There is always a Beginning to Grasp the Whole! P. 1

One day, as I browsed my bookshelf, a heavy volume suddenly fell into my hands — it was the Collected Works (die Gesammelten Werke) of Sigmund Freud, a book I had almost forgotten. I had read some of Freud’s writings, especially during my time in Iran, but later I became deeply engaged with Jung’s work. When I opened the book, it felt as though a whisper told me that this was the foundation — something I hadn’t known before. I started reading, and it turned out to be completely true!

Sigmund Freud was an Austrian neurologist, the founder of psychoanalysis, and a pioneer in exploring the hidden aspects of the human mind, particularly the unconscious. He developed a clinical method to assess and treat psychological conflicts arising from inner struggles through patient-analyst dialogue, along with a unique theory of mind and human agency grounded in this approach.

I reached a point where understanding Sigmund Freud and his work would enhance our grasp of Carl Gustav Jung. Freud acts as the key unlocking the door into the unconscious, while Jung is the train guiding us through the hidden depths of our souls!

Therefore, I decided to translate and share his insights on communicating knowledge and experience, beginning with dreams and dream interpretation: The scientific literature on dream issues (Die wissenschaftliche Literatur der Traumprobleme). I will start with his scientific explanation—(a brief summary, of course, to keep it concise)—to help it be better understood.

The scientific literature on dream problems

In the following pages, I will show that a psychological technique exists for interpreting dreams, revealing each as a meaningful psychic construct linked to waking life. I will explain the processes behind dream strangeness and draw conclusions about the psychic forces involved. My presentation concludes by linking the problem of dreaming to broader issues that require other sources. I begin with a review of past research and current understanding, noting that little progress has been made despite centuries of effort. The existing literature offers insight and interesting material, but few definitive answers about dreams. Even educated laypeople have limited knowledge.

The first work to treat dreams as a psychological object is Aristotle’s On Dreams and Their Interpretation. He states that dreams are of a demonic, not divine, nature, but can reveal profound meanings if correctly interpreted. Aristotle notes characteristics such as dreams reinterpreting minor stimuli as large ones, suggesting they might show early signs of bodily changes unnoticed during the day. Due to limited knowledge, I haven’t deepened my understanding of his treatise. Before Aristotle, the ancients saw dreams as divine inspiration, distinguishing true dreams that warn or foretell from false, deceptive ones meant to mislead or harm. This view aligned with their worldview, projecting internal reality onto the external world. They believed dreams came from another world and considered their supernatural origin plausible, a view still held by some today, including mystical writers and certain philosophers such as Schellingians. The debate over dreams’ divinatory power continues, as scientific explanations remain insufficient to account for all dream phenomena.

Writing a history of our understanding of dream problems is difficult because, despite its value in certain areas, no clear progress is visible. No foundational results exist for future researchers to build on; instead, each author starts anew, as if from scratch. If I followed a chronological account of authors’ views, I couldn’t provide a clear overview of current dream knowledge. Thus, I structured the discussion by topic, citing the relevant literature to each dream problem.

Since I haven’t covered all scattered and extensive literature, I ask readers to be modest, assuming no fundamental facts or significant aspects are lost.

Until recently, most authors treated sleep and dreams together, often including analogous states like hallucinations or visions. Recently, work has focused more narrowly on specific questions within dream life. This shift reflects a belief that clear understanding and consensus require detailed investigations. I offer only such psychological investigation here, excluding sleep, which is mainly physiological, though sleep-related changes in mental function are acknowledged.

Freud (assuming these are his words) highlights that psychoanalysis and psychotherapy aim to uncover repressed, unconscious memories and create a supportive environment where these ‘traumas’ can be expressed through language and contact. Whether he explicitly said these words is irrelevant, as his writings demonstrate that he held these beliefs.

The scientific interest in dream phenomena prompts several overlapping questions:

The relationship between dreams and waking life (Beziehung des Traumes zum Wachleben)

The naive judgement of the awakened person assumes that the dream—if it does not originate in another world—has at least transported the sleeper to one. The old physiologist Burdach, to whom we owe a careful and subtle description of dream phenomena, expressed this conviction in a much-noted sentence (p. 474): “…the life of the day, with its efforts and pleasures, its joys and sorrows, is never repeated; rather, the dream aims to free us from them. Even if our whole soul has been filled with an object, if deep pain has torn our inner being, or a task has consumed all our mental power, the dream either gives us something entirely alien, or it takes only individual elements from reality for its combinations, or it merely adopts the tone of our mood and symbolises reality.”

L. Strümpell expresses a similar sentiment in his rightly acclaimed study of the nature and origin of dreams (p. 16): “Whoever dreams is turned away from the world of waking consciousness”… (p. 17): “In dreams, the memory of the ordered content of waking consciousness and its normal behaviour is almost entirely lost…” (p. 19): “The almost memoryless isolation of the soul in dreams from the regular content and course of waking life…”

However, the vast majority of authors have held the opposite view on the relationship between dreams and waking life. For example, Haffner (p. 19) states: “First of all, dreams continue waking life. Our dreams always connect to the ideas that were present in our consciousness shortly beforehand. Close observation will almost always find a thread in which the dream linked to the experiences of the previous day.” Weygandt (p. 6) directly contradicts Burdach’s assertion quoted above, “for it can often be observed, apparently in the vast majority of dreams, that they lead us right back into ordinary life, instead of freeing us from it.” Maury (Le sommeil et les rêves, p. 56) states in a concise formula: “nous rêvons de ce que nous avons vu, dit, desiré ou fait”(We dream of what we have seen, said, desired, or done.); Jessen, in his psychology published in 1855 (p. 530), elaborates somewhat more: “More or less, the content of dreams is always determined by the individual personality, by age, gender, social class, level of education, accustomed way of life, and by the events and experiences of the entire life to date.”

To be continued! 🙏💖

Human Values are not Rooted in the Possession of Power!

