EPISODE TRANSCRIPTS

11: Carl Jung • The Red Book (Part I)

Welcome to Creative Codex. I am your host, MJDorian. On this episode, we are going to dive into one of the strangest and most enigmatic books of all time: The Red Book by Carl Jung.

This is a book that captures the imagination of all who read it. Jung was a world renowned psychologist and is considered one of the founders of analytical psychology. But even if you have never heard of Jung, if you open The Red Book to a random page and point your finger, you are guaranteed to discover a passage at your fingertip that will mystify, amuse, or inspire you.

This is the strange aura of this book, and it is made all the more mysterious the more you learn about it. For instance, The Red Book was kept as a closely guarded secret for over a hundred years… Jung published countless books and essays on the subject of analytical psychology in his lifetime, but never published The Red Book, and when Jung died in 1961, it was locked up in his family vault.

Leading many in the field to theorize that the contents of the book must be so wild that they would prove Carl Jung, the world renowned founder of analytical psychology was actually insane. So The Red Book was only allowed to be viewed by the most esteemed psychologists under rare permission from his estate to open its infamous pages. And it stayed this way…for decades.

Jung would occasionally mention the book during his life and lectures, saying “To the superficial observer, it will appear like madness.”

It remained in the darkness of that family bank vault until only very recently, when in 2009, it was finally published for public appreciation, and for us to dive into today.

Why was it kept hidden for so long?

And is it a work of visionary creativity or profound personal reflection? Or both?

Let’s find out…

[music]

Part One: The River of Blood

Carl Gustav Jung was a Swiss psychiatrist during the early 1900’s who is credited, along with Freud, as being one of the founders of analytical psychology. His insights into the human mind shaped our understanding of psychology into what it is today.

For example, Jung coined the terms introvert and extrovert, he discovered and elaborated on the archetypes of the unconscious mind, he created the foundation for those personality types, you know, those tests we all like to take online that label you an INFJ or ESFP and give you a superhero name like The Counselor or The Visionary and so on, he theorized the human mind creates a shadow in itself, he also the unconscious mind has an even deeper layer called the collective unconscious which we all share, and countless other insights he shared with the world.

(His theories on the mind continue to be so remarkable that he is sometimes accused of starting a new religion.)

In many ways, his theories on the mind are so unique that they continue to stand on a parallel track to modern clinical psychology. For example, if you are looking for a therapist, you can just look up ‘therapist’, or you can look up ‘Jungian analyst’, and you will find a therapist who specializes in the Jungian approach to understanding psychology. On that note, there is the C.G. Jung Institute here in NYC, on their website they say: “The C.G. Jung Institute of New York offers a post-graduate clinical training program that prepares its students for a professional practice as a Jungian psychoanalyst and membership within a worldwide community of Jungian analysts.”

So why are we talking about a psychiatrist in a podcast about creativity?

Well, the way to think about Carl Jung is this: he is the Nikola Tesla of psychology, through his influence the entire field was reimagined. He was a visionary with an unparalleled intellect, very reminiscent of someone like Leonardo da Vinci, with his insatiable curiosity. One of these ‘once in a generation’ types.

If there was an award in psychology for the most startlingly creative approach to understanding the human mind… it would be awarded to Carl Gustav Jung.

Now, to explore the full scope of Jung’s discoveries would take an entire college semester. And those classes exist. So this will by no means be a full investigation of his thoughts, for that I encourage your own explorations. In this episode we will focus on the infamous Red Book.

So what is it?

If you were to enter Jung’s house near Zurich, and go to his study, as you approached his large wooden desk you would find a massive red leather book. 12 inches by 15 inches. Inscribed in gold on the binding is a latin title: Liber Novus. As you flip open the heavy red leather cover, you notice the pages are thick like ancient parchment, the writing is done by hand in a careful calligraphy style, the languages are a mixture of German, Latin, and Greek, all throughout the book there are beautiful and intricate paintings, some of them take up the full parchment page, and others are seamlessly integrated within the text… looking at this book you would have to assume this is an ancient religious manuscript, maybe a work of medieval literature from a thousand years ago. This is no ordinary book.

(Side note: Do yourself a favor and visit archive.org and search Carl Jung The Red Book. They have a wonderful, high resolution scanned copy of it. You must flip through these pages and see it for yourself. That’s archive.org Now back to the show.)

So what is The Red Book trying to transmit? With it’s handwritten calligraphy and carefully crafted paintings? A fable? A religious epic?

The Red Book was a personal project that Jung was working on, in which he attempted to record, in vivid detail, the visionary experiences he was having during the period between December 1913 and January 1914. These experiences weren’t some pleasant daydreams, they were symptoms of a mental breakdown that Jung was suffering at this point in his life. And the irony was not lost on him, to be a psychiatrist, with his own regular patients, and to be suffering from a near psychotic episode himself. In the book “Memories, Dreams, Reflections” Jung shares with us:

“In order to grasp the fantasies which were stirring in me “underground,” I knew that I had to let myself plummet down into them, as it were. I felt not only violent resistance to this, but a distinct fear. For I was afraid of losing command of myself and becoming a prey to the fantasies – and as a psychiatrist I realized only too well what that meant. After prolonged hesitation, however, I saw that there was no other way out. I had to take the chance, had to try to gain power over them; for I realized that if I did not do so, I ran the risk of their gaining power over me.

