I'm reading a book right now by Thomas Moore, and he's a great writer in the field of Archetypal Psychology. He states that whenever we don't like something, either in someone else or ourselves, there is a tendency to just reject it and walk away 'clean'. But Faces of God are tricky. What is rejected often accumulates as shadow material, that can then 'act' in strange and unconscious ways, creating drastic changes in our lives.
There are always a number of forces at work within us, and rejection of one Face of God can have unintended consequences. To illustrate his point, he turns to a Greek myth, the story of Hippolytus and his devotion to Artemis. The Greeks were always warning about not devoting oneself to only one Goddess because the others will get pissed off. This is their way of warning against black and white thinking or purity spirals. And I think this is the main theme of Balogh's first Ravenwood story - Devlin's pure intent and righteous anger, which is technically correct, but highly destructive, and his Mother's attempts to deal with the consequences of that, and the complex lines between right and wrong.
I see there's some discussion about the Lady in Remember When. there are various ways of interpreting any text. Archetypal psychology is not a common form. In this style of reading, any story is not taken only literally, but also an interplay of archetypes, or the Faces of God or looking at the 'theological reality; spoken about by Laura in The Wave.
For instance, we might see Devlin and his family, who are characters in an external yet fictional world, but also standing in for the relationship between the archetypal Mother, Father, and Child. They aren't just different persons existing externally, but also as internal aspects in our own psyche - the Mother, Child, and Father images within us that inform, or form, our own personal myth, story or worldview. The way we respond to them says a lot about what's going on inside us. They can also be seen as images of one person (the Child) in relationship with culture (the Father) and nature (the Mother).
This derails the common black-and-white thinking common to left-brain domination, which asks the question - 'Well, is she good or bad?' IMO this type of thinking is the target of Balogh's novel, and the ability to reserve quick judgments, hold more than one perspective of someone at a time, and understand the point of view of the Other - or to not do so - is a major lesson for all the characters involved. In essence, it's a meditation on the Covey principle of 'seek first to understand, then be understood'. It scrambles the zero-sum question of 'who is right and who is wrong'.
The implications of this way of reading have been pretty profound for me. Like let's say I don't like the Lady in Remember When because of what she did. If the thinking stops there, at literal interpretation, then some significant insights into the nature of the deep Soul are missed.
For instance, we could see each member of the Ware family being one archetypal aspect of the story of the same mind. We can see characters as 'consciousness energy-directors' in the unfolding story. As every story is basically a story of individuation, that implies the Necessity of conflict to develop one's character, and as such, at a higher level there seems to be a necessity of people making 'bad' decisions in order to provide the painful crucible in which choices are made. Even though the suffering is horrible from a 3D perspective. According to Plato in The Myth of Er, this suffering is Necessity, and it is chosen before we incarnate here.
Archetypal psychology makes sense, then, as a form of tautological thinking. Once we've finished the book, or reached the telos, we can see the Necessity of the actions of all involved - good and bad, Yin and Yang. This is much different than the Hippolytic purity perspective that simply reacts when everyone just does NOT seem to do the right thing. If everyone did the right thing, that's not an interesting story, in large part because it doesn't accurately reflect the complexity of real life.
The C's have said to read fairy tales for clues for male-female relationships. According Marie Louise Von Franz, who pioneered the Western fairy tale renaissance, fairy tales are storehouses of the archetypes, or Faces of God. She writes that in the current blip of time in our culture, there is no adequate image of the Feminine. My understanding is that therefore boys and men have a hard time figuring out how to relate to their Mothers, their own feminine side, their intimate partners, women in general, and also all things feminine.
This is the archetypal context in which Devlin lives - a Protestant culture with a giant hole where the Divine Mother should be. So it's no wonder Mother issues are central in the story - it's generally understood in mythology and fairy tales that that which is ignored or rejected will return with a vengeance. I think this describes the Lady of Ravenswood perfectly. She stands in for, or embodies, the archetype of the rejected Goddess.
I've been learning that fairy tales provide roadmaps of a soul's initiation, or in psychological terms, the path to individuation - becoming one's own person, finding out who you truly are, and discovering your destiny.
The fairy tale material suggests that the individuation roadmap for men needs to meet certain requirements. He needs to bond with the Mother, and then separate from her. He also needs to bond with the Father, and also separate from him. For Devlin, these both occur in a catastrophic way. He also needs to bond with the mentor - in Devlin's case, the military. After this, he begins an apprenticeship with his own unique self - trying to learn to love in a devastated world. The climax of individuation is ironically a move out of mythic isolation and towards relationship, union and reunion, in returning to his family, and eventually marriage. This is not just 3D marriage, but also a reflection of the heiros gamos, the holy marriage of masculine and feminine. There is a reunion with the abandoned Goddess (represented by both his Mother and Gwyneth).
From a 3D psychological perspective, then, Devlin's mother and father are definitely not 'good'. But from a deeper Soul perspective, whether it's called archetypal or teleological, they are. Their 'badness' can be understood as a form of Necessity because their behaviour creates the necessary challenge and tension for him to drop his own Hippolytic purity complex, find some Aphrodite in his life, and make him a real man.
