The fourth stage of our newly won insight is now reached. The analytical dissolution of the infantile transference phantasies was continued until it became sufficiently clear, even to the patient, that he was making his physician into father, mother, uncle, guardian, teacher, friend or any other kind of surrogate for parental authority conceivable. But, as experience is constantly proving, further phantasies make their appearance, representing the physician as saviour or as some other divine being. Obviously this is in flagrant contradiction to the sane reasoning of consciousness. Moreover, it appears that these divine attributes considerably overstep the bounds of the Christian conception in which we grew up. They even assume the guise of heathen allurements, and, for instance, not infrequently assume the form of animals.
The transference is in itself nothing but a projection of unconscious contents on to the analyst. At first it is the so-called superficial contents that are projected. During this stage the physician is interesting as a possible lover (somewhat after the manner of the young Italian in our case). Later on, he is a representation of the father, and is the symbol either of kindness or of severity, according to what the patient formerly imputed to his real father. Occasionally the doctor even appears to the patient as a kind of mother, which, though sounding somewhat strange, really lies well within the bounds of possibility. All these projections of phantasy have an underlying basis of personal reminiscences.
But presently other forms of phantasy appear, bearing an extravagantly effusive and impossible character. The physician now appears to be endowed with uncanny qualities; he may be either a wizard or a demoniacal criminal, or his counterpart of virtue, a saviour. Later on he appears as an incomprehensible mixture of both sides. It should be clearly understood that the physician does not appear to the patient's consciousness in these forms, but that phantasies come up to the surface representing the doctor in this guise. If, as is not seldom the case, the patient cannot forthwith perceive that his view of the physician is a projection of his own unconscious, then he will probably behave rather foolishly. Difficulties often arise at this stage of analysis, making severe demands upon the good will and patience of both physician and patient. In a few exceptional cases, a patient cannot refrain from disseminating the stupidest tales about the physician. Such people cannot get it into their head that, as a matter of fact, their phantasies originate in themselves, and have nothing or very little to do with the physician's actual character. The pertinacity of this error arises from the circumstance that there is no foundation of personal memory for this particular kind of projection. It is occasionally possible to prove that similar phantasies, for which neither parent gave reasonable occasion, had at some time in childhood been attached to the father or mother.
In one of his shorter books, Freud has shown how Leonardo da Vinci was influenced in his later life by the fact that he had two mothers. The fact of the two mothers (or the double descent) had indeed a reality in Leonardo's case, but it plays a part with other artists as well. Benvenuto Cellini had this phantasy of a double descent. It is unquestionably a mythological theme; many heroes of legend have two mothers. The phantasy is not founded upon the actual fact of the hero's having two mothers, but is a widespread "primordial image" belonging to the secrets of the universal history of the human mind. It does not belong to the sphere of personal reminiscences.
In every individual, in addition to the personal memories, there are also, in Jacob Burckhardt's excellent phrase, the great "primordial images," the inherited potentialities of human imagination. They have always been potentially latent in the structure of the brain. The fact of this inheritance also explains the otherwise incredible phenomenon, that the matter and themes of certain legends are met with all the world over in identical forms. Further, it explains how it is that persons who are mentally deranged are able to produce precisely the same images and associations that are known to us from the study of old manuscripts. I gave some examples of this in my book on "The Psychology of the Unconscious." I do not hereby assert the _transmission of representations_, but only of the _possibility of such representations_, which is a very different thing.
It is therefore in this further stage of the transference that those phantasies are produced that have no basis in personal reminiscence. Here it is a matter of the manifestation of the deeper layers of the unconscious, where the primordial universally-human images are lying dormant.
This discovery leads to the fourth stage of the new conception: that is, to the recognition of a _differentiation in the unconscious itself_. We are now obliged to differentiate a personal unconscious and an impersonal or super-personal unconscious. We also term the latter the _absolute or collective_ unconscious, because it is quite detached from what is personal, and because it is also absolutely universal, wherefore its contents may be found in every head, which of course is not the case with the personal contents.
The primordial images are quite the most ancient, universal, and deep thoughts of mankind. They are feeling just as much as thought, and might therefore be termed _original thought-feelings_.
We have therewith now found the object selected by the libido when it was freed from the personal-infantile form of transference. Namely, that it sinks down into the depths of the unconscious, reviving what has been dormant there from immemorial ages. It has discovered the buried treasure out of which mankind from time to time has drawn, raising thence its gods and demons, and all those finest and most tremendous thoughts without which man would cease to be man.
