Jung and the Novel- The World is Made of Glass

In a continuation of my blog series, Jung and the Novel, taken as an idea from David Ward-Nanney, author of Powder Dreams, (a contemporary novel which features a Jungian style analysis. David was the first to write a blog series on Jungian related novels and inspired me to write this series, as well as to read, Pilgrim by Timothy Findley (which I reviewed in a previous post) and  The World is Made of Glass, two novels which feature the noted pioneer of Psychoanalysis, Carl Gustav Jung as a main character.
The World is Made of Glass  is written by Australian author, Morris West (also author of The Devil's Advocate) who takes the reader on a wild ride as it does Carl Jung, when an unnamed woman is referred to Jung for psychotherapy.  The timing is dangerous and catalytic for both patient and analyst, since Jung has recently broken his strong alliance with his mentor, Freud as well as broken of his intimate relationship with Sabrina Speilrien, even though he still stays in touch with this patient turned lover, in addition to beginning a lifelong working and intimate relationship with Toni Wolff. 
Let's just say that both client and rock each others' worlds.
At first it surprised me that any writer would have the guts to employ the esteemed Professor Doctor C. G. Jung as a character in his novel, especially at one of the most fragile times of this highly respected psychiatrist.  But when I found out West had also had the guts to feature the devil in a novel, Jung seemed to be an easier subject.  West makes Jung so three dimensional, so well -rounded, that we are not only in the therapeutic cocoon of his study at his home at Ksnacht now that he has resigned his University teaching position and his position as a psychiatrist at the Burgholzi clinic, mostly to analysis himself as he faces the crisis of this breaks ups as well as a breakdown of his own psyche.
Beneath the fast paced riveting story, which is as much a detective story as it is a drama, West explores some highly important themes related to the as yet relatively unformed process of analysis transference and counter transference, non-judgmental acceptance on the part of the therapist in order to precipitate trust and healing, the willingness to be flexible and human within the confines of the therapeutic relationship and try whatever method may best suit the highly individualistic nature of their patient and this particular rocky and inflammatory times of their lives.

Like The Devil's Advocate, The World is Made of Glass is an incendiary novel.  It never simmers or offers simple heat from banked coals, but roils and flares, igniting not only Jung's passions but also his insights and illumination, even when dealing with the deepest depravities of the human psyche. Despite his Jung's own dissipated state, he attempts to offer healing to this damaged and suffering woman, over an intensive period of  days in which they work for almost full day sessions.Since the sessions are held at his him, Emma , Jung's wife also connects with Magda, eventually becoming her friend. West's characterizations of both Emma and Jung, famous and often written about, yet in these pages they come alive, well rounded people with their foibles and strengths fully developed.  We laugh at Jung's wit and cringe at his peasant crudeness, we feel sorry for Emma as she must deal with the intrusion of Toni Wolfe on her family, yet we see the potential of her future as both an analyst and a writer. 

The story takes place in 1913 and is based on a very brief description of a case Jung writes about in his autobiography, Memories, Dreams and Reflections.Magda Liliane Kardoss von Gamsfeld, as we come to know her, is a wealthy Russian, who has dallied in many aspects of the human existence from managing a highly respected horse breeding farm to traveling throughout Europe during the Belle Epoque to satisfy her ever escalating need for sexual encounters, which as she grows older, must become more dangerous. She is now widowed, estranged from her only daughter, bereft of the one woman who was like a mother to her,  and is hunted down by a ruthless and powerful arms dealer, hoping to capitalize and even help instigate the First World War, who is now intent on her death, because she won't become a spy, using her sexual prowess and connections.
This is heady stuff for the doctor living in the relative neutrality and intelligentsia nestled within the pristine beauty of  Swiss landscape, even though he's already having dreams of destruction and chaos.  
due to the novels construction which offers a chapter from offering her services as Magda's point of view alternating with a chapter form Jung's point of view.  What a instructive way to learn about the inner workings withing the sacred alembic of the therapeutic relationship.

