The Therapeutic Use of Stories

Kedar Nath Dwivedi

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2006
• eBook ISBN: 9781134747351
• Topic: Psychology
• Subtopic: Mental Health in Psychology
• Index: Psychology

The potential for healing available in well-known myths and stories is increasingly recognized, but many practitioners are unsure how to tap into this rich and often culturally-specific source of insight. What sort of story is best for what sort of situation? How can it be introduced naturally into the session? What is the best way of using the story?
These are some of the questions contributors to this book set out to answer. They explore the historical and cultural context of story-telling and provide examples of specific stories for specific situations.
Covering emotional themes such as anger, anxiety, fear, shame, guilt, separation and bereavement, the authors show how they work through stories with many different kinds of client groups and individuals of all ages in educational, health and social science settings.
The Therapeutic Use of Stories provides a sound theoretical framework for the use of stories, examples of stories with a high therapeutic value, and practical advice on how to use them to best effect.

Chapter 1
Historical backdrop

Amit Bhattacharyya

ONCE UPON A TIME . . .

One may wonder what the connection is between myths and therapy. Why should anyone know about our past ancestry when so much of it is shrouded in mystery and most cannot be verified? Why should therapists using ‘talking treatments’ find the legends, fables, folk tales and fairy stories fascinating when those therapies claim to have a scientific basis? Does it not cloud our critical judgement even further and delay the process of enlightenment? But Popper (1963) suggests: ‘Science must begin with myths, and with the criticism of myths; neither with the collection of observations, nor with the invention of experiments, but with the critical discussion of myths, and of magical techniques and practices.’ The connection may lie in the common quest in the study of myths and the investigation of the self. After all, a reconstruction of what has gone on, and how that affects what is now and what will be, is the aim of both types of enquiry. With that purpose in mind, we will examine myths and their universality in the history of human existence to see how that knowledge has been utilized in education, therapy and self-understanding.

Myths are about stories. Stories depict experience of life. Yesterday’s stories become tomorrow’s myths. They represent the culture, traditions, attitudes and values of a race or a nation. They show their dreams and aspirations and are handed down through the generations as history. Myths contain unconscious material in a disguised form to be absorbed and internalized by the listener for use in his or her personal life, and then in due course to be passed on to others. Myths try to answer such questions as where one comes from and where one belongs, so that an indi vidual, a group or a race can find a context for being and a point of identification with their ancestors. Thus one can have ideas about birth and creation, as well as death and an ending and what happens after death.

Campbell, a great researcher into myths in modern times, says that without myths man loses the meaning of his inner life, and he blames many of the ills of modern-day living on the way we exist in a demythologized society. He made extensive studies of myths; in his four volumes entitled The Masks of God ([1959–67]1982) he explores their origins, purpose and dynamics in different cultures, drawing attention to the similarities between them.

Myths also give a framework for social systems and their norms and what might be called tradition. They also legitimize power, dynasties and ways of life. Until recently, the Japanese emperor was believed to be a direct descendant of Amaterasu, the goddess of the sun, thereby holding divine status. The Ynglinga saga of Sweden suggests the dynasty to have descended from the ancient fertility god/king, Yngvi-Frei. The Ranas of Mewar in Rajasthan, India, were similarly thought to have descended directly from the sun, and in the Mahabharata, the ancient Indian epic, the heroes, the Pandavas, were all sons of different gods. The Caesars were seen as living gods or were deified soon after their death. Perhaps through the ages the power of the ruler has always been strengthened by rituals performed giving him divine sanction and authority over ordinary people.

Myths also denote patterns of migration, political change, invasion and conquest and other historical information of a tribe or race. The Celtic mythology even gives dates of historical significance particularly relevant to the people of Ireland. Some say that the ancient Iranians and Indians originate from the same Indo-European race, giving as evidence the similarities between the languages and myths of the two civilizations. Two groups of Aryans (possibly the word was derived from Eran or Iran) might have fought a series of wars and one group emigrated to the east.