A cogent motive for my making the attempt was the conviction that I could not expect of my patients something I did not dare to do myself. The excuse that a helper stood at their side would not pass muster, for I was well aware that the so-called helper – that is, myself – could not help them unless he knew their fantasy material from his own direct experience, and that at present all he possessed were a few theoretical prejudices of dubious value.”

This mental break that Jung has in December 1913 seems to have its origins in the year leading up to it. It is around this time that Jung has a dramatic falling out with his mentor, Sigmund Freud. In the field of psychology at the time, Freud was considered untouchable and his theories beyond critique. And it is true, that Freud can largely be credited for shining a light into the unconscious of the human brain and revealing new worlds of study. For a time, in that field of psychology, Jung was being considered the heir apparent to Freud, the successor who would carry on Freud’s theories. But after years of friendship and respect, Jung could not stay silent any longer.

He disagreed with Freud on pivotal positions, he thought Freud was too fixated on sexuality as the cause of all neurosis, he thought Freud too frequently assumed all answers to personal issues stemmed from childhood, Jung also suspected that Freud’s concept of the unconscious did not go deep enough, out did not reach the depths of the unconscious, only scratched the surface of what Jung called the personal unconscious. And one final element that Jung could not tolerate about Freud… He was utterly cynical about human nature. Freud had no patience for exploring spiritual matters, or matters of the meaning of life and the human inclination toward symbolism and myth.

Jung writes:

“When I was working on my book about the libido and approaching the end of the chapter “The Sacrifice,” I knew in advance that its publication would cost me my friendship with Freud. For I planned to set down in it my own conception of incest, the decisive transformation of the concept of libido, and various other ideas in which I differed from Freud. To me, incest signified a personal complication only in the rarest cases. Usually incest has a highly religious aspect, for which reason the incest theme plays a decisive part in almost all cosmogonies and in numerous myths. But Freud clung to the literal interpretation of it and could not grasp the spiritual significance of incest as a symbol. I knew that he would never be able to accept any of my ideas on this subject.

I spoke with my wife about this, and told her of my fears. She attempted to reassure me, for she thought that Freud would magnanimously raise no objections, although he might not accept my views. I myself was convinced that he could not do so. For two months I was unable to touch my pen, so tormented was I by the conflict. Should I keep my thoughts to myself, or should I risk the loss of so important a friendship? At last I resolved to go ahead with the writing – and it did indeed cost me Freud’s friendship.”

After the very public break with Freud, Jung says all his friends and acquaintances dropped away. His book was declared to be rubbish, and he was labeled a mystic, not a psychologist. Suddenly, the support structure of an entire community seemed to ostracize him. No longer a golden child, he was now forced to venture out into his own conception of psychology, while continuing his psychiatric practice. Jung goes on “But I had foreseen my isolation and harbored no illusion about the reactions of my so-called friends. That was a point I had thoroughly considered beforehand. I had known that everything was at stake, and that I had to take a stand for my convictions.”

And so it begins to make sense, through this experience Jung entered into a liminal state. A place between worlds. He wasn’t the person he had studied and trained to be anymore, he lost his colleagues and the social support he had relied on for years, but he wasn’t yet the world renowned psychologist that he would become years later. He was in a state of transition, a point of tremendous potential but also tremendous upheaval. And as we learn through studying the lives of many of history’s great achievers, this kind of ‘dark night of the soul’ brings with it the potential for a phoenix to rise from the ashes.

And this is when the visions started…

In Memories, Dreams, Reflections, Jung says:

“Toward the autumn of 1913 the pressure which I had felt in me seemed to be moving outward, as though there were something in the air. The atmosphere actually seemed to me darker than it had been. It was as though the sense of oppression no longer sprang exclusively from a psychic situation, but from concrete reality. This feeling grew more and more intense.
In October, while I was alone on a journey, I was suddenly seized by an overpowering vision: I saw a monstrous flood covering all the northern and low-lying lands between the North Sea and the Alps. When it came up to Switzerland I saw that the mountains grew higher and higher to protect our country. I realized that a frightful catastrophe was in progress. I saw the mighty yellow waves, the floating rubble of civilization, and the drowned bodies of uncounted thousands. Then the whole sea turned to blood. This vision lasted about one hour. I was perplexed and nauseated, and ashamed of my weakness.

Two weeks passed; then the vision recurred, under the same conditions, even more vividly than before, and the blood was more emphasized. An inner voice spoke. “Look at it well; it is wholly real and it will be so. You cannot doubt it.” That winter someone asked me what I thought were the political prospects of the world in the near future. I replied that I had no thoughts on the matter, but that I saw rivers of blood.

I asked myself whether these visions pointed to a revolution, but could not really imagine anything of the sort. And so I drew the conclusion that they had to do with me, and decided that I was menaced by a psychosis. The idea of war did not occur to me at all.

Soon afterward, in the spring and early summer of 1914, I had a thrice-repeated dream that in the middle of summer an Arctic cold wave descended and froze the land to ice. I saw, for example, the whole of Lorraine and its canals frozen and the entire region totally deserted by human beings. All living green things were killed by frost. This dream came in April and May, and for the last time in June, 1914.

In the third dream, frightful cold had again descended from out of the cosmos. This dream, however, had an unexpected end. There stood a leaf-bearing tree, but without fruit (my tree of life, I thought), whose leaves had been transformed by the effects of the frost into sweet grapes full of healing juices. I plucked the grapes and gave them to a large, waiting crowd…
On August 1 the world war broke out. Now my task was clear: I had to try to understand what had happened and to what extent my own experience coincided with that of mankind in general. Therefore my first obligation was to probe the depths of my own psyche.”

