archetypal and mythical semiotic textual and case analyses

Archetypal & mythical semiotic textual & case analyses

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CHAPTER SIX: ARCHETYPAL AND MYTHICAL SEMIOTIC TEXTUAL

AND CASE ANALYSES

6.1 INTRODUCTION

The notions of a unitary reality and the archetype of the Self are often criticised and

described as archaic, implausible and maverick metaphysics primarily due to their

indemonstrable concreteness. Consequently, they are repeatedly dismissed as valuable

precedent notions in arriving at a closer and deeper understanding of the symbolic and

mythical representations of individual transpersonal, experiential and ineffable realities.

It has been suggested by Van Eenwyk (1997), Gray (2000) and numerous other authors

quoted in previous chapters of this study that such a deeper understanding of symbolic

and mythical expressions offer a range of insights into the dynamic of the human psyche

and thus also intrapsychic communication. For example, symbolic and mythical

representations may reveal patterns of the development and transcendence of the human

psyche that transcend genres and cultural boundaries.

Jung (1969:180) indicates that symbols and myths give expression to unconscious

processes which, through their portrayal, re-establishes the connection between

conscious and unconscious content. He (Jung in Storr, 1998:225) also explains that the

symbolism of the process of individuation and the function of transcendence are of the

utmost importance in understanding the encounters between the conscious and

unconscious. Hence, an exploration of the mythical and symbolic representations of the

process of individuation and the function of transcendence may facilitate an

understanding of unconscious processes and subsequently also the process of

intrapsychic communication reflected in the encounters between the conscious and

unconscious.

Additionally, according to Gray (1996:2) and Jung (1968:66), specifically the archetypal

patterns of the Self, which are the roots of perception, action and communication

behaviour, are portrayed in, for example, the symbols and myths of narratives and art.


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Estés (1992:16) alludes to stories or narratives as embedding instructions which guide

the individual in the complexities of life and as a way to raise submerged archetypes

which “set the inner life into motion” (Estés, 1992:20). Consequently, these archetypal

patterns have both internal and external dimensions and are the legacy of both an ‘inner’

individual experience and of generations to come (Gray, 1996:2; Jung, 1968:66). This is

apparent in Gray’s (1996:2) assertion that “There is no heredity that operates purely

outside the shaping influence of environmental factors; there is no environmental

influence on development without a specific genetic predisposition that it may affect”.

Archetypal patterns and their symbolic and mythical expressions are thus reflected in the

animate, inanimate, psychic and spiritual worlds alike and their processes may portray a

convergent and co-evolutionary nature similar to Lewis-Williams’s (2004) reference to

how metaphor, mind, image, society and cosmos coalesce in the art of the San.

Jung (1969:180; 1968:179, 189; 1964:68) without fail found similar ‘mythemes’,

‘mythologems’ or mythical motifs represented by symbols in myths and dreams, and

according to Jacobs (2003:67) and Gray (1996:6), postulated that their universal

occurrence was not dependent upon cultural transmission or upon similarity of

experience, but arose out of the very structure of the human psyche, hence archetypes.

He (Jung cited in Rosen et al, 1991:212) gives the following account of the expression

of an archetype, ”the archetype is a kind of readiness to produce over and over again

the same or similar mythical idea”. This assertion points to patterns of symbolic and

mythical representations which are in fact prompted by the archetypes and are deposited

in personal and cultural expression, referred to as the “actualizations of archetypes” by

Huston et al (1999:139). Archetypal patterns thus provide “a basis for understanding the

reciprocal interaction of individuals and culture as coevolving systems. Out of the

archetypal core of human consciousness, there arise the great symbolic patterns that

provide its organization. These mythic themes arise out of the collective and are clothed

in the dress customary to the time and place of their arising” (Gray, 1996:6).

Accordingly, the structure of the archetypal pattern of the Self as reflected in its symbols

and myths likewise reflects one of the most basic patterns of living systems and helps to

provide a core of meaning that unites all levels of existence (Gray, 1996:3).

If these assertions hold true, archetypal mythical and symbolic themes and patterns of

development and transcendence will be reflected in modern artefacts, texts, narrations,


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as well as in dreams. Accordingly, this chapter will identify and underscore both the

recurrent archetypal and universal symbolic resemblance of certain patterns of

development, specifically patterns of transformation and transcendence of the Self with

regard to their contemporary symbolic and mythical manifestation and representation in

a modern narrative and a series of dreams of an individual.

The following analysis will be both exegetical and integrative. On the one hand, it is

fundamentally interpretative since it will reveal and explicate the archetypal roots of

symbols and myths embodied in the modern narrative of ‘The Alchemist’. This will be

facilitated by the amplification of particular symbols and myths against a corpus of

symbols and myths in selected popular cultural mythological and symbolic

representations. On the other hand, the augmentation of symbols and myths will be

integrative since the interpretation will portray the multiple-convergence of experiential

transcendent and transformational archetypal images, symbols, myths and patterns of the

Self, those represented in the narrative, and the various constructs explored and

presented in the literature review of this study.

To facilitate the integration of the various key terms, constructs, concepts and assertions

in the ensuing analysis, their essential nature as have been encountered in the literature

review will be briefly described. Specific terms will be highlighted in addition to those

that have been delineated in Chapter Three. The analytic tools and process in the

identification of archetypal symbols and myths in the narrative will be based on the

criteria as highlighted in section 6.3.

6.2 KEY TERMS, CONSTRUCTS AND CONCEPTS

6.2.1 TRANSCENDENCE AND TRANSFORMATION

The interdependence of transcendence and transformation is highlighted by Jung’s

(1972:51) assertion that the whole field of transformation experiences can be

distinguished and categorised into two main groups of experience: that of the

transcendence of life, and that of one’s own subjective transformation. Two

interpretations of the term transcendence apply. In the first instance, it implies that

which exceeds the provable bounds of existing human experience and knowledge, and a

transpersonal feeling of oneness with a unitary reality that is omnipresent in mind and


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nature (Drury, 1992:300). The pinnacle of transcendence is the absolute unfolding of the

Self and the unity of opposites in a unitary reality or unus mundus where the Self is

both aware of its individuality and its cosmic connectedness (Jung, 1986).

Consequently, transcendence is the ability of the individual to establish and maintain

contact with his/her inner core or Self which facilitates awareness of an essential unity

and connectedness with all life energy and which leads to a subjective transformation of

the total personality. This awareness is facilitated by symbols other than language and

thus an individual experiences stimuli which are perceptible and discernible as symbolic,

but ‘indescribable’ because of their very nature.

6.2.2 INTRAPSYCHIC COMMUNICATION

The total spectrum of communication in the Self represents and consequently

incorporates all the inner levels of communication within the Self with their

corresponding levels of consciousness and symbolic structures. The goal of intrapsychic

communication is the creation of inner meaning which is often indescribable, yet

notably influences all interaction with others in the social environment. The primary

idea is that intrapsychic communication, which comprises pre-personal, intrapersonal,

transcendental and transpersonal communication, facilitates self-awareness,

comprehension, and transcendence of an individual through the integration of conscious

and unconscious contents of the psyche. This facilitation is hence achieved through the

convergence of consciousness and unconscious communication symbols in the Self

through an inner dialectical process.

6.2.3 ARCHETYPES

Archetypes are “typical modes of apprehension which appertain structurally to all

human beings” that emerge from the collective unconscious and influence behaviour.

Additionally, they are emotionally charged universal and evolutionary ideas expressed

and represented in symbols of dreams, myths and art (Jung, 1968a). Archetypes cannot

be taken as signs that stand for or represent other known objects that may have been

repressed from conscious awareness, rather they represent patterns or “motifs that

represent the deepest human truths” that cannot be known or objectified conceptually

except through symbols and myths (Jung, 1960:41; 1968a; 1968b).


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6.2.3.1 The Self as archetype

The Self is considered as the organising, adaptive, transcendence and transformational

agent of the total personality or psyche which implements symbolic and mythical

patterns throughout the various life stages of the individual to allow the apportion of an

adaptive response to both the external social and internal personal and transpersonal

conscious and unconscious reality. In Jung’s (1960:41) model of the psyche, the Self is

referred to as “the archetype of all archetypes”. He (Jung, 1969:170) emphasises that the

Self, although it may become a symbolic content of consciousness, represents a supra-

ordinate transcendental totality. Important to this study, is Jung’s (1969:170) reference

to the transcendental Self which acts as a transcendent centre through its images and

symbolic representations.

6.2.4 SYMBOLS AND THE SYMBOLIC

Symbols embody the dynamics and functions of all myths, dreams, images and the

imagination and hence constitute the symbolic language of the unconscious and the

archetypes of the psyche. A symbol is different from a sign since it has a wider and

unconscious aspect that is never precisely defined (Chetwynd, 1993; Jung 1968a).

Moreover, symbols are representations of the psyche, which contain awareness that is

not directly known to all individuals and may mark-out their destiny, the highest

evolution of his or her psyche (Hillman, 1996).

Symbols thus contain both discernible personal and cultural signs and unconscious

personal and universal aspects embedded in unconscious archetypal patterns

situated in the impersonal, collective unconscious. These symbols may be described

as archetypal symbols which connotes to meaning in addition to the conventional,

obvious and cognitive, and represents something vague, unknown or even hidden from

conscious awareness. Jung (1969:180) states since the unification of opposites (the

conscious and the unconscious) never occurs on their own level, the symbol as a

‘supraordinate third’, that derives and partakes of both the conscious and unconscious,

can unite them and hence “reconciling their conceptual polarity through its form and its

emotional polarity through its numinosity”. Symbols as expressing both sides, the

conscious (thesis) and unconscious (antithesis), and as a ‘supraordinate third’ hence

represent a synthesis between opposites.


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Symbols may also be viewed as interfaces mediating between the conscious mind and

the unconscious by participating in both. “Generated by the psyche to serve its own

needs, symbols facilitate communication among its various dimensions” (Van Eenwyk,

1997:115). The symbol is thus both a material representation of immaterial qualities and

functions and personal, social and culturally defined signs. It is an objectification of

things subjective in the human mind and subliminal in nature, awakening individuals to

a perception of the world which may make them aware of a knowledge contained in

their psyche (Van Eenwyk, 1997; Schwaller de Lubicz, 1978). Jung (cited in Stevens,

1990:265) also alluded to symbols and myths as occupying an “intermediary world of

the mythic imagination”.

6.2.5 MYTHS AND MYTHOLOGEMS

A myth may be defined as a pattern of symbols that gives meaning to the facts of

ordinary life and sacredly held principles. Myths act to unify experience in a way that is

satisfactory to the whole culture and to the whole personality (Ions, 1997). Myths hence

give expression to unconscious processes and re-establish the connection between

unconscious and conscious aspects (Jung, 1969:180). The use of myths is universal and

is a fundamental response to the environment, existential situations, and personal social

and cultural longings. Certain mythical expressions are universal and these repeated

symbolic patterns were called mythologems by Jung. Examples of universal and hence

archetypal myths are the Creation and Deluge myths, which seem to be narrated in most

cultures (Todeschi, 2000b). Jung (1974:81) also indicated that mythologems are

truncated or condensed in dreams. Hollis (2004:7) describes a mythologem as a single,

fundamental element or motif of any myth such as the motifs of the hero, the quest and

of ascent and descent.

6.2.6 METAPHOR, METONYMY AND SIMILE

Typically, a metaphor expresses an abstraction in terms of a better-defined model

(Chandler, 2001a). Lakoff and Johnson (quoted in Chandler, 2001a) argue, “The essence

of metaphor is understanding and experiencing one kind of thing in terms of another”.

Although Peirce (cited in Chandler, 2001a) categorises a metaphor as iconic, Chandler

(2001a) states that it is used so extensively that it is often employed as an ‘umbrella’


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term to include other figures of speech such as metonyms. Barker and Galasiński

(2001:33) relate the metaphor to the Freudian construct of condensation and explain

them as processes whereby one idea comes to stand for a series of associated meanings

along a line of signifiers. They elaborate, “A conscious idea represents, as a metaphor, a

whole chain of unconscious meanings”.

Metonymy is a figure of speech wherein a concept is, for example, replaced in prose

with a word associated with the concept, for example, using the word ‘sword’ instead of

‘military life’. Consequently, a metonymy is the process whereby a part stands for the

whole and, according to Barker and Galasiński (2001:33), involves the attempt to

prevent the constant fluctuation of meaning and hence constitute the control of the

symbolic.

A simile can be seen as a form of metaphor in which the figurative status of the

comparison is made explicit by the word ‘as’ or ‘like’ (Chandler, 2001b).

6.2.7 INTERTEXTUALITY

Intertextuality refers to the tendency in the textual description of cultural forms to use

and infer references to other external text through such means as parody, allusion,

citation and quotation to shape the meaning of the text (Lindlof & Taylor, 2002:59).

Schirato & Yell (2000:53) explains that it involves the “circulation and exchange of

meaning…as packages of meaning”, and not as isolated ‘bits of meaning’. Intertextuality

also refers to the framing, structuring and contextual devices employed to create

meaning within a text, for example, narrative, genre and discourse, and how these

devices facilitate the ‘unpacking’ of the meaning of texts in terms of their functional

relation within a context (Schirato & Yell, 2002:53).

6.3 THE IDENTIFICATION OF ARCHETYPAL SYMBOLS AND MYTHICAL

PATTERNS IN TEXT AND DREAMS

Gray (1996:18) refers to four criteria which were developed by Hobson (1972) from

Jung which must be satisfied in order to classify any motif or pattern, theme, image or

symbol as archetypal. The four criteria are:


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A theme must be isolated distinctly enough to recognise it as typical phenomena, that

is, a particular motif or pattern must occur in the imagery and symbols of different

individuals, artefacts and art, and must recur in a series of dreams or fantasies of one

person;

The theme must be shown to occur in many parts of the world in many ages;

The motif or pattern must have a similar context and functional meaning whenever it

occurs; and

The fantasy image must not have been acquired through education, tradition,

language, or indirectly via religious ideas, and all motifs must be excluded which

have been known and forgotten. [This particular criterion relates specifically to

dream symbols and not myth and symbol in narratives.]

Gray (1996:18) asserts that notwithstanding such stringent criteria, there are numerous

examples of the recurrence of many archetypal themes and symbols in the world,

including the healer, the hero, the great mother, the treasure hard to attain, the helpful

animal and the tree of life. The idea of the ‘axis mundi’ as the centre of the home, village

and individual which is specifically reflected in the mandala is, according to Gray

(1996:18), a remarkable example of these common archetypal themes which Jung

described as the symbols of the Self.

An additional distinguishable characteristic of the archetypal pattern is its affective tone

since it is only through the use of the feeling function that the relevant limits of the

individual ‘archetypal nets’ are clearly demarcated. The difficulty to discern the

individual archetype may be ascribed to the fact that it is intermingled and represent a

web of interdependent aspects similar to clusters or matrices (Gray, 1996:19). Moreover,

archetypal patterns lie at a less effable and foundational level than the images, symbols

and myths by which they are expressed, and thus “uses the elements of experience inter-

changeably in a Lévi-Straussian bricolage in order to manifest [themselves] in

consciousness” (Gray, 1996:21). In reality, according to Gray (1996:21), the archetypal

pattern represents a unifying dynamic, relating all conscious activity to the process of

individuation. Moreover, Gray (1996:21) suggests that, from a holographic perspective,

each archetypal representation reflects the whole of the Self and psyche and comes into

manifestation as the indicator or focus of the necessary direction of individuation

according to the individual plan of self-realisation.


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The previously mentioned criteria will be incorporated in the identification and analysis

of both the text of ‘The Alchemist’ and the case study of dream symbols and a self-

report on a theme dream.

6.3.1 EXPOSITION OF THE ANALYSIS

The analysis will be divided into two distinct sections; Section A will comprise a textual

analysis, using archetypal and mythical semiotic analysis of ‘The Alchemist’ by Paulo

Coehlo, and Section B will be the case analysis of dream symbols and a self-report on

the interpretation of a theme dream series. The self-report will be based on the

interpretation of the dreams through the method of ‘active imagination’.

Ensuing from aforementioned statements, the criteria identified by Hobson, following

Jung and described by Gray (1996:18) will be used in the identification of archetypal

patterns or themes, myths and symbols of the Self in the narrative of ‘The Alchemist’.

The interrelated nature of the archetypes and their affective symbolic components will

also be duly demarcated in the analysis of the narrative.

Words and phrases serving as symbolic, mythical, metaphorical and metonymic

representational signs and themes of both the archetypal Self and patterns of

transcendence will be identified and categorised. The words and phrases serving as

semiotic signs will be categorised according to Jung’s identification of three successive

‘unions’ in the process of development (individuation) and transformation (the

transcendent function), and their comparison to alchemical phases in the development of

the philosopher’s stone, the ultimate goal of alchemical practice or ‘the Work’. Jung

(1969:170-171) refers to the union of the opposites in the philosopher’s stone in

alchemical processes as the equivalent of individuation which makes the stone a

projection of the unified Self. Additionally, Raff (2000:xxiv) refers to alchemical

literature by the alchemist Dorn, who wrote in the 16th century and delineated three

major plateaus, each of which is characterised as the creation of a union that produces a

philosopher’s stone at differing levels of perfection. Raff (2000:xxivi) champions that

each level of union in Dorn’s formulation may be understood as the crystallisation of a

new centre of the psyche, a centre that Jung termed the Self or the Divine. Moreover,


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each plateau has certain psychological experiences associated with it and are represented

by symbolic and emblematic images. He (Raff, 2000:xxv) also proposes that alchemical

images symbolically portray psychological states and experiences, and that alchemy, as

a metaphor, guides experiences in which the ‘gold’ being created is an enlightened

consciousness and represents the Self.

Raff (2000:85), Edinger (1999:27), Robertson (1995:251) and Jung (1969), following

Dorn, describe these successive unions as: 1) the ‘Unio Mentalis’, or mental union, a

merging of the conscious and the unconscious; 2) the union of the mind with the body, a

lasting union of the conscious and unconscious which Jung referred to as the ‘Mysterium

Coniunctionis’; and 3) the union of the mind and the body with the ‘unus mundus’ or

unitary reality, and a creation of the unified, conscious Self, a new transcendent centre

of the psyche. Each stage of the ‘union’ consequently corresponds to a different level of

self-formation and its associated symbols (Raff, 2000:85).

The appropriateness of these categories or themes is derived from the fact that the text of

‘The Alchemist’ falls within the context of alchemy which will be amplified in detail in

a subsequent section of the analysis. Consequently, based on the categorisation of the

successive transformational stages of the Self, the narration will be categorised and

described accordingly, and the analysis will indicate the correspondence of these

transformational stages with the symbolic events of the respective places or destinations

in the narrative.

The analytical approach in Section A will comprise a four-step process:

1) The identification and amplification of a selection of representations of myths and

symbols of the Self and the process of transcendent transformation in the text of

‘The Alchemist’ according to typical symbols and myths of the Self and

transcendence as explored in Chapter Five;

2) A selected indication of the cultural range of their application;

3) An indication of their contemporary application and correspondence with the

‘Archetypal Symbol Inventory’ (ASI) and the ‘Archetypal Symbol Inventory

Revised’ (ASI-R) ; and


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4) An interpretation of their relevance to this study with specific reference to their

potential similarity to known and established patterns, myths and symbols of

transformation and transcendence typical of the archetype of the Self.

The ‘Archetypal Symbol Inventory’ (ASI) is an instrument composed of forty archetypal

symbols and their meanings that was developed in 1991 by Rosen, Smith, Huston and

Gonzalez. In their three-part research project, they used the ASI to examine and

empirically test Jung’s theory of the collective unconscious and archetypal memory.

Experiment I was a free association test (N=29). Experiment II was a forced association,

or matching test (N=29). Experiment III, the main study (N=235), utilised a simple list-

learning task borrowed from human memory research.

