The International Society for Psychology as the Discipline of Interiority
Psychology has to pass right into the Last Judgment that the “No entry!” entails in order to be “baptized” by it, i.e., permeated by the negation. Only then can it itself be as the Last Judgment or, to put the same thing into less imaginal language, be as absolute negativity.(Giegerich, The Soul’s Logical Life, p. 23)
It was a great pleasure in Toronto to see "old" colleagues again, and to make the acquaintance with new ones as well. Thank you all again for your participation. I would also like to thank David Miller, our honorary member, not only for his inspiring talk and mentorship for the society, but for his valuable comments and feedback during discussions throughout the weekend.
Now that we have completed the Toronto workshop, The Entrance Problem of Psychology, the executive committee is focusing on preparations for the second international ISPDI conference in Berlin. The conference will run three days, July 19th - 21st, 2014 and will be held at the same hotel as last year, the Crowne Plaza Berlin.
You will notice a "Call for Papers" in this newsletter, and we will soon be expanding this invitation to the larger Jungian community and beyond. We encourage you to consider sending in a proposal! The focus for the conference will be the "Psychological Difference," but proposals on any theme conceived within the spirit of PDI will be considered.
We hope to once again meet those of you who were able to come and experience Berlin in 2012, and of course also those who will be coming for the first time. Don't forget to leave time to take in the many historical and beautiful sights of Berlin, some within walking distance of the hotel.
We will be sending out more information soon, so stay tuned!
On behalf of the executive committee,
The Second Conference of The International Society for Psychology as the Discipline of Interiority
Berlin, July 19th -21st, 2014
CROWN PLAZA BERLIN CITY CENTER HOTEL
CALL FOR PROPOSALS ON CONFERENCE PRESENTATIONS
Topic - "The Psychological Difference"
Please check ISPDI website for details as they become available
ISPDI Executive Committee
Highlights of the Toronto Workshop 2013: Entrance problem of Psychology
“with pictures courtesy of John Robertson and Michael Caplan.”
|View more photos on the ISPDI website in the Gallery by John Robertson and Michael Caplan|
Report on the ISPDI Toronto Workshop (July 20th, 21st 2013)
The ISPDI Executive Committee hosted the first of its kind Psychology as the Discipline of Interiority workshop in Toronto on July 20th and 21st 2013. The workshop focused on The Entrance Problem of Psychology. The gathering was less an event of formal presentations and more a workshop space or a place to go to work at deepening an understanding, comprehension, and familiarity with Wolfgang Giegerich’s work of psychology as a discipline of interiority. The two days of the workshop were spent on selected writings and presentations that were relevant to the topic of the workshop. Each segment not only led to a better understanding of PDI, but also to lively interaction and discussions amongst the presenters and participants. Everyone was actively engaged throughout the course of the workshop.
The workshop began with ISPDI President, John Hoedl’s welcoming note, followed by Guest Speaker, David Miller’s keynote address, “We are Always Already There! Why the Entry Problem is a Problem when it is Not,” which emphasized the Entrance Problem of Psychology itself as being a negation that is to be interiorized into itself.
ISPDI Treasurer, John Robertson’s segment titled, “The Entrance to the Entrance Problem,” consisted of reflections on our experiences with PDI; which included “the anatomy of the gate”; and an argument that the PDI position that we are surrounded by soul on all sides is based on Hegelian idealism. The segment, while quoting several of Giegerich’s quotes, made comprehensible the notions of interiority and the “Entrance” to the Entrance problem.
ISPDI Vice-President, Greg Mogenson, presented a seminar, “Entering the Speculative Mind.” Greg explored how the “talking cure,” as psychoanalysis has been called, may be given the form of Hegel’s speculative sentence. Concentrating upon a simple statement made by one of his patients, he showed how its deeper, soul meaning could be disclosed by reading the information given in its predicate as if it were the subject a second time. Reading in this “uroboric manner,” the transformative potential of the utterance was released even as the initial conception of its subject-matter was from within itself changed-up and redefined.
ISPDI Web Discussion Moderator, Peter White, presented “How does Giegerich Do it? The Dialectical Turns and Interpretative Gestures of PDI.” Starting with a summary of the myth of Actaion, the story that is at the heart of the Soul’s Logical Life, Peter took the group through an examination of Giegerich’s four presupposition of myth interpretation by focusing on key quotes and inviting group discussion.
The workshop continued on the following day with Greg Mogenson’s companion presentation titled, “Inwardizing Rilke’s Dog of Divine ‘Inseeing’ Into Itself.” Greg worked with a beautiful passage of Rilke’s in which the poet writes of interiorizing himself into that place in a dog where God, as it were, would have sat when he had finished creating the dog to see that it could not have been better made. Showing by means of a close reading of Rilke’s imagery that his text is not really up to the interiority it describes, Greg demonstrated the difference between imagining images and thinking them, a theme that is at the heart of PDI.
ISPDI Recording Secretary, Samina Salahuddin, presented a workshop, “Jungian Psychology Applied to Itself: Giegerich’s Entrance into PDI.” By reflecting upon the theoretical concepts of Freud, Jung, Hillman, and Giegerich, each psychological thinker’s respective Entrance into Psychology was pondered, leading to Giegerich’s own Entrance into Psychology as a Discipline of Interiority.
John Hoedl presented a segment titled, “the Soul in the Consulting Room.” Through interactive thoughts and discussion, John took the audience into the consulting room of psychotherapy. Giegerich’s stance of negation and absolute-negative interiorization of phenomena, symptoms, and complexes of patients, along with the roles of patient and therapist in psychology as a discipline of interiority, were and introduced and discussed. John spoke about PDI’s comprehension of soul “in” the patient (in a neurosis, for example), “in” the psychologist (who attends to soul in the consulting room), and finally the soul as consulting room itself.
ISPDI Membership Monitor, Colleen Hendrick and ISPDI member, Michael Whan, presented a segment titled, “Entering the Dream Wild.” With an interactive approach, a dream was presented and reflected upon. The session opened with some pertinent Giegerich quotes which served as gatekeepers for the dream phenomenon to be kept in a closed vessel, so nothing from outside could enter, and so the dream could be approached through the spirit of psychology as a discipline of interiority.
Comments made by some of the participants at the workshop event, sheds light on its overall success:;
Harry Henderson (ISPDI member): “The conference was a more intimate experience than Berlin, as more of us came to know one another. From the point of view of psychology, it felt like an interiorizing movement from ‘talking about PDI’ to practicing it together. Soul seemed increasingly to be talking about itself through our work.”
Michael Caplan (ISPDI member): “A heartening and inspiring experience, with a consistently engaged, intelligent, and generous group of people, strong presentations, time for in-depth conversations…and surprisingly good food!”
