/author/Erich%20Neumann

86 quotes by Erich Neumann

Author:
Publisher: Princeton University Press (1954)

The picture we have drawn of our age is not intended as an indictment, much less as a glorification of the 'good old days'; for the phenomena we see around us are symptoms of an upheaval which, taken by and large, is necessary.  The collapse of the old civilization, and its reconstruction on a lower level to begin with, will justify themselves because the new basis will have been immensely broadened.  The civilization that is about to be born will be a human civilization in a far higher sense than any has ever been before, as it will have overcome important social, national, and racial limitations.  These are not fantastic pipe dreams, but hard facts, and their birth pangs will bring infinite suffering upon infinite numbers of men.  Spiritually, politically, and economically our world is an indivisible whole.  By this standard, the Napoleonic wars were minor coups d'état and the world view of that age, in which anything outside Europe had hardly begun to appear, is almost inconceivable to us in its narrowness.



The collapse of the archetypal canon in our culture, which has produced such an extraordinary activation of the collective unconscious - or is perhaps its symptom, manifesting itself in mass movements that have a profound effect upon our personal destinies - is, however, only a passing phenomenon.  Already, at a time when the internecine wars of the old canon are still being waged, we can discern, in single individuals, where the synthetic possibilities of the future lie, and almost how it will look.  The turning of the mind from the conscious to the unconscious, the responsible rapprochement of human consciousness with the powers of the collective psyche, that is the task of the future. No outward tinkerings with the world and no social ameliorations can give the quietus to the daemon, to the gods and devils of the human soul, or prevent them from tearing down again and again what consciousness has built. Unless they are assigned their place in consciousness and culture they will never leave mankind in peace. But the preparation for this rapprochement lies, as always, with the hero, the individual; he and his transformation are the great human prototypes; he is the testing ground of the collective, just as consciousness is the testing ground of the unconscious.


The tendency of unconscious contents to swamp consciousness corresponds to the danger of being 'possessed'; it is one of the greatest 'perils of the soul' even today. A man whose consciousness is possessed by a particular content has an enormous dynamism in him, namely that of the unconscious content; but this counteracts the centroversion tendency of the ego to work for the whole rather than for the individual content.


Humanity as a whole and the single individual have the same task, namely, to realize themselves as a unity.  Both are cast forth into a reality, one half of which confronts them as nature and external world, while the other half approaches them as psyche and the unconscious, spirit and daemonic power.  Both must experience themselves as the center of this total reality.


The absence in our culture of rites and institutions designed, like the rites of puberty, to smooth the adolescent's passage into the world is one reason for the incidence of neuroses in youth, common to all of which is the difficulty of facing up to the demands of life and of adapting to the collective and to one's partner.  The absence of rites at the climacteric works in the same way.  Common to the climacteric neuroses of the second half of life is the difficulty of freeing oneself from worldly attachments, as is necessary for a mellow old age and its tasks.  The causes of these neuroses are therefore quite different from, indeed the opposite of, those occurring in the first half of life.


Progression through the archetypal phases, the patriarchal orientation of consciousness, the formation of the superego as the representative of collective values within the personality, the existence of a collective value-canon, all these things are necessary conditions of normal, ethical development.  If any one of these factors is inhibited, developmental disturbances result.  A disturbance of the first two factors, which are specifically psychic, leads to neuroticism; a disturbance of the other two, which are cultural, expresses itself more in social maladjustment, delinquency, or criminality.


The identification of the ego with consciousness robs it of contact with the unconscious and thus of psychic wholeness.  Consciousness can now claim to represent unity, but this unity is only the relative unity of the conscious mind and not that of the personality.  Psychic wholeness is lost and is replaced by the dualistic principle of opposites which governs all conscious and unconscious constellations.


The development of the persona is the outcome of a process of adaptation that suppresses all individually significant features and potentialities, disguising and repressing them in favor of collective factors, or  those deemed desirable by the collective.  Here again, wholeness is exchanged for a workable and successful sham personality.  The 'inner voice' is stifled by the growth of a superego, of conscience, the representative of collective values.  The voice, the individual experience of the transpersonal, which is particularly strong in childhood, is renounced in favor of conscience.  When paradise is abandoned, the voice of God that spoke in the Garden is abandoned too, and the values of the collective, of the father, of law and conscience, of the current morality, etc., must be accepted as the supreme values in order to make social adaptation possible.\n\n 'Whereas the natural disposition of every individual inclines him to be physically and psychically bisexual, the differential development of our culture forces him to thrust the contrasexual element into the unconscious.  As a result, only those elements which accord with the outward characteristics of sex and which conform to the collective valuation are recognized by the conscious mind.  Thus 'feminine' or 'soulful' characteristics are considered undesirable in a boy, at least in our culture. Such a one-sided accentuation of one's specific sexuality ends by constellating the contrasexual element in the unconscious, in the form of the anima in men and the animus in women, which, as part souls, remain unconscious and dominate the conscious-unconscious relationship.  This process has the support of the collective, and sexual differentiation, precisely because the repression of the contrasexual element is often difficult, is at first accompanied by typical forms of animosity towards the opposite sex.  This development, too, follows the general principle of differentiation which presupposes the sacrifice of wholeness, here represented by the figure of the hermaphrodite.


The child's fear and feeling of being threatened does not derive from the traumatic character of the world, for no trauma exists under normal human conditions or even under primitive ones; it comes rather from the 'night space,' or, to be more precise, it arises when the ego steps forth from this night space.  The germinal ego consciousness then experiences the overwhelming impact of the world-and-body stimulus, either directly or in projection.  The importance of family relationships lies precisely in the fact that the personal figures of the environment who are the first form of society must be able, as soon as the ego emerges from the primary security of the uroboric state, to offer it the secondary security of the human world.


Development in the first half of life is marked by two decisive crises, each of which corresponds to a fight with the dragon.  The first crisis is characterized by the encounter with the problem of the First Parents and by the formation of the ego.  It is enacted between the ages of three and five, and psychoanalysis has made us familiar with certain aspects and forms of this parental encounter, under the guise of the Oedipus complex.  The second crisis is puberty, when the dragon fight has to be fought out again on a new level.  Here the form of the ego is finally fixed with the support of what we have called 'heaven.'  That is to say, new archetypal constellations emerge, and with them a new relation of the ego to the self.


