SOURCE: Segal, Robert A. “Campbell as a Jungian.” In Joseph Campbell: An Introduction, pp. 125-35. New York: Garland Publishing, 1987.

[In the following essay, Segal discusses whether or not Campbell could accurately be called a Jungian.]

Joseph Campbell is often labeled a Jungian.¹ He is certainly not a Jungian analyst and has undergone no Jungian analysis. If he is a Jungian, it is because he shares Jung's view of myth.

Campbell does cite Jung approvingly throughout his writings, far more often than he cites any other theorist of myth. Again and again, he favorably contrasts Jung's understanding of myth to that of not only nonpsychologists—for example, those who read myth literally—but, most conspicuously, Freud. He contrasts Jung's appreciation of the higher, adult meaning of myth to Freud's dismissive reduction of it to its childhood, sexual origins:

Myths, according to Freud's view, are of the psychological order of dream. … Both, in his opinion, are symptomatic of repressions of infantile incest wishes. … Civilization itself, in fact, is a pathological surrogate for unconscious infantile disappointments. And thus Freud … judged the worlds of myth, magic, and religion negatively, as errors to be refuted, surpassed, and supplanted finally by science. An altogether different approach is represented by Carl G. Jung, in whose view the imageries of mythology and religion serve positive, life-furthering ends. … [Myths] are telling us in picture language of powers of the psyche to be recognized and integrated in our lives. … Thus they have not been, and can never be, displaced by the findings of science, which relate rather to the outside world than to the depths that we enter in sleep. Through a dialogue conducted with these inward forces through our dreams and through a study of myths, we can learn to know and come to terms with the greater horizon of our own deeper and wiser, inward self.

(1973: 12-13)²

More practically, Campbell has edited The Portable Jung and the six-volume selection from the Eranos-Jahrbücher, which, while not always Jungian, is always Jungian in “spirit.” Several volumes of his own works appear in the Bollingen Series, which is likewise Jungian in spirit. Indeed, two of Campbell's works constitute the first and the last entries in the Series. In addition, Campbell has edited various other Bollingen volumes. Furthermore, he has been both a fellow and a trustee of the Bollingen Foundation.³

But is Campbell therefore a Jungian? He never calls himself one. He praises Jung rather than defers to him. At most, he says that Jung has come closest to grasping the true meaning of myth. For example, having given his own interpretation of myths as the expression of universal archetypes, he says, “The psychologist who has best dealt with these [archetypes], best described and best interpreted them, is Carl G. Jung …” (1973:216). If Campbell is truly a Jungian or even a kindred soul, he must surely share Jung's view of at least the origin and function of myth.

JUNG'S VIEW OF THE ORIGIN OF MYTH

The term “Jungian” often gets used loosely. Merely to be interested in myth is not to be Jungian. Innumerable non-Jungians are no less interested in it. Merely to deem myth important is, for the same reason, insufficient. Even to find similarities in myths is not enough. By definition all theorists of myth, as comparativists, do.

What is distinctively Jungian is above all the explanation of the similarities. There are two possible explanations: diffusion and independent invention. Diffusion means that myth originates in a single society and spreads elsewhere from it. Independent invention means that every society invents myth on its own.

Neither explanation assumes that the myths of any two societies are identical, only that they are similar enough to dictate a common cause. To be sure, diffusionists often argue that the similarities they find are too striking to be the product of independent invention.⁴ But even they grant that the myths of no two societies are identical. Diffusionists and independent “inventionists” alike seek only to account for the similarities, not to deny any differences.

If the prime argument of diffusionists is that the similarities are too precise to have arisen independently, the prime argument of independent “inventionists” is that diffusion, even when granted, fails to explain either the origin of myth in the society from which it spreads or the acceptance of myth by the societies to which it spreads.⁵

To attribute the similarities in myths to independent invention rather than diffusion is not distinctively Jungian. Edward Tylor, James Frazer, and Freud, among others, do so as well. What is distinctively Jungian is the form independent invention takes. Here, too, there are two possibilities: experience and heredity. Independent invention as experience means that every society creates myth for itself. Independent invention as heredity means that every society inherits myth.

Independent invention as experience does not mean that every member of a society creates myth. Every member may well have the experiences that lead to its creation, but only a few members actually create it.