Jung began a long process of writing down all of these visions, daydreams, and vivid dreams. He felt like his unconscious was trying to communicate with him, trying to tell him something. His river of blood vision was in October of 1913, and reoccured in the weeks following, his killing frost dreams were in April, May and June of 1914. World War One began in July of 1914. Did his unconscious foresee the imminent destruction and loss of countless lives that was coming? Or were the visions a symbolic representation of the inner turmoil that Jung was feeling at this time? He mentions an inner voice telling him “Look at it well; it is wholly real and it will be so. You cannot doubt it.” What does one make of that?

It is with this frame of mind that Jung decides he needs to find out for himself. He needs to find out what is happening in his own mind at this pivotal stage in his life. And this is where The Red Book begins.

Part Two: The Descent Begins

Jung devises an ingenious and simple method for communicating with his unconscious. It first involves entering a meditative state, it is known that Jung practiced Yoga and was aware of how to alter his body through breathing techniques. He had a scholar’s appetite for cultures and myths of the world. On this point in Memories, Dreams, Reflections Jung says “I was frequently so wrought up that I had to do certain yoga exercises in order to hold my emotions in check. But since it was my purpose to know what was going on within myself, I would do these exercises only until I had calmed myself enough to resume my work with the unconscious. As soon as I had the feeling that I was myself again, I abandoned this restraint upon the emotions and allowed the images and inner voices to speak afresh.”

Once Jung had placed himself in a meditative state, perhaps a place bordering the hypnagogic state, he would engage a fantasy of digging a hole, which would go deeper and deeper and even deeper. In the book, Introduction to Jungian Psychology, he says:

“For the sake then of trying to achieve the maximum of honesty with myself, I wrote everything down very carefully, following the old Greek mandate: “Give away all thou possesses, then thou shalt receive.” The writing of this material took me into November 1913, and then I came to an end of it. Not knowing what would come next, I thought perhaps more introspection was needed. When we introspect we look within and see if there is anything to be observed, and if there is nothing we may either give up the introspective process or find a way of “boring through” to the material that escapes the first survey. I devised such a boring method by fantasizing that I was digging a hole, and by accepting this fantasy as perfectly real.

This is naturally somewhat difficult to do – to believe so thoroughly in a fantasy that it leads you into further fantasy, just as if you were digging a real hole and passing from one discovery to another. But when I began on that hole I worked and worked so hard that I knew something had to come of it – that fantasy had to produce, and lure out, other fantasies.

Of course, in using a hole I was using an archetype of considerable power in stimulating the unconscious, for the mystery attaching to caves comes down from immemorial times; one thinks at once of the Mithraic cult, of the catacombs, etc. So the more I worked on this fantasy hole, the more I seemed to descend. Finally I felt I had come to a place where I could go no further down. I said to myself that, that being the case, I would then go horizontally, and then it seemed as if I were in a corridor, and as though I were wading in black slime.”

In The Red Book there is an entry for December 12, 1913 which describes one of these visionary meditation sessions with startling results. The entry is titled ‘Descent Into Hell in the Future’, Jung writes:

“In the following night, the air was filled with many voices. A loud voice called, “I am falling.” Others cried out confused and excited during this: “Where to? What do you want?” Should I entrust myself to this confusion? I shuddered. It is a dreadful deep. Do you want me to leave myself to chance, to the madness of my own darkness? Whither? Whither? You fall, and I want to fall with you, whoever you are.
The spirit of the depths opened my eyes and I caught a glimpse of the inner things, the world of my soul, the many-formed and changing.

I see a gray rock face along which I sink into great depths. A dwarf clad entirely in leather stood before it, minding the entrance. I stand in black dirt up to my ankles in a dark cave. Shadows sweep over me. I am seized by fear, but I know I must go in. I crawl through a narrow crack in the rock and reach an inner cave whose bottom is covered with black water. But beyond this I catch a glimpse of a luminous red stone which I must reach. It is a six sided crystal which gives of a cold, reddish light. I wade through the muddy water.

The cave is full of the frightful noise of shrieking voices. I take the stone, it covers a dark opening in the rock. I hold the stone in my hand, peering around inquiringly. I do not want to listen to the voices, they keep me away. This dark hole – I want to know where it leads and what it says? An oracle? Is it the place of Pythia? Here something wants to be uttered. I place my ear to the opening. I hear the flow of underground waters. I see the bloody head of a man on the dark stream. Someone wounded, someone slain floats there. I take in this image for a long time, shuddering, I see a large black scarab floating past on the dark stream.

In the deepest reach of the stream shines a red sun, radiating through the dark water. There I see – and a terror seizes me – small serpents on the dark rock walls, striving toward the depths, where the sun shines. A thousand serpents crowd around, veiling the sun. Deep night falls. A red stream of blood, thick red blood springs up, surging for a long time, then ebbing. I am seized by fear. What did I see?”

It seems that this vision left such a deep and strong impression on Jung’s mind that it left him in a state of awe. He reaches a point of reverence in the passage of writing that follows. Following the recounting of the vision he continues:

“Heal the wound that doubt inflicts on me, my soul. That too is to be overcome, so that I can recognize your supreme meaning. How far away everything is, and how I have turned back! My spirit is a spirit of torment, it tears asunder my contemplation, it would dismantle everything and rip it apart. I am still a victim of my thinking. When can I order my thinking to be quiet, so that my thoughts, those unruly hounds, will crawl to my feet? How can I ever hope to hear your voice louder, to see your face clearer, when all my thoughts howl?