An important goal of childhood development and education is the utilization of the individual in the sense of making him a useful member of the community.  This usefulness, achieved through differentiation of the separate components and functions of the personality, is necessarily bought at the cost of wholeness.  The need to renounce the unconscious wholeness of the personality is one of the most formidable developmental difficulties for the child, and particularly for the introverted child.


When the individual falls away from the cultural fabric like this, he finds himself completely isolated in an egotistically infalted private world.  The restlessness, the discontents, the excesses, the formlessness and meaninglessness of a purely egocentric life - as compared with the symbolic life - are the unhappy results of this psychological apostasy.\n\n 'Following the collapse of the archeytpal canon, single archetypes then take possession of men and consume them like malenolent demons.  Typical and symptomatic of this transitional phenomenon is the state of affairs in America, through the same holds good for practically the whole Western hemisphere.  Every conceivable sort of dominant rules the personality, which is a personality only in name.  The grotesque fact that murderers, brigands, gangsters, thieves, forgers, tyrants, and swindelers, in a guise that deceives nobody, have seized control of collective life is characteristic of our time.  Their unscrupulousness and double-dealing are recognized - and admired.  Their ruthless energy they obtain at best from some stray achetypal content that has got them in its power.  The dynamism of a possessed personality is accordingly very great, because, in its one-track primitivity, it suffers from none of the differentiations that make men human.  Worship of the 'beast' is by no means confined to Germany; it prevails whereever one-sidedness, push, and moral blindness are appluaded, i.e., whereever the aggravating complexities of civilized behaior are swept away in favor of bestial rapactiy.  One has only to look at the educative ideals now current in the West.\n\n 'The possessed character of our financial and industrial magnates, for instance, is psychologically evident from the very fact that they are at the mercy of a suprapersonal factor - 'work,' 'power,' 'money,' or whatever they like to call it - which, in the telling phrase, 'consumes' them and leaves them little or no room as private persons.  Coupled with a nihilistic attitude towards civilization and humanity there goes a puffing up of the egosphere which expresses itself with brutish egotism in a total disregard for the common good and in the attempt to lead an egocentric existence, where personal power, money, and 'experiences' - unbelievably trivial, but plentiful - occupy every hour of the day.\n\n '...Not only power, money, and lust, but religion, art, and politics are exclusive determinants in the form of parties, nations, sects, movements, and 'isms' of every description take possession of the masses and destroy the individual.  Far be it from us to compare the predatory industrial man and power politician with the man who is dedicated to an idea; for the latter is possessed by the archetypes that shape the future of mankind, and to this driving daemon he sacrifices his life.  Nevertheless, it is the task of a cultural psychology based on depth psychology to set forth a new ethos which shall take the collective effect of these daemonic possessions into account, and this means also accepting responsibility for them.


The line runs, as we saw, from the archetype as an effective transpersonal figure to the idea, and then to the 'concept' which one 'forms.'  A good example of this is the concept of God, which now derives wholly from the sphere of consciousness - or purports to derive from it, as the ego is deluded enough to pretend.  There is no longer anything transpersonal, but only personal; there are no more archetypes, but only concepts; no more symbols, only signs.\n\n 'This splitting off of the unconscious leads on the one hand to an ego life emptied of meaning, and on the other hand to an activation of the deeper-lying layers which, now grown destructive, devastate the autocratic world of the ego with transpersonal invasions, collective epidemics, and mass psychoses.  For an upsetting of the compensatory relationship between conscious and unconscious is not a phenomenon to be taken lightly.  Even when it is not so acute as to bring on a psychic sickness, the loss of instinct and the overaccentuation of the ego have consequences which, multiplied a millionfold, constellate the crisis of civilization.


Compensation is the first requisite for a productive relationship between the ego and the unconscious.  This means that the princess, the soul, is lost to the ego just as much in the patriarchal as in the matriarchal form of castration.\r\n \r\nBut, as we have made clear in Part I of this book, behind both forms there looms the original uroboric castration, where the tendencies to differentiation cancel out.  To put it in psychological language: just as mania and melancholia are merely two forms of madness, of the devouring uroboric state which destroys all ego consciousness, so regression to the unconscious, i.e., being devoured by the Great Mother, and the flight to 'nothing but' consciousness, i.e., being devoured by the spiritual father, are two forms in which any truly compensated consciousness, and the striving for wholeness, are lost.  Deflation as well as inflation destroys the efficacy of consciousness, and both of them are defeats for the ego.\r\n \r\nSpiritual inflation, a perfect example of which is the frenziedness of Nietzsche's Zarathustra, is a typical Western development carried to extremes.  Behind the overaccentuation of consciousness, ego, and reason - sensible enough in themselves as the guiding aims of psychic development - there stands the overwhelming might of 'heaven' as the danger which goes beyond the heroic struggle with the earthly side of the dragon and culminates in a spirituality that has lost touch with reality and the instincts.


Characteristic of the process of differentiation in childhood is the loss and renunciation of all the elements of perfection and wholeness, which are inherent in the psychology of the child so far as this is determined by the pleroma, the uroboros.  The very things which the child has in common with the man of genius, the creative artist, and the primitive, and which constitute the magic and charm of his existence, must be sacrificed.  The aim of all education, and not in our culture alone, is the expel the child from the paradise of his native genius and, through differentiation and the renunciation of wholeness, to constrain the Old Adam in the paths of collective usefulness.\n\n '...The drying up of imagination and of creative ability, which the child naturally possesses in high degree, is one of the typical symptoms of impoverishment that growing up entails.  A steady loss of the vitality of feeling and of spontaneous reactions in the interests of 'sensibleness' and 'good behavior' is the operative factor in the conduct now demanded of the child in relation to the collective.  Increase in efficiency at the cost of depth and intensity is the hallmark of this process.\n\n 'On to the ontogenetic plane there now ensue all the developments which we have described as indispensable for ego formation and the separation of the conscious and unconscious systems.  The child's primarily transpersonal and mythological apperception of the world becomes limited owing to secondary personalization, and is finally abolished altogether.  This personalization is necessary for the growth of personality now beginning and is effected with the help of ties to the personal environment upon which the archetypes are at first projected.  As the personal ties grow stronger, the archetype is gradually replaced by the imago, in which personal and transpersonal characteristics are visibly blended and active.


