Copyright © 2002 by William Mistele. All rights reserved.
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An Interview Regarding Fairy Tales
The following questions were submitted to me by Ann
Kubricky who wanted to interview me in regard to fairy tales. She is doing a year long research paper for
her high school AP English class.
Refer
also to my Introduction to Fairy Tales on my web site. In that essay, I explore more carefully some
of the objections to the idea of genuine fairy tales as encounters with
fairies. I review some of the dangers
and also point out the particular literary device I am using in my selection of
fairies.
1. What is your full name and educational
history.
My name
is William Russell Mistele. I attended Wheaton College in Wheaton,
Illinois. I majored in philosophy with
a minor in economics and graduated in 1970.
Shortly after college, I began studying esoteric oral traditions. My next course of formal education took
place three years after college in 1973 at the University of Arizona. There I studied Hopi Indian language and
culture since there was a Hopi Indian teaching in the anthropology
department. I completed a MA in
linguistics at U of A in 1975. Other
than an occasional class in biochemistry or conflict resolution, I have not pursued
academic studies.
In addition to formal education, I have
studied for several years with a Taoist priest from one of the oldest
monasteries in China that has an unbroken lineage going back 1,200 years. I have lived in a Nyingma Buddhist monastery
which is the oldest sect of Tibetan Buddhism.
I have studied with the Order of Bards, Ovates, and Druids in England
which is the largest order of Druids.
And I have been pursuing practices in the hermetic tradition of Franz
Bardon for 23 years. Bardon hermetics
requires, among other things, extensive first hand encounters with nature
spirits which has lead me to write fairy tales to describe and share my
experiences.
2. Why have fairy tales lasted for so many
generations, and remained “timeless?”
A good story is
irresistible. It does not matter where
it originated. The people and places
change but the themes remain the same.
In the Mahaharata, the
great Hindu epic, Dharma, who is the law of the universe, demands answers
before anyone may quench their thirst from the water of life he sets before
them. “Answer my questions,” he
demands--”What is your opposite? What
is victory? What is happiness?” and so
forth. These are perennial questions. They must be and will be asked by each
generation as long as life exists.
Fairy tales play a similar role.
Fairy tales deal with
the numinous within nature. Something
is numinous when it beyond our knowledge, highly charged with energy and power,
and, at the same time, it has something for us--a demand, an invitation, or an
offer. Fairy tales are often
numinous. They speak to us of something
we can find in ourselves or discover in life if we somehow follow the right
path, if we are vigilant, alert, and
ask the right questions about the situations and people we encounter.
Nature is an
inexhaustible source of wonder and surprise.
In the last hundred years, we have filled in the squares in the periodic
table of elements. In the last fifty
years, we have identified most of the subatomic particles and yet scientists do
not know where ninety per cent of the matter in the universe is. They have called what is missing and unknown
dark matter because, unlike everything else in the universe, it hides
itself--it does not emit radiation from any part of the light spectrum.
We are in search of
something unknown, whether dark matter, the relation of gravity to the other
three fundamental forces in nature, how to cure cancer, make peace instead of
war, love instead hate, etc. and these tasks are extremely challenging and full
of wonder. Fairy tales remind us to be
open-minded, to ask questions, and to retain our sense of awe as we look at the
world around us.
Footnote:
Before going further, I
would like to discuss briefly the definition of fairy tales. Obviously fairy tales can be approached from
a wide variety of perspectives and defined according to the interests and
assumptions of different individuals.
For example, there is a
narrow definition of a fairy tale I sometimes use in my writing. In the narrow definition, fairy tales
contain a reference or component relating to fairies, that is, nature spirits
of some kind or another. In any case,
there is at least a reference to the magic of nature. Following this idea, we have the spirits of nature pertaining to
the ancient separation of nature into its four components--earth, water, air,
and fire.
These spirits are, for
example, sylphs and sprites who dwell in the air element. Dwarves and gnomes relate to the earth. Mermaids, mermen, and undines live in water. And salamanders and firedrakes, etc. dwell
in fire. The names of such creatures
relating to the four elements vary from culture to culture but there is a rough
correspondence that can be traced along these lines.
Even in the examples I
have cited there are other distinctions.
Mermaids are often conceived as being half human and half fish but
sometimes they resemble beautiful women.
Such a mixture of creatures would seemingly include a centaur, a
Pegasus, a harpy, and so forth.
There are stories with
various kinds of animals which we could call animal stories. American Indians have many animal stories
and often these animals talk. In these
stories, the animals often portray various human traits and characteristics.
The Bible has two animals that talk--the serpent in the Garden and Balaam’s
donkey. The Bible also refers to
unicorns. Unicorns, dragons, and other
kinds of magical animals certainly are well-positioned for inclusion under the
general category of fairy tales.
Werewolves, vampires,
and golems seem to fall more under the rubric of magical, occult, or
supernatural beings. Ghouls, zombies,
and so forth perhaps belong more under the caterogy of horror fiction depending
on your attitude toward them. Some of
them are magically produced, some belong to nature, and some are the result of
demonic actions.
On internet, a brother
and sister in Ireland tell how they always thought they were a little different
but their parents would never respond to their questions. One day their uncle explained to them that
the family had werewolves as it totem spirit.
In this case, the totem spirit seems to enhance their perceptions and
their sense of being a warrior.
Related to magical
animals and combinations such as half-human, half-animal are beings such as
Silkies. Silkies are seals that can
change into human beings after they take off their seal “skins.” (See A Field Guide to the Little People
by Nancy Arrowsmith and George Moorse, Pocket Books, 1977, as an example of
modern encyclopedias of fairies). The Sioux Indians tell about the Buffalo
Woman who taught them some of their rituals.
Magical animals or totem spirits in some legends change into human
beings and vice versa. These kinds of
stories, in my opinion, are naturally a part of fairy tales.
The elemental beings,
for that matter from an occult point of view, can also incarnate or enter and
live within the body of a human being under certain circumstances. Shapeshifting has a longstanding and
honorable place in oral traditions.
Psychologists might refer to such examples as forms of hallucination or
psychosis. Traditional theologians
might refer to it as possession. It all
depends on your point of view and the specific circumstances and details of the
case history.
There are also the whole
gamut of stories involving spirit guides, ghosts, and those spirits who
interact with those who are dying or dead such as Banshees. In the poem The Lady of Shalott by
Alfred Lord Tennyson and put to music so beautifully by Lorenna McKennitt in The
Visit, the woman uses a magic mirror to gaze upon the heroes of
Camelot. Yet she is under a curse not
to venture forth and meet them. I would
consider this a fairy tale though not in the narrow definition. Mirrors in their reflective aspect often
embody the magic of water.
In many cultures, ghosts
are perfectly acceptable for inclusion in fairy tales. Again, a ghost shows up in the Bible when
the witch of Endor calls the spirit of the departed Prophet Samuel to appear in
response to the request of Saul, the king of Israel. And Christ calls the departed spirits of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob
to appear so that three of his disciples can speak with them.
“Sendings” occur when
immediately after someone dies the departed individual appears to someone
living. My mother experienced sendings
of this kind. In my poem, An Elegy
for Kathy, a friend suddenly died.
The next day she appeared to me.
She asked me to write a poem through which her husband could have the
words to say good-bye to her since she had died so suddenly.
One nurse I know who runs
a terminally ill clinic in a hospital points out that ninety-nine per cent of
the patients see departed spirits who come to visit them and assist them in
their transition to the other side.
Ghosts and supernatural encounters of this nature are much more common
than the academic world leads us to believe.
I know a woman whose
child sees and talks to spirits similar to the child in the move, Sixth
Sense. I told the mother not to
allow him to see Sixth Sense without going with him but he managed to
sneak out and see it with his friends. Unlike the child in that movie, he only
sees “good spirits.” I also know a
number of men and women who see ghosts and also their children see ghosts. Such reports raise a lot of questions
regarding ethics, parental responsibility, and the best attitude toward
parenting under these circumstances.
A very successful Hopi
Indian medicineman I knew told me that when he was born a ritual was performed
that linked him to another child who had just died. Later in life, the dead child became his spirit guide and enabled
him to become a medicineman. In other
cultures, contact with the departed is much more accepted and this contact has
largely been overlooked by the modern world.
Encounters with ghosts
belong perhaps more to the areas of superstition, religion, the psychology of
death and dying, and parapsychology.
They make great stories but they are probably not fairy tales except
where an element of fairy comes into play.
A nine year old once asked me, “If someone is dead after they die, what
are they before they are born?” That is
a great question.
The song says that to be
in love is to see your unborn children in a woman’s eyes. Love leads us forward and creates for us a
future. It enables us to embrace life
and it grants us hope. Wisdom often
requires a movement in the opposite direction.
The Sufi master says that the student must recover the knowledge he had
before he was born. The Zen master asks
the koan, What was your face before your father was born?
Among the druids,
Beltane, the time of love and joining is paired with Samhuinn or Halloween, the
time of death and separation. Samhuinn
is the time when the veils between the worlds grow thin and the departed are
free to return and visit with us. The
two form one circle of life. To be
whole and to be fully alive is to embrace both light and dark without
fear. Medicinemen around the world
meditate in graveyards because you can not heal others unless you have
encountered the fears and the demons that rob them of their health and
peace.
Stories about ghosts
often involve journeys into the unknown and all sorts of transformations. But nature is not so concerned about death
and dying. It is a natural process. For this reason among others, some kinds of
fairies are considered to be immortal or nearly immortal. When they die, there is no loss of soul for
they return to their respective elements becoming as the foam on the waves.
When I write about fairy
tales, I am usually following the narrow definition. I write about beings who belong to and inhabit nature. My “stories” take the form of journal
entries--I say who I spoke with, under what circumstances the encounter took
place, and detailed experiences that arose.
Often the specific nature spirit will tell me one or more stories about
its previous encounters with human beings down through the centuries. I often interview these beings. I ask them, for example, to share with me
their innermost dreams and they do so.
These stories told to me by nature spirits are, in my definition,
genuine fairy tales according to my narrow definition.
Gods and goddesses often
show up in fairy tales. Depending on
the circumstances, they can represent not so much a religious or mythical
presence as much as a more concentrated and defined aspect of the numinous in
nature. In one of my stories, the
goddess Dawn tells a warrior a story about a woman whose child the goddess
blessed. The child acquired the gift of
turning enemies into friends. To me,
this story is a fairy tale although it is not within my narrow definition.
I am not concerned about
convincing anyone about the “reality” of these beings. Steven King, who also writes fairy tales,
says he seeks to convey terror or at least horror in his writing. If I recall accurately, Mr. King relates how
when he was a child he was locked in a dark basement and told there was a
monster with him. He says he left his
fingernail marks on the door as he tried to escape.
Writing is perhaps how
Steven King comes to grips with an experience that briefly shattered his
personality in a way that the modern world has been unable to bring together
again. Art gives us a way to manage
reality without surrendering to or denying its harsh demands.
I am happy if my stories
simply entertain the reader. Having
said that, I know at least ten people who see fairies and some who have done so
their entire lives. One woman can
accurately tell which fairy I have been interacting with. She can see it and give me its name. For another woman, fairies have played an
extremely dynamic role in guiding her to meet and succeed in her friendships as
well as granting her healing abilities.
The fairies I interact
with are among the twenty-eight elemental beings each described in a few
paragraphs by the Western hermetic magician Franz Bardon. I simply take his descriptions and use
twenty-three years of training in his system to interact with the personalities
of these nature spirits. The Bardon
system requires a basic first hand set of experiences with such beings.
In Bardon’s system, the
elemental beings or nature spirits embody heightened states of awareness and
abilities to work with nature energies that are essential to those who wish to
take full responsibility for manifesting in the “real world” their spiritual
ideals. For Bardon, a “spiritual”
individual who lacks this training is like an anthropologist who has never done
field work, a psychologist without clinical experience, or a chemist without
lab experience.
On the other hand, I am
well-acquainted with the hermeneutical methods of interoperation including
depth and transpersonal psychology, methods in meditation and contemplation,
introspective techniques and the psychology of imagery. In many of these practices, “belief” is not
relevant. The issues are psychological
growth, wholeness, developing a sense of wonder and well-being, or exploring
one’s empathic contact with nature.
In other words, you can
“find” the dwarf, undine, sylph, or salamander in yourself without having to
believe anything. You can practice
writing a journal as if you were a spirit who lives in a tree or an undine who
oversees a running stream. You can gaze
at an ocean, a mountain, or a stone getting a gut level feeling, a direct impression,
or intuitive reaction of what that specific part of nature means to you
individually. Artists--painters,
sculptures, and poet--are already well-acquainted with this procedure.
This can also be taken
further if you have the inclination.
Through an act of creative imagination, you can imagine your specific
feeling taking on the form of a living being and having a conversation with
you. You can meet unicorns and fairies
in dreams, in daydreaming, and in imaginative journeys and ask them anything
you want. It is possible to get a response
that is different from anything you can imagine.
This is a part of art,
psychology, and contemplation. It does
not need to have more “reality” than this in order to be enjoyable,
entertaining, and to enrich. I think
individuals can decide for themselves the best psychological, theological, or
metaphysical interpretation to place on first hand accounts of encounters with
fairies or fairy tales in general.
There is
also a distinction between a fairy tale as a short story that stands by itself
and mythology. The mythology provides
an entire landscape and a kind of history.
According to Joseph Campbell, genuine mythologies attempt to do four
things: the first thing they do is offer a genuine encounter with awe, wonder,
and mystery. In this sense, they enable
us to embrace all the horror and suffering as well as the beauty and delight in
being alive.
We
can also call fairy tales written recently as modern fairy tales, retold tales,
or fantasy. Are The Last Unicorn,
The Hobbit, and the Harry Potter stories fantasy or fairy
tales? They are clearly fiction and do
not present themselves as being real.
