1 6 2 Y T H E R E D B O O K J A M E S T R I L L I N G Carl Gustav Jung (1875–1961), the Swiss psychologist and cultural theorist, was one of the most controversial thinkers of the twentieth century. For some people, his model of the human mind, including such concepts as archetypes, the animus/anima, and the collective unconscious, provides a basis for both individual psychotherapy and cultural interpretation on a grand scale. Others dismiss his work as fanciful. In such a polarized realm I would like to make my position clear from the start. I am not a Jungian. This is not a matter of psychoanalytic ideology – I am not a Freudian either – but of scholarly lineage. If similar literary, artistic or ritual motifs occur thousands of miles or thousands of years apart, most modern scholars are trained to see that as a beginning not an end, a question not an answer. Jung, in contrast, believed that certain symbols – not just the capacity for symbolic thought, but the symbols themselves – are somehow innate to human minds, forming a commonality that T h e R e d B o o k ( L i b e r N o v u s ) , by C. G. Jung, edited by Sonu Shamdasani, translated by Mark Kyburg, John Peck, and Sonu Shamdasani (Norton, 416 pages, $195) 1 6 3 R transcends all the specifics of artistic convention, language, religious belief, and historical circumstance. Similar forms in dissimilar contexts were, for him, neither more nor less than particularly striking instances of this commonality. Although I recognize and often envy the mingled sense of wonder and belonging that this approach can generate, I am firmly committed to the other camp. Jung is best understood as a thinker in the late-nineteenthcentury mold – a younger contemporary of Sir James Frazer, author of The Golden Bough (first published 1890). Like others of that time, Jung followed a universalizing impulse, seeking – and less typically, finding – a ‘‘grand unified theory’’ of the mind and its expressions. Science may eventually tell us whether he was right or wrong – if the answer matters by then: few people today care whether Frazer was right about the historical role of fertility worship. Meanwhile, Jung’s synchronic, mythopoeic vision of the mind continues to claim a small but strategic corner of twentiethcentury thought. In addition to a very extensive body of publications, Jung left a remarkable unpublished work. Half a century after his death, his descendants chose to publish it at last, in lavish facsimile. We have good reason to thank them. The Red Book (its ‘‘o≈cial’’ title was Liber Novus, or The New Book) is the record of a psychological and spiritual crisis – what he later called his ‘‘confrontation with the unconscious’’ – and shows in detail how a psychological pioneer handled the tumult of his own mind. It also showcases Jung’s talent as a visual artist. The crisis began when Jung was thirty-eight years old and a successful, innovative psychiatrist in Zurich. It happened in October of the year 1913 as I was leaving alone for a journey, that during the day I was suddenly overcome in broad daylight by a vision: I saw a terrible flood that covered all the northern and low-lying lands between the North Sea and the Alps. It reached from England up to Russia, and from the coast of the North Sea right up to the Alps. I saw yellow waves, swimming rubble, and the death of countless thousands. The vision lasted for two hours, it confused me and made meill.Iwasnotabletointerpretit.Twoweekspassedthenthe 1 6 4 T R I L L I N G Y vision returned, still more violent than before, and an inner voice spoke. ‘‘Look at it, it is completely real, and it will come to pass. You cannot doubt this.’’ I wrestled again for two hours with this vision, but it held me fast. It left me exhausted and confused. And I thought my mind had gone crazy. From then on the anxiety toward the terrible event that stood directly before us kept coming back. Once I also...
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