I am writing another post on politics because I believe it is a relevant issue in our current lives and a crucial concept for shaping society in the best way for everyone. This time, I selected a section from Plato’s book, The Republic, to learn from and reflect on what it should or wishes to be, as I consider it timeless. It explores how Plato analyses the motivations for seeking power, the risks of selfish ambition, and his concept of philosopher-kings who govern out of duty and virtue instead of personal gain. The essay emphasises Plato’s view that genuine political authority should prioritise justice and the common good over individual interests.

Carl Jung interpreted Plato’s politics, especially in The Republic, not as literal plans but as symbols of the collective unconscious. He regarded Plato’s “Forms” as psychic archetypes, with the “ideal state” shaping human qualities such as vision, wisdom, and power in the external world. Jung believed these political ideas originated from the “collective unconscious,” where perfect Forms such as justice exist. He also saw the ideal state as a psychological model, with the philosopher-king symbolising the self and social classes representing parts of the soul. By viewing Platonism as psychology, Jung considered himself a successor to Plato, identifying the “Forms” as archetypal patterns within the psyche. Additionally, he saw the “Cave” allegory as a way to convey deep psychological truths that are otherwise hard to express.

Plato’s Republic is a foundational text of Western philosophy, exploring justice, the ideal state, and political power. The dialogue examines what motivates individuals to seek power and how societal structures can corrupt or uplift those in authority. Plato, through Socrates, argues that the desire for power is often driven by basic urges—such as ambition, greed, and personal gain. However, he maintains that true power should serve the common good rather than personal interests. The philosopher-kings in Plato’s city are chosen for wisdom, virtue, and reluctance to rule, not for a craving for power. Plato believes the best rulers govern out of duty and justice, and warns against unchecked power, which can lead to tyranny. He emphasises education and virtue, claiming that only those who transcend personal desires are fit to hold power responsibly. Ultimately, the Republic views power as a moral duty, not an end in itself, aimed at justice and societal harmony. It urges reconsideration of who should rule, emphasising leadership for the greater good rather than personal gain.
Yet recently, it seems we have strayed from this goal!

The Pursuit of Political Authority in Plato’s Republic.

These passages from Plato’s Republic, spoken by Socrates, contend that the main goal of a craft—such as medicine or architecture—is to serve its subject, not the craftsman. Income (pay) comes from a separate, related “fee-earning art,” rather than the craft itself. [Thrasymachus was a Chalcedonian (from Chalcedon on the Bosphorus, near Byzantium), active around 430-400 B.C. He was a sophist and rhetorician, best known for arguing that “Justice is the interest of the stronger.”] (Oxford Classical Dictionary 2e)

It might seem like a complex philosophical argument, but Socrates has always aimed to clarify his reasoning through detailed questioning to make it easier to understand. I hope you find this reading enjoyable!

Event Date: -425 GR

(§ 346d) The receiving of wages does not accrue to each from his own art. But if we are to consider it ‘precisely’, medicine produces health but the fee-earning art the pay, and architecture a house but the fee-earning art accompanying it the fee, and so with all the others, each performs its own task and benefits that over which it is set, but unless pay is added to it is there any benefit which the craftsman receives from the craft?”

(§ 346e) “Apparently not,” he said. “Does he then bestow no benefit either when he works for nothing?”I’ll say he does.”
“Then, Thrasymachus, is not this immediately apparent, that no art or office provides what is beneficial for itself, but as we said long ago, it provides and enjoins what is beneficial to its subject, considering the advantage of that, the weaker, and not the advantage of the stronger? That was why, friend Thrasymachus, I was just now saying that no one of his own will chooses to hold rule and office and take other people’s troubles in hand to straighten them out, but everybody expects pay for that,

(§ 347a) because he who is to exercise the art rightly never does what is best for himself or enjoins it when he gives commands according to the art, but what is best for the subject. That is the reason, it seems, why pay must be provided for those who are to consent to rule, either in the form of money or honour or a penalty if they refuse.”
“What do you mean by that, Socrates?” said Glaucon. “The two wages I recognise, but the penalty you speak of and described as a form of wage I don’t understand.”
“Then,” said I, “you don’t understand the wages of the best men…

(§ 347b) for the sake of which the finest spirits hold office and rule when they consent to do so. Don’t you know that to be covetous of honour and covetous of money is said to be and is a reproach?”
“I do,” he said. “Well, then,” said I, “that is why the good are not willing to rule either for the sake of money or of honour. They do not wish to collect pay openly for their service of rule and be styled hirelings, nor to take it by stealth from their office and be called thieves, nor yet for the sake of honour,

(§ 347c) for they are not covetous of honour. So, some compulsion and penalty must be imposed to constrain them to rule if they are to consent to hold office. That is perhaps why to seek office oneself and not await compulsion is thought disgraceful. But the chief penalty is to be governed by someone worse if a man will not himself hold office and rule. It is from fear of this, as it appears to me, that the better sort hold office when they do, and then they go to it not in the expectation of enjoyment nor as to a good thing, but as to a necessary evil and because they are unable to turn it over to better men than themselves…

(§ 347d) or to their like. For we may venture to say that, if there should be a city of good men only, immunity from office-holding would be as eagerly contended for as office is now, and there it would be made plain that in very truth the true ruler does not naturally seek his own advantage but that of the ruled; so that every man of undjusticeing would rather choose to be benefited by another than to be bothered with benefiting him. This point, then, I…

(§ 347e) by no means concede to Thrasymachus that justice is the advantage of the superior. But we will reserve that for another occasion. A far weightier matter, to me, seems to be Thrasymachus’s present statement, his assertion that the life of the unjust man is better than that of the just. Which now do you choose, Glaucon?” said I, “and which seems to you to be the truer statement?”
“That the life of the just man is more profitable, I say,” he replied.

‘Defensiveness’ from Feminist Perspective on Resistance

Today, I want to share a throwback to one of my Facebook posts from a few weeks ago, of course, more extensive, perhaps for a change, and because of this fascinating woman in the history of psychology.
Actually, I’ve also been considering writing about Sigmund Freud, the originator of psychoanalysis, and this might be a good starting point.