I am stunned, but I want to be stunned, since I have won to you, my soul, to trust you even if you lead me through madness. How shall I ever walk under your sun if I do not drink the bitter draught of slumber to the lees? Help me so that I do not choke on my own knowledge. The fullness of my knowledge threatens to fall in on me. My knowledge has a thousand voices, an army roaring like lions; the air trembles when they speak, and I am their defenseless sacrifice. Keep it far from me, science that clever knower, that bad prison master who binds the soul and imprisons it in a lightless cell.

But above all protect me from the serpent of judgement, which only appears to be a healing serpent, yet in the depths is infernal poison and agonizing death. I want to go down cleansed into your depths with white garments and not rush in like some thief, seizing whatever I can and fleeing breathlessly. Let me persist in divine astonishment, so that I am ready to behold your wonders. Let me lay my head on a stone before your door, so that I am prepared to receive your light.”

This is no longer the Jung that the world knew from his analytical psychology work. This writing resembles the words of a mad saint or a visionary monk. This reminds me of the mystical poem Dark Night of the Soul from the 1500’s by St. John of the Cross. It honestly sounds like a love letter that Jung is writing to his soul, taking a position of reverence and humility.

This is what makes The Red Book so strange and unique, we are watching the inner workings of a mind struggling through an existential crisis. And through that process, we see that mind reaching spiritual insights and self knowledge. A kind of divine madness. We are witnessing an alchemical process taking place.

Jung mentions “When the desert begins to bloom, it brings forth strange plants. You will consider yourself mad, and in a certain sense you will in fact be mad.”

The footnote at the bottom of the page sheds further light on this phenomenon. It is footnote number 89, and it states “Socrates distinguished four types of divine madness: 1) inspired divination, such as by the prophetess at Delphi; 2) instances in which individuals, when ancient sins have given rise to troubles, have prophesied and incited to prayer and worship; 3) possession by the Muses, since the technically skilled untouched by the madness of the Muses will never be a good poet; and 4) the lover.”

In the coming months, Jung struggled to understand this vision of the red crystal and the scarab, and he would retell it in his lectures for many years to come. In The Red Book he gives his analysis of the symbols, the following passage was written in Autumn of 1914, almost a year after he first had this vision, and after World War 1 had erupted. [p.150-151]

“Blood shone at me from the red light of the crystal, and when I picked it up to discover its mystery, there lay the horror uncovered before me: in the depths of what is to come lay murder. The blond hero lay slain. The black beetle is the death that is necessary for renewal; and so thereafter, a new sun glowed, the sun of the depths, full of riddles, a sun of the night. And as the rising sun of spring quickens the dead earth, so the sun of the depths quickened the dead, and thus began the terrible struggle between light and darkness. Out of that burst the powerful and ever unvanquished source of blood. This was what was to come, which you now experience in your life, and it is even more than that. (I had this vision on the night of 12th December, 1913.)

I would not have been able to see what was to come if I could not have seen it in myself.
Therefore I take part in that murder; the sun of the depths also shines in me after the murder has been accomplished; the thousand serpents that want to devour the sun are also in me. I myself am a murderer and murdered; sacrificer and sacrificed. The upwelling blood streams out of me.

You all have share in the murder. In you the reborn one will come to be, and the sun of the depths will rise, and a thousand serpents will develop from your dead matter and fall on the sun to choke it. Your blood will stream forth. The people demonstrate this at the present time in unforgettable acts, that will be written with blood in unforgettable books for eternal memory.”

Jung unmistakably talks like a mystic in these passages… that ‘dreaded’ term that the colleagues of Freud tried to denigrate him with. The entire Red Book flows like this, there are passages that retell a vision he experienced, followed by prosaic rumination on the subject or a dialogue with his soul, pleading for answers. And all of this is written in an old calligraphy style with accompanying paintings. What does one make of this? It is certainly more than a journal, it has the spirit of a dramatic visionary work.

What can one even compare it to? There are no modern equivalents. This is perhaps why Jung chose to officially call The Red Book by the enigmatic title: Liber Novus. Which is latin for The New Book. It is a kind of new document, and yet the use of latin in the title and throughout its text is an acknowledgement that it is something rooted in ancient traditions. Latin is a dead language, there are no countries that speak and write in latin. There is a moment in The Red Book that Jung’s soul tells him he must bring the dead to life. Perhaps this is part of the fruition of that sentiment, we breath life into the old ways by making them new again. Could Jung’s deep descent into his own unconscious itself be a revival of an ancient tradition? Was he inspired to take this journey through his knowledge of similar practices in ancient cultures? I am pretty certain he that he was.

He never says it outright, but there is a telling phrase he mentions in passing during the red crystal vision.

“I take the stone, it covers a dark opening in the rock. I hold the stone in my hand, peering around inquiringly. I do not want to listen to the voices, they keep me away. This dark hole – I want to know where it leads and what it says? An oracle? Is it the place of Pythia?”