In Experiments I and II, they assessed conscious knowledge of and possible cultural bias

in the items of the ASI. They found that subjects had little or no conscious knowledge of

the symbols that make up the ASI. In Experiment III, the main study, they hypothesised

that collective unconscious (archetypal) memory would increase learning and recall of

archetypal symbols correctly matched with their meanings in a list-learning task. Their

study results supported their hypothesis, as well as Jung’s theory of the collective

unconscious and of archetypal memory. The ASI was shown to be a useful research

instrument.

The ‘Archetypal Symbol Inventory Revised’ (ASI-R) is a revised version of the ASI

composed of 30 archetypal symbols and their meanings adapted from the 1991 Rosen et

al, and subsequent experiments by Huston (1992). The ASI and ASI-R are attached as

Addenda I and II.

In the semiotic analysis, constructs will primarily be drawn from the work of Peirce,

Saussure and Barthes as explored in Chapter Three, and will include an adaptation of a

semiotic framework proposed by Chandler (2001b) in service of semiotic analysis which

will be interspersed with the archetypal and mythical identification and interpretation,

namely:

Identification of text and the purpose of the analysis of text;

Identification of signs and signifiers;

Identification of modality claims and markers (the reality claims made in the text);


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Identification of paradigmatic aspects;

Identification of syntagmatic structure;

Identification of rhetorical tropes (for example, are metaphors and metonyms used?);

Intertextuality;

Identification of semiotic codes; and

Identification of other contributions by semioticians, benefits and limitations of

semiotic analysis.

The approach in Section B, the case analysis of dream symbols and a self-report based

on the interpretation of a dream theme by means of active imagination, will similarly

comprise a four-pronged process:

1) The identification of symbols represented in the dream images of the individual in

accord with typical symbols of the Self as explored in Chapter Five;

2) A selected cultural and mythological amplification of these symbols and their

correspondence to the ‘Archetypal Symbol Inventory’ (ASI) and the ‘Archetypal

Symbol Inventory Revised’ (ASI-R) ;

3) A placement of these images and symbols within the development pattern of the

individual and allusion to possible synchronistic significance; and

4) A case analysis and interpretation of the dream symbols identified and a self-report

based on the method of active imagination in the interpretation of a theme dream

series as represented in the dreams of an individual. The potential archetypal patterns

and the portrayal of the dynamics of transformation in intrapsychic communication

as represented in dream interpretation will be explored.

6.4 SECTION A: ARCHETYPAL AND MYTH SEMIOTIC TEXTUAL ANALYSIS

OF ‘THE ALCHEMIST’

The inscription on the sleeve of ‘The Alchemist’ claims that the reading of this novel

will change the life of the reader forever. With over 20 million copies sold worldwide

and having been translated into 42 languages, ‘The Alchemist’ has achieved the status of

a modern classic. The review moreover states, “The Alchemist is a transforming novel

about the essential wisdom of listening to our hearts, learning to read the omens strewn

along life’s path and above all following our dreams” (The Express in The Alchemist,

1999). The syntagmatic structure of the ‘The Alchemist’ is that of a verbal written


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fictional narrative with the description of it being a “transformational novel” alluding to

the thematic paradigm of transformation.

Essentially the story is about a journey by an Andalusian shepherd boy by the name of

Santiago in search of an extravagant ‘treasure hard to find’ or a ‘hidden treasure’. He

travels from Spain to the exotic markets of Tangiers and then on to the Egyptian

desert, where it is his destiny to meet the alchemist. These three places potentially mark

out three distinct phases or stages of his journey and the search for the treasure which

was initially evoked by a recurrent dream.

The context of the search for the hidden treasure and principal allusion to an imminent

archetypal process of transformation and transcendence portrayed in the narration is

signified by the title ‘The Alchemist’. This reference by the author to alchemy and

alchemical texts consequently relates to intertextuality as elucidated in a previous

section of the chapter. Since various symbols referred to in the text are related to

alchemy, the ‘alchemical’ context will first be amplified. Thereafter, the three distinct

phases or themes and the symbols reflected in the respective successive phases of the

journey in search of the hidden treasure will be identified, amplified and interpreted.

This interpretation of each stage of the journey will be integrated with possible

correspondences with archetypal patterns signifying transformational stages.

The author (Paolo Coehlo) divided the narration in two parts and an epilogue with Part

One symbolised by a graphic image of the sun, and Part Two with a graphic image of

the moon. Although the narrative is constrained by the basic syntagmatic structural

opposition or binary opposition as described by Lévi-Strauss, where the meaning of

something depends on its opposite, the use of the images, designating different parts of

the story, alludes to a world where word and images flow and interpenetrate. This,

together with the reference to ‘alchemy’ by the title portrays the quality of an ‘inner and

magical world’, typical of Jung’s (1968:235) assessment of the reflection of the process

of individuation in narrative and fairytales.

According to the ‘Archetypal Symbol Inventory’ (ASI) and the ‘Archetypal Symbol

Inventory Revised’ (ASI-R) devised by Rosen et al (1991) and Huston (1992)

respectively, the image of the sun is associated with masculinity and the image of the


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moon with femininity. In terms of Jung’s research on alchemy, specifically the

‘Mysterium Coniunctionis’ (1963), where he focused on the process (individuation)

involved in the development of the individual personality, the sun and the moon

personify inner psychic polarities. The sun and the moon hence represent the opposition

and conflict of the conscious (male) and the unconscious (female) with their ‘mysterious

conjunction’ or union facilitated by a mediator, the Self. The Self, as mediator, may be

seen as the representation of, for example, Jesus and Hermes Trismegistus as the

embodiments of the struggle between mind, spirit and matter, and hence, “the world of

the unconscious archetype and the world of consciousness” (Robertson, 1995:246).

Chetwynd (1993b:82, 129) describes Hermes Trismegistus as the matrix of Jungian

psychology and as the personification of the ancient moon god which represents “the

inner way, imagination, and intuition. He is at the boundaries between conscious and

unconscious”.

Moreover, symbolic and mythical representations of transcendence such as those of

Horus, Hermes Trismegistus, Buddha and Jesus are, according to Henderson (1964:146),

concerned with the release from any confining pattern of existence, the movement to a

superior or more mature stage of development, and consequently the striving towards

this goal. The symbols of the sun and the moon may also be interpreted as representing

the Egyptian myth of the eyes of Horus, where one eye was associated with the sun and

the other with the moon. In this Egyptian myth, the correct citation of a spell over the

two eyes of Horus would permit a person a journey in the celestial bark of Ra, the

supreme Egyptian sun god, to enjoy the company of the gods (Brier, 1980:145). The

myth seemingly alludes to a process of transformation from a lower human existence to

a celestial dimension with the vista of communion with the gods. The sense of

achievement and completeness is typified by a union of the consciousness with the

unconscious contents of the mind, a process which Raff (2000) refers to as “inner

alchemy”.

6.4.1 ALCHEMY AND ALCHEMISTS

The typical modern interpretation of alchemy is that it is a “foolish, superstitious

predecessor to chemistry” (Robertson, 1995:235), practised by quacks and greedy

charlatans intent on turning base metals into gold. According to Robertson (1995:235)


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and Schwartz-Salant (1995:1), such interpretations show a lack of understanding of the

history and practice of alchemy, and the permeation of many of its preceding

applications in modern society.

The origins and historical development of the practice of alchemy are both controversial

and obscure with many unanswered questions about the nature of the various alchemical

schools of thought and their relationship to one another (Raff, 2000:xii). For example,

Raff (2000:xii) says that the term ‘alchemy’ is derived from Arabic and Greek roots: ‘al’

the Arabic for ‘the’ and ‘kīmiyā’, possibly the Arabic for ‘chemistry’, and hence denotes

‘the chemistry’. However, Wasserman (1993:91) indicates that the root of the word

alchemy is “the Arabic al-kimiya or ‘black earth’, which is a direct reference to the

alluvial mud deposited by the Nile to form the soil of Egypt and a symbolic reference to

the dark First Matter of the Work”. The Greek form is ‘khēmeia’ (Raff, 2000:xii;

Encarta, 1999:40; Jackson, 1997:6), but according to Wasserman (1993:91) it may have

been derived from chyma meaning ‘smelting’ or ‘casting’. All the abovementioned

forms comprise the element of transformation and transmutation of a given metal

substance into a higher one. Consequently, alchemy may be described as the “act of

transmutation”. (Raff, 2000:xii; Jackson, 1997:6). The more recent principles of

alchemy were reportedly based on the ideas of Aristotle, the Greek philosopher who

believed that everything in nature was subject to change (Jackson, 1997:6).

Raff (2000:xii-xiii) divides the history of alchemy into three main phases: Hellenistic

alchemy, from approximately 200 BC to AD 600; Arabic alchemy, extending to about

AD 1000; and Latin alchemy, continuing from about 1100 to 1700. Contemplating these

three phases, Van Franz (1980) views alchemy as a combination of Greek theory and

Egyptian experimentation since alchemists tried to discover the deepest secrets of the

universe and the building blocks of both mind and matter which they did not distinguish

from one another.

It is believed that the archaic and traditional roots of alchemy are ancient Egyptian since

alchemists claim Hermes Trismegistus as one of the founders and propagators of their

practice (Haeffner, 1994:11; Fowden, 1993:2, 67, 155). Their claim is based on the

writings of Hermes in the ‘Hermetica’, specifically one of the earliest surviving papyri

and possibly the oldest preserved Hermetic text. Fowden (1993:89) points out that


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alchemical writings are generally categorised as technical, philosophical and spiritual,

and consequently, alchemical practices were not exclusively aimed at transforming

metals into gold, they also involved the transformation of the human soul.

Additionally, a writer named Bolos of Mendes, who lived and wrote in Hellenistic

Egypt, but whose life remains shrouded in obscurity, is reportedly the father of the more

recent Arabic and Latin alchemical practice. It is believed that Bolos’s compilations and

writings united the main threads of earlier alchemy into the form in which it has existed

for many centuries (Jackson, 1997:5; Haeffner, 1994:47). Jackson (1997:6) indicates

that Bolos was also known as Democritus, a pseudonym he took from a Greek

philosopher, Democritus of Abdera, who was the first person to form the theory that all

matter was made of atoms.

Bolos claimed that the quintessential principle of alchemy was represented in a single

formula which contained all its secrets and which was revealed to Bolos by his alchemy

master, Ostanes. The single formula states, “A nature is delighted by another nature, a

nature conquers another nature, a nature dominates another nature”. This triadic

formula was reportedly used by alchemists until the 17th century, and seemingly its

revealing character is reminiscent of other hermetic tracts, such as the Book of

Poimandres by Hermes Trismegistus (Lindsay cited in Raff, 2000:xiii). The meaning of

the word ‘poimandres’ is seemingly two-fold since it can be translated from the Greek as

representing the Egyptian ‘Peime-n-Re’ or ‘the knowledge of Ra’ – the Egyptian sun-

god or ‘shepherd of men’ (Hancock & Bauval, 2004:156; Barnestone, 1984:567).

Alchemists considered all metals as containing a similar physical base or ‘body’, and an

“invigorating principle or soul which imparted character and distinctiveness to the

physical base”, which varied in degrees of purity in different metals (Fowden, 1993:89).

The ‘soul’ principle could be manipulated and thus all base metals could be turned into

gold, considered as having the purest ‘soul’. This process developed into an analogical

train of thought and consequently alchemical imagery was used to describe the

purification of the human soul and its ascent to its divine source (Fowden, 1993:90).

Raff (2000:xv) asserts that the Arabic tradition of alchemy started when the Arabs

conquered the eastern provinces of the Byzantine Empire, a part of the world where


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alchemy flourished. In Egypt and Syria, where old alchemical writings were

rediscovered by the Arabs, the study of transmutation was practiced by various Arabic

schools of alchemy where some were devoted to physical alchemy and others to spiritual

alchemy. Jabir Ibn Hayyan, one of the most famous of the Arab alchemists, attempted to

unite both the spiritual and practical sides of alchemy. His sophisticated philosophy was

rooted in Neo-Platonic thought and he combined the mystery of numbers and letters

with the processes of alchemical transmutation. Jabir moreover rejected the notion of

empirical study in favour of the view that eternal truths derived from philosophy and the

mind alone forms the basis for science. Jabir’s system taught that the secret of creating

the magical stone (the philosopher’s stone) depended upon the correct balance that is

attained through insight and the crucial role and power of the mind to understand the

inner essence of things. He said, “Proceed with the understanding that this is an art

which demands special skills; nay, it is the greatest of all arts for it [concerns] an ideal

entity which exists only in the mind” (Jabir cited in Raff, 2000:xv; Jackson, 1997:6).

Raff (2000:xvi) indicates that there is a link between the Arabic alchemists and the

Islamic mysticism known as Sufism. The importance of Sufi mystical tradition is

ascribed to their elaborate theory of the imagination which offers a unique perspective

on the meaning of alchemy. For the Sufis, alchemy is primarily a spiritual operation

which unites a theory of imagination with the goal of creating subtle bodies and of

“seeing into the heart of the universe”.

The tradition in which the imagination of the alchemists found expression was through

the creation of alchemical drawings or emblems which represent the mysteries of

alchemy and may lead to a profound understanding of their nature (Raff, 2000:80).

Moreover, the term ‘emblem’ embodies the symbolic aspects of the alchemical opus

which was present from its beginnings and was used throughout the history to illustrate

the written texts. The use of symbolic representation was stimulated, according to Raff

(2000:80), during the Renaissance, when ancient Egypt and its language were in vogue

and many “Europeans believed the ancient Egyptian religion to be one of the purest

expressions of spiritual truth which great sages had revealed” (Raff, 2000:80).

Egyptian hieroglyphs, which they could not decipher, were seen as a symbolic system

depicting these mysteries, and consequently, the incorporation of hieroglyphs or pseudo-


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hieroglyphs by alchemists portrayed the belief that symbols could convey profound

truths better than written discourse (Raff, 2000:81). This belief was encouraged in the

15th century by the rediscovered book, entitled ‘The Hieroglyphics of Horapollo’, which

claimed to explain the hidden meaning of Egyptian hieroglyphics. The book contained

an encyclopaedia of symbols which propagated the ideas that hieroglyphs were used as

symbols to convey profound Egyptian ideas and mysteries. Due to this belief, alchemists

used these hieroglyphic symbols in their own emblems and disclosed secret information

that could not be portrayed in words. Consequently, the alchemists built on an ancient

system of symbolism, and used images and emblems to reveal secrets in a direct and

immediate way and which were, in turn, “a profound expression of the alchemical

imagination” (Raff, 2000:81).

Boas (cited in Raff, 2000:81) states that the writings of Plotinus, a Greek philosopher,

were responsible in large measure for originating the tradition of emblems. According to

the teaching of Plotinus, the Egyptian sages expressed their insights in images, pictures

and symbols, and ‘the gods’ perceived reality through the imagination and thus a higher

reality could only be understood ‘imaginally’. Fowden (1993:88) also alludes to the

influence of hermetic alchemical principles as influencing “the grand theme of the Late

Greek philosophy: the ensnarement of the soul in the bonds of fate, its liberation, and its

return to its creator”. Consequently, both alchemy and Greek philosophy seemingly

reflect a definite ancient Egyptian influence.

Alchemy, according to Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:12), was also widely practised

in China and India. For example, Indian Vedic writers considered gold, the goal of

alchemical practice, as representing immortality and the objective of the only real

transmutation was that of the human self. Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:12) assert that

generally, Indian and Chinese alchemical symbolism represents a “cosmological plane”.

For example, “the two phases of ‘coagulation’ and ‘solution’ correspond to the rhythm

of the universe - kalpa and pralaya: of involution and evolution, of inhalation and

exhalation of the opposite tendencies of tamas and of sattva”, hence also the yin and

yang. Furthermore, alchemy was considered as an expansion and quickening of the

natural process of growth and the transmutation of metals was the outcome of the

‘marriage’ of sulphur and mercury. This ‘marriage’ was seen as similar to the generation

of minerals in the “womb of the Earth, the Earth being the crucible in which the


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minerals ‘ripened’ and in which bronze became gold” (Chevalier & Gheerbrant,

1996:12).

The Chinese also distinguished inner (spiritual) alchemy or nei-tan from outward

(material) alchemy or wai-tan, where the latter is a symbol of the first. Moreover,

Chinese alchemists seemingly used symbolism in every aspect of their practices. For

example, Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:12) indicate that the alchemist’s furnace,

which resembles an hourglass, had the same shape as Mount Kun-Lun, considered the

centre of the earth, and that of the calabash, the image of the world. A correspondence

between inner and outer processes is indicated since it was believed that through

practising alchemy, “the alchemist discovered a space of identical shape within himself -

the ‘cavern’ of the heart”. Similarly, the ‘Philosopher’s Stone’ “was enclosed within the

crucible as was the ‘World Egg’ or the ‘Golden Embryo’ within the cosmic cave”

(Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:12). In both China and the West, the calcinations of the

ingredients within the crucible symbolised the return to primordial ‘Chaos’ and a return

to an embryonic state within the womb (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:12).

Apparently, alchemy found its way into Europe either directly from the Muslims or by

way of the Spanish Jews in the 11th and 12th centuries which resulted in a flood of

scientific experiments and scientific division on its value (Robertson, 1995:238;

Jackson, 1997:17). Alchemical practice reached its peak in the 15th and 16th centuries

and still existed in some form during the 17th and 18th centuries. Most European

alchemists held that mercury and sulphur were the keys to transmutation and even Sir

Isaac Newton was reportedly experimenting with mercury which resulted in mercury

poisoning, but also in thousands of unpublished papers he wrote on the subject, sold to

private collectors in 1930 (Jackson, 1997:17; Robertson, 1995:238).

Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:13) assert that in the West, the alchemical ‘Great Work’

or the goal of alchemy was based on sulphur and mercury, corresponding to fire and

water, which in turn relates to active and passive principles, and also celestial and

terrestrial influences, and the correct proportions to produce the ‘salt’. The three

principles of alchemy were hence sulphur, mercury and salt. There are seemingly

universal correspondences since, in Taoist spiritual alchemy, the k’i and hsing, the

‘breath’ and the ‘essence’, are also identified with fire and water.


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The two essential stages in the alchemical ‘work’ were making the White Stone (albedo)

and making the Red Stone which correspond to the ‘Lesser Mysteries’ and the ‘Greater

Mysteries’ in Western, hermetic terms. This in turn relates “to the Chinese ‘Blooming of

the Golden Flower’, the ‘Release of the Embryo’ and the attainment of the states of

‘True Man’ (tchen-jen) and ‘Transcendent Man’ (chen-jen)”. The ‘Transcendent Man’

corresponds to the ‘pre-Adamite Man’ and ‘Universal Man’ of Muslim esoteric doctrine

which, moreover, defines the latter as ‘Red Sulphur’ (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:13).

Seemingly, these symbolic constructs relate to both the Greek Anthropos, and Jung’s

distinction between the self as the ego, and the Self as the unification of the component

parts of the individual psyche.

These assertions concur with Chevalier and Gheerbrant’s (1996:13) statement that

alchemy symbolises “the actual evolution of the person from a state in which the

material world predominates to a spiritual state”. Consequently, the transmutation of

base metals into gold is likened with the transformation of the human being into a state

of pure spirituality. Both material and spiritual alchemy presupposed knowledge of the

principles governing the traditional order of things which were expressed in symbolism

and axioms. The most famous and revered was the ‘Emerald Table’ or ‘Emerald Tablet’

which set out in hermetic terms the fundamental axiom and formula of alchemy (Hall,

1957:CLVII). Furthermore, all alchemical writers employed a wide variety of metaphors

based upon marriage and procreation which acted as a symbolic aid to knowledge

(Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:13).

The ‘work’, also referred to as the opus of the alchemist, involved four main stages of

transformation which was also subdivided into respectively 12 and 22 stages by different

alchemical writers. The four primary stages are summarised from Chevalier and

Gheerbrant (1996:12):

The purification of the matter used; (referred to by some writers as calcination,

identified with the colour black );

Its reduction or solution until all that remained was the universal being,

corresponding to the colour white (referred to by some writers as solutio - the

destruction of shape, the extinction of lust, the reduction of matter to its primordial


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state, and the putrefaction which divided the calcinated elements until they were

completely destroyed);

Its restoration to solid form (referred to as conjunction or sublimatio, corresponding

to the colour red, the union of opposites, and the peaceful co-existence of

contrarieties); and

A fresh composition existing on a new plane of manifestation and controlled by the

purest being or of God himself (referred to as coagulatio by some authors and

corresponding to gold, the colour of the sun, and the fullness of being, heat and

light).