That is, they are presented as interesting stories but not as first hand
accounts. The Blair Witch Project, by contrast, is a movie presented as
if it is true as was the radio program, War of the Worlds, about the
Martian invasion back in the early part of the century. It is understandable that given that kind of
format some individuals would be mislead into thinking that what is being
reported is based on fact.
But
the question remains, Have we moved to where genuine encounters with the
numinous in nature and the realms of fairy no longer occur? It appears so if you take the modern
definitions and instruction as being the final authority:
Modern
fantasy: p. 178, Children’s Literature, Discovery for a Lifetime by
Barbara D. Stoodt-Hill and Linda B. Amspaugh-Corson (Prentice-Hall, 1996) the definition of fantasy runs
“....fantasy always includes at least one element of the impossible, one
element that goes against the laws of the physical universe, as we currently
understand them; it concerns things that cannot really happen, people or
creatures that do not really exist.
Nevertheless, each story must have its own self-contained logic that
creates its own reality.”
And
on page 175, “Fairy tales are unbelievable stories featuring magic and the
supernatural. Fairies, giants, witches,
dwarves, good people, and bad people in fairy tales live in supernatural worlds
with enchanted toadstools and crystal lakes.
Heroes and heroines in these stories have supernatural assistance in
solving problems.”
Obviously, a
bean stalk that grows up through the clouds is pretty much unbelievable. Some fairy tales are clearly made up and
even very young children understand this to be the case. The above definition is workable except that
I suspect a great many individuals have supernatural assistance, magic, and
mysterious encounters that occur in their lives. I find it rather humorous if not on some days unbelievable that
astrophysicists do not know where ninety per cent of the matter in the universe
is hiding. And as for “the laws of the
physical universe,”--they are still full of surprises and so far refuse to
submit to the best minds of our generation.
One only need
read Psychic Warrior by David Morehouse to observe the strange
interactions of science, technology, and modern life. Morehouse is a highly trained special forces officer who
commanded Bravo Company, 1st Battalion, 75th Ranger Regiment, Hunter Army
Airfield, Savannah, Georgia. He was
subsequently recruited into a top secret psychic warfare unit operated by the
CIA. With a training program developed
by Stanford and the University of Pennsylvania, he was subjected to a hypnotic
procedures designed to heighten his powers of remote viewing--to locate and
describe military targets around the world.
David Morehouse
writes at the end of his book, “This work is not a quest for faith in the
unseen. It is not a plea for spiritual tokens or selfless offerings; it is a
testimony to the reality of other worlds, of benevolent leaders, of
creators--and, more important, of life beyond this physical existence and
dimension.”
My point is that
there is a lot going on all around us.
There come times when we have make our own first hand observations and
draw our own conclusions in order to negotiate the conflicts we encounter. This is especially true when we are dealing
with assumptions that authority figures would like us to take for granted.
W.B. Yeats, in
his introduction to Fairy and Folk Tales of Ireland, (Macmillan
Publishing Company, New York, 1973), has an interesting comment on his
philosophical stance toward fairy tales.
In reviewing the various authors methodology in collecting and interpreting
fairy tales, Yeats says that in his collection of tales he has “Tried to make
it representative...of every kind of Irish folk-faith” while avoiding any kind
of rational interpretation.
Yeats goes on to
quote a response Socrates made in the Phadrus when asked about the tale
in which “Boreas is said to have carried off Orithyia from the banks of the
Ilissus....I beseech you to tell me, Socrates, do you believe this tale?”
In response,
Socrates reviews the various legends regarding this tale and the various
interpretations. He points out that for
those who believe this allegory there is the further problem of having to
continue on to “rehabilitate....numberless other inconceivable and portentous
monsters.” And if one is skeptical and
tries to “reduce them one after another to the rules of probability, this sort
of crude philosophy will take up all of his time.”
Socrates then
says, “Now, I have certainly not time for such inquiries. Shall I tell you why? I must first know myself, as the Delphian
inscription says; to be curious about that which is not my business, while I am
still in ignorance of my own self, would be ridiculous....I want to know not
about this, but about myself.”
Yeats,
like the Brothers Grimm, remained academically detached from his subject matter
so he would not be accused of promoting superstition or being enamored with
occult mysticism. Carl Jung, similarly,
did not reveal his mystical experiences because it would have interfered with
his promoting analytic psychology.
Yeats,
however, as also William Blake, was a registered member of the Order of Bards,
Ovates, and Druids. I suspect that you
do not associate with Druids and attend their ceremonies without having some
sort of appreciation for the magic within nature. I think when Yeats quotes Socrates on fairies, Yeats is
disguising his actual connection to the realms of fairy.
And as
for Socrates, I think he was asking the
wrong question. If you seek to know
yourself, at least in the way he asked it, you end up having to leap over
another question, “How do you know anything?”
Rational Greek philosophy almost inevitably leads to Descartes’
statement, “I think, therefore I am.”
Statements like that tell us absolutely nothing when it comes to knowing
ourselves.
The only
way to know the self is through encounters with others and with the world
around us. For me, a better question
is, “What is it to be fully alive?”
Socrates never sat in the forest and became the rock, the tree, the
steam, the wolf, and the deer in his mind. He never found these things within himself. Greek civilization was split between the
rational and the sensual, between Apollo and Dionysus.
In the
New Testament, Christ invited and intended Peter to encounter a direct and
magical contact with the numinous aspect of nature. Standing upon the water amid a storm, Christ bid Peter to walk on
water also. According to that account,
Peter got out of the boat and began to walk on water. But then Peter’s faith failed him and he began to sink among the
waves.
For two thousand years
the Christian Church has been hostile to nature. It has failed to consider the divine invitation to explore its
numinous qualities other than under the guise of rationalistic Greek philosophy
or science. Perhaps it is time to reexamine
our options and procedures.
3. How do fairy tales
"mirror real life struggles"?
Individual have
conflicts with other people, society, and circumstances and this occurs
regardless of who you are, how old you are, or the society into which you are
born.
Children have already
met bullies, cruelty, blind aggression, danger, fear, horror, and abuse. This is true in my understanding of
children. Fairy tales offer children a
chance to learn the words and review these feelings and situations in imaginary
settings that are often non-threatening.
“Once upon a time,” or “In a kingdom....” are locations sufficiently
removed from the child’s circumstances that the emotions and issues can be
raised without directly threatening the child.
Fairy tales enable us to
externalize. They teach how to see both
sides of issues, offering perspective.
They enable children to talk about things that they usually do not talk
about. Stories organize reality. Telling a story helps make sense of
reality. A story can read others’ minds
and present both sides within a context and it can be resolved. It may not be real but it presents options.
The stories review issues concerning love and nurturing, power and its abuse,
friendship, trust, fear, and horror.
They become an opportunity to rehearse and think about life’s
difficulties.
When I
was a teenager, I was invited to sit in on a board meeting of a Christian
organization that invested large sums of money. Naive me, I was shocked to discover that the adults were as
selfish, greedy, bullying, fearful, insecure, and blindly competitive as
children I knew. And these were the
leaders of their communities. Good
fairy tales present human beings as being both positive and negative, as having
strengths as well as weaknesses. That is something I might
have considered more carefully before taking offense at what is simply human
nature.
There
is also a more theoretical outlook I have on fairy tales. For me, the nature spirits who are elemental
beings mirror four basic components in the human psyche that are often in
conflict. Let me review a few comments
from my essay, An Introduction to Faery Tales. The salamanders who dwell in fire, the firedakes, (the genie from
Aladin is a salamander) are fascinated with will power.
The salamanders seize each moment
with zeal in order to dissolve the obstacles blocking their path to
fulfillment. Such fiery will destroys
all fear and apprehension. For the
salamanders, each moment presents the opportunity to purify, strengthen, and
expand the power of will. The
salamanders are enchanted with the magic within fire to heal, to fuse, to
refine, to integrate, to transform, and to electrify according to their
individual inclinations.
At the other extreme is the element
of water--something very easy to relate to as a human being. In water are love and sharing--the
experience of life giving birth to life and of flowing in and through
another. In water is the absolute
destruction of loneliness, separation, and isolation. For the beings who dwell within water, the undines, each moment
is a magnetic sea containing the dreams and the taste of ecstasy--each moment
arises from and resonates with the love sustaining all life on earth.
In the air element is found clarity of
mind and the attainment of freedom. The
air element is so vast and expansive, so encompassing, those who are
illuminated by its wisdom vanquish all confusion and overcome all
attachment. The beings who reside in
the sky, the sylphs, enter each moment seeking to attain and to abide in
complete harmony.
In the earth element--through
comprehending shape, weight, density, and the molecular vibration of minerals
and elements--is the wisdom that banishes depression, sadness, and sorrow. The most powerful gnomes who dwell within
the earth perceive time not only in terms of centuries, eons, and geologic
ages. Their perception penetrates into
the processes through which matter is
formed and through which it dissolves.
For gnomes, rocks and mountains do not
possess solid and firm edges. Rather,
their boundaries and shapes are fluid
and liquid. For gnomes, anything in
physical existence is constantly transforming, solidifying and dissolving
again--in each moment matter and emptiness are flowing through each other like
water being poured into water.
And if you listen carefully with you
heart, you can discover that each moment contains a wonderful silence and a
stillness in which you can hear the stars singing. The elements of nature which we perceive as solid have been born
in the furnaces of stars and have passed through the emptiness of space. When I
write about these kind of nature spirits I am always discussing human nature--what
elementals are, all their powers and modes of perception, exist within us as
latent abilities which we can develop.
What I am suggesting, then, is that the
conflicts between love and will and between mind and body often occur because
we do not understand these things in their primal nature. Evil catches us off guard because we have
failed to study will and power as they exist in nature and in the depths of
ourselves. Our relationships fail
because love, in the depths of its beauty and transforming power, has escaped
our grasp. We worry and are anxious
because we fail to discover the clarity of mind that is like the sky that is
ever on the edge of everyone’s consciousness.
And we feel without roots and have difficulty establishing our sense of
home because our feet do not know how to reach down into the earth like the
roots of trees or rest in peace like a stone.
4. Can you give an
example of a fairy tale that does this? (Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Pied
Piper, Snow White)
Of course, there are
many obvious parallels between the circumstances of fairy tales and real life
families and situations. The foster or
step parent in a fairy tale may mirror the real life parent or step parent. Competition with siblings may resonate with
the cruel sisters in Cinderella or the jealous sisters in Eros and Psyche. A grandparent may play the role of guide and
protector instead of the magic fairy in a fairy tale. In Hansel and Grettle, you may not find yourself as a
child encountering a wicked witch but rather a relative who becomes your
caretaker and who commits criminal acts against you.
When I talk to a tree,
the tree serves as a mirror that reflects back to me the psychological process
or conflict unfolding inside myself. I
described an actually conversation I had with a Blue Spruce tree on Christmas
Eve, 1971 on the front lawn of Wheaton College, Wheaton, Illinois. I wrote this
conversation into a dialogue between a bard named Vittana and the tree in my
book, Mystical Fables.
Vittana
replies, “Once a long time ago when I was very sad I sat down in front of a
Blue Spruce tree.
“After a while I asked the tree, ‘Are
there things that make you sad? Do you
worry when your cones drop from your branches without saying goodbye and then
you never hear from them again?’
“I waited in silence hoping the tree
would speak to me, for this was the first time I had beseeched a tree to answer
my questions. I was not sure of the
correct procedure and whether or not I was violating any unspoken rules. But the tree did not seem to mind at
all. It spoke to me as if it were my
parent and I was its child who asks the right questions at the right time and
in the right season.”
“‘Yes,’ replied the tree. ‘Whenever part of myself is lost, I
experience unease and distress.
“‘In the late afternoon when the sun
begins to set, when the earth shifts from day to night, time is suspended. In the moments of twilight, memories return
to me from all periods of my life.
“‘And then on occasion I recall when I
too was a pine cone on one of my mother's top most branches. I was so high I could see the tips of
mountains that lay far beyond the horizon.
The sun's first rays of light woke me in the morning. And I never missed the rising or setting of
the moon.
“‘Then one day deep in winter when snow
covered the ground, I was hit by a powerful, freezing gust of wind. My stem broke and my world came to an end.
“‘I fell to the earth below no longer
attached to the tree. I lay upon the
ground for days refusing to believe what had happened to me. There I was--lying upon the cold earth among
stones. All around me was a feeling of
separation and the loneliness of fallen snow.
“‘This dark vision persisted and would
not go away. There was no water to
drink; the surface of the earth was frozen.
I could no longer see the moon.
The stars were hidden from me. I
was abandoned and then half buried as snow continued to fall.
“‘Finally one night when I could stand it
no longer I cried out to my mother.
When I heard her voice, I looked
up and saw her immense beauty.
“‘She said, ‘My child, the Earth is now
your mother. And though the icy hands
of winter have torn you from me, listen with all your heart to the quiet stillness of the earth. Even in the dead silent cold of winter there
throbs and sounds a pulse and a heartbeat.
“‘Listen for the Song the Earth sings
even in the darkest night and in the loneliest place you may enter. You have begun a long journey, but do not be
afraid. This is a time to abide in
peace, to rest and to sleep within the sheltering protection of Silence. Goodbye my child.’
“And then my mother was silent. I never heard from her again.”
“But I accepted her words. I closed my senses to the outside
world. I went and hid in the innermost
chambers of my pine cone. And then I slept and I dreamed the Earth
Herself came to visit me. She told me a
long tale of winter and of night and of a Silence beyond all sight.
“I floated upon the sounds of her
voice. I sailed upon her songs. Her dreams entered my heart and became my
own. She held me to her breast through
the winter was long and the darkness profound.”
“I do not remember how long I slept in
her embrace. But the Earth did not call
out to me to awaken and to rise up.
“Instead, I was awakened amid dazzling
light and bathed in warmth and beauty.
An infinite song of delight penetrated into my cone. I quickly stripped off my outer garments and
stood naked beneath the rays of a radiant sun.
And as that Greater Light took hold of me, I spouted as a young shoot and was surrounded by the merry songs of Spring.”