There was a fascinating tradition in ancient Greece, if you were seeking guidance of any kind you would visit an oracle. An oracle is a person who acts as a medium between the world of the Gods and the world of humans. These oracles would often practice rituals of purification and enter a trancelike meditative state, during which it was believed they communed with the Gods. The most esteemed oracle in all of Greece was the Oracle of Delphi, whose name was Pythia. This is who Jung is referring to in that passing comment. To better understand the nature of such a tradition, let’s travel back to ancient Greece, 2,400 years ago, to visit the Temple of Apollo at Delphi, and meet Pythia herself.

 
(Part Three: Visiting the Oracle)

Here we are, in Delphi, Greece, the year is 400 BC, and we are standing on Mount Parnassus, overlooking the lush surrounding landscape, hills and valleys covered with dark pine trees and olive tree groves. Wow, just a soul stirring view with the mountains and valleys around us, and what a perfect clear blue sky. [breathe in, and out]

The Temple of Apollo is just up this way. . . it will be a few minutes walk. You know, to the Greeks, Delphi is considered the center of the world. The story goes that at dawn on a certain day Zeus sent two eagles flying, one from the Eastern most part of the world, and one from the Western most part, and they met right over Delphi. Seeing what it looks like, you can imagine why the Greeks felt that way, there is just a special aura to the place. The symbol of Delphi is the navel, a large ornate egglike stone adorns the center of the Temple, representing the absolute center of the world.

If you look down there, at the foot of the mountain you can see crowds of people, they are trying to make their way up to the Temple, in the hopes that they can see Pythia today and seek her counsel. (It’s curious that they walk with their livestock, sheep, goats, cattle, they hope to offer these as worthy sacrifices to the Temple to procure favor and admittance to the oracle.) There is a strange rule, the oracle only sees visitors on one day of each month, the seventh day. And only for nine months out of every year. So you can imagine the anxiety of some of these people who traveled a few days, a hundred miles, just for the unlikely chance they will meet Pythia. Regardless of the demand, she accepts all who come to seek her counsel, from nobles, to peasants, and even emperors.

Here comes a procession now, a woman dressed in maiden’s robes and a laurel in her hair leads the way, she must be one of the priestesses of the Temple. [a soft bell chimes, which she is holding, and possibly she is humming a soft melody] Behind her are three nobles, each carrying a small gift and walking with a sacrificial offering, two sheep and a black ram. Let’s join behind them.

Pythia’s prophecies are known throughout Greece, and dignitaries from other countries even make the trip to seek her wise counsel.

In 403 BC, Lysander, the Spartan victor of the Peloponnesian War was warned by Pythia with these words: “Beware the dragon serpent, earthborn, in the craftiness coming behind thee.” Eight years later he was slain from behind by Neachorus, who had a serpent painted upon his shield.

We are nearing the Temple… [sound of a distant spring] there’s another priestess who is inspecting the animal offerings the three noblemen have brought. She points to the black ram, a guard takes the animal and the priestess motions for the nobleman to follow her. It seems the other two men were unworthy. She is leading him to the Catalian spring, where he must first bathe and purify himself before being able to seek counsel with the oracle.

And here are the two main entrances to the Temple… with their famous inscriptions chiseled in stone above the doorways: “Nothing in Excess” and “Know Thyself”.

That reminds me, according to Plato, when Pythia was asked who was the wisest person in Greece she responded “The wisest is Socrates, because he knows that he knows nothing.”

Let’s head on in. . . [heavy wooden door open, and hear light magical harp playing] . . .

[door closes and no more outside noise]

Whoa, it’s dark in here. . . [sound of a voice or voices softly singing] there’s someone playing the harp down the corridor. This part of the Temple is lit only by candles, every wall is painted with elaborate frescos or adorned with tapestries depicting scenes with the God Apollo. God of truth, music, poetry, the Sun, and prophecy. Down the corridor you can see the center of the Temple, which is lit by the natural light of the sun and sky, through a domelike opening above. [sniff sniff] There’s the heavy smell of myrrh in the air, we must be close to the entrance of Pythia’s chamber. This way.

You know, the tradition of the Oracle of Delphi is a strange one with very few parallels in our time. Pythia is the name given to the high priestess who performs the oracle work, but it is also the name of the position. It is similar to the Dali Lama. The person assumes the full responsibility of the position, and when they die, the next Pythia is found. This is what has kept this tradition alive for centuries.

The Pythia has tremendous influence, her messages have changed the course of history in countless ways. In many instances she serves the role of an advisor to emperors who seek to know what the Gods think of their plans.

In 359 BC, Philip the 2nd of Macedon consulted Pythia and was told: “With silver spears you may conquer the world.”

He proceeded to gain control of the silver mines in Thrace and the Illyrian kingdom, using them to bribe his way to early victories, playing Greek states against each other. Philip also had a notoriously unruly black colt horse, which no one could tame. The Oracle of Delphi told him that whoever could ride this horse would conquer the world. Despite valiant efforts, neither Philip nor his generals could tame the horse. Then his son, Alexander, succeeded when he realized the horse was actually afraid of his own shadow. Philip then gifted the horse, who was named Bucephalus to Alexander, who earned the title Alexander the Great when he conquered Asia.

When it is time to choose a new Pythia, a woman must volunteer who is worthy and exceptionally knowledgeable on matters of ritual, so most Pythia are former priestesses of the Temple here. But there have been cases of Pythia who were peasants or even noblewomen who had outstanding talents in communing with the Gods in this way. It is no overstatement to say that the woman serving as Pythia is the most powerful woman in Greece.

