Reviews > Animus and Anima in Fairy Tales
Animus and Anima in Fairy Tales
Marie-Louise Von Franz
Inner City Books, Toronto, 2002, 128 p.p.
Animus and Anima in Fairy Tales, compiled by Daryl Sharp, is, delightfully, the one hundredth title of Inner City Books. Sharp has often praised the generosity of Dr. Marie-Louise Von Franz who is the honorary patron of Inner City Books. This diversified collection of fairy tales, brilliantly commented upon by Dr. Von Franz, is richly educational for those interested in learning more about Jungian psychology. It is also another sparkling gift from this magnificent twentieth-century literary scholar and Jungian analyst, who continues to benefit others even after her death.
There is much good news in this collection. One need never be overwhelmed: neither by the dark sides of the animus, the inner masculine figure in a woman and the archetype of death; nor by the dark aspect of the anima, the inner feminine figure in a man, and the archetype of life. Genuine gifts are given, based not on the resolutions analysis provides but upon how handicaps are viewed - with detached interest and compassion or with fear and self-criticism. For example, a frequent figure in fairy tales, the simpleton, Ivan, has more chance of success than do his smarter brothers. Why? Because, in his naiveté he is more open to new information and to spontaneous action than either of his more self-satisfied siblings. These skeletal tales, then, devoid of character development, provide the bare bones of patterns of behaviour and the traits that can work for or against integration. Von Franz candidly suggests that disabilities can work in one's favour as a starting point:
"These patterns, repeated motifs (of conflict) in fairy tales are always linked with emotions,
always a handicap in the outer world; always linked with the mystical."
In her extremely insightful and electric commentary following each of the fairy tales, Von Franz insists that it is possible to know ourselves, up to a point. After that it's about trusting the wisdom of life. And, oh yes, being willing to die: being willing to freely choose death the number of times required, so that this wisdom can do the job without our constant, controlling, interference. In other words, the life archetype has to let go and enter the realm of death. This grim reaper, correspondingly, has to extinguish itself to welcome its opposite -- abundant life.
Consistently, in her analysis of the fairy tales, Von Franz begins by noting what is missing in the quaternity - the fourfold pattern of masculine and feminine with the positive and negative aspects of each. She looks at what needs to be integrated, what needs to be renewed or released, and equally importantly, how this amalgamation is accomplished. Over and over again, it's not so much about being clever as it is in being good and decent. Qualities such as good intention, integrity, patience, open-mindedness, spontaneity and humility are the redeeming virtues of the heroes of Animus and Anima who, in the end, become more fully alive to begin the circle once more. As Marion Woodman puts it, "life is a series of birth canals." (The Ravaged Bridegroom, 1990)
In story after story, we are counselled about how to handle a journey filled with cruel tricksters, and how to endure the long, sometimes dry walk to individuation. One encounters, Von Franz says, many false masks behind which lies, frighteningly, one face -- the long, grey face that never laughs: the ego that always and stubbornly resists the principle source of its terror: change.
Von Franz suggests a smart way to proceed
"...by facing too directly what is desired or wanted, the power drive is constellated...
in order to keep one's feminine integrity, one must look forward what one wants
but only look inside oneself and try to find the light."
Which advice of the wise wizards and clever tricksters should be discarded and which listened to? Von Franz urges discrimination: In "The Virgin Czarina," we again meet Ivan, a "dumling," who agrees to die, to sacrifice his life rather than compromise himself.
Marion Woodman elaborates, in The Ravaged Bridegroom, upon such discernment, commenting that the old motifs of dominance such as "hero-kills-dragon-and-wins" are outworn. Today's theme is far more artistic and intelligent. It urges both balance and creative, compassionate partnership between masculine and feminine energies.
"The transformation of relationship can come about through a genuine understanding
of the difference between murder and sacrifice. Both kill or suppress energy, but the motives
behind them are quite different. Murder is rooted in ego needs for power and domination.
Sacrifice is rooted in the ego's surrender to the guidance of the Self in order to transform
destructive, although perhaps comfortable, energy patterns into the creative flow of life..."
Von Franz provides a treasury of "tip-offs" to those who wish to partner their feminine and masculine aspects. Here are but four:
"When man is possessed by the anima, then he feels that he must immediately do something...it is terribly urgent to send off a letter, for instance, or telephone and speak his mind. The tip-off to the state of possession is often just this feeling of urgency, that it has to be done this minute."
"The naive one has the gift of being spontaneous and the ability to expose oneself to new facts:
That is the proper attitude towards the unconscious."
"The trouble in this story starts only at a crucial moment...when the man wants to marry her...
Before this, she seems to be free. Thus, a person with a neurosis has it because the chance
of getting out of the complex is being offered."
"...North American Indian stories say, "Don't look up at the stars- they are death
and we shouldn't look at them." In some uncanny way, the primitive mind knows
they are projections of the unconscious, and we must stay away from them because
we haven't the strength to deal with them."
Von Franz concludes that ultimately,
"The anima and the animus are supra-personal to great extent; they belong to the divine realm,
the collective unconscious, whereas the shadow belongs to the personal unconscious.
If you check on the standards used by the animus in his constant criticism you find
they are always a collective truth, something much beyond the individual..."
She suggests that we allow self-criticism to neither cause us to stand back nor to hamper fulsome, enthusiastic, interested participation in our own journeys: "But you who are watching (only) are excluded from going to the mountain."
Eleanor Cowan