|
AN INTERVIEW WITH CARLA J. EMMATONI 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
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
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||