Carla: Oh well... you wouldn't want it to read like an academic paper, after all! That might drive your readers away instead of enlightening them.100

Anne: But really... This is so interesting, and so important for women, and men — especially therapists and their clients — to know about... I do hope you'll write a book someday, to expand on these ideas we've been discussing.

Carla: I just might do that, Anne. Thanks for the suggestion.

 

REFERENCES

Ann, Martha and Imel, Dorothy Myers (1993). Goddesses in World Mythology. Santa Barbara, California: ABC-CLIO.

Brown, Laura S. and Ballou, Mary (1992). Personality and Psychopathology; Feminist Reappraisals. New York: The Guilford Press.

Callahan, Mathew (1991). Sex, Death, & the Angry Young Man; Conversations with Riane Eisler & David Loye. Ojai, California: Times Change Press.

Campbell, Joseph, ed. (1971). The Portable Jung. New York: Viking/Penguin.

Colegrave, Sukie (1979). Uniting Heaven and Earth; A Jungian and Taoist Exploration of the Masculine and Feminine in Human Consciousness. Los Angeles: Jeremy P. Tarcher.

Eisler, Riane (1987). The Chalice and the Blade; Our History, Our Future. San Francisco: Harper & Row.

Eisler, Riane (1990). "Social Transformation and the Feminine: From Domination to Partnership." In To Be a Woman; The Birth of the Conscious Feminine, ed. by Connie Zweig. Los Angeles: Jeremy P. Tarcher. Pp. 27-37

Gadon, Elinor (1989). The Once and Future Goddess. San Francisco: Harper & Row.

Haddon, Genia Pauli (1990). "The Personal and Cultural Emergence of Yang-Femininity." In To Be a Woman; The Birth of the Conscious Feminine, ed. by Connie Zweig. Los Angeles: Jeremy P. Tarcher. Pp. 245-257

Jung, C. G. (1958). Answer to Job, tr. by R.F.C. Hull. Bollingen Series. New York: Princeton University Press.

Jung, C. G. (1959). The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious, 2nd ed. tr. by R.F.C. Hull. Bollingen Series XX, Vol. 9, Part I. New York: Princeton University Press.

Jung, C. G. (1961). Memories, Dreams, Reflections. New York: Vintage/Random House.

Jung, C. G. (1956). Symbols of Transformation, 2nd ed. tr. by R.F.C. Hull. Bollingen Series XX, Vol. 5. New York: Princeton University Press.

Jung, C. G. (1953). Two Essays on Analytical Psychology, 2nd ed, tr. by R.F.C. Hull. Bollingen Series XX, Vol. 7. New York: Princeton University Press.

Kluger, Rivkah Schärf (1991). The Archetypal Significance of Gilgamesh; A Modern Ancient Hero. Einsiedeln, Switzerland: Daimon Verlag.

Lauter, Estella and Rupprecht, Carol Schreier (1985). Feminist Archetypal Theory; Interdisciplinary Re-visions of Jungian Thought. Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press.

Meador, Betty DeShong (1992). Uncursing the Dark; Treasures from the Underworld. Wilmette, Illinois: Chiron Publications.

Perera, Sylvia Brinton (1981). Descent to the Goddess; A Way of Initiation for Women. Toronto, Canada: Inner City Books.

Sandars, N. K. (1960). The Epic of Gilgamesh, rev. ed. New York: Viking Penguin.

Signell, Karen A. (1990). Wisdom of the Heart; Working with Women's Dreams. New York: Bantam.

Steinem, Gloria (1994). "What if Freud Were Phyllis?" In Moving Beyond Words by Gloria Steinem. New York: Simon & Schuster.

Stern, Paul J. (1976). C. G. Jung; The Haunted Prophet. New York: George Braziller.

Wehr, Demaris S. (1987). Jung & Feminism; Liberating Archetypes. Boston: Beacon Press.

Wolkstein, Diane and Kramer, Samuel Noah (1983). Inanna, Queen of Heaven and Earth; Her Stories and Humns from Sumer. New York: Harper & Row.

Zweig, Connie, ed. (1990). To Be a Woman; The Birth of the Conscious Feminine. Los Angeles: Jeremy P. Tarcher

 
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