7

Men and Women

If man and woman were the same, that would be stalemate. The earth would be sterile.

“Men, Women, and God” (1955), C. G. Jung Speaking, p. 248.

The more a man or woman is unconsciously influenced by the parental imago, the more surely will the figure of the loved one be chosen as either a positive or a negative substitute for the parents. The far-reaching influence of the parental imago should not be considered abnormal; on the contrary, it is a very normal and therefore very common phenomenon. It is, indeed, very important that this should be so, for otherwise the parents are not reborn in the children, and the parental imago becomes so completely lost that all continuity in the life of the individual ceases. He cannot connect his childhood with his adult life, and therefore remains unconsciously a child—a situation that is the best possible foundation for a neurosis. He will then suffer from all those ills that beset parvenus without a history, be they individuals or social groups.

It is normal that children should in a certain sense marry their parents. This is just as important, psychologically, as the biological necessity to infuse new blood if the ancestral tree is to produce a good breed. It guarantees continuity, a reasonable prolongation of the past into the present. Only too much or too little in this direction is harmful.

So long as a positive or negative resemblance to the parents is the deciding factor in a love choice, the release from the parental imago, and hence from childhood, is not complete. Although childhood has to be brought along for the sake of historical continuity, this should not be at the expense of further development. When, towards middle life, the last gleam of childhood illusion fades—this it must be owned is true only of an almost ideal life, for many go as children to their graves—then the archetype of the mature man or woman emerges from the parental imago: an image of man as woman has known him from the beginning of time, and an image of woman that man carries within him eternally.

“Mind and Earth” (1927/1931), CW 10, § 74.

[W]hen you are concerned with a relationship to another human being, you are in connection with two things really, with the conscious obvious person and the unconscious person at the same time. When you analyze any kind of relationship you find a conscious and an unconscious part, which are quite unlike each other.

Visions: Notes of the Seminar Given in 1930–1934, Vol. I (11 February 1931), p. 206.

Seldom or never does a marriage develop into an individual relationship smoothly and without crises. There is no birth of consciousness without pain.

“Marriage as a Psychological Relationship” (1925), CW 17, § 331.

Most connections in the world are not relationships, they are participation mystique [mystical connection]. One is then apparently connected, but of course it is never a real connection, it is never a relationship; but it gives the feeling of being one sheep in a flock at least, which is something. While if you disqualify yourself as a sheep you are necessarily out of the flock and will suffer from a certain loneliness, despite the fact that you then have a chance to reestablish a relationship, and this time a conscious relationship, which is far more satisfactory. Participation mystique gives one a peculiar unconsciousness, which is in a way a function of the mother; one is carried in unconsciousness. Sometimes it is nice and sometimes it is not nice at all, but as a rule people prefer it because the average man gets awfully frightened when he has to do something which he cannot share with his world; he is afraid to be alone, to think something which other people don’t think, or to feel something which other people don’t feel. One is up against man’s gregarious instinct as soon as one tries to transcend the ordinary consciousness.

Visions: Notes of the Seminar Given in 1930–1934, Vol. I (9 March 1932), p. 625.

It is an almost regular occurrence for a woman to be wholly contained, spiritually, in her husband, and for a husband to be wholly contained, emotionally, in his wife. One could describe this as the problem of the “contained” and the “container.”

“Marriage as a Psychological Relationship” (1925), CW 17, § 331c.

You have experienced in your marriage what is an almost universal fact—that individuals are different from one another. Basically, each remains for the other an unfathomable enigma. There is never complete concord. If you have committed a mistake at all, it consisted in your having striven too hard to understand your wife completely and not reckoning with the fact that in the end people don’t want to know what secrets are slumbering in their souls. If you struggle too much to penetrate into another person, you find that you have thrust him into a defensive position, and resistances develop because, through your efforts to penetrate and understand, he feels forced to examine those things in himself which he doesn’t want to examine. Everybody has his dark side which—as long as all goes well—he had better not know about. That is no fault of yours. It is a universal human truth which is nevertheless true, even though there are plenty of people who will assure you that they’d be only too glad to know everything about themselves. It is as good as certain that your wife had many thoughts and feelings which made her uneasy and which she wanted to hide even from herself. That is simply human. It is also the reason why so many elderly people withdraw into their own solitude where they won’t be disturbed. And it is always about things they would rather not be too clearly conscious of. Certainly you are not responsible for the existence of these psychic contents. If nevertheless you are still tormented by guilt feelings, then consider for once what sins you have not committed which you would have liked to commit. This might perhaps cure you of your guilt feelings toward your wife.

Letter to Herr N., 1 November 1951, Letters, Vol. II, p. 27.

Hatred is the thing that divides, the force which discriminates. It is so when two people fall in love; they are at first almost identical. There is a great deal of participation mystique, so they need hatred in order to separate themselves. After a while the whole thing turns into a wild hatred; they get resistances against one another in order to force each other off—otherwise they remain in a common unconsciousness which they simply cannot stand.