Despite the tendency to conservatism innate in every canon, the Western canon also has in it a revolutionary ingredient deriving from its acceptance of the hero archetype.  It goes without saying that this hero figure is not the central point of the canon, nor is its revolutionary influence very easy to recognize; but when one sees in how short a space of time the most revolutionary figures of ecclesiastical history became assimilated and produced a new variation of the canon, one realizes the full significance of the acceptance into it of the hero archetype.


Thus the hero, like the ego, stands between two worlds: the inner world that threatens to overwhelm him, and the outer world that wants to liquidate him for breaking the old laws.


The hero, as the vehicle of this effort at compensation, becomes alienated from the normal human situation and from the collective.  This decollectivization entails suffering, and he suffers at the same time because, in his struggle for freedom, he is also the victim and representative of the obsolete, old order and is forced to bear the burden of it in his own soul.\n\n '...Jung puts it that the danger to which the hero is exposed 'isolation in himself.'  The suffering entailed by the very fact of being an ego and an individual is implicit in the hero's situation of having to distinguish himself psychologically from his fellows.  He sees things they do not see, does not fall for the things they fall for - but that means that he is a different type of human being and therefore necessarily alone.  The loneliness of Prometheus on the rock or of Christ on the cross is the sacrifice they have to endure for having brought fire and redemption to mankind.


The hero is not creative in the sense that he decorates embellishes the existing canon, although his creativeness may also manifest itself in shaping and transforming the archetypal contents of his age.  The true hero is one who brings the new and shatters the fabric of old values, namely the father-dragon which, backed by the whole weight of tradition and the power of the collective, ever strives to obstruct the birth of the new.


The important thing is that the archetypal canon is always created and brought to birth by 'eccentric' individuals.  These are the founders of religions, sects, philosophies, political sciences, ideologies, and spiritual movements, in the security of which the collective man lives without needing to come into contact with the primordial fire of direct revelation, or to experience the throes of creation.


All symbols and archetypes are projections of the formative side of human nature that creates order and assigns meaning.  Hence, symbols and symbolic figures are the dominants of every civilization, early or late.  They are the cocoon of meaning which humanity spins round itself, and all studies and interpretations of culture are the study and interpretation of archetypes and their symbols.


The 'sanctification' of unaccustomed activity is still the best method of getting a man out of the rut of everyday habit and conditioning him for the required state of work.  To take an example: the transformation of a petty office clerk into the responsible leader of a death-dealing bomber squadron is probably one of the most radical psychic transformations that can be demanded of modern man.  This metamorphosis of the normal peace-loving citizen into a fighter is, even today, only possible with the help of symbols.  Such a transformation of personality is achieved by invoking the symbols of God, King, Fatherland, Freedom, the 'most sacred good of the nation,' and by dedicatory acts steeped in symbolism, with the added assistance of all the elements in religion and art best calculated to stir the individual.  Only in this way is it psychologically possible to divert psychic energy from the 'natural channel' of peaceable private life into the 'unaccustomed activity' of slaughter.


Creativity in all its forms is always the product of a meeting between the masculine world of ego consciousness and the feminine world of the soul.


Evil, no matter by what cultural canon it be judged, is a necessary constituent of individuality as its egoism, its readiness to defend itself or to attack, and lastly, as its capacity to mark itself off from the collective and to maintain its 'otherness' in face of the leveling demands of the community.  The shadow roots the personality in the subsoil of the unconscious, and this shadowy link with the archetype of the antagonist, i.e., the devil, is in the deepest sense part of the creative abyss of every living personality.  That is why in myths the shadow often appears as a twin, for he is not just the 'hostile brother,' but the companion and friend, and it is sometimes difficult to tell whether this twin is the shadow or the self, the deathless 'other.


One of the most important attainments of consciousness is its ability to dispose at will of the libido supplied to its system, and to use it more or less independently of the source from which it came.  Just as the animation occasioned in the reader by a 'stimulating' book can be applied to a poem, a walk, a bridge party, or a flirtation, without there necessarily being any connection between the book and the ego's reaction, so the ego can apply as it pleases a portion of the libido accruing to it from the conscious realization of an unconscious content.  This relative freedom of the ego, no matter how much it is abused, is one of its most precious accomplishments.


This progressive assimilation of unconscious contents gradually builds up the personality, thus creating an enlarged psychic system which forms the basis of man's inner spiritual history as this makes itself increasingly independent of the collective history going on all around him.  This process, initiated in the first instance by philosophy, has today reached what is chronologically its latest stage in psychology, still of course only in its infancy.  Hand in hand with this there goes a 'psychization' of the world.  Gods, demons, heaven and hell are, as psychic forces, withdrawn from the objective world and incorporated in the human sphere, which thereupon undergoes a very considerable expansion.  When we give the name of 'sexuality' to what was once experienced as a chthonic divinity, or speaking of 'hallucination' instead of revelation, and when the gods of heaven and the underworld are recognized as dominants of man's unconscious, it means that an immense tract of external world has dropped into the human psyche.  Introjection and psychization are on the other side of the process by which a world of physical objects becomes visible, and this world can no longer be modified by projections to the degree that it could before.


Pure existence in the unconscious, which primitive man shares with the animal, is indeed nonhuman and prehuman.  The fact that the dawn of consciousness and the creation of the world are parallel processes which throw up the same symbolism indicates that the world actually 'exists' only to the degree that it is cognized by an ego.  A differentiated world is the reflection of a self-differentiating consciousness.  The multiple archetypes and symbol groups split off from a primordial archetype are identical with the ego's greater range of experience, knowledge, and insight.  Under the total impact of experience in the dawn period no particularized forms could be recognized, for the tremendous force of it extinguished the ego in a sort of numinous convulsion.  But a more informed human consciousness can experience, in the multiplicity of religions and philosophies, theologies and psychologies, the innumerable facets and meanings of the numinous, now anatomized into image and symbol, attribute and revelation.  That is to say, although the primal unity can only be experienced fragmentarily, it has at least come within range of conscious experience, whereas for the undeveloped ego it was utterly overwhelming.