Independent invention as heredity means that every member of society not simply has the experiences that lead some members to create myth but, far more, has myth itself: every member is born with it. More accurately, every member is born with the elements that constitute the main content of myths: the similarities among myths that Jung calls archetypes. Here, too, only certain members of society create actual myths, but what they do is far more limited: they turn innately archetypal material into specific myths—for example, turning the archetype of the hero into the myth of Odysseus.

Tylor, Frazer, and Freud ascribe independent invention to experience. Jung is distinctive in ascribing it to heredity.

For Tylor,⁶ everyone is born with a need to explain the world, but the explanations themselves are not innate. Everyone in primitive society, which alone has myth, doubtless experiences the same baffling phenomena that eventually lead to the creation of myths: the lifelessness of the body at death and the appearance of others in dreams. Every primitive likely seeks to explain these phenomena as well. But only a few postulate souls and then gods to explain them and finally spin myths to explain the actions of those gods. Because all primitives, for Tylor, experience the same perplexing phenomena, and because all primitive societies postulate gods to account for them, myths are bound to be similar. But each primitive society invents gods and myths on its own, in response to the similar experiences of its members.

For Frazer,⁷ who is Campbell's grandest exemplar of independent invention through experience, everyone is born with a need not to explain the world but, more practically, to eat. No doubt everyone in society experiences hunger, but only the brightest members react by inventing first magic and then religion to explain how the world works and thereby how to secure food. There are no myths in the first, magical stage, which postulates mechanical, impersonal forces. Myth arises only in the next, religious stage, which postulates gods instead. On its own every society invents first magic and then religion. Every society invents its myths as part of its religion. As with Tylor, so with Frazer: similar causes are bound to yield similar effects, so that gods and therefore myths are bound to prove similar worldwide. Frazer puts the point in a line that Campbell repeatedly invokes as the clearest statement of independent invention through experience:

… the resemblance which may be traced in this respect between the religions of the East and West is no more than what we commonly, though incorrectly, call a fortuitous coincidence, the effect of similar causes acting alike on the similar constitution of the human mind in different countries and under different skies.⁸

For Freud,⁹ everyone is born with an incestuous drive that surfaces at age three to five. Everyone experiences that drive for himself. From his ancestors he inherits only the drive itself, not their experience of it. Everyone in society also experiences frustration in trying to satisfy that drive. Some members of every society invent myth as an indirect, disguised, compensatory outlet for the blocked drive, which dare not be vented directly or overtly. Again, similar experiences are bound to give rise to, in this case, similar heroes and thereby similar myths. Hence Rank contends that all hero myths, if not all myths per se,¹⁰ conform to the same pattern, one invented by each society on its own.

Like Tylor, Frazer, and Freud, Jung attributes the similarities in myths to independent invention. But unlike them he attributes independent invention to heredity rather than experience. He claims that everyone is born not just with a need of some kind that the invention of myth fulfills but with the myths, or the contents of myths, themselves. More precisely, everyone is born with the contents of myths already elevated to the level of myth.

For Tylor, for example, the true content, or subject, of myth is the physical world. Mythmakers transform the impersonal forces of the physical world into gods and the behavior of those gods into stories. For Frazer, the same is true. For Freud, as represented by Rank, the true subject of myth is a child and his parents. Mythmakers transform the child into a hero, his parents into royalty or nobility, and their conflicts into stories.

For Jung, by contrast, the true subject of myth is the archetypes themselves of heroes and their adventures. The archetypes of the hero and his journey do not symbolize something else in turn. They are the symbolized. Because the archetypal level is the same as the mythic one, the mythic level is not invented but inherited. Everyone inherits the same archetypes, which together comprise what Jung calls the collective unconscious. In every society a few persons invent specific stories to express those archetypes, but mythmakers here are inventing only the manifestations of already mythic material. Odysseus, for example, gets either invented or appropriated to serve as a Greek expression of the hero archetype. Heroism itself is not invented, the way it is for Tylor, Frazer, and Freud. Only actual myths expressing it are.

