7 § Tradition and the Unconscious
WE have previously explained the part that psychoanalysis plays in the work of subversion which, following the materialist 'solidification' of the world, constitutes the second phase of antitraditional action characteristic of the entire modern period. [1] This subject now needs to be broached again, because for some time it has been clear that the psychoanalytic offensive is gaining more and more ground: it now goes so far as to attack tradition directly under the pretext of explaining it, the present trend being to deform most dangerously the very notion of tradition itself. In this respect, a distinction should be made between the unequally 'advanced' varieties of psychoanalysis. As first conceived by Freud, psychoanalysis was limited, up to a certain point, by the materialist attitude which he was always bent on maintaining. Not that it was any the less satanic, but at least Freudian materialism frustrated any pretensions of going beyond certain domains, or even if it sought to do so, it actually achieved no more than distortions so gross that the confusions
resulting from them were relatively easy to dissipate. Thus when Freud spoke of 'symbolism', what he thus misnamed was in reality no more than a mere product of the human imagination, varying from one individual to another and having nothing in common with authentic traditional symbolism. But that was only a first step; and it remained for other psychoanalysts to modify their master's theories in the direction of a false spirituality, in order that by a much more subtle confusion they might apply them to the interpretation of traditional symbolism itself. This was especially the case with Carl Gustav Jung, whose first attempts in this field are already rather old. [2] It must be noted, for it is very significant, that for this interpretation Jung starts from a comparison he believes can be established between certain symbols and drawings done by the mentally ill; and in fact, these drawings sometimes do offer a sort of 'parodic' resemblance to genuine symbols, which is enough to raise our suspicions that their source of 'inspiration' is a very sinister one.
What greatly aggravates matters is that Jung, in order to explain what purely individual factors cannot account for, is led to postulate the hypothesis of a so-called 'collective unconscious', existing in some way in or below the psychic substance of all human individuals, an 'unconscious' to which, so he believed, can be related indiscriminately the origin of symbols themselves and their pathological caricatures. Obviously, this term 'unconscious' is quite inept and what it serves to designate, in so far as it can be said to have any reality, is what psychologists more commonly call the subconscious, that is, the whole range of the lower reaches of consciousness. We have already remarked elsewhere on the confusion that constantly occurs between the 'subconscious' and the 'supraconscious': since the supraconscious escapes completely by its very nature from the domain in which psychologists deploy their investigations, they never fail, when they happen to come across some of its manifestations, to attribute them to the subconscious. It is precisely this confusion that we meet again here: there cannot be the slightest doubt that the productions of the sick, observed by psychiatrists, stem from the subconscious; but all that is of the traditional order, on the contrary, and in particular symbolism, can only be related to the supraconscious, to that by which a communication is established with the suprahuman, whereas the subconscious tends on the contrary towards the infra-human. We have here in fact a veritable inversion that is thoroughly characteristic of the kind of explanation in question; and what gives it an appearance of justification is that in cases such as we have mentioned it happens that the subconscious, thanks to its contacts with psychic influences of the lowest order, succeeds in 'aping' the supraconscious. [3] Here lies the very source of the illusion that ends up in what we have called a 'spirituality in reverse', for those who let themselves be deceived by these counterfeits and who are incapable of discerning their true nature.
By the theory of the 'collective unconscious' it is thought possible to explain the fact that the symbol is 'prior to human thought' and that it goes beyond it. The real question, which seems not even to be asked, would be to know in which direction individual thought is 'gone beyond', whether it is downwards, as this appeal to the so-called 'unconscious' would seem to indicate, or upwards as, on the contrary, all traditional doctrines expressly affirm. We have noted in a recent article a phrase where this confusion appears as clearly as possible: 'The interpretation of symbols . . . is the open door into the Great All, that is to say the way that leads to the total light through the labyrinth of the dark underworld of our individuality'. Unfortunately, the odds are that, in going astray in this 'dark underworld', one will reach something quite other than the 'total light'. We notice also the dangerous ambiguity of the 'Great All' which, like the 'cosmic consciousness' into which some aspire to lose themselves, cannot be anything other than the diffuse psychism of the lowest regions of the subtle world. It is thus that the psychoanalytic interpretation of symbols and their traditional interpretation lead in reality to diametrically opposed ends.
Another important remark is called for: among the very diverse things that the 'collective unconscious' is supposed to explain, folklore must naturally be included; and this is one of the cases where the theory might have some semblance of truth. To be more exact, in this context one should speak of a kind of 'collective memory', which is like an image or reflection in the human domain of that 'cosmic memory' which corresponds to one aspect of the symbolism of the moon. But to seek to infer the very origin of tradition from the nature of folklore is to make a mistake just like the now so widespread one of considering as 'primitive' what is only the product of a degeneration. In fact it is obvious that folklore, which is essentially made up of elements of extinct traditions, inevitably represents a degeneration with respect to these traditions, while being none the less the only means by which something of them could be saved. It must also be asked in what conditions the conservation of these elements has been confided to the 'collective memory'. As we have already had occasion to remark, [4] we can only see in this the result of a perfectly conscious action on the part of the last representatives of ancient traditional forms which were on the point of disappearance. What is altogether certain is that the collective mentality, in so far as it corresponds to any reality, is reduced to nothing more than a memory, which is expressed in astrological symbolism by saying that it is of a lunar nature. In other words, it may fulfil a certain function of conservation, which is precisely that of folklore; but it is totally incapable of producing or elaborating anything whatsoever, least of all something of a transcendent order as all traditional teaching is by definition.
The psychoanalytical interpretation of traditional symbols aims in reality
[^0]
[^0]: 4. [See ch. 6 above, 'The Holy Grail'.]
at denying this transcendence of tradition but, as one might say, in a new way, different from those that have been used before. It is no longer a question, as with rationalism in all its forms, either of a brutal negation or of pure and simple ignorance of the existence of any non-human elements. It seems to be admitted, on the contrary, that tradition actually has a non-human character, but the term non-human is given an altogether new slant. Thus, at the end of the article we cited above, we read: 'We will perhaps return to these psychoanalytical interpretations of our spiritual treasure, the constancy of which through diverse times and civilisations well demonstrates the traditional, non-human character-non-human, if one takes the word 'human' in a separative and 'individual' sense'. It is perhaps this avowal that best shows what is the fundamental intention in all this, an intention moreover which we are ready to believe is not always conscious with those who write things of this kind. For it must be clearly understood that what is involved is not this or that individuality, even that of a head of a school such as Jung, but rather the most suspect 'inspiration' from which these interpretations proceed. It is not necessary to go very far in the study of traditional doctrines to know that, when a 'non-human' element is in question, what is understood thereby, pertaining as it essentially does to supra-individual states of being, has absolutely nothing in common with a 'collective' factor, which in itself can only relate to the domain of the human individual, and which, moreover, by its 'subconscious' character, can in any case open communication only with the states of the infra-human. It is here that the process of subversion is immediately to be grasped, a process which consists in taking certain traditional notions and turning them back to front, as it were, by substituting the subconscious for the supraconscious, the infrahuman for the supra-human. Is not this subversion much more dangerous than a mere negation, and will it be thought that we exaggerate [5] in saying that it helps prepare the way for a veritable 'counter-tradition' destined to serve as vehicle for this 'spirituality in reverse', the apparent and fleeting triumph of which, towards the end of the present cycle, is to be marked by the 'reign of the Antichrist'?