The Archaic takes as its major reference points C.G. Jung's classic essay, 'Archaic Man' (1930), and Ernesto Grassi's paper on 'Archaic Theories of History' (1990). Moving beyond the confines of a Jungian framework to include other methodological approaches, this book explores the concept of the archaic.
Defined as meaning 'old-fashioned', 'primitive', 'antiquated', the archaic is, in fact, much more than something very, very old: it is timeless, inasmuch as it is before time itself. Arch, Urgrund, Ungrund, 'primordial darkness', 'eternal nothing' are names for something essentially nameless, yet whose presence we nevertheless intuit.
This book focuses on the reception of myth in the tradition of German Idealism or Romanticism (Creuzer, Schelling, Nietzsche), which not only looked back to earlier thinkers (such as Jacob Boehme) but also laid down roots for developments in twentieth-century thought (Ludwig Klages, Martin Heidegger). The Archaic also includes:
studies of the Germanic dimension of the archaic (Charles Bambach, Alan Cardew) a discussion of the mytho-phenomenological approach to the archaic (Robert Josef Kozljani ) a series of articles on Jung's understanding of the archaic (Paul Bishop, Susan Rowland, Robert Segal).
This book will be of interest to psychoanalysts, anthropologists and phenomenologists, as well as students of psychology, cultural studies, religious studies, and philosophy, as it seeks to rehabilitate a concept of demonstrable and urgent relevance for our time.
This book both enthrals and appals me as this thinking about the 'Urgrund' and 'Ungrund' is both deeply systemic (because it essentially deals with how the world is able to emerge from the undifferentiated archē) and deeply troubling (because it veers towards the occult and the sectarian). However, taking a bit of emotional distance turns the reading into a genuine treat as the book is brimming with ideas from cover to cover. Here I will only foreground a couple of thematic lines that were of particular interest to me.
First, there is the longitudinal perspective that connects the dawn of Western philosophy with motifs in contemporary thought. Although it must be said that thinking about 'origins' in today's cultural and intellectual climate is decidedly politically incorrect, tinged as it is with the excesses of nationalism and ethnocentrism. These misgivings are not entirely without ground, given the historical record. On the other hand, it would be foolish to discard originary motifs from our philosophical reflection, given the key importance of the notion in our intellectual history. The momentous notion of the archē is central in the thinking of the earliest philosophers whose works have come down to us. This book draws an evolutionary line from the Pre-Socratics via classical antiquity to neo-Platonism and Gnosticism, and onwards to medieval German mysticism, Spinoza, Romantic Naturphilosophie, Nietzsche, Heidegger and postmodernism. There is a distinct emphasis on two poles: antiquity and late modern German thought, which can be explained by the fact that this book project emerged from a reflection on Jung's essay 'Archaic Man'. But one can also argue, as does this volume, that the rediscovery of the archaic in 18th century philosophy is a characteristically German affair.
Looking at the re-emergence of the Archaic in the 18th century, there is an interesting tension between a psychological (or anthropological) understanding and a more mystical conception. In the spirit of the former, Kant reflected on the foundations of our knowledge. In contrast, it is no surprise that archaic motifs were sucked into the gravitational field of the single fundamental concept underlying German Idealism - the notion of freedom. Schelling in particular moved in his Naturphilosophie from the individual's intellectual intuition to the foundational act of God per se and expressed this as ‘the longing which the eternal One feels to give birth to itself’. His thinking, influenced by Boehme and Spinoza, signals a clear return to Gnostic themes. Central is this image of an ontological drama that sees the gloom of the undifferentiated as the necessary heritage of reason, order and form. Here also the fascinating but risky resonance is established between the archaic in its darkly mystical manifestation and the aesthetic. Nietzsche is a branching point here. His early work is still significantly under the sway of archaic tropes ('the birth of tragedy'), but he grows decidedly more sceptical of origins in his middle period. That scepticism reverberates in the ideas developed by members of the Frankfurt School and by postmodernists later on. Heidegger, Klages and Jung, on the other hand, form a German counter-tradition that continues to rely on the archaic as a central motif in their thinking.
