Jung and Feminism

Liberating Archetypes

Demaris S. Wehr

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2015
• ISBN:
  9781317307778
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Psychologie
• Subtopic: Psychologie jungienne

Jung, in contrast to Freud, has typically been considered more sympathetic to women largely because of his emphasis on the feminine as a way of being in the world and on the 'anima', the unconscious feminine aspect of male personality. Feminists, however, have viewed Jung's whole notion of the 'feminine' with suspicion, seeing it as a projection of male psyche and not an authentic understanding of female humanity.

For Demaris Wehr both feminism and Jungian psychology have been guiding forces, and in this book, originally published in 1988, she mediates between feminists and classical Jungians – two groups historically at odds. She faces squarely the male-centred assumptions of some Jungian concepts and challenges Jung's claims for the universality and purely empirical basis of his work, but nevertheless maintains an appreciation for the value of Jung's understanding of human nature and the process of individuation. By bringing the insights of feminist theology to bear on the seemingly unbridgeable gap between analytical psychology and feminism, she succeeds in reclaiming Jungian psychology as a freeing therapy for women and reveals it as the ultimately liberating vision its founder intended it to be.

1
Jung and Feminism: Opposition or Dialogue?

In his foreword to Twice-Told Tales, Bruno Bettelheim tells a story from his experience of teaching fairy tales to graduate students in psychology. Having had the students write down from memory a fairy tale that had been important to them in their childhood, Bettelheim asks them to reread the original tale and to compare it with their remembered version. Students are always startled at the contrast between their remembered tales and the actual tales. Bettelheim singles out one student for comment:

Asked to recall her favorite childhood fairy tale, one student, a normal well-functioning person in her mid-twenties, wrote instead a diatribe against what she characterized as male chauvinism in "Hansel and Gretel." The story had obsessed her as a child and had continued to make her very angry whenever it came to her mind, which happened frequently.¹

To make a long story short, this student remembered Hansel as completely dominating Gretel, to the point of believing that Hansel, not Gretel, pushed the witch into the oven. The student blamed the fairy tale for encouraging her passive behavior, which gave her brother a great deal of responsibility in and power over her life. She "in large part blamed this dependency on fairy tales such as this one, which she felt impressed girls with the message that domination by older brothers—or males—is their inescapable lot."² The woman was dumbfounded to discover that in the original tale Gretel, not Hansel, pushes the witch into the oven. She refused to believe it. She searched and searched for the truly original tale, until she finally had to accept the fact that for psychological reasons unknown to her, she had constructed her own unique version of the tale.³

While Bettelheim may not intend to discredit feminism or this woman's feminist leanings (in fact, he does not mention feminism at all), in his account of her distortion of the fairy tale material, he implies that feminists (at least this one) project their psychological problems onto the surrounding context far more than is warranted.

Ann Ulanov, a Jungian analyst, likewise finds weaknesses in the position of many feminists, deploring the absence of introspection and self-criticism inherent in blaming others (i.e., patriarchy or men) for one's problems. She points out that such blaming robs women of their own authority, giving it once again to men. "Some feminists take up this position of woman as victim so vigorously that their conviction of woman's capacity for self-determination is belied."⁴ "When we locate all injustice and unhappiness outside ourselves, we find a place to put all our negative feelings. Politicization, in contrast to politics, acts as an opiate for anger and anxiety. Rage becomes a weapon for social change. That the anger is excessive, overdetermined by unconscious causes, attacks the rights of others, and foments violence, is not important."⁵ Perhaps Ulanov's most telling observation regards those feminists who wish to reduce sexual differences to socialization. In defense of the Jungian term "the feminine," Ulanov says:

The origins of these symbols {of the feminine} cannot be traced solely to objects introjected or implanted from without. The argument against this position, that such a range of feminine symbols merely demonstrates a sexism that overarches the centuries appeals mainly because of its stunning simplemindedness. Reductionism on such a grand scale is an unconscious tribute to male power; it merely offers escape from the hard fact that the feminine element of being has been recognized for centuries. We may challenge the way it has been misused to abuse women, but we cannot avoid it or reject it.⁶

In a similar manner, other psychologists and psychoanalysts have "psychologized" the feminist movement.