The aforementioned process of the various systems and practices may be truncated into

the single formula ‘solve et coagula’, translated as ‘purify and integrate’ which applies

to the evolution of both the objective and subjective universe, where the subjective

nature refers to “the self on the ladder of perfection” (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:14;

Haeffner, 1991:203). Jung (cited in Edinger, 1995:158) indicates that the conscious

realisation of the Self is the ‘son’ or ‘daughter’ of these four processes of calcinatio,

solutio, sublimatio and coagulatio. Moreover, the colours black, white, red and gold or

yellow signify the process and various stages of individuation (Edinger, 1995:156).

Important to the scope of the study is Chevalier and Gheerbrant’s (1996:14) assertions

that the hidden meaning of folktales, myths and legends which reflected “the interplay of

the ceaseless transmutations of the soul and the ultimate fate of creation” was unlocked

and interpreted in alchemy through the use of idiosyncratic symbols and language still in

use today.

Raff (2000:xix) and Jackson (1997:36) too maintain that the interest in alchemy still

continues today, and is most often divided into two main branches - inner and practical.

The latter is concerned with work in the laboratory and the hope of creating healing

potions and transmutations of all kinds. For example, Jackson (1997:36) reports that in

the 1980s it was rumoured that scientists have discovered ‘red mercury’, a uniquely

explosive substance which is a compound of mercury and antimony, bound together in a

nuclear reactor, a binding which ancient alchemists attempted, but lacked the technology

for it. Inner alchemy is concerned with inner transforming experiences aimed at

expanding the personality or facilitating the experience of divine truths (Raff, 2000:xix).


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A closer examination of Raff’s previous statement regarding inner alchemy clearly

indicates that alchemy could relate to an application of Jung’s view of the

transformation of the psyche. According to Bennett (2001:162), Jung referred to

alchemical philosophy as “the most modern precursor…of the transformation of the

personality…[and] of the conscious and unconscious”. Tragically, however, Raff

(2000:5) claims that currently more and more Jungians are redefining Jung’s work and

concepts with a decidedly non-spiritual emphasis and hence disengaging the deeper

meanings of his work and the traditions that helped shape him. “Originally and

essentially, Jungian work was a system aimed at promoting profound transformational

experience. Analytic work with individuals that does not foster such transformational

experiences should only loosely be termed Jungian” (Raff, 2000:5).

Moreover, Raff (2000:5) asserts that living with the Self as an inner figure and

experienced by “a dialoguing with inner figures is a quintessential feature of the

Jungian approach”, and is the key practice in Jung’s spiritual model. Jung, like the

alchemists, according to Raff (2000:81), expressed that the true symbol emerged from

the unconscious, hence the imagination. Consequently, as the expressions of the

imaginal, symbols are closely related to the inner figures that appear in active

imagination and convey the wisdom of the spirit in visual expression. Wasserman

(1993:91) specifies that alchemy is the “ultimate symbolic description of the

transformation…of earthbound consciousness to the refined gold of the spiritually

illuminated being, strictly concerned with inner dynamics…” This view is echoed by

Haeffner (1994:12) who states that alchemy is a worldview where the individual is seen

as the microcosm and the secrets of the Elixir and the Philosopher’s Stone are said to be

inner treasures of spiritual realisation.

Another example of the application of alchemical principles in current practices is

reflected in a book published by Tom Reeves in 1997 entitled ‘Alchemy for managers.

Turing experience into achievement’. The book sets out to co-ordinate patterns of

change, self-development and organisational development loosely based on

metaphorical alchemical stages and so-called archetypal managerial types (Reeves,

1997).


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Accordingly, ‘The Alchemist’ may possible reflect patterns of transformation and

change, and the successive ‘unions’ of the Self based on metaphorical alchemical stages

as proposed by Jung. The following is a summary of significant excerpts from the

narrative and indicates the major symbols as signs in bold which will subsequently be

amplified. Certain passages from ‘The Alchemist’ are quoted directly to indicate the

significant symbols and metaphors represented in the text.

6.4.1.1 Part one, first union: Spain: ‘Unio Mentalis’

A shepherd boy named Santiago had a recurring dream while seeking sanctuary with

his flock in an abandoned church, where an enormous sycamore had grown on the

spot where the sacristy had once stood. The boy had a close relationship with his sheep

and called each by name upon awakening every morning. The last few days he had

grown impatient with his flock since he was preoccupied with a girl he met in the

village. While pondering his impatience with his faithful companions, he remembered

an old gypsy woman who interpreted dreams and decided to pay her a visit.

The gypsy explained to him that dreams are the language of God. However, when

God speaks in the language of the soul, only the individual dreamer can interpret the

dream. The boy relayed his dream to the old gypsy woman: Children were playing with

his sheep, something he did not like people to do, but since they were children, he

allowed them to continue. “The child went on playing with my sheep for quite a

while…And suddenly, the child took me by both hands and transported me to the

Egyptian pyramids. Then, at the Egyptian pyramids the child said to me, ‘If you come

here, you will find a hidden treasure.’ And, just as she was about to show me the exact

location, I woke up. Both times.”

Unable to interpret the dream, the gypsy did not charge him, but requested one-tenth of

the treasure, if he should find it. Feeling disappointed with his encounter with the gypsy

woman, the boy went to the town plaza and continued reading his book. An old Arab-

looking man, sitting close by, tried to start a conversation with him by talking about the

book that the boy was reading: “It’s a book that says the same thing almost all the other

books in the world say”, continued the old man. “It describes people’s inability to

choose their own destinies. And it ends up saying that everyone believes the world’s


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greatest lie: “What’s the world’s greatest lie?” the boy asked, completely surprised.

“It’s this: that at a certain point in our lives, we lose control of what’s happening to us,

and our lives become controlled by fate. That’s the world’s greatest lie.”

The old man, who turned out to be a king, instructed the boy to “Give me one-tenth of

your sheep” and he would tell him how to find the hidden treasure. Asking why a king

should be talking to a simple shepherd boy like himself, the old man replied that one of

the reasons was that the boy succeeded in discovering his destiny. “…when you really

want something, it’s because that desire originated in the soul of the universe. It’s your

mission on earth.”…The Soul of the World is nourished by people’s happiness. And

also by unhappiness, envy, and jealousy. To realize one’s destiny is a person’s only real

obligation. All things are one. “And, when you want something, all the universe

conspires in helping you to achieve it?”

The old man, called Melchizedek, king of Salem, explained that when people are

seeking their destiny, he always appears in one form or another. “Sometimes I appear in

the form of a solution, or a good idea. At other times, at a crucial moment, I make it

easier for things to happen. There are other things I do, too, but most of the time people

don’t realize I’ve done them.” The old man related that, the week before, he had been

forced to appear before a miner, and had taken the form of a stone. The miner had

abandoned everything to go mining for emeralds.

He also explained to the boy that “Treasure is uncovered by the force of flowing water,

and it is buried by the same currents’ said the old man. “If you want to learn about your

own treasure, you will have to give me one-tenth of your flock?” “In any case, it’s good

that you’ve learned that everything in life has its price. This is what the Warriors of the

Light try to teach?”

While contemplating the old man’s words, The wind began to pick up. He knew that

wind: people called it the levanter, because on it the Moors had come from the Levant at

the eastern end of the Mediterranean. That wind had brought the Moors, yes, but it had

also brought the smell of the desert and of veiled women. It had brought with it the

sweat and the dreams of men who had once left to search for the unknown, and for gold

and adventure - and for the Pyramids.


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After selling his flock, the boy went in search of the old man to honour his promise to

pay him one tenth of the selling price. “I’m surprised?” the boy said. “My friend bought

all the other sheep immediately. He said that he had always dreamed of being a

shepherd, and that it was a good omen?” “That’s the way it always is,” said the old

man. “It’s called the principle of favourability. When you play cards the first time, you

are almost sure to win. Beginner’s luck.” “Why is that?” “Because there is a force that

wants you to realize your destiny; it whets your appetite with a taste of success.”

“In order to find the treasure, you will have to follow the omens. God has prepared a

path for everyone to follow. You just have to read the omens that he left for you.” Before

the boy could reply, a butterfly appeared and fluttered between him and the old man. He

remembered something his grandfather had once told him: that butterflies were a good

omen.”

The old man opened his cape, and the boy was struck by what he saw. The old man

wore a breastplate of heavy gold, covered with precious stones. “Take these?’ said the

old man, holding out a white stone and a black stone that had been embedded at the

center of the breastplate. “They are called Urim and Thummim. The black signifies

‘yes? and the white ‘no.’” And the boy was on his way, a journey in search of his hidden

treasure.

i A boy called Santiago

The name ‘Santiago’ may refer to ‘Santiago, patron saint of Spain’ and the myth of

St James, the brother of St John, according to which St James (known as Santiago

in Spain) the Greater or Major and his apostles founded the church of ‘Our Lady of

the Pillar’, in Zaragoza in Spain. St James was beheaded by King Herod Agrippa,

making him the first martyred apostle, and was reportedly buried in Spain. “By

miracle, a boat appeared after his beheading with his two disciples, Anthanasius

and Theodore, to bear his remains to the northwest coast of Galicia at Padròn

where he was buried” (Santiago, 2005). For 800 years, his grave was forgotten

until his bones and crypt were re-discovered during the Moorish occupation of

Spain by a shepherd boy, Peleyo who saw stars falling from the sky on a hillside

near the river Sar just before his discovery (Santiago, 2005). Some reports state


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that the discovery was made by a hermit, Pelagius, who went to call the local

bishop who in turn declared that the bones were those of St James (Jurado, 2004).

According to Jurado (2004), the rediscovery of the crypt of St James in the early

9th century of early medieval Spain “led to one of the most popular manifestations

of spirituality in medieval Europe”.

Santiago (St James) reportedly performed a miracle by appearing from the Milky

Way on a white horse and with his flashing sword conquered the Moorish army of

Prophet Mohammed (Santiago, 2005). After the battle, Santiago became known as

Santiago Matamoros, ‘Santiago the Moor slayer, and the Brother of Thunder’. A

church and a monastery were built on his crypt by an Austrian King, Alfonso II,

‘The Chaste’, which became known as “Santiago de Compostela’’ or St James of

Campus Stellae - field of stars”. Yearly pilgrimages to ‘Santiago de Compostela’

were made and are still embarked upon ranking in importance alongside those to

Jerusalem and Rome. For example, according to Jurado (2004), the “presence of

both civil and ecclesiastical dignitaries from all over Europe at Santiago de

Compostela conveys the international fame and curative power of the shrine”.

Dignitaries who visited the shrine included St. Francis of Assisi and Pope John

Paul II who’s journey to Santiago in 1989 was the first ever by a pope (Jurado,

2004). Jurado (2004) indicates that in ideological as well as in concrete terms, the

pilgrimage road provides a striking parallel to the road to Calvary, the Via

Dolorosa, which, during the Medieval period, reflected that life itself was a

pilgrimage and “gave rise to pilgrimages as a characteristic form of religious

expression”.

According to Jurado (2004), “the cult of Santiago flourished and major historical

consequences for Spain and Christianity ensued”. Moreover, “Santiago

Matamoros is reported to have appeared 38 times in Spain over the next five and a

half centuries in the all-consuming crusade against the Moorish invaders in

Spain”.

The legacy of Santiago still lives on in Spain and Latin America since in 81

settlements in New Spain (modern Mexico) and 23 in Peru, the name Santiago was

honoured. Reportedly, most of the conquests of the Indians in Latin America were


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won under the name of Santiago. Ironically, the conquered also displayed an

enthusiastic allegiance to his name and ceremonies, since the month of July, known

in Spanish as El Mes de Santiago, were devoted to his honour by the Indians

(Jurado, 2004).

According to Cooper (1995:144), the symbols associated with ‘Santiago or St

James the Great’ in works of art are a sword, the attire of a pilgrim and his cloak

which is covered with shells.

ii Abandoned church and sycamore tree

Church

The symbol of the ‘church’ may be understood from various perspectives, but is

mainly associated with a female figure and at times is referred to as ‘Our Lady,’

the ‘Bride of Christ’, or the ‘Body of Christ’. In the visions of the apocryphal

Shepherd of Hermas, the church is described as a respected old woman who

becomes the bride as a symbol of the one chosen by God. In Christianity, the

church symbolises the image of the world, the New Jerusalem, the heavenly

church, the kingdom of the elect, and the microcosm of the human soul.

Moreover, “as Israel was the Church of the Old Testament, so the Church is the

Israel of the New Testament” (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:193-194).

The modern use of a church, mosque or synagogue as a holy place of worship,

was seemingly preceded by the ancient Egyptian practice of the temple as a

building of worship and a place where divine or holy entities were believed to

have dwelled. The temple functioned as the residence, house or mansion of the

gods as well as a symbolic model of the universe which was not only a

representation of reality, but also a working model of the cosmos (Clarke,

2000:182; Wilkinson, 1999:27; West, 1993:152). A temple was referred to as the

‘divine house’ of the “neter” (hieroglyphic for god) or “neteru” the hieroglyphic

for groups of gods or spiritual beings from which life was believed to have

originated (Clarke, 2000:182).

In certain instances a building or sometimes a cluster of buildings associated with

specific large temples were called the ‘House of Life’ where libraries were kept


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and the custodians or priests of the knowledge of the temple studied (Schwaller de

Lubicz, 1985:13; Brier, 1980:42; Schwaller de Lubicz, 1977). These temples were

thus considered as places of learning for priests and scribes, specifically regarding

alchemy and astrology, since Egyptian priests were also regarded as philosophers

and the guardians of sacred papyri texts over and above their regular temple

duties. For example, the alchemical writings of Hermes Trismegistus and other

Hermetic writings are believed to have been stored and protected in these temples

or ‘Houses of Life’ (Fowden, 1993:72, 167).

These ancient Egyptian stone temples, in instances a complex of temples,

consisting of quite a few gateways which opened into various courtyards, were

encircled by a domain or complex wall of mud bricks. The heart of the temples

comprised a pillared hall, and a dimly lit inner sanctum of the god or group of

gods of the individual temple, which normally lead off a courtyard. The sanctuary

of the temple symbolised the sacred mound or seat upon which the neters (gods)

were supported. The roofs of temples represented the sky and were usually

decorated with stars and flying birds which represented protective deities. “The

floor, correspondingly, was regarded as the great marsh from which the primeval

world arose” (Wilkinson, 1999:28), and consequently, the great columns of the

pillared courts and halls, and the lower walls which surrounded the temple

complexes, depicted palm, lotus, or papyrus plants rooted in “the waves of the

watery environment of the First Time” – [creation] (Wilkinson, 1999:28). The

‘First Time’ or ‘Primeval Age’ was referred to as sep tepi in Egyptian hieroglyphs

(Rohl, 1998:334).

The symbolism portrayed in the temples integrated every aspect of the building

and provided a coherent meaning to the whole of the temple and its function as a

model of the cosmos and the ‘first creation of the first time’. Accordingly, the

very form of the temple portrayed the symbolic dimensions which the ancient

Egyptians used in expressing and establishing order and harmony in their world.

The order and harmony were reflected in that every position of a statue of a god in

the temple was marked out with the hieroglyph maat meaning ‘divine truth’ or

‘cosmic order’ (Wilkinson, 1999:28; Meeks & Meeks, 1999:124). Rohl

(1998:320) indicates that maat was also associated with the pharaoh, since, as the


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sentinel against the encroachment of chaos, he had the power to maintain ‘cosmic

order’. In addition to depicting the cosmos, the temple, representing the human

body, also portrayed an experience of being transported to an ineffable realm of

consciousness, the realm of magic and the gods (Wilkinson, 1999:28; Meeks &

Meeks, 1999:124; Schwaller de Lubicz, 1985:28).

In the previous chapter, it was explained that Jung (1969:223) thought that the

most important images in representing the Self are geometric structures

containing elements of the circle and ‘quaternity’ from which the wheel and more

elaborate motifs may be constructed. For example, the circle represents a

“containment” of the ego in the greater dimension of the Self and could be

analogous to more elaborate and complex symbols such as a city, castle, house,

church, mandala and vessel (Jung, 1969:224). Chetwynd (1993b:24) maintains

that the temple or church, like the mandala, depicts humankind’s living

experience of the universe and consciousness of space and time since the term

‘temple’ is related to ‘tempus’ (time) and the measurement of space ‘template’,

hence to ‘contemplate’ space and time, thus, the church represents the pattern of

the psyche. Schwaller de Lubicz (1977; 1985:30) asserts that the temple is the

symbol of accomplishment in humankind as represented in the regeneration of

Horus - the external temple becomes the temple within – it represents the process

of becoming. “Man become Buddha, [or] the awakening of Christ in man”.

Sycamore tree

Deeply rooted in the mystifying earth, the tree is one of humankind’s most

important symbolic expressions (Frutiger, 1989:256). Eliade (cited in Chevalier &

Gheerbrant, 1996:1026) identifies seven different lines of interpretation regarding

trees, all stemming from “the notion of the living cosmos in a state of perpetual

regeneration”. Thus, as symbols of life which constantly develop, trees evoke a

range of vertical and cyclical associations of cosmic development represented in

death and regeneration. Trees moreover connect three levels of the cosmos; the

underworld, through their roots burrowing deep into the soil; the earth’s surface

with their trunk and lower branches; and the heavens with their upper branches

and top, reaching up to the light (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:1026). Frutiger

(1989:246) also indicates that since the lifespan of most trees is longer than that


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the average human, they are viewed with reverence and as symbolically depicting

cyclical regeneration.

This reverence for trees is, according to Bruce-Mitford (2000:45), widespread

throughout the world with many traditions associating it with the central point and

pivot of the world. The tree signifies an ascent to higher consciousness, serves as

an image of the Self, and represents humankind’s essential being. There is also a

close relationship between the tree and the cross, which signifies the sacrifice of

the ego and a higher realisation of the Self (Chetwynd, 1993a:214). Jung

(1964:81, 110, 324) differentiates between the tree as representing humankind,

the way of life itself which springs from the union of opposites, growing into that

which is eternal, and the ‘philosophical’ tree. The philosophical tree is a symbol

of the alchemical “opus” which represents the individuation process and also

points to the active imagination as the beginning of the said process and the

development of the philosopher’s stone, a symbol of the Self. Additionally, the

tree may be associated with the nurturing mother-archetype, who may also be the

beloved, which in turn may be associated with a longing for the goal of

redemption and union represented by, for example, a church. Jung (1969:226)

asserts that in dreams, the images of a tree, lake and mountain are the most

common symbols of the Self.

Furthermore, according to Jung (1960:29), in alchemy, the tree is the symbol of

Hermetic philosophy which is associated with Hermes Trismegistus, the Egyptian

messenger of the gods, also known as the Egyptian god Thoth and Djehuti, and

reportedly the father of alchemy, mathematics and writing. Both Hermes

Trismegistus and the tree are associated with the union of the conscious and

unconscious or heaven and earth. “The tree links heaven and earth since it is

rooted in the underworld and its branches reach up to the heaven, symbolizing

man’s striving for perfection” (Bruce-Mitford, 2000:45).

Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:500) assert that Hermes was elected by Zeus to

be his messenger to the gods of the Underworld, Hades and Persephone. “Hermes

was also originally an agrarian deity, the tutelary god of shepherds, but he was

also the god who guided souls to the domains of the dead”. Hermes consequently


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had the title of ‘Hermes Psychopompos, Conductor of Souls’ and was symbolised

as ‘the Good Shepherd’ and sometimes named the ‘Evangelist’. Hermes

ultimately symbolises the channels of communication between heaven and earth

and makes the roads between the underworld, earth and heaven safe for the

‘traveller’ (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:500).