For Tylor, Frazer, and Freud, experience, even if it is of innate needs, provides the impetus for the creation of myth. For Freud, for example, one's experience of his parents' reaction to his incestuous drives spurs the creation of myth. For Jung, by contrast, experience provides only an occasion for the expression of pre-existent archetypes. Archetypes shape experience rather than, as for Freud and the others, derive from it. The archetype of the Great Mother does not, as for Freud, result from the magnification of one's own mother but on the contrary expresses itself through her and thereby shapes one's experience of her.¹¹

For Jung, as for Tylor, Frazer, and Freud, the differences among myths get transmitted by acculturation. But where for Tylor, Frazer, and Freud the similarities do not get transmitted at all—they are the product of the similar experiences of each society—for Jung they get transmitted by heredity. Again, the distinctiveness of Jung's explanation of the similarities in myth is not that he attributes them to independent invention rather than diffusion but that he attributes independent invention to heredity rather than experience.¹²

Independent “inventionists” of both varieties do allow for some borrowing among societies and therefore for some diffusion. They simply deny that diffusion can account for most of the similarities among myths—above all among societies too far removed from one another for any contact to have occurred. Thus Jung says:

Although tradition and transmission by migration certainly play a part, there are … very many cases that cannot be accounted for in this way and drive us to the hypothesis of “autochthonous [i.e., independent] revival.” These cases are so numerous that we are obliged to assume the existence of a collective psychic substratum. I have called this the collective unconscious.¹³

The additional standard argument against diffusion, also given by Jung, is that even if diffusion can explain how contact takes place, it cannot explain how contact takes hold and remains:

Now if the myth were nothing but an historical remnant [i.e., of diffusion], one would have to ask why it has not long since vanished into the great rubbish-heap of the past, and why it continues to make its influence felt on the highest levels of civilization. …¹⁴

To maintain his distinction between archetypes, which are what get inherited, and their symbolic expressions, which get created by every society, Jung could say that independent invention accounts for the similarities in archetypes and diffusion for any similarities in symbols. Exactly because symbols are ordinarily the creation of each society, they usually differ from society to society—a Greek hero like Odysseus differing from a Roman one like Aeneas. Jung could therefore attribute to diffusion any similarities among specific heroes—for example, the obvious influence of Homer's idea of heroism on Vergil. But in fact he attributes to similar independent experiences similarities within classes of symbols—for example, symbols of the cross—and attributes to diffusion only similarities in details—symbols of specific kinds of crosses. Still, he never ascribes similarities to heredity, which he reserves for archetypes themselves.

CAMPBELL'S VIEW OF THE ORIGIN OF MYTH

Is Campbell's explanation of the similarities in myths Jungian? In both Hero [The Hero with a Thousand Faces] and “Bios and Mythos” he attributes the similarities to the unconscious, which is a form of independent invention. Indeed, in “Bios and Mythos” he relegates diffusion to a mere secondary cause. But in neither work does he explain whether the similarities, which he calls archetypes in any case, are, as for Jung, innate or, as for Freud, implanted by experience. In Hero Campbell implies that the archetypes are innate, but he never outright says so.

Campbell is less Jungian in Masks [The Masks of God] than in any other work except his Róheim essay. On the one hand he is so intent on tracing cultural influences that he might well seem to be attributing the similarities to diffusion rather than to independent invention of either kind—experience or heredity. The possibility that he is attributing to diffusion only similarities in symbols and is thereby allowing for independent invention for archetypes does not seem to hold: the similarities he discusses are so general as seemingly to constitute archetypes themselves rather than mere symbols.

On the other hand even if Campbell means to be attributing to diffusion symbols alone, the independent invention to which he would be attributing archetypes themselves is experience, not, as for Jung, heredity. To be sure, Campbell might here seem no different from early Jung, but for even early Jung the impact of the experiences of prehistoric man itself gets inherited. For Campbell, nothing does. Each generation creates archetypes anew out of its own experiences. It is presumably imagination which takes significant experiences and makes them mythical, or archetypal. Only the mechanisms for activating emotions and actions, the IRM's, are innate. Archetypes themselves, which activate the IRM's, are not.

How close to Jung Campbell comes in The Mythic Image depends on what Campbell means by “mythic images.” The images, he stresses, are the product of diffusion rather than heredity or experience, but he never makes clear whether these images are archetypes themselves or only symbols expressing them. If, as seems more likely, they are archetypes, then Campbell is breaking fundamentally with Jung. If, however, the images are symbols, then Campbell is compatible with Jung, though, again, Jung attributes to diffusion only similarities in details. At the outset of The Mythic Image Campbell does say that myths come from the unconscious, but again he fails to say whether its contents are inherited or acquired.