West has taken on a daunting challenge and rises to it with flare, even shock at times, yet the story is believable, fascinating and an interesting take on the enigmatic figure of Jung. When people would come to visit Jung form all over the world after reading his books, some in such a state of awe, they couldn't speak, Jung would be come flustered and even, rude demanding that they just view him as a man. I'm afraid that was how would I be, if I'd been lucky enough to live during that time and meet Jung. But West did not put Jung on a pedestal, nor was he afraid of Jung's complex mind. West treated Jung as just a man. A man who could be frustrated and blustery, compassionate and wise, defeated and elated. What better way to understand Jung in all his humanity?

Books, Dreams and Active Imagination

As my mind an imagination are still struggling to build an understanding of Jung's methods and tools, the way he built his tiny village with rocks and blocks, I'm discovering how easy Active Imagination can be when your enmeshed in these books.  I just now realized I'm kind of learning the way Jung liked to - in a circular or spiral  motion, looking at his body of work from various angles.  I have about fifteen books, (many birthday gifts from my son, others library books) propped on my bed right now, (where I tend to read) not counting the ones on the floor or nightstand.  I am reading seven or eight at the same time, some are novels The Message to the Planet, by Iris Murdoch I'm reading, some are Jungian novels I'm reviewing, The World is Made of Glass, by Morris West,  The Game, by A.S. Byatt,some are books written by Jung, some are biographies of Jung and some are books reformatting Jung's theories in easier to understand terminology.  I read often while I'm off work and a number of times in the middle of the night I'll read a chapter or a few pages.  When my brain gets overtired, I switch to a novel and get lost in the story, when I'm trying to analyze a dream I'll record or an active imagination session, I'll pick up one of the non fiction books and jump around.  Some of Jung's techniques which I'm trying to assimilate right now are: archetypes, the wounded healer, active imagination and transference and counter transference. I'm pretty good with the dreams having recorded and studied my own for years.  And my recent Big Dream with the mute giant holding the jar of fireflies was recently featured on Carla Young's blog, The Daily Dreamer  where she interprets guest dreams from time to time  (another idea I ganked from David Ward-Nanney, author of Powder Dreams, a novel which features analytical sessions with a Jungian trained psychotherapist.
But some of the other material such as transference and counter transference is new, and one I need to know about given the nature of my job working with adults who have suffered traumatic brain or spinal cord injuries. 
I'm also trying to balance this with work in my garden planting jasmine and phlox (birthday gifts from my daughter), making sweet and sour chicken with baked not fried chicken and with green peppers, onions, pineapple and cherries as they made it at the Hawaiiain Gardens in Dracut, Mass.  where I lived when I was married.  and helping my granddaughter build a resort (complete with seven apartments for her Monster High dolls, stage, bistro/coffee shop, pizza stand, fashion boutique, outdoor lounging area and daycare. It's not quite the same as Jung building his tiny Swiss village in his garden, but it allows me to allow the inner child to run rampant with dolls I would have loved as a child and the freedom to be imaginative and playful.

Jung and the Novel - Pilgrim

I've already reviewed two novels which either feature Jung as an actual character or have underlying Jungian themes.  When I set out to write Shaman Circus, my conscious intention was not to highlight the Jungian concepts which guide my life, but my subconscious had a different idea and now looking back, I employed Jungian though a good bit.  That was probably due to the books which most inspired me to be a writer but also to change my life.  Namely The Magus by John Fowles and both Alice's Masque and The Chymical Wedding by Lindsay Clarke.  
I read The Magus while in my 20's during the late 1960's, and it was and still functions as the most powerful novel on both my writing and life.  At the time I'd never heard of Jung and didn't find him until later when I studied astrology, thanks to Jungian astrologer, Liz Greene, but now Jung is a constant companion on my inner journey and the changes I make in my outer life.  So I, must thank the novelists who have the insight to offer this ticket to those seekers, who may not choose the literal psychological path but prefer their lessons in the form of stories (as Jung, knowing his own love for stories, approves).
 I've already reviewed Powder Dreams (2011) by David Nanney and The Water Theatre, (2010) by Lindsay Clarke and plan to review the following books over the course of the next few months.  Luckily for me in my voracious appetite for Jungian styled novels, the list keeps growing. The books I plan to review (at this moment, I'll add more as I find them, range in settings all over the world and in time periods which go back centuries (as in Pilgrim), through the the era of the post-modern novel and psychological literature up until the current day.
Here they are but not in the order with which I'll review them: The Magus, (1965) Alice's Masque,(1994)  The Chymical Wedding,(1989) Lemprierre's Dictionary (1992) by Lawrence Norfolk, Pilgrim (2001) by Timothy Findley  The World is Made of Glass, (1987) by  Morris West, The Game (1992) by A.S. Byatt, The Interpretation of a Murder 2007 (by Jed Rubenfeld.  