The Psychology of Kundalini Yoga: Notes of the Seminar Given in 1932 (12 October, 1932), p. 5.

Where love reigns, there is no will to power; and where the will to power is paramount, love is lacking. The one is but the shadow of the other.

On the Psychology of the Unconscious (1917/1926/1943), CW 7, § 78.

An unconscious Eros always expresses itself as will to power.

“Psychological Aspects of the Mother Archetype” (1938/1954), CW 9i, § 167.

[L]ove, in the sense of concupiscentia [desire], is the dynamism that most infallibly brings the unconscious to light.

Mysterium Coniunctionis (1955–56), CW 14, § 99.

Great is he who is in love, since love is the present act of the great creator, the present moment of the becoming and lapsing of the world. Mighty is he who loves. But whoever distances himself from love, feels himself powerful.

The Red Book (1915/2009), p. 253.

[N]owadays the sexual question is spoken of as something distinct from love. The two questions should not be separated, for when there is a sexual problem it can be solved only by love. Any other solution would be a harmful substitute. Sexuality dished out as sexuality is brutish; but sexuality as an expression of love is hallowed. Therefore, never ask what a man does, but how he does it. If he does it from love or in the spirit of love, then he serves a god; and whatever he may do is not ours to judge, for it is ennobled.

“The Love Problem of a Student” (1928), CW 10, § 234.

Logos is the principle of discrimination, in contrast to Eros, which is the principle of relatedness. Eros brings things together, establishes dynamic relations between things, while the relations which Logos brings about are perhaps analogies or logical conclusions. It is typical that Logos relationships are devoid of emotional dynamics.

Dream Analysis: Notes of the Seminar Given in 1928–1930 (25 June, 1930), p. 700.

Woman’s psychology is founded on the principle of Eros, the great binder and loosener, whereas from ancient times the ruling principle ascribed to man is Logos. The concept of Eros could be ex pressed in modern terms as psychic relatedness, and that of Logos as objective interest.

“Woman in Europe” (1927), CW 10, § 255.

It is very difficult for a rational man to admit what his Eros really is. A woman has no special difficulty in realizing her Eros principle of relatedness, but it is exceedingly difficult for a man for whom Logos is the principle. Woman has difficulty realizing what her mind is. The Eros in man is inferior, as is the Logos in woman. A man must have a fair amount of the feminine in him to realize his relatedness. Eros is the job of the woman. You can fight with a man half a year before he will admit his feelings, and the same with a woman and her mind. It is so contradictory.

Dream Analysis: Notes of the Seminar Given in 1928–1930 (23 January 1929), p. 87.

Love requires depth of loyalty and feeling; without them it is not love but mere caprice. True love will always commit itself and engage in lasting ties; it needs freedom only to effect its choice, not for its accomplishment. Every true and deep love is a sacrifice. The lover sacrifices all other possibilities, or rather, the illusion that such possibilities exist. If this sacrifice is not made, his illusions prevent the growth of any deep and responsible feeling, so that the very possibility of experiencing real love is denied him.

“The Love Problem of a Student” (1928), CW 10, § 231.

The love problem is part of mankind’s heavy toll of suffering, and nobody should be ashamed of having to pay his tribute.

Analytical Psychology and Education (1926/1946), CW 17, § 219.

Love is a force of destiny whose power reaches from heaven to hell.

“The Love Problem of a Student” (1928), CW 10, § 198.

Love has more than one thing in common with religious faith. It demands unconditional trust and expects absolute surrender. Just as nobody but the believer who surrenders himself wholly to God can partake of divine grace, so love reveals its highest mysteries and its wonder only to those who are capable of unqualified devotion and loyalty of feeling. And because this is so difficult, few mortals can boast of such an achievement. But, precisely because the truest and most devoted love is also the most beautiful, let no man seek to make it easy. He is a sorry knight who shrinks from the difficulty of loving his lady. Love is like God: both give themselves only to their bravest knights.

“The Love Problem of a Student” (1928), CW 10, § 232.

The unconscious of a man is always represented by a woman; that of a woman always by a man.

“Diagnosing the Dictators” (1938), C. G. Jung Speaking, p. 129.

There is no man who could not exist without a woman—that is, he carries the necessary balance within himself if he be obliged to live his life that way, and the same thing applies to a woman with respect to a man, but if either sex is to have a complete life, it requires the other as a compensatory side.

Introduction to Jungian Psychology: Notes of the Seminar on Analytical Psychology Given in 1925, p. 114.

For two personalities to meet is like mixing two chemical substances: if there is any combination at all, both are transformed.

“Problems of Modern Psychotherapy” (1929), CW 16, § 163.

Woman is world and fate, that is why she is so important to the man.

Letter to Oskar A. H. Schmitz, 21 July 1927, Letters, Vol. II, p. xxxii.