If, in the Atlas [The Historical Atlas of World Mythology], Campbell is attributing the presence in myths of the same archetypes to diffusion, then once again he is clearly far afield of Jung. But if he is attributing the presence of those archetypes not just to independent invention in general but to heredity in particular (1983:73), then he is obviously like Jung. Yet he would be closest to only early Jung since he would still be claiming that prehistoric man created, not inherited, his archetypes and simply passed them on to his progeny.

JUNG'S VIEW OF THE FUNCTION OF MYTH

To be Jungian is not merely to ascribe the origin of myths, or their contents, to heredity but also to ascribe to myths various functions. For Jung, myth serves, first, to reveal the existence of the unconscious:

Myths are original revelations of the preconscious [i.e., collective] psyche, involuntary statements about unconscious psychic happenings. … Modern psychology treats the products of unconscious fantasy-activity as self-portraits of what is going on in the unconscious, or as statements of the unconscious psyche about itself.¹⁵

One who takes myth literally thinks that it is revealing the existence of something outside him—for example, god—but even unconsciously and certainly consciously it is in fact revealing the existence of his unconscious.

Myth serves, second, to guide one in dealing with the unconscious. The lives of the characters described in myth become models to emulate:

For instance, our ancestors have done so-and-so, and so shall you do. Or such and such a hero has done so-and-so, and that is your model. For instance, in the teachings of the Catholic Church, there are several thousand saints. They serve as models, they have their legends, and that is Christian mythology.¹⁶

Myth here assures one that others have had experiences like his.

Myth serves, third, not just to tell one about the unconscious but actually to open him up to it. Because one experiences the unconscious through only its symbolic manifestations, the symbols in myth serve as a conduit for encountering the unconscious. If on the one hand myth makes sense of any prior encounters, on the other hand it itself constitutes an encounter.

CAMPBELL'S VIEW OF THE FUNCTION OF MYTH

Though in Hero Campbell is concerned far less with the function than with the meaning of myth, the functions he does implicitly attribute to myth are nearly perfectly Jungian. Myth functions, first, to reveal the existence of a severed, deeper reality, which Campbell, going beyond Jung, deems metaphysical as well as psychological. Myth functions, second, as a vehicle for actually encountering that reality. Since myth describes the hero's own rediscovery of that reality, his story functions, third, as a model for others. But where for Jung myth fulfills these functions even when its meaning remains unconscious, for Campbell myth works only when “sages” reveal its meaning.

In The Mythic Image, in which Campbell is also less concerned with the function of myth than with its meaning, myth nevertheless serves the first two of the three Jungian functions that it serves in Hero: to reveal the existence of a deeper reality, whether psychological or metaphysical, and to enable man to experience it. But Campbell here employs Kundalini yoga rather than Jungian psychology to interpret that reality.

In “Bios and Mythos” Campbell says what myth does but not how it does it. What myth does is far from Jungian. Though it helps one grow up, it ceases with the attainment of the goal of the first half of life. Going beyond the first half means going beyond myth itself, which Jung would scarcely grant. The attachment that, in the first half of life, myth helps overcome is, moreover, to one's mother herself, not, as for Jung, to the mother archetype projected onto her. Whether in any case myth helps break the attachment by, in Jungian fashion, providing a model Campbell never says.

Insofar as myths, in part one of volume one of Masks, serve to provide symbols for expressing archetypes, Campbell's view of their function parallels Jung's. But insofar as those symbols serve to activate archetypes, and in turn emotions and actions, Campbell's view is more Freudian than Jungian. For Jung, symbols in myths serve less to release archetypes than to reveal them. The payoff is not relief but understanding. Even though Campbell does not deem archetypes repressed or even unconscious, his stress on release puts him closer to Freud than to Jung. Still, his stress on myth as interpreting the archetypes it activates fits Jung's view of myth, however non-Jungian his interpretation of those archetypes would be.

Elsewhere in Masks, together with the Atlas, Campbell lists four functions that all myths serve. The first two of those functions serve to link man to the cosmos. The third serves to link him to society. The fourth serves to link him to everything, including himself.