Honestly, I previously didn’t know much about Anna Freud, or rather, I didn’t think highly of her. However, after watching the film ‘Freud’s Last Session‘ about Sigmund Freud’s final days, her brief appearance still caught my attention.

Anna Freud was a trailblazing psychoanalyst who made significant contributions to child psychology. Born in Vienna in 1895, the youngest daughter of Sigmund Freud, she grew up in an intellectually stimulating environment. She was deeply interested in her father’s work and eventually became his close collaborator. Originally trained as a teacher, Anna developed a keen interest in children’s development. In the 1920s, she began psychoanalytic training and started working with children, establishing Vienna’s first child psychoanalysis clinic in 1927. At this clinic, she developed innovative observation and treatment methods. Her influential book, “The Ego and the Mechanisms of Defence” (1936), built on her father’s theories by explaining how the ego defends against anxiety through mechanisms such as repression and denial. Fleeing the Nazis in 1938, she settled in London, where she co-founded the Hampstead Child Therapy Course and Clinic, a prominent centre for child psychoanalysis. Anna emphasised the importance of observing children in their natural settings and customising therapy to each child’s needs. Her contributions remain influential in psychoanalysis and child psychology, setting new standards through her research and clinical work.

Anna Freud with her father, Sigmund, 1928 near Berlin (picture alliance / Mary Evans Picture Library)

In her 1936 work “The Ego and the Mechanisms of Defence,” Anna Freud identified defence mechanisms as unconscious protections employed by the ego. These mechanisms serve to shield individuals from anxiety, shame, and the instinctual urges of the id that the superego prohibits. Among the major defence mechanisms are repression, projection, reaction formation, regression, and sublimation.

In the film mentioned above, I noticed she had no relationships with men. There is no public or scholarly evidence regarding her sexuality. She never married but had close relationships with women, especially Dorothy Burlingham, her lifelong partner and collaborator. Some biographers speculate about their relationship, but Anna Freud never publicly discussed her sexuality, and no records confirm whether she was lesbian, bisexual, or otherwise. Her private life was discreet, centred on work and family. Any discussion of her sexuality is largely speculative, based on personal correspondence and life choices.

Children have an almost uncanny instinct for the teacher’s personal shortcomings.
They know the false from the true far better than one likes to admit.
Therefore, the teacher should monitor his own psychic condition so he can spot the source of trouble when anything goes wrong with the children entrusted to his care.
Civilisation in Transition (The Collected Works of C. G. Jung, Volume 10)

via Carl Jung DepthPsychology 🙏

Thank you all for your support and presence. Wishing you a peaceful weekend. 🙏🌹

What a Pity!

As I hover over the news and feel the hangover from all this stress, I give my mind another chance to relax by jotting down a few words.
Of course, I didn’t swear an oath to post every week (like some, daily; oh my goodness, save me!😛). However, as I mentioned in my last post, I need to talk to my “Patient Stone” to help me gather my scattered thoughts.

Honestly, I have numerous projects and ideas to pursue and share, but my busy mind is too preoccupied to concentrate on them. On the other hand, I had to delete many of my old posts because WP warned me that my 13 GB storage limit was full, leaving me with the choice of upgrading or deleting. Since I couldn’t afford to upgrade, I had no option but to delete them. Now I have some space to post more!

I think, as well as believe, that the animals have their own characters and, in their own instinctual life, have their own species-specific way of living, even though we compare some of them, like sheep, with humans in the form of messes.

Dr Jung viewed “mass-mindedness” and mass psychology as perilous, believing crowds trigger “the dynamisms of the collective man,” transforming individuals into “beasts or demons” until they join a mob. Crowds diminish morality, incite fears, provoke “infantile behaviour,” and can cause even the most virtuous to lose their significance, resulting in “psychologically abnormal” individuals. Mobs foster “herd psychology” and produce “mass man,” who is childish, irrational, irresponsible, and emotional. The crowd dissolves personal responsibility, facilitating crimes and increasing reliance on the state.

The levelling down of the masses through suppression of the aristocratic or hierarchical structure natural to a community is bound, sooner or later, to lead to disaster. For when everything outstanding is levelled down, the signposts are lost, and the longing to be led becomes an urgent necessity.
~Carl Jung, CW 17, Para 248

Now, I’d like to share one of my Facebook posts that reflects my thoughts. It is a poem by Lawrence Ferlinghetti, a notable American poet, painter, and social activist. Ferlinghetti published works of many Beat poets and is sometimes considered a Beat poet himself, although he never liked that label!

You are Whitman, you are Poe, you are Mark Twain, you are Emily Dickinson and Edna St. Vincent Millay, you are Neruda and Mayakovsky and Pasolini, you are an American or a non-American, you can conquer the conquerors with words….
~ Lawrence Ferlinghetti. From Poetry as Insurgent Art [I am signalling you through the flames].

Pity the Nation (After Khalil Gibran)

Pity the nation whose people are sheep
And whose shepherds mislead them
Pity the nation whose leaders are liars
Whose sages are silenced
and whose bigots haunt the airways
Pity the nation that raises not its voice
but aims to rule the world
by force and by torture
And knows
No other language but its own
Pity the nation whose breath is money
and sleeps the sleep of the too well fed
Pity the nation, oh, pity the people of my country
My country, tears of thee
Sweet land of liberty!

I’d also like to share one of Mozart’s greatest works, a requiem, to comfort the spirits. Wishing all individuals friends a peaceful time. 💖🙏

Searching for the Eternal Girl/Boy P. 3 Puella Aeterna/Puer Aeternus and Corne/Senex

I’ll borrow life and not grow old;
And nightingales and trees
Shall keep me, though the veins be cold,
As young as Sophocles.
And when I may no longer live,
They’ll say, who knows the truth,
He gave whate’er he had to give
To Freedom and to Youth.
~William Corey, Master at Eton c. 1850-1870

Success achieved, he never stays
For only by never staying does he not depart.
~Dao Tzu, Dao De Jing.
From Now or Neverland, p. 156

In this third part, let’s revisit the inspiring book, Now or Neverland, which motivated me to write these articles.