And now onto Pilgrim by Timothy Findley published in 2010. What a beguiling tale and Findley has a lot more confidence than I suspect I'll ever have in that he actually features Jung as one of the main characters and what fun it is, even as it's a lesson in personal hopes, failures, regressions, and ultimate growth.  I would love to be in therapy with y Jung even more now, as Findley presents the young psychiatrist as a complex character, at times earthy and peasant like, at others full of compassion and then also as the abstract mystical thinker combined with the sleuth of the mind that we've come to expect from Jung's own biography, Memories, Dreams and Reflections.  
And an even more of an uncanny gift in Pilgrim, is the main character, a mute giant, an elegant man both brilliant and refined, who is admitted to the Burghölzli Psychiatric Clinic in Zurich where Jung is just starting out on his career.  A mysterious woman, one of the two white ghosts, as Pilgrim's nurses aid in the hospital will describe them, descends upon the Clinic like the wrath and pleading of angels indeed, hauling her ailing friend, a tall man with wings, into the clinic begging for an audience with Jung and pleading with him to heal her friend.
Findley is one of the most elegant authors I've ever read and is the foremost author in Canada.  His prose, pebbled with insights, cultural, historical, and art references, augmented by brilliant metaphor and descriptions is so splendidly balanced with action, that the reader is mesmerized. The characters are so finely and intricately developed that one is held in a state of awe as each chapter unfolds, and their dialogue which can run the gamut form poignant to sarcastic all on the same page allows the reader to participate as if they are present, but overwhelmed by all they experience can't yet speak until after a period of debriefing the myriad webs and knots and tangles.  Part literary tour de force, part mystery, we are captivated and stumped by this Pilgrim, who must be immortal to have experienced such diverse lives and explains them not in conversation, but in a diary his friend, Sybil Quartermain shares and which Jung passes on to his wife Emma to read and interpret and Jung tries, often unsuccessfully, to deal with his patient, and other patients suffering from dementia praecox, as schizophrenia was called at the time, while at the same time encountering his own inner demons.
 There are many beautiful metaphors in Pilgrim, but one, threaded throughout the entire book, illuminates the paradox of a delicate but dangerous bittersweet hope, that of the butterfly, the symbol for the goddess Psyche. For me, in Pilgrim, never has the human psyche been more fully portrayed, explaining the various stages of human spiritual growth and transformation, which Jung knew so well having experienced it in his descent to the subconscious in the days of The Red Book. Especially poignant is the connection the pupa stage, where the caterpillar, while it must discover its true nature in its secret hideout, must helplessly remain without any defense against the cruelty of  the predators and even the nature of the  world, in order to grow into the being it was meant to be all along.  And the next stage, emergence, when the pupa disintegrates all around the new creature, leaving it highly exposed and uncertain, still wet, feeling naked and alone with its hard to understand new skin, if lucky may live long enough to unfurl its wings and become authentic, a stunning aerial creature of much muchness, the closest we can be to angels on earth, and what we were ultimately meant to be, if only we dare. 

What a work of art this novel is. 

