Carl Gustav Jung the man and his symbols. Carl Gustav Jung

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Carl Gustav Jung and followers
Man and his symbols

John Freeman
Introduction

The circumstances of the publication of this book are quite unusual and interesting for this reason alone, especially since they are directly related to its content and intention. So let me talk about how the book was written.

One spring day in 1959, the BBC (British Broadcasting Corporation) approached me with an offer to interview Dr. Carl Gustav Jung for British television. The interview was supposed to be “in-depth.” At that time, I didn’t know much about Jung himself and his work, but soon I decided to meet him, which took place in his luxurious house on the shores of Lake Zurich. It was the beginning of a great friendship that meant so much to me and, I hope, brought pleasant moments to Jung during the last years of his life. This is, perhaps, the limit of the role of the television interview in my story. The main thing is that it turned out to be successful and led, by a strange coincidence, to the appearance of this book.

One of those who saw the interview on TV was the executive director of the publishing house Aldous Books, Wolfgang Vodges. Voges has watched with keen interest the evolution of modern psychology since his family settled next door to the Freuds in Vienna. He looked at Jung talking about his life, work and ideas, and suddenly thought: what a pity that Jung never tried to reach a wider circle of readers. After all, any educated person in the Western world is well aware of Jung's views, but for the general public they are considered difficult to understand. In fact, Fodges is the true creator of “Man and His Symbols.” Watching the interview and sensing the warmth of the relationship between Jung and me, he asked if he could count on me to try to persuade Jung to formulate his most important basic ideas in a way and in a way that would be understandable and interesting to non-specialist readers. I seized on this idea and went to Zurich, deciding to myself that I must convey to Jung the value and importance of such work. Sitting in the garden, Jung listened to my arguments for two hours straight, almost without interruption, and finally said “no.” The refusal was couched in the most affectionate and benevolent form, but there was an indisputable steadfastness in his voice: he had never before tried to popularize his work and now was not at all confident in the possibility of achieving success. In any case, his age and accumulated fatigue did not contribute to his passionate desire to participate in such an enterprise, which was very dubious from his point of view.

All of Jung's friends were unanimous in the opinion that his decisions were optimal. Jung approached any problem with great care and without haste, and the final solution was usually irrevocable. I returned to London in the greatest disappointment, because I was convinced that Jung's refusal was final. This would all have ended if not for two factors I did not take into account. One was the stubbornness of Fodges, who insisted on one more attempt at appealing to Jung before admitting our defeat. The second is an accident that still amazes me.

The TV show, as I already said, was a success. As a result, Jung began to receive a great many letters from completely different people, most of them ordinary spectators, without medical or psychological training, who were captivated and enchanted by the presence of mind, humor and modest charm of this truly great man, who managed to capture something in the life of the human personality. that might be useful to them. Jung was in a joyful mood, not simply because he received many letters (his correspondence was always enormous), but because he received them from people who would never normally have contacted him. At this moment he had a dream that was of great significance. (After reading this book, you will understand how important he was.) He dreamed that, instead of the usual communication in the office with many psychiatrists and doctors of other specialties constantly calling him from all over the world, he stood in some public place and addressed many people who listened to his every word and understood everything that he speaks. When, a week or two later, Fodges repeated his request for the possibility of publishing an illustrated book - not for doctors or philosophers, but for people in the marketplace - Jung allowed himself to be persuaded. He set two conditions. First: the book will not be written by him alone, but also by a group of his close followers, on whom he has already relied more than once, propagating his teachings. Second: the solution of all coordination tasks and work problems that usually arise between authors and publishers is assigned to me.

Lest this introduction seem to exceed the reasonable bounds of modesty, let me say that I was satisfied with the second condition, although I did not jump for joy. The fact is that quite soon I understood why Jung chose me: in essence, for him I was a sensible, but ordinary person, not particularly educated in the field of psychology. In other words, for him I was an “ordinary average reader” of his book: what was understandable to me should have been intelligible to everyone else; what I couldn’t figure out was too difficult or too much for others to handle. Not overly deluded by this assessment of my role, I nevertheless scrupulously insisted (sometimes fearing that I would infuriate the authors) on reading each paragraph and, if necessary, on its revision until the text became clear and precise. I can now say with my hand on my heart that this book is entirely addressed to the general reader and that the complex topics it deals with are treated with a rare and encouraging simplicity.

After much thought and much discussion, it was decided that the most comprehensive subject of the book would be Man and his symbols, and Jung himself selected the following collaborators for the work: Marie-Louise von Franz of Zurich, perhaps his most trusted confidante and friend; Dr. Joseph L. Henderson of San Francisco, one of the most eminent and truthful followers of Jung in America; Mrs. Aniela Jaffe from Zurich, who, as a practicing psychoanalyst, was also Jung's personal confidential secretary and biographer; Dr. Yolanda Jacobi, who is the most accomplished author among the Jungians in Zurich after Jung. These four men were chosen partly because of their qualifications and experience in precisely the areas corresponding to the sections of the book assigned to them, and partly because Jung was absolutely convinced of their ability to work as a team under his leadership. Jung personally planned the structure of the entire book, supervised and directed the work of the participants in this project, and independently wrote the key chapter “On the Question of the Subconscious.”

The last year of his life was almost entirely devoted to this book: shortly before his death - in June 1961 - he managed to complete his chapter (in fact, he finished work on it ten days before he fell ill) and rough-edited the chapters of his colleagues. After Jung's death, Dr. von Franz completed the book according to Jung's exhaustive instructions. Thus, the main theme of “Man and His Symbols” and the order in which other themes were covered were analyzed in detail by Jung. The chapter signed with his name is solely the work of Jung (apart from some fairly significant editing, the purpose of which was to make the text more clear for the reader ignorant of psychology). This chapter was written in English. The final edition of the work after Jung's death was carried out by Dr. von Franz with great diligence, understanding and in excellent spirits, for which the publishers remained indebted to her.

Finally, a few words directly about the contents of the book.

Jung's thinking has colored the world of modern psychology much more vividly than an inexperienced reader might imagine. Such well-known terms as “extrovert”, “introvert”, “archetype” were introduced by Jung, although at times they were borrowed and misused by other authors. Jung's most stunning contribution to the understanding of psychological processes is his concept of the subconscious, which appears in the scientist's interpretation not just as a place of honor for repressed desires (as in Freud), but as a whole world - as alive and real as the consciousness of the individual, the world of his mind, and even infinitely wider and richer than the latter. The language of the subconscious or the “people” that inhabit it are symbols, and the means of communication are dreams.

