SOURCE: Beeker, Jon. “Archetype and Myth in Chateaubriand's Atala.” Symposium 31, no. 2 (summer 1977): 93-106.

[In the following essay, Beeker analyzes Atala from a Jungian perspective. Using archetypal imagery, Beeker asserts the work acts as a monomyth, in that it portrays the ego's struggle for self-emancipation, and presents the characters of Atala and Chactas as two aspects of one psyche.]

Chateaubriand's intent in writing Atala is clearly stated in the epilogue to the work. Here we see that the author's goal was essentially that of presenting to the readers an example of the importance of the Christian religion:

Je vis dans ce récit le tableau du peuple chasseur et du peuple laboureur, la religion, première législatrice des hommes, les dangers de l'ignorance et de l'enthousiasme religieux, opposés aux lumières, à la charité et au véritable esprit de l'Évangile, les combats des passions et des vertus dans un coeur simple, enfin le triomphe du Christianisme sur le sentiment le plus fougueux et la crainte la plus terrible, l'amour et la mort.¹

There is, however, another aspect of the work which may be at least equally important. It is the symbolic implication of the story. The great majority of studies dealing with Atala have treated in varying degrees its biographical, historical, philosophical or even its botanical significance. Studies by Dennis Spininger² and Joyce Lowrie,³ however, have contributed greatly to our understanding of the largely neglected symbolic content of the story.

Atala is indeed a highly symbolic tale. If the story of Chactas' peregrinations through the wilderness of the New World is examined for its deeper, symbolic meaning, the message it conveys is quite different from the version traditionally accepted. When the story is examined from the point of view of the archetypal imagery it contains its thematic structure is seen to be a graphic expression of the ageless drama of the “self-emancipation of the ego, struggling to free itself from the power of the unconscious and to hold its own against overwhelming odds.”⁴ This is what Carl Jung terms the process of individuation. The internal struggle it entails is often projected into literature as what has been called the monomyth.⁵ It relates the mythological adventure of a hero who undergoes certain initiatory trials before attaining his goal of psychological independence and selfhood. He typically makes a journey composed of three basic elements: Separation, Initiation, Return.⁶ The Separation appears as his departure for the quest, the Initiation is presented as the trials he undergoes to test his fitness. The last stage is a final triumphant return to become master of his world. Examples of this mythological journey in folk-tales are numerous and well documented by C. G. Jung, Joseph Campbell, Erich Neumann, Mircea Eliade, et al. Variations in the basic pattern do occur, however, showing particular facets of the individual involved.⁷

In Atala the maiden from whom the story takes its title is not its most important figure in relation to symbolic content. It is, in fact, Chactas' story that is being told. It may be argued that the author's attention is focused on Atala, however. This is not to be denied, for she is in fact the embodiment of the goal sought by the hero. Psychologically she may be seen as representing a major component of the hero's psyche. Neither of them alone is a complete person. Erich Neumann finds that the figure of just such a virginal being as Atala is often present in the mythology of the hero. “At his side there stands the good mother in the shape of his own mother and the sisterly virgin, either fused together or as two separate figures.”⁸ Here the figures of Atala and Chactas are projections of the complementary archetypes of Anima and Animus, the two basic components of the human psyche. It will be noted that the desire of both young innocents is the eventual dissolution of the forces keeping them apart. While this is presented as both a physical and emotional union in a marriage blessed by the church, which Atala unfortunately believes to be impossible, it is in truth symbolic of the desired union of two complementary yet opposing aspects of a single psyche. Atala and Chactas are personifications of the female principle and the male principle which exist simultaneously in each human being, yet whose forces must be reconciled if psychic balance is to be achieved.⁹ This desired reconciliation of opposites is the motivating force in Atala.

The detailed description of the exotic physical setting for which the tale is so well known begins in the Prologue. America is a new Eden (p. 30) and the Mississippi is the Nile of the Wilderness (p. 31). Both metaphors suggest extreme age and imply as well that in America there is to be a new beginning. As Spinninger has noted (p. 530), both Eden and the Nile are associated with the beginning of the history of mankind. These implications put the succeeding events on a very grand scale. They seem to have an importance far exceeding the literal message.