Let us take as an example one of the greatest thoughts to which the nineteenth century gave birth--the idea of the _conservation of energy_. _Robert Mayer_ is the originator of this idea. He was a physician, not a physicist nor a natural philosopher, to either of whom the creation of such an idea would have been more germane. It is of great importance to realise that in the real sense of the word, Robert Mayer's idea was not _created_. Neither was it brought about through the fusion of the then-existent conceptions and scientific hypotheses. It grew in the originator, and was conditioned by him. Robert Mayer wrote (1841) to Griesinger as follows: "I by no means concocted the theory at the writing-desk." He goes on to report about certain physiological investigations that he made in 1840-41 as doctor on board ship, and continues: "If one wishes to be enlightened about physiological matters, some knowledge of physical processes is indispensable, unless one prefers to work from the metaphysical side, which is immensely distasteful to me. I therefore kept to physics, clinging to the subject with such ardour that, although it may well seem ridiculous to say so, I cared little about what part of the world we were in. I preferred to remain aboard where I could work uninterruptedly, and where many an hour gave me such a feeling of _being inspired_ in a way I can never remember having experienced either before or since.
"A few flashes of thought that thrilled through me"--this was in the harbour of Surabaja--"were immediately diligently pursued, leading again in their turn to new subjects. Those times are passed, but subsequent quiet examination _of what then emerged_, has taught me that it was a truth which can _not only be subjectively felt_, but also proved objectively; whether this could be done by _one who has so little knowledge_ of physics as I have, is a matter which obviously, I must leave undecided."
Heim, in his book on Energetics, expresses the opinion: "that Robert Mayer's new thought did not gradually detach itself by dint of revolving it in his mind, from the conceptions of power transmitted from the past, _but belongs to those ideas that are intuitively conceived, which, originating in other spheres of a mental kind, surprise thought, as it were, compelling it to transform its inherited notions conformably with those ideas_."
The question now arises, whence did this new idea that forced itself upon consciousness with such elemental power spring? And whence did it derive such strength that it was able to effect consciousness so forcibly that it could be completely withdrawn from all the manifold impressions of a first voyage in the tropics? These questions are not easy to answer. If we apply our theory to this case the explanation would run as follows: _The idea of energy and of its conservation must be a primordial image that lay dormant in the absolute unconscious_. This conclusion obviously compels us to prove that a similar primordial image did really exist in the history of the human mind, and continued to be effective through thousands of years. As a matter of fact, evidence of this can be produced without difficulty. _Primitive religions, in the most dissimilar regions of the earth, are founded upon this image._ These are the so-called _dynamistic religions_, whose sole and distinctive thought is the existence of some universal magical power upon which everything depends. The well-known English scholars, Taylor and Frazer, both wrongly interpreted this idea as animism. Primitive peoples do not mean souls or spirits by their conception of power, but in reality something that the American investigator _Lovejoy_[241] most aptly terms "primitive energetics."
In an investigation appertaining to this subject, I showed that this notion comprises the idea of soul, spirit, God, health, physical strength, fertility, magic power, influence, might, prestige, curative remedies, as well as certain states of mind which are characterised by the setting loose of affects. Among certain Polynesians "Melungu" (that is this primitive concept of energy) is spirit, soul, demoniacal being, magic, prestige. If anything astonishing happens, the people cry "Melungu." This notion of power is also the first rendering of the concept of God among primitive peoples. The image has undergone many variations in the course of history. In the Old Testament this magic power is seen in the burning bush, and shines in the face of Moses. It is manifest in the Gospels as the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, as cloven tongues of fire from heaven. In Heraclitus it appears as universal energy, as "eternally living fire"; for the Persians it is the fiery brightness, haôma, divine mercy; for the Stoics it is heimarmene, the power of destiny. In mediæval legend it is seen as the aura, or the halo of the saint. It blazes forth in great flames from the hut where the saint is lying in ecstasy. The saints reflect the sum of this power, the storehouse of light, in their faces. According to ancient concepts this power is the soul itself; the idea of its immortality contains that of its _conservation_. The Buddhistic and primitive conception of the metempsychosis (transmigration of souls) contains the idea of its _unlimited capacity for transformation under constant conservation_.
This thought has obviously therefore been imprinted on the human brain for untold ages. That is why it lies ready in the unconscious of every one. Only certain conditions are needed in order to let it appear again. These conditions were obviously fulfilled in the example of Robert Mayer. The greatest and best thoughts form themselves upon these primordial images, which are the ancient common property of humanity.