Jung and the novel - Powder Dreams

I just finished Powder Dreams by David Ward-Nanney and I found it to be a riveting tale, which I hope to see more of as contemporary individuals search for a life of meaning. It's a deceptively complex book and pushes so many buttons, - so many things to address. The reader can't help but connect with Bo, despite his flaws, despite his mistakes. We want to be him when he's on the slopes, not just with him (until a certain incident); but when he entered analysis - that's when I saw his real strength. There were times I had to put the book down for a short while because I felt squirmy, as if I were sitting in that chair across from Dr. Attfield - I was terrified on a visceral level. 
This book is packed with so much, it starts off kind of laid back, like Bo's lifestyle. But when it picks up, there's so much going on your head is spinning, all these undercurrents: from dangerous deep powder skiing to dealing with for floor of The Chicago stock market' from drug dealers to corporate business and the Martha Stewarts of that world; from fragmenting to finding to pull back together again.

There's commentary galore, but what it's really about is people, how people screw up, how people struggle, how people enter those liminal zones, those transitory grey areas where they don't know what's right for them anymore. 

We come to like and really care about so many of the characters, Dr, Kalb, Pearson, and Claire, Abbie, even Marty, who tries to get what he wants via the wrong methods.  

Bo embarks on lifestyles, a number of diverse lifestyles, widely different from each one previous, lifestyles most people envy, yet he tosses them away, a feeling that "something's not quite right, a yearning for something more, a way to feel authentic and yet still function in the adult world which he avoided longer than most. All set against a rollicking contemporary journey across the United States and beyond, into the internal world, the world of Jung, archetypes and powerful forces: tricksters and puer aeternus, the anima and the hero.When the fissures appear, and everything comes crumbling down  - Bo emerges as someone who can and can't take it - he has bouts of disillusionment with those who he trusted (friends, father, bosses) or those he should respect, he feels regret when looking back on things he would change.

I come to this novel from a variety of viewpoints, early on as the mom of a son who goes for the risk taking  sports, although my son chose car racing and skateboarding - he had the same yearnings, the need for freedom, for speed, for risk and the power of the human body tor endure and outwit them.   


I also approach Nanney's tale simply as a reader who wants to be swept away to another kind of life (which he did) and since I'm also an author and from my experience as an editor at Shadow Archer Press and Fissure Magazine, I read with a more critical eye looking how he connects with an audience, writes technically well, handles plot.  As an editor, I'm always searching for a great story, but most of all,  how he treats and develops his protagonist and characters, giving them obstacles and rewards to ensure their growth as human beings.  


And then I come to his novel as another seeker on the path of Jung.  I've read his books, as well as books about him for 29 years or more.  I've gone through therapy (not with Jungians) three or four times in my life, during crisis periods and loved it, I've studied my dreams and learned to live my life using the Jungian Types, archetypes and techniques most of my adult life.
As I write,  I discover my novels act as stages where my personal archetypes speak from somewhere in my subconscious, even before I realize it. Are we not all enduring the same human struggles going on over the centuries, power, will, the desire for fame, the desire for freedom, love, temptation and regret, forgiveness, hope and trust?
  All of these are human realities, lived and explored from ancient times, exploding or culled form the deepest reaches of our innermost selves.  A self often hidden, rejected and feared.  Yet Bo, rises to the challenge, ever an adventurer, one who learns to manage fear one step at a time, he takes the more difficult path in the office of Dr. Attfield, the most challenging task he will ever attempt, one which could bury him, like Nietzsche, like Goethe, like Morrison and Cobain.  he takes up the task of getting to the other side, a place he sought along,  and is wise enough to seek out a guide, A Jungian analyst.  My only disappointment with the book is how Bo left Dr. Attfield's sessions so abruptly, unfinished, I felt - perhaps there was a complicated transference with the father figure - which he didn't want to address, thereby leaving the therapist before he fully dealt with the father figure. I didn't want the sessions to stop - as I read them, I learned about myself, recognized some of my own repressed complexes, my own resistances. 