The récit begins with Chactas' return to the forest from which he came to live with Lopez. Chactas was “saisi du dégoût de la vie des cités” (p. 45), and was longing to return to his native forests. Something of Chactas' character is seen in the words of Lopez: “Va […] enfant de la nature! et je te remettrais dans les bras de ta mère” (p. 46). This marks the beginning of the Separation or Departure stage of the mythic journey. That Chactas has started on a return to his beginnings is evidenced by the words enfant and mère. These will become recurrent themes. The idea of a “return” is particularly important because the journey of the mythic hero is a “labor not of attainment but of reattainment, not discovery but of rediscovery.”¹⁰

As soon as Chactas leaves the protection of his adopted father he is captured by hostile Indians and condemned to die by being burned at the stake. While in their camp, however, the women of the tribe display a great interest in Chactas and he addresses an elegy to them, saying in part “vous savez de paroles magiques qui endorment toutes les douleurs” (pp. 48-49). From this point on, the themes of women and maternity are strongly in evidence in the story. In fact, it might be argued that the feminine and maternal dominate all other aspects. Indeed, Chactas' relationship and reactions to this overwhelming feminine presence must be examined closely for they are one of the major sources of action.

Chactas speaks of virgins as “mysterious flowers found in lonely places” (p. 49), and his meeting with one shortly thereafter is a crucial event. The Indians' camp is located at the edge of a forest, a particularly propitious setting for a mysterious night visitor. Night or darkness, which is generally symbolic of the passive feminine principle, is a quality associated symbolically with the unconscious itself.¹¹ The same values are found in association with the image of the forest, another common symbolic manifestation of the feminine principle that, by extension, is identified with the unconscious.

When Atala appears to Chactas it is important to note the precise conditions and setting of her visit. She is said to be “une femme à demi voilée” (p. 49). This suggests that her true nature is to be only partially known or half suspected by Chactas. She appears to him only in the evenings (p. 51) and is thus associated closely with the night and darkness. As we shall see, night is one of the basic symbolic attributes of the figure represented by Atala. The subsequent imagery reinforces the idea that Chactas is now dealing with the mysterious forces of the unconscious. He is tied to a tree near an artesian well (puits naturel, fontaine [pp. 52, 53]). Such a well is not the product of man's labor but of nature's. Here the well symbolizes the unconscious,¹² in addition to being an attribute of the feminine principle in its quality of being a source or beginning. The proximity of water has a special importance here also. Jung says that the maternal significance of water is one of the clearest interpretations of symbols in the whole field of mythology.¹³ It is also, he says, the commonest symbol for the unconscious.¹⁴ In Campbell's scheme the first event of the Departure is the “Call to Adventure”: “The familiar life horizon has been outgrown; the old concepts, ideals and emotional patterns no longer fit; the time for the passing of a threshold is at hand” (p. 51). The typical setting in which the hero receives the call contains—again according to Campbell (p. 51)—a dark forest, a great tree, and a babbling spring. While the herald often appears as some sort of frightening or loathsome monster, as is usually found in fairy tales (e. g., the frog who turns into a prince), this “carrier of the power of destiny” may also be a “veiled mysterious figure” (p. 53) as is the case in Atala. Almost as if in compliance with Campbell's findings, however, Chateaubriand places a monster of sorts, in the form of a crocodile, in the waters of the spring (p. 53).

The Call itself comes in these words: “Guerrier, vous êtes retenu bien faiblement; vous pouvez aisément vous échapper” (p. 53). When Chactas is unable to act and barely even to speak, Atala herself unties him from the tree. In gratitude and demonstrating his bond to the powerful Anima figure, Chactas gives her the rope that bound him, which he now calls a chain, and forces her to hold it. Atala is the “supernatural aid” which Campbell finds to be an integral part of the beginning of the hero's journey (pp. 69ff.). Chactas now sees himself as an outcast. He is without a country and bound to Atala. He speaks of his desire to hide with her in the shelter of the forest. He has harkened to the call to adventure but is not yet ready to proceed to the next stage of his journey.