On the one hand Jung strongly opposes the rejection of the material world, including society, for the world of the unconscious. Ever seeking a balance between the one world and the other, Jung would applaud the third function, which, either intentionally or merely coincidentally, keeps man anchored to something material. Indeed, Jung would doubtless contrast this effect to the rejection of the material world typically sought by Campbell. On the other hand Jung cares more about connecting man to the unconscious than about connecting him to the material world, with which man has ordinarily not lost contact. Since only the fourth function deals with man himself, and since even it by no means necessarily deals with the unconscious, Jung would consider the functions as a whole askew to his concerns.

OTHER DIFFERENCES BETWEEN CAMPBELL AND JUNG

Even if Campbell and Jung agreed entirely on the origin and function of myth, they would remain far apart. Campbell, first of all, deems myth indispensable. No human being can survive without it. Undeniably, Jung values myth, but he does not consider it indispensable. Other phenomena—religion, art, dream, and the active imagination—can serve as well, even if at times Jung, like Campbell, uses the term myth to encompass all of them. The functions that myth serves may themselves be indispensable, but myth is not indispensable to serving them.

For Campbell, to have a myth is to accept it wholly. It is to identify oneself with the myth—for example, with the protagonist of a hero myth or the divinity of a creation myth. It is to live out the myth.

Jung is more critical. To have a myth is valuable but limited. A myth provides entrée to a side of oneself, but to only one side. Though a single myth can contain more than one archetype, no myth contains them all. An entire mythology—for example, that of Christianity or Hinduism—can deal with the whole of one's personality, but no one myth can. One should therefore have many myths. At the same time one should identify himself with none of them. To identify oneself with a myth is to lose touch with the rest of his personality, not least his ordinary, outward consciousness. Carried to an extreme, identification causes a breakdown rather than an enlargement of personality. Jung urges man to learn from myth without abandoning himself to it. More precisely, Jung urges man to discover the range of meanings of a whole mythology before committing himself to it. Properly understood, a complete mythology does accord a place to all sides of one's personality. One should live it out, but only upon recognizing its scope.

For Campbell, myth is not only necessary for the deepest human fulfillment but sufficient. One needs nothing else, including therapy. Indeed, therapy is only for those who lack myth.

Jung considers myth neither necessary nor sufficient for human fulfillment. Whenever myth is used, it must be used with therapy, which is an indispensable supplement, not alternative, to it.

Myth, for Campbell, contains all the wisdom man needs. All he need do is learn how to interpret it. He need never venture beyond it. Moreover, myth is easy to interpret. It invariably has a single meaning, even if wise men are needed to reveal that meaning.

Jung insists that man reflect on myth, not blindly accept it. If myth can guide one through life, it can also lead one astray. If myth can help one evaluate his life, one must also use his life to evaluate it. Furthermore, myth has no single meaning but an inexhaustible array of meanings.

For Campbell, to interpret a myth is to identify the archetypes in it. To interpret the Odyssey, for example, is to classify it as a hero myth, to show how it conforms to a heroic monomyth.

Jung considers the identification of archetypes the first rather than the last step in the interpretation of a myth. One must proceed to determine the meaning of those archetypes in the specific myth in which they appear and the meaning of that myth for the specific person who is stirred by it. The meaning of the myth for him is more than its general meaning for all mankind. One must analyze the person, not just the myth, to understand its significance for him. Hence the need for therapy. Hence Jung's distinction between archetypes, which are universal, and their symbols, which vary from case to case. Hence Jung's opposition to the adoption by the West of the specific myths of the East. Hence Jung's term for the ideal psychological state: “individua-tion.” Many of Jung's disciples are no different from Campbell: they stop interpreting myth at the point of comparison, or “amplification.”¹⁷ But Jung himself does not.

For both Campbell and Jung, myth functions above all to link man to the unconscious, if also for Campbell to ultimate reality. But they differ over the final place of the unconscious. Though Campbell professes otherwise, he is in fact a mystic: he preaches absorption in the unconscious. Jung preaches balance: neither rejection of the unconscious nor surrender to it. What Campbell deems the psychological ideal Jung deems psychosis.

Notes

1. See, for example, Eric J. Sharpe: “The American scholar Joseph Campbell (b. 1907) has for many years been the major representative among students of comparative religion of the heritage of Jung. His industry has been remarkable, and he has in fact attempted a total Jungian interpretation of world mythology, particularly in the four volumes of The Masks of God …” (Comparative Religion [New York: Scribner's, 1975], 212).

