I think Jung made great art because he thought to ally with the unconsciousness rather than suppress it unlike some significant deary Anglo-psychology. Where does that leave the Ego I wonder?
Freud crossed the Alps to prove that the rational mind wasn’t the seat of reason; he saw it as a shaky adaptive principle struggling to compensate between the raw and moral; kicking so much of European thought in the face. When Jung flirts with blurring the lines between both Ego and Unconsciousness, seeing them as allies who does that leave in charge?
Caudwell said Freud was bourgeois, and he was right. He inhabited the minds of stiff aristocrats, where the raw spirit of man had to be tamed, kept down and feared- much like contending classes. That terrible mob that might discard the constraints of ‘civilization’ to trespass. Where they trespasses does not really matter, as any dream symbol can show you.
Freud was willing to stay a martyr to any challenges to his science he couldn’t overcome. His chosen heirs were all prodigal sons. Adler ran away, Jung too. Adler’s Individual psychology, at least, would not go to the depths of the worst of American psychology which crammed mistranslated excerpts of psychoanalysis into vulgar Taylorism that keeps people happy wage slaves.
This descent into pop psychology forgets and many wonder why a vulgar Freud even appears on the pages of textbooks today. Caudwell would even compare them to the coming fascist movement because of their anxieties over what was going to be unmasked about European modernity.
There is however much more to these men, a finer strain that we can see when they are in retreat. There is a Freud radical about all sexual orientation and identity, who does not feel any shame in being a neurotic. When Jung flees, as Caudwell says, to medieval symbols and mysticism there is man trying to dredge up the lost affects of alienated man under the cold gaze of modern functionalism.
Particularly fascinating is the role of images. After reading Jung’s ‘Man and his Symbols’, I tried to keep myself open to any symbolic images that came to mind. It doesn’t happen often but now and then a dreamlike and surreal image will present itself. This usually happens close to sleepiness. First I saw a headless version of me coming down the stairs, which frightened me quite a bit actually. While rubbing the sleepiness away from my eyes I thought of a Louts rising from the bottom of a pond snaking itself to the lake surface.
Then a nest of Jungle Crows, nestled between two rocks on a flowing steam. A single hatchling, alternatively a teal egg, being fed by four crows. I don’t have much to say about the significance of these images, there may not be ones at all, but opening myself up to their flavorful presence, well, maybe it’s a worthwhile bit of mysticism to soothe the modern anxious condition.