Thus, the study of Man and his symbols is actually the study of man’s relationship to his subconscious. And since, in Jung’s understanding, the subconscious is a great guide, friend and adviser to consciousness, this book will deal primarily with man and his spiritual problems. We are familiar with the subconscious and communicate with it in a two-way manner, mainly through dreams. That is why in this book (and especially in Jung's own chapter) so much attention is paid to the meaning of dreams in the life of the individual.

It would not be appropriate for me to try to interpret Jung's work to readers, many of whom are probably better equipped than I am to understand it. My role, as you remember, was to serve as a kind of “comprehensibility filter”, and does not imply any interpretation. However, I will venture to speak on two general issues that seemed to me, a non-expert, worthy of attention and may be useful to other “non-expert” readers.

Firstly, about dreams. For Jung's followers, a dream is not a code that can be decoded using a dictionary of symbolic meanings. It is a complex, very important and personal expression of the individual subconscious. It is “real” to the same extent as everything that happens to a person in life. The individual subconscious of the sleeper communicates only with himself and selects for this purpose such symbols that make sense only for him, and for no one else. That is why the interpretation of dreams by a psychoanalyst or those who dreamed it is for psychologists of the Jung school a completely private and individual activity (sometimes leading to unexpected results and very protracted), which in no way should be undertaken without proper preparation.

The downside to all this is that the messages of the subconscious mind are of great importance to their recipient, which is quite natural, since the subconscious mind occupies at least half of his being. In addition, it often offers advice or assistance that cannot be obtained from any other source. Thus, when I described Jung's dream in which he speaks to many people, I was not at all trying to depict any kind of magic or convince you that Jung was casually making predictions about the future. I simply recounted an ordinary episode demonstrating how Jung was “advised” by his subconscious to reconsider a wrong decision made by his rational mind.

From the above it follows that dreams are not an accidental matter for a follower of Jung’s school. On the contrary, the ability to communicate with the subconscious is a trait inherent in the whole person, and Jungians are “trained” (for lack of a better word) to be sensitive to their dreams. So, when Jung himself was faced with the need to make the right choice - to write or not to write this book - he could, when making a decision, rely on both consciousness and subconsciousness. And further throughout the book, dreams are interpreted as meaningful messages of a personal nature to the sleeper. In this case, symbols are used that are common to all of humanity, but their use in each case is purely individual and can only be deciphered by selecting an individual “key”.

The second issue that I would like to draw attention to is the special style of argumentation that is characteristic of the authors of this book and, perhaps, characteristic of all Jungians. Those who have limited themselves to life exclusively in the world of consciousness and who reject communication with the subconscious, bind themselves to the laws of conscious life with all its formalities. Following the infallible (but often meaningless) logic of an algebraic equation, they start from conventional premises and come to indisputable conclusions. Knowing it or not, Jung and his colleagues seem to me to be overcoming the limitations of this mode of argumentation. This does not mean that they ignore logic, but they constantly appeal to both the subconscious and the conscious. Their dialectic is symbolic in its own way, and sometimes even intricate. They convince not with the help of a narrowly directed beam of syllogism, but with the help of repeated consideration of the topic and each time from a slightly different angle - until the reader, without realizing that something was being proven to him, suddenly understands that he learned how - something new and important.

The arguments of Jung (and his colleagues) go as if in a spiral - starting from the subject they are interested in and covering him in ever wider circles. It resembles a bird circling a tree. At first, near the ground, she sees tangled leaves and branches. Gradually, as it gains height, repeating views of the tree from different sides organically fit into the overall coherent picture. Some readers may find this "spiral" method of argument unintelligible and even confusing during the first few pages, but I believe not for much longer. This method is characteristic of Jung, and very soon the reader will find himself involved in a most compelling and deeply engrossing journey.

The various sections of the book speak for themselves and require little or no introduction. The chapter, written by Jung himself, introduces the reader to the world of the subconscious, the archetypes and symbols that form its language, and the dreams through which it speaks to us. In the next chapter, Dr. Henderson illustrates the manifestation of several archetypal compositions in ancient mythology, folklore, and primitive rites. Dr. von Franz, in the chapter “The Process of Individuation,” describes how the conscious and subconscious minds within one personality learn to know, respect, and interact with each other. In a certain sense, this chapter contains the quintessence not only of the entire book, but, perhaps, of all Jung’s ideas about the meaning of life, according to which a person becomes a complete person - calm, fruitful and happy - when (and only then) the process of individuation is completed, and consciousness and subconsciousness have learned to live in peace, balancing and complementing each other. Mrs. Jaffe, describing, like Dr. Henderson, the well-known “kitchen” of the conscious, examines the constant attraction - almost to the point of obsession - to the symbols of the subconscious. They have the deepest meaning to him, almost vital, and have an inner attraction - whether they are found in the myths and fairy tales that Dr. Henderson analyzes, or in the visual arts, which, as Mrs. Jaffe has demonstrated, satisfies and delights us with constant appeal to the subconscious.

Finally, a few words about Dr. Jacobi's chapter, which is somewhat different from the rest of the book. In fact, this is a brief clinical description of one of the most interesting and successful cases of psychoanalysis. The value of such a description for the book is obvious, but first two remarks in this regard. First, as Dr. von Franz points out, there is no such thing as typically Jungian psychoanalysis. It cannot exist, since every dream is a private and purely individual message, and the same symbol, dreamed by two different people, will have different meanings. Thus, every experience of psychoanalysis using Jung's method is unique, and it would be misleading to consider the clinical case given in this book by Dr. Jacobi (or any other mentioned here) as “representative” or “typical.” All that can be said about the described story of Henry and his sometimes gloomy dreams is that they perfectly illustrate the possibilities of applying Jung's method in a particular case of psychotherapy. Secondly, a complete description of the course of treatment for even a relatively simple case would take an entire book. Therefore, the story of the sessions with Henry underwent an inevitable reduction and suffered somewhat as a result. For example, references to the I Ching Book of Changes are not very clear and give an unnatural (and to me unpleasant) connotation of the occult when taken out of its context. Nevertheless, we have come to the conclusion - and I am sure the reader will agree - that, taking into account the above observations, a clear psychoanalytic analysis of the Henry case greatly enriches this book, not to mention the fact that such an account is interesting on a purely personal level. humanly.

Having begun with the circumstances under which Jung came to the decision to write the book “Man and His Symbols,” I want to conclude by reminding readers of the peculiarity, and perhaps the uniqueness, of this publication. Carl Gustav Jung was one of the greatest doctors and at the same time one of the greatest thinkers of this century. He always sought to help people know themselves so that they could, knowing their capabilities and using them thoughtfully, live a full, rich and happy life. At the very end of his life, which was as full, rich and happy as I had ever known, he decided to use his remaining energy to appeal to a wider audience that he had never before attempted to reach. His work and his life came to an end at the same time. So this book is his legacy to a wide range of readers.