The more complex a content is, the less it can be grasped and measured by consciousness, whose structure is so one-sided that it can attain to clarity only over a limited area.  In this respect consciousness is built analogously to the eye.  There is one spot where vision is sharpest, and larger areas can be perceived clearly only by continuous eye-movements.  In the same way, consciousness can only keep a small segment sharply in focus; consequently it has to break up a large content into partial aspects, experiencing them piecemeal, one after he other, and then learn to get a synoptic view of the whole terrain by comparison and abstraction.\n\n 'An advanced consciousness will therefore split the bivalent content into a dialectic of contrary qualities.  Before being so split, the content is not merely good and bad at once; it is beyond good and evil, attracting and repelling, and therefore irritating to consciousness.  But if there is a division into good and evil, consciousness can then take up an attitude.\n\n 'Rationalization, abstraction, and de-emotionalization are all expressions of the 'devouring' tendency of ego consciousness to assimilate the symbols piecemeal.  As the symbol is broken down into conscious contents, it loses its compulsive effect, its compelling significance, and becomes poorer in libido.  Thus the 'gods of Greece' are no longer for us, as they were for the Greeks, living forces and symbols of the unconscious requiring a ritualistic approach; they have been broken down into cultural contents, conscious principles, historical data, religious associations, and so on.  They exist as contents of consciousness and no longer - or only in special cases - as symbols of the unconscious.


The uroboric tendency of the unconscious to reabsorb all its products by destroying them so as to give them back in new, changed form is repeated on the higher plane of ego consciousness.  Here, too, the analytical process precedes the synthesis, and differentiation is the prime requisite for a later integration.\n\n 'In this sense all knowledge rests on an aggressive act of incorporation.  The psychic system, and to an even greater extent consciousness itself, is an organ for breaking up, digesting, and then rebuilding the objects of the world and the unconscious, in exactly the same way as our bodily digestive system decomposes matter physiochemically and uses it for the creation of new structures.


At first the ego is overpowered by the content newly emerging into consciousness - namely, the archetype of the antagonist - and goes under.  Only gradually, and to the degree that the ego recognizes this destructive tendency as being not just a hostile content of the unconscious, but as part of itself, does consciousness begin to incorporate it, to digest and assimilate it, in other words, to make it conscious.  The destruction is now separable from its old object, the ego, and has become and ego function.  The ego can now use at least a portion of this tendency in its own interests.  In fact, what has happened is that the ego, as we have said, 'turns the tables' upon the unconscious.


Although consciousness is a product of the unconscious, it is a product of a very special sort.  All unconscious contents have, as complexes, a specific tendency, a striving to assert themselves.  Like living organisms, they devour other complexes and enrich themselves with their libido.  We can see in pathological cases, in fixed or compulsive ideas, manias, and states of possession, and again in every creative process where 'the work' absorbs and drains dry all extraneous contents, how an unconscious content attracts all others to itself, consumes them, subordinates and co-ordinates them, and forms with them a system of relationships dominated by itself.  We find the same process in normal life, too, when an idea - love, work, patriotism, or whatever else - comes to the top and asserts itself at the cost of others.  One-sidedness, fixation, exclusiveness, etc., are the consequences of this tendency of all complexes to make themselves the center.\r\n \r\nThe peculiarity of the ego complex, however, is twofold; unlike all other complexes it tends to aggregate as the center of consciousness and to group the other conscious contents about itself; and secondly, it is oriented towards wholeness far more than any other complex.


Pain and discomfort are among the earliest factors that build consciousness.  They are 'alarm-signals' sent out by centroversion to indicate that the unconscious equilibrium is disturbed.  These signals were originally defense measures developed by the organism, though the manner of their development is as mysterious as that of all other organs and systems.  The function of ego consciousness, however, is not merely to perceive, but to assimilate these alarm signals, for which purpose the ego, even when it suffers, has to hold aloof from them if it is to react appropriately.  The ego, keeping its detachment as the center of the registering consciousness, is a differentiated organ exercising its controlling function in the interests of the whole, but is not identical with it.


The instincts of the collective unconscious form the substrate of this assimilative system.  They are repositories of ancestral experience, of all the experience which man, as a species, has had of the world.  Their 'field' is Nature, the external world of objects, including the human collective and man himself as an assimilative-reactive, psychophysical unit.  That is to say, there is in the collective psyche of man, as in all animals, but modified according to species, a layer built up of man's specifically human, instinctive reactions to his natural environment.  A further layer contains group instincts, namely experiences of the specifically human environment, of the collective, race, tribe, group, etc.  This layer covers herd instincts, specific group reactions which distinguish a particular race or people from others, and all differentiated relationships to the nonego.  A final layer is formed by instinctive reactions to the psychophysical organism and its modifications.  For example hunger, hormone constellations, etc., are answered by instinctive reactions.  All these layers intercommunicate.  Their common factor is that the reactions are purely instinctive, the psychophysical unit reacting as a whole by means of meaningful acts which are not the outcome of individual experience, but of ancestral experience, and which are performed without the participation of consciousness.


The metabolic symbolism of mutual exchange between body and world is paramount.  The object of hunger, the food to be 'taken in,' is the world itself; while the other, productive side of the process is symbolized by 'output,' that is, evacuation.  The dominant symbol is not the semen; in creation mythology, urine, dung spit, sweat, and breath (and later, words) are all elementary symbols of the creative principle.


Even in its waking state our ego consciousness, which in any case forms only a segment of the total psyche, exhibits varying degrees of animation, ranging from reverie, partial attention, and a diffuse wakefulness to partial concentration upon something, intense concentration, and finally moments of general and extreme alertness.  The conscious system even of a healthy person is charged with libido only during certain periods of his life; in sleep it is practically or completely emptied of libido, and the degree of animation varies with age.  The margin of conscious alertness in modern man is relatively narrow, the intensity of his active performance is limited, and illness, strain, old age, and all psychic disturbances take their toll of this alertness.  It seems that the organ of consciousness is still at an early stage of development and relatively unstable.


The unconscious state is the primary and natural one, and the conscious state the product of an effort that uses up libido.  There is in the psyche a force of inertia, a kind of psychic gravitation which tends to fall back into the original unconscious condition.