Hermes, as has been mentioned before, is associated with the ancient Egyptian

supreme deity Thoth from which most of his symbolism is drawn, including the

embodiment of the revelation of wisdom and the way of eternal life to

humankind. Moreover, “he is simultaneously the god of hermetics and

hermeneutics, of the mystery and of its unravelling” (Chevalier & Gheerbrant,

1996:501).

Jung (1964:30) alludes to the ancient African interpretation of a tree as possessing

its own soul and voice, and sharing humankind’s fate. This African association

with the tree is borne out by Knappert (1995:246) who indicates that, according to

African mythology, specifically big trees have a spirit and a voice which have to

be preserved by a drum-maker should the wood be used to make a drum. The

spirit of the tree may become the spirit of the drum which carries messages

across, for example, a forest. Additionally, the ‘voice’ of the drum is associated

with the voice of the king, tribal leader and shaman. Based on the interpretation of

Hermes being the mediator between humankind and the gods, the function of the

African shaman is seemingly similar in that Knappert (1995:216) asserts that the

shaman is the mediatory between the two worlds of the spirits and of the people.

TePaske (1997:27) too alludes to correspondences between the practices of

shamanism and alchemy in paralleling the symbols of crystals in shamanism to

the Philosopher’s Stone in Western alchemy.

Van Franz (1964:161) and Edinger (1995:76) allude to the tree in dreams and

myths as symbolising an unconscious will and desire for the expansion of the

personality which is guided by the Self-archetype. The tree’s “slow, powerful

growth fulfils a definite pattern”, and hence represents growth and individuation.

Moreover, “like the tree, we should give in to this almost imperceptible, yet

powerfully dominating impulse – an impulse that comes from the urge towards


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creative self-realization” (Van Franz, 1964:167). Chetwynd (1993b:405) also

indicates that the ‘tree of life’ is the most primitive and ancient means of

progressive ascent, whereas the ‘cosmic tree’ is related to the “World Axis and is

a symbol of union”. Henderson (1964:152) asserts that the ancient tree or plant

represents symbolically the growth and development of psychic life as opposed to

animal symbols which signify instinctual life.

Seemingly, the symbol of the tree has been used across various cultural contexts

and in the myths of several ancient civilisations. For example, Osiris, the

Egyptian god of the ‘underworld’, was said to be reborn out of a tree and the

Buddha achieved enlightenment under the Bodhi tree (Bruce-Mitford, 2000:44;

Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:1028; Edinger, 1995:74; Chetwynd, 1993a:215).

Wilkinson (1999:91) supports this notion and asserts that several Egyptian gods

were said to “come forth from”, to manifest themselves in, or were associated

with trees. The Tree of Knowledge in the Garden of Eden is mentioned in the

Christian Bible, whereas Muslim prayer rugs often depict the tree as a symbol of

ascent and salvation (Bruce-Mitford, 2000:44).

Bruce-Mitford (2000:44) indicates that individual trees, types of trees and groups

of trees all have particular associations, and that the sycamore (nehet in

hieroglyphic) was considered by the ancient Egyptians as a celestial tree and a

form of the sky goddess Nut. Nut was in turn associated with rebirth since she

was believed to have swallowed all heavenly bodies on a daily basis, only to give

birth to them again from her womb (Owusu, 2000:99). The leaves, providing

shade, symbolised peace and rest in the afterlife, whereas the milky substance

yielded by the fruit of the sycamore was associated with fertility and nourishment

(Owusu, 2000:237; Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:961). The sycamore and the

date palm enjoyed special honour in the Nile Valley as trees of life since they

only flourished in areas where life-giving water was present (Owusu, 2000:237).

In the Egyptian Book of the Dead and other hieroglyphic depictions, several pleas

are directed to Nut and Hathor to provide the diseased with the water of life

flowing from the sycamore tree through which they manifested (Antelme &

Rossini, 1998:47).


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In addition to the sycamore being associated with Nut, Owusu (2000:227) and

Wilkinson (1999:91) indicate that several tree cults existed in ancient Egypt and it

was believed that Ra (or Re), the Egyptian sun god, “came forth from” the

sycamore. The sycamore was also an emblem for a region in Upper Egypt

referred to as the Sycamore Region (Owusu, 2000:227). Wilkinson (1999:90)

stresses the mythical significance of the sycamore and states that in addition to it

being a manifestation of Nut, it was also associated with Isis, sister-wife of Osiris

and mother of Horus, and especially Hathor, the original ‘mother and complete

femininity’ of ancient Egypt, daughter of Ra, the sun god. Hathor was given the

epithets of “Lady of the Sycamore”, “the Golden One” and “Gold of the Gods”

since she was also associated with gold and believed to be a manifestation of the

precious metal which in turn was viewed as a metaphor of eternal life (Wilkinson,

1999:83, 91; Bunson, 1999:254; Watterson, 1999:121, 122).

Current associations with the tree as a symbol relate to, for example, references to

familial ancestry as the ‘family tree’, growth and life as is often depicted in family

crests and corporate identity insignia.

iii A shepherd boy

The image and symbol of the shepherd are, according to Jung (1969:103), steeped

in religious symbolism and specifically Christian allegory. For example, God is

the Shepherd of Israel who leads, watches and guards His flock (Psalm 23:1;

Isaiah 40:11; Jeremiah 31:10). Additionally, David was a shepherd boy whom

God chose to be the leader of his people (2 Samuel 7:8; 24:17). Although he was

appointed as a shepherd by God, the flock itself belongs to God, and consequently

God remains the true shepherd (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:872).

Additionally, Jesus proclaimed, “I am the good shepherd” (John 10:11) and in the

Book of Revelation (Revelation 2:27; 12:5; 19:15) another dimension of the

shepherd symbol is added, indicating that Christ will be both shepherd and judge.

The connotation of Christ as the Good Shepherd appears often in early Christian

writings such as The Shepherd of Hermas, which developed into a tradition

whereby spiritual leaders came to be called shepherds or pastors (Chevalier &

Gheerbrant, 1996:873). Jung (1969:103) refers to Reitzenstein’s conjecture of the


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‘Shepherd of Hermas’ being derived from the Poimandres written by Hermes

Trismegistus who was also signified as the shepherd. According to Edinger

(1995:155), Jung used two principle amplifications in relation with the symbol of

the shepherd, that of the ‘Shepherd of Hermas’ and the Emerald Tablet of

Hermes.

In earlier old kingdom Egyptian writings by a scribe called Ipu, God was

described as the good shepherd and was associated with the expression of ultimate

goodness of the world and its governance (Rundle Clarke, 1978:69). Rundle

Clarke (1978:69) is also of the opinion that these particular writings indicate the

underlying monotheism of the Egyptian religion which Rohl (1998) refers to as

syncretism, the integration of polytheist godlike characteristics into the body of

one god.

Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:873) assert that the symbolisation of the

shepherd as the nomad signifies freedom from earthly obligations, but with a

watchful responsibility towards the flock by guiding them with the foreknowledge

of a peaceful pasture. Through the different duties which he performs, the

shepherd is regarded as a wise man whose activities are the result of

contemplation and inner vision and consequently symbolises the Self.

This symbolism of “a spiritual leader guiding the body of his disciples along the

path of truth and salvation” was also reflected in Buddhism, referred to by the

Buddha as “‘The monk’s pasture’ whose birthright is the domain of spiritual

realisation, from which he should not stray nor fear of running into serious

danger. The danger resides ‘among the four stages of watchfulness, in the

forbidden pasture’, the domain of the senses” (Chevalier & Gheerbrant,

1996:873).

Von Franz (1964:209) indicates that the Self does not always take the form of a

wise old man or wise old woman and may appear as a young man or young

woman. These paradoxical personifications are attempts to express something that

is not entirely contained in time - something simultaneously young and old. The

youth “signifies a renewal of life, a creative élan vital, and a new spiritual


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orientation by means of which everything becomes full of life and enterprise”

(Von Franz, 1964:210). Consequently, the shepherd boy signifies the chosen

youth, destined to find his hidden treasure or his true Self.

iv The female/feminine (the girl, the old gypsy woman and Fatima)

Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:374) indicate that Goethe in ‘Faust’, part two

refers to the feminine, also described as the ‘Eternal Feminine’, as that which

attracts the male to transcendence. Additionally, Teilhard de Chardin (cited in

Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:374) saw in the phrase ‘Eternal Feminine’ the

name of love itself as a major cosmic force which impels towards transcendence

and self-development, and consequently the feminine symbolises an “aspect of

being which draws together and unifies”.

Estés (1992:12-14) refers to the archetype of the ‘wild woman’, related to the

‘eternal feminine’ as personified in “the woman who lives at the end of time… and

the edge of the world”, who is the “friend and mother of all those who have lost

their way…all those in the forest and desert wandering and searching”. She may

be described as the life and death force, the incubator and the ‘loyal heart’ who

lives in trees and tears, and who is from the past and heralds the future reflected in

a myriad ways in stories, myths and legends.

Two important historical events, one of a reported heavenly appearance of Mother

Mary and one of a prominent person may be associated with the name ‘Fatima’.

Mother Mary appeared six times to three shepherd children in the Portuguese

town of Fatima in 1917, warning of an impending global catastrophe should

humankind not change their sinful ways. The recently deceased Pope John Paul II,

who visited the town of Fatima, to which regular pilgrimages are undertaken, and

was known for his reverence of Mother Mary, said; “‘the message of Fatima is

more relevant and more urgent’ then when Our Lady first appeared” (Fatima,

[sa]).

The name of the daughter of Mohammed the Prophet was ‘Fatima’ who was born

in Mecca and is revered amongst Muslims. She received the epithet of ‘The

universal lady’ by Ayatullah Sayyid Muhammad Husayn Fadhlullah during an


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address on the anniversary of the ‘Martyrdom of Sayyida’ (Fatima [as]). She was

also called ‘the mother of her father’ and ‘paradise’ by her father the Prophet who

was believed to have said; “when I long for Paradise, all I have to do is smell

Fatima. She is made from Paradise” (Bahsoun, [sa]; Walhamdo Lillahi Rabbil

Aalameen, 2005).

v The hidden treasure

The hidden or buried treasure generally is a symbol of “knowledge and

immortality, the spiritual storehouses which can only be reached after a perilous

quest” (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:1026). The treasure is also usually guarded

by dragons or monsters which signify dangerous psychic entities which need to be

overcome by having the necessary qualifications and by taking proper

precautions. Houston (1996:89) asserts that the search for the treasure, associated

with the hero’s journey, is a road of successive trails, fraught with “incredible

tests and extraordinary adventure”. Since the treasure is usually buried

underground, it symbolises the difficulties inherent in its quest and the fact that

individual effort is essential. Consequently, the treasure is not freely given and

can only be found at the end of a long series of suffering which signifies that the

buried treasure is in actuality a sign of a spiritual and moral inner life and the

monsters and dragons represent aspects of the Self (Chevalier & Gheerbrant,

1996:1026).

The quest for a hidden treasure is usually associated with the hero who has to

face his/her own mortality in finding the treasure. Chevalier and Gheerbrant

(1996:503) state that “the hero symbolizes the developmental drive (the basic

desire), the confrontational situation of the human soul in its battle with the

monsters of perversion”. The hero, associated with the sun, consequently is the

motive for creative development (Chetwynd, 1993b:198). Jung (cited in Chevalier

& Gheerbrant, 1996:503) identified the hero with spiritual power and the victory

that is gained over the ego. Von Franz (1997:165) describes the hero as an

archetype which functions to assist individuals in difficult transitions.

Edinger (1995:313) and Chetwynd (1993b:199) too allude to the stages of the

hero’s journey concurring with, and portraying the structure and sequence of the


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developing ego, specifically the stages of development of childhood and youth.

The perils and suffering associated with the discovery of the treasure is situated

on the threshold of the unconscious with the most difficult task being the

discovery of unconscious contents often symbolised by the anima in the case of a

male and the animus in the case of a female. Frequently the plot of the hero’s

journey is depicted as a pattern within a pattern with the bigger pattern

symbolising the hero’s life, but the same pattern repeated in terms of the diverse

stages of the journey (Chetwynd, 1993b:199). Overall, the discovery of a hidden

treasure symbolises the birth of a new consciousness and ‘the gift of the gods’

depicted by special powers and magical objects, for example, a magic sword is

related to inner gifts and latent powers needed in the battle to overcome

unconscious content (Chetwynd, 1993b:200).

vi The wise old man: Melchizedek, king of Salem

Von Franz (1964:209) indicates that a representation of the ‘wise old man’ is a

typical personification of the Self akin to the sorcerer Merlin of medieval legend

or to Hermes, which Jung (1968:37) refers to as the archetype of meaning. The

wise old man as a representation of the archetype of meaning goes back in line,

according to Jung (1968:36), to the figure of the medicine man in primitive

societies and the enlightener, the master and teacher in more modern times.

In both the Chinese and Indian symbolic expressions, the king is associated with

the quintessence of the initiation, motivation and regulation of cosmic movement.

For example in Hindu tradition, it is held that; “The Lordship of the Universe is

kingship” (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:567). The basic duties of these ‘centre’

rulers or kings were the establishment of justice and peace, and were viewed as

the embodiment of the wisdom, balance and harmony of the world.

Jung (cited in Robertson, 1997:132) indicated that the relationship between a wise

old man and a young hero is typical of the “Peur/Senex” problem depicted in

various myths. The “Peur/Senex” problem relates to the need to reconcile

traditional wisdom represented by the ‘Senex’ with innovative ideas associated

with the need to change represented by the ‘Peur’.


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Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:568) explain that, Guénon too has drawn

attention to the symbolism of the Three Wise Men as representatives of

primordial tradition whose presents to the Christ-child bear witness to their

recognition of his duties as king (gold), priest (frankincense) and prophet (myrrh).

The Egyptian equivalent to the kings was the Pharaoh, meaning ‘great house’ and

consequently denoting the palace and its occupant, who was regarded as of the

same nature as the Sun and the godhead (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:567).

Meeks and Meeks (1999:122) indicate that the king was the god’s “sole

interlocutor” and “indispensable mediator” who performed certain rituals in the

temple of the god to preserve equilibrium in the universe since the temple was

considered as a closed space and microcosm of the world. This assertion is echoed

by Chetwynd (1993b:236) who says that the king is responsible for cohesion and

the equilibrium of the structure of life, whether it be the psyche, community or

cosmos. A similar notion is expressed in Africa, since it is believed that the king

symbolises “the one who holds all life, human and cosmic, in his hands and is

hence the key-stone of society and the universe” (Chevalier & Gheerbrant,

1996:567).

Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:567) indicate that the ‘the king’ is also viewed as

a projection of the ‘higher ego’, the equivalent of the Jungian Self as an ideal state

to be realised. The king, as a central authority, is thus truly a symbol of the Self

(Edinger, 1972:144). Additionally, the symbol of the king evokes a longing for

independence and self-governance and of basic understanding and awareness

similar to the hero, saint, father and sage, thus “the archetype of human perfection

and energizes every spiritual element to that end” (Chevalier & Gheerbrant,

1996:567). Chetwynd (1993b:201) equates the image of the ‘old king’ with the

collective or communal consciousness from which the individual needs to be

liberated in order to establish a sense of self-determining existence – the Self.

Additionally, Chetwynd (1993b:235) asserts that the “ritual renewal of the king,

either by replacement or regeneration”, symbolises transformation and

transcendence. The symbol of the king may also connote an “arbitrator of inner

values” and may combine the attributes of the ‘hero’ and the ‘Wise Old Man’. In


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alchemy, the king was the personification of the process of transformation of the

‘Master Work’, reflected in the four main stages of turning base metals into gold.

Significantly, Jacobs (2003:67) indicates that the symbol of the king represents a

recurring pattern or motif which represents a common thread that runs in society’s

distinctive myths and legends.

An example of the previously mentioned functions of a king may be identified in

“Melchizedek [who] is the King of Righteousness [and] who rules over Salem,

City of Peace whose [symbolic] attributes were the sword and the scales”


Melchizedek is also referred to as ‘the Prince and Priest of Salem, city of peace’

(now Jerusalem) and is associated with the Essenes, a secret spiritual society

referenced in the Dead Sea Scrolls (discovered in 1947), who followed the ‘Order

of Melchizedek’ in their ‘School of Prophets’ apparently founded by Elijah. The

Essenes were known as the ‘People or Children of Light’ and reportedly, their

principles and doctrines can be traced back to Hermes Trismegistus, Pythagoras

and the practice of ‘hermeticism’ (Moore, 1999:196). The Essene priests were

known as ‘the Teachers of Righteousness’ (Moore, 1999:205). Additionally,

Melchizedek was associated with ‘The Great White Brotherhood’, a community

of spiritual saints, the name being derived from the ‘white light of purity’. The

Essenes were also linked to Zoroastrianism, Jewish Cabbalistic practices and the

Cathars (Moore, 1999:197). Melchizedek is referred to in the Christian Bible in

Genesis (14:18) as having blessed Abraham, who in turn tithed him a tenth of all

his possessions.

vii The soul of the world; soul of the universe

The word ‘soul’ calls to mind associations with an imperceptible power and

supernatural ‘spirit’ either as part of a living individual or merely as a

phenomenon of life. The soul underpins a whole series of symbols, primary of

which is ‘breath’ and all its derivatives. The Latin etymological explanation for

‘breath’ is the word ‘animus’ which also relates to ‘air’, both associated with

principles of life (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:892).


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Wili (1982:77) explains that the terms ‘animus’ and ‘spiritus’, representing

‘breath’ and ‘breath of life’ respectively, were presumably used as extensions of

the concept ‘motive force’ by the Fathers of the Latin Church and the New

Testament under the influence of Roman Platonists and the Stoics. However, the

universal concept of ‘air’ was first postulated by Anaximenes, an Ionian natural

philosopher from Asia Minor, who preceded the Platonists and the Stoics, and

established a decisive relationship between humankind and cosmos: both are

formed and sustained by one air. “To the breath of man corresponds the breath of

the cosmos. The air is soul, and thus a world soul is postulated” (Wili, 1982:80).

The “principle new ideas” of Anaximenes, which then formed the foundations of

the new metaphysics of the Greeks, included ‘air’, the origin of cosmos and

humankind; ‘breath’ which moves the cosmos and humankind; and ‘vapour’ or

‘pneuma’, which is transformed into fire and from fire to pure sunlight. Wili

(1982:80) asserts that four diverse quarters adapted, expanded and sharpened

Anaximenes’s ideas including; Heraclitus, the Pythagoreans, the Eleastics, and

“the physicians”, including Hippocrates.

The vital heat component of pneuma was closely related to and often identified

with pure ethereal fire, which was considered as the soul of the universe, and “its

origins established a true kinship between the soul and Heaven” (Chevalier &

Gheerbtant, 1996:896). Wili (1982:80) indicates that this ‘kinship’ was further

developed by Heraclitus’s theory of the ‘spirit’, “the helmsman of the universe”

being the parallel of ‘logos’ which is “the great mystery of the soul, its innermost

essence”. Through breathing, the inward lives and participates in the outward.

Breath is the vehicle of the logos and thus joins the microcosm and the

macrocosm. “The logos in us and the logos in the universe are one and the same”

(Wili, 1982:82). Consequently, it is reflecting the principle of ‘One in All’, and

‘All is One’.

The concepts of the spirit and soul of the world and the universe were not only

advanced in the West. Ancient, African and Eastern philosophers and scholars

expressed them in several works related to transcendental realms of reality and

religion, and postulated an underlying order or soul and spirit in the human,


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animal and plant worlds which are currently still portrayed in fairy tales, myths

and symbols (Jung 1931 in Sabini, 2000:112; Jung, 1982a:7; Jung, 1982b:368).

