reading

An earlier version of this work was published by Spring Publications in 1977.

The present edition has been completely revised and expanded by the author.

All quotations and illustrations are acknowledged in the relevant places; references to Jung are from the Collected Works (CW) of C.G. Jung (Bollingen Series XX) translated by R.F.C. Hull, edited by H. Read, M. Fordham, G. Adler, and Wm. McGuire, Princeton University Press, Princeton, N.J., also published in Great Britain by Routledge and Kegan Paul, London.

Third Edition

ISBN 978-3-85630-905-3

Am Klosterplatz, CH-8840 Einsiedeln, Switzerland

Cover design by Hanspeter Kälin:

Apollo and Hermes adapted from an original Greek image.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage and retrieval system without written permission from the publisher.

Foreword

The most important terms in modern psychology, though originally based on experience, have become theoretical conceptions and, nowadays, are little more than jargon, the meaning of which is taken completely for granted. In this book, my rather personal use of some of these terms is related more closely to the image I am dealing with, a more direct expression of the psychic reading of an image.

Let us take, for example, the term ‘psychic movement,’ a term used consistently throughout the book. I consider that psychic movement is essential to a hermetic psychotherapy. More specifically, this term is of dramatic significance when we conceive of psychotherapy as devoted to moving, hermetically, that part of the psyche that has been paralyzed by the person’s history or experience. It is not difficult, I believe, for the reader to imagine the complex mystery of illness in terms of fixation, paralyzation, or petrification. Unfortunately, in the course of his history, Western man has retained fewer and fewer ways to be initiated into his own psychic nature; initiation therefore became one of Jung’s main concerns in psychotherapy: initiation into the repressed unconscious nature, which is fundamental to any healing. Now this is a view of psychotherapy in which Hermes, as the archetype of the unconscious, is the guide; most of the time, the only guide. For me, psychic movement lies not only at the core of psychotherapy, but also of life.

The way in which I use ‘connect’ and ‘connection-maker’ could perhaps be new for the reader. Hermes is known as the messenger of the gods; in other words, mythologically, he connects the gods and goddesses to each other and to man; thus he is the connection-maker. This is fundamental to an understanding of the variety of his appearances both in dreams, to which he gives his own significance, and in life, to which he gives his personal hermetic view. So when I use this term, it is with a very specific connotation. This book is based upon images, so let us imagine Hermes touching those spots where we are the most sorely afflicted, thereby connecting to them and, at the same time, connecting us to them. As the connection-maker, he gives us a new view of an episode in our lives, or of a pathology, which has been unconsciously dominant for too long. At the same time he reveals the psychic value in what had not seemed to be relevant or was hidden. In this way, Hermes is a god of transformation.

An understanding of the term ‘archetype’ is fundamental to the studies of Jungian psychology. However, I would be content if the reader is prepared to accept my personal view of this term: that Western culture is archetypal at its Greek cultural roots (Homer and Hesiod), and that the use of the term archetype in psychology and psychotherapy is an attempt to use the legacy of those two first poets. Following in the same Greek tradition, we can only say that psyche learns through the archetypes.

The above two paragraphs should, I believe, be sufficient to give the reader an idea of the way in which I use other psychological terms. I connect the term ‘transference,’ for instance, more to psychic movement than to its usual connotation. In the same way, psychotherapy, the book’s main concern, is viewed within a conception that goes far beyond an analytical treatment: Our survival requires that we live our life as if it were a constant psychotherapy, to let our psyche have priority, to allow it to differentiate between what is psychic and appeals to its unique nature, and what is not psychic, and to allow it to live the feelings and emotions that nourish it. This is the most immediate way to connect to our nature, instincts, and history, and to the life we live. In other words, psychotherapy in this sense is an attempt to make life as psychic as we can, to keep our psyche in movement. If we fail we must suffer the consequences of a psychic disturbance, an illness, or the most common consequence of a repetitive and stagnant life.

Hermes and His Children is addressed to the therapist who intuitively feels that his practice depends on the encounter of two psyches propitiated by Hermes, psychic hermetic encounters, through which healing can come. This is the realm of Hermes: messenger of the gods, master of persuasion, master thief, guide of souls, teacher of Asklepios, and the therapist’s inner companion in the solitude of his daily practice. It is in this realm that the therapist is liberated from the reductionism of preconceived theories and is differentiated from the many psychologies in today’s world. It is here that psychotherapy is turned into a psychic creative work, where the therapist can begin to love his practice in the same way an artist loves his art.

Not least, this book is addressed to the general reader who, in his loneliness, feels the emptiness and stupidity of the times in which he is living, and who knows, secretly and hermetically, that some sense is given to his life in those scattered moments when Hermes, with his wand, mysteriously touches him.