The modern woman has become conscious of the undeniable fact that only in the state of love can she attain the highest and best of which she is capable, and this knowledge drives her to the other realization that love is beyond the law.

“Woman in Europe” (1927), CW 10, § 266.

You seek the feminine in women and the masculine in men. And thus there are always only men and women. But where are people? You, man, should not seek the feminine in women, but seek and recognize it in yourself, as you possess it from the beginning. It pleases you, however, to play at manliness, because it travels on a well-worn track. You, woman, should not seek the masculine in men, but assume the masculine in yourself, since you possess it from the beginning. But it amuses you and is easy to play at femininity, consequently man despises you because he despises his femininity. But humankind is masculine and feminine, not just man or woman. You can hardly say of your soul what sex it is. But if you pay close attention, you will see that the most masculine man has a feminine soul, and the most feminine woman has a masculine soul. The more manly you are, the more remote from you is what woman really is, since the feminine in yourself is alien and contemptuous.

The Red Book (1915/2009), p. 263.

The ensuing split between sexuality and the anima is, by the way, frequently found in men, and often manifests itself as a neglect of Eros, which is the essence of the anima. Men are rarely split off from sexuality, because it is too evident for them, but what they lack is Eros, the relational function. Men often think they can replace the relational function with reason. They are proud that they don’t let themselves be controlled by affect, because this would be womanly, tantamount to weak. No Eros, for God’s sake! This lack is what women most complain of in marriage, and is what so disappoints them. For what they seek in a man is the Eros, the capacity to relate.

Children’s Dreams: Notes from the Seminar Given in 1936–1940, p. 313.

A woman possessed by the animus is always in danger of losing her femininity, her adapted feminine persona, just as a man in like circumstances runs the risk of effeminacy. These psychic changes of sex are due entirely to the fact that a function which belongs inside has been turned outside. The reason for this perversion is clearly the failure to give adequate recognition to an inner world which stands autonomously opposed to the outer world, and makes just as serious demands on our capacity for adaptation.

The Relations between the Ego and the Unconscious (1916/1928), CW 7, § 337.

If, therefore, we speak of the anima of a man, we must logically speak of the animus of a woman, if we are to give the soul of a woman its right name. Whereas logic and objectivity are usually the predominant features of a man’s outer attitude, or are at least regarded as ideals, in the case of a woman it is feeling. But in the soul it is the other way round: inwardly it is the man who feels, and the woman who reflects. Hence a man’s greater liability to total despair, while a woman can always find comfort and hope; accordingly a man is more likely to put an end to himself than a woman.

Psychological Types (1921), CW 6, § 805.

[T]he “soul” which accrues to ego-consciousness during the opus has a feminine character in the man and a masculine character in a woman. His anima wants to reconcile and unite; her animus tries to discern and discriminate.

The Psychology of the Transference (1946), CW 16, § 522.

The anima as a friend or soror mystica [mystical sister] has always played a great role in history. In the cours d’amour [courts of love] of René d’Anjou she even takes precedence over the wife. The term maîtresse actually means mistress or master. In the Middle Ages, for example, the worship of the anima led to courtly love, in which the knight was committed to his lady and was at her service. In later history we know of women such as Madame de Maintenon, Ninon de Lenclos, or Madame de Guyon. The latter was a woman of the highest spiritual eroticism and of a strangely deep wisdom. She deserved being called a saint. It is no sign of culture if a woman is only a daughter, or only a pregnant mother, or only a whore. The primitives and also the apes do act out this one-sidedness. But should she become the femme inspiratrice [inspiring woman] oscillating between goddess and whore, representing all the doubtfulness and diversity of life, the highest skills and the highest Eros are called for. Such women are manifestations of a much more developed culture and this was known in the Middle Ages and also in Greece in its heyday.

Children’s Dreams: Notes from the Seminar Given in 1936–1940, p. 321.

[T]he animus is not created by the conscious, it is a creation of the unconscious, and therefore it is a personification of the unconscious.

Visions: Notes of the Seminar Given in 1930–1934, Vol, I (11 February 1931), pp. 208–209.

For the animus when on his way, on his quest, is really a psychopompos [mediator between conscious and unconscious], leading the soul to the stars whence it came. On the way back out of the existence in the flesh, the psychopompos develops such a cosmic aspect, he wanders among the constellations, he leads the soul over the rainbow bridge into the blossoming fields of the stars.

Visions: Notes of the Seminar Given in 1930–1934, Vol. II (13 December 1933), p. 1229.

[I]s there any more beautiful love story than the love story of Mary? Wonderfully secret, divine, it is the only love affair of God that we know about. He is the illegitimate divine lover who produces the Redeemer. So these two stages are absolutely parallel; the lover always sees in the beloved something like the Mother of God, and the loving woman sees in her lover the bringer of the divine message. The Hermes stage is the perfect, divine accomplishment, which is again beyond the human grasp.

Visions: Notes of the Seminar Given in 1930–1934, Vol. I (9 December 1931), p. 492.