Here’s a brief essay on Now or Neverland by Ann Yeoman:

Ann Yeoman’s book “Now or Neverland: Peter Pan and the Myth of Eternal Youth” analyses the enduring charm of J.M. Barrie’s story, emphasising its psychological and mythological elements. She interprets Neverland as a metaphor for humanity’s longing to escape time and mortality. Yeoman considers Peter Pan an archetype embodying wonder and the peril of avoiding growth.
She explains that Neverland represents the myth of eternal youth—a place where responsibilities cease. This dream enables Peter to evade adult challenges but also leads him to miss meaningful relationships and personal development. Her study suggests Barrie’s tale celebrates youth but also warns against escapism.
In “Now or Neverland,” Yeoman encourages reflection on individual perceptions of time, change, and maturation, transforming a children’s story into a profound meditation on memory, imagination, and ageing.

Yesterday, I attended a birthday party for a dear family member, where my grandchildren were also present. I hadn’t seen them in a long time due to my illness and hospital stay. As always, I was the only adult the kids enjoyed playing with, because they knew the child in me well. It reminded me of what Yeoman mentioned in her book:

…Paradoxically, whereas lightness, freedom and space may be the necessary conditions for play, play itself is far from light, in that it has the capacity to ground one in the wholeness of one’s being. In a discussion of the importance of play in childhood, Anthony Stevens cites Johan Huizinga’s claim, in Homo Ludens, his work on the subject of play, that “in play there is something ‘at play’ which transcends the immediate needs of life.” This is because the archetypal activities of human life are filled with possibilities for play. Notes Stevens:

Hence, Schiller’s famous aphorism, “Man is only truly himself when he is at play.”
… Childhood is a period of immense vitality and inventiveness, when imagination is given free rein to complement the realities or compensate for the deficiencies of everyday existence…
It is one of the misfortunes of growing up that we readily lose touch with this rich land of childhood … Yet nothing is lost to the Self, and play, like the child who sponsors it, lives on as a propensity of the psyche to its dying day. (250On Jung, pp. 87f.)

What is of particular interest in our discussion of Barrie is Stevens’s emphasis that fantasy, as introverted play,

is the product of play between the archetypes of the collective unconscious and the living circumstances of the individual. . . . Fantasy is not a regressive means of escape from reality . . . but the modus operandi of psychological growth: it is the stuff of life, leading us on into the future. (251 Ibid., pp. 88f.)

Play and fantasy lead us into the future because they make us creators. They legitimise our re-formation and re-creation of the world, allowing us to remember and so re-deem the scattered fragments of ordinary life. They make us gods for an hour or a day, enabling an activity which affirms our sense of Self because it affords unlimited scope to our desire for realisation, fulfilment and creative power in a world of our own making that is secret and therefore safe. The task of the artist is then to establish a vital connection between the hidden world of possibility and the world of actuality.

However, according to Winnicott, the “place” of play and fantasy is precarious, “because it belongs to the interplay in the . . . mind of that which is subjective (near-hallucination) and that which is objectively perceived (actual or shared reality).” (Playing and Reality, p. 61)

…This place is the No-man’s land, an intermediary realm of the imagination that the artist must continually interpret and re-interpret. Here, one might encounter the god-child, buried deep in the personality. The challenge for the writer, like Barrie, who feels more at home in the imaginal realm, is to interpret such experiences within the real world. But in Peter Pan, Barrie’s two worlds remain as opposed at the end as at the beginning, with no space in the Edwardian world for the richness found in Neverland. Ultimately, Barrie cannot show that reality offers room for self-fulfilment, unlike other children’s classics such as Grahame’s The Wind in the Willows or Milne’s Winnie-the-Pooh.

In Barrie, there’s an apparent devaluation of cosy domesticity and an iconoclastic streak visible in his work, especially in Peter Pan and other heroes resembling Peter’s mysterious presence. We find in Peter Pan the masculine energy of the trickster, a mythic figure known as a lawbreaker who embodies instinctual desires. (Barbara Greenfield, “The Archetypal Masculine,” in Andrew Samuels, ed., The Father, p. 192.)

The trickster often marks an early stage in the development of the heroic ego, reflecting nature’s transformative power while resisting change. Barrie’s hero also resists transformation, with little evidence of active sexuality or development beyond a boy-trickster to a mature hero or Wise Old Man. Instead, Peter Pan’s iconoclasm risks becoming an idol of boyish rebellion for its own sake.

(Ibid., p. 191. Greenfield argues that “The boy, Don Juan, and the trickster show us the ego in its early stages of development, while the hero, the father and the wise old man represent later stages of development. As a whole, the animus, or male archetype, unifies these disparate figures because it exists as those principles which underlie them all.” She suggests that the most powerful mythological forms of the masculine archetype are those of the father and the trickster, claiming the trickster as “an early incarnation of the father” rather than an archetype separate from that of the father, as it is treated by Jung. Her view supports our earlier discussion of the inherent similarities of Peter Pan and Hook and is useful when individual development and personal pathology are the issue. However, what we may describe as the “creative iconoclasm” of the Self in its impulse to further consciousness favours Jung’s treatment of the trickster and his recognition of its essential and constant role in the archetypal drama of the psyche. Perhaps this presents a case for “both/and” rather than “either/or” terminology; and for a concept of co-existing levels of activity rather than a more linear development from one stage to the next, with only faint traces of earlier characteristics evident in the later stages.)

Remember to cherish the child within you; thank you! 🙏

Edgar Allan Poe and Herman Melville

Hello friends!

I am back for a while from my holiday trip, although I am not fully recovered from a cold I caught a week ago, which I am still fighting to get rid of (it seems my immune system has been damaged after that problem earlier this year!). I didn’t plan to make a post today, but when I came across an article about the relationship between Poe and Melville, which I didn’t know about, I thought I would share it with you. Indeed, I should mention that I once published an article on Allan Poe; here it is!