Carl Gustav Jung
On the question of the subconscious

The meaning of dreams

A person uses the spoken or written word to convey some meaningful message to others. Moreover, in addition to word-symbols, of which there are so many in any language, words-designations, or a kind of identification marks that are not strictly descriptive, are often used. These are abbreviations representing a series of capital letters (UN, UNICEF, UNESCO), well-known trademarks, patented drug names, military insignia. Having no meaning in themselves, they became recognizable in the course of everyday or purposeful use. Such words are not symbols, but signs that only name the objects to which they are assigned.

We call a symbol a term, name or even an image that, in addition to its commonly used meaning, also has a special additional meaning, carrying something vague and unknown. Many monuments of Cretan culture, for example, are marked with the sign of double adzes. This is an object familiar to us, but its secret meaning is hidden from us. Or let's take another example: one Indian, having visited Great Britain, later told his friends that the British revere animals. He discovered images of an eagle, a lion and a bull in old Protestant churches, but had no idea (like many Christians) that these animals symbolized the authors of the Gospels. In turn, the roots of this symbolism extend to the vision of Ezekiel, and it has an analogue in the Egyptian myth of the sun god Horus and his four sons. An even more striking example is the wheel and cross known to everyone. In the appropriate context, they also have a symbolic meaning, which is still the subject of debate.

Consequently, symbolic is a word or image whose meaning goes beyond the direct and cannot be precisely defined or explained. When the mind tries to grasp a certain symbol, it inevitably comes to ideas that lie beyond logic. Thinking about the wheel as an image of the “divine” sun brings the mind to a threshold beyond which it must admit its incompetence, for it is impossible to define “divine.” By calling something “divine,” we, acting within the boundaries of our mind, only give a name, relying only on faith, but not on facts.

There are countless phenomena in the world that go beyond human understanding. We constantly resort to symbolic terminology to refer to concepts that we cannot define or accurately understand. This is why all religions use symbolic language, both verbal and visual. However, this conscious use of symbols is only one aspect of a psychological phenomenon of great importance: man also produces symbols himself - unconsciously and spontaneously - in the form of dreams.

This thesis is not easy to accept, but it is necessary if we want to learn more about the ways in which the human mind functions. If we think a little, it becomes clear to us that a person is not able to perceive or understand anything completely. His ability to see, hear, touch or feel always depends on the training of the corresponding organs, the degree of which determines the boundaries of perception of the surrounding world. This limitation can be partially overcome with the help of appropriate instruments. Binoculars improve vision, and a sound amplifier improves hearing. However, even the most advanced devices can only bring distant objects closer or make barely audible sounds audible. Whatever instruments we use, at some point we will approach a threshold beyond which uncertainty begins. Our knowledge cannot help the mind cross this threshold.

In addition to those discussed, there are also subconscious aspects of our perception of reality. One of them is that when our senses react to real circumstances, objects and sounds, the latter are somehow transferred from the realm of reality to the realm of the mind, where they become moments of the psyche, the deep essence of which is unknowable (for the psyche is not capable of knowing itself). myself). Thus, any perception of reality involves countless unknown factors, not to mention the fact that any given object is ultimately always incomprehensible to us, like the underlying nature of matter itself.

Individual circumstances, in addition, do not affect our conscious attention, but are nevertheless unconsciously perceived and remain with us without crossing the threshold of consciousness. We can notice them only on a whim or after concentrated thought, when we remember that an event actually took place, but was ignored due to its insignificance. This memory rose from the depths of the subconscious and was recorded as an afterthought, but could have taken the form of a dream. As a rule, in dreams unconsciously perceived aspects of events appear to us, not in rational, but in symbolic and figurative form. Historical fact. It was the study of dreams that first allowed psychologists to explore the subconscious aspects of consciously perceived psychic phenomena.

It is on this evidence that psychologists rely, admitting the existence of the subconscious part of the psyche, although many scientists and psychologists deny this possibility, naively pointing out that it implies the existence of two “subjects” or, more simply, two personalities in one person. This, however, is in fact a reality. One of the misfortunes that modern man suffers from is split personality. And this is not a pathology, but a common phenomenon observed everywhere. A person whose right hand does not know what his left hand is doing is not just a neurotic. Such a difficulty is a symptom of a general unconsciousness of behavior, undoubtedly inherited by all humanity.

Human consciousness developed slowly and difficultly. Many centuries passed until this process brought him onto the path of culture (the beginning of which is incorrectly dated to the fourth millennium BC, when writing came into use). The evolution of human consciousness is far from complete: after all, large areas of the mind are still immersed in darkness. And what we call the psyche is in no way identical to consciousness.

Those who deny the existence of the subconscious actually argue that our current knowledge of the psyche is exhaustive. And such an opinion is clearly as false as the assumption that we know absolutely everything about the universe.

Our psyche is part of the world around us, and its mystery is also limitless. Therefore, we cannot define either one or the other. We can only claim that we believe in their existence and describe their functioning as best we can. In addition to the accumulated results of medical research, there are also serious logical arguments against claims about the non-existence of the subconscious. Proponents of this point of view express the age-old "misoneism" - the fear of the new and unknown.

This opposition to the idea of ​​the existence of an unknown part of the human psyche has its tenacious roots, because consciousness is a very recent acquisition of existence and is still in the process of becoming. It is fragile, subject to specific hazards and easily injured. Anthropologists have noticed that one of the most common mental disorders among primitive people was, in their language, “loss of soul,” or disorder (in scientific terms, dissociation) of consciousness.

Among people of the past, whose level of consciousness was different from ours, the soul (psyche) was not perceived as something whole. Many believed that every person, in addition to an ordinary soul, also has a so-called “forest soul”, embodied in the animal and plant with which he has a certain psychic relationship. The famous French ethnologist L. Lévy-Bruhl called these ideas “mystical participation.” He later abandoned this term under pressure from unfriendly criticism, but I am sure he is right. In psychology, the phenomenon of such a subconscious unity of one individual with another person or object is well known.

Among primitive people this kinship took many forms. If the “forest soul” lived in any animal, then it was considered a kind of brother to the person. It was assumed that a person with a crocodile as a brother could, for example, calmly splash around in a river infested with alligators. To have a "forest soul" in a tree signified the parental power of that tree over the individual. In both cases it was understood that insulting the “forest soul” was equal to insulting a person. Some tribes believed that a person has several souls. Such a worldview reflected the belief of individual primitive people that they consisted of several interconnected but different parts. This means that the individual psyche was far from harmonious integrity. On the contrary, she threatened to fall apart under the pressure of uncontrollable emotions.