Sardello (1992) refers to the soul and creator of the world as derived from Gnostic

myth as ‘Pistis Sophia’, the universal archetype of the great mother earth and also

attributes post-modern calamities such as world poverty and diseases to separation

from this world soul ‘Sophia’. Jung (2002:162), Houston (1996:324) and Von

Franz (1980a:210) refer to the world soul as the anima mundi, similar to the Ur-

mother of Palaeolithic and early Neolithic times, who was known “in her utter

and absolute suchness” and Isis, a major goddess of ancient Egypt (Houston,

1996:324). Von Franz (1980a:213) also refers to the anima mundi as the wisdom

of God.

viii The Warriors of the Light

The differentiation between light as a symbol and light as a metaphor is

seemingly, according to Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:600), ill-defined and

disparate, but is realigned when it is regarded as an aspect of the uniform

universe. By being paired with darkness, light symbolises the intermittent

sequential qualities of an evolution since at all levels of human life, and at every

cosmic level, a ‘dark’ period is followed by a ‘light’ or regenerate period. The

symbolism of emerging from the ‘darkness’ is repeatedly found in the growth

process of seeded plants, in initiation rituals, as well as in the mythology of death

and in the concept of ‘historical’ cycles. This alternating rhythm of light and dark

is especially of significance in Eastern myths, whereas in Western myths, light is

associated with, for example, the hero’s struggle against the forces of the dark

(Chetwynd, 1993a:104).

Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:600) too assert that phrases such as ‘Divine

Light’ or ‘Spiritual Light’ reflect an Eastern influence and for Chinese Buddhists

mean ‘Enlightenment’. Additionally, in the Jewish Kabala, the diffusion of light

(Aor) from the primordial ‘dot’ created space which is symbolically similar to the

words ‘Let there be light’ and the ‘Word’ in the Book of Genesis, associated with

enlightenment and order out of chaos through vibration. In India and China, as in

the Book of Genesis, the first work of Creation was the separation of light and


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darkness, which were ‘interfused’ in the beginning. “A ‘return to the beginning of

things’ might therefore find expression in the resolution of this duality and the re-

creation of primordial unity” (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:600). Christ was

also linked with light since He is perceived as the Light in everyone, designating

an inner change to enter a Divine Realm which was “within, here and now and

universal” (Chetwynd, 1993a:106). This statement corresponds with Edinger’s

(1995:49) assertion that ‘Primal Man’ was considered as the ‘Soul of the Light’ in

Manichaean myth.

Light may also be interpreted as ‘direct knowledge’, hence experiential

knowledge as opposed to reflected, ‘rational and discursory’ knowledge.

Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:600), and Chetwynd (1993b:104) explain that, in

more general terms, light and darkness constitute a universal duality expressed in,

for example, the yin and yang, operating as indivisible correlatives, depicted in

the West as that of angels and devils, in India that of ‘deva’ and ‘asura’, and in

China that of celestial and terrestrial influences. Chetwynd (1993b:242)

additionally associates light with conscious life.

The famous Emerald Table, which reportedly was authored by Hermes

Trismegistus and which was revered by alchemists for hundreds of years, explains

the creation of the world as: “The first thing to appear was the light of the Word

of God. Light bore action, action bore movement and movement bore heat”


ix The stone, emeralds and Emerald Tablet

Von Franz (1964:221) alleges that, while the human being is as different as

possible from a stone, humanity’s innermost centre is in a strange and special way

akin to it in the sense that the stone symbolises the simplest and deepest

experiences of the eternal and unalterable, specifically in moments of feelings of

mortality and uncertainty.

According to Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:932), there are close links between

the soul and stone as reflected in alchemy. In alchemical symbolism, the

Philosopher’s Stone, sometimes regarded as a symbol of Christ, is the instrument


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of regeneration, and, in turn, was symbolised by “the pyramid on a cube base as a

symbol of the spiritual principle founded upon ‘salt’ and Earth” (Chevalier &

Gheerbrant, 1996:934). This statement concurs with Jung’s (1969:67, 87-88)

assertions that the lapis philosophorum (philosopher’s stone) in alchemy shows a

remarkable resemblance as parallels to Jesus as the stone, the rock and the

cornerstone as described in the Bible. Von Franz (1980a:189) also indicates that

in alchemy, the philosopher’s stone may be associated with the wisdom of God.

The symbol of the stone clearly has a religious connotation since in the Christian

Bible, Peter is considered as the foundation stone, the rock upon which Christ will

build his church (Matthew 16:18). Additionally, Matthew (21:42) and Luke

(20:17) refer to Christ as “the stone which the builders rejected is become the

head of the corner” (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:934).

Stones are also symbols of the ‘Earth-Mother’ since in a number of traditions,

precious stones were believed to have been “‘born’ from rocks, having ‘ripened’

within them, the rock itself being a living thing which transmits life” (Chevalier &

Gheerbrant, 1996:933). Chetwynd (1993b:385), however, indicates that jewels

and precious stones are the symbols of what is truly precious in the unconscious

and may become the symbolic vessel of an individual’s life, energy and time.

Regarded as a powerful yet mysterious stone, the emerald was considered as a

powerful talisman in medieval folklore and as an elemental manifestation of

power. Hence, the emerald is essentially an expression of the seasonal renewal of

nature and therefore of the Earth’s positive forces. In this sense, it is a symbol of

spring, of the manifestation of life and of evolution as opposed to the deathly,

regressive forces of winter. Additionally, the “Holy Grail of Western chivalry”

was believed to have been carved from a mystical emerald (Chevalier &

Gheerbrant, 1996:267, 352).

The alchemists regarded the emerald, which they called ‘Maydew’, as a symbol of

mercurial dew, a by-product from the fused metal at the moment when it was

transmuted into vapour in the still, and as the stone of Mercury (Hermes


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Trismegistus and embodiment of the Egyptian god Thoth) (Chevalier &

Gheerbrant, 1996:351).

The famous Emerald Tablet, attributed to Apolionius of Tyana or Hermes

Trismegistus which included ‘The Secrets of Creation’ and ‘The Science of the

Causes of All Things’, is, according to Sardello (1992:170), the primary

document of the hermetic tradition. Inherent in the Greek myths regarding

Hermes is the philosophy of the world soul and accounts regarding the ongoing

creation of the world soul (Sardello, 1992:171). The unity in the world soul is

reflected in some of the features of the Emerald Tablet including; “that which is

above is like that which is below, and that which is below is like that which is

above, to accomplish the miracle of one thing” (quoted in Sardello, 1992:171-

172). Edinger (1995:158) maintains that Jung viewed this alchemical formula, a

very succinct recipe for the philosopher’s stone, as a summary of the process of

individuation.

x Water and an oasis

According to Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:1081) and Chetwynd (1993b:422),

the symbolic meaning of water may be categorised into three main areas; as a

source of life – the underlying essence of life; as a vehicle of cleansing; and as a

centre of regeneration. These three themes are found in most ancient traditions

and provide both a varied and coherent combination of images associated with

water. For example, the Hindu Rig Veda refers to the waters which bring life,

strength and cleansing on both the spiritual and the physical planes. According to

Hindu scriptures, “All was water”, it is ‘prakrti’, or ‘materia prima’ (Chevalier &

Gheerbrant, 1996:1081). Moore (1999:328) asserts that water was used in the first

stage of the initiation process in Egyptian rituals and is still used in the baptism of

babies as soon as possible after their birth.

Furthermore, Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:1082) claim that various symbolic

interpretations of water are “virtually universal”. These universal interpretations

of water include:

The notion of primordial waters as an ocean from which all things began;


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The idea of water as the spring and channel of all life, hence in some Indian

Tantric allegories, water stands for the breath of life, prana;

As the universal symbol of fertility and fecundity;

As a generative principle;

As a beverage of immortality;

As a substance of ritual purification; and

As the symbolisation of wisdom.

Additionally, alchemical mercury was considered as ‘water’ and was sometimes

described as ‘fiery water’. Consequently, water may be described as both the

source of life and of death, as creator and destroyer. Water represents “a passing

phase of regression and disintegration which brings with it a progressive phase of

reintegration and regeneration” (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:1081).

In the Old Testament, wells in the desert and springs used by nomads represented

joyous places where miraculous events took place. Hence, the waterside plays an

important part in the lives of individuals. “Here love comes into being and

marriages are solemnized. The wanderings of the Children of Israel and the

earthly pilgrimage of the human soul are intimately involved with external or

internal contact with water, the latter becoming an oasis of light and peace”

(Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:1081, 1082).

Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:1084) assert that Jesus re-echoed this symbolism

in his meeting with the woman of Samaria when He said in John 4:14,

“whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst”.

Subsequently, water, which was above all a symbol of life in the Old Testament,

becomes a symbol of the Spirit in the New Testament since Jesus Christ revealed

himself to the ‘Woman of Samaria’ as the living waters. Accordingly, running

water, the water of life, and the fountain of youth stand out as a “cosmogonic”

symbol of re-birth since it purifies, regenerates and heals (Chevalier &


However, as has been stated in a previous paragraph, water may also be

associated with the power to damage and destroy and may thus reflect the


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workings of death and destruction. The ‘great waters’ foretold in the Old

Testament represent ordeals, and the ‘unleashing of the waters’ is the symbol of

great calamities and, like fire, water may be used as a trial by ordeal (Chevalier &


Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:1088) indicate that in many creation myths,

“standing water represents the protoplasm of the Earth from which all life

sprang” – hence standing water signifies ‘the primordial waters’. Similarly,

ancient Egyptian mythology generally depicts the creation as a mound of silt

emerging from ‘the waters’. This belief was also reflected in that most Egyptian

temple complexes had a lake called ‘the Sacred Lake’. Derived from these

symbols, water may be viewed both as the source of the fecundation of Earth and

its inhabitants, and of the soul’s fecundation (Chevalier & Gheerbrant,

1996:1088-9).

In Africa, water is the most precious element, and reportedly, each river, stream

or pool has a spirit and god. A water-god or goddess may be a crocodile, snake or

a hippopotamus (Knappert, 1995:257).

The unconscious is, according to Jung (1968:18), primarily symbolised by water

which means “spirit that has become unconscious”. He also states that, in the

“world of water”, everything lies in suspension and the individual experiences the

‘other’ in him or herself and the subsequent emergence of the Self.

xi Butterfly

Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:140) and Cooper (1995:36) maintain that the

symbolism of a butterfly is based upon its metamorphoses and regeneration. The

chrysalis, containing the egg which signifies the prospective of ‘being’ and the

butterfly which emerges from it, is the symbol of resurrection, rebirth and also the

departure of the soul from the body at death. Consequently, the butterfly may

signify the soul of the dead.

According to Cooper (1995a:36), in Christian art, the butterfly depicts the risen

soul, whereas the development stages of the butterfly signifies life, death and


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resurrection. In Greek, Chinese and Japanese symbolism, the butterfly is also

associated with immortality.

xii Urim and Thummim, and gold breastplate with precious stones

Limited information is available on the nature and origin of the Urim and the

Thummim. Reference in the Bible in Exodus 28:30 states “And thou shalt put in

the breastplate of judgment the Urim and the Thummim; and they shall be upon

Aaron’s heart, when he goeth in before the Lord: and Aaron shall bear the

judgment of the children of Israel upon his heart before the Lord continually”.

Little et al (2003:157) indicate that the Hebrew words Urim and Thummim mean

“the Light [revelation] and the Truth [perfection]”, and were considered special

means of “attunement” to be used by Aaron for establishing of the priesthood of

the Levites. The association of Urim and Thummim with ‘light’ and ‘perfection’

is, according to Gardner (cited in Hall, 1957:CXXXVI), a striking analogy to the

two figures of Re (Ra) and Themi in a breastplate worn by the Egyptians.

In accord with Jewish tradition, the Jewish High Priest was instructed to wear

them underneath a jewelled breastplate next to his heart. The breastplate of a

Hebrew High Priest was, according to the Jewish Encyclopaedia (cited in Little et

al, 2003:158), part of his “priestly dress”. The robes and adornments or ‘priestly

dresses’ of the Jewish priests had “a secret significance, concealed in the colours,

forms, and uses of sacred garments”. In addition to various robes, the High Priest

wore a pectoral or an ‘Essen’ referred to as the “Breastplate of Righteousness and

Prophecy, [or the Oracle] which, as its name signifies, was also an oracle of great

power (Hall, 1957:CXXXVI)”. Hall (1957:CXXXIV) describes it as a square

frame of embroidery with twelve set stones engraved with the names of the

twelve tribes of Israel held in individual sockets of gold.

A pocket in the reverse side of the Essen, or breastplate, contained the mysterious

Urim and Thummim, which were used in divination, however, little else is now

known about them (Hall, 1957:CXXXVI). Amidst much speculation, most Bible

scholars assert that they may have been used as a type of oracle to receive ‘Divine

Guidance’ and were stones made of either lapis lazuli or sapphire. Some


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historians indicate that they may have been engraved with the name of the

Jehovah which the priest used to focus and hence to receive prophetic revelation.

One historian, Josephus, indicates that the origin of the use of the stones preceded

Moses and may have been worn in ancient Egypt by Egyptian judges, suspended

by a gold chain (Little et al, 2003:159). Additionally, according to Little et al

(2003:159), the Urim and Thummim seem to be similar to the “Tablets of

Destiny” described in ancient Assyrian/Babylonian texts. Hall (1957:CXXXVI)

explains that some authors believe that the Urim and Thummim were in the form

of dice, used for deciding events by being cast upon the ground, whereas others

maintain that they were sacred names, written on plates of gold and carried as a

talisman.

xiii Journey

The symbolism of journeys may be viewed as the quest for truth, peace or

immortality, and the search for and discovery of a spiritual centre which includes

a series of ordeals which supposedly prepare the seeker for initiation and are

found in numerous myths of various cultures both current and ancient (Chevalier

& Gheerbrant, 1996:555). Chetwynd (1993b:228) explains that the events and

encounters on a journey in living experiences re-appear in images in the active

imagination representing the archetypal features of the human psyche.

Consequently, the journey in search of a treasure represents the search for an

elusive part of the Self lost in unconsciousness (Chetwynd, 1993b:229;

Chetwynd, 1993a:212), and may also, according to Jung (1934b:142), be a

representation of rebirth. James (cited in Chetwynd, 1993a:212) views the journey

of the soul as a vertical descent, “back in time for which great patience is

needed”.

Journeys representing spiritual enterprises are depicted in ancient shamanic,

Egyptian, Greek, and Eastern societies (Chetwynd, 1993a:212-213). For example,

the ancient Egyptian and Tibetan books of the dead depict a symbolic journey

which is undertaken after death and which is primarily concerned with the

progress of the soul through states of development and advancement (Budge,

2001:66; Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:556). Consequently, journeys give


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expression to a deep-seated desire for internal change and a need for a new range

of experience rather than merely a change of location.

Although most symbols of the journey are associated with positive outcomes of

growth and advancement, according to Jung (cited in Chevalier & Gheerbrant,

1996:557), they may also indicate a lack of satisfaction, which prompts the search

for and discovery of new horizons. Thus, if the quest involves a flight from the

self, a sense of satisfaction may never be achieved and the quest may remain an

inaccessible unknown and the traveller may never find what they have been trying

to escape - themselves. In this sense, journeys become signs and symbols of

deliberate and constant self-blindness. “One is therefore forced to conclude that

the only worthwhile journey is the one which the individual undertakes within

him- or herself” (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:557).

xiv Sword

The sword is the symbol of the warrior who is associated with virtue, valour and

power. In turn, power possesses a dual aspect of destruction and justice, since the

destruction of injustice, crime and ignorance, through the use of the sword, may

become a constructive element. The sword hence establishes and maintains peace

and justice. “All these symbols apply literally to the sword as an emblem of

kingship” (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:959).

Moreover, both the creative, constructive and the destructive aspects of the sword

may be associated with the ‘Word’, ‘speech’ and ‘Logos’ because of their

reference in The Book of Revelation as the two-edged sword in the mouth of the

‘Word’ (Raff, 2000:102; Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:959; Chetwynd,

1993b:289). The Crusaders, according to Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:959)

used to associate the sword with fragments of the ‘Cross of Light’, consequently

the sword may also symbolise light and lightning. “Their blades glitter and hence,

swords are fire and the angels who drove Adam and Eve out of Paradise carried

flaming swords” (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:959; Chetwynd, 1993b:388). The

association of the sword with fire is also relayed in alchemy since, in alchemical

terms, ‘the Philosopher’s Sword’ is the fire in the furnace (Chevalier &



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Chetwynd (1993b:388) asserts that the sword is associated with both the

principles of order and rationality which discriminates, divides and separates, and

intuition, since, symbolically the sword “penetrates below the surface, thrusts to

the core of the matter, indicating insight”. Jung (2000:103) concludes that the

sword signifies more than just the principle of discrimination, and describes it as

the pivotal symbolic component during the process of individuation and

specifically the confrontation between the conscious and unconscious. The sword

symbolises the “ordering function of the consciousness” and, according to Raff

(2000:103), this function is essential in the descent of the conscious mind into the

“inner world”, since it brings the “light of reason and discrimination” and

redemption to the ‘chaos’ of the unknown of the unconscious. Consequently, the

sword is the implement of transformation and symbolises the process of change

itself (Raff, 2000:104).

6.4.1.2 Interpretation of part one, first union: Spain: ‘Unio Mentalis’

The first stage of transformation or the first union, as was posited by Jung, is explained

by Robertson (1995:252) as primarily characterised by a growing awareness of unknown

contents of the individual psyche emerging from the unconscious and hence from a

previously undifferentiated form. The state of ‘undifferentiation’ is supposedly rooted in

the unus mundus and consequently, an unconscious unity is separated by consciousness

of previously unknown content. Since each stage of union is preceded by a conscious

separation of mental elements from a previous state of union, these previously unknown

elements need to be reintegrated with the conscious psyche of the individual. During the

first stage, contents emerging from the unconscious needs to be integrated into conscious

awareness – hence a mental union or ‘unio mentalis’.

In the text of ‘The ‘Alchemist’, two important impellent symbols, serving as ‘heralds’ of

an immanent need to change, may be identified as the recurrent dream and the meeting

with the daughter of the village merchant. The girl may be equated with the ‘Eternal

Feminine’ (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:374) or anima and as that which attracts the

male (animus) to transcendence by posing as the unsettling feminine/negative

component of opposing poles normally held in creative tension by a field of unity,


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certainty, harmony and equilibrium. The introduction of the girl, signifying change,

threatens this balance and stability experienced by the shepherd boy, creating a negative

tension and subsequently all action is aimed at its reduction. The felt impatience of the

boy is reflected in his behaviour displayed towards his flock which is characteristic of

tension and threatening instability.

Dreams, especially recurrent dreams, as manifest symbolic content of the unconscious,

are indicative of the archetypal ‘Self’, as transcendent ‘helmsman’, striving to encourage

the ‘limited’ ego to embark on a path of development by turning ‘inwards’ and heeding

the messages of the unconscious. The need to expand and develop may also be derived

from the description of an abandoned church in the narrative, indicating a neglect of

the development of the Self and stagnancy of the ego. The symbol of the church may

thus signify a need for the expansion of confining mental patterns. The church and tree

as symbols of the Self may signify essential growth, and the reference to specifically the

sycamore tree signifies life and re-birth. Moreover, the tree, due to its association with a

triadic union may also serve to represent the need for the reintegration of the conscious

and unconscious.

Consequently, these two occurrences in the life of Santiago, a shepherd boy, either may

signify the age-old human struggle of an external versus an internal locus of attention,

hence reason and intuition, or may allude to synchronous acausal events, typical of

impending and significant life-changing events. The girl may also serve as a distraction

in terms of realising a destiny and qualify as a perilous initial ‘choice’. The events may

also be indicative of an intimate relationship between the personal unconscious and the

collective unconscious – the unus mundus, alluded to by the old gypsy woman’s

signifying the earth soul Sophia, reference to dreams being ‘the language of God’ and

the ‘language of the soul’.