As a new New Yorker, I once travelled across three boroughs to Woodlawn Cemetery to visit Herman Melville’s grave. I didn’t worship him as a hero but as a friend. Through the words of Professor Angela O’Donnell, who says that reading great writers is like having a conversation with them and fosters intimacy, I promised to visit often. Still, I was distracted by city life and never went back. However, a friend of another 19th-century American author never missed a visit.
The Baltimore Sun reports that, for decades, an anonymous “Poe Toaster” left three roses and a bottle of cognac at Edgar Allan Poe’s grave every January 19th. His mystery remains unsolved, as does Poe’s own death.

On October 7, 1849, the literary community remembered Edgar Allan Poe, a master of the macabre whose death remains shrouded in mystery. Although his anniversary has passed, his short, tragic life and death remain deeply saddening. He was found delirious on Baltimore’s streets, and the exact cause of his death remains unclear, speculated to be linked to alcoholism, rabies, or other health issues.

In the days leading up to his death, Poe grappled with personal turmoil and bouts of depression, reflecting the dark themes prevalent in his writing. His life mirrored the tragedies he explored—loss, madness, and mortality.

As we remember Poe, we not only honour his legacy as a pioneering voice in Gothic literature but also reflect on the profound connections between art and the struggles of existence, inviting us to confront the deeper aspects of the human condition he so eloquently captured.

The relationship between Edgar Allan Poe and Herman Melville is a compelling exploration of two iconic figures in American literature, whose works have shaped literary history. Both authors are monumental, yet their life paths and artistic styles diverged significantly, revealing profound themes of existentialism and the complexities of the human experience.

Edgar Allan Poe, born in 1809 in Boston, faced a tumultuous early life marked by personal tragedies. Orphaned as a child, he experienced the pain of loss that profoundly influenced his writing. His struggles with poverty and alcoholism fueled the dark themes in his work. Masterfully crafted tales such as “The Raven,” “The Tell-Tale Heart,” and “The Fall of the House of Usher” explore death, madness, and despair, establishing Poe as a master of horror and Gothic literature.

In contrast, Herman Melville, born in 1819 in New York City, enjoyed a more privileged upbringing that was disrupted by his father’s early death. This formative loss set him on a path of adventure at sea, which culminated in his magnum opus, “Moby-Dick.” Melville’s works engage with grand themes of nature and humanity, showcasing a narrative style that embodies the complexities of existence and human ambition.

Despite their differences, Melville and Poe respected each other’s literary talents. Poe’s sharp critiques of Melville’s early works, such as “Typee,” acknowledged Melville’s gift while highlighting differences in their narrative styles. Poe favoured compact storytelling, while Melville embraced sprawling narratives laden with existential questions.

Both writers engaged with themes of death and isolation, particularly evident in Melville’s Captain Ahab, who mirrors the psychological depths of Poe’s characters. Their respective narratives challenge audiences to confront profound aspects of the human condition. Timing also affected their careers; though Poe achieved fame earlier, Melville’s “Moby-Dick” was initially overlooked, though it would eventually be recognised as a key literary work.

Ultimately, the legacies of both authors flourished posthumously, with Poe celebrated for his innovative contributions to literature and Melville emerging as a foundational figure. This interplay between the two writers encourages contemporary readers to explore the connections that define their works.

In conclusion, the relationship between Poe and Melville offers a striking study of contrasting yet complementary voices in American literature. Their distinct views on existential despair and the human experience create a rich tapestry that continues to inspire and intrigue, leaving a lasting impact on generations of writers and readers alike.

Thanks, and have a good time, everybody.

Searching for the Eternal Girl/Boy P. 2 Puella Aeterna/Puer Aeternus and Corne/Senex

The dynamic principle of fantasy is play, a characteristic also of the child, and as such, it appears inconsistent with the principle of serious work. But without this playing with fantasy, no creative work has ever yet come to birth. The debt we owe to the play of imagination is incalculable. It is, therefore, short-sighted to treat fantasy, on account of its risky or unacceptable nature, as a thing of little worth.
~Carl Jung; Psychological Types Ch. 1; Page 82.
Fantasy is the creative function—the living form is a result of fantasy. Fantasy is a pre-stage of the symbol, but it is an essential characteristic of the symbol that it is not mere fantasy.
~Carl Jung, 1925 Seminar, Page 11
Source: Carl Jung Depth Psychology

Continuing from the first part of my blog, I recall the days when Al and I created our own worlds, feeling utterly disconnected from the outside world. My childhood was filled with dreams and wishes, driven by my imagination and a touch of fantasy. Perhaps it was my name that ignited my desire to make my wishes come true, with a hint of magic.

On the other hand, I didn’t want to be treated like a child. I don’t know what the issue was; maybe it was because I’d been isolated at that age. I mean, there we were, a group of five boys, Al and me, including three cousins, all nearly the same age. One of the cousins, Ham, who was around Al’s age, about two years older than me, and the other two were roughly two years younger than me, and I was stuck in the middle.

As I remember, one evening in Mashhad, when we were visiting our aunt, we were playing hide and seek — a game like ‘catch me if you can find me!’ I was so engrossed in the game that I didn’t notice Al and Ham were missing. At first, when I caught my breath from running around to find a hiding spot, I thought, ‘What’s going on with me?’ and scolded myself for acting like a child. But then I got angry when I found out Al and Ham weren’t playing with us – they were off to see a movie, and I wanted to be there with them so badly! In the evening, when we gathered again, Al and Ham began by making a reference and a joke about the movie, which I remember was called Madame. This made me feel jealous and sad. It was so obvious that my mother recognised it and tried to comfort me, but to me, her effort was like giving milk to a crying infant! So I felt even more alone and forsaken.

