Among Carl Jung's many pondering on life, death, and the meaning of his existence, he left us these reflections.
The meaning of my existence is that life has addressed a question to me.
Or conversely, I myself am a question which is addressed to the world, and
I must communicate my answer, for otherwise I am dependent upon the
world's answer. That is a suprapersonal life task, which I accomplish
only with difficulty. Perhaps it is a question which preoccupied my
ancestors... . What I feel to be the resultant of my ancestor's lives, or a
karma acquired in a previous personal life, might perhaps equally well be
an impersonal archetype. (Memories, Dreams, Reflections, p. 318)
"An impersonal archetype". As far as I know, Jung never referred to an "impersonal archetype" in his many other writings—although he certainly experienced such an archetype, as have you and I. They appear in our dreams, unnoticed because we do not know how to look for them.
For example, consider one of Jung's dreams that has prompted speculation over the years, the dream of Siegfried. Jung dates this dream on December 18, 1913.
I was with an unknown, brown-skinned man, a savage, in a lonely, rocky
mountain landscape. It was before dawn; the eastern sky was already
bright, and the stars fading. Then I heard Siegfried's horn sounding over
the mountains and I knew that we had to kill him. We were armed with
rifles and lay in wait for him on a narrow path over the rocks.
Then Siegried appeared high up on the crest of the mountain, in the first
ray of the rising sun. On a chariot made of the bones of the dead he drove
at furious speed down the precipitous slope. When he turned a corner, we
shot at him, and he plunged down, struck dead.
Filled with disgust and remorse for having destroyed something so great
and beautiful, I turned to flee, impelled by the fear that the murder
might be discovered. But a tremendous downfall of rain began, and I knew
that it would wipe out all traces of the dead. I had escaped the danger of
discovery; life could go on, but an unbearable feeling of guilt remained.
Waking from the dream, Jung could not go back to sleep or rest until he came to some insight about the mystery of killing Siegfried. Why kill such a magnificent creature? His conclusion released the tension he felt by focusing on an explanation that did two things. First came the dream. "Why this is the problem that is being played out in the world. ... Siegfried represents what the Germans want to to achieve, heroically to impose their will, to have their own way. ... I had wanted to do the same."
In his first understanding, Jung's insight gave him some peace of mind. But, in the second place, as he goes on to say, "Although I was not able to understand the meaning of the dream beyond these four hints, new forces were released in me which helped me to carry the experiment with the unconscious to a conclusion."
What was that insight? It was his experience of the "impersonal archetype." Yes, he concluded, in contrast with Freud's understanding of the unconscious as a repository of unacceptable thoughts, feelings, and sensations, the unconscious contains archetypal powers that make up the collective unconscious and act upon the individual with life-altering power.
Many more years would pass before Jung could satisfactorily understand the nature of the archetype's capacity to serve individuals, groups, and even nations. From that vantage point, Jung in 1936 could at last describe what happened to Germany. In his profound, insightful essay "Wotan," Jung at last penetrated the depths of what seized the unsuspecting, notable citizens of Germany. Politics could not explain what happened, nor could economic or psychological theory. Something much more powerful and unseen seized the individuals, the group and nation. This is the impersonal archetype, which carried the name of "Wotan" in Jung's analysis. The impersonal and savage archetype, "Wotan," seized Hitler and spread, infecting the nation.
Nor was Hitler the first to experience this phenomenon. The sensibility and verbal fluency of artists and writers in particular picked up the felt experience of what it is like for individuals and nations to come under the power of an impersonal archetype that can squander the transcendent values of humanity—courage, freedom, truth, beauty, and love.
Nietzsche wrote his poem, "To the Unknown God," and later on his Mistral Song, in which he described the "raging storm wind." Before that, DH Lawrence visited Germany. In his "A Letter from Germany," written probably in 1928, Lawrence wrote, "The old spell of the old world has broken, and the old bristling, savage spirit has set in." Or again,
And it all looks as if the years were whirling swiftly backwards, no more
onwards. Like a spring that is broken, and whirls swiftly back, so time
seems to be whirling with mysterious swiftness to a sort of death. ...
It is a fate, nobody can alter it. It is a fate.
This is exactly right, Lawrence's choice of words, "fate," because that is precisely what we are talking about when we refer to "the impersonal archetype." Jung opened the door for us to understand what for centuries we have described as "fate." This is the impersonal archetype as it acts upon persons and nations. Even an informed citizenry and sophisticated nation that offered western civilization the contributions of Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, Martin Luther, Düer, Ernst, Immanuel Kant, and Nietzsche himself—even such a people may prove to be no match for the impersonal archetype that slips into the minds and hearts of a people when we critically or dismissively say, "They should have known better." I am referring not to those artists I listed above. Heaven only knows how they experienced and responded to the impersonal archetypes of their time because time and circumstances change.
This is why we refer to the zeitgeist. Oxford Languages defines zeitgeist as "the defining spirit or mood of a particular period of history as shown by the ideas and beliefs of the time." Thus, we have Zeit meaning "time," and Geist meaning "spirit." And the spirit of a time is another way of describing "the impersonal archetype" that takes hold of the mood, the shared feelings, the dominant ideas, the politics, and the diversionary as well as distracting entertainment.
What shall you and I do or say when we pick up the fragments of memory, the tortured remnant of lost ideals, and the hope for our children's future? As Jung said, referring to his time and his responsibility, "It is important to ensure that I do not stand at the end with empty hands." (MDR, p. 318)
The meaning of my existence is that life has addressed a question to me.