The relation to the outside world is, in large measure actuated not directly by the individual, but by that imaginary entity the 'group,' whose incarnation is the leader or leading animal, and whose consciousness does duty for all parts of the group*.\n\n *That this same relationship still remains catastrophically in force in Western civilization is painfully obvious.  Even today, the ruled are mostly supine members of the herd with no direct orientation of their own.  The ruler, the State, etc., acts as a substitute for individual consciousness and sweeps us blindly into mass movements, wars, etc.


Common descent from the same tribe, the sharing of a common life, and, above all, common experiences create emotional bonds even today, as we well know.  Social, religious, aesthetic, and other collective experiences of whatever coloring - from the tribal head-hunt to the modern mass meeting - activate the unconscious emotional foundations of the group psyche.  The individual has not yet broken loose from the emotional undercurrent, and any excitation of one part of the group can affect the whole, as a fever seizes upon all parts of the organism.  The emotional fusion then sweeps away the still feebly developed differences of conscious structure in the individuals concerned and continually restores the original group unity.


We must not regard our modern, waking consciousness as the obvious point of departure and then, on the analogy of hypnosis, take the participation mystique of the group psyche to be a limitation of this waking state.  The reverse is true; the conscious state is the late and uncommon phenomenon, and its complete attainment is far more of a rarity than modern man so flatteringly pretends, while the unconscious state is the original, basic, psychic situation that is everywhere the rule.


We know that trees, idols, holy places, and human beings are recognizable objects of the external world, into which early man projected his inner psychic contents.  By recognizing them, we withdraw such 'primitive projections,' we diagnose them as autosuggestions or something of the sort, and thus the fusion effected by participation between man and the objects of the external world is nullified.  But when it comes to experiencing God's intervention in world history, or the sanctity of the Fatherland symbolized by flag or king, or the devilish intentions of nations beyond the latest Iron Curtain, or even the bad character of those we dislike or the good character of those we love; when it comes to experiencing these as a projection, then our psychological powers of discernment incontinently fail us, not to mention the fact that we cannot lay our finger on the most blatant examples of all for the simple reason they they are entirely unconscious and belong to the preconceptions which we accept without question.


This indivisibility of group, individual, and external world is found wherever psychic contents - contents, that is to say, which our present-day consciousness recognizes as psychic and which it therefore relegates to the world within us - are projected upon the world at large and are experienced as though they were outside ourselves.  Contents of this kind are recognized readily enough as projections when they derive from earlier epochs, from alien spheres of culture, or from other people, but it becomes increasingly difficult for us to do so the more closely they approximate to the unconscious conditions of our own time, our own culture, and our own personality.


The essential fate of man, at least of the mature modern man, is enacted on three fronts which, although interconnected, are nonetheless clearly marked off from one another.  The world as the outside world of extrahuman events, the community as the sphere of interhuman relationships, the psyche as the world of interior human experience - these are the three basic factors which govern human life, and man's creative encounter with each of them is decisive for the development of the individual.


The uroboros come 'before' the stage of the Great Mother, and the Great Mother 'before' the dragon fight; but an absolute correlation in time is impossible because we have to consider the historical relativity of individual nations and cultures.  Thus Creto-Mycenaean culture was, for the Greeks, the prehistoric Great Mother period, since in that culture her cult was dominant.  Greek mythology is largely the dragon-fight mythology of a consciousness struggling for independence, and this struggle was decisive for the spiritual importance of Greece.  But whereas in Greece this development falls roughly between 1500 and 500 B.C., the corresponding process in Egypt took place probably long before 3300.


Myth figures are archetypal projections of the collective unconscious; in other words, humanity is putting something outside itself in its myths, something of whose meaning it is not conscious.\n\n Just as unconscious contents like dreams and fantasies tell us something about the psychic situation of the dreamer, so myths throw light on the human stage from which they originate and typify man's unconscious situation at that stage.


Fundamental to analytical psychology is the theory of complexes, which recognizes the complex nature of the unconscious and defines complexes as 'living units of the unconscious psyche.'  It also recognizes the complex nature of the ego, which, as the center of consciousness, forms the central complex in the psychic system.\r\n\r\nThis conception of the ego, substantiated by the psychological and psychopathological findings, is one of the distinctive features of analytical psychology:\r\n \r\n>The ego complex is a content of consciousness as well as a condition of consciousness, for a psychic element is conscious to me so far as it is related to the ego complex.  But so far as the ego is only the center of my field of consciousness, it is not identical with the whole of my psyche, being merely one complex among other complexes.\r\n\r\n>Jung, Psychological Types


As though a Copernican revolution has taken place within the psyche, consciousness faces inward and becomes aware of the self, about which the ego revolves in a perpetual paradox of identity and nonidentity.  The psychological process of assimilating the unconscious into our present-day consciousness begins at this point, and the consequent shifting of the center of gravity from the ego to the self signalizes the latest stage in the evolution of human consciousness.


Stability and indestructibility, the true goals of centroversion, have their mythological prototype in the conquest of death, in man's defenses against its power, for death is the primorial symbol of the decay and dissolution of the personality.  Primitive man's refusal to recognize death as a natural occurrence, the immortalization of the king among the ancient Egyptians, ancestor worship, and the belief in the immortality of the soul in the great world-religions - all these are but different expressions of the same fundamental tendency in man to experience himself as imperishable and indestructible.


The development of personality proceeds in three different dimensions.  The first is outward adaptation, to the world and things, otherwise known as extraversion; the second is inward adaptation, to the objective psyche and archetypes, otherwise known as introversion.  The third is centroversion, the self-formative or individuating tendency which proceeds within the psyche itself, independent of the other two attitudes and their development.


The magical effect of the rite is factual enough, and in no sense illusory.  Moreover it actually works out, just as primitive man supposes, in his hunting successes; only the effect does not proceed via the object but via the subject.  The magical rite, like all magic and indeed every higher intention, including those of religion, acts upon the subject who practices the magic or the religion, by altering and enhancing his own ability to act.  In this sense the outcome of the action, whether it be hunting, war, or whatever else, is in the highest degree objectively dependent upon the effect of the magic ritual.  It was left for modern man to make the psychological discovery that the operative factor in magic is the 'reality of the soul' and not the reality of the world.  Originally the reality of the soul was projected outwards upon an external reality.  Even today prayers for victory are commonly regarded not as an inner alteration of the psyche but as an effort to influence God.  In exactly the same way, hunting magic was experienced as an effort to influence the quarry, and not as an influencing of the hunter himself.  In both cases our enlightened rationalism misunderstands the magic and prayer as illusory, in its scientific pride at having established that the object cannot be influenced.  In both cases it is wrong.  An effect that proceeds from an alteration in the subject is objective and real.