As they wander in the dark forest Chactas reflects on his situation. He has forsaken all that once distinguished him as an individual (Mon pays, ma mère, ma cabane, [p. 57]) and has exposed himself to unknown dangers in order to be free. Under Atala's influence he has lost the ability to attain the “raison de l'homme” (p. 57) and has become almost a child: “J'aurais eu presque besoin qu'on s'occupât de mon sommeil et de ma nourriture!” (p. 57). Here is yet another indication that this is indeed a return to his beginnings, to a state of infantile dependency characterized by the absence of the intellectual powers that distinguished the mature, adult mind.

Atala tries to convince Chactas to proceed on his own, but he is unable and returns of his own volition to captivity. However, the forces of the unconscious must be heeded and Atala does not give in so easily. She appears again in the middle of the next night. Once more she leads him into the forest to convince him of the necessity to flee of his own accord. This time Chactas witnesses two scenes that are said to be “dangerous” for them both and seem to have the effect of convincing Chactas to take the final step and cross the threshold into the unknown awaiting him. Before describing the scenes, however, Chactas speaks of the setting attendant to these events, apparently propitious to the crucial decision to leave. The night was “delicious” and smelled of pine and amber. The latter odor was “exhaled” by the familiar crocodiles of the forest. The moon shone brightly in a blue sky covering the forest with a pearl-gray light. The forest itself was only vaguely seen and completely silent except for a “distant harmony” (p. 58).

The first of the two scenes is that of a young warrior who sings a love song. He is compared to the Génie du printemps (p. 59) and indeed his song speaks of love, passion, fecundity, and birth; in short, the creative process of nature. Special emphasis is put upon the procreative aspects of the theme. The second scene stresses maternity and childhood. Young women, newly married, pass by the tomb of a child hoping to take its soul into themselves and thereby bear a child themselves. The child's mother speaks of its good fortune at not having grown to maturity: “Heureux ceux qui meurent au berceau, ils n'ont connu que les baisers et les sourires d'une mère” (p. 62). The “images of love and maternity” (p. 62) affect Atala and Chactas so strongly that they seem to be chased by them into the “enchanted forest” (ces solitudes enchantées [p. 62]). It is interesting to note here that Jung finds the word “magical” to be in fact a synonym for “psychic.”¹⁵ In the present case a Jungian interpretation would suggest that the solitudes enchantées into which Chactas is about to enter are in reality an image of the depths of his own unconscious mind.

All that has taken place to this point seems to have a numinous quality about it. For example, the forest air itself is said to be a spirit (p. 59). Apparently the content of the two scenes is quite powerful. For in addition to feeling pursued by the thought of it, the variant to this passage found in the Letessier edition says that Chactas felt these images were destined to “confound” him (p. 341), i. e., to make him lose his reason, as he felt was happening when he first attempted to flee with Atala into the forest (p. 57).

Now the definitive move is finally made and Chactas carries Atala off into the depths of the forest (p. 62). Immediately Chactas experiences the effects of being in that mysterious realm. He speaks to Atala of things no longer within his power to recall when later he is recounting these events to the narrator (p. 63). In other words, upon returning to the place of origin, which the depths of the forest represent, he was able to speak a “forgotten language,” to know and speak of things that have since receded into his unconscious.

Now takes place an event which, although it may seem innocuous on the surface, is significant for indicating the stage of the journey. Atala, we are told, kneeling “devant un vieux pin tombé, comme au pied d'un autel, offrait à son Dieux des vœux pour un amant idolâtre!” (p. 63). It appears then that the two young Indians have entered a sort of temple. The event in Campbell's terms (p. 90) is that stage of the hero's journey corresponding to the passage of the magical threshold. The hero disappears to the outside world and this disappearance “corresponds to the passing of a worshipper into a temple […]. The temple interior, the belly of the whale and the heavenly land beyond, above, and below the confines of the world, are one and the same” (pp. 91-92). Even the “threshold guardians” of the myth mentioned by Campbell are present in the tale in the form of the Indians who capture Atala and Chactas. It is the duty of such guardians to “ward away all incapable of encountering the higher silences within” (p. 92).