This children’s
story or fairy tale is about death and rebirth, something I imagine myself to
have gone through. The tree was
presenting me with a very difficult problem I had to solve--namely, I had to
undergo a long journey, turning away from the modern world and venturing into
what was for me the unknown. The journey was similar to a seed that falls to the
earth knowing not the transformation it is to pass through. I consider the journey of an artist to find
his inspiration and style to be sometimes this kind of real life struggle.
Another
fairy tale I wrote was told to me by the sylph Capisi. It is called, The Poet Amir.
In this story, Capisi tells how she produced a magical incarnation in
which she took the form of a human woman because she had fallen in love with an
Arab poet. In this fairy tale, a master
in the poet’s religious tradition points out that the treasures of fairy are
too enchanting and fascinating for the human race to deal with.
If Amir reveals these treasures of fairy
to mankind, human history will be compromised.
Responsibility and productivity are the priorities for human beings and
not bliss and ecstasy. Perhaps this is
because bliss and ecstasy invariably require an encounter with their
opposites--pain and separation.
Amir did not know how to let die his
dependency on others. He needed their
beliefs to sustain his own. He was unable
to proceed alone. Others point out that
this is a crucial test that occurs in most spiritual journeys as for example
when St. Columba says, “I lie down in the dust and my spirit dies within me.”
The
story of Amir goes to the heart of the Jewish, Christian, and Islamic
traditions in which the fairy kingdoms are strictly prohibited, forbidden and
off limits, except perhaps for a few saints or masters. These conflicts are conflicts between being
receptive or productive, creative or responsible. To what extent do we explore pure perception and first hand
experience and then balance this with the need to organize and get on with
living our lives as useful members of society?
The child certainly encounters the dogma
and need to adapt to the requirements of the adult world. The teenager similarly often has a huge
conflict finding his or her own identity in the process of separating from the
family and finding a place in society.
And those who have raised their children once again must deal with the
unfinished business from childhood and all the longings and dreams they have
set aside in order to care for, nurture, and provide for their family. The fairy tale speaks to us during all
phases of our lives.
In some of the
children’s stories I write, the story line is made up by the child in
combination with one or more adults. In
the Dragon and the Knight, the little girl (who plays the maiden
kidnapped by the dragon) interrupts the story line demanding that for once the
knight and the dragon, (played by the father and the mother), put aside their
differences and reach some sort of mutually acceptable solution. The dragon and knight manage to do just
that. The story is a study in the part empathy and role reversal have to play
in conflict resolution.
But this is not just a made up story, a
retelling of stories about dragons and knights as is so typical in so much
modern fantasy. The father who tells
the story is a king who has an alliance with a cosmic dragon, a being
possessing an unmitigated and uninhibited lust for power. This king is so clever he is able to use
concepts such as freedom, democracy, empowering the individual, and capitalism
to further his quest to dominate the earth.
The king is under the protection of the dark side and can not overthown
except by somone possessing a greater power of will. And the daughter understands intuitively how to play the same
game.
When individuals or
societies do not have a language or the imagery to describe the dynamics of the
inner psyche, when there is no effective language of the soul, then everyone
suffers. Of our soldiers who fought in
Viet Nam, three times more have committed suicide than died in battle. We still have Viet Nam veterans who live by
themselves out in the jungles here in Hawaii.
They encountered something in Viet Nam that still has possession of
their souls and it will not let go.
How do you assume a new
identity when your old identity is destroyed?
How do you undergo a spiritual journey when society and no one offers or
is able to offer you any support? How
do you find what you have lost or what your civilization has abandoned
thousands of years ago?
I spoke with a
unrostered agent of the CIA who had an extemely high rank. He ran all sorts of black ops and also
played a significant role in major international diplomatic endeavors. He finally burnt out. So he got in a sailboat here in Hawaii and
sailed off by himself without telling anyone.
He spend a year he said lying on a beach just thinking about his
life. And then he sailed back to Hawaii
and invented for himself a job he loved and has been doing it for the last
thirty years.
He
encountered a dragon of despair. He
overcame that dragon by allowing himself to “sleep in the earth” and let the
earth awaken and stir within him new instincts that lead him back to life. Psyche does this in the story of Eros and
Psyche. In the story of Iron John,
Robert Bly says that the hero has to go down into the mud at the bottom of the
pool in order to find renewal. In many
fairy tales, there is an encounter with something dark and wild. It is often this element that brings new
hope and new life.
5. Do fairy tales help or hinder a child’s growth and perspective on life?
Once again, fantasy in
general enables us to dream and imagine.
It is exciting and fun to imagine you are someone else. It becomes absorbing and offers vicarious
experience. It helps us understand ourselves and others.
From p. 179, of Children’s
Literature. “Fantasy stimulates students
to look at life and the problems of life in new ways. In fantasy, children develop more open-minded attitudes that
enable them to understand others’ points of view. Fantasy stretches the imagination and encourages dreams,
stimulating creative thinking and problem-solving abilities.
And also, Children’s
Literature, p. 171, (quoting Bettelheim, 1975, p. 76) “Nothing in the entire range of children’s
literature--with rare exceptions--can be as enriching and satisfying to child
and adult alike as the folk fairy tale....A child can learn more about the
inner problems of man and about solutions to his own (and our) predicaments in
any society, than he can from any other type of story within his
comprehension.”
Those are very emphatic
statements. I would suggest that we
consider the context in which a fairy tale is told. A parent, for example, may read a fairy tale as a bedtime story
to a child. What I would notice if I were
observing this is the quality of voice, the love and interest as well as the
empathy and attention to detail conveyed through the parent’s intonation and
body language. You can tell a story
with love so that even the bad wolf and the evil dragon are appreciated for the
part they have to play.
In Little Red Riding
Hood, with a slight shift in tone, the wolf can be portrayed as an idiot,
as something scary, or even as a creature of no significance. The story teller has the power to color and
slant a story according to the emotions he or she puts into it and the way it
is told. The same can be done through the artist’s drawings in a picture book.
I used to turn off the sound on the TV and
ask my kids to just look at the individual’s face on the screen. Or I would ask them to close their eyes and
just listen to the voice. I would then
ask, Is this person conveying love or fear?
Friendship or hatred? Is there
tension and confusion or confidence?
The first message,
therefore, in a spoken fairy tale comes from the attitude of the story
teller. I have heard “masters” from
different traditions convey arrogance, self-righteousness, condescension,
indifference, fear, and weariness as well as wonder, delight, joy, happiness,
and peace as they told stories. On this
level of spoken language and oral tradition, the content of the story is irrelevant. The story is an opportunity for the teller
to convey his or her integrity, faith, trust, flexibility, courage, and
appreciation. There is always a
non-verbal component and, for me, this is the most interesting thing that
occurs when a story is told.
I talk more about this
under question 9 dealing with escape from reality. My father almost never told a story his whole life until
recently. He was a man of secrets and
also of power. My mother, on the other
hand, was willing to talk about anything.
She had wonderful stories to tell about people and her own life.
There is a massive
amount of fairy tales and folk tales available, some of which is part of
everyone’s family traditions. It turns
out my father was a genius at breaking the rules in college and getting away
with it. He never shared any of this
with us. He knew that you can have fun
and break the rules even when everyone is watching you and trying to catch
you. Had I known this, I would have
seen a much greater continuity between his generation and my own. I had to discover this capacity our family
possesses on my own without any verbal assistance. Father was not always deadly serious. He possessed great humor.
I had to read Tolkein’s The
Hobbit to start my mind thinking about what is possible. I had to read Shakespeare’s The Tempest
in order to form an attitude about magic and all those powers that we possess
that nonetheless are denied and not spoken about in conventional society. Someone just emailed me who is a member of two
different native American tribes. He complains that the elders tell him to
study only the old ways and to avoid other forms of spirituality. He calls the elders oppressive and
narrow-minded.
I told him that perhaps
all elders are oppressive and narrow-minded at times to those who are in the
process of finding their own way in life.
Good stories get us beyond these conflicts between the generations. Fairy tales certainly are of this
variety. They speak to all ages of the
world. They fill in for the wisdom,
wonder, and imagination that the generations sometimes fail to communicate to
each other.
6. Are there any real life adult situations when fairy tale motifs are
reinforced? (Rewards of being beautiful, "living happily ever after")
I think fairy tales tell
us you have to be ever alert, constantly vigilant, and ready for the
unexpected. You have to keep asking
questions. You have to know when to let
go and flow and when to hold your ground and fight with all of your might. There is a time to be radiant and bright
like the sun, to be the center of action and to unite everything with strong
connections. There is also a time to be
silent and hidden, more so than a cave at the center of a mountain at night.
Consider beauty. Some supermodels these days have taken
charge of their careers. They have
learned photography and shoot other models and run their own photography
studios. They design and sell clothes
and invent new perfumes. It would be
hard to find a male who could manage their careers better than they are doing
themselves. We are in a different age,
an age that invites us to explore the mysteries of androgyny, of the masculine
and feminine in union. They have
transcended the idea that beauty makes you passive and stupid or that its only use
is to gain the attention of and influence men.
In traditional stories,
e.g., Snow White, beauty can get you into trouble. Some people understand beauty for the power
it is and they would possess that power or else destroy it removing it
disturbing presence from their lives. In Eros and Psyche, Psyche gets in
trouble not with other people but with the goddess Aphrodite. Men stop worshiping at the temples of the
goddess because they become enamored with Psyche. In the Japanese fairy tale, Kaguya Hime, the young woman
is so beautiful the most powerful men in the kingdom vie for her hand in
marriage yet she can not consent to marry any of them.
In my book, Mystical
Fables, the head of the thieves guild, a dwarf disguised as a human being, says
of beauty:
Beauty is a most
remarkable thing. To taste it is to fly
with divine wings. When its light fills
you eyes, you see sights hidden from the wise.
When it touches your skin, you are freed of all sin. And if it ever should anoint you, its cool,
soothing tenderness flowing through you, then all that you have ever lost is
again found and impossible hopes and dreams will soon come around.
In the same
book, the bard Vittana says that his Muse is a bird of terrible beauty that
flies between the stars. It offers to
be a friend to those who have no friends.
Yet the spirit also says, “But this geis I lay upon you, that you may
not know my name nor may you even dream of the land from which I have come
until that very moment in time when you cross that very threshold and enter
that land--for it is a place unknown within your soul and I am forbidden by the
laws of the universe from revealing it to you.
You must discover it on your own.”
Beauty is that
way--it can reach inside of us and discover our deepest secrets and satisfy our
deepest needs. It has the power to
unite all aspects of the self--the child and the adult, the body and the mind,
passion and spirit, the past and the future.
It harmonizes and it reconciles all opposites.
But to posses it,
to contain it within yourself, to unite with it--this is one of the great
mysteries of life. Beauty awakens
within us powers and dreams we are not even aware that we have. But to form a union with beauty, you have to
accept yourself exactly as you are and also be willing to pass through the
unknown and to meet parts of yourself you have never encountered before. This makes beauty dangerous. It unites the different parts of ourselves
and yet it changes us in ways we can not understand in advance.
The my fairy
tale called The Wizard Hasan, the sylph Capisi tells me about how a
wizard once tried to take possession of her.
We have hundreds of thousands of cases of stalking that occur in the
United States each year. In stalking,
the stalker often concludes that the beauty and life the other possesses can
not be found in him or herself. The
stalker seems to say, “I will never find the life you have within me. Your beauty is something I can never touch
unless you are with me.”
The Wizard Hasan
is a stalker. He is possessive, greedy,
and of course he has great magical power.
He spies Capisi flying through the sky and imagines one day saying to
himself,
“Ah, I have this
beauty, the wind itself caught in my spell!
This demonstrates my power and my will. As she submits to me, her femininity is naked and revealed. I taste her vitality. Her life flows through my veins. Oh, the satisfaction! The feelings unleashed as I devour her
freedom, as I absorb her essence into my being!”
Capisi outwits
the wizard by appealing to his greed.
She uses the power of beauty to do this. She offers him a magical power that only the greatest magicians
and the prophets of God possess. The
trick is, he has to encounter an experience with infinite peace as one of the
magical components to the spell she is teaching him.
As the wizard
attempts to do this, he encounters the child within himself--his own childhood
and all the longings, dreams, and needs he left behind and abandoned once he
chose a path of acquiring magical power.
But the child within him became awake again and was so strong that it
completely destroyed his magical will.
His magic was based on separation and control but the child possessed a
greater power.
When you possess
beauty and harmony to this degree, you can see the deepest secrets and the
desires hidden in the depths of others’ hearts. You can speak to others from the core of their own being with
their own voice and through their own deepest longings and dreams. This is in all the stories in which knowing
another’s magical name gives power over them.
This is in the Wizard of Earthsea and The Forgotten Beasts of
Eld.
In
drug and alcohol addictions, the process of recovery often involves therapies
that reinforce focusing totally on the here and now. The individual concentrates on what he or she is feeling and
thinking in the present moment. The
choices one makes relate to the immediate situation you are in and who you are
in this instant. This approach
strengthens will and it is backed up by lots of support.
The inner
journey for such individuals is often far too dangerous for anyone except the
most gifted. In this case, part of self
is best left unexplored, repressed, and lock away from the conscious self so that
the individual can get on with coping with life. There is a time when you do not give things to those in need
crying for your attention. You stay
focused on your own journey crossing the river. To do otherwise is to become lost.
In The Last
Unicorn by Peter Beagle, Schmendrick, an incompetent magician, manages to
survive the attack of a harpy with the help of a unicorn. The unicorn says something that everyone
undergoing great trauma or emotional conflicts might keep in mind if those
traumas or conflicts have the power to destroy.
The unicorn
says, (p.46) “You must never run from anything immortal. It attracts their attention.” Her voice was gentle, and without pity. “Never run,” she said. “Walk slowly, and
pretend to be thinking of something else. Sing a song, say a poem, do your
tricks, but walk slowly and she may not follow. Walk very slowly, magician.”