The common cult of fire and the rites of the ambrosial Haoma in Zend- Avesta, the religious text of ancient Persia, and those of Soma in Vedic culture seem too close to ignore, as their names suggest. Not only that, but those mythological figures seen as good in one culture are seen as evil in the other, although there are common gods as well. The Daevas are seen as bad in the Avesta, and yet Devas are the gods in the Vedic pantheon and are always seen to be fighting the Asuras. Indra, the great warrior and ruler of the gods in Vedic culture, becomes an evil person who deceives men in Iranian culture. Ahura (Mazda), the supreme god in the Avesta, sounds too much like Asura, in Hindu mythology. Both streams possibly had links with the Assyrians, and strangely enough the name of a great Assyrian king, Assura Mahipal, does mean in Sanskrit ‘Asura, king of the world’!

The development of languages gives a clue to the common origins of tribes and their patterns of migration. To give just one example, there is an interesting link between the Slavonic language and Sanskrit: the word Svarog in Slavonic myths denotes the supreme elemental deity of the sky, and swar or swarga in Sanskrit means the sky or heaven.

It would seem myths perform a similar role to the sections of a tree trunk telling the history of the tree or the layers of the earth giving vital information to the geologist regarding their past. Like an archaeologist reconstructing parts of human history, a student of myths can paint a biographical picture of a race.

After conquests, the myths of the conqueror are gradually assimilated into the culture of the vanquished and the characters of the mythical figures of the former become acceptable in the latter. The stories of the Indian epic, the Ramayana, have been modified and incorporated into the culture of many countries of south-east Asia because of early conquests by Indian invaders, and have survived in spite of the later conversion of those countries to Islam.

History, on the other hand, may be rewritten to suit the prevailing mood. This is not very different from what happens even now. An enemy of yesterday may become the friend of today, as Orwell portrays in his book 1984. The recent upheavals behind the Iron Curtain have already shown this to be possible, as demythologization of previous heroes occurs and new heroes take their places. One can already see how, in one Far Eastern country, a cult of myth is being promoted to enhance the stature of its president who has succeeded his father.

Myths and symbols are often interlinked, in that a symbol may refer to an underlying myth. This is where it differs from a sign. The symbol of the cross is not just a sign, but projects all that is meant by it. It is interesting that recent discoveries in China suggest that the cross as a symbol preceded Christianity and did not become a Christian symbol until well after the crucifixion. Sometimes a symbol may change its meaning if it comes to represent a different history. The swastika, which in Sanskrit is a symbol of peace, comfort and harmony and is used in every Hindu auspicious ceremony even today, was hijacked in its reverse form by the Nazis, bringing misery and terror to millions and representing opposite ideas to the original ones. A common symbol in the form of a national flag has inspired individuals and groups to great acts of courage and sacrifice.

Whether myths tell the truth of some bygone days or are totally unreasonable fantasies will be debated for ever. The very word ‘mythology’ hints at a combination of fiction and truth. One important characteristic of myths is their universality. Claude Lévi-Strauss (1978), the French anthropologist, has been one of several in this century to suggest that this is an important indication of a common framework of all human life. Campbell and Moyes (1988) describe it as like ‘a song of the universe’ which brings man in contact with his place in creation, opening his eyes to the ‘radiance of the mind of God’.

The description of a deluge seems to be present in many cultures: in the story of Noah’s Ark, in Indian and Chinese myths and elsewhere. Satyabrata Manu builds a boat to save mankind in India, Uta-Naphistim does the same in Assyrian myths and all the ancient American myths abound in this story. Even the Aztecs believed that a man named Coxcoxtli and a woman named Xochiquetzal escaped in a boat to land on top of a mountain – not Mount Ararat in this case, but Mount Colhuacan!

The myths of creation also show a universality. Many describe a chaotic amalgam or a limitless ocean from which differentiation takes place, creating the earth. From the fusion of Apsu and Tiamat, sweet and salt water, arose all creatures, according to Babylonian myth. Egyptian mythology describes how a piece of land rose out of the water; the spirit of the creator resided in this primordial water, or Nun, and from it developed all beings, which had lain dormant within it. Greek mythology refers to Chaos, from which everything is created. This is repeated in some of the American myths, and from Guatemala across to the Polynesian Islands.

Another set of cosmogonic myths involve a creator, a cosmic egg or a union of two divine parents. The Indian and Egyptian stories of creation are similar: in the Egyptian myth, a lotus appears from Nun and opens to reveal the primeval deity, while in the Indian version Brahma, the creator, is revealed in the lotus coming out of the navel of Narayana, lying in the endless sea. One meaning of Narayana is ‘one who rests on water’.