It is worth noting here that Atala prays to God, but with “ses yeux levés vers l'astre de la nuit” (p. 63). Her deity then is a power whose attendant symbol is the moon. The importance of the moon becomes very evident. Chactas finds that when Atala is in this prayerful attitude before the moon she is “d'une beauté immortelle” (p. 63). Her close relationship with the moon is seen also in Chactas' observation that the moon beams descending on her appear to bring with them “ces Génies que le Dieu des Chrétiens envoie aux ermites des rochers, lorsqu'il se dispose à les rappeler à lui” (p. 64). Indeed, Chactas has said just before this that it seemed that Atala was about to take flight into the skies (p. 63), i. e., to be taken up into the moon.

In any case, this first effort to cross the threshold has been unsuccessful for the pair is recaptured by the “guardians,” and Chactas is prepared for sacrifice. Now the Indians demand his death (p. 72). The place of the sacrifice is to be among the ruins of “un de ces monuments dont on ignore l'origine, et qui sont l'ouvrage d'un peuple maintenant inconnu” (p. 73). The great age and mystery surrounding the nature and origin of the ruins are qualities relating it to other manifestations of the unconscious. This is perhaps another “temple” whose significance has been mentioned.

The second attempt to cross the threshold occurs in circumstances similar to those of the first and the themes of maternity and the moon are associated once more. The scenario begins at the hour when an Indian woman awakens to feed her newborn child. Chactas has his eyes fixed on the sky where he watches the moon and thinks of Atala. The close relationship between Atala and the moon becomes all the more evident when the hero, dreaming that his chains were being removed, reports that “aà la clarté de la lune, dont un rayon s'échappait entre deux nuages, j'entrevois une grande figure blanche penchée sur moi, et occupée à dénouer silencieusement mes liens” (p. 75). The psychological implications of untying his bonds need hardly be commented upon. There is also a suggestion that Atala is the “spirit of the ruins” (p. 76) and Chactas even calls her a divinity. It is she who is entirely responsible for his escape. Now their lives are linked. Each has risked his life for the other. Atala tells Chactas that “le sacrifice sera réciproque” (p. 77). As they begin their journey the route of their escape is toward the Pole Star but they soon become lost and wander à l'aventure (p. 78).

Now begins the second major stage in the adventure of the hero, the Initiation, which Mircea Eliade says begins everywhere “with the separation of the neophyte from his family and a ‘retreat’ into the forest.”¹⁶ Campbell finds that “once having transversed the threshold, the hero moves in a dream landscape of curiously fluid, ambiguous forms, where he must survive a succession of trials” (p. 97). As they proceed into the wilderness, living off the bounty of nature, Atala grows progressively sadder. Her feelings of impending death whenever she touches Chactas suggest that the closer the two entities they represent are to fusion, the closer Atala is to losing her identity. But she also says she will never be Chactas' wife (p. 82), giving the first indication that this “Hero's Journey” will be an unsuccessful one.

Atala is un être incompréhensible (p. 82) for Chactas because of the contradictory tendencies he sees in her. However, it is this mysterious creature who, as a mother might, provides for his needs in the wilderness, supplies him with food and clothing, and even gives him advice for making a canoe in which to continue their journey. They embark on a river, abandoning themselves to the flow of its waters. This passive relinquishing of control over their course may be viewed as symbolic of their surrender to the forces of nature. The voyage on the river is also a sort of “road of trials”¹⁷ for the pair. Atala suffers greatly from the presence of her loved one and her resolution to be true to the vows made to her mother are strongly tested: “les forces d'Atala commençaient à l'abandonner, et les passions, en abattant son corps, allaient triompher de sa vertu” (p. 86). The torment is so severe that Atala hears a voice and sees flames shooting out of the earth (p. 86). The wilderness, nature herself, is now linked directly with the unleashing of the passions. This is one source of their trials, as is the fear of being recaptured, being bitten by serpents or eaten by wild animals. The latter may be viewed as manifestations of the powers of the unconscious in their negative aspect. Until they have conquered these forces or at least come to terms with them, there will be no way out of the situation.