One of the great
dangers to those who encounter unusually powerful emotions is that they will be
possessed by those emotions. In some
cases, if they feel connected to the emotion, they may end up feeling larger
than life--certain beyond all doubt that they are right and everyone else is
wrong. Or else they are depressed,
because the strength of what is within them drains all the excitement and life
from the world around them.
The advice is to
stick to the present moment, tie your shoes, drink if you are thirsty, eat if
you are hungry. Stay focused on who you
are and simply ignore what is more powerful than you until it takes an interest
in something else, something more suitable for its appetites, and goes
away. At another point in time, there
will be an opportunity when the balance of power is in your favor and you have
the courage and knowledge required to overcome your obstacles.
7. How are fairy tales
different for young girls and boys?
I can only speculate on
the answer to this question. Certainly,
on the surface, there are many stories in which the male is active and the
female inactive such as Sleeping Beauty or Cinderella. In feudal societies or a society with rigid
gender roles, these stories would indeed reflect the prevailing attitudes
toward gender definition. The gender
roles in the stories would serve to indoctrinate and reinforce societal
attitudes.
In a post industrial,
pluralistic, and democratic society such as our own, the stories can be taken
in a completely different way. In one
interpretation, the male represents the activity of consciousness and reason
while the female is the activity of the intuition, instinct, and deeper
feeling. These two components are
active in each of us regardless of gender.
In this kind of
interpretation, it becomes important to study the way in which the male and
female interact. The male risks his
life to beat through the wall of thorns in Sleeping Beauty to see if he can
awaken the female. The male searches
throughout the kingdom for a woman whose foot fits the shoe left behind and
which for some reason did not dissolve.
The female--the inner connection to life, the prize of great value, the
possibility to genuine love, and the presence that stirs one’s heart on the
deepest level--this comes from the subconscious part of ourselves.
Once upon a time men had
to suffer isolation, pain, and undergo long spiritual journeys in order grow. Some women will way that this “hero’s quest”
is a male thing. It is perhaps more
appropriate in our age to say that the hero’s journey belongs to anyone, male
or female, who wishes to develop the masculine part of themselves--to take
responsibility for the world, to take charge and master the self, and to be
dynamic in action so any obstacle is overcome.
This side of consciousness has been emphasized and even overdeveloped in
Western civilization.
It is the respect and
appreciation for the power that belongs to the feminine that is not very
developed in our Western history. Fairy
tales are very good at filling in and giving hints of how this other mysterious
power manifests. The feminine side may
act through our deepest feelings and intuitions. It guards and nourishes our dreams and the longings of our
hearts.
It may seem that such
vague feelings, longings, and dreams have little to do with everyday life and
reality. They are too inactive and without authority, recognition, and
power. This idea raises some
significant questions. Are little girls
in fairy tales somehow less important than the little boys in fairy tales? Are the girls’ lives fulfilled through being
inactive and passive? Do fairy tales
suggest that there are consequences and serious disturbances when girls depart
from these roles?
Individual boys and
girls no doubt have a very wide range of responses to fairy tales. Perhaps some girls struggle with the passive
role assigned to them by some fairy tales.
A male, such as myself, might point out that in a large number of fairy
tales it is the female that defines the spiritual landscape. The woman is the one who moves the male to
action and she is the treasure that he must win by overcoming some obstacle
that holds or possesses her. It is the
life within the woman that determines what men see, what they quest for, and what they are able to find.
On the other hand, if
there are adult women who are acutely aware of the inequity in society, that
for example women still earn 10% less than their male counterparts and hold far
fewer positions of authority than men, these fairy tales become the enemies of
the feminist movement. Stories, esp.
stories that may indoctrinate by depicting the roles of the genders in society,
should be rewritten to reflect the goals and standards of modern society.
Take for example the
stories of mermaids and mermen. Franz
Bardon says of some of the mermaids he describes that their beauty is such that
they possess the power to enchant even the most powerful of magicians. To women is attributed the power of beauty.
The mermen, by contrast,
in Bardon as well as many legends (See A Field Guide to the Little People on
mermen) control the winds and weather.
The merman are active and willing to negotiate with sea captains so that
the ships avoid storms. The mermaids,
again, dance, sing, and offer the ecstasies of love beyond human
imagination.
I would hesitate to
place an gender based ideological interpretation on this set of tales. Some of the mermen are probably as
attractive as Sting and David Bowie combined with magical powers thrown
in. Beauty is a matter of perception.
Perhaps the merman are as beautiful to women as the mermaids are to those males
who perceive them.
Fire and air are often
considered to be active. The mermen,
using the magnetism in water, gain control over the winds and lightening. The mermaids, using the same magnetism,
control empathy, clairvoyant visions, and the magic of tones. A human being is no so limited. He can learn both the active and passive
abilities according to his or her inclinations. There are no inherent gender restrictions on education or
spiritual perception.
8. Please explain how psychological battles take place within a fairy tale.
There are
many battles that take place in fairy tales.
Certainly, the entire spectrum of human desires and passions are enacted
through the stories told around the world.
If someone speaks of psychological battles, then he or she will probably
be discussing the battle in terms of a preferred psychology. I suggest that no one escapes their
historically and culturally conditioned bias when it comes to interpreting
fairy tales. Put another way, we do
best when we learn from each other.
Interpretation is necessary. It
is also a communal and intersubjective activity.
At the
end of this section, I give an example of a psychological battle, a test, if
you like, that I enacted with a nature spirit or salamander called Itumo. This particular “battle” was somewhat
typical of the way I write. I get to
know the nature spirit. The nature
spirit gets to know me. There is give
and take. Sometimes friendship and more
occurs.
Interactions with nature spirits of this
kind, however, always involve a contest of will and power. Nature spirits are in no way governed by
human morality. Many of these beings
have existed for countless eons before human beings much less human religions
appeared upon the earth. They have
their own rules and laws to which they adhere.
One of the rules for exploring the realms
of fairy is that you have to confront the darkness in yourself. The nature spirits such as Itumo and others
are quick to perceive any weakness within you.
They are especially gifted at discerning anything that you are
concealing from yourself or any unusual power that is active within you and of
which you are as yet unaware. You have
to stay very alert and very clear to interact with them successfully.
There is a kind of battle that nature
spirits have relayed to me. It
sometimes occurs when human magicians try to control them. It reduces to a simple formula in which the
nature spirit says, “You want to control me?
You can not control me until you know the essence of my being.” (Or the
nature spirit’s magical name as many fairy tales like to put it). “You can not
know the essence of my being unless you are one with me.” The trick is that this oneness can not be
compelled through external means. This
oneness is a power of love.
In my story about the salamander Pyrhum,
the salamander meets his match when he encounters an ancient magician named
He’adra. In this encounter, Pyrhum
explains his attitude toward human beings.
Pyrhum said, "Less than a handful of
mortals have ever walked by my side and survived. And only one or two were willing like you to enter the domain
where I reign without having to disguise their fear and trembling. I oversee all fire on earth and I care not
much for your race. I am not
arrogant. I just have no respect for
human beings because they have not sought to discover the power hidden in their
hearts. They think power is external to
the self, that it is found in the ability to bind matter or subject other
living beings to their will.
"Those who sojourn into my domain
are enamored with faith--they want something for nothing without offering
anything in exchange. They attempt to
enchant me by pronouncing fearsome and terrible names of gods, goddesses, and
deities from various religions. What nonsense!
Do they think they can badger me when I can command a sea of magma to
stretch out its hand in a strand rising two thousand miles until it punctures
the surface of the world and forms mountains three miles tall? These magicians can not even command their
own body to pump blood to the part of their heart muscle which is suffocating
because an artery is clogged.
"Do they expect me to get down on my
knees and obey their command? They
vainly imagine they are united with God as they babble on raising their voices
higher in pitch till it breaks into a shriek.
They think by speaking the words of God or by pronouncing His name that
somehow their voice is magically transformed into His Voice or their authority
into His own. Wizards are often more
entertaining than jesters or clowns.
"If I close my eyes and concentrate,
I can sense all the seas, lakes, and streams of magma which exist within the
earth. Oh, I have tried to share my
wonder and the inferno of my exuberance with those who dwell on the surface of
the world. But it is useless. Their minds are too narrow. Their hearts are too closed.
"They see the stars at night. The feel the heat of the sun by day. They melt metal with their fires and cook
meat on the hearth but they are afraid of the fire within the earth. It is too close, too fierce. They push it out of their minds. They do not allow their feet to reach down
like the roots of trees into the silence and the depths lest they discover in
the darkness beneath them a passion greater than they can imagine.
"The great bards will not speak of
me in a song lest they risk being drowned in an abyss without entrance or
exist. And so even at night when your
race falls asleep I am unable to appear in your dreams. Even the tongues of flame with which dragons
speak in your fairy tales and myths neither hint at nor reveal a trace of my
existence. I dwell within a realm
well-hidden beyond human reach or belief."
The contest in an interaction like this
with a primordial power hinges on whether or not the mortal can find in himself
the power or beauty of nature that is arrayed before him. In my fairy tale, He’adra at least seems to
accomplish this. He was so open and
clear that Pyrhum felt at home and like a friend in his presence. The test, in
this case, is that you can not know the essence of a wonder until that wonder
is fully alive within yourself.
I will
discuss a similar kind of psychological battle with which I have at least some
familiarity. There is an interesting
psychological test that individuals sometimes undergo, especially those who
have to deal with power. It is very
simple actually and we can express it as a question: When you are helpless,
vulnerable, and approaching complete despair, to what extent do you embrace the
negative in order to retain your hope?
Now some individuals have their faith and
beliefs and so they consider themselves to be free of this test. Their faith
does not permit them to despair. But
such individuals I have noticed still have not dealt with their fears and the
threat they feel from the things they fear.
Such individuals, from my perspective, fail the test by refusing to take
it. By contrast, when Christ on the
cross asked, “Why hast thou forsaken me?” without giving into despair or fear
and without getting an answer, he demonstrated how to pass the test.
There are many who are oppressed, abused,
and subjected to great injustice. Some
of these individuals turn into a
Gandhi, a Mandela, a Martin Luther King, or a George Washington. Others turn into bin Laden, Saddam Hussein,
or Napoleon.
What is interesting is that the oppressed
are not necessarily more just, righteous, or kind than their oppressors. Once those who were oppressed gain power,
they can be much worse. There are those who do not wish to be healed or to be
free of their suffering. They seek
instead to drag others down into their pit of horror or else, once they gain
power, to subject others to the suffering they have been through.
The liberal imagination can not comprehend
this: there are some kinds of malice that not only have supernatural depth and
power. They also have supernatural protection.
They can not be rehabilitated or reformed. Their influence can only be displaced by incorporating in oneself
a greater will and power. To deal with
malice, love must walk hand in hand with justice.
There is a fairly easy rule of thumb that
I suggest can be used to tell in advance if when the oppressed gain power,
whether or not they will turn out to use their power in a just manner or
whether they will continue the same kind of injustice to which they were
subjected. This is done by asking when
they are powerless, do they rage, complain, and blame? Or, do they speak of a better world in which
everyone shares responsibility and in which they have a specific contribution
to make--such as sharing their dream, embodying lawful change, or making one
code of justice available to everyone?
One response to despair and helplessness
is to grasp after and depend upon radical ideologies to justify what are
otherwise fairly accurate descriptions of problems even if these problems have
no apparent solutions. Ideologies are
fake fairy tales. They imagine evil to
be outside of us and solely concentrated in other people and institutions. Karl Marx did this. He had a fairly accurate description of the
injustice that is inherent in capitalism.
But he invented a communist utopia, a utopia that had no basis in
history other than perhaps very briefly in the early Christian church. Karl Marx failed the test. The vision he presented grew out of hatred
and rage.
There is a psychological aspect to this
test. There is a “space” in which you have to become as nothing in order to
survive. In a psychological method
called focusing (See Eugene Gendlin’s Focusing), one of the steps
involves opening to a listening space.
After careful preparation, you ask a personal question and then you
“open” to an answer. You let this
answer come to you from your body and the realm of instinctual wisdom that is
within you. (See the essay on my web
site called Magic and Focusing.)
To open and to listen, however, require
you to let go of your thinking. You
have to put off to the side everything you expect and anticipate. For a brief or extended period of time, you
have to become as nothing otherwise the impressions or intuitions that arise in
response to your question can not appear.
The
psychological price for opening in this way (for having the purity and depth of
your vision tested) is not cheap. Recall that Napoleon
complained that people wanted him to be like George Washington. They wanted him to succeed militarily and
then peacefully turn over the reigns of power to a civilian government. This Napoleon refused to do. He had that character flaw of being
possessed by his own visions of success.
This is because he could not imagine a Europe that was not governed top
down by the power of will. Liberty and
equality were words that he used, but he could not imagine a world governed by
anyone but the few.
By contrast, George Washington fought for
eight years not surrendering even when it looked absolutely hopeless. He knew a secret and he had a brilliant
military plan: all he needed to do was to keep his army alive long enough until
England went bankrupt. In spite of a
few military victories, Washington knew he was fighting a war of
attrition. This requires not only wit
and will, stamina and endurance but absolute faith in his cause. He has this
faith. Do you want freedom, autonomy,
and independence? You want to overturn injustice and right what is wrong? Then pay the price at least according
to what Washington paid: absolute faith
in your cause.
In May, 1782, Colonel Lewis Nicola on
behalf of the army officers complained about the way Congress had been treating
them. He asked Washington to become a
monarch to make right these wrongs.
Here was the same test in another form.
Washington refused. There was no doubt in Washington’s mind
about the purpose he served and self-aggrandizement or instituting a monarchy
which he had just spent eight long years fighting against was not what he was
after. And unlike Caesar who had
Alexander the Great as an ideal, Washington had the idea in his mind to be like
a great Roman general. When the Roman
Senate required a Roman general to exercise the powers of a military dictator
in order to solve some problems, one general came out of retirement and
succeeded with his armies. But then he
lay down his power preferring to tend to his orchards rather than take
advantage of his fame and fortune.