In Ann Yeoman’s book, we can read:
…In terms of personality traits, a strong emotional attachment to what we may call the mother-realm manifests on the one hand in a certain preciousness, a sense of specialness and difference, a fictional example of which we see in James Joice’s young hero Stephen, who is always “on the fringe,” a little apart from his fellows, an isolate. On the other hand, when out of the province of the mother and, metaphorically, the reach of the mother’s watchful eye, the mother’s son experiences an incapacity to stand on his own and embrace the risks, challenges and unpredictable fullness of life, or realise the courage “to live, to err, to fall, to triumph, to recreate life out of life,”> to cite Joice once again>(A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Amn, p. 172).
As a result, the puer remains dissociated from his feelings. In order to shield himself unconsciously from suffering, he protects himself from the possibility of abandonment, rejection and disappointment with an array of defences which prevent him from fully committing himself to life in the first place.
Jung describes the neurosis of such a “mother’s boy” in terms of a “secret conspiracy between mother and so…. [in which] each helps the other to betray life” He continues:

Where does the guilt lie? With the mother, or with the son? Probably with both. The unsatisfied longing of the son for life and the world ought to be taken seriously. There is in him a desire to touch reality, to embrace the earth and fructify the field of the world.
But he makes no more than a series of fitful starts, for his initiative as well as his staying power are crippled by the secret memory that the world and happiness may be had as a gift from the mother. The fragment of the world which he, like every man, must encounter again and again is never quite the right one, since it does not fall into his lap, does not meet him halfway, but remains resistant, has to be conquered, and submits only to force.
It makes demands on the masculinity of a man, on his ardour, above all on his courage and resolution when it comes to throwing his whole being into the scales. For this, he would need a faithless Eros, one capable of forgetting his mother and undergoing the pain of relinquishing the first love of his life.
~Carl Jung, The Syzygy, Anima & Animus, Aion, CW 9ii, par. 20-21

I may laugh at that event now, but as I recall every detail, it seems it left a particular impression on me. I know I wanted to be noticed and taken seriously. However, my mother, as she always had, saw me as her lost daughter. That’s why, when I finally found my solitude, it was mostly when I woke early in the morning in my bed and looked out of the window into the street, where the summer breeze made the leaves of the poplar tree dance. I immersed myself in my fantasy world and let my imagination run freely.

I will definitely try to write another episode.🙏💖

Searching for the Eternal Girl/Boy P. 1 Puella Aeterna/Puer Aeternus and Corne/Senex

Does fantasy lead to escape, or to the embracing of a new perspective? In other words, does it support psychic growth or impede it? That distinction is often complicated by paradox, but it helps to ask ourselves, “Is concentrating on this fantasy or daydream opening my creative possibilities, or is this sapping my ego strength in the real world?” ~Marion Woodman

This excerpt begins Marion Woodman‘s foreword from Ann Yeoman’s book, Now or Neverland, which I read some time ago, thanks to Deborah Gregory‘s recommendation, and I am very grateful for it.

Frankly, when I began reading this book, I felt at home; I saw myself as a puer aeternus, struggling to stay balanced on life’s rollercoaster.

Traditionally, the term ‘puer aeternus’ (Latin for ‘eternal boy’) is used to describe a child-god who remains eternally young. In Carl Jung’s psychology, it refers to an older person whose emotional life remains stuck in adolescence, often referred to as the “Peter Pan syndrome”. Jung suggests that the puer lives a “provisional life” due to a fear of being trapped. They seek independence, resist boundaries, and find restrictions intolerable. In Greek mythology, the term ‘puer aeternus’ originates from the Metamorphoses, an epic poem by Roman poet Ovid (43 BC – c. 17 AD) that explores Greek and Roman myths. Ovid refers to the child-god Iacchus as “puer aeternus” and praises his role in the Eleusinian mysteries. Iacchus is linked to Dionysus and Eros. The puer represents a deity of vegetation, resurrection, and divine youth, similar to Tammuz, Attis, and Adonis.

Senex is a Latin term that literally means “old man.” It can also be used to describe: a wise, elderly person, an archetype. The wise older person (also known as senex, sage, or sophos) is an archetype outlined by Carl Jung, as well as a familiar literary figure, often portrayed as a stock character. Such a figure can be a profound philosopher renowned for wisdom and sound judgment.

Marie-Louise Von Franz summarised her view of the puer as follows:
None of his reactions are particularly personal or special. He becomes a type—the type of the puer aeternus. He becomes an archetype, and if you become that, you are not at all original… He is merely the archetype of the eternal-youth god, and, therefore, he has all the features of the god: he has a nostalgic longing for death, he thinks of himself as being something special, and he is the one sensitive being among all the other tough sheep. He will have a problem with an aggressive, destructive shadow that he will not want to live with and generally projects. There is nothing special whatsoever. The worse the identification with the youthful god, the less individual the person, although he himself feels so special. (Puer Aeternus, pp. 121f)
Another type of puer that does not display the charm of eternal youth, nor does the archetype of the divine youth shine through him. On the contrary, he lives in a continual sleepy daze, and that, too, is a typical adolescent characteristic… The sleepy daze is only an outer aspect, however, and if you can penetrate it, you will find that a lively fantasy life is being cherished within. (Puer Aeternus, p.2)

Reflecting on my childhood, after my father passed away and my mother kept it a secret from my brother Al and me, I became very introverted. Once I learned the truth, I simply didn’t want to grow up. Al and I drew closer because of our mother’s lie, and over time, during our youth, we swapped roles as eternal children. Initially, I wanted to remain a child forever, while Al, aware of our father’s death almost from the moment it happened, tried to act as a mature older brother to look after me.

As we entered puberty, our roles underwent significant changes. I developed a strong sexual desire much earlier and believed I had to act like a man to attract girls, while Al began creating his own solitary world. For many years, this condition persisted. Although I was accepted into Al’s world and was part of it, I was the one who had to maintain contact with the outside world. As a result, I assumed the role of the senex, but I longed for my puer aeternus and tried to keep it concealed yet protected.

Let’s conclude this now, and I look forward to discussing this topic further in the next part. 🖖🙏

Queen Tiye, the Ruler of Upper and Lower Egypt!