Although this situation is known to us only from the work of anthropologists, it is not at all as far from modern reality as it might seem. We too can become dissociated and lose our individuality. We may find ourselves at the mercy of our moods, and thus greatly changed; we can lose prudence and memory of self-evident things concerning ourselves and our loved ones to such an extent that we provoke the question:

“What demon has possessed you?” We are talking about the possibility of self-control, but rarely does anyone manage to master this wonderful quality. We may think we have control over ourselves, but our friends can easily see things in us that we don't even imagine.

Without a doubt, even with a high, from our point of view, level of civilization, human consciousness has not yet reached the level of continuity. It is still vulnerable and subject to fragmentation. At the same time, the ability to isolate part of the mind is very valuable. It allows us to focus on one thing, turning off everything that can distract our attention, and suppressing part of the psyche for this. The main question, however, is whether we do this consciously or whether it happens spontaneously, without our knowledge or consent, or even against our desire. In the first case, such an ability is an achievement of civilization; in the second, it is a primitive “loss of soul” or even a neurotic pathology.

Thus, even today, the unity of consciousness is still an unreliable thing - it is too easily interrupted. And the ability to control emotions, which is very useful on the one hand, on the other, looks rather doubtful, because it deprives human relationships of diversity, brightness and warmth.

It is against this background that we will consider the meaning of dreams - these unsteady, elusive, short-lived, vague and indefinite fantasies. To explain my position, I would like to describe how it has evolved and how I have come to the conclusion that dreams are the most widespread and accessible source for studying the ability of people to generate symbols.

Sigmund Freud was the first to attempt to empirically explore the subconscious background of consciousness. In his work, he proceeded from the general assumption that dreams are not random, but are associated with consciously experienced thoughts and problems. This assumption was based on the thesis of prominent neurologists (including Pierre Janet) about the connection of neurotic symptoms with specific conscious experiences. They seem to arise in disconnected areas of the waking mind that can turn back on at other times and under other conditions.

At the end of the last century, Sigmund Freud and Joseph Breuer came to the conclusion that neurotic symptoms - hysteria, certain types of pain, abnormal behavior - also have a symbolic meaning. Like dreams, they are a way of self-expression of the subconscious part of the mind and also carry a symbolic load. For example, a patient faced with an intolerable situation may experience a spasm when swallowing: the memory of it makes him choke. In a similar situation, another patient begins to have an asthma attack: he is depressed by the “atmosphere at home.” The third suffers from a special form of paralysis of the legs; he does not walk, since it is impossible to “move forward” further. The fourth suffers from bouts of vomiting while eating because he cannot “digest” some unpleasant fact. I could give many similar examples, but such a physical reaction is only one form of expression of the problems that subconsciously bother us. Most often they come to us in a dream.

Any psychologist who has had to listen to the content of patients' dreams knows that there are many more symbols found in dreams than physical symptoms of neurosis. Often dreams consist of complex and colorful

fantasies. However, if we use the Freudian method of “free association” to analyze this material, it turns out that the entire variety of dreams can be reduced to several basic plots. This method played an important role in the development of psychoanalysis, allowing Freud to use patients' dreams as a starting point for studying their unconscious problems.


Carl Gustav Jung and followers

Man and his symbols

John Freeman

Introduction

The circumstances of the publication of this book are quite unusual and interesting for this reason alone, especially since they are directly related to its content and intention. So let me talk about how the book was written.

One spring day in 1959, the BBC (British Broadcasting Corporation) approached me with an offer to interview Dr. Carl Gustav Jung for British television. The interview was supposed to be “in-depth.” At that time, I didn’t know much about Jung himself and his work, but soon I decided to meet him, which took place in his luxurious house on the shores of Lake Zurich. It was the beginning of a great friendship that meant so much to me and, I hope, brought pleasant moments to Jung during the last years of his life. This is, perhaps, the limit of the role of the television interview in my story. The main thing is that it turned out to be successful and led, by a strange coincidence, to the appearance of this book.

One of those who saw the interview on TV was the executive director of the publishing house Aldous Books, Wolfgang Vodges. Voges has watched with keen interest the evolution of modern psychology since his family settled next door to the Freuds in Vienna. He looked at Jung talking about his life, work and ideas, and suddenly thought: what a pity that Jung never tried to reach a wider circle of readers. After all, any educated person in the Western world is well aware of Jung's views, but for the general public they are considered difficult to understand. In fact, Fodges is the true creator of "Man and His Symbols." Watching the interview and sensing the warmth of the relationship between Jung and me, he asked if he could count on me to try to persuade Jung to formulate his most important basic ideas in a way and in a way that would be understandable and interesting to non-specialist readers. I seized on this idea and went to Zurich, deciding to myself that I must convey to Jung the value and importance of such work. Sitting in the garden, Jung listened to my arguments for two hours straight, almost without interruption, and finally said “no.” The refusal was couched in the most affectionate and benevolent form, but there was an indisputable steadfastness in his voice: he had never before tried to popularize his work and now was not at all confident in the possibility of achieving success. In any case, his age and accumulated fatigue did not contribute to his passionate desire to participate in such an enterprise, which was very dubious from his point of view.

All of Jung's friends were unanimous in the opinion that his decisions were optimal. Jung approached any problem with great care and without haste, and the final solution was usually irrevocable. I returned to London in the greatest disappointment, because I was convinced that Jung's refusal was final. This would all have ended if not for two factors I did not take into account. One was the stubbornness of Fodges, who insisted on one more attempt at appealing to Jung before admitting our defeat. The second is an accident that still amazes me.

The TV show, as I already said, was a success. As a result, Jung began to receive a great many letters from completely different people, most of them ordinary spectators, without medical or psychological training, who were captivated and enchanted by the presence of mind, humor and modest charm of this truly great man, who managed to capture something in the life of the human personality that might be useful to them. Jung was in a joyful mood, not simply because he received many letters (his correspondence was always enormous), but because he received them from people who would never normally have contacted him. At this moment he had a dream that was of great significance. (After reading this book, you will understand how important he was.) He dreamed that, instead of the usual communication in the office with many psychiatrists and doctors of other specialties constantly calling him from all over the world, he stood in some public place and addressed many people who listened to his every word and understood everything that he speaks. When, a week or two later, Fodges repeated his request for the possibility of publishing an illustrated book - not for doctors or philosophers, but for people in the marketplace - Jung allowed himself to be persuaded. He set two conditions. First: the book will not be written by him alone, but also by a group of his close followers, on whom he has already relied more than once, propagating his teachings. Second: the solution of all coordination tasks and work problems that usually arise between authors and publishers is assigned to me.