Still, the faith and conviction Washington
exercised was not easy to attain. He
was often discouraged with as many soldiers deserting as quickly as others
joined. In 1776 he wrote, “Such is my
situation that if I were to wish the bitterest curse to an enemy on this side
of the grave, I should put him in my stead with my feelings...”
In this statement, Washington is touching
on a special aspect of the nature of faith, of why faith at a time of complete despair is so incredibly
powerful. To attain to it, to enter a
divine presence or feel some source of inspiration that governs all power
within yourself, you must enter and
cross through an abyss. This
inspiration has no limitations or reference points which define it in terms of
space or time. There is nothing you can
cling to or attach yourself to insure your security or identity.
You must be able to stand free of all
desires and all the needs of your personal identity. Otherwise, you sense that
your very self is being annihilated.
Perhaps there are times when an individual’s identity is so radically
altered it is the same as being destroyed.
Nonetheless, Washington did not panic, blame, rage, or accuse. His heart did not turn brittle, cold, or
dark. Washington passed the test.
Cornwallis and other British generals
might have been a little more careful to ask themselves, “How do you defeat an
army which constantly retreats so you can not destroy it but also attacks you
when you least expect it? How do you
defeat people who go on fighting without food or blankets and who are so short
on shoes they leave trails of blood in the snow where they have walked?” But then again, Cornwallis was one of the
greatest generals in the greatest army on earth. Being spiritually tested was not part of the equation under which
he was operating.
The test, then, requires an individual to
remain alert and open in the face of the unknown future that has yet to
unfold. It forbids panic and fear. And it is essential to not try to make the
anxiety or confusion dissolve before it has accomplished its task--to enable
something completely new to be born.
Those who complain, rage, and
blame cling to the past. They are
unable to let go enough and to penetrate the unknown to the extent that they
and the world around them transform.
When
I write about nature spirits, I often ask them to share with me their
dreams. They often speak about wanting
to become something that is impossible for them. But they do not despair.
In their dreams, they attain to what they seek. They see, feel, taste, and embrace the
reality of which they dream. They know
that the beauty and magic in the elements of nature are reflections of
something divine and without limitation.
The sylph Cargoste says that he dreams of
becoming one with the breath of every living
being. The undine Istiphul says
that she wishes to become the essence of love.
She also turned the question back on me and persisted until I shared
with her also my deepest dream. The salamander Pyrhum says that he wishes to
become cloaked in a fire and a light as bright and as radiant as the sun.
Itumo is another salamander who
specializes in lightening. He has
mastered it to a degree that human science can not yet conceive. I had a discussion with Itumo one time about
how he acquired his abilities. Itumo
seems to feel a special affinity for
me. At one point, he also turned the
conversation around and pointed the question back at me.
Itumo: "I can expand my aura to
encompass a thunderstorm as easily as you can command your fingers to form a
fist But you want to know, don't you,
how I create lightning where no electricity flows, where there is no polarity
or differential in potential charge? It
is very easy. I just imagine what I
want and then it comes to be."
"Yes, yes, but how did you learn
that?" I ask. "After all, to
develop a magical will you must already have been aware of the magic within
you. Where did you start? What was your beginning?"
Itumo replies, "There was a time
long ago when I was small and insignificant.
Causing lightning to strike was beyond my ability. I was so weak I could not cause a spark to
leap. Neither atoms nor molecules would
listen when I spoke. The attraction
they felt for each other was beyond my perception.
"Yet even then I was still what I am
now--an intelligence with the will to master electricity. My commission was also the same as now: to forge paths where none exist between
mind, matter, and spirit. I conceal the
mystery of how to gather strength in silence until the power that is unleashed
is great enough to cross every gulf so the desires of the heart can be
fulfilled. The silence that cloaks my
will is the same silence woven into the sky that holds the stars within a vast
embrace of stillness."
"Then did you develop your power on
your own?" I ask.
Itumo replies simply and to the point,
"There are times when you must act alone for there are no guides
provided."
Itumo and I just stare into each other's
eyes measuring the depths and how we have explored silence in our separate
ways. Itumo says, "Because
something is simple it does not mean it is easy. I am saying you already know how to enter a place of silence
where the only thing that exists is your vision and the power of your own
imagination."
"Yes," I reply with a slow,
questioning intonation, "but what is that precisely?"
Itumo says gazing into my memory, “For
you, this occurred during the loneliest moment in your life. It was not derived from the cold numbness of
despair or the sorrow of being an outcast.
It occurred when you realized that the one you loved the most was gone
forever from your life.”
Itumo gave me this poem as a statement
regarding the power he has attained through having faith in his dreams.
Do
you know what its like when lightning strikes?
In
an instant the earth and the sky unite:
The
tree, the flowing stream, the hilltop, the rock--
Their
hearts burst so that the thirst of the cloud for the earth
Might
be satisfied.
Do
you know what it is like inside a thunderstorm?
A
sea of rain, froth of mist, and vapors churning
Electricity
building
Passions
locked in a frenzy, intensifying,
Power
exalting in strength and beauty
Uncoiling
within itself
Until,
unable to be contained,
Ecstasy
takes flight upon the wings of freedom.
Do
you know what it is like to explode
From
the core of your being--
To
be a flame of white light
Reaching
down from the sky
And
rising up from the earth
And
to celebrate this art within your heart?
I
will tell you:
It
is bliss unafraid of emptiness
It
is love unafraid of loss
It
is desire burning so hot
It
annihilates the shadows within the lover's heart.
Wherever
there is an abyss, a chasm, or a gulf
Within
nature, between one heart and another,
Or
separating mankind from the divine--
My
joy and delight will suffice
To
pierce and shatter the darkness of any night
So
you may find the path across.
In
my mind, Itumo is one of those who have passed the test when it comes to moving
from a place of being insignificant and without perception to a place where the
power you possess is expressed with beauty and love.
9. Is it
normal and okay to escape reality by use of fairy tales?
Quoting
from Children’s Literature, page 170, “Children need fantasy in their
lives: Even very young children who are protected from fairy tales and exposed
only to informative literature invent their own fantasies, which include many
of the same characteristics as traditional folktales.
“Ability to understand make-believe is
linked to development, and children exhibit a wide range of individual
differences in acquiring this ability.
Five-year-olds generally are still developing concepts of fantasy and
realism, while 7- and 9-year-olds ordinarily have acquired these concepts. Some children are still confused about
fantasy and reality as late as age 6: Many 6-year-olds recognize that
Cinderella is not real, though they tend to think that she once lived, and some
73% in one study were uncertain whether story characters and events were real.”
Imagination
and fantasy are probably as necessary to a healthy personality as dreaming at
night while asleep is required in order for the mind to function. In the Stolen Child by W. B. Yeats, the
lines of the poem go,
Come away
oh human child
To the
waters and the wild
With a
faery hand in hand
For the
world’s more full of weeping
Than you
can understand.
Yeats
seems to be suggesting that within fairy is a chance to sleep and to
forget. There is something within
nature and within ourselves that bids us to depart from the world as we know
it, to no longer participate in the struggle and the conflict.
In Carl Jung’s Symbols of
Transformation, a woman in therapy recounts a series of dreamlike
images. These images, dreams, and
poetry are fantasy. But fantasy is not
chaos. It has its own dynamics and
logic. Upon such a journey, even into
fantasy, if the individual remains alert, attentive, and questioning,
consciousness develops. It extends
itself and it transforms.
An old man once asked the Buddha if there
was a shortcut to enlightenment. Since
the man was old, he was unable to practice the austerities of monastic
discipline. The Buddha replied,
“Imagine that everything you experience is a dream.”
The Buddha is not telling the old man to
consider everything as unreal and an illusion.
He is saying instead to be detached; and be ever so curious so that you
come to see the way in which things appear to be substantial, real, stable, and
enduring and yet they are not. In other
words, probe the fantasy (and assumptions about reality) and you will see
through it and discover the truth.
Similarly, there is a story Carlos
Castaneda tells in his series of books about the Yakui sorcerer Don Juan. In the story, a witch constructed a mosaic
on a floor of a room that was designed to possess and to destroy Carlos. Upon entering the room, however, Carlos
immediately noticed the mosaic and gave it his full, undivided attention. He got down on his knees and examined
it. He was fascinated by every aspect
of its intricate design and its mesmeric power. The destructive spell within the mosaic could only work by attacking
Carlos on an unconscious level. But
this it could not do since Carlos had become completely conscious of it in
every aspect.
You take an obsession, a fascination, an
addiction, or a craving and you study it in every facet. You add to this the knowledge and experience
of others in this area. There is a
point at which the individual becomes free or else perhaps wise.
It is not the escape from reality that is
dangerous. It is the choice to no
longer be conscious, to deny the conflict and to fail to explore the options.
When things are very difficult in daily
life, fantasy offers a chance to gain some distance and renew oneself before
entering again the arena of conflict. Obviously, it is possible to go too far
in escaping. But the escape is often a
mode of protection. The dream, the daydream, the illusion, the fantasy--these
preserve a part of ourselves that we may wish to keep alive and which are
threatened by the pressure and demands of our world.
There is a healthy balance in which
entertainment, withdrawal from the world, and inner renewal have an important
part to play. Each individual must find
his or her own balance in regard to withdrawing from the world in order to
unwind, to rest, relax, and to recuperate, and to become renewed.
In Tibetan Buddhism, which appeared about 1,200
years after the Buddha, the approach is for the individual to dress up the
inner self in the imagery of kings, queens, gods and goddesses. The practitioner visualizes and imagines all
sorts of wondrous beings and he or she becomes these beings. The practitioner gets a feel for what it is
like to be a god, to be perfect, and to exist without limitation. It enables a brief and imaginary experience
in which every craving is satiated. But
it does not stop here at complete withdrawal from the world. The practitioner puts aside and dissolves
all these imaginary images and gets on with life.
To be enlightened is to see the world as
it is. But within one’s own body, soul,
mind, and spirit, it is important to know what it feels like to be a king or
queen, to have sovereignty over all your desires, drives, and passions so that
you can give order and set priorities.
Some people have a hard time setting aside the imagery that has helped
to motivate them and bring order to their lives. They apply their beliefs to situations and the world around them
without first having built in a truth function that overrides and keeps those
belief in their proper place.
The escape from the world into fantasy is sometimes
not just a conflict that takes place within the soul of the individual. It is sometimes a cultural conflict. In this case, the individual may have only a
small part to play. His or her contributions
may be minor or major but hardly ever complete. This conflict takes not a few years or a lifetime to unfold. It
takes centuries if not millennia. I
will indulge myself by citing a poem I wrote regarding the conflict between the
realms of fairy and that of reality.
St.
Patrick you recall was credited with driving all the snakes out of
Ireland. He also took a harp away from
a bard, you know, because music so beautiful can mislead the soul.
I read this poem to an adult and she did
not understand it but the children who were listening understood every word.
St.
Patrick and the Elves
St.
Patrick met a bard one day
And
hearing him play
St.
Patrick exclaimed:
"The
notes of your harp
Are
the same as heaven's own art
Except
for one thing--
They
are a little too much elvin."
And
so St. Patrick took the bard's harp away
And
put it in the corner of his room.
But
late that night when St. Patrick fell asleep and dreamed
The
cold wind from the sea swept into his room
And
when the wind touched the harp's strings
Little
elfin men came out of the harp
And
filled up his room.
Then
St. Patrick woke with a start
And
cried aloud: "I know not the bard's art
How
to send you back home
To
the fairy realms from which you come.
What
am I to do with you?"
And
they replied:
"Only
a saint can see us.
To
all others we are invisible.
Let
us go free so we can play:
In
your world by the light of day
The
rainbow sparkles in delight
And
by night the sounding sea
And
the breeze in the tree
Sing
as sweet as any bard's enchanting melody."
And
St. Patrick, with so many elves cluttering up his room,
Said
in reply:
"I
would be willing to give it a try
If
you will serve the church for me.
You
see, we on earth are not idle or carefree
Instead,
we do work for God's glory.
You
there, yes you, with the pale hands and long fingers
What
useful thing for the church will you do?"
And
the little elf said:
"I
can take a heart broke in two
And
mend it again
So
that it shines like the moon."
And
St. Patrick said:
"And
you there with the pointed red cap
How
about you?"
"I
can take a little boy
And
show him how to fly a kite in the sky
With
stands from a vine and leaves from a
tree
Carefully
entwined, for this is a toy I have designed.
And
not only that, I can teach a child to tie his shoe
Or
to find his way home again when he is lost in the wood;
All
of this I will do for you."
And
St. Patrick said:
"And
you there standing behind my table with your eyes so shy?
Do
you also make toys that fly?"
"No,
but I can teach your scribes
To
draw bright colored letters of red, gold, and blue
With
dragons and unicorns dancing through
So
that learning to read and write
Will
be a pleasure and a delight."
"And
you with your head leaning against my wall
What
is your where with all?"
"I
will show monks and men
To
ferment hops and honey
So
that beer and mead
Teach
the tongue to let go of dark secrets--
Then
the sadness in men's souls will be banished."
And
St. Patrick, who could tell right from wrong,
Was
also a practical man.
He
knew as well as me or you
That
some things you just have to do.
So
he let the elves go
And
the people in that land
Were
more happy and holy.
But
a month later when the moon was dark
The
harp did spark
Its
strings flared with fierce flames emerald and green
And
in the room stepped a fairy queen
Elegant,
radiant, and gorgeous.
Her
eyes were full of starlight
And
her hair was blazing red.
And
when St. Patrick saw this sight
He
said:
"You
are so lovely the sky and the sea
Can
not compete with your beauty.
Your
face and grace outshine the sun and the moon.
But
I can not let you go free.
You
would haunt my people in their dreams.
They
would return to worshiping trees in groves
And
to pray among standing stones."
The
elvin queen replied:
"St.
Patrick, you know as well as I do,
You
can not keep me here with you.
My
beauty is too great
Even
you would lose your faith
And
no longer desire to see God's face.