Julia Jensen (ISPDI member): “The conference as a whole struck me not only by the sincere welcoming of new people, but also by the built-in space to talk about PDI ideas with people who come from different backgrounds. Also, the food provided during the conference was very good.”;
Leila Ryland Swain (ISPDI member): “When I was a child, my father tossed me and my sister into a swimming pool and expected us to learn to swim right there. This was how it felt like, to be plunged into an intense discussion on the works of Wolfgang Giegerich, at the recent ISPDI workshop in Toronto—an intense excitement—but also a sense of confusion beset me. I was a beginner with Giegerich’s work, and so much of the discussion was over my head—at first. But I began to feel comfortable with the people and with the ideas, and although I struggled with the new terminology, I began to grasp—dimly— what essential truths were being discussed. I particularly liked the discussion of the myth of Artemis in her bath and the development of psychological knowing from Freud to Jung, to Hillman, and then to Giegerich. I have been invited to give a small presentation on PDI and Giegerich in Washington (DC) Jung Society in Spring and this conference was an excellent springboard for that task. What I would like to see, included in future discussions, is what kind of impacts the new philosophy has on current Jungian practice. There are so many techniques and concepts that have a deep hold on Jungians that are being undermined and I think it is imperative to try and smooth that transition and to preempt the inevitable negative reactions that will arise. In fact, the question arises: What does Giegerich therapeutic practice look like? Of what does it consist? I am continuing to read and to participate in the web discussions and hopefully will begin to formulate some answers to these questions. And, I will see you all in Berlin.”
The Entrance Problem and Psychotherapy
Wolfgang Giegerich (1998) says of the entrance problem to psychology: “A real psychology of the Self has to start out from the accomplished Self, otherwise there can be no Self-development. … This is an obvious contradiction. But this contradiction is what the entrance problem is all about” (p. 21). Stated differently: “You have to already be there if you want to get there” (p. 21). An apperception of the soul’s logos--as anti-pragmatic, anti-ego, anti-common sense--must already exist. How then do we reconcile this with Giegerich’s statement for the Toronto workshop?
Each time when confronted with dreams, patients & symptoms, myths, cultural phenomena, I start out anew from the standpoint of externality, from the plain of ordinary life, and each time I have to try to work myself slowly up to the level of psychology or into the soul depth of the respective phenomenon.
How can there be a working-up-to psychology if psychology’s precondition is its pre-existence? The answer likely lies in Giegerich’s (2012) observation that the psychologist is such only “to the extent that he is already pregnant with the psychological I from the outset” (p. 304). The work toward the psychological perspective in a given case is “the birth of that which one before was merely pregnant with” (p. 304). Psychology is a giving birth to the psychological perspective the psychologist already is pregnant with.
This is hard enough. But additional problems arise under the fluid circumstances of psychotherapy. How does one find the genuine matter, the prima materia, in the welter of material a patient brings? Psychoanalyst Neville Symington (2012) articulates the issue nicely:
The analysis is the diagnosis of the inner truth. … All that we can be certain of is that the asthma, the obsessional symptoms or the desire to be an analyst is not it. … No patient has ever come to us in a consultation and said, “I have come for analysis because I am unable to love.” The patient comes with a cover-story instead: “I have asthma and I have begun to think that there may be psychological reasons behind it.” So the symptom is a cover for the truth. It is also a hidden sign of the truth for the patient. (p. 4.)
This rich passage could be explored from various perspectives. For our purposes it highlights the problem of the matter of psychology. The reasons a patient offers to account for his or her presence in therapy are not, Symington maintains, the matter. That remains to be discovered.
The matter, alchemically-speaking, is the prima materia--a concept par excellence. It exemplifies thought. Edinger (1994) notes that alchemists’ idea of the prima materia originated in Greek philosophy in reflections on the prime matter of the world. It is a philosophical concept. “The idea of a single, original substance has no empirical source in the outer world. Externally the world is obviously a multiplicity” (p. 10). When the phenomenological diversity of the world encounters the singleness of the prime matter the longstanding philosophical problem of the “one” and the “many” arises. The transition from the phenomenal immediacy of the world to philosophical thought brought with it a sense of unity underlying the world’s diversity that emerges in the philosophical notion of the prime matter. The apperception of oneness is inseparable from thought. It is thought, as singular, expressing its own character, as when Heraclitus observes, “but though the logos is common to all, the many live as though their thought were private to themselves” (DK 22 B 2).
A psychology that conceives of soul as living thought, logos, and logical life is necessarily driven by thought’s own nature to unity, to a prime matter. But not to simple unity. For the moment that we arrive at an understanding of psychological thought as singular, we are immediately thrown back upon the notion that this thought itself is inseparable from diverse phenomena. “[F]or the most part [the soul’s thought] expresses itself in the medium of the imagination, or concretely, ‘bodily,’ for example in the diverse types of works of art and culture” (Giegerich, 1998, p. 125). The soul’s thought “is also emotion and desire and especially, as Jung often insisted, image. Indeed, it is even physical behavior and psychosomatic, even somatic, symptom” (p. 49).
Practical psychotherapy, following the nature of thought itself, likewise binds itself to phenomenological eachness. “I try to be present with such a psychologically-trained consciousness, but otherwise forget theories and approach the patient unprejudiced (as much as humanly possible) in the spirit of Nowness and Eachness” (Giegerich, cited in Casement, 2011, p. 539). This Nowness is so radical that even the psychologist shares its fleeting temporality: “I AM not a psychologist. Each time, again and again, I have to try to BECOME a psychologist from scratch.”
Under such evanescent conditions can there even be a prime matter, a singular reality? To answer this question, we turn to Heraclitus. “All things come into being through opposition, and all are in flux, like a river” (DK 22 A 1), and, “Upon those who step into the same rivers flow other and yet other waters” (DK 22 B 12). Heraclitus observes that flux—evanescent psychic phenomena—belongs to the singular. The (one) river is nothing other than the (many) ongoing movements of its waters. Heraclitus articulates with brilliant simplicity the notion of non-violent dialectical opposition. There is no literal opposition, no literal conflict. Rather, the river is the living, dialectical opposition of eachness and oneness. Its oneness as a river is inseparably bound to the diversity of its flux. The river is its flux.
We can now return to the consulting room. I submit that alongside the psychoanalytic defenses we might also place the philosophical defenses of undialectical “multiplicity” and “oneness.” Into the former category falls the issue-of-the-week patient. One week, it is the persecutory boss, the next week the partner, the next week the car that broke down. Another variant is the in-session narrative that extemporaneously follows a chain of loose associations. There is apparently no phenomenological unity. Into the latter category falls the single-issue patient. Each week brings the same, invariable matter that seems devoid of life or substance. The patient at times even seems unconvinced by it all. One session feels like the previous one. Nothing moves. The one preoccupation kills life, movement, flux.