Let’s take these stairs to the lower chamber. Here, we will need these torches. The Temple was built around this entrance, which leads into this cavern, we will soon see why. [distant drones of low male voices, gravel and mud steps]

Do you now see why Jung asks ‘Is this the place of Pythia?’ during his red crystal vision? He may be referring to the physical cavern in which she has her visions, or through his prose he may be referring to the mental place she must be inhabiting where she receives these visions.

There she is, at the center of the cavern, her head is shrouded in shadow by a robe that wraps loosely around her body, creating a hood over her head. She is elevated two feet off the ground, sitting on a three legged golden seat. The chair is positioned over a deep chasm in the cavern floor. Smoke is perpetually rising from this hole, and wafting over Pythia’s hooded face. The Temple was built around this chasm, the location is uniquely situated above two tectonic plates. The vapors and smoke that naturally rise from the chasm are likely from deep in the earth. She is a woman of fifty, dressed symbolically as a virgin maiden. And she routinely chews on oleander leaves. Part of the obligation of being a Pythia includes renouncing all worldly ties and possessions, this includes separating from your husband and family, which explains the symbolic dress of a virgin.

It seems like she is in the middle of delivering her oracle message to a visitor. There are priests and priestesses that surround the space, forming a circle, some of them are softly chanting, and some are awaiting Pythia’s words which they will transcribe on a parchment.

Pythia speaks from this abnormal state, often in poetic verse. Some accounts describe her speaking incoherently, and the accompanying priests will decipher the message, other accounts describe her speaking eloquently in verse. The oracle messages she delivered were believed to come from underworld powers. Perhaps in her deeply contemplative state the messages arrive to her in the form of imagery and visions like Jung was experiencing? Could it be that the ‘place’ that Jung’s mind inhabits during the Red Book sessions is the same ‘place’ that Pythia’s mind inhabits? A state that places one in communication with a deep and imaginative center of the unconscious mind.

It becomes clear that humans have been exploring the depths of their unconscious in a multitude of ways throughout time. I think it’s safe to assume that these things are on Jung’s mind when he begins his ‘confrontation with the unconscious’. He may have even been using this opportunity to test the veracity of the claims of these methods. Contrary to what our first reaction when reading The Red Book may be, Jung isn’t doing something new and pioneering, he is reviving something ancient.

Bringing what is dead back to life.

Part Three: Elijah & Salome

Throughout The Red Book, Jung has meaningful encounters with mythic figures. In these visions he carries on conversations with them, oftentimes even arguing with them. It creates a sense of drama and tension, and when reading it one must assume that Jung is confronting deep seated parts of his own being. These are profoundly personal experiences we are witnessing.

This passage is dated December 21st, 1913.

“On the night when I considered the essence of the God, I became aware of a image: I lay in a dark depth. An old man stood before me. He looked like one of the old prophets. A black serpent lay at his feet. Some distance away I saw a house with columns. A beautiful maiden steps out of the door. She walks uncertainly and I see that she is blind. The old man waves to me and I follow him to the house at the foot of the sheer wall of rock. The serpent creeps behind us.

Darkness reigns inside the house. We are in a high hall with glittering walls. A bright stone the color of water lies in the background. As I look into its reflection, the images of Eve, the tree and the serpent appear to me. After this I catch sight of Odysseus and his journey on the high seas. Suddenly a door opens on the right, onto a garden full of bright sunshine. We step outside and the old man says to me, “Do you know where you are?”

I say “I am a stranger here and everything seems strange to me, anxious as in a dream. Who are you?”

The old man responds “I am Elijah and this is my daughter Salome.”

I respond “The daughter of Herod, the bloodthirsty woman?”

Elijah asks “Why do you judge so? You see that she is blind. She is my daughter, the daughter of the prophet.”

I say “What miracle has united you?”

Elijah answers “It is no miracle, it was so from the beginning. My wisdom and my daughter are one.”

I am shocked, I am incapable of grasping it.

Elijah continues “Consider this: her blindness and my sight have made us companions through eternity.”

I say “Forgive my astonishment, am I truly in the underworld?”

Salome interrupts “Do you love me?”

I respond “How can I love you? How do you come to this question? I see only one thing, you are Salome, a tiger, your hands are stained with the blood of the holy one. How should I love you?”

Salome answers “You will love me.”

I say “I? Love you? Who gives you the right to such thoughts?”

Salome proclaims “I love you.”

I say “Leave me bet I dread you, you beast.”

Salome continues “You do me wrong. Elijah is my father, and he knows the deepest mysteries. The walls of his house are made of precious stones. His wells hold healing water and his eyes see the things of the future. And what wouldn’t you give for a single look into the infinite unfolding of what is to come? Are these not worth a sin for you?”

I respond “Your temptation is devilish. I long to be back in the upper world. It is dreadful here. How oppressive and heavy is the air!”

Elijah asks “What do you want? The choice is yours.”

I say “But I do not belong to the dead. I live in the light of day. Why should I torment myself here with Salome? Do I not have enough of my own life to deal with?”

Elijah says “You heard what Salome said.”

I respond “I cannot believe that you, the prophet, can recognize her as a daughter and a companion. Is she not engendered from heinous seed? Was she not vain greed and criminal lust?”

Elijah answers “But she loved a holy man.”

I say “And shamefully shed his precious blood.”

Elijah continues “She loved the prophet who announced the new God to the world. She loved him, do you understand that? For she is my daughter.”

I respond “Do you think that because she is your daughter, she loved the prophet in John, the father?”