In terms of the aforementioned amplification, the name ‘Santiago’ and the words

‘shepherd boy’ allude to a preordained or destined spiritual path, journey and pilgrimage

of souls or ‘warriors of Light’ in search of a hidden treasure – transcendent

transformation and Self-realisation. This is reminiscent of the ‘ways’ of Santiago

Matamoros, (St James or the apostle James), Jesus, the Christ, and Hermes

Trismegistus, signified through the reference to the Emerald Tablet, all of whose lives


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may be viewed as allegories of the shepherd and guardian of men’s path of perils in

rebirth awaiting the individual in the ‘death’ of the ego and the ‘birth’ of the Self. The

lives of Hermes Trismegistus, Christ and St James signify that the hidden treasure is an

‘inward’ journey in search of the Self supported by the reference to the sacristy which is

a room in a Christian church in which sacred objects and vestments related to sacred

religions ceremonies and worship are kept (Encarta, 1999:1650). The ‘inner way’ is

furthermore indicated by the symbolic references to Hermes Trismegistus’s association

with the bridge between conscious and unconscious content. The term ‘shepherd’ also

alludes to ‘inner alchemy’ due to the signification of Hermes Trismegistus, the father of

alchemy, as the shepherd of men. Moreover, the shepherd signifies the role of the Self as

the ‘good shepherd’ leading the ego to growth and transcendence.

The wise old man, in his capacities as both the king and the magician, is the helpful

figure who, according to Jung (1968:217), can assist the hero when he is in a hopeless

and difficult situation. Paradoxically, he signifies both wisdom and destructive power

symbolised by the sword and his numinous power not bound by earthly time and

constraints. Specifically the reference to Melchizedek who represents the ‘King of

Righteousness’, ruler of Salem, City of Peace and the quintessence of initiation,

motivation and regulation of cosmic movement (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:567),

signify the required discernment (wisdom), resoluteness, commitment (payment of one

tenth) and moral approach in the quest for the hidden treasure. Since the symbol of the

sword relates to both the principles of order and rationality and intuition, it may be seen

as essential in the descent of the conscious mind into the “inner world” or unconscious to

initiate the required mental union of the conscious and unconscious. The sword,

representing the masculine principle of Logos, conscious thought and discrimination,

may also allude to the need for these qualities as the conscious mind descends into the

inner world in order to survive the descent. The display of the sword by the wise old man

and king may also portray the austerity of the initiation of the Self into the ‘Order of the

Warriors of Light’, the ‘community of Saints’ and the foregone ‘Enlightened Ones’ such

as Santiago Matamoros, Christ, Melchizedek and Hermes Trismegistus.

The symbols of the Urim and Thummim and the gold breastplate worn by

Melchizedek as signs of communication between the mortal and immortal, and

conscious and unconscious allude to the element of choice between light and darkness


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and expectant assistance provided by the unconscious and universal forces. The essential

notion of duality is thus enhanced by the Urim and Thummim, the white and black

stones, and relate to Jung’s (1968:239) notion of ‘enantrodromia’ and “the bewildering

play of antinomies all aimed at the great goal of higher consciousness”, indicating that

good may come from evil and that evil may result from good choices.

The contrasting of the boy with the wise old man may also relate to Jung’s (cited in

Robertson, 1997:132) notion of the relationship between a wise old man and a young

hero which is typical of the “Peur/Senex” problem depicted in various myths. However,

the narration also, through its reference to the shepherd boy, depicts the hero as naïve

and innocent in relationship to the enormity of the quest ahead.

The assistance is provided by ‘the soul of the world’ and ‘the soul of the universe’ on the

journey of transcendence. This is evident in the following passage from the text: “When

you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it” [The wise

old man and the King had said]. In this instance, the king and wise old man signify the

Self as a wise, guiding light and coercing force acting as interlocutor between the

conscious, unconscious and the collective unconscious signified by the reference to the

Warriors of Light and the souls of the universe and world. The reference to the Urim

and Thummim also indicates the need to rely on the transcendent wisdom of the soul of

the world (the collective unconscious) in the interpretation of omens along the path of

the quest.

Hope as well as despair may be portrayed by the reference to flowing water as both an

aid to and hindrance in the search, and hence signifies a first stage in the initiation which

consists of either a cleansing and regeneration or a overwhelming experience of

disillusionment on the journey of uncovering the precious stone – the Self.

Consequently, the journey may end in either a triumphant discovery of gold (the Self),

the re-gaining of equilibrium and synthesis (the pyramids), or a disintegration into the

familiarity and tedium of a safe and certain previous state of existence, where water

signifies the stagnant ‘black void’ of the ‘materia prima’.

A warning is signalled through the reference to the principle of favourability,

indicative of initial assistance by the ‘soul of the world’ and thereafter a need for inner


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self-reliance by way of ‘following the omens’ in the ensuing journey signified by the

delicate butterfly that appeared and fluttered between the boy and the old man. The call

of the wind, signifying the voice of God, similar to the voice of the Self – the alchemist,

however, signifies the call to the journey of transcendence despite the fear of taking the

first step.

6.4.1.3 Part one, second union: Tangiers: The union of the mind with the body

Upon his arrival in Tangiers, the boy was having refreshment in a bar in a busy bazaar

where he was approach by a Spanish speaking man who offered being his guide on the

way to Egypt. Following the man through the busy bazaar, he was distracted by the most

beautiful sword he had ever seen. The scabbard was embossed in silver, and the handle

was black and encrusted with precious stones. In the confusion of the busy bazaar, the

boy lost sight of the guide whom he had given his money to, supposedly to buy two

camels for the journey. The guide had disappeared with all his money. He was destitute

and demoralised, and in desperation, consulted the Urim and Thummim which indicated

that he still had the blessing of the old wise king, but before they could indicate whether

he would find his treasure, they fell through a hole in his pouch. He resolved to, from

hence fourth, make his own decisions and to follow the omens along the way. With no

money and no way to go back to Andalusia, he was put up by the owner of the bar where

he would eventually work and assist in selling crystals to foreign visitors in an effort to

pay his way back to Andalusia.

“The sun began its departure. The boy watched it through its trajectory for some time,

until it was hidden behind the white houses surrounding the plaza. He recalled that

when the sun had risen that morning, he was on another continent, still a shepherd with

sixty sheep, and looking forward to meeting with a girl. That morning he had known

everything that was going to happen to him as he walked through the familiar fields. But

now, as the sun began to set, he was in a different country, a stranger in a strange land,

where he couldn’t even speak the language. He was no longer a shepherd, and he had

nothing, not even the money to return and start everything over”.

“He opened his pouch to see what was left of his possessions; maybe there was a bit left

of the sandwich he had eaten on the ship. But all he found was the heavy book, his


321

jacket, and the two stones the old man had given him. He ran his fingers slowly over the

stones, sensing their temperature and feeling their surfaces. They were his treasure. Just

handling them made him feel better. They reminded him of the old man. “When you

want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it,” he had said.

The boy was trying to understand the truth of what the old man had said. There he was

in the empty marketplace, without a cent to his name, and with not a sheep to guard

through the night”.

The boy woke up in the bazaar feeling happy and relaxed since he decided the night

before that he would go in search of his treasure like the adventurers he read about in the

books. “Relaxed and unhurried, he resolved that he would walk through the narrow

streets of Tangier. Only in that way would he be able to read the omens. He knew it

would require a lot of patience, but shepherds know all about patience. Once again he

saw that, in that strange land, he was applying the same lessons he had learned with his

sheep” “All things are one?” the old man had said.

The boy entered a shop owned by a crystal merchant who believed in omens and had

spent thirty years of his life buying and selling crystal pieces, but who always had a

dream of going on a pilgrimage to Mecca and now it was too late to do anything else.

“I can clean up those glasses in the window, if you want?” said the boy. “The way they

look now, nobody is going to want to buy them?” The man looked at him without

responding. “In exchange, you could give me something to eat.” In half an hour, he had

cleaned all the glasses in the window, and, as he was doing so, two customers had

entered the shop and bought some crystal. When he had completed the cleaning, he

asked the man for something to eat. “Let’s go and have some lunch,” said the crystal

merchant. He put a sign on the door, and they went to a small café nearby. As they sat

down at the only table in the place, the crystal merchant laughed. “You didn’t have to

do any cleaning,” he said. “The Koran requires me to feed a hungry person?” “Well

then, why did you let me do it?” the boy asked. “Because the crystal was dirty. And both

you and I needed to cleanse our minds of negative thoughts.” When they had eaten, the

merchant turned to the boy and said, “I’d like you to work in my shop”.


322

“I can work for the rest of today?” the boy answered. “I’ll work all night, until dawn,

and I’ll clean every piece of crystal in your shop. In return, I need money to get to Egypt

tomorrow?”

The merchant laughed. “Even if you cleaned my crystal for an entire year, even if you

earned a good commission selling every piece, you would still have to borrow money to

get to Egypt. There are thousands of kilometres of desert between here and there.”

There was a moment of silence so profound that it seemed the city was asleep. No sound

from the bazaars, no arguments among the merchants, no men climbing to the towers to

chant. No hope, no adventure, no old kings or destinies, no treasure, and no Pyramids.

It was as if the world had fallen silent because the boy’s soul had. He sat there, staring

blankly through the door of the café, wishing that he had died, and that everything

would end forever at that moment.

The merchant looked anxiously at the boy. All the joy he had seen that morning had

suddenly disappeared. “I can give you the money you need to get back to your country,

my son?’ said the crystal merchant. The boy said nothing. He got up, adjusted his

clothing, and picked up his pouch. “I’ll work for you?” he said. And after another long

silence, he added, “I need money to buy some sheep.”

The boy had brought prosperity to the old merchant’s shop by introducing several new

ways of displaying the crystal glasses and giving customers mint tea in the glasses. The

merchant saw the boy as a good omen and paid him commission enabling him to earn

enough money to return to Spain, since he decided not to follow his dreams. Nearly a

year had passed and the boy was on his way back to Spain. On the last day, “He went

down the stairs and found the merchant waiting on a foreign couple, while two other

customers walked about the shop, drinking tea from crystal glasses. It was more activity

than usual for this time of the morning. From where he stood, he saw for the first time

that the old merchant’s hair was very much like the hair of the old king. He remembered

the smile of the candy seller, on his first day in Tangier, when he had nothing to eat and

nowhere to go - that smile had also been like the old king’s smile. It’s almost as if he

had been here and left his mark, he thought. And yet, none of these people has ever met


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the old king. On the other hand, he said that he always appeared to help those who are

trying to realize their destiny.

The hills of Andalusia were only two hours away, but there was an entire desert between

him and the Pyramids. Yet the boy felt that there was another way to regard his

situation: he was actually two hours closer to his treasure… the fact that the two hours

had stretched into an entire year didn’t matter. I know why I want to get back to my

flock, he thought. I understand sheep; they’re no longer a problem, and they can be

good friends. On the other hand, I don’t know if the desert can be a friend, and it’s in

the desert that I have to search for my treasure. If I don’t find it, I can always go home. I

finally have enough money, and all the time I need. Why not? He held Urim and

Thummim in his hand; because of those two stones, he was once again on the way to

find his treasure.

i Crystals

In addition to a vessel, tree, a flower, a light and a void filled with meaning, Von

Franz (1964:74, 221) mentions that the Self is symbolised as a stone, precious or

otherwise, including a crystal which often represents the union of extreme

opposites; matter and mind. Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:267) and Chetwynd

(1993b:111) indicate that it is the transparency of crystal that makes it one of the

best examples of “a marriage of opposites”, and since it is composed of matter,

“it allows the eye to see through it as though it were immaterial”. Consequently,

it represents an intermediate level between the visible and the invisible and may

be viewed as the divination, wisdom and of the hidden powers granted to

humankind.

In astrology, according to Chevalier & Gheerbrant (1996:267), crystal

corresponds to silver and the moon. Generally, crystal is connected with a foetus

both because it is “born from the rocks in the ground” and since in Indian

mineralogy, it is distinguished from the diamond by its embryological

development, “crystal being a diamond which has not reached its full time”.

In both Eastern and Western romantic narratives, the hero comes upon “crystal

palaces as they emerge from gloomy forests in their quest for the royal talisman”.


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In shamanism, the crystal plays an important role in the shaman’s clairvoyant

ability to identify illness and disease (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:267).

6.4.1.4 Interpretation of part one, second union: Tangiers: The union of the mind with the

body

The entire ‘second union’ is the rendering of a ‘wandering’ and ‘draught’ of the soul

similar to Jung’s postulation of the ‘dark night of the soul’, which signifies the

desolation and despair of mental imprisonment and indecisiveness characteristic of the

soul ‘in limbo’ signified by the reference to the ‘two stones’ – the Urim and Thummim.

The reference to the sun’s departure in the introductory text of the second stage which

implies darkness and the wretchedness experienced by the individual as an aftermath of

betrayal and loss, and signifies hopelessness. The warning of impending danger and

difficulty, and the need for resolve in following the chosen path is further supported by

and enhanced in the subsequent complacency and false security of money, robbery and

betrayal by a false guide, and the resultant regret of a journey undertaken experienced by

the shepherd boy. Jung (1968:146) asserts that the hero, in his quest of the discovery of

the Self is constantly under threat of “the impact of collective forces of the psyche”, and

suggests that during the beginning of a typical journey of individuation, the hero is

overwhelmed by threats and perils.

The encounter with the ‘false guide’ may also allude to the first encounter with the

‘shadow’. Jung (1969:8; 1968:284) indicates that in the beginning of the ‘journey of

individuation’, and hence the first encounter with the unconscious, the shadow is

experienced as part of the personal unconscious which contains aspects that the hero

refuses to accept about himself. Jung (1968:284) furthermore indicates that this shadowy

figure is always portrayed by writers and poets.

The need for contemplation and quiet reflection to gain clarity of choice is reflected in

the symbol of the crystal. The crystals are also a signification of the need for the

integration of conscious decision and inner guidance. The omens along the path of life

signify the synchronicity between inner and outer events during the journey of

transcendence.


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The perceived bleakness and hopelessness are signifiers of coming to terms with the

consequences of choices made, loss of material goods and betrayal of innocence. It is

thus the reaching of a humbling yet rejuvenating understanding through the

implementation of patience and meditative self-reflection contrasted with rebellion and

the questioning of the reality of concepts such as ‘destiny’, ‘the unity of all things’ and

inner guidance pivoting on the symbols of the crystals. The successive feelings of hope

and despair reflect the opposition of contents of the unconscious and established notions

of security of known yet confining patterns of behaviour. The crystal merchant, who

failed to follow his destiny, adds to the feeling of barrenness which is also reflected in

the comparative lack of symbolic representations in this part of the narration.

Amidst the desolation and isolation of a strange country, signifying the strange

landscape of the unconscious, the promise of great fortune is fading into a dimly

remembered wise old king and the Urim and Thummim, consequently, a feeling of

being forsaken by the soul of the universe. This is reminiscent of the perils of Christ

during the 40-day period of ’tempting’ and ‘tempering’ by the devil in the desert and

connote a sterile, uninhabited world deprived of God’s presence and hence also the

absence of the Self and the threat of dissolution of the insights into the Self that may

have been gained. This stage is characterised by the confrontation of the ‘inner demons’

of lack of faith and uncertainty, and the cautious integration of increasing self-awareness

and self-determination with the only remaining symbols of choice - the true treasure -

the Urim and Thummim.

The impossible circumstantial imprisonment is more a mental anguish and a reflection

of the difficulty in the development and expansion of a new frame of mind. It may also

signify the differences between the flight of the imagination where all are one and

everything is possible and the gruelling demands of bringing the hopes and dreams of

the individual to fruition. It almost appears in the narration as if time itself has forsaken

and forgotten the perhaps ludicrous quest of self-formation and the naiveté in following

one’s dreams.

Edinger (1995:305) refers to the crystal as representing the “head sphere” and explains

that the “crystal sphere”, as representing “immortal and eternal” perfection, is the

signification of a more concrete unio metalis, and consequently the emergence of the


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union of matter (body) with mind. As indicated in a previous paragraph, Von Franz

(1964:74, 221) mentions that the Self is symbolised as a stone, precious or otherwise,

including a crystal which often represents the union of extreme opposites; matter and

mind. This phase or stage of the shepherd boy’s journey may thus be reflecting the

instilling of a lasting union of the conscious and unconscious which Jung referred to as

the ‘Mysterium Coniunctionis’, the mystical union of opposites. Specifically, Jung (in

Edinger, 1995:22) said of the ‘Mysterium Coniunctionis’: The factors which come

together in the coniunctio are conceived of as opposites, either confronting one another

in enmity or attracting one another in love”. It is important to note that Dorn (cited in

Raff, 2000:124) asserted that the unio mentalis “does not make a man wise”, since this

level of union is still transitory and ungrounded, hence the vacillating emotions

experienced by the shepherd boy.

Jung (cited in Raff, 2000:125) indicates that, during this phase, experiences are

consistent with making the Self a more permanent awareness in the ego and an

establishment of the Self as a permanent content of the psyche. According to Raff

(2000:126), “the felt perception and communication of the self provides a measure of

one’s actual union with it”. In the narrative this union is signified by the boy’s eventual

resolve to follow the ‘omens’ based on his renewed awareness and interpretation

thereof.

6.4.1.5 Part two, third union: Egypt: Union of body and mind with the ‘unus mundus’

The boy met an Englishman at the caravan who was preparing to cross the Sahara desert

on the way to Egypt. The Englishman believed in omens and wanted to meet the

alchemist who lived at the Al-Fayoum oasis. “Everything in life is an omen:” said the

Englishman, now closing the journal he was reading. “There is a universal language,

understood by everybody, but already forgotten. I am in search of that universal

language, among other things. That’s why I’m here. I have to find a man who knows that

universal language”.

The boy knew what he was about to describe, though: the mysterious chain that links

one thing to another, the same chain that had caused him to become a shepherd, that

had caused his recurring dream, that had brought him to a city near Africa, to find a


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king, and to be robbed in order to meet a crystal merchant, and...The closer one gets to

realizing his destiny, the more that destiny becomes his true reason for being, thought

the boy. We are afraid of losing what we have, whether it’s our life or our possessions

and property. But this fear evaporates when we understand that our life stories and the

history of the world were written by the same hand.”

The boy befriended the Englishman who lends him his books on alchemy and other

topics. Upon giving the books back to the man, he said. “But there was one idea that

seemed to repeat itself throughout all the books: all things are the manifestation of one

thing only”. And “in one of the books he learned that the most important text in the

literature of alchemy contained only a few lines, and had been inscribed on the surface

of an emerald. “It’s the Emerald Tablet” said the Englishman, proud that he might

teach something to the boy. The book that most interested the boy told the stories of the

famous alchemists. They were men who had dedicated their entire lives to the

purification of metals in their laboratories; they believed that, if a metal were heated for

many years, it would free itself of all its individual properties, and what was left would

be the Soul of the World. This Soul of the World allowed them to understand anything

on the face of the earth, because it was the language with which all things

communicated. They called that discovery the Master Work - it was part liquid and part

solid. The boy learned that the liquid part of the Master Work was called the Elixir of

Life, and that it cured all illnesses; it also kept the alchemist from growing old. And the

solid part was called the Philosopher’s Stone.

The Englishman told the boy, “I learned that the world has a soul, and that whoever

understands that soul can also understand the language of things. I learned that many

alchemists realized their destinies, and wound up discovering the Soul of the World, the

Philosopher’s Stone, and the Elixir of Life.” “But, above all, I learned that these things

are all so simple that they could be written on the surface of an emerald.”

The caravan travelled through many war-ridden and dangerous tribal battle areas and the

boy learned to watch the signs of the camels and the desert to determine the dangers.

The camel driver, though, seemed not to be very concerned with the threat of war. “I’m

alive?” he said to the boy, as they ate a bunch of dates one night, with no fires and no

moon. “When I’m eating, that’s all I think about. If I’m on the march, I just concentrate


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on marching. If I have to fight, it will be just as good a day to die as any other.”

“Because I don’t live in either my past or my future. I’m interested only in the present. If

you can concentrate always on the present, you’ll be a happy man. You’ll see that there

is life in the desert, that there are stars in the heavens, and that tribesmen fight because

they are part of the human race. Life will be a party for you, a grand festival; because

life is the moment we’re living right now?”