Rosemary Ruether, a leading U.S. feminist theologian, takes an opposing view. She faults Jungian psychology for supporting men's "co-optation" of the feminist movement. Some men, she says, "become aware that the polarization of the sexes is a real issue. They leap quickly to the thought that men too have suffered from sexism; indeed they have suffered 'equally.' ... They need to recover the 'feminine' side of themselves. Jungian psychology provides the intellectual base for this male 'feminism.'"⁷ Ruether focuses her argument precisely on the "feminine" that Ulanov finds central and ineradicable in human life, and whose source Ulanov firmly believes cannot be traced solely to externals because it is universally present:

In {male feminists'} identification of their own suppressed self with the "feminine," they think they have a handle on women's true "nature." They want women to cultivate this male definition of the "feminine" in order to nurture the "feminine side" of men. They purport to understand and sympathize with women and, no doubt, sincerely think they do. But they tend to become very hostile when women suggest that this definition of the "feminine" is really a male projection and not female humanity. The male ego is still the center of the universe, which "feminism" is now seduced into enhancing in a new way.⁸

Another prominent feminist theologian, Mary Daly, goes further than Ruether in condemning Jung:

Particularly seductive is the illusion of equality projected through Jung's androcratic animus-anima balancing act, since women are trained to be grateful for "complementarity" and token inclusion.... Thus it is possible for women to promote Jung's garbled gospel without awareness of betraying their own sex and even in the belief that they are furthering the feminist cause.⁹

Thus the stage is set for unending conflict between feminists who discount Jungian psychology and Jungian psychologists who discount feminism. When people become adversaries it is easy indeed to attack each others weakest sides, often—as in this case—with considerable accuracy. The battle lines are drawn and, it would appear, there is little ground for fruitful dialogue. In this kind of conflict, each side focuses only on the obvious weaknesses, without acknowledging or addressing the others equally important strengths. In both cases, it seems, "buttons are pushed" and willingness to listen is suspended. But if one can listen to one's harshest critics, one can usually learn something. With regard to both Jungian psychology and feminism, the criticisms on both sides have some merit. It is their sweepingly condemning nature that lessens the possibility of mutual learning and dialogue.

For example, Ulanov's point is well taken that by blaming patriarchy for an unmitigated sexism, some women avoid examining the ways they accept patriarchy's definition of them. For their own unconscious reasons, they thus bypass awareness of their collusion with a definition of woman as victim. Ulanovs desire, if I read her correctly, is to free women from that kind of self-deceptive tyranny, to aid them in becoming mature and responsible adults able to choose not to be victims. But feminism cannot be dismissed as "stunningly simpleminded" in its analysis of the feminine. Ulanov has missed the intellectually complex and often brilliant nature of feminist discussions. For their part, many feminists condemn Jung for his androcentrism, and they are accordingly unable to admit the possible benefits of an in-depth understanding of the human psyche such as the one he offers. Ruether and Daly, for example, unsympathetic to Ulanov, claim that Jung's concept of the "feminine" does not adequately address women's reality, women's sense of who they are. Jung's "feminine," they maintain, becomes one more way of alienating women from their own selves. Both Ruether and Daly have done extensive research on the wounding of women (and men) by the pervasiveness of sexism, and as a result, they attempt to reverse androcentrism in their scholarship. (Androcentrism refers to an unconscious assumption of the male point of view as normative and results in naming the world out of the male perspective. This term, like other terms common to feminist thinkers, is explained in depth in chapter 2.) In very different ways, both Ruether and Daly speak with a woman's voice—a woman naming and claiming her own authority and defining her own categories. This reversal out of androcentrism into the centering in women's experience is extremely difficult for women to engage in for many reasons, not the least of which is habit. Perhaps the worst reason is the "punishment" women in patriarchal societies experience for going against the prevailing thought patterns. Daly and Ruether use a different perspective, hail from a different experience, and have a different primary agenda than Ulanov and Bettelheim. For Daly and Ruether, women's emergence out of the limitations of sexism is central. For Ulanov and Bettelheim, the reality of the unconscious, as it has been defined by Jung or Freud, is paramount.

Many women have found great benefit in Jung's psychology as it stands, needing no feminist revision. Some of these women, Ann Ulanov or Marie Louise von Franz, for example, have become Jungian analysts and authors. Scores of others attend Jung clubs, consult Jungian analysts, and study Jungian psychology. What is the appeal? In searching the writings of jungian women for their personal experience of jungian psychology, I found two who spoke directly to the issue: June Singer and Stephanie Halpern, responding to one of Naomi Goldenberg's early feminist criticisms. For both of them, the value of Jungs psychology is that it reinforces and illuminates their experience. Singer says: "My own personal experience has been that Eros, the quality of relationship has always come naturally to me, while Logos, the quality of intellectual discrimination and incisive confrontation in the world, has been something I have had to learn." She shows little appreciation, or even understanding, of Goldenberg's point that such tendencies are not "natural" but are a reflection of patriarchally inscribed roles. Later in the same article Singer corroborates Jung's animus model for women: "I have always looked upon my animus, my masculine soul, as being carried by those masculine-creative images in the world like Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, Buckminster Fuller, William Blake, and others who, for me, have exemplified soul material in a very practical and concrete way."¹⁰ Stephanie Halpern also defends Jung's psychology:

I read with considerable dismay assertions by Naomi Goldenberg that Jungian psychology is "racist, sexist, and closed to new experience." For the past sixteen years of my life I have been involved with Jungian thinking as an analysand, in part as a teacher and in recent years as a psychotherapist. This has not been my living experience.... Jungian psychology taught me more of what I already knew as a young woman sixteen years ago; that is, that I could not fit into the world view of my patriarchal fathers or worship their God in the ways set forth for me.¹¹