There are always a number of forces at work within us, and rejection of one Face of God can have unintended consequences. To illustrate his point, he turns to a Greek myth, the story of Hippolytus and his devotion to Artemis. The Greeks were always warning about not devoting oneself to only one Goddess because the others will get pissed off. This is their way of warning against black and white thinking or purity spirals. And I think this is the main theme of Balogh's first Ravenwood story - Devlin's pure intent and righteous anger, which is technically correct, but highly destructive, and his Mother's attempts to deal with the consequences of that, and the complex lines between right and wrong.
Euripides’ Hippolytus, for instance, is based on the myth of a young man who is exclusively devoted to the pure goddess, Artemis. Aphrodite is bitterly upset about his single-mindedness and his disdain for the part of life she tends, chiefly love and sex. Enraged and jealous, Aphrodite causes Hippolytus’ stepmother, Phaedra, to fall in love with him. Naturally, all kinds of complications and mayhem ensue: in the end, Hippolytus is trampled to death by his horses, panicked by a giant, bull-shaped wave created in the sea by Aphrodite. This form of demise has a certain poetic justice, since Hippolytus had been more devoted to his horses, animals that reflect his nervous energy and spirit, than to people, especially women.
In Greek tragedy the gods and goddesses address us directly. At the opening of Euripides’ play about Hippolytus, Aphrodite confesses, “I stir up trouble for any who ignore me, or belittle me, and who do it out of stubborn pride.” Here we find a Freudian observation from the fifth century B.C.—repress sexuality and you are in for trouble. We learn from the goddess’s mouth that the deepest point in our sexuality can be disturbed when we—our consciousness and intentionality—do not give it the response it requires. (Artemis, too, has her own feelings of jealousy. Near the end of the play she declares, with reference to Aphrodite, “I will choose some great favorite of hers and drop him with the bend of my bow.”)
Hippolytus presents a typical format for jealousy—a triangle, in this case two goddesses and a mortal. It hints that although ordinary life is the focus of jealous emotions, great mythic themes are also implicated. We tend to think of jealousy as an emotion we can control with understanding and will, and we try to do our best with it. But in spite of our efforts, the human soul proves to be an arena in which great struggles, far deeper than rational understanding can reach, play themselves out. Jealousy feels so overwhelming because it is more than a surface phenomenon. Whenever it appears, issues and values are being sorted out deep in the soul, and all we can do is try not to identify with the emotions and simply let the struggle work itself out.
Here was a man [Hippolytus] who routinely and consciously neglected a goddess whose task it is to foster an extremely important dimension of human life—love, sex, beauty, and the body. It’s all right, the goddess declares, to be devoted to Artemistic purity and self-sufficiency, but desire for another is also valid and important. Aphrodite’s jealous anger and the young man’s undoing arise because he neglects her necessity. His monotheistic focus on one divine mystery—moral purity and gender exclusiveness—abuses another. Hippolytus’ offense is to deny the polytheistic requirements of the soul.
Thinking mythologically, we might imagine our own pain, paranoid suspicions, and jealous rages as the complaint of a god [or a Face of God] who is receiving insufficient attention. We may be like Hippolytus, sincerely and honestly devoted to principles that we consider absolute, while, unknown to us, other different, seemingly incompatible demands are also coming our way. Hippolytus’ haughty purity and vitriolic hatred of women can be seen as his refusal to open himself to a world other than that which he has come to love and admire. In the end he is destroyed by the very animals who represent his self-sufficient spirit. His high-minded monotheism kills him. He is too pure, too simple, too resistant to the tensions that exist from the complex demands that life places on the heart.
When jealousy stirs, often a complicated, subtle person is revealed to be also a purist and moralist. Jealousy is demanding surrender to a new claim on the soul, while in defense the individual has taken refuge in moralism. Still, we have to keep in mind that jealousy is an archetypal tension, a collision of two valid needs—in the case of Hippolytus, the need for purity and the need for intermingling, Artemis and Aphrodite. We don’t want to turn against Artemis in our efforts to rid ourselves of jealousy or outwit it. The idea is more to create enough space and summon enough holding power to let these two divinities work out some arrangement for coexistence. That is the point in polytheism, and one of the primary ways to go about caring for the soul.
The name Hippolytus means “horse-loosed.” A person caught in this myth is someone whose horses, animals of spirit, are not contained. They have leapt the fences of the corral. They are beautiful but dangerous. You sometimes see this Hippolytus horse-spirit in people, not always literally young, who are fervently devoted to a cult or cause. Their motives and the objects of their devotion are noble and spotless, and their commitment maybe inspiring. But their very single-mindedness may reveal something darker—a blindness to other values and sometimes even a sadistic element, a too readily justified show of muscle.
But jealousy, like all emotions tinted with shadow, can be a blessing in disguise, a poison that heals. Euripides’ play can be seen as a story about curing Artemistic pride. Hippolytus, rigid and closed, is torn apart; that is, his spiritual neurosis is healed by becoming unraveled. The end appears tragic, but tragedy, even in everyday life, can be a form of valuable restructuring. It is painful and in some ways destructive, but it also puts things in a new order. The only way out of jealousy is through it. We may have to let jealousy have its way with us and do its job of reorienting fundamental values. Its pain comes, at least in part, from opening up to unexplored territory and letting go of old familiar truths in the face of unknown and threatening new possibilities.