In both cases, psychology is absent for the simple reason that psychology is inseparable from dialectics, the immanent relationship of the one and many. The prima materia is such a dialectical reality. While the idea of a prima materia facially expresses oneness, it is a sublated oneness that contains its multiplicity within itself. Jung (1956/1970) notes: “Among the best known synonyms for the [prima materia] are ‘chaos’ and the ‘sea,’” (p. 193). Just as “river” is the single, sublated notion of “flux,” so the prima materia is the single, sublated notion of chaos—radical flux. But as lead, the prima materia also is the sublated notion of radical inertia. We might even speculate that what makes for a prima materia is nothing other than one pole severed from its own other: inertia without flux, chaos without form. We are reminded of our two hypothetical patients, the one of with endless issues and the other stuck on the one, dead thing.
How does the entry problem look now? We know that a psychological approach commits itself to the present phenomenon, but the unfortunately the entrance problem is not thereby made easier. What is the phenomenon? If a patient complains of the same problem with the same boss, in the same way, week after week, what of the psychologist’s work with this? Is it also doomed to sameness? If a patient brings a Protean variety of crises must we naively follow each crisis in indefinite progression? Certainly not. At some point the phenomenon becomes itself and its dead repetition (or empty variety). The entry problem to psychology also requires knowing psychologically (soulfully) what the phenomenon is.
How? Here, we encounter two essential notions of Giegerich’s: the feeling function and truth. Giegerich (2012) notes that the feeling function is “an organ capable of discerning differences in the degree of such otherwise imperceptible qualities as depth, dignity, status, rank, and value. It is perhaps comparable to the capability to appreciate the nuances and different depths of different kinds of wines” (p. 207). He emphasizes its objective character and even speculates that feeling belongs to soul itself: “we probably do not go wrong in stating that what Jung calls ‘feeling’ ultimately is the soul view of events” (p. 239). The feeling function can be seen as the soul in the psychologist sensing soul, or lack thereof, in any phenomenon.
The second principle, truth, is closely related to the first. “Truth” in the psychological context may be understood as a phenomenon’s noetic essence or ground. Giegerich sees truth as a veritable motto for therapy. At one level, it involves confessing one’s secrets and lifting repression and denial, “i.e., integration of one’s (unconscious) shadow into one’s self-definition” (Giegerich & Henderson, 2010, p. 299). But more important is “releasing each phenomenon, whatever is, into its truth, that is to say, both into its being true and into the disclosedness (aletheia) of its inner essence, its soul” (p. 299). Giegerich’s reference to the inner essence of a phenomenon alludes to the fact that a phenomenon’s immediate presentation and its truth qualitatively differ. It is an example of Giegerich’s (1998) “allegorical presupposition”--the difference between medium and message—and the psychological difference.
Psychological truth, I submit, is necessarily dialectical, a complexio oppositorum. A phenomenon is other to its truth, but is also its truth’s expression. Psychosomatic asthma is itself (physical, embodied) and its other, truth, meaning (constriction, suppression, lack of freedom), just as “river” (one, stable) is itself and its other, “flux.” That truth has a necessary dialectical character can be seen from Symington’s (2012) remark, quoted earlier. Symington is committed to truth as his standard. In this light, a symptom necessarily points away from itself—but also to itself. “So the symptom is a cover for the truth. It is also a hidden sign of the truth for the patient” (p. 4). I quote Symington, a psychoanalyst, to highlight the fact that a dialectical sensibility does not arise by having suckled at Hegel’s breast—a charge frequently leveled at Giegerich. It arises of necessity the moment one understands phenomena in light of the notion of truth.
Let us return to our crisis-of-the-week patient. Say that this week the complaint is the outrageous traffic ticket he received. The patient brings the phenomenon and the psychologist brings his or her commitment to psychological essence or truth. Psychology is entered in this latest crisis insofar as the psychologist can apperceive the phenomenon’s essence--or that which the phenomenon in its immediacy lacks. The meeting of a phenomenon’s immediacy with its ground is the birth of dialectical contradiction and psychology. The new view of the phenomenon is dialectical in that now it is known as itself (the immediate anger at the ticket) and its ground (a complex).
In this light we can see why Giegerich (1998) insists on the training of the aspiring psychologist’s mind: “The mind needs to learn to easily make the complex logical, dialectical movements required if an understanding is to be truly psychological and if the logical level of soul is to be reached at all” (p. 277). In our example, the traffic ticket must be comprehended both for what it is, and what it is not. Yet, animating the psychologist’s concern, and the entrance problem to psychology in general, is an intangible that might not be taught. Giegerich (2012) reminds us that not everybody can be a psychologist. “To some extent it is dependent on one’s having been reached by the soul in the Real, reached by the ‘the other side’” (p. 314). The entrance problem, in the end, is genuinely a problem. It presupposes already having been reach by the soul--and not everybody has.
Casement, A. (2011). The interiorizing movement of logical life: Reflections on Wolfgang Giegerich. The Journal of Analytical Psychology, 56(4), 532-549.
Edinger, E. (1994). Anatomy of the psyche: Alchemical symbolism in psychotherapy. Chicago, IL: Open Court.
Giegerich, W. (1998). The soul’s logical life: Towards a rigorous notion of psychology. Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang GmbH.
Giegerich, W. (2012). What is soul? New Orleans, LA: Spring Journal, Inc.
Giegerich, W., & Henderson, R. (2010). Love the questions themselves. In R. Henderson & J. Henderson (Eds.), Living with Jung: Enterviews with Jungian Analysts, Volume 3 (262-303). New Orleans, LA: Spring Journal, Inc.
Jung, C.G. (1970). Mysterium coniuntionis. (R. F. C. Hull, Trans.). In H. Read et al. (Series Eds.), The collected works of C.G. Jung (vol. 14). Princeton, NJ: Princeton/Bollingen. (Original work published 1956)
Symington, N. (2012). The psychology of the person. London, UK: Karnac.
Revolt or Revolution? Hillman, Giegerich and the Completion of the Psychological Move
(2nd version; 2013-08-01)
[Author’s Note: The original version of this paper was presented as an unofficial contribution to the ISPDI Toronto Workshop, July 20–21, 2013; this version has been significantly revised, and the original ending cut to serve as the basis for another essay. The author would like to thank Wolfgang Giegerich, Greg Mogenson and John Hoedl for their generous responses.]
There have been several serious attempts to conceptualize the relationship between the work of two very related thinkers, Wolfgang Giegerich and the late James Hillman. Both authors have themselves made efforts in this direction, along with heartfelt statements of complicity and respect, and amongst instances of profound mutual criticism. All of these attempts, including Hillman’s and Giegerich’s (and certainly my own halting tries), have seemed to me somehow unsatisfying, providing no adequate model with which to truly comprehend the similarities and the differences. Given the degree of challenge and the depth of the material, this seems hardly surprising.