Lest this introduction seem to exceed the reasonable bounds of modesty, let me say that I was satisfied with the second condition, although I did not jump for joy. The fact is that quite soon I understood why Jung chose me: in essence, for him I was a sensible, but ordinary person, not particularly educated in the field of psychology. In other words, for him I was an “ordinary average reader” of his book: what was understandable to me should have been intelligible to everyone else; what I couldn’t figure out was too difficult or too much for others to handle. Not overly deluded by this assessment of my role, I nevertheless scrupulously insisted (sometimes fearing that I would infuriate the authors) on reading each paragraph and, if necessary, on its revision until the text became clear and precise. I can now say with my hand on my heart that this book is entirely addressed to the general reader and that the complex topics it deals with are treated with a rare and encouraging simplicity.

After much thought and much discussion, it was decided that the most comprehensive subject of the book would be Man and his symbols, and Jung himself selected the following collaborators for the work: Marie-Louise von Franz of Zurich, perhaps his most trusted confidante and friend; Dr. Joseph L. Henderson of San Francisco, one of the most eminent and truthful followers of Jung in America; Mrs. Aniela Jaffe from Zurich, who, as a practicing psychoanalyst, was also Jung's personal confidential secretary and biographer; Dr. Yolanda Jacobi, who is the most accomplished author among the Jungians in Zurich after Jung. These four men were chosen partly because of their qualifications and experience in precisely the areas corresponding to the sections of the book assigned to them, and partly because Jung was absolutely convinced of their ability to work as a team under his leadership. Jung personally planned the structure of the entire book, supervised and directed the work of the participants in this project, and independently wrote the key chapter “On the Question of the Subconscious.”

The last year of his life was almost entirely devoted to this book: shortly before his death - in June 1961 - he managed to complete his chapter (in fact, he finished work on it ten days before he fell ill) and rough-edited the chapters of his colleagues. After Jung's death, Dr. von Franz completed the book according to Jung's exhaustive instructions. Thus, the main theme of “Man and His Symbols” and the order in which other themes were covered were analyzed in detail by Jung. The chapter signed with his name is solely the work of Jung (apart from some fairly significant editing, the purpose of which was to make the text more clear for the reader ignorant of psychology). This chapter was written in English. The final edition of the work after Jung's death was carried out by Dr. von Franz with great diligence, understanding and in excellent spirits, for which the publishers remained indebted to her.

Finally, a few words directly about the contents of the book.

Jung's thinking has colored the world of modern psychology much more vividly than an inexperienced reader might imagine. Such well-known terms as “extrovert”, “introvert”, “archetype” were introduced by Jung, although at times they were borrowed and misused by other authors. Jung's most stunning contribution to the understanding of psychological processes is his concept of the subconscious, which appears in the scientist's interpretation not just as a place of honor for repressed desires (as in Freud), but as a whole world - as alive and real as the consciousness of the individual, the world of his mind, and even infinitely wider and richer than the latter. The language of the subconscious or the “people” that inhabit it are symbols, and the means of communication are dreams.

This book was the last, final one in the life of the great master of psychoanalysis, Carl Gustav Jung. It has its own interesting history and special purpose. More precisely, the book “Man and His Symbols,” unlike Jung’s other works, is intended for a wide range of readers far from psychology and philosophy. To write it, Jung gathered his closest followers, with whom he performed a difficult task: to fit all his teachings and views on human psychology into one book, written in the most understandable and simple language. So that a person who is not familiar with Jung’s teachings, or with psychology and philosophy in general, could read it and understand it.

My soul, where are you? Can you hear me? I say, I call you - are you here? I'm back, I'm here again. I shook off the dust of all lands from my feet, and I came to you, I am with you. After many years of long wanderings, I have come to you again. Shall I tell you everything that I have seen, experienced and absorbed? Or do you not want to hear all this noise of life and the world? But one thing you should know: one thing I learned is that everyone has to live their own life.

This life is the path, the long sought path to the immeasurable, what we call the divine. There is no other way, all other ways are false. I found the right path, it led me to you, to my soul. I return, hardened and purified. Do you still remember me? How long the separation lasted! Everything has changed so much. And how did I find you? What a strange journey my journey has been! What words can I use to describe the tangled roads along which the good star led me to you? Give me your hand, my almost forgotten soul. How warm is the joy of meeting you again, a soul that has not been recognized for a long time. Life brought me back to you. Let us thank the life I lived, for all the happy and sad hours, for every joy, for every sadness. My soul, my journey will continue with you. I will wander with you and ascend to my solitude.
Carl Gustav Jung "The Red Book".

The history of this book

In the introduction to the book, written by British journalist John Freeman, he talks about his acquaintance and friendship with Jung and his request to write this book. The friendship began with an interview for the British Broadcasting Corporation BBC, at whose request he conducted an “in-depth interview” with Jung. It was a TV program where Jung spoke to viewers, talking about his ideas. After the interview, Wolfgang Vodges, director of Aldous Books, approached Freeman. He considered it unfair that Freud's ideas were known to a wide range of readers, while Jung's ideas were still the property of the intellectual elite, considered too complex for the common man. However, they could be interesting and useful to many, and with this idea he convinced the journalist to go to visit Jung in order to persuade him to write such a book. However, Freeman was refused. Jung said he was too old and tired to take on such responsibility.

At that time, Carl Gustav Jung really led a measured and leisurely lifestyle. He reflected on the secrets of the human soul and the future of humanity, embodying the archetype of the Wise Old Man with his whole being.

“Sometimes I feel as if I absorb the surrounding objects into myself,” Jung wrote about that period, “I live in every tree, in the splash of waves, in clouds, in animals that come and go, - in every being... Everything is here has its own story - and this is my story. Here passes the line beyond which the boundless kingdom of the unconscious opens up. I gave up electricity, heat the oven and stove myself, and in the evenings I light old lamps. I don't have running water, I get water from a well. I chop wood and cook food. These simple things contain the simplicity that is so difficult for a person.”