2. On the difference between Freud and Jung on myth see also Campbell 1959:31-32, 64-65, 91; 1969-49; interview with Sam Keen, in Keen, Voices and Visions (New York: Harper and Row, 1974), 75-76.

3. On Campbell's involvement in both the Series and the Foundation see William McGuire, Bollingen (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University, 1982), esp. xvii, 64-66, 121, 135, 139, 141-144, 158, 173-174, 177-179, 235, 277, 286, 291, 312.

4. See Campbell's own use of this argument: see ch. 9, p. 110n22.

5. See, for example, Otto Rank's appeal to the argument that diffusion can account for only the spread, not the origin, of myth: “Furthermore, the ultimate problem is not whence and how the material reached a certain people; the question is: Where did it come from to begin with? All these [diffusionist] theories would explain only the variability and distribution of the myths, but not their origin” (“The Myth of the Birth of the Hero,” in The Myth of the Birth of the Hero and Other Writings, ed. Philip Freund [New York: Vintage, 1959], 5). By contrast, Jung argues from the reverse side: that diffusion cannot account for the acceptance of myth in other places. See below, p. 129.

6. See Edward B. Tylor, Primitive Culture, fifth ed. (New York: Harper Torchbooks, 1958), II (retitled Religion in Primitive Culture), esp. ch. 11.

7. See James G. Frazer, The Golden Bough, one-vol. abridgment (London: Macmillan, 1922), esp. chs. 3-4.

8. Ibid., 448. Though Campbell cites this line repeatedly (for example, 1959:183, 1969:104, 1974:72, 1983:57), he gives the wrong page number. See also Frazer, 392: “It is no wonder that a phenomenon so important, so striking, and so universal should, by suggesting similar ideas, have given rise to similar rites in many lands.”

9. See Sigmund Freud, An Outline of Psycho-Analysis, tr. James Strachey (New York: Norton, 1949), esp. ch. 7.

10. See Rank, 6-13.

11. See, for example, Jung on the origin of the archetype of the divine child: see Jung, Symbols of Transformation, The Collected Works, V, first ed. (New York: Pantheon, 1956), 222, 328, 330, 417-420; “The Psychology of the Child Archetype,” in this The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious, The Collected Works, IX, part 1, first ed. (New York: Pantheon, 1959), 161n21. To be sure, early Jung attributed archetypes to the imprinting of the experiences of prehistoric man, who then transmitted to his descendants the memory of those experiences. Later Jung deemed archetypes innate in even prehistoric man. See ch. 9, p. 109n13.

12. One might contend that independent invention through heredity is no invention at all. But independent invention does not require that every generation within a society invent myths anew. It requires only that one generation invent them rather than adopt those of another society. For Jung, every society experiences archetypes for itself and creates its own myths to express them.

13. Jung, “The Psychology of the Child Archetype,” 155. Ironically, Campbell himself (1983:57) cites this same passage as an example of independent invention rather than diffusion. Undeniably, Jung is saying that independent invention—for him, through heredity—is far more important than diffusion, but he is at least acknowledging that diffusion occurs. On Jung's view see Anthony Stevens, Archetypes (New York: Morrow, 1983), 40-41. For an example of the standard social scientific objection to Jung's minimizing of diffusion see Melville J. and Frances S. Herskovits, Dahomean Narrative (Evanston, IL: Northwestern University, 1958), 97-100, 102-103. Just as independent “inventionists” allow for some diffusion, so diffusionists allow for some independent invention. They credit it with explaining exactly the differences among myths—diffusion explaining the similarities. By contrast, independent “inventionists” claim to be able to account for the differences as well as the similarities among myths: the similarities are the product of the similarities among individual societies; the differences are the product of the differences. Independent “inventionists” attribute to diffusion the explanation of only minor similarities too detailed to have been independently created by individual societies.

14. Jung, “On the Psychology of the Trickster-Figure,” in his The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious, 262.

15. Jung, “The Psychology of the Child Archetype,” 154-155.

16. Jung, reply, in Richard I. Evans, Jung on Elementary Psychology, rev. ed. (New York: Dutton, 1976), 67.

17. See, most grandly, Erich Neumann, The Great Mother, tr. Ralph Manheim, first ed. (New York: Pantheon, 1955).