The complex and hard to pin Jungian type of therapy is hard to explore in a contemporary novel, without getting the reader lost in terminology or abstract dreams. There are aspects which date back to the archaic, not compatible with  what we would consider everyday life even when it enters such urban  pressure cookers as the stock market and drug world, yet Nanney pulls it off.  He has already led us down the fool's path on the journey and we're helpless to step off, until we too, as readers, endure the trials and powerful transformations of a system compared to the Eleusinian mysteries. I read this over the course of a few very busy days, savoring it, yet wanting to get back to it, even as my mind spiraled reassessing my own path in life.  Don't miss this thought provoking contemporary novel - it could have a  powerful and profound on the way you think and experience life.

A birthday dream from Jung

What a way to start a birthday - a guest appearance in my dreams with Dr. C. G. Jung himself!  Heady stuff!  And I remembered it!  It was a simple, but an unusual dream, not quite pleasant.  I was at the Burgholzi Clinic in Zurich and Dr. Jung asked us to all bring our "patients" into a room so he could see how we were doing.  At first we were all worried, what would all these unusual people do with each other?  Would there be trouble?  Would they get along?
So I left and got my patient (I never saw myself in the dream, I just know it was me in my own skin walking around and doing things. I never talked.)  I came back with my "patient" who was a large teddy bear sort of man, mute, who carried a large mason jar fulls of lightening bugs.  He moves very slowly - as in a dream within my dream, sort of  "not with it," a lumbering giant.  There wasn't much action after this, even when other people brought in their "patients."  We were all rather mesmerized by the beauty of the light in the jar, but also the bittersweet sadness of them being trapped in a jar.  The man, himself, was sad and poignant, not quite sure what to do.

Well, if this isn't a call from Dr. Jung for me to wake up and get my archetypes ("patients") to get together and have a chat! But it's frightening to think that if all these patients are my archetypes, then are all the individual analysts who treat these patients split off too?  That's why I need Jung to get all these analysts to talk to each other before they can help their "patients!" I see the jar of butterflies  as "illumination/enlightenment" trapped in the jar, beautiful but sad and wrong.  The man - I guess a big lumbering part of me, my "depressed, confused" self  isn't sure what to do - he wants to keep the illumination so it won't go away, but he too is sad they are trapped. 

I am in one of those transitional times, turning 61 today, walking the road to individuation, charting my dreams each morning, taking time to ruminate and figure them out, reading lots of books, by, on, about Jung. It's a time when I feel as if I'm running out of time.  I need more time to work with my clients, to spend with my daughter, son and granddaughters, to teach my oldest granddaughter more about art and writing, to finish two novels and edit three, as well as write a fifth which is already in my head, to draw, to paint, to visit far away friends.
 I've been reading Pilgrim now having finished Powder Dreams (review to come soon I promise) and Jung is a character in Pilgrim, who is treating a mute.  The lightening bugs in the jar came from a movie I took my granddaughter to see on Saturday, Journey to the Center of the Earth 2, where there were lightening bugs in jars.  The large teddy bear man I do not know.  He's not one of the archetypes I recognize.  The patient in Pilgrim is not a large teddy bear like man, although he is tall. My father was not a large teddy bear like man. Since I'm very short, I have never dated very tall teddy bear like men - so this part has me stumped.

Could this be an aspect of my Self?  I know a bit about Jung's techniques but only from reading books. I know I've been a wee bit fractured (well, maybe more than that lately)  Jacob - my animus, a Hermes, trickster, a witty instigator and courageous change-monger type figure, who has been popping up in everyday life when I least expect it, saying things I'm not smart or courageous enough to say, sometimes shocking people, sometimes causing trouble.  And then my editor archetype, bossy, controlling but really wanting the best for people - only from her perspective has been flashing her persona as well.  But Ishtar prevails in the evenings or early mornings, when I'm alone, reading, thinking, going into the depths, writing my dreams down and using active imagination when I'm awake, which sometimes even appears when I'm not looking for it. (which is one of the best gifts while I'm writing a novel, but I'm only writing in spurts now, mostly just thinking).
 I wish there was a Jungian analyst in Greenville, because I'd be there in a heartbeat. But the nearest one is in Asheville, NC and I've researched them and may try and start with one.  But it would be so much easier in Greenville?  Why can't this city be as progressive as Asheville.  More than 100 people showed up for George Frein's talk on Jung's Red Book at our museum!  So now I throw a tantrum like a spoiled child.  I am however also looking into a dream group and hope to start when they begin their next session.