Ägyptisches Museum (Egyptian Museum), Berlin (Wikimedia)

Queen Tiye, recognised for her intellect and formidable character, earned the respect of foreign dignitaries, who were keen to interact with her directly. She maintained an active presence in foreign relations and became the first Egyptian queen whose name was inscribed on official documents.

*Head of Queen Tiye. Egyptian Museum, Cairo. JE 38257*

Here is an impressive presentation by Marie Grillot about a captivating piece of art represented by a magnificent statue that resonates with us through her story.

Wishing you all the best for the Easter holidays. 💖🙏

Tiyi, a face of royal beauty

via égyptophile

Head of a statuette of Queen Tiye – dark green schistose steatite – New Kingdom – 18th Dynasty
Discovered in 1905 by William Matthew Flinders Petrie in the Temple of Hathor at Serabit el-Khadim (Sinai)
Egyptian Museum, Cairo – JE 38257

In 1905, the English Egyptologist William Matthew Flinders Petrie led an expedition to the Sinai Peninsula. He was particularly interested in the site of the temple of Serabit el-Khadim. Built during the reign of Snefu for workers who came to work in the turquoise mines, it remained in use until the New Kingdom. The sanctuary is dedicated to the goddess Hathor, “mistress of turquoise,” and the eastern falcon god Sopdu.

The excavation season is expected to yield the discovery of a small female head, measuring 7.2 cm, in a very dark stone.

Here is an excerpt from W.M.F. Petrie’s description in his 1906 report “Researches in Sinai”: “A queen has left here one of the most striking portraits ever carved in Egypt. The very famous Queen Thyi, wife of the great Amenhotep III, was hitherto known from a few carved reliefs, but not yet from such a portrait in the round. Strangely, such a remote spot should have preserved this representation, which we have identified from the cartouche in the middle of the crown. The schistose stone is dark green steatite.

The entire statuette must have measured about a foot in height. Unfortunately, we have found no fragments other than the head. The great dignity of the face is combined with a fascinating uprightness. The delicacy of the contours of the eyes and cheekbones testifies to the quality of execution. The lips, whose curious curve curves downwards, are complete and delicate, yet express a disdain devoid of malice. They are, most certainly, a likeness to the truth… The ear is pierced, as is also the case with her son Akhenaten. The crown she wore was probably with gold inlays. The two-winged cobras stretch their length in loops around the head, until they meet at the back; while in the middle of the forehead, they support the cartouche with the name of the great queen of Upper and Lower Egypt. This piece alone was worth all the rest of our earnings for the year; it is now in the Cairo Museum.”

“Head of statuette of Queen Tiye – Dark green steatite” (Egyptian Museum, Cairo JE 38257)
published here by William Matthew Flinders Petrie in “Researches in Sinai” (1906), plate 133 – p. 127

In his book “Essays on Egyptian Art” published in 1912, Gaston Maspero describes it thus: “The right wing of the wig is missing, and the nose has suffered from an unfortunate shock on the left nostril, without however losing the essential part of its shape: a cartouche engraved on the front of the hairstyle tells us the name, and the piece gives, at first glance, the conviction of a portrait likeness. It is not flattering. If we are to believe him, Tiyi presented the racial characteristics of the Berberines or the women of the Egyptian desert, small eyes slanted towards the temples, noses with a wide tip and disdainful nostrils, a heavy and sullen mouth, with drooping corners and whose lower lip is pulled back by a receding chin.”

What femininity, what willpower, what pride, and what presence! The personality that emanates from this little face is visibly inspiring… And it is touching, even moving, to see how much each Egyptologist is keen to decipher it…

Thus, for Mohamed Saleh and Hourig Sourouzian (“Official Catalogue of the Egyptian Museum in Cairo”): “The oval face with high cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes and a thick, almost disillusioned mouth is that of a determined and serious woman, who exudes a high spirituality despite her apparent youth.”

In “The Wonders of the Egyptian Museum in Cairo,” Francesco Tiradritti provides the following interpretation: “The corners of the mouth, curved downwards, give the whole face an air of gravity that was often interpreted as an allusion to the decisive and inflexible temperament of Tiyi.”

Jean-Pierre Corteggiani’s analysis (“Egypt of the Pharaohs at the Cairo Museum”) is also not devoid of realism: “There is something haughty, if not contemptuous, in this young and energetic face of a woman who is both highly aware of her rank and proud to have managed to occupy it.”

There are many known representations of the queen, the most famous of which are those in the Egyptian Museum in Berlin (ÄM 21834 – yew wood head found in 1904 in Medinet Gourab), those in the Louvre (N 2312, E 25493 – glazed steatite – Salt Collection), as well as those in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York (26.7.1396 yellow jasper, discovered in Amarna from the Carnarvon Collection), without forgetting, of course, the imposing statuary group where she appears seated alongside her husband and with three of their daughters (atrium of the Cairo Museum – ref. GM 610 – JE 33906).

Head of Queen Tiye – yew wood statue in the round
discovered in 1904 in Medinet Gourab
Berlin Museum – ÄM 21834 (museum photo)

Tiyi lived in the New Kingdom; she was the daughter of Youya and Touya, whom Pierre Tallet (“12 Queens of Egypt Who Changed History”) describes as follows: “Youya was from Akhmim in Middle Egypt and held the titles of director of the royal stables and divine father; her mother Touya was a ‘royal ornament’ and singer of Amun.” She was therefore close to the Court…

“In the palace, rumour had preceded the event: Tiyi would be queen… she was and assumed this role with exceptional talent,” relates Christian Leblanc in his “Queens of the Nile.” And he continues: “Announced beyond the borders by an issue of large commemorative scarabs, the marriage of Tiyi with Amenhotep III was celebrated with great pomp in Memphis… Very quickly, Tiyi had a great influence on the government of the country. Through her strong personality, she exercised a role as confidante and political advisor to her husband.” It appears that her role also continued during the reign of her son, Amenhotep IV, also known as Akhenaten.