Let
me go free and I promise you
I
will take from the shores of your land
All
the snakes of Ireland.
You
see, every creature of sea, wind, and land
Obeys
my command.
The
snakes will follow me home
To
the Blessed Realms where I will go.
For
only a saint as great as you is free to choose
To
remain on earth to do God's will
And
not fall under my enchantments.
But
in another age men will find a way
To
sing God's praise and capture Beauty in one song
And
this they will do both to honor God's glory
And
for the sake of Love."
Now
St. Patrick was not only a practical man,
He
was also wise and so he said:
"Go
in peace my child.
Do
this work for the sake of the church
And
I will search my heart
To
see if your prophecies are true or not."
And
when St. Patrick awoke the next day
All
the snakes from Ireland had gone away
But
his heart informed him he had made a mistake
To
let the maiden of Beauty depart.
Though
he tried to call her back
St.
Patrick knew not the bard's art.
And
so the land of Erin still awaits the day
When
men will come forth no longer ashamed or afraid
To
join in one song God's praise
With
the Blessed Realm's Beauty and Love.
10.
Certain "childhood deadly sins" are overcome by use of fairy tales,
please explain how a child is able to use a fairy tale to stage a secure battle
scene?
I have
some problems with this phrase, “childhood deadly sins.” If this refers to the seven deadly sins such
as gluttony, sloth, envy, etc. I would consider these to be vices and not
sins. They are not usually deadly and
they definitely have very little to do with childhood. It is tempting to impose on any ambiguous
material an ideological or even theological interpretation.
A more serious attempt at interpretation
must draw the catergories used for describing the material from the material
itself. When depth psychology refers to
the shadow in fairy tales, the “shadow” is so obviously a term drawn from an external
and foreign interpretative system that it is quite clear that the fairy tales
are being used as examples to illustrate a point. There is no shadow in fairy tales just as there are no deadly
sins in fairy tales.
Nonetheless, interpretation can not be
escaped. Everyone reads a fairy tale
according to their own experience, background, and conceptual bias. If someone wishes to reduce fairy tales to
stories made up or misconstrued as a story is retold, then they can do so since
this line of interpretation fits their naturalistic assumptions. And in specific cases they may be accurate.
On a hot day, I can imagine myself at the
North Pole, that is, I visualize myself standing on an icy plane with a cold
wind blowing and within two seconds my body will begin to involuntarily shiver
in response to the imagery. If I
imagine myself at the beach, within a half second I can feel the spray on my
face and taste the salt in the air. If
I want to see a unicorn, instantly the walls of the room I am in vanish and
about forty feet away a unicorn is standing in a clearing.
I have experience with an trained
imagination. My experience enables me
to easily imagine other individuals meeting and interacting with fairies as
well as “dreaming” imaginary setting in which I see stories unfolding. Though I do not need to believe in what I
perceive, I am nonetheless aware of the power such images at times
contain.
Some children see spirits. Some see auras. Some see ghosts. Some
have imaginary friends. Some speak with
angels who come to visit them. In
growing up, by necessity, we must pass through a magical domain. Some individuals would act as quickly as
possible to destroy this memory and level of perception by imposing upon it the
demands and rigors of an adult’s responsibility to deal with the “real”
world. Often the way a parents looks at
a child when the child mentions some unusual experience is enough to convince
the child never to speak of it again.
On the other hand, there are those who
wish to sanitize fairy tales, to make them into sweet little stories designed
to help children fall asleep. On the
contrary, fairy tales often contain horrific experiences and terrifying
situations. There are elements such as
betrayal and abandonment, malice, hatred, revenge, deceit, and violence. The range and depth of fairty tales challenge and tax the
interpretative power of any set of concepts.
11. Should fairy tales be classified as literature, psychology, anthropology,
or children’s literature? Please explain.
Certainly
fairy tales are traditionally a part of folk literature. You are doing a paper for AP English on
fairy tales so obviously they relate to English.
Psychologists have been writing about fairy
tales since Freud. They offer us many
fascinating interpretations whether it is Freudian psychology, depth
psychology, or something else. In
transpersonal psychology, the therapist will often tell stories to the client.
The idea of a traditional story is that it
illustrates to the client that his problem is not unique. Others have faced it and discussed it over
the ages and it is usually also a problem the society has to face as much as
the individual.
Anthropologists will quite commonly collect
the traditional stories of the tribes or people they are studying. And since fairy tales are read to children
they definitely qualify as children’s literature.
The main
problem with psychologists is that they assume society is stable--the norms and
standards of society are what the individual must come to accept and work
within in order to function and succeed.
Society is given. It is what the
individual has to deal with.
Psychologists generally do not study the
psychology of reformers and revolutionaries.
Psychologists often do not understand that all institutions and
societies are undergoing change. They
do not understand the transformations that occur within individuals that are
necessary for creativity.
There are no cabinet positions in any
government on earth designated for a psychologist. There is no Congressional psychologist. Psychologists are not
usually in positions of power except over the fate of their patients.
Fairy tales often have kings, queens, and
individuals who are making decisions that change the world. Fairy tales often assist us in
distinguishing between reality and fantasy by focusing on executive decision,
on an act of will, and on the use of power.
These are not areas of the personality and spirit that are particularly
familiar to psychology.
Anthropologists are quite capable of
recording stories and publishing them.
There is a large amount of published material, for example, about the
Hopi Indians that comes from early in the last century. The Indians allowed the anthropologists to
enter their Kivas and observe and take notes on the rituals of the Hopi. What is astonishing to me is how utterly
ignorant these anthropologists were about the meaning and symbolism in the
rituals. In my mind, these anthropologists
not only fail on any test given in regard to empathy, but they also fail on any
test given in regard to imagination.
They are slaves to their preconceptions.
Asking an anthropologist to teach fairy
tales is like asking an mathematician to teach poetry. Though there are exceptions, the mind set is
twisted. There was a discussion between
a panel of anthropologists and Warm Spring Indian tribal leaders in Oregon. The anthropologists were asking questions
like, “Why don’t you write your songs and legends down so that they are
preserved for future generations?”
The elders responded with surprise as this
question. Their response was that “if
you want a song or a vision, if you want to renew and continue the tradition,
then all you have to do is go out among these fields and woods and pray and
meditate and what you seek will come to you.
If you do not understand this, then you understand nothing.” For many people on earth, these “traditional
folk tales” are still alive. They are
told not as words and images with plots and themes that record the
peculiarities of a particular culture.
They are full of power and the life of a people flows through them.
The problem with “children’s literature”
is that we in a modern society have no sense of initiation into the mysteries
of life as was typical in so many ancient cultures from which fairy tales are
descended. There was a joke in the Wall
Street Journal about a child who approaches his father who is reading the
newspaper. The caption at the bottom
has the father saying in response to the child’s question, “No, I don’t have
any esoteric, oral tradition to pass down to you.”
Compare this to the Hopi Indians who
occupy the oldest, continually inhabited village in North America. The Hopi Indians have public dances in which
Katchinas, or spirits, wear masks and perform the dances. During the Hopi initiations for those
approaching teenage years, the Katchinas enter the Kiva and, for the first time,
the children see the Katchinas taking off their masks. The children are confronted with the dancers
not as spirits but men wearing masks.
But it does not stop there where we often
stop--Santa is not real. The Hopi go on.
Each dancer has a sacred mask and the dancer has the power to call a
spirit into himself when he dances. The
myth and the fairy tales are broken and then immediately put back together
again on another level.
It would be as if at age seven or eight our
children are told Santa Claus is not real.
They are confronted with this.
But then, if we were utilizing a traditional system of initiation, the
children were told that Santa Claus is more real than fantasy. The child is then introduced to those
institutions and organizations that embody the true spirit of giving to others
such as the Red Cross, programs for homeless and assistance to mentally ill,
sick, terminally ill, addicts, and those starving and needing medical attention
around the world.
And not only this, but the child would be
introduced to the essence of the motivation that is required to pursue such
endeavors--not just caring and selfless service but the source of inspiration
that empowers such actions. Now
certainly, many ministers, priests, and rabbis will argue that this is
precisely what they do in all of the traditional religions of the Western
world. They offer not a contact with
fairy realms but with God and with the sacred that has been carefully defined
and established over the centuries if not for millennia.
The question is whether or not and to what
extent our traditional religions contain a process of discovery. For centuries, the early church argued,
fought, and battled over the idea and content of one creed, one doctrine, one
belief. In this approach, the
individual’s experience is at most secondary to the needs of the established
church.
Compare this to the Sioux Indians whose
children go on vision quests. They go
by themselves and seek until they gain a vision. The encounter with the numinous is individual and unique. It is first hand experience. You come back from a vision quest as a
different person because you have been introduced to and also immersed in the
world of spirit.
This is perhaps a problem with one of the
assumptions in children’s literature--that the child is meant to be assimilated
into the world of adults and children’s stories help serve this purpose. They are missing that the child’s sense of
wonder and the process of discover are meant to be with all of us forever. The words, “You must become as little
children” does not mean that you should have faith in and be dependent on the
church. The words mean what they say,
that to enter the kingdom of heaven you have to regain the outlook of a child.
When the Hopi elders watch the katchina
dance, they tell me they can “see” whether the spirit of the katchina is
embodied within the specific dancer. In
Hawaii, the teachers of Hula can often tell when the goddess of Hula has taken
over the dancer so that the spirit is present and not just the art.
If
you ask a Hawaiian priest, a Kahuna, if he has seen Pele, the goddess of the
volcano, he will probably respond, “I have see Pele many times.” It is a living myth. Not only that. It spills over to others visiting the Islands. In one children’s literature seminar I
attended, the instructor said that Caucasians should not write about Hawaiian
myths. Her assumption was that the
spirit of the islands are part of Hawaiian culture. It is theirs and it is not really alive. But I have first reports from Caucasians who
have also met Pele.
The issue here is not about belief and
religion. The issue is about meeting
sources of inspiration that are so strong they shock and transform you if you
allow them. This is what
anthropologists and psychologists do not understand--actions and commitment
that transform the world because they are backed up by genuine, timeless,
ageless sources of inspiration.
We could also talk about the philosophy of
fairy tales. There is philosophy of
religion, philosophy of science, political philosophy, and so forth. There is a problem, however, with philosophy
which is the study of wisdom.
Aristotle, for example, is perhaps unmatched in his genius as a
philosopher. He carefully considered
all points of view and the problems those views sought to address. He then integrated the truth within each
separate philosophical perspective and system into a new system that
encompassed all that had gone before.
The idea of a system of concepts that lays the foundation for all the is
known was one of his contributions.
The problem with this approach, with the
Western philosophical tradition, is that it deals with what is known. It is not an approach to the unknown. An approach to the unknown is perhaps better
seen in those who are perpetually on the cutting of edge of knowledge and whose
work is fundamentally involved with the process of discovery.
In 1969, for example, the phrase “black
hole” was coined. It referred to a
phenomenon predicted by Einstein’s theory of relativity but which had not yet
been confirmed. Stephen Hawking bet
another physicist a dollar that the theory would not be proved. When the evidence for the existence of black
holes became overwhelming, Hawking broke into his colleagues office and quietly
placed a dollar bill on top of the desk.
Hawking was able to admit he was wrong and
was able to do so with a sense of humor.
You do not get such flexibility and humor from philosophy. You do it get from fairy tales.
What are fairy tales in a nutshell for
those who wish to classify them? They
are the outer circle, the first taste of the Mysteries--they serve as an
introduction to awe and wonder, to something more powerful than we are.
They are perennial--they deal with the
great issues that will confront the human race as long as it exists in physical
form: How is love balanced with power? What is it like to step into the unknown
where you no longer know who you are? How do you go on when you have lost
everything? How do you recreate your identity when the person you once knew is
no more? Where is our home and what is
it to finally come home? What light continues to shine, to guide, and to
inspire in a place where darkness reigns, where injustice is king? What is the
price of wisdom and the cost of freedom? What is the taste of ecstasy when it
takes hold of every cell in your body?
These are the themes of “fairy” tales and
it is in part why I study and write about fairies. The fairy realms are a place of feeling, dreams, and imagination
through which we must journey if we are to answer these questions and drink in
full measure of the waters of life.
12. Can
you explain a woman’s role in a fairy tale? How does this affect a young girl’s
views of herself?
This is a
rather difficult question. It is like asking, Can you explain Margaret
Thacher’s, Indira Ghandi’s, or Golda Meir’s role in politics? I can say they rose to power in part through
their overwhelming capacities for leadership.
It has nothing to do with them being women. They simply overcame the
opposition and stood out among the other choices.
Did they have to sacrifice their
femininity in order to be leaders or did they have a harder time getting to
where they did because they were women?
I am sure they did. But I also
think you have to do very careful interviews with individual women before
generalizing about women’s experience.
Otherwise, there is the danger of falling into ideological cliches and
activist agendas which are in effect
out of touch with the movement of life.
What is a woman’s role in fairy tales? My first response is to put this into
perspective. I am a man. You are getting a male’s response. You would get a very different response if
you asked a female writer.
According
to the works of Erich Neumann, The Origins and History of Consciousness,
or Carl Jung’s, The Symbols of Transformation, (male writers again)
historical consciousness was not the same as we know it today. Several thousand years ago, the feminine was
the dominant influence upon civilization in terms of its archetypal
presence.
This is to say that the forces governing
the world were vague, undefined, and it was not possible to become conscious of
them or to direct them. This is rather
like an infant being held in the supportive and comforting arms of its
mother. And yet the nature of the
mother’s mind, her understanding and motives, are largely incomprehensible to
the infant.
Then mankind began to put language in
written form. It began to invent the
idea of history and a chronological time sequence that exists in its own right
independent of eternity. It began to
develop technologies, economic, political, and judicial systems. This is like a child in elementary
school. There is the drive to experiment
with being independent of the mother’s support. But there is as yet no father present who says you can understand
the world on its own terms and take charge of it and master it.