The boy was quiet when they reached the oasis. “He was at home with the silence of the

desert, and he was content just to look at the trees. He still had a long way to go to

reach the pyramids, and someday this morning would just be a memory. But this was the

present moment - the party the camel driver had mentioned - and he wanted to live it as

he did the lessons of his past and his dreams of the future”.

“The times rush past, and so do the caravans, thought the alchemist, as he watched the

hundreds of people and animals arriving at the oasis. But none of that mattered to the

alchemist. He had already seen many people come and go. He knew that in the caravan

there was a man to whom he was to teach some of his secrets. The omens had told him

so. He didn’t know the man yet, but his practiced eye would recognize him when he

appeared. He hoped that it would be someone as capable as his previous apprentice. I

don’t know why these things have to be transmitted by word of mouth, he thought. It

wasn’t exactly that they were secrets; God revealed his secrets easily to all his

creatures. He had only one explanation for this fact: things have to be transmitted this

way because they were made up from the pure life, and this kind of life cannot be

captured in pictures or words. Because people become fascinated with pictures and

words, and wind up forgetting the Language of the World”.

After a meal and a rest, the boy and the Englishman went in search of the alchemist at

the well but no-one could help them. “Finally, a young woman approached who was

not dressed in black. She had a vessel on her shoulder, and her head was covered by a

veil, but her face was uncovered. The boy approached her to ask about the alchemist. At

that moment, it seemed to him that time stood still, and the Soul of the World surged

within him. When he looked into her dark eyes, and saw that her lips were poised

between a laugh and silence, he learned the most important part of the language that all

the world spoke - the language that everyone on earth was capable of understanding in


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their heart. It was love. Something older than humanity, more ancient than the desert.

Fatima”.

One day, the boy “watched the [two] hawks as they drifted on the wind. Although their

flight appeared to have no pattern, it made a certain kind of sense to the boy. It was just

that he couldn’t grasp what it meant. He followed the movement of the birds, trying to

read something into it. Maybe these desert birds could explain to him the meaning of

love without ownership. As it did so, a sudden, fleeting image came to the boy: an army,

with its swords at the ready, riding into the oasis”. He went to relay his vision to the

chieftains and warn the oasis dwellers of the impending danger and threat of an invasion

by an army. His interpretation of the omens in the sky leads him to the meeting with the

alchemist, but also the threat of death. The chieftains, after long deliberations and the

likening of him to Joseph, agreed to break with Tradition and prepare for an invasion.

However, if the invasion did not occur, he would be killed.

“He had succeeded in reaching through to the Soul of the World, and now the price for

having done so might be his life. It was a frightening bet. But he had been making risky

bets ever since the day he had sold his sheep to pursue his destiny. And, as the camel

driver had said, to die tomorrow was no worse than dying on any other day. Every day

was there to be lived or to mark one’s departure from this world. Everything depended

on one word: “Maktub.” Walking along in the silence, he had no regrets. If he died

tomorrow, it would be because God was not willing to change the future”.

“Suddenly he heard a thundering sound, and he was thrown to the ground by a wind

such as he had never known. The area was swirling in dust so intense that it hid the

moon from view. Before him was an enormous white horse, rearing over him with a

frightening scream. When the blinding dust had settled a bit, the boy trembled at what

he saw. Astride the animal was a horseman dressed completely in black, with a falcon

perched on his left shoulder. He wore a turban and his entire face, except for his eyes,

was covered with a black kerchief. He appeared to be a messenger from the desert, but

his presence was much more powerful than that of a mere messenger. The strange

horseman drew an enormous, curved sword from a scabbard mounted on his saddle.

The steel of its blade glittered in the light of the moon. “Who dares to read the meaning


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of the flight of the hawks?” he demanded, so loudly that his words seemed to echo

through the fifty thousand palm trees of AI-Fayoum.”

The boy had met the alchemist who told him to look for him if he should still be alive

after the warriors attack the oasis. After the attack, which the oasis dwellers won, the

tribal chieftain called for the boy, and presented him with fifty pieces of gold. He

repeated his story about Joseph of Egypt, and asked the boy to become the counsellor of

the oasis.

The boy went in search of the alchemist with whom he shared a meal of two dead hawks

and had some wine. The alchemist informed him that he would help him find his

treasure by pointing him in the right direction. However, “Tomorrow, sell your camel

and buy a horse. Camels are traitorous: they walk thousands of paces and never seem to

tire. Then suddenly, they kneel and die. But horses tire bit by bit. You always know how

much you can ask of them, and when it is that they are about to die?”

Before their departure to the pyramids, the alchemist said; “Show me where there is life

out in the desert. Only those who can see such signs of life are able to find treasure? The

boy found a snake and watched as his companion went to his horse and withdrew a

scimitar. With its blade, he drew a circle in the sand, and then he placed the snake within

it. The serpent relaxed immediately. “Not to worry,” said the alchemist. “He won’t

leave the circle. You found life in the desert, the omen that I needed.”

On their journey to the pyramids, they were faced with many perils in the form of

warring Arabs. One day, very close to the pyramids they were surrounded “by tribesmen

dressed in blue, with black rings surrounding their turbans. Their faces were hidden

behind blue veils, with only their eyes showing. Even from a distance, their eyes

conveyed the strength of their souls. And their eyes spoke of death”. To save their lives,

the boy would turn himself into the wind “He needs three days?’ answered the

alchemist. “He is going to transform himself into the wind, just to demonstrate his

powers. If he can’t do so, we humbly offer you our lives, for the honor of your tribe?”

The boy was shaking with fear, but the alchemist helped him out of the tent.


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After a conversation with the desert, wind and sand, which are all part of the soul of the

world, the boy appeared to have turned himself into the wind and was told by the sun to

speak to the hand that wrote it all.

A current of love rushed from his heart, and the boy began to pray. It was a prayer that

he had never said before, because it was a prayer without words or pleas. His prayer

didn’t give thanks for his sheep having found new pastures; it didn’t ask that the boy be

able to sell more crystal; and it didn’t beseech that the woman he had met continue to

await his return. In the silence, the boy understood that the desert, the wind, and the sun

were also trying to understand the signs written by the hand, and were seeking to follow

their paths, and to understand what had been written on a single emerald. He saw that

omens were scattered throughout the earth and in space, and that there was no reason

or significance attached to their appearance; he could see that not the deserts, nor the

winds, nor the sun, nor people knew why they had been created. But that the hand had a

reason for all of this, and that only the hand could perform miracles, or transform the

sea into a desert. . . or a man into the wind. Because only the hand understood that it

was a larger design that had moved the universe to the point at which six days of

creation had evolved into a Master Work. The boy reached through to the Soul of the

World, and saw that it was a part of the Soul of God. And he saw that the Soul of God

was his own soul. And that he, a boy, could perform miracles.

At the sight of the pyramids, the boy fell down crying and praying. The boy looked at

the sands around him, and saw that, where his tears had fallen, a scarab beetle was

scuttling through the sand. During his time in the desert, he had learned that, in Egypt,

the scarab beetles are a symbol of God. Thinking that it was an omen, the boy started

digging continuously until he was overpowered and beaten by Arab soldiers who also

stole the gold the alchemist gave him. The boy fell to the sand, nearly unconscious. The

leader shook him and said, “We’re leaving?” But before they left, he came back to the

boy and said, “You’re not going to die. You’ll live, and you’ll learn that a man shouldn’t

be so stupid. Two years ago, right here on this spot, I had a recurrent dream, too. I

dreamed that I should travel to the fields of Spain and look for a ruined church where

shepherds and their sheep slept. In my dream, there was a sycamore growing out of the

ruins of the sacristy, and I was told that, if I dug at the roots of the sycamore, I would

find a hidden treasure. But I’m not so stupid as to cross an entire desert just because of


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a recurrent dream.” And they disappeared. The boy stood up shakily, and looked once

more at the Pyramids. They seemed to laugh at him, and he laughed back, his heart

bursting with joy. Because now he knew where his treasure was.

i The desert and the sand

Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:285) maintain that there are two essential

symbolic associations with ‘the desert’; “the primordial undifferentiated state; or a

superficially sterile crust under which ‘Reality’ must be sought”. Additionally,

‘reality’ or also referred to as ‘Essence’, is evocative of both the search for the

Promised Land by the Children of Israel across the Sinai Desert and the Quest of

the Holy Grail.

In the Christian Bible, the symbol of the desert frequently connotes a sterile,

uninhabited world deprived of God’s presence. It has been regarded as the abode of

unclean spirits (Matthew 12:43; Luke 8:29), as the place of punishment for the

Children of Israel (Deuteronomy 29:5), and where Jesus was tempted (Mark

1:12ff) (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:285). It may thus be regarded as a place

where the individual is to face his or her internal ‘devils’ and be sustained and

redeemed through the grace of God.

Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:286) also allude to the desert as signifying a place

of revelation due to its reference in the Christian Bible by John the Baptist as the

place from which the imminent coming of the long-awaited Messiah is being

awaited.

ii A pair of hawks

The number two is, according to Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:1050), “the

symbol of confrontation, conflict and recoil and denotes either balance achieved,

or hidden threat”. It moreover exemplifies ambivalence since it is viewed as a

‘separator’, which divides, for example, creator and creature, black and white, male

and female, and matter and spirit. This quality of the number two has also been

attributed to ‘the Mother’ or the female principle symbolising either “creative

evolution” or “fatal involution”. Consequently, the number two stands for dualism

(Chetwynd, 1993b:286), and forms the basis of “all dialectic, endeavour, struggle,


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movement and progress” (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:1050). This principle is

reflected in all African symbolism and rests upon a cosmic rule of inherent

fundamental dualism such as good and evil, life and death, male and female, as

well as a positive and a negative aspect (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:1050).

Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:1050) furthermore assert that in any symbol the

twofold image, whether of two eagles or two stones, may either enhance the

meaning of the associated symbol or demonstrate an inner weakening division.

The hawk is associated with both the ‘heavenly’ and the ‘earthly’ and thus signifies

something beyond the mortal and consequently has been the embodiment of the

symbolic spiritual ascent since the Stone Age, given that visual designs in various

cultural portrayals of a bird signify spiritual activities (Frutiger, 1989:246). In

ancient Egyptian mythology, the hawk was also associated with the rising sun

(Goodenough, 1997:66).

iii Elixir of Life

Evidently, gold was the image for the end result of the work of most alchemists.

While most alchemists were intent on the creation of actual gold, some had a

spiritual “gold” in mind and others, as physicians, were seeking a healing elixir or

a way to prolong life long past its normal span, hence the ‘Elixir of Life’ (Raff,

2000:xx). Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:349) indicate that the term ‘elixir’

symbolises the prolongation of a transmuted state of consciousness. The Elixir of

Life was also referred to as the ‘vegetable stone’, and known as the ‘Universal

Medicine’ or panacea, the quest for which, according to Wasserman (1993:92),

was the precursor for modern pharmacopoeia.

Haeffner (1991:189) indicates that ‘spiritus’ or essence was also related to the

elixir of life, and that the term quintessence or ‘quinte essence’ was used in

alchemy for the ‘extraction’ of the quintessence or ‘spirit’ essence from a body.

iv The philosopher’s stone

The most important aspect in the creation of gold or a healing potion, was first of

all the creation of the philosopher’s stone, since it alone had the power of effecting

transmutations, healing and allowing the alchemist access to the ‘Divine


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mysteries’. Thus, the creation of the stone was the principle goal of most

alchemical endeavours (Raff, 2000:xx). The creation of the stone involved several

main processes including finding the right substance, or the elusive prima materia

from which to generate it.

The aim of the alchemical processes was to destroy the original form of the

substance and to reduce it to a preformed state, the prima materia, the matter

before it was formed, which the alchemists referred to ‘chaos,’ amongst others.

The alchemical dramatic pattern consequently consisted of the death of the original

substance, which resulted in its reduction to a primal state, often equated with

mercury. The following step was the separation of the prima materia into its

component parts, sulphur and mercury since mercury had sulphur inside it. These

component parts were then reunited and a new substance - the philosopher’s stone

- was created (Raff (2000:xx). The practice of alchemy thus consisted of separation

and reunification or ‘solve et coagule’ - (separate and integrate) - a procedure that

was repeated many times. The philosopher’s stone and the process involved in

creating it, as have been indicated in previous paragraphs, are associated with the

creation of the Self through the process of individuation and the transcendent

function, hence ‘solve et coagule’ - separate and integrate.

Raff (2000:xxv) indicates that the comparison of the Self with the stone united

Jung’s model with the alchemical one and that he was able to explore the spiritual

ideas of the alchemist as they related to his own religious perspective. “The

admixture of religious imagery and alchemical process is not atypical of alchemy

in Western Europe. There are many comparisons of the philosopher’s stone to

Christ, and other references to the Book of Genesis, as well as to the wisdom

literature of the Bible” (Raff, 2000:xxv). Von Franz (1964:225) also indicates that,

according to Christian ecclesiastical symbolism, Christ is “the stone that the

builders rejected” which became “the head of the corner” (Luke 20:17).

Jung’s likening of the Self to the philosopher’s stone, according to Raff

(2000:xxv), was influenced by a number of factors including the following:


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Jung conceived of the Self as the union of opposites and the centre of the

psyche. Similarly, the stone is considered as the union of opposites, and often

portrayed as a centre;

Both the Self and the stone may be personified as an inner figure;

The Self and the stone are viewed as the repository of wisdom;

The Self is the goal of all psychic life and the end state of the individuation

process, while the stone was the goal of all alchemical endeavours and the end

product of the alchemical processes; and

Jung thought that the Self created symbols in order to make its attributes

known and the stone was one such image. Jung always operated under the

assumption that what was said of the stone was true of the Self, for in the stone

the Self had found a way to express itself symbolically.

Several alchemists perceived that the much-sought-after philosophers’ stone was a

symbol of something that can be found only within the psyche of humankind.

Thus, the alchemical stone (the lapis) symbolises something that can never be lost

or dissolved, something eternal that some alchemists compared to the mystical

experience of God within one’s own soul. However, only prolonged suffering may

burn away all the superfluous psychic elements concealing the stone (Chevalier &


v The alchemist and his falcon

According to Cooper (1995a:96), the falcon, eagle and hawk share similar solar

attributes of ascension, inspiration, freedom and victory. Rohl (1998:307) indicates

that the falcon and hawk motifs or symbols are some of the earliest pre-dynastic

Egyptian depictions of Horus. Additionally, first dynasty pharaohs or kings all had

Horus names, referred to as serekh names (Rohl, 1998:324). Horus, the son of Isis

and Osiris, was known as the falcon and sky god of ancient Egypt and symbolised

the principle of light. It was also, as the embodiment of Horus, amongst others, the

god of ethereal space (Brier, 1980:144; Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:370). The

falcon was also the attribute of the god Ra, symbol of the rising sun, depicted as

the winged sun-disk harakhty, the hieroglyohic term for Horus of the (Eastern)

horizon (Rohl, 1998:333; Cooper, 1995a:96). The temple of Horus is situated in

Efu and the temple of his consort, the goddess Hathor, is in Dendera. Rohl


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(1998:334) relays that one of the most important Egyptian festivals was the annual

enactment of the sacred marriage between Horus and Hathor, whose name means

‘house of Horus’. During the festival, the statue of Hathor was journeyed from

Dendera to Edfu to perform the sacred marriage act.

Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:370) also assert that the falcon, representing the

solar, celestial, male, and bright, is an accessional symbol on the material,

intellectual and moral levels since it signifies superiority and conquest, either

acquired or in process of attainment. Henderson (1964:147) indicates that the bird

is the most fitting symbol of transcendence since it represents an individual who is

capable of obtaining knowledge of distant events or facts. This interpretation

possibly relates to the keen sight and ability of the hawk or falcon to fly straight

into the glare of the sun without flinching (Cooper, 1995a:123).

Archaic depictions of the bird associated with spiritual aspects go as far back as the

Palaeolithic period of prehistory and Campbell (cited in Henderson, 1964:148) has

pointed out that the presence of a shaman wearing a bird mask was portrayed in

cave paintings discovered in France.

vi Wine

Owing to the similarity in colour, red wine is generally associated with blood, and

consequently wine is viewed as the beverage of life or of immortality and

concurrently that of sacrifice, knowledge and initiation (Chevalier & Gheerbrant,

1996:1113). Chetwynd (1993a:223) explains that in Greek mythology wine was

associated with divine powers and said to arouse the “serpent-power within”. The

water that is transformed into wine is called ambrosia, the wine of the Christian

Mass, and was considered as a means of contact with the Divine. The Greek god

Bacchus-Dionysos was considered as having the power to turn water into wine

(Chetwynd, 1993a:1, 57, 223). In a biblical sense, wine signifies spiritual

nourishment and immortality, but also the union of the follower and faithful with

the body of Christ (Chetwynd, 1999:329).


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vii The camel

The major symbolic association of the camel is that it enables its rider to cross the

desert and reach the hidden centre of the divine essence. As a companion in the

desert, the camel is the vehicle which moves from oasis to oasis taking its rider

from desolation to the nourishment of the oasis (Chevalier & Gheerbrant,

1996:149). Cooper (1995a:38) states that the camel is the personification of Africa

and symbolises obedience, stamina, royalty, temperance and subservience in both

Arabic and Christian cultural depictions.

Reportedly, the mosque at Ka’ba was built on the spot where the Prophet

Mohammed’s favourite camel Al Kaswa knelt after the flight from Mecca, and

thus in Islam, the camel is associated with ‘Paradise’ (Cooper, 1995a:39).

viii The majestic white horse

Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:516) indicate “the multitude of symbolic roles

which the horse plays derives from the complexity of meaning attaching to it as a

so-called ‘lunar figure’”, but also as an animal associated with the sky. Cooper

(1995a:131) too indicates that the symbolism of the horse is both solar and lunar.

The white, celestial horse stands for the control, mastery and sublimation of the

instincts and may also represent the “non-human psyche”, and personify “the

noblest conquest of mankind”. Additionally, the fate of rider and horse is viewed to

be inextricably bound up since, “carrying men and women on its back, it is their

vehicle, their vessel, and its fate is in theirs”. Consequently, “a special dialectic

comes into existence between them, signifying both the fountain of peace or of

confrontation on both the psychic and the mental planes” (Chevalier & Gheerbrant,

1996:517). Cooper (1995a:131) indicates that the white horse is particularly sacred

in Persia, Greece, Rome and Scandinavia, whereas in Chinese, Japanese and Indian

religious symbolism, the white horse was seen as avatars or the successive

incarnations of deities and saints.


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Additionally, Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:524) indicate that in Buddhist,

Hindu and Greek texts, horses are the principal “symbols of the senses harnessed to

the chariot of the spirit and controlled by the Self who is the charioteer”.

Specifically, the white horse is the symbol of “majesty and is generally ridden by

him whom the Book of Revelation (19:11) calls Faithful and True, that is, by

Christ”. They furthermore assert that the “whole process of ascension culminates

in the figure of the majestic white horse, the steed of heroes, saints and spiritual

victors. All great Messianic figures ride such horses”.

Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:525) maintain that the symbol of the horse is

“truly universal” since it includes symbolism from both poles of the cosmos and

incorporate all the basic elements of the celestial world, being air, fire and water,

and that “it would seem as if the horse were one of those basic archetypes firmly

embedded in folk-memory”.

ix The snake or serpent

Few creatures are regarded with more awe, reverence and fear than the snake or

serpent, according to Cooper (1995a:212). Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:844)

state that it symbolises the very beginning of a long evolutionary struggle and may

be viewed both as complementary and contrasting to humankind. It is also viewed

as both the personification of ‘the original sin’ and as “the well-springs of life”,

thus associated with the soul and the libido or kundalinī, in the Indian tradition.

The kundalinī is perceived as a coiled serpent found in a sleep-state at the base of

the human spinal column. When the serpent awakes, it rises up through the spinal

column, and consequently, ascent through the successive chakras (or spiritual

centres) takes place. “This is the rising tide of the libido, the fresh manifestation of

life” (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:845).