The one who was adorned with so many laudatory titles: “Noble lady”, “Great favourite”, “Great royal wife”, “Sovereign of the Two lands”, “Who fills the palace with love”, died between the 12th and 15th year of her son’s reign.

The quality of this stone portrait is therefore “up to” the great lady that she was… We must salute the sculptor who was able to render her character traits so accurately and so finely and who, in a way, helps us to better “perceive” the subtle personality of the sovereign…

Presented under number 4257 of the “Visitor’s Guide to the Cairo Museum” (Gaston Maspero, 1915), it was recorded in the museum’s Journal of Entries under reference JE 38257.

Marie Grillot

Sources:

Head from a statuette of Queen Tiye
https://egyptianmuseumcairo.eg/artefacts/head-from-statuette-of-queen-tiye/
William Matthew Flinders Petrie, Researches in Sinai, John Murray, London, 1906
http://www.serendipity.li/petrie/rs01.htm
https://archive.org/details/researchesinsina00petruoft/page/n11/mode/2up
Jean-Pierre Corteggiani, Egypt of the Pharaohs at the Cairo Museum, Hachette Paris, 1986
Charles Bonnet, Dominique Valbelle, The Temple of Hathor, Mistress of Turquoise, at Serabit el-Khadim, Proceedings of the meetings of the Academy of Inscriptions and Belles-Lettres, 1995, 139-4 pp. 915-941
http://www.persee.fr/web/revues/home/prescript/article/crai_0065-0536_1995_num_139_4_15537
Mohamed Saleh, Hourig Sourouzian, Official Catalogue of the Egyptian Museum in Cairo, Verlag Philippe von Zabern, 1997
Francesco Tiradritti, Treasures of Egypt – The Wonders of the Egyptian Museum in Cairo, Gründ, 1999
Abeer El-Shahawy, The Egyptian Museum in Cairo, Matḥaf al-Miṣrī, American University in Cairo Press, 2005
Pierre Tallet, 12 Queens of Egypt Who Changed History, Pygmalion, 2013

Published on January 17, 2015 by Marie Grillot

How We Can Welcome Death!

“Whoever fights with monsters should be careful not to become a monster himself. When you gaze long into an abyss, it also gazes into you.”
~Friedrich Nietzsche, Jenseits von Gut und Böse (1886) ch. 4, no. 146

Actually, I need to rest and post less frequently than before, but this short essay by adorable Laura London, an excellent Jungian expert at X (formerly Twitter), invigorated me. I couldn’t resist sharing it with you.

For many, contemplating and analyzing death is uncomfortable or even frightening. However, when we psychologically examine the world around us, we observe everything as dualistic, such as warm and cold, dark and light, love and hate, joy and grief… and, of course, life and death; neither can exist without the other!

There is no reason for many young people to think about death, except for some like me who are confronted with it by losing a part of their parent or both. However, as we reach a certain age, this challenge becomes unavoidable. Fear is not a solution, as we will inevitably confront the other side. Therefore, it is better to attempt to understand or envision it as much as possible. Reading this essay soothes the soul!

This quote from Jung is one of my favourites because it offers a breakthrough in our understanding of death.

Now, let’s read a tiny Colletti of Jung’s explanation on this issue, with heartfelt thanks to Laura London, which also included an introduction to an excellent book by Richard Wilhelm.

“From 1929 to 1934, #Jung presented his more mature thoughts about the mystery of death in three separate essays.⁵ In one of these essays, he stated that ‘anyone should draw the conclusion that the psyche, in its deepest reaches, participates in a form of existence beyond space and time, and thus partakes of what is inadequately and symbolically described as ‘eternity’’ [CW 8, par. 815]. Because of this, he also stated that as a doctor, I make every effort to strengthen the belief in immortality, especially with older patients … For … death is not an end but a goal, and life’s inclination towards death begins as soon as the meridian is passed’ [CW 13, par. 68]. Jung argued that the crisis of the second half of life is a sign that ‘nature prepares itself for death’ [CW 8, par. 808], hence, ‘it is hygienic … to discover in death a goal towards which one can strive’ [CW 8, par. 792], since ‘dying … has its onset long before actual death’ [CW 8, par. 809]. Jung concluded that ‘the #unconscious is all the more interested in how one dies; that is, whether the attitude of #consciousness is adjusted to dying or not’ [par. 809]. Death, then, became not only a goal for Jung but also a reality that could enrich life. Death begins before it happens, in midlife, so how one lives with death and how one approaches that goal became for Jung of paramount importance. In 1928, Jung received a copy of The Secret of the Golden Flower, a Chinese Taoist-alchemical text that, together with a dream he had which was set in Liverpool [Memories, Dreams, Reflections, pp. 220–223], confirmed to him that the goal of the #individuation process is the self, ‘the archetype of wholeness’ [CW 9ii, par. 351].”

⁵ “Commentary on ‘The Secret of the Golden Flower’” (1929); “The Stages of Life” (1930); “The Soul and Death” (1934).

~Luis Moris, Jungian psychoanalyst, “Jung’s Confrontation with Death: An Introduction, Confronting Death, pp. 7-8

🌼 You can watch my interview with Jungian psychoanalyst Luis Moris, editor of the book Confronting Death, in Episode 139 of Speaking of Jung.

	Resa on There is always a Beginning to…
	Kathy Bochicchio on There is always a Beginning to…
	balladeer on There is always a Beginning to…
	lampmagician on There is always a Beginning to…
	mikesteeden on There is always a Beginning to…

The scientific literature on dream problems

The relationship between dreams and waking life (Beziehung des Traumes zum Wachleben)

Share this: Reblog

The Pursuit of Political Authority in Plato’s Republic.

Event Date: -425 GR

Share this: Reblog

Share this: Reblog

Pity the Nation (After Khalil Gibran)

Share this: Reblog

Share this: Reblog

Share this: Reblog

Share this: Reblog

Share this: Reblog

Tiyi, a face of royal beauty

Share this: Reblog

Share this: Reblog