So my plan is to keep thinking about this dream, do research on lightening bugs and their metaphors and symbolic meanings (I learned from Pilgrim that the goddess, Psyche is symbolized by butterflies) and hope that a future dream will help me talk to the silent man and see if he thinks the lightening bugs might be even more beautiful flying free around all of us in the room. I may even have to draw this one to make it even more graphic in my mind - get the two hemispheres of my brain to figure this all out.

Maybe, Dr. Professor Jung will grace me with his appearance once again!
  p.s. Anyone who knows me, knows I am addicted to pomegranate seeds  (recovering Persephone)  and yesterday (before this dream) my granddaughter and I had an adventure at Trader Joe's. And guess what she found for both of us? Dark chocolate covered pomegranate seeds! Is this git or temptation from the synchronisitic universe?

Powder Dreams by David Ward-Nanney

My Amazon package arrived with three great books on Thursday.  I just started Powder Dreams that night and have only had evenings to read it after work, but I'm already along for David Ward-Nanney's wild ride. Be forewarned, there are a few mild spoilers in there. The style is more straightforward than I've been reading lately (what with rereading some of my favorite books by A.S. Byatt and Iris Murdoch.  So I was in for a bit of a culture shock, but the story is a great story so far and I haven't even reached the Jungian part yet (a realistic section about the protagonist undergoing analysis, form what I've read in the reviews by Jungian analysts), which was why I bought it.  Since my son is a skateboarder, I can relate to how he writes about skiing to a degree - I know it;'s not the same but there's an element there that draws people like my son to being able to ride the "air," not to mention the whole aspects of speed and control.
Ward.-Nanney's description of being buried beneath an avalanche was a revelation and frightening at the same time.  I can't believe his ability to reason while in such a situation.  The one part of his brain was so professional, so oddly detached, allowing him to think and find a way to let his skiing buddy rescue him.  A brilliant piece of writing so far - gonna go off and see how much I can read today in between movies with my granddaughter, Kendall. 

Jung's influence on the Novel - a plan

I've devised a new plan of study which I think will be highly entertaining and enlightening for me as a novelist (attempting to finish two novels and edit another.)
 I can't believe I've never though of it before. But it will be a study of novels influenced by Jung o the type of thought Jung taught. The idea came to me thanks to an amazing confluence of events, books, music influences brings the spiral around to one of those pivotal transitory times.  In the past few weeks, I've attended the Jung webinar on the film, A Dangerous Method, read a ton of books on Jung and by Jung, taken my granddaughter to art shows, cello concerts and have just had fun playing with her and her Monster High collection - all circling around, as Jung liked to do in his writings to view a concept from every possible angle.  Of course, with me the astrological and alchemical aspects are always flitting through my mind as I dive in and then attempt to stand back and observe. Books are once again fining their way to me after being referenced in some other, sometimes obscure volume and some quite by accident. New authors and old friends.  So now I also have a cache of Jungian style novels waiting for me even as I attempt to catalog and perhaps review the many in the past I've enjoyed and the particular stand outs (most notably, The Magus by John Fowles (unrevised edition - by far what I consider the best novel using Jungian approaches ever written - the novel which changed my life and which I read every year), Cymical Wedding and Alice's Masque by Lindsey Clarke in addition to The Virgin in the Garden and a number of other books by A.S. Byatt, not to mention books by Iris Murdoch and Doris Lessing. These all led, or sometimes even shoved, me onto my own particular journey into Jungian though and my own subconscious.  It helps that my dreams are cooperating as well, and I've once again started a dream journal, which I'd out away for a number of years.
The books I have waiting for me at the moment are Lindsay Clarke's, The Water Theatre, Timothy Findley's,  Pilgrim (where Jung is an actual character in the book) and Powder Dreams by David Ward-Nanney, where one the characters enters analysis, a topic which often defies description).   
Reviews and perhaps comparisons to come.