Elijah answers “By her love shall you know her.”

I ask “But how did she love him? Do you call that love?”

Elijah says “What else was it?”

I respond “I am horrified. Who wouldn’t be horrified if Salome loved him?”

Elijah responds “Are you cowardly? Consider this, I and my daughter have been one since eternity.”

I say “You pose dreadful riddles. How could it be that this unholy woman and you, the prophet of your God, could be one?”

Elijah asks “Why are you amazed? But you see it, we are together.”

I say “What my eyes see is exactly what I cannot grasp. You, Elijah, who are a prophet, the mouth of God, and she, a bloodthirsty horror. You are the symbol of the most extreme contradiction.”

Elijah states “We are real and not symbols.” …

I see how the black serpent writhes up the tree, and hides in the branches. Everything becomes gloomy and doubtful. Elijah rises, I follow and we go silently back through the hall. Doubt tears me apart. It is all so unreal and yet a part of my longing remains behind. Will I come again? Salome loves me, do I love her? I hear wild music, a tambourine, a sultry moonlit night, the bloody-staring head of a holy one – fear seizes me, I rush out. I am surrounded by the dark night. It is pitch black all around me. Who murdered the hero? Is this why Salome loves me? Do I love her, and did I therefore murder the hero? She is one with the prophet, one with John, but also one with me? Woe, was she the hand of God? I do not love her, I fear her. Then the spirit of the depths spoke to me and said: “Therein you acknowledge her divine power.” Must I love Salome?”

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So what is going on here with Jung meeting Elijah and Salome in his vision? It is helpful to have some context to these two characters. Elijah is a religious prophet who is said to have lived in northern Israel during the 9th century BC. He appears in all the Abrahamic religions as a key figure, and is said to have performed miracles comparable to Jesus, including: raising the dead, bringing fire down from the sky, entering Heaven alive by fire, and being a leader of a school of prophets.

Salome, on the other hand, has a much more controversial history. She lived in the first century AD. And infamously, she danced before Herod, the ruler of Galilee during his birthday banquet, and her dancing was so pleasing to Herod that he told her “Whatever you ask me for, I will give it to you, up to half my kingdom.” Salome consulted with her mother, and answered Herod “I want you to give me the head of John the Baptist on a platter.” Herod was not happy with this request, but he felt strongly that he had to uphold his oath, so he sent guards to the prison, and asked them to bring back John the Baptist’s head. And on that same night, they did, presenting the platter to Salome.

During the Middle Ages, her Biblical story took on new life in art and literature, her dance took on an erotic interpretation, and became known as the Dance of the Seven Veils, Salome became a symbol of the temptress, a symbol of unbridled desire, luring away those who are on the road of salvation. (She became a femme fatale figure in Oscar Wilde’s tragic play, Salome.)

It is with these connotations that Elijah and Salome appear in Jung’s mind. But rather than assuming that Jung is witnessing some kind of Biblical narrative unfold before his inner vision, I think it is more accurate to say that Elijah and Salome are symbols, in a sense, manifestations of aspects of Jung’s own mind. Elijah representing the path of spiritual knowledge, virtue, and mystical experience. Salome representing the path of earthly pleasure, vice, and ignorance.

The struggle between these two ways of living puts Jung in the center of an existential conundrum. Ultimately, in the writing that follows, Jung arrives at an understanding that implies that the way of Elijah and the way of Salome are not exclusive, but mutually dependent. They are not opposites, but instead form a duality of living, and one must learn to navigate it. In that context, Elijah’s words make sense “I and my daughter have been one since eternity.”

Jung later writes “The way of life writhes like the serpent from right to left and from left to right, from thinking to pleasure and from pleasure to thinking. Thus the serpent is an adversary and a symbol of enmity, but also a wise bridge that connects right and left through longing, much needed by our life.”

The symbols of Elijah and Salome reappear in several of Jung’s visions. Let’s explore the most startling one, which occurred December 25th, 1913. (p.194-198)

On the third night, deep longing to continue experiencing the
mysteries seized me. The struggle between doubt and desire was great in me.
But suddenly I saw that I stood before a steep ridge in a wasteland.

It is a dazzling bright day. I catch sight of the prophet high above me. His hand makes an averting movement, and I abandon my decision to climb up. I wait below, gazing upward. I look: to the right it is dark night; to the left it is bright day. The rock separates day and night.

On the dark side lies a big black serpent, on the bright side a white serpent.
They thrust their heads toward each other, eager for battle. Elijah stands on the heights
above them. The serpents pounce on one another and a terrible wrestling ensues.
The black serpent seems to be stronger; the white serpent draws back. Great billows of dust rise from the place of struggle.

But then I see: the black serpent pulls itself back again.

The front part of its body has become white. Both serpents curl about themselves, one in light, the other in darkness.

Elijah: “What did you see?”

I: “I saw the fight of two formidable serpents. It seemed to me
as if the black would overcome the white serpent; but behold, the
black one withdrew and its head and the top part of its body had
turned white.”

E: “Do you understand that?”

I: “I have thought it over, but I cannot understand it. Should it
mean that the power of the good light will become so great that
even the darkness that resists it will be illumined by it?”

Elijah climbs before me into the heights, to a very high summit;
I follow. On the peak we come to some masonry made of huge
blocks. It is a round embankment on the summit. Inside lies a
large courtyard, and there is a mighty boulder in the middle, like an
altar. The prophet stands on this stone and says:

“This is the temple of the sun. This place is a vessel, that collects the light of the sun.”