The mythological goal of the dragon fight is almost always the virgin, the captive, or, more generally, the 'treasure hard to attain.'  It is to be noted that a purely material pile of gold, such as the hoard of the Nibelungs, is a late and degenerate form of the original motif.  In the earliest mythologies, in ritual, in religion, and in mystical literature as well as in fairy tales, legend, and poetry, gold and precious stones, but particularly diamonds and pearls, were originally symbolic carriers of immaterial values.  Likewise the water of life, the healing herb, the elixir of immortality, the philosophers' stone, miracle rings and wishing rings, magic hoods and winged cloaks, are all symbols of the treasure.


In this [the hero's] conflict the 'inner voice,' the command of the transpersonal father or father archetype who wants the world to change, collides with the personal father who speaks for the old law.  We know this conflict best from the Bible story of Jehovah's command to Abraham: 'Get thee out of thy country, and from thy kindred, and from thy father's house, unto a land that I will show thee' (Genesis 12:1), which the midrash interprets as meaning that Abraham is to destroy the gods of his father.  The message of Jesus is only an extension of the same conflict and it repeats itself in every revolution.  Whether the new picture of God and the world conflicts with an old picture, or with the personal father, is unimportant, for the father always represents the old order and hence also the old picture current in his cultural canon.


On the other hand, besides the archetypal image of the father, the personal father image also has a significance, though it is conditioned less by his individual person than by the character of the culture and the changing cultural values which he represents.  There is a broad resemblance between the mother figures of primitive, classical, medieval, and modern times; they remain embedded in nature.  But the father figure changes with the culture he represents.


In relation to the ego, the mother image has both a productive and a destructive aspect, but over and above that, it preserves a certain immutability and eternality.  Although it is two-faced and can assume many shapes, for the ego and consciousness it always remains the world of the origin, the world of the unconscious.  In general, therefore, the mother represents the instinctual side of life, which, compared with the changing positions of the ego and consciousness, proves to be constant and relatively unalterable, whether it be good or bad, helpful and productive, or hurtful and terrible.


Wundt characterizes the heroic age as the 'predominance of individual personality.'  This, he says, is what the hero represents; in fact he derives the divine figure from the hero, seeing in God only an intensified hero figure.


It must be emphasized yet again that the mythological fate of the hero portrays the archetypal fate of the ego and of all conscious development.  It serves as a model for the subsequent development of the collective, and its stages are recapitulated in the development of every child.


The phenomenon of psychic duality plainly expressed in Egyptian ritual and formulated theologically thousands of years later in the famous dialogue between Nicodemus and Christ is still alive today in the not uncommon feeling that one is a 'child of God,' although a son or daughter of Mr. X.  The dual parentage evidently corresponds to some duality in human nature, here represented by the hero.


The spiritual collective as we find it in all initiations and all secret societies, sects, mysteries, and religions is essentially masculine and, despite its communal character, essentially individual in the sense that each man is initiated as an individual and undergoes a unique experience that stamps his individuality.  This individual accent and the elect character of the group stand in marked contrast to the matriarchal group, where the archetype of the Great Mother and the corresponding stage of consciousness are dominant.  The opposed group of male societies and secret organizations is dominated by the archetype of the hero and by the dragon-fight mythology, which represents the next stage of conscious development.  The male collective is the source of all the taboos, laws, and institutions that are destined to break the dominance of the uroboros and Great Mother.  Heaven, the father, and the spirit go hand in hand with masculinity and represent the victory of the patriarchate over the matriarchate.  This is not to say that the matriarchate knows no law; but the law by which it is informed is the law of instinct, of unconscious, natural functioning, and this law subserves the propagation, preservation, and evolution of the species rather than the development of the single individual.


By freeing the captive and raising the treasure, a man gains possession of his soul's treasures, which are not just 'wishes,' i.e., images of something he has not got but would like to have, but possibilities, i.e., images of something he could have and ought to have.  The task of the hero, which is to 'awaken those sleeping images that can and must come forth from the night, in order to give the world a better face,' is far indeed from 'masturbation.'  And yet it is a preoccupation with oneself, a case of letting the libido stream inward, without a partner - a kind of masturbatory self-fertilization in the uroboric manner, which alone makes possible the creative process of psychic palingenesis or self-birth.


The masculine trend, however, is towards greater co-ordination of spirit, ego, consciousness, and will.  Because man discovers his true self in consciousness, and is a stranger to himself in the unconscious, which he must inevitably experience as feminine, the development of masculine culture means development of consciousness.


In the first place it is mankind itself, the collective, to whom the hero, just because he deviates from the human norm, appears as a hero and a divinely begotten being.  Secondly, the idea of the hero's intrinsically dual nature derives from his own experience of himself.  He is a human being like the others, mortal and collective like them, yet at the same time he feels himself a stranger to the community.  He discovers within himself something which, although it 'belongs' to him and is as it were part of him, he can only describe as strange, unusual, god-like.


Although the separation of the World Parents is, strictly speaking, an integral part of the hero myth, the developments which, at that stage, could only be represented in cosmic symbols now enter the phase of humanization and personality formation.  Thus the hero is the archetypal forerunner of mankind in general.  His fate is the pattern in accordance with which the masses of humanity must live, and always have lived, however haltingly and distantly; and however short of the ideal man they have fallen, the stages of the hero myth have become constituent elements in the personal development of every individual.


The meaning of ritual, irrespective of the useful effects which primitive man expects from it, lies precisely in strengthening the conscious system.  The magical forms by means of which archaic man comes to terms with his surroundings are, all other considerations apart, anthropocentric systems of world domination.  In his rituals he makes himself the responsible center of the cosmos; on him depends the rising of the sun, the fertility of crops, and all the doings of the gods.


Fear of the vengeance of the powers that be for the separation of the World Parents and for man's criminal emancipation from the power of the divine uroboros, this is the feeling of dread and guilt, this is the original sin, with which the history of mankind opens.


Ego formation can only proceed by way of distinction from the non-ego and consciousness only emerge where it detaches itself from what is unconscious; and the individual only arrives at individuation when he marks himself off from the anonymous collective.