Another common theme seems to be a sacrifice bringing about creation, as in the Saharan myths regarding a dismembered serpent called Minia. This is comparable to the story of the sacrifice of Tiamat in Babylonian myth or one of the Indian versions, where the bodies of the demons Madhu and Kaitabha, killed by Vishnu, form the earth. The sacrifice is often associated with death and renewal, as in the myth of Osiris: after Osiris has been killed by his brother Seth, his body is divided up and scattered throughout the land. In the Arthurian legends, a similar renewal theme is described in the story of Gawain and the Green Knight.

With the advent of analytical thought and psychology, one aspect of the universality of myths has been studied extensively. The myth of the hero shows several common characteristics all the world over. Special features surround the birth of heroes. They are abandoned because of a prophesy, or they are illegitimate, and they undergo extreme hardship initially to survive. They then make good, and after many exploits, trials and tribulations return in triumph to the tribe. Often the death of the hero is dramatic.

Tylor (1863) and von Hahn (1876) were among the first to notice this common pattern. Later, Otto Rank, one of the followers of Freud, wrote The Myth of the Birth of the Hero (1959) to explain his theories of this universality. Other scholars, such as Campbell (1956) and Raglan (1956) have defined this further; although each has his own ideas, a common thread runs through their thinking. The myths of Oedipus, Perseus and Paris from Greek mythology, the stories of Kama and Krishna in India, that of Sargon from Babylon, Gilgamesh from Persia and Sigfreid from the Teutonic myths, the exploits of Tristan and Galahad in the Arthurian legends, the folk tale of Lachausis from Latvia and many others have an uncanny similarity. The story of Moses and even the life of Jesus have been considered by many researchers to have similar themes.

Apart from the central theme of triumph of good over evil, the success of the Star Wars movies may be attributed to the utilization of the hero myth. A prince is abandoned by his father who turns evil, the princess in distress calls for help, the prince leaves his isolation and after many hazards rescues her, finds his rightful place in society and ultimately destroys evil.

Myths also have an educational function; fables, parables and folk tales have been used in every society to educate and impart values. Fables often take a story form about animals and end up in a moral, whereas parables describe real situations which can be practised in life. Christ’s parables in the New Testament are recognised as a powerful way of teaching. The Bible has an abundance of stories which educate. Most of the stories in the Jataka are told by the Buddha to teach his disciples through his past lives on his path to enlightenment. Religious teachers have always used allegorical stories and metaphors in this way. The tales of Confucius and the Taoist tales from China belong to this category. All such stories were spread by troubadours, travelling minstrels and monks.

The earliest fables known were probably told by Aesop, a story teller in the sixth century BC in Greece. The Panchatantra – ‘Five Treatises’ – was reputedly written in south India by Vishnu Sharma, but is also ascribed to Bidpai, in the third century BC. Here the old Brahmin devises animal stories to teach the ways of life, divided into five categories, to three unruly princes who have been given up as ineducable. A similar motive to teach five princes was the inspiration behind the Hitopadesha – the ‘Book of Good Counsel’ – in northern India. Another group of writings, including ‘The Twenty Tales of Vetala’ and ‘The Tales of the Thirty- Two Fairies of the Throne of Vikrama’, originated in India and depict various human dilemmas and their successful solutions.

Much later, stories of a cunning fox, entitled ‘Le Roman de Renard’, became popular in medieval France. The animal theme was further utilized in France by La Fontaine in the seventeenth century; his rhyming fables are probably some of the best known. Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales also make use of allegories and fables, as do the works of Dante; a more recent example is George Orwell’s Animal Farm.

Fairy stories and folk tales have always been a popular medium for imparting moral education and describing life experiences. Among the foremost exponents are the Danish writer, Hans Christian Andersen, and the German brothers Grimm, who incidentally had a great interest in the myths of the German people. These nineteenth-century stories are extremely popular. They can be taken as simple stories by children, but at another level they contain fundamental experiences of life appreciated all over the world. Beatrix Potter’s stories, among many others, fall in this category. And although The Arabian Nights is ordinarily perceived as full of bawdy tales, the stories themselves portray life and all its vicissitudes, and most of them contain religious, moral and educational lessons.