However, Jung later changed his mind; this was purely an accident, more like an intervention of fate, since he usually never changed his decisions. Jung began to receive a lot of responses to his speech on television, these were letters from ordinary people, not psychologists, who were imbued with his ideas. He was surprised and touched, and on top of all this, he had a dream that turned out to be very important to him. In the dream, he was in a public place and addressing a large gathering of people who understood his every word. The dream finally convinced the brilliant psychotherapist, and he nevertheless decided to get to work. He attracted his closest followers and associates, those whom he trusted most and who had the best writing abilities: Louise-Maria von Franz, Dr. Joseph L. Henderson, Mrs. Aniella Jaffe and Dr. Iolanta Jacobi. Jung wrote the structural outline of the book and the fundamental chapter “On the Question of the Subconscious” himself, finishing it just 10 days before his illness began, which led to his death. Louise-Marie completed the work in accordance with Jung's exhaustive instructions, preparing the book for publication.

Jung and conventional psychological terminology

Jung's contribution to psychology as a whole is much greater than is commonly thought. The concepts described and formed by him largely determined the language of the popular psychology that we know. For example, the familiar concepts of “extrovert” and “introvert”, the theory of the division into the “logical” left hemisphere and the “creative” right (however, refuted by neuropsychologists in recent years), psychological types that laid the foundation for the insanely popular near-psychological typology in recent times - socionics. And also, of course, his theory of the subconscious - an analogue of the unconscious of Sigmund Freud. However, unlike Freud, who called the unconscious a repository of repressed aspirations and impulses, Jung’s subconscious is a storehouse of personal resources that can be relied upon in the process of development and self-knowledge, as well as the key to universal human resources, mythological, similar among all peoples and reflected in symbols .

Jung believed that the subconscious speaks to us through dreams, in the language of symbols. His chapter begins with the interpretation of dreams. He excites the reader's imagination, touching on many inexplicable things, such as poltergeists, helping spirits and spirit possession, myth and the divine, speaking of all this as something ordinary and absolutely existing, which immediately immerses one in the magical world. reality, the same world of the subconscious that Jung himself felt so well and with which his whole life was permeated.

Next, Jung sheds light on the relationship with his teacher Sigmund Freud, who was in fact much more than a teacher - practically, a spiritual father, and the break with whom Jung was very worried, but nevertheless - made the choice that every grown child makes an authoritarian parent - to live the way they want him to, or to be true to himself. He talks about Freud's teachings and the method of free association, and how he realized that some dreams need to be analyzed literally, not using Freud's system of symbolism, but based on the individual system of meanings of each individual person. He talks about dreams-lessons and warnings, dreams-initiations, practically returning to them the value that ancient peoples attached to them, believing that dreams are a conversation with the gods. In essence, Jung again elevated dreams from being merely a symbolic message from the sexually frustrated instinctual, animal part to a full-fledged mystical experience. He goes on to define archetype and symbol in a dream, giving many fascinating examples from practice.

Parts of the book written by Jung's students. The finale of the work and life of the great psychoanalyst

Joseph L. Henderson talks about ancient myths in the life of modern man, the archetype of the Hero and his battle with the beast, Beauty and the Beast, Anime and Animus, Trickster and Shadow, the archetype of Initiation, the Dionysian cult and the image of a beautiful youth, a young god who is sacrificed , as well as about the Christian traditions of European society, which are sometimes observed even by non-believers - precisely because they bring us closer to this eternal myth, common to all humanity. Death and rebirth, transcendence and the Self, the eternal cycle of life and death in nature - this image was probably most inspired by the moods and fantasies of Jung, who in those days was comprehending his life and was already preparing for his departure.

Next, Aniella Jaffe talks about symbols in fine art, about famous dreams that have become immortal religious subjects, and about the symbol of the circle or Mandala, about the secret soul of things and the escape from reality, penetration into form and color. This part requires the most thoughtful reading and is filled with deep meanings that flow into each other, and also allows the reader to give free rein to his imagination.

The next part was written by Jolanta Jacobi and talks about the individual symbolism of the patient. A case study is described in detail: the patient's dreams, his aspirations and symbols of his subconscious, his progress over many sessions. This part is of greatest practical importance to those who want to engage in Jungian psychoanalysis or self-analysis.

The conclusion is written by Marie-Louise von Franz and summarizes the meaning of Jung's work, the importance of the subconscious for science, and also draws parallels between such seemingly distant sciences as psychology and physics. The prerequisite for this, apparently, is Jung's collaboration in the last years of his life with the physicist Wolfgang Pauli, as a result of which both were convinced that both physics and psychology were only different approaches to the same hidden reality, which could not be comprehended only one of them, but only both together from different sides, complementing each other.

Having barely finished the book and given the last instructions to his students, Carl Gustav Jung fell ill and died some time later at his home in Küsnacht at the age of 86. This was 6 years after the death of his wife Emma, ​​whom he loved very much and with whom he lived together for 53 years. Jung's wife practiced psychotherapy using his method until the end of her life, being completely faithful to the ideas of her husband. After Jung's death, some time later, lightning struck a tree in the yard of his house, under which he loved to sit, and burned it to the ground. Many perceived this as a bright greeting from oblivion, the same physical phenomenon caused by spiritual reasons and having a deep symbolic meaning, the likes of which he described in his last work.

List of used literature:

1. Jung K.G., Franz M.L., Henderson J. “Man and his symbols.” - 1964
2. Jung K. G. Liber Novus. Red Book. - Samizdat
3. “Carl Gustav Jung. Biography, worldview, quotes in 60 minutes.” - “Vector”, 2006
4. Jung K.G. "Memories, dreams, reflections." Per. Aniella Yaffe. - M. "Harvest", 2003