Giegerich’s own task, as he sees it, is to “think through to the end” the notions engaged with by Hillman and, more fundamentally, by Jung. But the unfamiliar or less careful reader of Giegerich might take his move beyond Hillman and archetypal psychology, though utterly decisive, to be more of an actual break or departure than it is, despite Giegerich’s frequent reminders of the continuity. I think Stanton Marlan’s paper, “The Psychologist Who’s Not a Psychologist”, was to a certain degree quite successful, and among other sources, I will refer to it below. I will also draw heavily upon Giegerich’s paper, “Shalt thou build me an house for me to dwell in?”, and I will cite Hillman’s final written response to Giegerich, “Divergences”.
I recently undertook some research into the French Revolution and came across an anecdote (famous, as I later learned, and understandably so) that suggested a potentially enlightening analogy. Its import will, I hope, become clear over the course of this essay. In July, 1789, Louis XVI was still nominally king, but with greatly reduced powers and under the authority of the newly formed National Assembly. He had just returned from a hunting trip to his estate near Paris, an excursion he summarized with a diary entry for the day: “Rien [Nothing]”. Nearby, though, events were surging forward, and the king’s aide, the Duke of Rochefoucauld-Liancourt, arrived to inform Louis of the fall of the Bastille. “Is this a revolt?” the king asked. Rochefoucauld answered, “No, sire, it is a revolution.” 
In that distinction lies a real world of difference; one can surmise the sinking feeling in Louis’ heart at hearing it. (It lead, of course, to his eventual decapitation.) This figure of revolt-versus-revolution suddenly struck me as one that might illuminate not only the Hillman-Giegerich conundrum, but also central elements of Giegerich’s approach in toto.
Hillman, clearly, represents the revolt: a passionate, righteous and wildly eloquent explosion of truth against a moribund theory and a pedestrian practice. It is impossible to summarize his achievement here – his trenchant critique of the woolly thoughtlessness too characteristic of conventional Jungian psychology, and his radicalization of some of Jung’s basic notions and rejection of other, more widely popular ones. Hillman’s thought contained within itself the germs (and sometimes much more than that) of an even more radical transformation, which it was, ultimately, unable to complete.
Louis XVI could have suppressed a revolt; after the revolution, however, nothing can ever be the same again. It doesn’t matter how many restorations may be propped up and pushed forward in counter-measure, because consciousness has been changed. The Declarations to which French Revolution gave birth defined, for the first time and for our modern consciousness itself, “the individual and collective rights of all the estates of the realm as universal”
During a very excited session of the National Assembly which lasted for most of the night of 4–5 August 1789, one privilege after another was cast aside in the name of liberty. … In a word, the National Assembly introduced modernization. That the legislature of a great power should proclaim that all men enjoyed certain inalienable rights by virtue of their very nature gave the French Revolution a unique universality.
(It is perhaps tangential to my argument but surely no coincidence that Hegel, a constant reference point for Giegerich, considered his own philosophy to be the French Revolution realized in conceptual, intellectual terms, and who was heir to its universalist principles and goals. As Domenico Losurdo writes: “if France experienced the most radical developments and socio-political conflicts, … then it was in Germany that the ideological battle was most profoundly theorized”>.)
Personally speaking, I have always described my own experience of Hillman-then-Giegerich as a “revolution”. I came to Hillman’s books first, but shortly thereafter discovered back issues of Spring Journal – and Giegerich’s essays – in Toronto’s York University library. Hillman’s Re-Visioning Psychology, The Myth of Analysis and The Dream and the Underworld did indeed plunge me into an unprecedented “underworld awareness” – a sense of intellectual disorientation and shadowy aliveness that was at times literally, physically dizzying. While consuming (the word is not too strong) all the Hillman I could find, I almost immediately began to go after Giegerich with equal fervour. Through him, I came to feel that, while Hillman had indeed “changed everything” for me, he had yet only taken me nine-tenths of the way! Giegerich’s writing gave the push that took things all the way. And, too, Giegerich took me all the way around – as if my ideas had been poised on a balance point and required only a precise touch to set them in absolute motion. Hillman’s revolt prepared me, ably and poetically, for the next move, for what, I would now say, is the final move – however much activity there might still be to ensue, including, most importantly, the never-ending repetition of that move (which is a hint of what’s to come). Giegerich completed the revolution, and the world itself, in the possibility of its comprehension and conceptual articulation, is different now. No restoration. No going back.
I don’t, here, mean “back” to Hillman, but back before him, because their works are intrinsically conjoined – personally for me, and for theory itself. Hillman’s glorious revolt opened my eyes to the authentic possibility of transformation, while Giegerich made such a transformation into the very starting point and final criterion of real psychological thought. Indeed, looking back upon the material in preparation for this essay, it was interesting to realize how nearly contiguous my experience of both authors was.
(On a side note, it is also interesting just how far back their “fray” goes. I started reading Hillman in 1991 and attended the Festival of Archetypal Psychology in Notre Dame, Indiana, in 1992, where Giegerich presented “Killings”, his scathing critique of archetypal psychology’s “Platonism”. Some conference attendees were shocked, even scandalized by Giegerich’s thesis of the prior necessity for soul of ritual killing, but this response immediately struck me as thoughtless and silly. Giegerich’s premise seemed to me unquestionably consistent with the most valuable insights of archetypal psychology. Giegerich himself had, by that time, already written the following, in response to Hillman’s “Cosmology for Soul, From Universe to Cosmos”, which had been published in Sphinx in 1989:
When Hillman began to address the theme of anima mundi [first explicitly addressed in Hillman’s paper of that name in Spring 1982 – MC] and thereby open psychology from the narrow confines of the consulting room to the real world, I thought that this – in a way – radical move was not completely surprising, but rather a consistent development of the germinal ideas of archetypal psychology …
However, I found Hillman’s 1994 response to “Killings”, entitled “Once More Into the Fray”, deeply unsatisfying. He seemed to misunderstand the criticisms and evade the challenges. Giegerich’s reply, “Once More the Reality-Irreality Issue”, was rejected for publication by Spring Journal, as his reply to “Cosmology for Soul”, quoted above, was rejected by Sphinx.)
Carrying forward a (let us say) revolutionary Jungian insight, Hillman resolutely placed the human within psyche, rather than the other way around. The radicality of this “dehumanizing” move remains incommensurable with every personalistic psychology (which is to say, every other psychology). “To put it sharply”, Hillman wrote, speaking of his more conventional colleagues, “I think they see the images as personally belonging to the patient and I see the patient as belonging to the images”. Giegerich too, of course, works from this decisive starting point, and uncompromisingly so. So just where exactly did Hillman get stuck? What is Giegerich’s “follow-through”, his “revolution” to what I’m calling Hillman’s “revolt”?
It cannot simply be in any obvious opposition – between, say, an anima- and an animus-psychology, as suggests itself and as some have put forward, nor between an emphasis on notions of image versus logos, imagination versus thought, however instructive such contrasts may sometimes be. There are many places in Hillman where such two-dimensional models are vitiated:
… just as a psychological intellect requires anima consciousness, anima consciousness requires psychological intellect. The soul would be understood. Psychological understanding thus consists of two interpenetrating constituents, psyche and logos …
Therefore the soul reveals itself in its ideas, which are not “just ideas,” or “just up in the head,” and may not be “pooh-poohed” away, since they are the very modes through which we are envisioning and enacting our lives. We embody them as we speak and move. We are always in the embrace of an idea.