MYTHS AND THERAPY

Freud, the pioneer of psychoanalysis and all the other ‘talking therapies’ that followed from it, realized the importance of myths in understanding human psychology. In writing about one of his fundamental concepts regarding sexuality, he says:

You will be no less surprised to hear that male children suffer from a fear of being robbed of their sexual organ by their father, so that this fear of being castrated has a most powerful influence on the development of their character and in deciding the direction to be followed by their sexuality. And here again mythology may give you the courage to believe psycho-analysis. The same Kronos who swallowed his children also emasculated his father Uranus, and was afterwards himself emasculated in revenge by his son Zeus, who had been rescued through his mother’s cunning. If you have felt inclined to suppose that all that psychoanalysis reports about the early sexuality of children is derived from the disordered imagination of the analysts, you must at least admit that their imagination has created the same product as the imaginative activities of primitive man, of which myths and fairy tales are the precipitate.

(Freud 1926: 211–12)

Freud goes on to say how these archaic factors continue to thrive in the mental life of the child, who uses the history of his race, inherent in him in embryonic form. As a classical scholar, Freud used the Oedipal myth to explain a central thesis in psychoanalysis. This revolves round the development of the child and his struggles to cope with the triangular relationship between him and his parents, as it changes from a dyadic relationship between him and his mother to a time when he recognizes the father as his rival. Freud essentially describes this so-called Oedipus complex for a boy, but he also explains how a girl deals with this early conflict.

Freud’s ideas in this area have often been trivialized or misinterpreted. One of his followers, Bruno Bettelheim (1983), writes about these misconceptions in defence of Freud. In Bettelheim’s view, Freud’s choice of certain terms such as psyche and eros seem to have been prompted by his knowledge of the Greek myths and their relevance in understanding fundamental principles of Freudian thought.

Segal (1990) writes that, ‘Only in passing does Freud himself analyse myth. Because he always compares myths with dreams.’ Freud analysed symbols in dreams to understand the unconscious, and considered dreams to be ‘the royal road’ to such understanding (Freud 1900). One is reminded of the custom in ancient Greece, where, to achieve a cure, the sufferer had to sleep at the temple of Aesclepius in the hope that the god would appear in a dream and offer a remedy.

In contrast, C.G. Jung, an initial follower of Freud and later the father of analytical psychology, believed in the connection between dreams, symbols and myths. His analyses of dreams are much more to do with the individual dreamer and his uniqueness, and he sees the symbols as more personal to the dreamer than as offering a meaning which is all-pervasive. Jung (1978) warns against interpreting dream symbols to patients, in case the projections of the therapist are used to fill in the gaps, and stresses the importance of sticking to the context of the particular dream, ‘excluding all theoretical assumptions about dreams in general – except for the hypothesis that dreams in some way make sense’ (ibid.: 50). He says that dreams ‘originate in a spirit that is not quite human, but is rather a breath of nature . . . we shall certainly get closer to it in the sphere of ancient mythologies, or the fables of the primeval forest, than in the consciousness of modern man’ (ibid.: 36).

This understanding of the universality of dreams and symbols through his clinical experience with patients and his own analysis, in combination with a unique knowledge of the myths and rituals of mankind, allowed Jung to develop his theories of archetypes and the collective unconscious. He went far beyond what Freud called ‘archaic remnants’, and thought of archetypes as primordial images, an inherited part of the psyche and a biological norm for its activity linking it to the body, instinct and image. There are innate ideas of pre-formats, such as father, mother, self, ...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Notes on contributors
• Preface
• Chapter 1: Historical backdrop
• Chapter 2: Theoretical perspectives and clinical approaches
• Chapter 3: Maps and meaning in life and healing
• Chapter 4: Psychotherapeutic paradigms from Indian mythology
• Chapter 5: Management of anger and some Eastern stories
• Chapter 6: Using metaphor and imagery
• Chapter 7: For better or worse
• Chapter 8: Splitting, envy, jealousy and rivalry
• Chapter 9: Separation, loss and bereavement
• Chapter 10: Stories used therapeutically with children in educational settings
• Chapter 11: Stories in the context of family therapy
• Chapter 12: The use of stories to help children who have been abused
• Chapter 13: Stories for children with disabilities
• Chapter 14: New perspectives