In the great religions, the primal deed, the separation of the World Parents, is theologized.  An attempt is made to rationalize and moralize the undeniable sense of deficiency that attaches to the emancipated ego.  Interpreted as sin, apostasy, rebellion, disobedience, this emancipation is in reality the fundamental liberating act of man which releases him from the yoke of the unconscious and establishes him as an ego, a conscious individual.  But because this act, like every act and every liberation, entails sacrifice and suffering, the decision to take such a step is all the more momentous.


This being opposite and no longer contained in the womb is the dark feeling that pervades consciousness wherever the ego finds itself isolated and alone.\n\n It is the mark of man to be pitted against the world, it is his sorrow and his speciality; for what at first seems loss turns out a positive gain.  But not only that; on a higher level there falls to man, and to man alone, the essential mark of 'relatedness,' because he, as an individual, enters into relations with an object, be it another man, a thing, the world, his own soul, or God.


Ego consciousness not only brings a sense of loneliness; it also introduces suffering, toil, trouble, evil, sickness, and death into man's life as soon as these are perceived by an ego.  By discovering itself, the lonely ego simultaneously perceives the negative and relates to it, so that it at once establishes a connection between these two facts, taking its own genesis as guilt, and suffering, sickness, and death as condign punishment.  The whole life feeling of primitive man is haunted by the negative influences all around him, and at the same time by the consciousness that he is to blame for everything negative that befalls.


Through the heroic act of world creation and division of opposites, the ego steps forth from the creative magic circle of the uroboros and finds itself in a state of loneliness and discord.  With the emergence of the fully fledged ego, the paradisal situation is abolished; the infantile condition, in which life was regulated by something ampler and more embracing, is at an end, and with it the natural dependence on that ample embrace.  We may think of this paradisal situation in terms of religion, and say that everything was controlled by God; or we may formulate it ethically, and say that everything was still good and that evil had not yet come into the world.  Other myths dwell on the 'effortlessness' of the Golden Age, when nature was bountiful, and toil, suffering, and pain did not exist; others stress the 'everlastingness,' the deathlessness, of such an existence.


The transition from the uroboros to the adolescent stage was characterized by the emergence of fear and the death feeling, because the ego, not yet invested with full authority, felt the supremacy of the uroboros as an overwhelming danger.


Nor, as we have said, is the division between good and evil present in the beginning.  Man and world have not yet been divided into pure and impure, good and bad; there is at most the difference between that which works, is pregnant with mana and loaded with taboo, and that which does not work.  But what works is pre-eminent, beyond good and evil.


Man's original hermaphroditic disposition is still largely conserved in the child.  Without the disturbing influences from outside which foster the visible manifestation of sexual differences at an early date, children would just be children; and actively masculine features are in fact as common and effective in girls as are passively feminine ones in boys.  It is only cultural influences, whose differentiating tendencies govern the child's early upbringing, that lead to an identification of the ego with the monosexual tendencies of the personality and to the suppression, or repression, of one's congenital contrasexuality.\n\n The split between inside and outside in archaic man and the child is no more complete than that between good and evil.  The fancied playmate is real and unreal at once, like everything else, and the image in the dream as real as the reality outside.  Here the true 'Reality of the Soul' still holds sway, that versatile make-believe of which the wizardry of art and fairy tale is a reflection.  Here each of us can be all things, and so-called external reality has not yet made us forget the equally powerful reality within.


The activity of instinct lies behind actions which the ego coordinates with its sphere of decision and volition, and to an even higher degree instincts and archetypes are at the back of our conscious attitudes and orientations.  But, whereas in modern man there is at any rate the possibility of decision and conscious orientation, the psychology of archaic man and of the child is marked by a mingling of these spheres.  Volitions, moods, emotions, instincts, and somatic reactions are still for all practical purposes fused together.  The same applies to the original ambivalence of affects, which are later resoved into antithetical positions.  Love and hate, joy and sorrow, pleasure and pain, attraction and repulsion, yes and no, are at first juxtaposed and interfused, and do not possess the antithetical character they subsequently appear to have.\n\n Depth psychology has made the discovery that even today the opposites lie closer together and are more intimately connected than their actual degree of separation would lead one to suppose.  Not only in the neurotic, but in the normal person too, the poles are hard side by side; pleasure turns to pain, hate to love, sorrow to joy, far more readily than we would expect.  This can be seen most clearly in children.  Laughing and crying, starting a thing and then stopping it, liking and disliking follow fast on one another's heels.  No position is fixed, and none is a flat contradiction of its opposite, but both exist peaceably side by side and are realized in closest succession.  Influences stream in and out from all sides; environment, ego, and interior world, objective tendencies, consciousness, and bodily tendencies operate simultaneously, and all the while no ego worth mentioning, or only a very diminutive ego, arranges, centers, accepts and rejects.


Opposition between ego and body is, as we have said, an original condition.  Containment in the uroboros and its supremacy over the ego mean, on the bodily level, that ego and consciousness are at the outset continually at the mercy of the instincts, impulses, sensations, and reactions deriving from the world of the body.  To begin with, this ego, existing first as a point and then as an island, knows nothing of itself and consequently nothing of its difference.  As it grows stronger, it detaches itself more and more from the world of the body.  This leads finally, as we know, to a state of systematized ego consciousness where the entire bodily realm is to a large extent unconscious, and the conscious system is split off from the body as the representative of unconscious processes.  Through the split is not in effect so drastic as this, the illusion of it is so powerful and so real for the ego that the body region and the unconscious can only be rediscovered with a great effort.  In yoga, for instance, a strenuous attempt is made to reconnect the conscious mind with the unconscious bodily processes.


The ego and consciousness experience their own reality by distinguishing themselves from the body.  This is one of the fundamental facts of the human mind and its discovery of itself as something distinct from nature.  Early man is in the same case as the infant and the small child: his body and his 'inside' are part of an alien world.  The acquisition of voluntary muscular movement, i.e., the fact that the ego discovers, in its own 'person,' that its conscious will can control the body, may well be the basic experience at the root of all magic.  The ego, having its seat, as it were, in the head, in the cerebral cortex, and experiencing the nether regions of the body as something strange to it, an alien reality, gradually begins to recognize that essential portions of this nether corporeal world are subject to its will and volition.  It discovers that the 'sovereign power of thought' is a real and actual fact: the hand in front of my face, and the foot lower down, do what I will.  The obviousness of these facts should not blind us to the enormous impression which this very early discovery must make, and unquestionably has made, on every infantile ego nucleus.