Editor: Chekardina Elizaveta Yurievna

Man and his symbols

Thank you for downloading the book from the free electronic library http://filosoff.org/ Enjoy reading! Jung Carl Gustav The Man and His Symbols. A person uses the spoken or written word to convey some meaningful message to others. Moreover, in addition to word-symbols, of which there are so many in any language, words-designations, or a kind of identification marks that are not strictly descriptive, are often used. These are abbreviations representing a series of capital letters (UN, UNICEF, UNESCO), well-known trademarks, patented drug names, military insignia. Having no meaning in themselves, they became recognizable in the course of everyday or purposeful use. Such words are not symbols, but signs that only name the objects to which they are assigned. We call a symbol a term, name or even an image that, in addition to its commonly used meaning, also has a special additional meaning, carrying something vague and unknown. Many monuments of Cretan culture, for example, are marked with the sign of double adzes. This is an object familiar to us, but its secret meaning is hidden from us. Or let's take another example: one Indian, having visited Great Britain, later told his friends that the British revere animals. He discovered images of an eagle, a lion and a bull in old Protestant churches, but had no idea (like many Christians) that these animals symbolized the authors of the Gospels. In turn, the roots of this symbolism extend to the vision of Ezekiel, and it has an analogue in the Egyptian myth of the sun god Horus and his four sons. An even more striking example is the wheel and cross known to everyone. In the appropriate context, they also have a symbolic meaning, which is still the subject of debate. Consequently, symbolic is a word or image whose meaning goes beyond the direct and cannot be precisely defined or explained. When the mind tries to grasp a certain symbol, it inevitably comes to ideas that lie beyond logic. Thinking about the wheel as an image of the “divine” sun brings the mind to a threshold beyond which it must admit its incompetence, for it is impossible to define “divine.” By calling something “divine,” we, acting within the boundaries of our mind, only give a name, relying only on faith, but not on facts. There are countless phenomena in the world that go beyond human understanding. We constantly resort to symbolic terminology to refer to concepts that we cannot define or accurately understand. This is why all religions use symbolic language, both verbal and visual. However, this conscious use of symbols is only one aspect of a psychological phenomenon of great importance: man himself also produces symbols - unconsciously and spontaneously - in the form of dreams. This thesis is not easy to accept, but it is necessary if we want to learn more about the ways in which the human mind functions. If we think a little, it becomes clear to us that a person is not able to perceive or understand anything completely. His ability to see, hear, touch or feel always depends on the training of the corresponding organs, the degree of which determines the boundaries of perception of the surrounding world. This limitation can be partially overcome with the help of appropriate instruments. Binoculars improve vision, and a sound amplifier improves hearing. However, even the most advanced devices can only bring distant objects closer or make barely audible sounds audible. Whatever instruments we use, at some point we will approach a threshold beyond which uncertainty begins. Our knowledge cannot help the mind cross this threshold. In addition to those discussed, there are also subconscious aspects of our perception of reality. One of them is that when our senses react to real circumstances, objects and sounds, the latter are somehow transferred from the realm of reality to the realm of the mind, where they become moments of the psyche, the deep essence of which is unknowable (for the psyche is not capable of knowing itself). myself). Thus, any perception of reality involves countless unknown factors, not to mention the fact that any given object is ultimately always incomprehensible to us, like the underlying nature of matter itself. Individual circumstances, in addition, do not affect our conscious attention, but are nevertheless unconsciously perceived and remain with us without crossing the threshold of consciousness. We can notice them only on a whim or after concentrated thought, when we remember that an event actually took place, but was ignored due to its insignificance. This memory rose from the depths of the subconscious and was recorded as an afterthought, but could have taken the form of a dream. As a rule, in dreams unconsciously perceived aspects of events appear to us, not in rational, but in symbolic and figurative form. Historical fact. It was the study of dreams that first allowed psychologists to explore the subconscious aspects of consciously perceived psychic phenomena. It is on this evidence that psychologists rely, admitting the existence of the subconscious part of the psyche, although many scientists and psychologists deny this possibility, naively pointing out that it implies the existence of two “subjects” or, more simply, two personalities in one person. This, however, is in fact a reality. One of the misfortunes that modern man suffers from is split personality. And this is not a pathology, but a common phenomenon observed everywhere. A person whose right hand does not know what his left hand is doing is not just a neurotic. Such a difficulty is a symptom of a general unconsciousness of behavior, undoubtedly inherited by all humanity. Human consciousness developed slowly and difficultly. Many centuries passed until this process brought him onto the path of culture (the beginning of which is incorrectly dated to the fourth millennium BC, when writing came into use). The evolution of human consciousness is far from complete: after all, large areas of the mind are still immersed in darkness. And what we call the psyche is in no way identical to consciousness. Those who deny the existence of the subconscious actually argue that our current knowledge of the psyche is exhaustive. And such an opinion is clearly as false as the assumption that we know absolutely everything about the universe. Our psyche is part of the world around us, and its mystery is also limitless. Therefore, we cannot define either one or the other. We can only claim that we believe in their existence and describe their functioning as best we can. In addition to the accumulated results of medical research, there are also serious logical arguments against claims about the non-existence of the subconscious. Proponents of this point of view express the age-old "misoneism" - the fear of the new and unknown. This opposition to the idea of ​​the existence of an unknown part of the human psyche has its tenacious roots, because consciousness is a very recent acquisition of existence and is still in the process of becoming. It is fragile, subject to specific hazards and easily injured. Anthropologists have noticed that one of the most common mental disorders among primitive people was, in their language, “loss of soul,” or disorder (in scientific terms, dissociation) of consciousness. Among people of the past, whose level of consciousness was different from ours, the soul (psyche) was not perceived as something whole. Many believed that every person, in addition to an ordinary soul, also has a so-called “forest soul”, embodied in the animal and plant with which he has a certain psychic relationship. The famous French ethnologist L. Lévy-Bruhl called these ideas “mystical participation.” He later abandoned this term under pressure from unfriendly criticism, but I am sure he is right. In psychology, the phenomenon of such a subconscious unity of one individual with another person or object is well known. Among primitive people this kinship took many forms. If the “forest soul” lived in any animal, then it was considered a kind of brother to the person. It was assumed that a person with a crocodile as a brother could, for example, calmly splash around in a river infested with alligators. To have a "forest soul" in a tree signified the parental power of that tree over the individual. In both cases it was understood that insulting the “forest soul” was equal to insulting a person. Some tribes believed that a person has several souls. Such a worldview reflected the belief of individual primitive people that they consisted of several interconnected but different parts. This means that the individual psyche was far from harmonious integrity. On the contrary, she threatened to fall apart under the pressure of uncontrollable emotions. Although this situation is known to us only from the work of anthropologists, it is not at all as far from modern reality as it might seem. We too can become dissociated and lose our individuality. We may find ourselves at the mercy of our moods, and thus greatly changed; we can lose prudence and memory of self-evident things concerning ourselves and our loved ones to such an extent that we provoke the question: “What demon has possessed you?” We are talking about the possibility of self-control, but rarely does anyone manage to master this wonderful quality. We may think we have control over ourselves, but our friends can easily see things in us that we don't even imagine. Without a doubt, even with a high, from our point of view, level of civilization, human consciousness has not yet reached the level of continuity. It is still vulnerable and subject to fragmentation. At the same time, the ability to isolate part of the mind is very valuable. It allows us to focus on one thing, turning off everything that can distract our attention, and suppressing part of the psyche for this. The main question, however, is whether we do this consciously or whether it happens spontaneously, without our knowledge or consent, or even against our desire. In the first case, such an ability is an achievement of civilization; in the second, it is a primitive “loss of soul” or even a neurotic pathology. Thus, even today, the unity of consciousness is still an unreliable thing - it is too easily interrupted. And the ability to control emotions, which is very useful on the one hand, on the other, looks rather doubtful, because it deprives human relationships of diversity, brightness and warmth. It is against this background that we will consider the meaning of dreams - these unsteady, elusive, short-lived, vague and indefinite fantasies. To explain my position, I would like to describe how it has evolved and how I have come to the conclusion that dreams are the most widespread and accessible source for studying the ability of people to generate symbols. Sigmund Freud was the first to attempt to empirically explore the subconscious background of consciousness. In his work, he proceeded from the general assumption that dreams are not random, but are associated with consciously experienced thoughts and problems. This assumption was based on the thesis of prominent neurologists (including Pierre Janet) about the connection of neurotic symptoms with specific conscious experiences. They seem to arise in disconnected areas of the waking mind that can turn back on at other times and under other conditions. At the end of the last century, Sigmund Freud and Joseph Breuer came to the conclusion that neurotic symptoms - hysteria, certain types of pain, abnormal behavior - also have a symbolic meaning. Like dreams, they are a way of self-expression of the subconscious part of the mind and also carry a symbolic load. For example, a patient faced with an intolerable situation may experience a spasm when swallowing: the memory of it makes him choke. In a similar situation, another patient begins to have an asthma attack: he is depressed by the “atmosphere at home.” The third suffers from a special form of paralysis of the legs; he does not walk, since it is impossible to “move forward” further. The fourth one is being tortured