Nonfeminist Jungian authors take for granted Jung's point of departure; Ann Ulanov in particular appears to find great profundity in Jung's vision of a psyche based on polarities, including sexual polarities (the "masculine" and the "feminine"). The primary appeal of Jung's psychology to women, it seems to me—based partly on my own experience—is that it is a "meaning-making" psychology. From within the Jungian framework, dreams, fairy tales, myths, and other forms of folklore contain wisdom and direction for our lives. Meaning is also found in dialogue with one's "inner figures," who present themselves in dreams. Jung's psychology can open up new worlds—not only those of dreams, fairy tales, and myth, but also of poetry, music, dance, arts, and crafts. For Jung, the unconscious was the source of creativity, and Jungian psychology often releases creativity hitherto unexpressed. Analytical psychology offers a balance to an overly rational, materialistic world and can shed light on the darkness of a soul lacking meaning. It can be the path to a person's spiritual awakening.

For nonfeminist Jungian women, Jung's validation of the "feminine" has great appeal. They find permission in his psychology to be "feminine," as well as to actualize their "masculine" side. In a world where women now compete with men on male terms, Jungian women (many of whom are successful in the "outer" world) feel vindicated in relying on what Jung would call their "feminine instinct." Jung defined the feminine largely in terms of receptivity—for Jung, receptivity is the sine qua non of religious experience, which links the feminine and religion as well. In classes where I have taught Jungian psychology to feminists, I have noticed that they frequently reject Jung's notion of the feminine and its corresponding receptivity. They argue that Jung is stereotyping women once again, depriving them of being agents in their own right. Jungian women feel just the opposite; they believe receptivity is a quality much needed in the world, and that it is a form of empowerment.

Both Jungian psychology and feminism function as ideologies and both are controversial. They galvanize one's deepest loyalties, it becomes difficult to think outside the parameters of either one of these worldviews once one is within them. Each contains a compelling explanation of the world as it is, and each meets the needs of its many adherents for understanding and order. In these ways and others, each one comes close to being a "religion." Indeed, as I shall explore in depth in a later chapter, the religiousness of Jungs psychology is an important part of its appeal and its strength.

In some measure this conflict reflects an ongoing tension between the disciplines of sociology and psychology, since many feminist theologians draw on the assumptions of sociologists. At the risk of oversimplification, one could say that sociology seeks an explanation of the world, of society, and of individual psychology in social (group) forces, while psychology's explanations focus primarily on causes within the individual psyche and extend them to society at large. Therefore, from the perspective of depth psychology, to understand society one must understand the psyche. For Jung, this means understanding the collective unconscious that embraces all of humanity. It is the "sea" on which the individual unconscious and conscious rest. It contains "qualities that are not individually acquired but are inherited, e.g., instincts as impulses to carry out actions from necessity, without conscious motivation."¹² This Jungian concept is actually a bridge between sociological and psychological explanations, since it takes in both the individual and the collective. But it is often understood as operating a priori and ontologically, rather than sociologically, and therefore as being in conflict with sociological views.

Syntheses

Attempts at synthesis have come, for the most part, from academicians, especially feminist theologians. However, there are some Jungian analysts who use feminist insights, such as Sylvia Brinton Perera and Linda Leonard; and there is at least one self-identified feminist Jungian analyst, Polly Young-Eisendrath. One of the most thorough attempts at integrating feminist thought and Jungian psychology is an anthology edited by Estella Lauter and Carol Schreier Rupprecht. In their introduction and conclusion, as well as in their essays and those of the other authors, Lauter and Rupprecht examine the significance of an archetypal unconscious in women's lives today, returning again and again to women's lived experience for corroboration. Lauter and Rupprecht recommend "unconsciousness raising," and a multidisciplinary approach to feminist theory-making.¹³

Naomi Goldenberg and Carol Christ are two feminist theologians who also have attempted to bridge the gap between the two points of view. Both of them have criticized Jungian psychology from a feminist perspective, yet each has retained elements from depth psychology that she feels are essential to an understanding of the human condition and to a renewal of life on this planet.¹⁴ Christ makes the point that Jungian psychology addresses the situation of the male quite well, but that it offers an inadequate portrait of the female psyche.¹⁵ I will expand on this point in chapter 6. Goldenberg recommends that feminists retain Jungs vision of the importance of myth, ritual, and symbol in human life. She finds Jung's method of working with dreams promising, and she focuses on the role of dreams, fantasies, and visions in a feminist mode.¹⁶ Yet these women have not been widely accepted among Jungians, perhaps because they have identified themselves as feminists. Goldenberg says, "I am often termed animus-ridden when I speak to Jungian audiences about the logi...