In the myth of Narcissus, the ego, seeking to break the power of the unconscious through self-reflection, succumbs to a catastrophic self-love.  His suicidal death by drowning symbolizes the dissolution of ego consciousness, and the same thing is repeated in modern times in young suicides like Weininger and Seidel.  Seidel's book Bewusstsein als Verhängnis and the work of the misogynist Weininger bear the clear imprint of having been written by lovers of the Great Mother.  They are fatally fascinated by her, and even in the futile resistance they put up they are fulfilling their archetypal fate.


The youth struggling for self-consciousness now begins, in so far as he is an individual, to have a personal fate, and for him the Great Mother becomes the deadly and unfaithful mother.  She selects one young man after another to love and destroy.  In this way she becomes 'the harlot.'  The sacred prostitute - which is what the Great Mother really is, as the vessel of fertility - takes on the negative character of the fickle jade and destroyer.  With this, the great revaluation of the feminine begins its conversion into the negative, thereafter carried to extremes in the patriarchal religions of the West.  The growth of self-consciouness and the strengthening of masculinity thrust the image of the Great Mother into the background; the patriarchal society splits it up, and while only the picture of the good Mother is retained in consciousness, her terrible aspect is relegated to the unconscious*.\n\n *Author's footnote: The splitting of the Great Mother into a conscious 'good' mother and unconscious 'evil' one is a basic phenomenon in the psychology of neurosis.  The situation then is that consciously the neurotic has a 'good relation' to the mother, but in the gingerbread house of this love there is hidden the witch, who gobbles up little children and grants them, as a reward, a passive, irresponsible existence without an ego.  Analysis then uncovers the companion picture of the Terrible Mother, an awe-inspiring figure who with threats and intimidations puts a ban on sexuality.  The results are masturbation, real or symbolic impotence, self-castration, suicide, etc.  It makes no difference whether the picture of the Terrible Mother remains unconscious or is projected; in either case the very idea of coitus, of any connection with the female, will activate the fear of castration.'


The individual's view of the world changes with every stage of his development, and the variation of archetypes and symbols, gods and myths, is the expression, but also the instrument, of this change.


One's state of mind is the more dependent upon whether one is satisfied or not, or thirsty or not, the less one's consciousness and one's ego are developed.


Jung therefore defines the transpersonal - or the archetypes and instincts of the collective unconscious - as 'the deposit of ancestral experience.


Even today we can see from primitives that the law of gravity, the inertia of the psyche, the desire to remain unconscious, is a fundamental human trait.  Yet even this is a false formulation, since it starts from consciousness as though that were the natural and self-evident thing.  But fixation in unconsciousness, the downward drag of its specific gravity, cannot be called a desire to remain unconscious; on the contrary, that is the natural thing.  There is, as a counteracting force, the desire to become conscious, a veritable instinct impelling man in this direction.  One has no need to desire to remain unconscious; one is primarily unconscious and can at most conquer the original situation in which man drowses in the world, drowses in the unconscious, contained in the infinite like a fish in the environing sea.  The ascent toward consciousness is the 'unnatural' thing in nature; it is specific of the species Man, who on that account has justly styled himself Homo sapiens.  The struggle between the specifically human and the universally natural constitutes the history of man's conscious development.


The uroboros of the maternal world is life and psyche in one; it gives nourishment and pleasure, protects and warms, comforts and forgives.  It is the refuge for all suffering, the goal of all desire.  For always this mother is she who fulfills, the bestower and helper.  This living image of the Great and Good Mother has at all times of distress been the refuge of humanity and ever shall be; for the state of being contained in the whole, without responsibility or effort, with no doubts and no division of the world into two, is paradisal, and can never again be realized in its pristine happy-go-luckiness in adult life.


The time of the beginning, before the coming of the opposites, must be understood as the self-description of that great epoch when there was still no consciousness.  It is the wu chi of Chinese philosophy, whose symbol is the empty circle.  Everything is still in the 'now and for ever' of eternal being; sun, moon, and stars, these symbols of time and therefore of mortality, have not yet been created; and day and night, yesterday and tomorrow, genesis and decay, the flux of life and birth and death, have not yet entered into the world.  This prehistoric state of being is not time, but eternity, just as the time before the coming of man and before birth and begetting is eternity.  And just as there is no time before the birth of man and ego, only eternity, so there is no space, only infinity.


In the beginning is perfection, wholeness.  This original perfection can only be 'circumscribed,' or described symbolically; its nature defies any description other than a mythical one, because that which describes, the ego, and that which is described, the beginning, which is prior to any ego, prove to be incommensurable quantities as soon as the ego tries to grasp its object conceptually, as a content of consciousness.\n\n For this reason a symbol always stands at the beginning, the most striking feature of which is its multiplicity of meanings, its indeterminate and indeterminable character.


Creative evolution of ego consciousness means that, through a continuous process stretching over thousands of years, the conscious system has absorbed more and more unconscious contents and progressively extended its frontiers.


An investigation of the archetypal stages also affords a better psychological orientation in a number of ancillary subjects, e.g., the history of religion, anthropology, folk psychology, and the like.  All these can then be brought together on a psycho-evolutionary basis which would promote a deeper understanding.


The action of the ego in separating the World Parents is a struggle, a creative act, and in later sections devoted to the fight with the dragon we shall give prominence to this aspect, and also to the decisive change of personality that follows from this resolve to overcome the danger.\n\n For the moment, however, we shall concern ourselves with the other aspect of this deed: the fact that it is experienced as guilt, and moreover as original guilt, a fall.  But first we have to discuss the emotional situation, and to understand that this deed, though it manifests itself as the coming of light, and as the creation of the world and consciousness, is vitiated by a sense of suffering and loss so strong as almost to offset the creative gain.


Perseus defeats the unconscious (symbolized by the Gorgon) through the typical act of conscious realization.  He would not be strong enough to gaze directly upon the petrifying face of the uroboros, so he raises its image to consciousness and kills it 'by reflection.