My idol is James Hillman. I have already quoted him in a previous letter. He is an author and psychoanalyst, and a very wise Jungian. Or was until the other Jungians thought he was too tricky. He has some unique ideas about our culture’s obsessions and the soul. He believes that it is important that there is SOUL even in the public debate. Which in today’s media climate can be perceived as an almost revolutionary idea, right?
An interesting thought Hillman has is that people do not mature, it’s just in our heads. He argues that the idea of evelopmentd, or “inner growth,” has become a fixed idea in our society. How do we grow, he wonders. Like tomatoes?
I think this is a relevant question. Do we really develop all the time? Do we have to always look forward and be so into results and perfection, both on the exterior and the interior? Maybe life is not a movement forward the way we assume in the western world? Maybe time, in fact, travels in the opposite direction? Many cultures believe that’s the case. Hillman tells a story that nicely illustrates how we draw conclusions depending on which direction we think time itself is moving. The tale is about Manolete, a famous Spanish bullfighter. He was killed by a bull during a magnificent performance. When Manolete was a kid, he was a coward hiding behind his mother’s skirt all the time. His charac- ter has been analyzed by numerous psychoanalysts. They call his behavior “compensatory.” He became a bullfighter because he was such a wimp as a child. That’s how psycho- analysis works—it is based on cause/effect connections. Another rhetoric is based on the idea that time works the other way around, flows in the opposite direction. The fu- ture knows what every moment will bring. What if it was Manolete’s destiny to become a great bullfighter? Perhaps he was called by something greater than his poor self- esteem. Maybe his child’s soul heard a cry from the future? No wonder he was hanging around his mother then, right?
These are two completely different ways of looking at human life, one “as a matter of fact” and one more mysterious. I dedicate myself to the latter because it gives life a sense of deeper meaning, whether or not it is true.
Perhaps there is something that you might call fate. We all still have to relate to what we in everyday life call reality. The daily struggle with bills, work, and living conditions. Some need help to bring perspective and decide to undergo therapy. I’ve also done this for a short period of time. My psychologist saw himself as part of the health care system and hoped that I would be “healthy” soon. Normal.
Hillman thinks differently and calls therapy an art form.
Going to therapy is, according to my idol, much like working as a writer – the person in therapy articulates his own life story, to make life feel more understandable.
Who cares if the story has played out “in real life” or not?
If it is a lie or the truth? Not me. Hillman suggests our culture suffers from a lack of functioning fiction. Our common fantasy about who we are has simply crashed on a collective level.
Every society is based on a common dream. What does the West’s dream really look like? Capitalism’s dream is consumption. But does consumption create images that deepen the soul? Just like Hillman, I conclude that we must begin to defend the fiction of our lives, to feel free to fanta- size both individually and collectively. We need to include the importance of not only telling the truth, but also the art of dreaming, because there is a chance the literal truth doesn’t exist; it’s just bad fiction that we take for granted.
Petra Revenue, Dear Mr. S.