Collected Papers on Analytical Psychology

by C. G. Jung

One of the dominants that is almost always met in the analysis of projections of collective unconscious contents is the "magical demon;" it is of preponderating sinister effect. "The Golem," by Meyrink, is a good example of this; also the Thibetan wizard in Meyrink's "Fledermäusen," who lets the world-war loose by magic. Obviously Meyrink formed this image independently and freely out of his unconscious, by giving word and picture to a feeling similar to the one that my patient had projected upon me. The dominant of magic also appears in "Zarathustra," whilst in "Faust" it is, so to say, the hero himself.

The picture of this demon is the lowest and most elementary concept of God. It is the dominant of the primitive tribal magic-man, or a singularly gifted personality endowed with magic power. This figure very frequently makes an appearance in my patient's unconscious as a dark-skinned being of Mongolian type.

An important step forward has been taken by the recognition of the dominants of the absolute unconscious. The magical or demoniac effect of the fellow-being is made to disappear by the feeling being realised as a definite projection of the absolute unconscious. On the other hand, a completely new and unsuspected task now lies before us: namely, the question in what way the ego should come to terms with this psychological non-ego. Should one rest satisfied with having verified the effective existence of unconscious dominants, leaving the matter to take care of itself?

To leave it at this point would be the means of creating a permanent state of dissociation in the subject, a conflict between the individual psyche and the collective psyche. Upon the one side we should have the differentiated modern ego, whilst upon the other a kind of uncivilized negro representative of a thoroughly primitive state. That would mean that we should have what really does exist, a crust of civilization over a dark-skinned brute; the cleavage would be distinct and demonstrable before our very eyes. But such a dissociation requires immediate synthesis and cultivation of what is undeveloped. There must be a union of these two aspects.

Before entering upon this new question let us first return to the dream from which we started. The discussion has given us a broader understanding of the dream, and especially of an essential part of it, namely, the fear. This fear is a demoniac fear of the dominants of the collective unconscious. We saw that the patient identifies herself with Mrs. X., expressing thereby that she also has some relation to the mysterious artist. It was apparent also that she identified the physician (myself) with the artist; and further that when taken upon the subjective plane, the image of the wizard dominants of the collective unconscious represented me.

All this is covered in the dream by the symbol of the crab which walks backwards. The crab stands for the living content of the unconscious that can by no means be exhausted or rendered inoperative by analysis on the objective plane. But what we were able to do was to detach the mythological or collective psychological contents from the objects of consciousness, and to consolidate them as psychological realities outside the individual psyche.

So long as the absolute unconscious and the individual psyche are coupled together without differentiation, no progress can be made, or, as the dream expresses it, no boundary be crossed. If the dreamer does nevertheless prepare to cross the boundary, the unconscious that was hitherto unnoticed becomes animated, seizing her and dragging her down. The dream and its material characterize the absolute unconscious, on the one side as a lower animal living hidden in the depths of the water; and on the other side, as a dangerous disease that can only be cured by a timely operation. To what extent this characterization is appropriate has already been seen. As was pointed out, the animal symbol specially refers to what is extra human, that is super-personal; for the contents of the absolute unconscious are not merely the residue of archaic human functions, but also the residue of functions of the animal ancestry of mankind, whose duration of life was indeed vastly greater than the relatively brief epoch of specifically human existence. If such residues are active, they are apt, as nothing else is, not merely to arrest the progress of development, but also to divert the libido into regressive channels, until the quantity which the absolute unconscious has activated has been absorbed. The energy becomes profitable again after it has been consciously contrasted with the absolute unconscious, a process which enables it to be converted into a valuable source from which to draw. This transference of energy was established by religions in a concretistic manner through cultural communication with the gods (the dominants of the absolute unconscious). But these modes and customs are too much at variance with our intellect and our moral sense for us to be able to declare this solution of the problem as still binding, or even possible. If, on the other hand, we apprehend the images of the unconscious as collective unconscious dominants, therefore as collective-psychological phenomena or functions, this hypothesis is in no way opposed to our intellect and conscience. This solution is rationally acceptable. We have thus gained the possibility of coming to terms with the activated residues of our ancestral history. This mode of settlement makes it possible to traverse the boundary line hitherto limiting us, and is therefore appropriately termed the transcendental function, which is synonymous with progressive development to a new attitude. In the dream this development is indicated by the other side of the stream.

The similarity to hero-myths is striking. The typical combat of the hero with the monster (the unconscious content) frequently takes place on the banks of some water; sometimes at a ford. This circumstance is prominent in legends of Red Indians, as, for example, in Longfellow's "Hiawatha." In the decisive battle the hero is swallowed by a monster (cf. story of Jonah), as Frobenius[246] has shown by means of extensive material. But inside the monster the hero begins to come to terms with the beast in his own way: whilst the creature swims with him towards the sunrise, he cuts off a valuable piece of the viscera, e.g. the heart, by which the monster lived, that is, the valuable energy by which the unconscious was activated. Through this deed he kills the monster, who then drifts to land, where the hero, born anew through the transcendental function (the "night-journey under the sea" of Frobenius), steps forth, often in company with all those beings whom the monster had previously swallowed. This enables the normal state to be restored, as the unconscious having been robbed of its energy no longer occupies a preponderating position. In this way the myth—which is the dream of a people—graphically describes the problem with which our patient is concerned.[247]

The problem of how to come to terms with the absolute unconscious is a question apart. I must content myself here with a general survey of the new theory of the unconscious up to the transcendental function, leaving the presentation of the transcendental function itself to a later work.

X.—The Development of the Types of Introversion and Extroversion in the Analytical Process.