Then, twenty-seven days later (very close to one lunar month), they reach a crucial point in their journey. They take shelter from an approaching storm in the forest, which is said to be “as old as the world.” This is a fitting qualification for a symbol of the unconscious. The area in which they disembark is swampy and full of entangling vines. They are constantly in danger of being “engulfed” by the spongy ground and the ground seems to be alive: “le sol humide murmurait autour de nous” (p. 88; Var. B, p. 345). All of this is an indication of the fearful powers of the unconscious that threaten to overwhelm the two adventurers.¹⁸

The storm intensifies and the scene it produces seems full of the fires of Hades itself. The lightning is foremost in Chactas' thoughts and perhaps for good reason. Eliade believes that lightning in such cases is related to rites of purification for initiates and also has some sexual implications.¹⁹ Both meanings could easily apply here. In the midst of all the chaotic activity of the storm Chactas thinks only of Atala. As he cares for her, his feelings of happiness are expressed in terms of motherhood, already a familiar theme: “j'étais plus heureux que la nouvelle épouse qui sent pour la première fois son fruit tressaillir dans son sein” (p. 90). When Chactas says he feels the expectancy of new life forming within him, he is expressing the imminent birth of a new “self,” a new self that is to come from his union with Atala, uniting Animus and Anima. This union is the marriage of which Campbell speaks in the hero's meeting with the goddess: “the ultimate adventure, when all the barriers and ogres have been overcome, is commonly represented as a mystical marriage (hieros gamos) of the triumphant hero-soul with the Queen Goddess of the World” (p. 109). It marks as well, in Chateaubriand's story, the end of the period of trials. Unfortunately, however, Chactas is unable to progress past this point. He does not attain his atonement with the father—apotheosis—nor the final triumphant return described by Campbell for reasons to be seen below.

When Atala tells Chactas the story of her life and he learns her father was Lopez, the same man who was his own adopted father, they are nearly overcome with emotion because of “cette amitié fraternelle qui venait nous visiter, et joindre son amour à notre amour” (p. 92). Their relationship is made all the closer; first lovers, now brother and sister, and finally Chactas speaks of Atala as his wife (p. 93). Jung says that such a marriage with the Anima (Atala in this case) “is the psychological equivalent of absolute identity between the conscious and the unconscious. But since such a condition is possible only in the complete absence of psychological self-knowledge, it must be more or less primitive, i. e., the man's relationship to the woman is essentially an anima projection. The only sign that the whole thing is unconscious is that the carrier of the anima-image is distinguished by magical characteristics.”²⁰

The potential incestuous union of brother and sister suggested here is, in fact, symbolic of Chactas' imminent discovery of the “self” for, as Jung says, “incest symbolizes union with one's own being, it means individuation, becoming a self.”²¹ Chactas then takes Atala in his arms and is at the “moment of happiness.” Suddenly, however, Chactas is interrupted in his amorous pursuits by a resounding clap of thunder and an “impetuous” bolt of lightning that fills the forest with light. Besides the sexual connotations of lightning mentioned by Freud and Jung,²² it can signify a “sudden, unexpected and overpowering change in psychic condition”²³ or “the manifestation of God descending into the world.”²⁴ It can even be a manifestation of the moon's powers “for its brightness recalls that of the moon and it heralds rain, which is governed by the moon.”²⁵ All of these interpretations would seem to be relevant to some degree in the present case.

Frightened by the lightning, the couple flee and are soon met by Père Aubry who takes them to his cave, located on the side of a mountain. The description here is distinctly symbolic. The party enters through a tangle of wet ivy and squash vines that have been dislodged by the rainstorm. On a psychological level vines of any sort represent “the unconscious, the forgotten, the past”²⁶ and are generally a motif of the mother-symbol.²⁷ What is more, we find another attribute of the Great Mother in the serpent familier (p. 99) inhabiting the cave.²⁸ The mountain itself has considerable importance in a symbolic sense for our story since it represents the goal of a quest.²⁹ The wanderings of the hero and heroine culminate when they climb the mountain, i.e., transcend their former, lesser state. The hermit's cave would appear to be a central image in this part of the story as well. In mythology, a cave is seen to be symbolic of an entrance to the underworld, the “throne, seat, dwelling place and incarnation of the Great Mother.”³⁰ Atala, it will be noted, weakens even more as they enter the cave of Père Aubry.