The latter part of this book focuses exclusively on Jung, for whom "the primordial is not, as Freud suspected it of being, something infantile and hence problematic; rather, it is the solution to the problem of modernity." (Bishop). Indeed, Jung saw his analytical psychology as a reaction against an exaggerated rationalisation of consciousness. The modern Zeitgeist cuts us off from the violent origins of our natural history, which causes the feelings of oppression so typical of modernity. Jung: "That is why so much unlived life succumbs to the unconscious. One lives just as one walks when one’s shoes are too small." When the chaos of the unconscious breaks into people's lives, analytical psychology wants to assist them in working through this primordial experience of the spirit (Urerfahrung des Geistes).
A beautiful theme associated with the mystical interpretation of the archaic is the longing of the undifferentiated to take form. Alan Cardew's long and sprawling essay speaks particularly to this : "Drawing on Spinoza’s notion of nature as a process, natura naturans, Schelling developed a dynamic idea of the cosmos in which Nature and Nature’s God – the two are one – emerged from a dark origin driven by a longing for spiritual awareness and consciousness; the inchoate always seeking form and substance." This notion of a 'ravenous world' is clothed in evocative but disturbing images of 'turbid chaos' and 'consuming fire'. It anchors a vitalist conception of the world. Interesting is the typology of desire proposed by Cardew: "Eros is the desire for something in the future, Pothos for something in the past, and Himeros a desire for that which lies in the present – thus anticipating Bergsonian vitalism and a present made up of retention and protention." Indeed, according to Schelling two forces are present in time and balance in dynamic tension: "one of development, the flow of time itself, and one that holds back, retards and indeed inhibits and stops the flow of time. Without the latter, negative force, the universe (so Schelling claims) would be over ‘in a flash’." So even the negative and seemingly destructive and sinful has a positive role to play.
Here we can again leap forward to Jung whose core idea of the process of individuation mirrors the tenuous emergence of form as a dynamic equilibrium of potencies: "Man, nature, matter, all burn for release and the fulfilment of a need for articulation, and to overcome the force of negation which keeps them in their preset condition. Dreams are seen by Schelling as a window into these inner forces, or rather the inner Potency, and the search for the Philosopher’s Stone is analogous to this quest for potency in material form. Schelling speculates whether an inner force in all things desires to be released to change into a higher spiritual essence, to feed on their own spiritual pabulum." (Cardew)
Finally, I'd like to zoom in on Robert Kozljanič' mytho-phenomenological approach to the Archaic in his fascinating essay on the 'Genius Loci and the Numen of a Place'. Here the tone is somewhat different as the archē is experienced as "a beginning that brings a special magic: a magic that nurtures, fosters life, and helps us to live. A magic that protects, shelters, and guards us on our way through life. (...) it is the fascination, the spell, the allure of the archaic beginning that motivates, moves us forward, and brings forth something new." According to Kozljanič the 'genius' is probably the most beautiful mythological representation of the archaic as enchanting beginning. For the Romans, every person has his personal protecting spirit, the 'genius'. It is closely associated to the milestone events in life: love, marriage, procreation, birth, death. It emphatically also is "a ‘spirit of joy’. It wants the individual human to lead a good life, in the culinary, sexual, and general sensory sense." Pleasure is considered here as going beyond mere excitement. It is an invitation to awaken the formative and individuating powers of the individual. Not only individuals were accompanied by their genius, also specific places were under their protection and influence. Again, the 'genius loci' not only supports biological development, but it represents the site's potential and power and "the creation of identity and the work of memory in a social space". Classic authors evoked the numinous atmosphere of mystery and sublimity - simultaneously enticing and intimidating - that was associated to these places. At times the genius loci also manifested itself as a daimonic, personal epiphany. The key insight here is that place and people are invested in a dynamic, co-evolving relationship. In our contemporary world we have largely lost that capacity of enchantment and that atmospheric connection to the numinous spirit of becoming. However, when human beings are moved by this spirit and its history, and when they preserve and protect the main things and meanings that have grown up around the site, the relationship "makes possible a firm foundation for a future, in which continuity and transformation are not seen as opposites, but as reciprocally interrelated and as establishing the place we call our home."