The value that Hillman assigned to intellect, and especially the role he accorded ideas (“action always enacts an idea. To forget this is to take action literally …”; “Ideas give us eyes, let us see … We see them, and by means of them …”) were crucial in the (near) revolution his thought occasioned in me. The subtlety of Stan Marlan’s essay, mentioned above, is helpful in articulating this complex but essential shared ground:
The dialectic is to my mind circular and requires an ongoing interplay between anima and animus, of the positivity of the soul and its ongoing dissolution, a syzygy between anima and animus psychologies. However, to imagine a syzygy between Archetypal Psychology and the logical life of the soul in this way is also to do both an injustice. Each is more complex than I have as yet indicated. Interior to both is an intrinsic relationship between anima and animus… [emphasis added]
At the same time, I do not dispute, as Giegerich pointed out in an informal email response to the first version of this paper, that the kinds of quotes I excerpted from Hillman to substantiate my claim of their shared understanding are
a few isolated assertions in that vein in his (mainly early) work, “pious” assertions that, however, have no real consequences in or for the style of his actual working. I took these statements to heart and used them, so to speak, as the starting point of my work, whereas Hillman left this path, deserted this his insight.
Giegerich “cannot really agree with Stan Marlan that ‘Interior to both is an intrinsic relationship between anima and animus.’ Not to both, or at least not to the same extent.” And he clarifies this by describing how, “Above all during the 1980s, [Hillman] went off to his purely imagistic and immediacistic stance” . My goal here, though, is not to trace the parallels and disagreements of these thinkers over time, nor simply to rehearse Giegerich’s criticisms of Hillman (however much I may second them), but to find a key that might unlock both their essential similarities and their differences. I believe I have spied such a key, and yet we are still not quite there …
So: If not in obvious opposition (anima-animus, image-logos, imagination-intellect) nor in absolute essentials (that we are “in psyche”, not psyche “in us”), do Hillman and Giegerich differ in the material they consider? Of course; but Hillman’s attachment to ancient god-images reveals, I believe, a sort of lingering humanism, because even his god-talk is ultimately about people. When, in “Divergences”, for example, he writes, “our lives, so resting upon complexes, are best grasped through myths”, he is attempting to grasp our lives and not “the life of the soul” – a distinction Giegerich has pursued relentlessly. (If the topic remains fraught with confusion, this is perhaps partly due to its nature and partly because it has yet to be fully enough elaborated; but the question is beyond our scope here.) And yet in regard to this issue of psychological material, the full breadth of reality – including its actuality – was always there with Hillman, was always at some basic level acknowledged (if finally shunned):
… whatever is physically or literally “real” is always also a fantasy image. Thus the world of so-called hard factual reality is always also the display of a specifically shaped fantasy …
… all events are regarded from a dream-viewpoint, as if they were images, metaphorical expressions.
We are enjoined “to turn to the world as a psychological arena where any event displayed to the senses is also an imaginative form”. And in this wider practice, just as in the consulting room of clinical work, he reminds us that we cannot moralize against what we might personally abhor, nor turn away from what we might humanly fear. A judgmental approach to the given phenomenon “freezes” (the critical word is his) that which is before us into immobility and psychological insight is stopped. There is, as Hillman so deeply realized, a necessity within the image: the internal, logical and essential coherence of all of its facets, none of which can be rejected.
There is an invisible connection within any image that is its soul …
And this is because:
... an image is complete just as it presents itself. (It can be elaborated and deepened by working on it, but to begin with it is all there; wholeness right in the image.) Next, we assume that everything there is necessary, which further suggests that everything necessary is there. Hence, the rule: “Stick to the image” in its precise presentation … Precision means whatever is actually presented. Simply: the actual qualities of the image. Vagueness, dullness, indifference — and imprecision, too — are also qualities. … The more precision, the more actual insight.
There is, furthermore, a necessity to the image, which he referred to as the “particular image, that one which has come to me pregnant with significance and intention, a necessary angel as it appears here and now and which teaches the hand to represent it, the ear to hear, and the heart how to respond”. If, then, we are to grasp the image in its internal necessity and at the same time to regard the “particular image” as “a necessary angel”, then necessity must also apply to “whatever is physically or literally ‘real’” when regarded “from a dream-viewpoint”.
But Hillman, otherwise so resolute upon this double sense of necessity, became blind before modernity’s necessity – which by his theory he was obliged to accord, but which by temperament, it seems, he simply could not face. (That he does, in certain places, recognize aspects of modernity, for example, technology, as themselves expressions of soul – particularly in his extraordinary Eranos paper, “The Imagination of Air and the Collapse of Alchemy”, itself often referenced approvingly by Giegerich in “Shalt thou build me an house…?” – only intensifies the inexcusability of his betrayal of this insight elsewhere). In “Divergences”, Hillman admits his bias: “Therefore, Wolfgang is justified in claiming … that I am nostalgic and escapist from the actual historical present”. In this bald pronouncement is captured, I believe, the very core of Hillman’s capitulation, the restriction of his otherwise brilliant radicalism to mere revolt, his pulling back before real revolution.
Now, to any frequent reader of Giegerich this may seem self-evident; indeed, we have merely to look to Giegerich’s criticisms of archetypal psychology’s “Platonism” – the “unreality” of the supposedly timeless imaginal realm in which it “cocoons itself” (“Killings”). In fact, for a dead-on assessment of what is, to my mind, Hillman’s basic theoretical fault, one could do no better than the essay I’ve been citing so often, “Shalt thou build me an house for me to dwell in?”. Here Giegerich precisely explains why the acknowledgement of time – of the particular moment – is indispensable for psychological thinking (and how archetypal psychology fails in this regard):
The awareness in psychology of Time as something essential to reckon with is, as it were, the placeholder or representation within the theoretical framework of psychology (or within the logical form of psychological consciousness) of the idea of the objective psyche.
In other words: of the “necessary angel” – of the necessity of that which has come to us, here and now, “pregnant with significance and intention”. Again, Hillman knows it, but disavows it.
I wonder if the implication of these criticisms of Hillman’s approach to the modern, to the actual, have been sufficiently spelled out. And I wonder if, through further articulation, the essence of what I am calling Giegerich’s “revolution” might emerge. Might this notion allow us to conceptualize, in a single figure, beyond varieties of emphasis or tendencies, beyond changes over time and self-betrayals, the actual, critical difference – the one that, as we say, makes the difference?