After a tour of Père Aubry's domain, Chactas returns to the cave to find that Atala does not run to greet him as usual and he is filled with dread at this. Even more frightening to him was “la nuit qui régnait à l'entrée du rocher” (p. 114). In a variant to this passage he says to Aubry: “pénétrez dans ces ombres, et rendez-moi Atala” (p. 350). His fear of entering the darkness of the cave and the implication that she has somehow been taken away from him would indicate that Atala is slipping away back into the shadowy underworld of the unconscious. In true Orphic fashion, Chactas plunges into the night of the cave and finds Atala near death. At this point she recounts the story of her vow to her mother. Atala's mother vowed to consecrate her daughter's virginity to the Queen of Angels, if the child was allowed to live after her difficult birth (pp. 116-117). But this Atala finds to be a “vœu fatal qui me précipite au tombeau” (p. 117). Here we have the obstacle that will prevent Chactas from becoming a complete and successful hero. Atala, who is now seen as the “captive maiden”—not unlike the “damsel in distress” of knightly dramas—must be released from the hold of the unconscious, the power symbolized by her receding into the dark night of the cave. Without Atala's liberation and their subsequent marriage, Chactas can never realize psychic wholeness.³¹ Breaking the vow to the Queen of Angels, i.e., the Great Mother, would be for Atala the equivalent of leaving the forest with which she has been so closely identified throughout the story. It has the effect of weakening her vital forces. The closer she comes to union with Chactas and to separation from her original state of purity the weaker she becomes. The closest she comes to this is symbolized by their ascending the mountain towards the heavens, representing the opposite of everything with which Atala has been linked through the imagery used so far. That her original state of virginal purity was about to be lost has been underscored consistently through the use of maternal imagery. Most specifically this impending fusion of Anima and Animus in the form of Atala and Chactas was expressed in terms of the latter's sensation of a new life within him, just like a woman's, when she has conceived. Now, however, it is clear there will be no union of the two. Atala has taken refuge in the Church, itself a mother-image and symbolic of the unconscious.³²

Atala speaks to Chactas of the double attractions she has felt: urging him to leave even though she is certain to die if they are separated; fearful of fleeing with him into the wilderness yet longing for the shadows of the forest (p. 121). In the first instance she, as anima, says that she would cease to exist for Chactas as a discrete entity, if they should not achieve the psychic integration that is the goal of the quest. In the second instance, Atala expresses fear of being absorbed into the unconscious yet longing for just such a return to its comforting shadows. The terms in which Atala expresses her imminent death also speak of her being “engulfed” or “devoured,” as the individual ego would be by its submersion into the unconscious: “à présent que l'éternité va m'engloutir” and “je vois avec joie ma virginité dévorer ma vie” (p. 123).

As the poison Atala has taken continues to take effect, Chactas is overcome by grief. After a lengthy discourse by Aubry on religious duty and the vanity of life, Chactas says that the priest seemed to lead Atala into the tomb to show her its secret marvels (p. 136). This is yet another indication of Aubry's close relationship to the unconscious. The tomb is symbolic not only of the eternal and feminine and of transformation in general but of the unconscious as well.³³ Jung says in fact that “the mother archetype in its negative aspect may connote anything secret, hidden, dark; the abyss, the world of the dead, anything that devours, seduces, and poisons, that is terrifying and inescapable like fate.”³⁴

Atala dies and is buried by Chactas and Aubry under a natural bridge at the entrance to the Indian cemetery which appeared earlier as a temple of death (p. 107) in the forest. This symbolic return to the unconscious manifests itself again in Chactas' description of Atala's tomb at night: “la lune prêta son pâle flambeau à cette veillée funèbre. Elle se leva au milieu de la nuit, comme une blanche vestale qui vient pleurer sur le cercueil d'une compagne” (p. 144). The intimate relationship between Atala, the night, and the moon is evident once more. Carrying Atala's body, Aubry and Chactas descend the mountain. They are led by the same dog that led the young couple out of the forest earlier. Now the dog joyfully leads them to the cemetery (p. 146). The dog is one of the animals commonly associated with the moon³⁵ and hence the Great Mother archetype itself.