Or conversely, I myself am a question which is addressed to the world, and
I must communicate my answer, for otherwise I am dependent upon the
world's answer. That is a suprapersonal life task, which I accomplish
only with difficulty. Perhaps it is a question which preoccupied my
ancestors... . What I feel to be the resultant of my ancestor's lives, or a
karma acquired in a previous personal life, might perhaps equally well be
an impersonal archetype. (Memories, Dreams, Reflections, p. 318)
"An impersonal archetype". As far as I know, Jung never referred to an "impersonal archetype" in his many other writings—although he certainly experienced such an archetype, as have you and I. They appear in our dreams, unnoticed because we do not know how to look for them.
For example, consider one of Jung's dreams that has prompted speculation over the years, the dream of Siegfried. Jung dates this dream on December 18, 1913.
I was with an unknown, brown-skinned man, a savage, in a lonely, rocky
mountain landscape. It was before dawn; the eastern sky was already
bright, and the stars fading. Then I heard Siegfried's horn sounding over
the mountains and I knew that we had to kill him. We were armed with
rifles and lay in wait for him on a narrow path over the rocks.
Then Siegried appeared high up on the crest of the mountain, in the first
ray of the rising sun. On a chariot made of the bones of the dead he drove
at furious speed down the precipitous slope. When he turned a corner, we
shot at him, and he plunged down, struck dead.
Filled with disgust and remorse for having destroyed something so great
and beautiful, I turned to flee, impelled by the fear that the murder
might be discovered. But a tremendous downfall of rain began, and I knew
that it would wipe out all traces of the dead. I had escaped the danger of
discovery; life could go on, but an unbearable feeling of guilt remained.
Waking from the dream, Jung could not go back to sleep or rest until he came to some insight about the mystery of killing Siegfried. Why kill such a magnificent creature? His conclusion released the tension he felt by focusing on an explanation that did two things. First came the dream. "Why this is the problem that is being played out in the world. ... Siegfried represents what the Germans want to to achieve, heroically to impose their will, to have their own way. ... I had wanted to do the same."
In his first understanding, Jung's insight gave him some peace of mind. But, in the second place, as he goes on to say, "Although I was not able to understand the meaning of the dream beyond these four hints, new forces were released in me which helped me to carry the experiment with the unconscious to a conclusion."
What was that insight? It was his experience of the "impersonal archetype." Yes, he concluded, in contrast with Freud's understanding of the unconscious as a repository of unacceptable thoughts, feelings, and sensations, the unconscious contains archetypal powers that make up the collective unconscious and act upon the individual with life-altering power.
Many more years would pass before Jung could satisfactorily understand the nature of the archetype's capacity to serve individuals, groups, and even nations. From that vantage point, Jung in 1936 could at last describe what happened to Germany. In his profound, insightful essay "Wotan," Jung at last penetrated the depths of what seized the unsuspecting, notable citizens of Germany. Politics could not explain what happened, nor could economic or psychological theory. Something much more powerful and unseen seized the individuals, the group and nation. This is the impersonal archetype, which carried the name of "Wotan" in Jung's analysis. The impersonal and savage archetype, "Wotan," seized Hitler and spread, infecting the nation.
Nor was Hitler the first to experience this phenomenon. The sensibility and verbal fluency of artists and writers in particular picked up the felt experience of what it is like for individuals and nations to come under the power of an impersonal archetype that can squander the transcendent values of humanity—courage, freedom, truth, beauty, and love.
Nietzsche wrote his poem, "To the Unknown God," and later on his Mistral Song, in which he described the "raging storm wind." Before that, DH Lawrence visited Germany. In his "A Letter from Germany," written probably in 1928, Lawrence wrote, "The old spell of the old world has broken, and the old bristling, savage spirit has set in." Or again,
And it all looks as if the years were whirling swiftly backwards, no more
onwards. Like a spring that is broken, and whirls swiftly back, so time
seems to be whirling with mysterious swiftness to a sort of death. ...
It is a fate, nobody can alter it. It is a fate.
This is exactly right, Lawrence's choice of words, "fate," because that is precisely what we are talking about when we refer to "the impersonal archetype." Jung opened the door for us to understand what for centuries we have described as "fate." This is the impersonal archetype as it acts upon persons and nations. Even an informed citizenry and sophisticated nation that offered western civilization the contributions of Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, Martin Luther, Düer, Ernst, Immanuel Kant, and Nietzsche himself—even such a people may prove to be no match for the impersonal archetype that slips into the minds and hearts of a people when we critically or dismissively say, "They should have known better." I am referring not to those artists I listed above. Heaven only knows how they experienced and responded to the impersonal archetypes of their time because time and circumstances change.
This is why we refer to the zeitgeist. Oxford Languages defines zeitgeist as "the defining spirit or mood of a particular period of history as shown by the ideas and beliefs of the time." Thus, we have Zeit meaning "time," and Geist meaning "spirit." And the spirit of a time is another way of describing "the impersonal archetype" that takes hold of the mood, the shared feelings, the dominant ideas, the politics, and the diversionary as well as distracting entertainment.
What shall you and I do or say when we pick up the fragments of memory, the tortured remnant of lost ideals, and the hope for our children's future? As Jung said, referring to his time and his responsibility, "It is important to ensure that I do not stand at the end with empty hands." (MDR, p. 318)
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