Like Giegerich, Hegel complained about those thinkers of his own time who “are not able to overcome their aversion to actuality”, and who in their “sadness for the collapse of their ideals” become “tedious and peevish about the condition of the world” . Hillman’s trademark psychological moves, so determinedly “homeopathic” elsewhere (how many times do we read that “like cures like”?), become allopathic when dealing with actuality, and therefore utterly unpsychological. When Hillman did “turn to the world as a psychological arena where any event displayed to the senses is also an imaginative form”, I think he simply couldn’t abide what he saw and allowed his reaction to get in the way of the psychologist-in-him. It took Giegerich’s diligence to address the situation of modernity, of contemporary life itself, in its bedevilling complexity, excruciating pain and concrete specificity. It is a less glamorous task than dwelling amidst the gods of the ancients, but Giegerich has truly wrestled with the facts of the case, with modernity’s actual presenting problems: bomb, media, “meaninglessness”, rockets, television, web …
Let me follow the clues I discerned in the anecdote about Louis XVI and the French Revolution. First and most obviously, Giegerich’s work exemplifies “revolution” as we commonly understand the word, as a definite break. It represents the completion of the separation even from Hillman’s unwitting remainder of attachment to the ancien régime of the “natural attitude”, the unio naturalis. In a particularly clear example, Giegerich “mobilize[s] Hillman against Hillman” to pit the latter’s previous uncompromising insights against his own retreat from their implications in “Cosmology for Soul”. Hillman proposes a “shift of perspective” (and “perspectives are now treated as if they were things separate from the phainomena of which they are an inherent and inseparable moment”, precisely contrary to Re-Visioning Psychology): from the abstract modern notion of “universe” to that of an ensouled, aesthetic “cosmos”. But, says Giegerich, Hillman’s “is a nostalgic, romantic position”, relying upon “ordinary conventional ideas about the soul, … and ego prejudice about what the soul wants”. He continues:
In personal psychology, one main aim of “individuation,” according to Jung, is our liberation or emancipation from the suggestive power … of unconscious images. Similarly, psychology itself, as a discipline, needs to liberate itself from the suggestive or seductive power that the whole “ensoulment” rhetoric has for the unio naturalis consciousness.
Second, and more uncannily, we find in Giegerich a true – and, indeed, truly revolutionary (about which more below) – coincidence of the two senses of the word “revolution”.
The modernist figure of revolution as unpredictable historical fracture slides into the traditional astronomical figure of the revolution as irresistible cyclical recurrence …. By the late eighteenth century, the word “revolution” (re-volutio) pointed to both rupture and repetition, and the semantic strain was beginning to be felt. The idea of revolution started to oscillate – it revolved – between these two irreconcilable extremes.
While obviously a “rupture”, Giegerich’s revolution is, at the same time, a “recurrence”, a reappearance, on the theoretical plane, of “Okeanos”, the world-encircling river of Greek myth:
Wherever you might go in the visible world, you would never come across Okeanos as a river lying before your eyes, because such going inevitably would take place within the world enclosed by him so that everything that you might come across would a priori have been encircled by him. … [He] was expressly called “the generation of all.”
Okeanos is the image of the world’s absolute containment, the world’s inescapably being locked in, thrown back upon itself. He is the image of the internal boundary of everything in the world. By grace of this boundary everything is “inner”; there is, for mythic experience, no “outside world,” nothing “external,” no natural world in the modern sense of a res extensa.
In this (re)turn to a contemporary sense of an ancient insight, “the psyche … is reinstated in its hereditary rank as that which surrounds us on all sides and has nothing outside of itself”.
We are hopelessly enclosed by the soul. … There is never any point where there would be a demarcation line separating what is inside the soul from what is out there. … No exit, no escape.
Like modernity itself (wherever one may mark its commencement), this revolution in psychological theory is inescapable and definitive, a true developmental achievement, once and for all.
We are thus forced to advance to a sense of an “inner” interiority that has interiorized even the very notion of an “outer” into itself.
And with this “no escape”, we are back to reality – back to the “presenting problems” of the modern world. We are back to the stone, the prima materia of the alchemical opus; but it is no longer merely a stone, it is the Stone. It is, as Marlan concludes in “The Psychologist Who’s Not a Psychologist”, a “liberation [that] is not beyond or transcendent to the world of samsara image and illusion. It is one with it or, as the Buddhists say, there is not a hair’s-breadth difference between them, samsara and nirvana. Seen alchemically, this is a hermetic circle …”
Hillman certainly succeeded in imparting some profound sense of such Stoniness: witness his “re-visioning” of everything from betrayal to masturbation, from ceilings to nightmares to psychological theory itself. I found that each topic he touched seemed to spring to autonomous life in the realm of mind, where other intellectuals almost always – whatever energy they may impart to their subject matter – give the sense of manipulating lifeless stuff. “Ideas become psychological experiences”, Hillman wrote in Anima, “and experiences become psychological ideas”. Before Hillman, I had never encountered such genuine intellectual animation. And Giegerich, of course, shares (with both Jung and Hillman) this respect – more: this reverence – for the life of soul. How then did Hillman come to reject the prima materia that is modernity? On the simplest level, he betrayed even his own strategy of pathologizing, “the psyche’s autonomous ability to create illness, morbidity, disorder, abnormality, and suffering in any aspect of its behavior and to experience and imagine life through this deformed and afflicted perspective”:
Were we able to discover its psychological necessity, pathologizing would no longer be wrong or right, but merely necessary, offering purposes which we have misperceived and values which must present themselves necessarily in a distorted form … We want to know what [pathologizing] might be saying about the soul and what the soul might be saying by means of it. And this attitude must come before making moves to treat it, condemn it, justify it, or do anything else for or against it. 
But, beyond even this, it is especially telling that, in response to Giegerich’s challenge, Hillman also rejected becoming “swallowed in the universal resolution of the Hegelian logic”. This is both a stereotypic characterization of Hegel’s work and, far more importantly for our purposes, a missing of psychology itself. As we have seen with Giegerich’s invocation of the myth of Okeanos, now identified in its truth as our being “in psyche”, there is indeed “no escape”, no “outside”. But if properly understood, escape makes no sense. The encircling is indeed final, but it allows psychological thought to delineate and thus to enter into whatever the phenomenon before it – for, to draw upon the insight afforded by myth, “The band around each particular time or thing gave each event a measure and a boundary causing it to carry its center of gravity, its meaning, in itself”. In ancient times,
when man was inescapably encircled by Okeanos, his existence was essentially moored in the world and thus he necessarily would look at events occurring in the world from within, with an “inner” perspective, and see them in their imaginal depth: as image and God. It was his embeddedness that made the world (and everything in it) brighten up in a mythical light, for the psychological or poetic nature of the world is nothing but the correlate of man’s rootedness in his reality.
For psychology to reject its very presenting problems, its “stone”, is to exile theory from any chance of “rootedness in … reality”, and thus to cut short the possibility of psychological insight.