After this instance of the nascence of new ideas out of the treasury of primordial images, we will resume the further delineation of the process of transference. It was seen that the libido of the patient seizes upon its new object in those apparently preposterous and peculiar phantasies, namely the contents of the absolute unconscious. As I already observed, the unacknowledged projection of primordial images upon the physician constitutes a danger for further treatment which should not be undervalued. The images contain not only every beautiful and great thought and feeling of humanity, but also every deed of shame and devilry of which human beings have ever been capable. Now, if the patient cannot differentiate the physician's personality from these projections, there is an end to mutual understanding, and human relations become impossible. If however the patient avoids this Charybdis, he falls into the Scylla of _introjecting_ these images, that is, he does not ascribe their qualities to the physician but to himself. This peril is just as great. If he projects, he vacillates between an extravagant and morbid deification, and a spiteful contempt of his physician. In the case of introjection, he falls into a ludicrous self-deification or moral self-laceration. The mistake that he makes in both cases consists in attributing the contents of the absolute unconscious to himself personally. Thus he makes himself into both God and devil. This is the psychological reason why human beings have always needed demons, and could not live without gods. There is the exception, of course, of a few specially clever specimens of the _homo occidentalis_ of yesterday and the day before--supermen whose God is dead, wherefore they themselves become gods. There is also the example of Nietzsche, who confessedly required chloral in order to be able to exist. These supermen even become rationalistic petty gods, with thick skulls and cold hearts. The concept of God is simply a necessary psychological function of an irrational nature that has altogether no connection with the question of God's existence. This latter question is one of the most fatuous that can be put. It is indeed sufficiently evident that man cannot conceive a God, much less realise that he actually exists, so little is he able to imagine a process that is not causally conditioned. Theoretically, of course, no accidentality can exist, that is certain, once and for all. On the other hand, in practical life, we are continually stumbling upon accidental happenings. It is similar with the existence of God; it is once and for all an absurd problem. But the _consensus gentium_ has spoken of gods for æons past, and will be speaking of them in æons to come. Beautiful and perfect as man may think his reason, he may nevertheless assure himself that it is only one of the possible mental functions, coinciding merely with the corresponding side of the phenomena of the universe. All around is the irrational, that which is not congruous with reason. And this irrationalism is likewise a psychological function, namely the absolute unconscious; whilst the function of consciousness is essentially rational. Consciousness must have rational relations, first of all in order to discover some order in the chaos of disordered individual phenomena in the universe; and secondly, in order to labour at whatever lies within the area of human possibility. We are laudably and usefully endeavouring to exterminate so far as is practicable the chaos of what is irrational, both in and around us. Apparently we are making considerable progress with this process. A mental patient once said to me, "Last night, doctor, I disinfected the whole heavens with sublimate, and yet did not discover any God." Something of the kind has happened to us. Heraclitus, the ancient, that really very wise man, discovered the most wonderful of all psychological laws, namely, the _regulating function of antithesis_. He termed this "enantiodromia" (clashing together), by which he meant that at some time everything meets with its opposite. (Here I beg to remind the reader of the case of the American business man, which shows the enantiodromia most distinctly.) The rational attitude of civilisation necessarily terminates in its antithesis, namely in the irrational devastation of civilisation. Man may not _identify_ himself with reason, for he is not wholly a rational being, and never can or ever will become one. That is a fact of which every pedant of civilisation should take note. What is irrational cannot and may not be stamped out. The gods cannot and may not die. Woe betide those men who have disinfected heaven with rationalism; God-Almightiness has entered into them, because they would not admit God as an absolute function. They are identified with their unconscious, and are therefore its sport. (For where God is nearest, there the danger is greatest.) Is the present war supposed to be a war of economics? That is a neutral American "business-like" standpoint, that does not take the blood, tears, unprecedented deeds of infamy and great distress into account, and which completely ignores the fact that this war is really an _epidemic of madness_. The several parties project their unconscious upon each other, hence the mad confusion of ideas in every head. This is the enantiodromia that occurs in the individual life of man, as well as in that of peoples. The legend of the Tower of Babel turns out to be a tenable truth.
Only he escapes from the cruel law of enantiodromia who knows how to separate himself from the unconscious--not by repressing it, for then it seizes him from behind--_but by presenting it visibly to himself as something that is totally different from him_.
This gives the solution of the Scylla and Charybdis problem which I described above. The patient must learn to differentiate in his thoughts between what is the ego and what is the non-ego. The latter is the collective psyche or absolute unconscious. By this means he will acquire the material with which henceforward, for a long time, he will have to come to terms. Thereby the energy, that before was invested in unsuitable pathological forms, will have found its appropriate sphere. In order to differentiate the psychological ego from the psychological non-ego, man must necessarily stand _upon firm feet_ in his ego-function; that is, _he must fulfil his duty towards life completely, so that he may in every respect be a vitally living member of human society_. Anything that he neglects in this respect descends into the unconscious and reinforces its position, so that he is in danger of being swallowed up by it, if his ego-function is not established. Severe penalties are attached to that. As indicated by old Synesius, the "spiritualised soul (pneumatike psyché) becomes god and demon, a state in which it suffers the divine penalties," that is, it suffers being torn asunder by the Zagreus, an experience which Nietzsche also underwent at the beginning of his insanity, where, in "Ecce Homo," the God whom he was despairingly resisting in front assailed him from behind. Enantiodromia is the being torn asunder into the pairs of opposites, which opposites are only proper to "the god," and therefore also to the deified man, who owes likeness to God to his having prevailed over his gods.