This fragile emergence of consciousness in
which there remains a great dependence upon the vague, undefined, and
mysterious forces of the unconscious or the spiritual worlds, the gods and
goddesses, etc. exists completely independent of whether the specific society
was totally dominated by men or not.
Alexander the Great, the student of Aristotle, was blindly
aggressive. He was a slave to
unconscious forces. There was nothing
self-reflective within him.
He was unaware of the concepts of justice,
lawful order, and the ways to nurture and support a community much less a
community of nations. He was simply an
infant in a controlled and sustained state of rage who had inherited a
brilliant and unequaled military intelligence.
In many of these ancient societies, the
roles of men and women were carefully defined. To simplify, the men led and the women followed. The men ordered and the women obeyed. Men were active and women were passive. There were often deadly consequences for
refusing to comply. Some would have us believe this was a pattern that men
established being more aggressive and physically strong.
According to Jung and Neumann again,
somewhere back about three thousand years ago, something happened. Some women began to feel that we need more
masculine energy and not less. We need
to be free of nature and to understand the mysterious forces controlling
us. The mother whose arms embrace us
all is not always sweet and nurturing.
She is also Hecate and Kali. She devours her children as well.
Being immersed in a mystical, unconscious
union with nature simply causes too much suffering because it is too blind and
the negative is mixed together with the positive. In effect, there was a feminine support for the rise of masculine
consciousness--a masculine consciousness which at the time, as I have suggested,
was analogous to a young child’s dependence on its mother. As yet, it had no capacity to stand on its
own.
Though women have no doubt suffered under
the rise of male domination over the last three thousand years, the feminine
itself was getting something it wanted.
What could the feminine instincts and archetypes possibly of wanted that
would have led it to persuade women to submit to men? It wanted neither an Alexander the Great with his blind
aggression and desire to dominate. Nor
did it want an Orpheus with his effeminate, poetic, and receptive capacities.
It wanted men to become friends and lovers
instead of little boys dependent on the goddess of nature--nature who embraces
all equally in her arms without any of her children becoming brilliant,
radiant, and as inexhaustible in energy as the sun. The feminine wants a real lover equal to her in power but
different so there can be a real union with the resulting creativity.
It is wonderful that as a society we are
rapidly moving toward equality. Gender
roles are no longer rigid and they are gaining the natural flexibility that
they always possessed. But fairy tales
never forgot the underlying purposes unfolding in history. In a fairy tale, it takes a combination of
masculine and feminine to resolve a problem.
If you want creativity, the two genders
(or the opposites of active and passive, light and dark) have to work
together. It is almost irrelevant as to
which gender is active and which is passive.
Whichever way you arrange or define the genders, it takes both to get
things done.
In that many fairy tales arose in societies
in which women played a passive role, the women often represented the feminine
component in the human psyche. Sleeping
Beauty is asleep. She is way down
there in the feminine unconscious, in dreamland, in fairy land, or moving among
feelings and images outside of society and consciousness. But because she is there, over and over in
the German version men would try to climb over the thorns to get to her
side. It was a very dangerous endeavor
for the men but someone finally made it.
You can read this story in so many
different ways. But however you look at
it she is the one who moved the men to action.
You could set aside the gender issue and interpret this in terms of
transpersonal psychology. In this case
you could say, it is your deepest feelings at the core of yourself that
determine the outcome of your life.
Whether male or female, if you are attuned
to your feelings, you can often tell whether something is right or not for
you. It does not require any
thinking. It is an immediate gut
response. You can save yourself years
if not decades of wasted activities because you do the things that are the most
important for you. You are not confused
by others’ expectations and yet you are willing to work with others because you
can sustain a connection regardless of the conflict that is occurring on a
surface level.
In Hansel and Grettel, it is the
girl who saves the boy. Nevertheless,
if the girl is less active than the boy in most fairy tales, a young girl these
days I suspect can easily say to herself, “I can do what the boy did.” At
least, I hear a lot of women saying this in regard to their lives--I can do
things just as well if not better than the men I know.
It would be interesting to tabulate the
actions of the women in fairy tales in terms of determining the resolution of
the plot. I have not done this. What I do know is that the powers of women
are in no way less than the powers of men.
I think fairy tales are very clear on this point.
13. A fairy tale is a psychological excursion, please explain this statement.
A simple
answer is that fairy tales are a treasure chest of memories. I asked a few adults about what fairy tales
they remember from childhood. They
often would tell me about a fairy tale that is still very vivid in their
minds. Their body language becomes
animated as they speak and they relay the emotions they felt when they were
children with the enthusiasm of a child.
I suspect that a fairy tale is like an
emotional transformer. It takes the
feelings of a child and enables those feelings to go on growing until the child
becomes an adult. And then it enables
the adult to return again and recall both the wonder and the horror of
childhood. The fairy store memories and
feelings of individuals and of cultures as well.
There is a kind of mental exercise that is
used in various forms in many spiritual traditions around the world. A simple version goes like this: you imagine
you are walking down a path in the country or in the woods. You imagine you are really there as much as
you can. And then you are asked to
imagine that you meet someone as you walk or that you come to a cave or a
location of some kind.
You are asked, for example, to meet your
totem animal, a god or goddess, a guide, or some one who will lead you into the
past or into the future and who will offer you a gift or help you solve a
problem. This pathworking has an
element of control. There is a context
and consistency in the imagery. And
there is also a spontaneous element. Something
happens on its own, something that you do not control.
Among other things, the imagery enables an
encounter with the depth of one’s own feelings. You get to think about what has occurred and ask questions about
the flow of images. Sometimes the
imagery generates deep intuitions and new insights.
I think fairy tales operate in this manner
as well. The imagery is strong enough
that the individual is led to confront deep emotions and new insights into
one’s own life may be generated. In
this sense, there is a psychological excursion.
14. Why
is there rarely an active father in fairy tales?
I assume that
your question is well-formulated--that there are not a lot of active fathers in
fairy tales. If this is the case, there
are no doubt many explanations. One
simple explanation, if I can go out on a limb here, is that fairy tales belong
to the world of women (or at least the care takers of children regardless of
gender). Children, to whom fairy tales
are told most often, are under the power, influence, and authority of women in
most cultures and in most cases.
The mother is accessible. There is a chance to connect to her and to
understand her. The father is
inaccessible. The world of the
father--the world outside the home and the family, with its harsh reality and
demands for survival--is not at all something the child is in any position to
understand.
In this brief metaphor or model I am
suggesting that applies to many fairy tales, the father energy or consciousness
(in one aspect in any case) is the destruction of childhood and of fairy tales. Once you understand and connect well to the
father, to reality of the world, then you neither consult with fairy nor are
you dependent on the mother’s affection and attention in order to survive and
flourish.
Instead, you now have a mission, a
purpose, your work, and a task to accomplish.
You have courage, independence, self-reliance, and a state of conviction
in which your self-awareness is aligned with and in harmony with the greater
order of the universe. There is no need
for consultation with others, consensus, binding ties, a support group, or any
kind of love that would compromise the mission you have chosen to fulfill. Some make a huge mistake to assume that this
is the collective world created by men.
The male figure in fairy tales who are often in conflict with the mother
and sisters, represent independence per se and not an order of society, for men
also strive to be independent of each other.
Aligning with a male figure is a way of escaping from the jealousy,
cruelty, and possessiveness of other female figures which there are a great
many in fairy tales.
This is the father mode--a man does what
he needs to do. There is no whining or
complaining. To be angry, to rage and blame others, or to make others
responsible for your limitations or situation is to automatically disqualify yourself
from the real purpose you have to accomplish in life. There are some things life requires of us that take all of our
will and all of the power within us and there is no way to get around it. Fathers know this and it is one of the
reasons they are often so silent and unable to communicate themselves--if they
try to talk about the conflicts they are struggling with inside of them, they
have noticed that they often bring up pain that no one is willing or able to
share or bear with them. It takes the
genius that creates a movie like
For that matter, keeping silence about the
deepest commitments within us is very definitely a form of spiritual
power. There are very few with whom it
is safe to talk with about the essence of your faith and conviction. If others are unable to understand your
words or make fun of you, you risk losing part of your confidence and
commitment. Anyone with power has
secrets.
Consider
some statements from a book on a fairy tale called Iron John, A Book About
Men, by Robert Bly, (Addison-Wesley Publishing Company, Inc. 1990.)
During the early 1980’s, the poetry Robert
Bly mentions that in men’s gatherings he heard one statement over and over
“phrased in a hundred different ways:
‘There is not enough father.’” These
young men found they , and not just women, were suffering from a lack of a
positive and strong male presence in their lives.
Bly goes on, (p.93-94): “During the long
months the son spent in the mother’s body, his body got tuned to the female
frequencies: it learned how a woman’s cells broadcast, who bows to whom in that
resonate field, what animals run across the grassy clearing, what the body
listens for at night, what the upper and lower fears are. How firmly the son’s body becomes, before
birth and after, a good receive for the upper and lower frequencies of the
mother’s voice. The son either tunes to
that frequency or he dies.”
And then Bly goes on to talk about the
father:
“... I
think a physical exchange takes place, as if some substance was passing
directly to the cells. The son’s
body--not his mind--receives and the father gives this food at a level far
below consciousness....His cells receive some knowledge of what an adult
masculine body is. The younger body learns at what frequency the masculine body
vibrates. It beings to grasp the song that the adult male cells sing, and how
the charming, elegant, lonely, courageous, half-shamed male molecules dance.”
But in modern society according to Bly,
the son does not see the father working and the traditional connection to
uncles and other adult males are no longer present. Mothers, no matter how much they try, can not give this soul food
to the son nor can he get it from a female friend.
p. 97: “A father’s remoteness may
severely damage the daughter’s ability to participate good-heartedly in later
relationship with men. Much of the rage that some women direct to the patriarch
stems from a vast disappointment over this lack of teaching from their own
fathers.”
In Iron John, according to Bly, p.
99. “The son finds out early on that his mother cannot redeem his father;
moreover, in most cases, she doesn’t want to.
The only one left to do it is the son.”
And so we have the story of the fisher king and keeper of the Grail who
waits for someone to offer to him a gesture of affection to heal his wounds.
Bly welcomes fairy tales as a healthy and
productive source for trying to reestablish a connection to the father. p. 25. “Eventually a man needs to throw off
all indoctrination and begin to discover for himself what the father is and
what masculinity is. For that task, ancient stories are a good help, because
they are free of modern psychological prejudices, because they have endured the
scrutiny of generations of women and men, and because they give both the light
and dark sides of manhood, the admirable and the dangerous. Their model is not
a perfect man, nor an overly spiritual man.”
Robert Bly is a poet. Poets, with a few exceptions, live in the
world of the feminine. They deal with
metaphor, feelings, images, intuitions, and perceptions. The exceptions are when men of action are
also poets, for example, a king like Solomon who wrote a thousand and five
songs, a general, a CEO of a corporation, an Olympic athlete, etc. The world of the father is a world of
action.
It is not the soft light of the moon at
night where shadows bring forth memories and reflections on water remind us of
desires and dreams. At night, the sharp
edges of buildings and objects fade away and our feelings and sensations draw
near to us and capture our attention.
No, the father is the sun at its height during the day when everything
is perfectly clear, defined, and there is work to accomplish and things to get
done--to change, to transform, and make according to our plans and designs.
Again, with a strong father, there is
little room for fairy--the young lovers are wise enough to figure out who,
when, and how to love. The father
intervenes, as in Shakespeare’s The Tempest, to advice and issue clear
warnings. The lovers have assistance in
overcoming the obstacles that stand in their way and there is no need for a
fairy god mother to help with a magic wand.
And a witch has no chance to destroy because magic does not work in a
world where will can not be undermined or confused by desire, longing,
need, or dream.
To summarize the above line of thought, I
think it is very important not to underestimate the genuine conflict that
exists between reality and fairy tales.
Fairy tales are opposed by the masculine father principle (whatever that
may be). The feminine world, by
contrast, nurtures and supports children who are in the process of acquiring
language and distinguishing between self and others.
This conflict continues without
diminishing even if it is the mother who works and the father who stays home to
raise the child. In such a case, it is
very easy for the mother to switch roles and now to be the one who is
inaccessible and unable to communicate herself to the child. I have seen this over and over. Perhaps in a few decades this will
change. Still, the world as we know it
is the accumulation of sixty thousand years of human history and it has the
same requirements for survival and success no matter which gender sallies forth
to try to conquer it.
One response in trying to recapture the
father is that of Thomas
Moore in his book, Care of the Soul, p. 37. “The world into which we are born “is unique and individual,
always uncharted, teeming with its own dangers, pleasures, and opportunities.
One becomes a father to one’s own life by becoming intimately acquainted with
it and by daring to traverse its waters.”
For my part, again, I like Ursula LeGuinn’s
statement: “We all have many men and women inside of us.” There is a great danger when the male
becomes too masculine and out of contact with the feminine and vice versa when
the feminine loses contact with the masculine.
The genders then become twisted, inflexible, and destructive rather than
healing and creative.
The remedy I see is to explore more fully
the psychology of image and the practices related to training the
imagination. By contrast, we live in an
extremely extroverted world. Protestant
Christianity, for example, is the only religion in the history of the human
race to have no spiritual training system.
With a few unproductive and non-influential exceptions, Protestants have
no traditional practice in which they can sit still for a half hour or longer
and study, develop, and explore their feelings, their minds, their soul, or
their spirit on their own terms.
On the other hand, at one point, three
per cent of the Protestants in England were responsible for producing fifty per
cent of the nation’s production. It is
not called the Protestant Ethic for nothing.
Protestants have a very strong sense of the father and of reality.
Conservative Protestants, as is now
occurring in some cases with the Harry Potter books, vehemently oppose fairy,
magic, Halloween, and any references to the these images. Some good Fundamentalist Christians are
currently burning the Harry Potter books while they stand around the fire
singing Amazing Grace.
Their religion, again, is one of the sun
in which everything is well-defined, clear, and dedicated to productivity. They are terribly afraid of the night and of
the beauty and power within the feminine.