Hillman’s crusade against monotheism is emblematic, the very model of his limitation. (And, of course, monotheism is so constitutive of the rupture that is modernity.) When I first read Inter Views, I found his “running engagement with Christianity” bracing, and supremely useful. His approach relativized what had previously not even seemed comparable, bringing the past “to life” by, in a sense, reactivating – if at infinite remove – that Greek imagination that could perceive gods in all things. And, moreover, in all things uniquely, individually, distinctly, in their “eachness” – a comprehension invaluable for psychological thought, for there is no other way to grasp soul at all. (Thankfully, the word “soul” has this sense of particularity built into it, as it were.) But his important theoretical recognition of “the Greek particular and plural sense of things – the world as worlds” became a fixation, an idolization, even a fetishization.
For the monotheism/polytheism dichotomy is an undialectical opposition, a stalemate; it can go nowhere. This obvious, lifeless manner of thinking is one that Hillman so diligently struggled against in his recognition of the syzygical relationship of, for example, Pan and the Nymphs: how, together, such characters constitute one living, archetypal figure. Monotheism and polytheism, by contrast, are mere contraries; the truly dialectical, essential opposition is, as Slavoj Žižek has often pointed out, between the One and itself – the internal differential as it arises from within (much like, in Hillman’s example, Pan and the Nymphs form a single syzygy, even though mythology – or rather, mythological thinking, with its narrative, imaginal and naturalistic form – presents them as separate beings). “The axiom of this book”, writes Žižek of his massive volume on Hegel, Less Than Nothing, “is that ‘One divides into two’”. And such self-division is essential to psychological thinking:
Without (logical) woundedness – without incision into the immediacy of one’s immediate views [i.e., the “natural attitude”, the unio naturalis – MC], without its negation – no psychology.
Hillman’s approach to modernity was doomed to fail in the “consulting room” of theoretical analysis because it could not stay with the matter at hand. It must, rather, keep circumventing it, obsessively placing it into multiplicity: relativization as defense mechanism. Once one understands something of the true sense of the polytheistic god-image in (and as) its multiplicity, and once one has grasped the theoretical function of such understanding, one must discern and address the particular god which has “come to us pregnant with significance and intention”, as Hillman himself said. Yet Hillman could not. Giegerich speaks of Hillman’s “refusal to accept and meet a problem with its own weight and solidity, as given to us by our history and in our actual situation." Hillman is comforting; he ultimately lets us off the hook. But this makes neither a good therapist nor theorist.
Hillman’s abandons psychological thinking precisely where it is needed most: in the face of the presenting problem. He shrugs off his patient, modernity, with the pacifier of “re-imagining”. And the failure of his theory presents its complicity with – its instantiation of – the neurosis of modernity itself. “Delivered man”, wrote Giegerich of the human being “delivered from the stream of events”, that is, from Okeanos’ encircling bond, “can no longer truly dwell in the moment. He must hasten onwards toward other moments, to some kind of beyond which alone might give a meaning to a particular present”. History – as the bearer and midwife and context of that which is before us – is inescapable. The true psychologist is required, by the exigencies of his practice, to attend to what Hillman, after the American poet Wallace Stevens, called the “necessary angel”.
Archetypal psychology can move either towards the license of many free-floating possibilities or towards actually binding us with the bond of Ananke; towards the atemporal or towards the eachness provided by historical time.
“What’s wrong with eroding categories for the sake of awakening ambiguity of intellect?” Hillman asks in “Divergences”. Nothing, when such a move is appropriate, when ambiguity is the answer to what Owen Barfield called “the besetting sin”. But when the besetting sin is a sort of “ambiguity” itself, ambiguity as avoidance, then staying with the matter at hand is the only legitimate answer – encircled, bound and unfree with/in one’s “necessary angel”.
There are three more senses in which revolution is, I propose, a valid conceptual figure for Giegerich’s work. I will touch on them only briefly, but I hope they will be suggestive of its potential fruitfulness. First, modern man is essentially what Giegerich calls “born” or “emancipated” man, as explicated by Marlan:
… this is a condition in which myth, metaphysics, gods, and God have become impossible – since Modern Man is born out of the soul as an autonomous individual, a civil man, an ego …”[question mark elided]
And Giegerich himself:
The condition of the possibility of the sacred, the numinous, of mysteries, of the symbolic life, of myth and religion – each taken according to its highest determination – has disappeared.
The parallel with revolutionary modernity is exact – a movement that might be said to have begun with the monotheistic emancipation from the deadening and brutal “balance” (so ferociously criticized by Žižek) of the pagan universe, in which everything and everyone had a fixed and predetermined place; achieved its practical highpoint in the French Revolution, with its worldwide kindred overthrowing of traditional religious, economic, moral and political authority, as well as its theoretical acme in German Idealist philosophy (“For Fichte, the deliverance from the tyranny of the thing-in-itself, the last residue of unmediated positivity, would both prefigure and outstrip any deliverance from social bondage”); and realized its culmination in the virtual, throwaway society in which we dwell today, “emancipated” and rootless as we must be. “All that is solid melts into air”, as Marx quoted Shakespeare.
So when Giegerich speaks of “the birth of man” emerging from “the end of meaning”, it proposes a sense of “man” that can be considered separate – indeed, that comes into existence precisely in the separation – from “meaning”, from all the previous possibilities of “the sacred, the numinous, of mysteries, of the symbolic life, of myth and religion”. Writes Losurdo:
In The Holy Family, Marx defines equality (égalité) as “the French expression for the unity of human essence, for man’s consciousness of his species-being … and his attitude towards his species-being.”
The analogy of revolution is, again, apt: “man” emerges from every previous “cocoon” into the nakedness of his truth, his “species-being”. Our situation, after the death of God and all gods, is final: “This loss is not an interlude. It makes a real difference”.
A random assassination attempt … [or an] execution motivated by fear of counterrevolutionary reprisal … would not undermine the organizing rationality of the state, which can easily survive an attack on the monarch’s physical body by virtue of the political theology of the king’s two bodies: “Dignitas non moritur.” The king never dies . … With regicide, the gap closes between the king’s two bodies. …
Never again can we shout, theoretically, “The King is dead! Long live the King!”
In the second sense of revolution I propose, Giegerich has perceived the true completion of modernity in the emancipation not only from previous strictures and structures of authority, but from authority itself in its final form – from, as he puts it, soul! How can this be, if soul “surrounds us on all sides and has nothing outside of itself”, as previously quoted? Here, in yet a third sense of revolution (as rupture and recurrence, and demonstrating that we are dealing with more, even, than analogy), Giegerich breaks through the neurosis of modernity – with its “delivered man” who “can no longer truly dwell in the moment” in his“ flowing from event to event, from cause to effect” – by allowing or forcing us to confront what our “necessary angel” brings: the absolute authority of the dissolution of authority! Paradoxical as it may sound, and of course contra Hillman, this insight is the singular truth of an (only) apparently pluralistic age.
So the revolution has occurred; what has happened stays happened; reality is inescapable; there can be no (real) restoration; and the revolution goes on.