I see there's some discussion about the Lady in Remember When. there are various ways of interpreting any text. Archetypal psychology is not a common form. In this style of reading, any story is not taken only literally, but also an interplay of archetypes, or the Faces of God or looking at the 'theological reality; spoken about by Laura in The Wave.
For instance, we might see Devlin and his family, who are characters in an external yet fictional world, but also standing in for the relationship between the archetypal Mother, Father, and Child. They aren't just different persons existing externally, but also as internal aspects in our own psyche - the Mother, Child, and Father images within us that inform, or form, our own personal myth, story or worldview. The way we respond to them says a lot about what's going on inside us. They can also be seen as images of one person (the Child) in relationship with culture (the Father) and nature (the Mother).
This derails the common black-and-white thinking common to left-brain domination, which asks the question - 'Well, is she good or bad?' IMO this type of thinking is the target of Balogh's novel, and the ability to reserve quick judgments, hold more than one perspective of someone at a time, and understand the point of view of the Other - or to not do so - is a major lesson for all the characters involved. In essence, it's a meditation on the Covey principle of 'seek first to understand, then be understood'. It scrambles the zero-sum question of 'who is right and who is wrong'.
The implications of this way of reading have been pretty profound for me. Like let's say I don't like the Lady in Remember When because of what she did. If the thinking stops there, at literal interpretation, then some significant insights into the nature of the deep Soul are missed.
For instance, we could see each member of the Ware family being one archetypal aspect of the story of the same mind. We can see characters as 'consciousness energy-directors' in the unfolding story. As every story is basically a story of individuation, that implies the Necessity of conflict to develop one's character, and as such, at a higher level there seems to be a necessity of people making 'bad' decisions in order to provide the painful crucible in which choices are made. Even though the suffering is horrible from a 3D perspective. According to Plato in The Myth of Er, this suffering is Necessity, and it is chosen before we incarnate here.
Archetypal psychology makes sense, then, as a form of tautological thinking. Once we've finished the book, or reached the telos, we can see the Necessity of the actions of all involved - good and bad, Yin and Yang. This is much different than the Hippolytic purity perspective that simply reacts when everyone just does NOT seem to do the right thing. If everyone did the right thing, that's not an interesting story, in large part because it doesn't accurately reflect the complexity of real life.
The C's have said to read fairy tales for clues for male-female relationships. According Marie Louise Von Franz, who pioneered the Western fairy tale renaissance, fairy tales are storehouses of the archetypes, or Faces of God. She writes that in the current blip of time in our culture, there is no adequate image of the Feminine. My understanding is that therefore boys and men have a hard time figuring out how to relate to their Mothers, their own feminine side, their intimate partners, women in general, and also all things feminine.
Women in the Western world nowadays seem to seek images which could define their identity. This search is motivated by a kind of disorientation and a deep uncertainty in modern women. In the West, this uncertainty is due to the fact, as Jung has pointed out, that women have no metaphysical representant in the Christian God-image.
Protestantism must accept the blame of being a pure men’s religion. Catholicism has at least the Virgin Mary as an archetypal representant of femininity, but this feminine archetypal image is incomplete because it encompasses only the sublime and light aspects of the divine feminine principle and therefore does not express the whole feminine principle.
This is the archetypal context in which Devlin lives - a Protestant culture with a giant hole where the Divine Mother should be. So it's no wonder Mother issues are central in the story - it's generally understood in mythology and fairy tales that that which is ignored or rejected will return with a vengeance. I think this describes the Lady of Ravenswood perfectly. She stands in for, or embodies, the archetype of the rejected Goddess.
I've been learning that fairy tales provide roadmaps of a soul's initiation, or in psychological terms, the path to individuation - becoming one's own person, finding out who you truly are, and discovering your destiny.
The fairy tale material suggests that the individuation roadmap for men needs to meet certain requirements. He needs to bond with the Mother, and then separate from her. He also needs to bond with the Father, and also separate from him. For Devlin, these both occur in a catastrophic way. He also needs to bond with the mentor - in Devlin's case, the military. After this, he begins an apprenticeship with his own unique self - trying to learn to love in a devastated world. The climax of individuation is ironically a move out of mythic isolation and towards relationship, union and reunion, in returning to his family, and eventually marriage. This is not just 3D marriage, but also a reflection of the heiros gamos, the holy marriage of masculine and feminine. There is a reunion with the abandoned Goddess (represented by both his Mother and Gwyneth).
From a 3D psychological perspective, then, Devlin's mother and father are definitely not 'good'. But from a deeper Soul perspective, whether it's called archetypal or teleological, they are. Their 'badness' can be understood as a form of Necessity because their behaviour creates the necessary challenge and tension for him to drop his own Hippolytic purity complex, find some Aphrodite in his life, and make him a real man.