One Christian minister even went to far as to say that when Harry
Potter’s mother sacrificed herself for her son, the book was trying to replace
a male God with a Goddess image. Such
fear (and anger) blinds and distorts what it sees.
Many have suggested that Christianity has
tried to destroy altogether the literature of fairy tales over the last two
thousand years. This culminated in the
death of millions during the Inquisition and events such as a Catholic Bishop
ordering the complete destruction of the collective writings of the
Mayans. All but three of the Mayan
books were destroyed.
Shakespeare attempted to reconcile the
opposites of the realm of magic with that of reality in his last play, The
Tempest. The strong father figure,
Prospero, utilizes forbidden magic to resolve political injustice. When the conflict is over, Prospero declares
that it is time to put aside the magic and return to the duties of ordinary
life. But injustice always
remains. Shakespeare could only touch
the surface of the theme of spiritual power being directed consciously for the
sake of a good end.
J.R.R. Tolkein also presents a powerful,
elder male figure in the wizard Gandalf.
But even Gandalf knows full well the temptations of seeking and using
absolute power. So he turns to the more
innocent, child-like Hobbit, Frodo, to bare the weight of carrying the power
that can control the world. But one
picks up this power only to keep it from those who would abuse it. Like Shakespeare, it must be set aside and
destroyed so that normal life can survive.
In Tolkein, the influence of fairy must diminish so that the world of mankind
might develop.
When I asked Robert Bly at a seminar at
the University of Michigan in 1971 about the relation of magic to poetry, he
denied that there was a connection.
Magic, he said, relates to incantation.
As I mentioned in my poet, St. Patrick and the Elves, we have a
very long way to go before we have resolved the conflict between the
necessities and duties of reality and those that the heart require us to
accomplish.
For me, every mode of sensory perception
is full of wonder, magic, and mystery.
The politician, the theoretical physicist, the advertising executive,
and the general as well as the poet all use reframing and imagery to accomplish
their separate purposes. The five
senses can turn inward or outward to reinforce and to amply the
imagination. They can be used to create
or they can be tools in the hands of the assassin. But there is no way to get around the power of imagination. Imagination is more than the magical wand in
the Tempest and far more than Sauron’s ring in Tolkein. It is one of the tools used by the heart to
reconcile all opposites.
For myself, I have written several fairy
tales in which the father is very active (See The Dragon and the Knight
and Wind Elves). The father
figure facilities others use of their imagination. He guides them into the world of fairy and magical animals
without compromising the reality principle or the need to grasp the world as it
is.
I do not see a problem with the opposing
principles of day and night, of masculine and feminine, and of reality and
magic. There is only one world and it includes every aspect of fairy, dream,
longing, desire, and ideal as well as every aspect of reality, science,
technology, and industry. The themes of
justice, fair play, problem solving, and caring for others remain constant no
matter whether you explore the inner or the outer worlds.
Gradually, perhaps in the next few
decades, we will meet something that has been very rare in the Western
world--men of great power and knowledge who are also sensitive to and celebrate
the rhythms and the images that animate the soul. Then fairy tales will no longer be so carelessly exploited by
shallow psychology or ravenous ideologies that feel compelled to rewrite the
classics to justify their angry agendas.
Instead, fairy tales will be presented more along the lines of what they
are (and what Socrates could not imagine)--gates that open a way for the
individual to explore him or herself.
15. Can
you give an example of power struggles between genders in fairy tales? How
would this affect a child’s view?
I really do not know how a child’s view is
affected by the power struggles between the genders in fairy tales. Hopefully, children acquire a sense of humor
and appreciation for the honest give and take that is part of any relationship.
As I have mentioned earlier, in fairy
tales the male can represent the principle of independence. Against this principle stand the sisters and
the mother who may bitterly resent the male’s interference in the social/communal
bond that women have forged through get sacrifice with each other. In Sleeping Beauty, again, it is the
adult female figure and the sisters who seek to keep the young woman a slave in
the house that they maintain.
In the Greek Mystery Religion, Demeter, the
goddess of the earth, throws the world into perpetual winter because she is
mourning the loss of her daughter, Persephone, to Pluto who has carried her
off. Zeus sends Mercury to negotiate with
her and he succeeds. Persephone will remain
with Pluto three months of each year and during this time winter shall
reign.
In another story, Zeus and Hera were arguing over who gets the
better deal out of sex. They turned to a mortal, Homer, to resolve their
conflict because Homer was the only person to have ever been both a man and a
woman. When Homer said that women have
the better deal, Hera in anger blinded him.
But Zeus, as compensation, gave Homer the gift of inspiration. And so what does Homer write about? He writes about the Greek and Trojan war
which originated because three
goddesses were arguing with each other over who was the more beautiful.
There are countless conflicts between the
genders in fairy tales. In the Fisherman’s
Wife, the fisherman gains magical wishes which his wife uses for
self-aggrandizement. In A Thousand
Nights and One Night, the young woman must not only prove her love but
somehow manage to survive the wrath of an insane husband. The man’s only wish is to kill any woman who
he might love so that he never again has to suffer betrayal. But the woman knows a way to survive and
restore his sanity. She plays upon his
curiosity which is stronger than his pain and his wrath.
In the
story, Sir Gewain and the Green Knight, Sir Gewain had to marry a very
ugly women in order to save Arthur’s life and gain the answer to the riddle:
What do women want from men? The answer
is that they want a man who has the power to command them but who also
continuously offers them freedom of choice.
In my poem, The Wizard and the Lady,
the wizard is upfront and to the point.
He tells the woman he needs her sensual beauty to perfect his magical
art, for there is no greater power in all the world than a man and a woman
joined in love. The woman replies that
she already has gold and silver, diamonds and emeralds. There is nothing he can offer her.
And furthermore, she would not even
respond if it were a god such Krishna or Orion (both renowned for their love of
women) who was making the offer. She is already independent and complete and a
masculine presence in any form would compromise her freedom. Still, there is one condition under which
she might consider his offer--if he can overwhelm her heart then she just might
reconsider. There is no father, sister,
mother, witch, or dragon that serves as an obstacle to their love. The negotiation is direct and the magical
demonstration must be completely overpowering.
In Tolkein’s version of Orpheus and
Eurydice, Beren seeks the hand of Luthien in marriage. Here it is the girl’s father who must be
placated by Beren acquiring a Silmaril from the crown of Morgoff. In the fairy tale, Kagu Hime, again,
it is the girl’s father who the girl knows will accept nothing short of a
miraculous and divine accomplishment to stop him from taking his daughter back
to his lunar abode. If the male and
female feel genuine love and want each other, then the gender conflict arises
from an external source that, nonetheless, has some sort of claim upon
them.
In the story of Eros and Psyche,
Eros carries Psyche off to his palace.
But her sisters resent this.
They bait Psyche and demand she slay her lover claiming that he is a
monster.
It is not only the sisters who conspire against
the male to end this union. Aphrodite,
the mother of Eros, wishes to kill Psyche because Psyche threatens to take away
her only child. Psyche is getting it from both sides--her sisters and also a
power female figure. The god Pan
suggests to Psyche that she should declare her love for Eros directly to
Aphrodite who is, after all, the goddess of love.
When Psyche does this, Aphrodite requires
that Psyche pass four impossible tests.
As I write, I can hear the feminists telling Psyche to forget it. Is any
man worth the bother? But Psyche senses
the god within the man and it is this god to whom she is bonded. She does not wish to say only, “I have a
boyfriend,” or “a man in my life” who fulfills a social, emotional, and
biological role.
Psyche has a higher vision of love than
even Aphrodite. Aphrodite knows that
relationships with men require sacrifice.
And the relationships only go so far.
A relationship in which the genders see each other for who they really
are is not something Aphrodite could understand. The man takes the woman away from her family, her sisters and her
mother and he isolates her. Children
are the reward and the sacrifice of marrying the man is necessary. In the beginning, there is passion, but in
the end the passion always brings suffering.
Aphrodite will not give her son in marriage to a woman who can not match
her understanding that passion and suffering are one taste.
Psyche passes the four tests and then
passes a fifth of her own design and even Aphrodite is placated by Psyche’s
accomplishments. The path of spiritual
growth for a woman, according to this tale, involves making alliances with men
as well as relying upon her feminine instincts. But in the end, she never forgets what she intends. Psyche understands well the words, “Except a
seed fall to the earth and die, it can not bring forth new life.” She puts her life on the line for the sake
of her love.
Zeus, who represents the order of the
universe in Greek mythology, has himself had a number of unsuccessful love
affairs. And so he recognizes when a
woman has accomplished more than the gods and goddesses when it comes to
love. Zeus raises Psyche up and turns
her into a goddess so that she can marry Eros and take her place among those
who determine fate. Psyche meets the
test of the feminine and she learns from the men. But in the end, it is love she chooses to celebrate above all
else. In doing this, she establishes a
new order on earth, one that transforms both herself and her lover Eros along
the way.
I kind of like this story. It is one of the very few that have come
down to us that does not involve or emphasize the male’s hero’s quest. It is a feminine path of growth and it is
loaded with suggestions and it also turns the world upside-down. Psyche goes further than Orpheus who failed
in his quest upon entering the underworld because he looked back too soon to
see if his lover, Eurydice, was following him.
Orpheus did not have faith in the purpose he intended. Psyche did.
In one of my Mystical Fables, the Prophet A’ia asks
Luna, a tavern dancer, the proverbial question, “What have you learned about
men since you have begun dancing?” Luna
answered, “The only reason a man is interested in a woman is to have sex or
children.”
“Luna,” A’ia said, “What would men say about women that is on
the same level as your description?”
Luna looked into A’ia’s eyes and saw the
mirth and the playfulness and so she accepted the challenge. She replied, “Men would say about women
pretty much the same thing, except that instead of sex, some women want money
and some want children. Do I pass your
test?”
A’ia said, “The first part. Now here is the more difficult question,
“What do men want from women that is behind and underneath the desire for sex
and children?” Without hesitating, Luna
replied, “They want the beauty of women in their lives. They want the oneness sex implies. They want the tender love they see in
children’s eyes. Does it surprise you
that a dancer can match you word for word and phrase for phrase and then go on
to ask the next question the conversation requires?”
“Don’t stop now. You are doing so well,” A’ia answered.
Luna went on, “And so I too have a test
for you. Answer this: “What do women
want from men that is underneath the desire for bread and the blind hunger in
their wombs to bear children?”
A’ia replied, “They want the man’s
strength and power to join with their own to make a home. And in that home they want love to flow
without barriers or boundaries through body and soul.”
One
of the great teachers in the area of conflict resolution was a man named Danaan
Perry. Danaan said that one of the
greatest strategies in conflict resolution is to go to your enemy and ask for
help. Enter the enemies camp and point
out how much you have in common and that you share things with each other that
no one else can understand. Then ask
for the other’s advice in how to fulfill your purposes.
The strategy is so open-hearted and
inviting that it sometimes actually works.
Danaan brought together groups of men and women such as the Catholics
and Protestants in Northern Ireland or the veterans of the Viet Nam and
Soviet-Afghanistan war. He often
discovered that the opposing groups had deeper feelings about being wounded by
the opposite gender than they did about fighting each other. The men could sympathize with the men and
the women with the women even though the same gender groups contained
traditional enemies.
As with Sir Gewain and the Green Knight,
I think sometimes you just have to ask the opposite gender what he or she wants
and give the other the choice as to how to proceed. At other times, as with Psyche, the resolution of conflict
between the genders involves a long journey with many tests. Psyche certainly demonstrates that the
genders have their separate wells from which to drink. But for Psyche, it is a journey undertaken
for the sake of love. If children can
learn things such as this from fairy tales, I think these stories will have
accomplished a great deal.
16.
Unconsciously children project parts of themselves onto fairy tale characters,
please explain how they are able to do this.
Some
children have a high degree of empathy and other children are very deficient in
empathy. If someone nearby begins to
cry, the child may cry too. On the
other hand, if a child who is hurt is crying and another child is suddenly
hurt, the first child may stop crying.
There is an immediate transference
between individuals almost like, “Your pain is my pain,” or, “Oh, maybe this
isn’t my pain but yours.” You can see
adults do this as well all the time. If
one person is happy and another is not, the unhappy person often feels “better”
by saying something that deflates or removes the good cheer of the other. It is not just that misery loves
company. It is that “I feel better now
that you feel worse.” For some individuals,
happiness is a comparable and competitive result.
We all project ourselves onto others or
other things. A woman may be attracted
to a man who is in charge of himself, confident, courageous, dynamic, and
masterful. All of these qualities are
within her as well. A man may be attracted
to a woman who cheerful, vivacious, receptive, sensual, and loving. All of these qualities can equally be found
within him.
You can partner with another who
compliments you and fills in for what is missing in yourself. You can also seek to find these things
within yourself. It may require only a
change in attitude or, on the other hand, a life long quest.
Anything that is dormant and struggling to
awaken within our consciousness is easily projected outside of ourselves. If some feeling is seeking to awaken in an
individual and the individual considers this new feeling to be unacceptable and
forbidden, the individual may repress or deny it. But it is still there and trying to enter the individual’s
mind. What often happens is that the individual
will then project this feeling on to others and consider its appearance in
someone else to be bad or evil. If the
new feeling is something desirable, then the individual may project that
feeling also onto others and be attracted to the other person.
The “evil” often contains an element of truth--it
requires us to be more responsible in some way. And the beautiful often comes with a great price--such things as
sacrifice, death and rebirth, separation and reunion, a long, solitary journey,
for beauty often awakens the feelings and powers within ourselves that are most
hidden.
My point is that projection occurs at all
stages of life. It is easy to see ourselves in others and to interpret others
according to our own experience. This a
normal and healthy process. To fail to
develop empathy results in asocial behavior.
To have too much empathy is to compromise one’s own identity and be
confused about personal boundaries. By
presenting a wide range of characters with complex motivations, fairy tales
enable children to learn both empathy and discrimination.