Carl Gustav Jung and followers

Man and his symbols

John Freeman

Introduction

The circumstances of the publication of this book are quite unusual and interesting for this reason alone, especially since they are directly related to its content and intention. So let me talk about how the book was written.

One spring day in 1959, the BBC (British Broadcasting Corporation) approached me with an offer to interview Dr. Carl Gustav Jung for British television. The interview was supposed to be “in-depth.” At that time, I didn’t know much about Jung himself and his work, but soon I decided to meet him, which took place in his luxurious house on the shores of Lake Zurich. It was the beginning of a great friendship that meant so much to me and, I hope, brought pleasant moments to Jung during the last years of his life. This is, perhaps, the limit of the role of the television interview in my story. The main thing is that it turned out to be successful and led, by a strange coincidence, to the appearance of this book.

One of those who saw the interview on TV was the executive director of the publishing house Aldous Books, Wolfgang Vodges. Voges has watched with keen interest the evolution of modern psychology since his family settled next door to the Freuds in Vienna. He looked at Jung talking about his life, work and ideas, and suddenly thought: what a pity that Jung never tried to reach a wider circle of readers. After all, any educated person in the Western world is well aware of Jung's views, but for the general public they are considered difficult to understand. In fact, Fodges is the true creator of "Man and His Symbols." Watching the interview and sensing the warmth of the relationship between Jung and me, he asked if he could count on me to try to persuade Jung to formulate his most important basic ideas in a way and in a way that would be understandable and interesting to non-specialist readers. I seized on this idea and went to Zurich, deciding to myself that I must convey to Jung the value and importance of such work. Sitting in the garden, Jung listened to my arguments for two hours straight, almost without interruption, and finally said “no.” The refusal was couched in the most affectionate and benevolent form, but there was an indisputable steadfastness in his voice: he had never before tried to popularize his work and now was not at all confident in the possibility of achieving success. In any case, his age and accumulated fatigue did not contribute to his passionate desire to participate in such an enterprise, which was very dubious from his point of view.

All of Jung's friends were unanimous in the opinion that his decisions were optimal. Jung approached any problem with great care and without haste, and the final solution was usually irrevocable. I returned to London in the greatest disappointment, because I was convinced that Jung's refusal was final. This would all have ended if not for two factors I did not take into account. One was the stubbornness of Fodges, who insisted on one more attempt at appealing to Jung before admitting our defeat. The second is an accident that still amazes me.

The TV show, as I already said, was a success. As a result, Jung began to receive a great many letters from completely different people, most of them ordinary spectators, without medical or psychological training, who were captivated and enchanted by the presence of mind, humor and modest charm of this truly great man, who managed to capture something in the life of the human personality that might be useful to them. Jung was in a joyful mood, not simply because he received many letters (his correspondence was always enormous), but because he received them from people who would never normally have contacted him. At this moment he had a dream that was of great significance. (After reading this book, you will understand how important he was.) He dreamed that, instead of the usual communication in the office with many psychiatrists and doctors of other specialties constantly calling him from all over the world, he stood in some public place and addressed many people who listened to his every word and understood everything that he speaks. When, a week or two later, Fodges repeated his request for the possibility of publishing an illustrated book - not for doctors or philosophers, but for people in the marketplace - Jung allowed himself to be persuaded. He set two conditions. First: the book will not be written by him alone, but also by a group of his close followers, on whom he has already relied more than once, propagating his teachings. Second: the solution of all coordination tasks and work problems that usually arise between authors and publishers is assigned to me.

Lest this introduction seem to exceed the reasonable bounds of modesty, let me say that I was satisfied with the second condition, although I did not jump for joy. The fact is that quite soon I understood why Jung chose me: in essence, for him I was a sensible, but ordinary person, not particularly educated in the field of psychology. In other words, for him I was an “ordinary average reader” of his book: what was understandable to me should have been intelligible to everyone else; what I couldn’t figure out was too difficult or too much for others to handle. Not overly deluded by this assessment of my role, I nevertheless scrupulously insisted (sometimes fearing that I would infuriate the authors) on reading each paragraph and, if necessary, on its revision until the text became clear and precise. I can now say with my hand on my heart that this book is entirely addressed to the general reader and that the complex topics it deals with are treated with a rare and encouraging simplicity.

After much thought and much discussion, it was decided that the most comprehensive subject of the book would be Man and his symbols, and Jung himself selected the following collaborators for the work: Marie-Louise von Franz of Zurich, perhaps his most trusted confidante and friend; Dr. Joseph L. Henderson of San Francisco, one of the most eminent and truthful followers of Jung in America; Mrs. Aniela Jaffe from Zurich, who, as a practicing psychoanalyst, was also Jung's personal confidential secretary and biographer; Dr. Yolanda Jacobi, who is the most accomplished author among the Jungians in Zurich after Jung. These four men were chosen partly because of their qualifications and experience in precisely the areas corresponding to the sections of the book assigned to them, and partly because Jung was absolutely convinced of their ability to work as a team under his leadership. Jung personally planned the structure of the entire book, supervised and directed the work of the participants in this project, and independently wrote the key chapter “On the Question of the Subconscious.”