Chactas and Aubry carry Atala beneath the arch of the natural bridge at the entrance of the Indian cemetery. The bridge indicates that they are at a place where two realms meet; it is the point of transition between the world of the unconscious (the cemetery and the dark forest surrounding it) and the world of consciousness (the mountain and the ascent of the mountain towards the heavens where God resides). Although Chactas wishes to remain here with Aubry at the entrance to the underworld and the unconscious, Aubry will not allow it now that Atala is dead.

When Chactas bemoans the fate of man who can never find happiness, the same image is used as was used earlier when he was about to enter into the realm of the unconscious on his road of trials (p. 52). Here again appears the image of a deep natural well whose surface is calm but in whose depths lives a crocodile. In both cases we can see an intimation of the potentially disruptive and dangerous powers of the unconscious.

In the epilogue of the story we encounter a scene that recalls earlier images of maternity, newborn infants, and death. There is a parallel here with the events of the story Chactas has told. Chactas, like the Indian mother, is in exile and searching for his homeland. Each has lost part of himself to death. This woman is the granddaughter of René, the European to whom the story of Atala was told and who was adopted by Chactas. She tells the narrator of Chactas' return to gather the ashes of Atala and Père Aubry after their deaths.

Chactas found everything changed and deteriorated. The cave of the priest was overgrown with vegetation and in it was a doe suckling its fawn (p. 163), yet another image of maternity. In the cave where Atala died is new life, but it is animal life, not human. While resting there Chactas believes he sees the ghosts (ombres) of Atala and Aubry arise in the mist of evening twilight. The variant to this passage is particularly interesting. It says, in part, “Quand on approchait de ces fantômes, ils s'enfonçaient dans la forêt et s'évanouissaient entre les arbres” (p. 357). The numinous forces of the unconscious, which appeared earlier to the hero in the forms of Atala and Père Aubry, are encountered once again. Because of his inability to integrate them successfully into his being, however, they are now experienced in greatly attenuated form, appearing only as dimly seen apparitions, ghosts shrouded in the misty half-light of partial awareness. Now, as Chactas searches unsuccessfully for the graves of Atala and Aubry, the doe runs out in front of him and stops at the foot of the Mission's cross. Chactas realizes the doe has led him to the graves. Here he does, indeed, find the buried remains of his “sister” and the hermit. Now the action of Chactas' tale ends as he takes away with him the remains of the priest and the virgin. All that is left is the narrator's reflection on the plight he finds himself in. Like the Indians, he is in exile and condemned to wander forever.

In spite of Chateaubriand's expressed intent in writing the story, it seems clear that religion is not the answer, at least so far as the events of this tale are concerned. Lowrie notes that “the claims of religion which serve as a basis of Le Génie and the possibility of religion's serving as Kingdom in Atala are surreptitiously undercut on two accounts: the religious rites are ultimately annihilated, and virtue is thought of with regret” (p. 761). This is not surprising in view of the archetypes as we have examined them. It should be added that the annihilation of religious rites, indeed of all vestiges of religion, comes about by the encroachment of primitive nature which reclaims its hold on the settlement of the priest. Religion is presented as a denial. What is needed is acceptance and integration of the opposing forces. In fact, it is very important to note that there is no imagery in this story suggestive of wholeness, of completion of the final stage of individuation. Such imagery is that of the “Self” and often appears as a coincidentia oppositorum, the quaternity, a mandala, or the Center.³⁶ Chateaubriand's hero is an unsuccessful one, then. Neumann notes in this regard that “the nonliberation of the captive expresses itself in the continued dominance of the Great Mother under her deadly aspect, and the final result is alienation from the body and from the earth, hatred of life and world negation.”³⁷ The fate of Chactas as well as that of the narrator of the tale as exiles and particularly the narrator's attitude as seen in the Epilogue seem to bear out this interpretation. Even Chateaubriand's other famous short story, René, appears to illustrate this view.