 Stanton Marlan, “The Psychologist Who’s Not a Psychologist”, unpublished paper presented at the 2012 Berlin ISPDI conference; quotations courtesy of the author.
 Wolfgang Giegerich, “Shalt thou build me an house for me to dwell in? Or: Anima mundi and Time: A response to Hillman’s ‘Cosmology for Soul, from Universe to Cosmos’”, in The Soul Always Thinks: Vol. IV, Collected English Papers (New Orleans, Louisiana: Spring Journal Books, 2010).
 James Hillman, “Divergences”, unpublished paper a propos of a Brazilian Seminar on Giegerich/Hillman, organized by Marcus Quintaes.
 Recounted in The French Revolution, DVD produced by The History Channel, 2005, with additional information from Wikipedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Storming_of_the_Bastille
 T.C.W. Blanning, “Epilogue: The Old Order Transformed 1789–1815”, in Euan Cameron, Early Modern Europe: An Oxford History (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 1999), p. 348
Domenico Losurdo, Hegel and the Freedom of Moderns (Durham and London: Duke University Press, 2004), pp. 125-126.
 Giegerich, “Shalt thou build me an house for me to dwell in?”, p. 73.
 James Hillman (with Clayton Eshleman), “Part One of a Discussion on Psychology and Poetry” in Sulfur: A Literary Tri-Quarterly of the Whole Art (Ypsilanti, MI: Eastern Michigan University, 1986).
 James Hillman, Anima: An Anatomy of a Personified Notion (Dallas, TX: Spring Publications Inc., 1985), p. 143.
 James Hillman, Re-Visioning Psychology (New York, NY: Harper & Row, 1977), p. 121.
 Hillman, Re-Visioning Psychology, p. 117 and p. 121.
 Wolfgang Giegerich, personal communication, July 22, 2013.
 James Hillman, Archetypal Psychology: A Brief Account (Dallas, TX: Spring Publications Inc., 1983), p. 23.
 Hillman, Archetypal Psychology, p. 45.
 James Hillman, “The Animal Kingdom and the Human Dream” in Eranos Jahrbuch 51 – 1982 (Frankfurt, Germany: Insel Verlag, 1983), p. 325.
 Hillman, “An Inquiry into Image,” p. 81.
 James Hillman, “An Inquiry into Image” in Spring 1977 (Dallas, TX: Spring Publications, Inc., 1977), pp. 68-69.
 James Hillman, “The Pandaemonium of Images: Jung’s Contribution to ‘Know Thyself’”, in Healing Fiction (Barrytown, NY: Station Hill Press, 1983), p. 62.
 Giegerich, “Shalt thou build me an house for me to dwell in?”, p. 116.
 Quoted in Losurdo, Hegel and the Freedom of Moderns, p. 252.
 Giegerich, “Shalt thou build me an house for me to dwell in?”, pp. 113-114.
 Giegerich, “Shalt thou build me an house for me to dwell in?”, p. 86.
 Giegerich, “Shalt thou build me an house for me to dwell in?”, p. 77.
 Giegerich, “Shalt thou build me an house for me to dwell in?”, p. 107.
 Giegerich, “Shalt thou build me an house for me to dwell in?”, p. 108.
 Rebecca Comay, Mourning Sickness: Hegel and the French Revolution (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2011), p. 19.
 Wolfgang Giegerich, “Deliverance from the Stream of Events: Okeanos and the Circulation of the Blood” in Sulfur: A Literary Tri-Quarterly of the Whole Art (Ypsilanti, MI: Eastern Michigan University, Winter 1988), p. 131.
 Wolfgang Giegerich, “Is the Soul ‘Deep?’ – Entering and Following the Logical Movement of Heraclitus’ ‘Fragment 45’”, in The Soul Always Thinks: Vol. IV, Collected English Papers (New Orleans, Louisiana: Spring Journal Books, 2010), p. 151.
 Giegerich, “The Nuclear Bomb and the Fate of God” in Spring 1985 (Dallas, TX: Spring Publications), p. 26.
 Giegerich, “Is the Soul ‘Deep?’”, pp. 136-137
 Giegerich, “Is the Soul ‘Deep?’”, p. 138.
 Hillman, Anima, p. 183.
 Hillman, Re-Visioning Psychology, p. 57
 Hillman, “Divergences”.
 Giegerich, “Deliverance from the Stream of Events”, pp. 126-127.
 Giegerich, “Deliverance from the Stream of Events”, p. 135.
 Hillman, “Anima Mundi”, p. 82.
 James Hillman, “An Essay on Pan: A Psychological Introduction to Roscher’s ‘Ephialtes’”, in Hillman (and W.H. Roscher), Pan and the Nightmare (Dallas, TX: Spring Publications, Inc., 1972).
 Slavoj Žižek, Less Than Nothing: Hegel and the Shadow of Dialectical Materialism (London, UK: Verso, 2012), p. 5.
 Giegerich, “Shalt thou build me an house for me to dwell in?”, p. 108.
 Giegerich, “Shalt thou build me an house for me to dwell in?”, p. 89.
 Giegerich, “Deliverance from the Stream of Events”, p. 133.
 Giegerich, “Shalt thou build me an house for me to dwell in?”, p. 95.
 Marlan, “The Psychologist Who’s Not a Psychologist”.
 Wolfgang Giegerich, “The End of Meaning and the Birth of Man: An essay about the state reached in the history of consciousness and an analysis of C.G. Jung’s psychology project”, in The Soul Always Thinks: Vol. IV, Collected English Papers (New Orleans, Louisiana: Spring Journal Books, 2010), p. 222.
 Comay, Mourning Sickness, p. 20.
 Losurdo, Hegel and the Freedom of Moderns, p. 291.
 Giegerich, “The End of Meaning …”, p. 13.
[50 Comay, Mourning Sickness, pp. 39-40.
 Wolfgang Giegerich, “Ending Emancipation from History: Kafka’s ‘In the Penal Colony’”,in Sulfur: A Literary Tri-Quarterly of the Whole Art (Ypsilanti, MI: Eastern Michigan University, 1995), pp. 151-152.
 “In June 1794, to purge the last vestige of idolatry and above all the newest idolatry of Reason itself, Robespierre assigned Jacques-Louis David the task of choreographing the Festival of the Supreme Being. Following the revolutionary tradition of ritual destruction, the celebration featured the spectacular burning of a colossal plaster statue of Atheism, from which a charred statue of Wisdom eventually emerged. According to Michelet, the ritual included the burning of an effigy of Nothing – yet another positivity painstakingly constructed so as to be annihilated.” Comay, Mourning Sickness, p. 62.
The August teleconferences are Sunday, August 25 at 11 a.m. EST, and Monday, August 26 at 8 p.m. EST.
I will send out an email to the membership will all the details soon. The Sunday call will focus our discussion on Chapter 6 of Vol. IV. Monday's topic is still undecided. We wanted to wait and see what came up on the forum.
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