Elijah climbs down from the stone, his form becomes smaller in
descending, and finally becomes dwarflike, unlike himself.

I ask: “Who are you?”

“I am Mime, and I will show you the wellsprings. The collected light
becomes water and flows in many springs from the summit into the valleys of the earth.”

He then dives down into a crevice. I follow him down into a dark cave.
I hear the rippling of a spring. I hear the voice of the dwarf from below:

“Here are my wells, whoever drinks from them becomes wise.”

But I cannot reach down. I lose courage. I leave the cave and,
doubting, pace back and forth in the square of the yard. Everything
appears to me strange and incomprehensible. It is solitary and
deathly silent here. The air is clear and cool as on the remotest
heights, a wonderful flood of sunlight all around, the great wall
surrounds me. A serpent crawls over the stone. It is the serpent of
the prophet. How did it come out of the underworld into the world
above? I follow it and see how it crawls into the wall. I feel weird
all over: a little house stands there with a portico, minuscule,
snuggling against the rock. The serpents become infinitely small. I
feel as if I too am shrinking. The walls enlarge into a huge mountain
and I see that I am below on the foundation of the crater in the
underworld, and I stand before the house of the prophet.

He steps out of the door of his house.

I: “I notice, Elijah, that you have shown me and let me experience all sorts of strange things and allowed me to come before
you today. But I confess that it is all dark to me. Your world appears to me today in a new light. Just now it was as if I were separated by a starry distance from your place, which I still wanted to reach today. But behold: it seems to be one and the same place.”

E: “You wanted to come here far too much. I did not deceive you, you deceived yourself. He sees badly who wants to see; you have overreached yourself.”

I: “It is true, I eagerly longed to reach you, to hear more. Salome startled me and led me into bewilderment. I felt dizzy,
because what she said seemed to me to be monstrous and like madness. Where is Salome?”

E: “How impetuous you are! What is up with you? Step over to the crystal and prepare yourself in its light.”

A wreath of fire shines around the stone. I am seized with fear
at what I see: The coarse peasant’s boot? The foot of a giant that
crushes an entire city? I see the cross, the removal of the cross, the
mourning. How agonizing this sight is! No longer do I yearn—I see
the divine child, with the white serpent in his right hand, and the
black serpent in his left hand. I see the green mountain, the cross of
Christ on it, and a stream of blood flowing from the summit of the
mountain—I can look no longer, it is unbearable—I see the cross and
Christ on it in his last hour and torment—at the foot of the cross the
black serpent coils itself—it has wound itself around my feet—I am
held fast and I spread my arms wide. Salome draws near. The
serpent has wound itself around my whole body, and my countenance
is that of a lion.

Salome says, “Mary was the mother of Christ, do you understand?”

I: “I see that a terrible and incomprehensible power forces me to imitate the Lord in his final torment. But how can I presume to call Mary my mother?”

S: “You are Christ.”

I stand with outstretched arms like someone crucified, my body
taut and horribly entwined by the serpent:

“You, Salome, say that I am Christ?”

It is as if I stood alone on a high mountain with stiff
outstretched arms. The serpent squeezes my body in its terrible coils
and the blood streams from my body, spilling down the mountainside.

Salome bends down to my feet and wraps her black hair round them.

She lies thus for a long time. Then she cries,

“I see light!”

Truly, she sees, her eyes are open. The serpent falls from my
body and lies languidly on the ground. I stride over it and kneel at
the feet of the prophet, whose form shines like a flame.

E: “Your work is fulfilled here. Other things will come. Seek
untiringly, and above all write exactly what you see.”

Salome looks in rapture at the light that streams from the prophet.

Elijah transforms into a huge flame of white light. The serpent wraps itself around her foot, as if paralyzed.
Salome kneels before the light in wonderstruck devotion. Tears fall from my eyes, and I hurry out into the night, like one who has no part in the glory of the mystery. My feet do not touch the ground of this earth, and it is as if I were melting into air.

Closing:

My friends, this concludes Part One of Carl Jung & The Red Book.

And this brings us back to the question we explored at the beginning: Is The Red Book a work of art? Is this a work of creative literature? Something comparable to Dante’s Inferno. Or is it the personal journal of a visionary? In exploring this question, we are forced to consider: How much of creative insight is simply the result of our mind’s associative functions? The imagery that wells up as inspiration, could likely be the imagery that our unconscious mind is regularly playing with. As Elijah says “We are real and not symbols.” Jung was entering a deep meditative state, bordering on a dream state, and interacting with his unconscious in this way, causing creative episodes to unfold before him… Is the result of that process an act of creativity? Or an act of scientific observation? Can we look at a work of literature like Dante’s Inferno and say that Dante may have ventured into himself in a similar manner, and seen the imaginative depths of Hell in himself the way Jung was experiencing a hell of his own making.

We have covered a lot of ground on Jungian psychology and this enigmatic book, but it is just the tip of the iceberg. As with all things Jung, once you begin to peel back the onion, you enter an endlessly rich world that compels you to dig even deeper. And that is what we will do in Part Two. We will explore more of Jung’s fascinating visions, we will aim to understand his theory of archetypes (as that will help us in understanding these experiences even more), and we will explore how to apply this method in your own life. I have tested Jung’s method of entry into the deep self, and … it works. I am looking forward to sharing that experience with you on the next episode.

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