The use of concepts provided by Jung's psychological theories and the field of mythology as analytical tools in the study of the imagery and structure of Atala affords a new interpretation of the story's significance. We can see that the work has meaning at more than one level and that the author's purpose in writing it may have had little to do with the results of his labor. When the story is considered in the larger context of Chateaubriand's work and life, the implications it carries about his psychology are very interesting. It is admittedly tempting to draw inferences from a study of this sort. In any case, the figures of Atala and Chactas are taken to represent the two opposing yet complementary forces of a single psyche, whosoever it might be. This being is one who—at least at the time the story was written—was seemingly to be forever afflicted by the torment of his inability to come to terms with the forces of his inner world. He remains exiled from a part of himself in a frightening wilderness of psychological immaturity, prey to fearful ogres spawned by the unresolved conflicts within his unconscious mind.

Notes

1. Atala, René, Les Aventures du Dernier Abencérage, ed. Fernand Letessier (Paris: Garnier, 1962), p. 151. All parenthetical page references are to this edition.

2. Dennis J. Spininger, “The Paradise Setting of Chateaubriand's Atala,” PMLA [Publications of the Modern Language Association], 89:3 (May, 1974), 530-536.

3. Joyce O. Lowrie, “Motifs of Kingdom and Exile in Atala,” FR [The French Review], 43:5 (April, 1970), 755-764.

4. Erich Neumann, The Origins and History of Consciousness (New York: The Bollingen Foundation, 1954), p. 127.

5. Joseph Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces (Princeton, N. J.: Princeton University Press, 1949), p. 30.

6. Campbell, p. 30.

7. Campbell, p. 246.

8. Neumann, p. 177.

9. See Campbell, p. 342.

10. Campbell, p. 39.

11. See Neumann, pp. 42 and 125.

12. Campbell, p. 74n.

13. Carl G. Jung, The Collected Works of C. G. Jung, Vol. V: Symbols of Transformation (Princeton, N. J.: Princeton University Press, 1956), p. 218.

14. Jung, Works, Vol. IX, 1: The Archetypes of the Collective Unconscious (Princeton, N. J.: Princeton University Press, 1969), p. 16.

15. Jung, Works, Vol. VII: Two Essays on Analytical Psychology (Princeton, N. J.: Princeton University Press, 1966), p. 185.

16. Mircea Eliade, Myths, Dreams and Mysteries (New York: Harper and Row, 1960), p. 197.

17. Campbell, pp. 97ff.

18. See Erich Neumann, The Great Mother: An Analysis of the Archetype (Princeton, N. J.: The Bollingen Foundation, 1963), pp. 51-52.

19. Mircea Eliade, Rites and Symbols of Initiation: The Mysteries of Birth and Rebirth (New York: Harper and Row, 1958), p. 17.

20. Jung, Works, Vol. XVI: The Psychology of the Transference (Princeton, N. J.: Princeton University Press, 1966), p. 63.

21. Jung, Works, XVI, p. 56.

22. Jung, Works, V, p. 277.

23. Jung, Works, IX, 1, p. 295.

24. Jung, Works, IX, 1, p. 295n, quoting Lactanius.

25. Mircea Eliade, Patterns in Comparative Religion (New York: New American Library, 1958), p. 157.

26. Juan E. Cirlot, A Dictionary of Symbols (New York: Philosophical Library, 1962), p. 93.

27. Jung, Works, V, p. 247.

28. See Jung, Works, V, p. 350.

29. Carl G. Jung, Psyche and Symbol (Garden City, N. Y.: Doubleday and Co., 1958), p. 74n.

30. Neumann, Great Mother, p. 260.

31. See Neumann, Origins, p. 213.

32. Jung, Works, IX, 1, p. 26 and V, p. 213.

33. See Jung, Works, IX, 1, p. 82.

34. Jung, Works, IX, 1, p. 82.

35. Eliade, Patterns, p. 164.

36. Jung, Works, VII, pp. 215ff.

37. Neumann, Origins, p. 206.