The original entopic image of the serpent is the line, often depicted in ancient cave

drawings, which has neither beginning nor end and, once they come alive, may

depict various aspects of both the animate and inanimate, and male and female

aspects of reality. Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:844) assert that the ‘she-

serpent’ represents the invisible, secretive and equivocal serpent principle of the

unconscious, “linked to the freezing, clammy subterranean darkness of the


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beginning of things” – the primordial manifestation. Frutiger (1989:248) and

Cooper (1995a:212) refer to the symbol of the serpent as the notion of life itself,

and Bachelard (cited in Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:845) indicates that it is “one

of the most important archetypes of the human soul”, whereas Frutiger (1989:248)

asserts that it can be viewed as a symbolic archetype, undeniably present in the

human unconscious.

Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:846) assert that from the macrocosmic viewpoint,

the kundalinī is the equivalent is the serpent ‘Ananta’, associated with the Indian

gods of Vishnu and Shiva, which wraps its coils round the base of the World Axis.

In turn, ‘Ananta’ is associated with and symbolises cyclical expansion and

contraction. The serpent is universally associated with a terrestrial aspect,

symbolising “the strength and aggression of the manifestation of the great god of

darkness who, throughout the world, is a serpent” (Chevalier & Gheerbrant,

1996:846).

In addition to ‘Ananta’, symbolising cyclical movement or development,

Bachelard (cited in Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:845) maintains that the symbol

of the uroboros (the serpent biting its own tail) is also the symbol of cyclical

manifestation and return and continuous transformation of death into life.

Bachelard (cited in Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:846) asserts that the uroboros

signifies both the creation of time and life, “creating both within itself, and is often

depicted in the shape of a twisted chain”. Frutiger (1989:249) indicates that the

uroboros is a symbol of eternal recurrence associated with re-birth and the

representation of the secret of eternity.

As a symbol of an “Old God of Nature dethroned by the spirit, the uroboros

remained a powerful cosmographic and geographic deity”, and according to

Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:846), it is one of the earliest representations of the

world since in the earliest African ‘imago mundi’, the Benin Disc depicts the

uroboros as the synthesis of opposites and the primeval oceans on which it floats.

Krappe (cited in Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:849) indicate that various cultures,

including African cultures, perceive a close relationship between the serpent and


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the weather which reflects the application of the myth of “the Great Primeval

Serpent, an expression of formless primal matter”. For example, there is widely

held belief that rainbows are serpents drinking from the sea. Moreover, “It is the

beginning and the end of every manifestation and this explains its prime

eschatological significance through which we return to the highly complex

development of the serpent symbol in European civilization” (Krappe cited in

Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:849). The notion of serpents drinking from the sky

may also relate to the Egyptian myth of the cosmic serpent from which time and

form emerge (Rundle Clarke, 1978:244).

In ancient Egypt, Atum, the oldest creator-god in Egypt, and father of the nine

deities (neteru) of Heliopolis, is depicted in the Egyptian Book of the Dead as the

serpent emerging from the primeval waters (Rohl, 1998:396; Chevalier &

Gheerbrant, 1996:849; Rundle Clarke, 1978:241). Additionally, Chevalier and

Gheerbrant (1996:849) assert that the notion of an alchemical regeneration under

the predominant influence of the serpent, ‘Apophis’, is described in the Egyptian

Book of the Dead. Apophis, as ancient serpent, is also the arch-enemy of the sun-

god Ra (Jung, 1969:230; Budge, 1960:151).

Meeks and Meeks (1999:71) explain that in Egyptian scripts the creator-god was

depicted as perpetually recreating the universe in his daily journey across the sky.

The totality of creation was represented as his vital force or ka, but other gods also

possessed variable ka, depending on their creative force and power. The ka could

be grouped together and the cohesion of the totality of all the energies of the

universe was maintained by the snake, Neheb-kau or “he who keeps the energies

together”, one of the primeval beings who resided in the primordial ocean, Nun.

Additionally, he was considered as the true form of the “uncreated creator-god in

whom both chaos and the forces of life were intimately intertwined” (Meeks &

Meeks, 1999:19; West, 1993:59). In addition to keeping all the energies together,

Neheb-kau also represents the convergence of positive and negative since it was

believed that he ultimately re-incorporated Apophis into the ‘One’. This divergent

representation of the serpent as the embodiment of the creation and the enemy,

points to what West (1993:58) refers to as the duality of the Egyptian symbolism of

the serpent. “The serpent, seemingly a unity, is dual in expression”.


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Additionally, in the Egyptian Book of the Dead (Faulkner, 1994:166), the snake is

associated with the soul undergoing a temporary transformation due to its believed

prolonged life and cyclical rebirth. Faulkner (1994:166) also observes that the

‘transformation spells’ recited and the transformation forms assumed by the

deceased, often depicted in the decorations of the Egyptian amulets, were

associated with rebirth and regeneration.

Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:858), and (Cooper, 1995a:219), maintain that

while the serpent arouses feelings of repulsion in the modern Westerner, in Africa

and parts of America, where it is regarded as sacred and immortal, it has been

preserved as a complete archetype, and hence acknowledging its positive

properties. Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:858) comment that, “to deny primeval

life and the serpent which embodies it, is to deny all the nocturnal properties of

which it partakes and which are the spirit’s clay”.

The snake or serpent is viewed in most parts of Africa as carrying messages of the

ancestors (Knappert, 1995:221). Additionally, the Bushmen and Khoi San,

according to Lewis-Williams and Dowson (2000:130), associated the snake with

shamanism and trance states, since a shaman was believed to manifest in the form

of a snake. A clear association between going underwater, shamans and snakes

exits in the myth which portrays that if a person wants to become a shaman, he/she

should plunge into a pool of water and produce a python. The finding of a snake or

serpent would then indicate that the person had the potential of becoming a

shaman. The symbolism is further enhanced by various rock paintings depicting a

snake with blood flowing from the nose, in certain instances symbolised as an

entopic zigzag buck-headed snake, a sign that the snake is a shaman in trance

(Lewis-Williams & Dowson, 2000:63, 131). Lewis-Williams (2003:68) also

indicates that in certain rock paintings the San refers to ‘rain-animals’ of which a

‘rain-snake’ is one.

Rooted in the previous paragraphs, it seems fitting that the snake or serpent is

described by Henderson (1978:153) as representing the universal quality of the

animal as a symbol of transcendence since it brings a symbolic chthonic


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(underworld) message from the collective unconscious. Consequently, the snake,

as a transcendent symbol of the depth, plays an intermediary role between the

unconscious and unconscious.

x The wind

Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:1110) indicate that the wind “is synonymous with

breath and consequently with the Spirit, a heaven-sent spiritual influx”. Both the

Book of Psalms and the Koran refer to the wind as angels and as God’s

messengers. Additionally, ‘The Spirit of God’, “moving across the face of the

primordial waters is called Ruah, ‘Wind’”, and in Hindu symbolism, the wind,

personified as the god (Vayu) is considered as the cosmic breath and the Word.

Additionally, in Biblical tradition, the wind is considered as God’s breath which

brought order to the primordial world and heralded God’s coming. The wind is also

a symbol of God’s power which brings life, punishes and teaches. The winds “were

signs and carried messages like the angels. They were manifestations of a godhead

which wished to communicate its feelings, were they of the gentlest kindness or of

the most stormy wrath” (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:858, 1111).

In Hindu myth, the winds are associated with the god of the moon and dance,

Shiva, which in turn represents the rhythmic dance of death and re-birth. It was

also associated with the moon since it is viewed as representing the air and the

wind as a herald of the heavens (Chetwynd, 1993a:40, 133).

Owusu (2000:39, 53, 99, 105) indicates that the lion Egyptian goddess, ‘Sekhmet’,

in her negative aspect used the hot desert wind as her weapon against the arch-

enemies of Ra and Horus, ‘Set’ and the ‘Apophis’ snake. Additionally, according to

Egyptian mythology, both the supreme deity ‘Amun’, called the “breath of the

wind and the sum of all existence” and the god of air ‘Shu’, because of his position

between the sky and the earth, were associated with the wind.

xi The hand

The hand, according to Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:466), signifies action and

is indicative of royalty, protection, power and dominion. In certain Taoist writings,


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such as The Secret of the Golden Flower, the Far Eastern expressions such as

‘setting one’s hand to’ or ‘taking one’s hand from’ impart an alchemical meaning

of ‘coagulation’ or of ‘dissolution’ to these words. These meanings correspond to

the effort of spiritual deliberation and to the free development of inward

experience in a microcosm released from the restraints of space and time. The

etymological root of the word ‘manifestation’ derives from the Latin word

‘manus’, meaning ‘hand’ and, consequently, “What is manifest can be held in or

grasped by the hand” (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:466).

Additionally, the hand is the symbol of power, protection and supremacy in both

the Old Testament and Christian traditions and signifies the manifestation of the

Spirit of God. The significance of the symbol of the hand of God indicates the

wholeness of his power and instrumentality, hence “the hand of God creates and

protects, but if God’s will is thwarted, it also destroys” (Chevalier & Gheerbrant,

1996:467).

xii Egypt

In Christian tradition, Egypt symbolised the land of bondage, temptations to

idolatry, threats of invasion and of flight and escape from a life of servitude to

foreign power and the journey towards a higher and a freer existence. However,

based on the convergence of the desert and the fertility of the area surrounding the

Nile, Egypt may also be symbolised as the “marriage of opposites – the

barrenness of the desert and the fruitfulness of the valley” (Chevalier &

Gheerbrant, 1996:341, 342).

Edinger (1987:42) asserts that for the Gnostics, Egypt represented “‘the body’, the

darkest region of sin and fleshly experience”, and in an incarnation myth, the son

of the heavenly father is depicted as rescuing a pearl from the clutches of a

serpent, by descending into Egypt. For Edinger (1987:44), the ‘pearl of great

price’ which is to be found in Egypt, signifies that the spirit needs a total

encounter with matter and that the manifestation of the Self (the pearl) requires an

Egyptian, earthbound ego. The encounter in Egypt is typically depicted as a

catastrophic and dangerous event, since the birth of the Self is an archetypal

dynamism fraught with danger and violence (Edinger, 1987:40).


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Historically, Egypt was revered and deemed as a sacred land in which its priests

and scribes practised a “wonderful and pristine science” and reportedly, most

‘fathers’ of modern science, maths and philosophy were intrigued by this distant

land. For example, Greek philosophers such as Solon, Pythagoras and Plato

visited Egypt to learn the wisdom of the Egyptians. Plato reportedly referred to

Egyptians as ‘a race of philosophers’ (Hancock & Bauval, 2004:155).

xiii The pyramids

The construction of the pyramids, according to West (1993:11), has “always

provoked the keenest and wildest theories”. In contrast to the modern

Egyptologist interpretation of them being tombs, ancient sources reported that the

pyramids, particularly the Great Pyramid of Cheops, embodied synthesis and a

wealth of data regarding astronomy, mathematics, and geography (West,

1993:11). According to Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:776), Egyptian creation

myths indicate that the pyramids were constructed in accordance with religious

beliefs and magical practices and may also represent the mound which emerged

from the primeval waters when the earth came into being. An interesting collusion

to the assertion that the pyramid represents synthesis, is Rosen et al’s (1991)

research findings and categorisation of the image of a pyramid or triangle

according to the ‘Archetypal Symbol Inventory’ (ASI) as associated with

‘synthesis’.

Sertillanges, (cited in Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:777) asserts that the inverted

pyramid is the image of spiritual development. At both individual and group

levels, “the pyramid conveys the twofold meaning of integration and

convergence”. As the plainest and most perfect image of synthesis, it may be

compared with a tree and Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:777) explain that the

concept of “‘living growth’ best expresses the all-embracing symbolism of the

pyramid since it was intended to ensure the apotheosis of the Pharaoh in an

assimilation of the dead with the Sun-god, the uppermost and eternal limit of

growth”.


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xiv The scarab beetle and tears

In ancient Egyptian symbolism, the scarab (kepri or Khepera, god of creation and

immortality) was associated with resurrection and was viewed as an incarnation

of the new born sun coming into being. (Hagen & Hagen, 1999:21; Meeks &

Meeks, 1999: 238; Rohl, 1998:348). Since the scarab or dung beetle’s rolling of a

dung-ball is viewed as representative of the path of the sun, it is symbolic of self-

creative power not only in ancient Egypt, but also in African Congo (Cooper,

1995a:209). West (1993:85) also indicates that the scarab was a transforming

symbol in Egypt due to its association with the daily journey of the sun, and

Bruce-Mitford (1996:56) asserts that it is associated with life emerging from earth

because of the scarab’s eggs hatching from dung-balls. Watterson (1999:51)

explains that the hieroglyphic ‘kheprer’, from which kepri was derived, means ‘to

become’ and ‘to come into existence’, and hence the scarab was the symbol of

“perpetual renewal”.

Meeks and Meeks (1999:70) explain that according to ancient Egyptian myth, the

bodily secretions of gods, when it touched the ground, was considered to be

productive and an extension of the creator-god’s initial creative act. “Blood,

sweat, tears and spit never went to waste”. Additionally, a well-know Egyptian

creation myth has it that human beings (romay or romech) were created from the

creator’s tears or tears flowing from the eye of Ra (rimay, remeyet or remtu)

(Rundle Clark, 1978:73, 95).

xv Gold and the sun

Gold is traditionally regarded as the most precious of all metals; hence, the perfect

metal associated in various cultures with the royal, divine, enlightened and

absolute perfection. In some cultures, such as the ancient Egyptian, it is seen as

representing the “flesh of the gods” (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:439).

Additionally, the ancient Egyptians viewed gold as the metal of the gods,

especially the sun-god Ra, which was referred to as “gold mountain which

illuminates the earth”. Consequently, since the metal itself was considered as


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conferring good qualities, the pharaohs’ funerary masks and tombs, referred to as

‘houses of gold,’ were decorated with gold (Owusu, 2000:153).

Moreover, the god of eternity ‘Heh’ or “endlessness” which is also associated

with the air god ‘Shu’, normally is depicted as kneeling on the hieroglyphic for

gold, signifying a multitude or ‘millions’ and hence indicates “countless years of

happiness for the present reigning king or pharaoh” (Owusu, 2000:73).

Chinese and Indians associated gold with light, and The Brahmans, Chinese and

Indians view gold as representing light and immortality, and consequently, in both

China and in India the medicine of immortality was prepared with gold as its

base. However, it was through knowledge, symbolised by gold, rather than by

medicine, its physical symbol, that earthly immortality was to be attained.

Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:440) assert that in spiritual alchemy,

transmutation was viewed as a form of redemption, and that changing lead into

gold would be similar to “transforming man into God through God”. Jung

(1960:243) indicates that alchemical writers asserted that ‘philosophical gold’,

relating to psychic contents and states, was the ultimate goal of alchemy. He

(Jung, 1960:343-344) indicates that in various alchemical writings, God, gold, the

sun and humankind are described as intimately related to the spirit of the earth.

“For example, “Little by little the sun has imprinted its image on the earth, and

that image is the gold. The sun is the image of God, the heart is the sun’s image in

man…and God in known in the gold…the anima aurea”.

Gold is also, according to Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:440), viewed as an

ambivalent metal and consequently signifies an ambivalent treasure, representing

primeval dualism re-echoed and explained in various myths. For example, in

West Africa, gold is a royal metal which symbolises the ‘Rainbow Serpent’ or the

uroboros which symbolises continuity and represents the spiral and primordial

movement of creation. Additionally, the uroboros is signified as the Lord of Gold,

whereas gold and the golden spiral are the symbols of material riches. “Here is

the recurrence in the notions of African peoples of the hidden and alchemical


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meaning of gold as conceived in traditional European and Asian thought”


As have been explained in a previous paragraph, the sun is the symbol of the

positive conscious male element and represent, in conjunction with the moon, the

opposition and conflict of the conscious (male) and the unconscious (female) with

their ‘mysterious conjunction’ or union facilitated by a mediator, the Self.

Additionally, according to Edinger (1995:93), Jung viewed the sun or ‘Sol’ as a

principle symbol of consciousness and as a double representation of the ego and

the Self. The reason for the twofold representation is that the ego acts as agent for

the development of the Self and is hence necessarily a central reference point of

consciousness. Consequently, the Self signifies the centre of transcendence,

whereas the ego signifies the centre of consciousness.

Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:440) point out that traditionally the primordial

age was considered as the Golden Age and that the ages of silver, bronze and iron

which followed it mark the descending stages in the cycle of development.

6.4.1.6 Interpretation of part two, third union: Egypt: Union of body and mind with the

“unus mundus”

Two essential symbolic accounts, namely the meeting with the adventurous Englishman

and the Urim and Thummim, signify the convergence of three pertinent aspects of the

third union. Firstly, they signify a continuation of the union between mind and body;

secondly, they point to the sealing of the boy’s destiny to meet the ‘Alchemist’, and

thirdly, they represent the genesis of the meeting and conjunction of body and mind with

the unus mundus.

The continuation of the quest for the Self, the journey, and the potential union of the

body and the mind with the unus mundus are represented by the desert which signifies

the unconscious, undifferentiated and primordial state of existence, the collective

unconscious. Besides a continuous confrontation with contents of the unconscious, the

desert holds the ‘revelation’ of the meetings with the ‘Other’ or Fatima, the ‘Universal

Lady’ and ‘Eternal Female’, the promise of ‘Paradise’ and ‘the Alchemist’. The


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alchemist signifies the mediating, latent and quintessential Self, who is the only one able

to create the unified and ultimate Philosopher’s Stone, which in turn is essential for

effectuating the manifest Self – the hidden treasure, symbolised by the finding of the

gold.

The desert furthermore represents the testing ground for new-found adroitness in the

acumen and growing awareness of ‘reading the omens’, contrasted with an unrelenting

duality embodied by the boy’s sighting of the two fighting hawks. The entry into Egypt

is typically depicted as a catastrophic and dangerous journey, since the birth of the Self

is an archetypal dynamism fraught with danger and violence (Edinger, 1987:40). This

critical incident serves as a triadic dais to begin the fatal battle between death and rebirth

or the acquisition of the right of passage to continue the quest, and the predestined

transformational meeting with the alchemist. The transformation is signified by the

falcon perched on the shoulder of the alchemist since the falcon as the embodiment of

Horus, the Egyptian falcon-god, is one of the archetypal symbols of transformation.

The association with the alchemist as mediator between consciousness and

unconsciousness brings wisdom, knowledge and discernment signified by the drinking

of the wine as symbol of sacred knowledge and the sword, signifying the Logos, good

judgment and reason. The eating of the two hawks and the alchemist’s instruction to the

boy to use a horse for the rest of the journey signify that the tension between opposites

are slackening and that a new union is immanent since the horse is an archetypal symbol

of conquering the battle and overcoming overwhelming ‘animal instincts’, the ego. The

symbol of the harnessed horse signifies dauntless control of the ego in the process of

transformation as opposed to the subservience of the camel, the obedient beast of burden

and symbol of bondage. The birth of the manifest Self is further supported by the

archetypal symbol of the snake, signifying the vital force of new life and the unification

of opposites into the ‘One’. However, the new Self is still lost in the formless matter and

cyclical expansion or chaos of the unconscious symbolised by the snake as primordial

image in an undifferentiated state signified by the desert. The circling of the snake with

the sword of the alchemist signifies a rudimentary containment of the developing Self.

The wind as the symbol of the voice and herald of God and the boy’s attempt to ‘turn

into the wind’ signify the third union of the body and mind with the unus mundus. The


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hand represents the creative acts of God and the fact that all events are predestined,

supported with the frequent reference to the term ‘maktub’ – ‘it is written’, which is an

allusion to destiny. In the narrative, the questions of destiny and choice are frequently

contrasted with the reference to the unity of all things which is suggestive of choice

within the confines of God’s will. This is evocative of the constructs pivotal to the

notion of deterministic chaos such as self-regulation, universality, self-similarity and

symmetry expressed in a previous chapter which relate to the idea of a noumenal world

in which all times and places are one.

Additionally, both the central notion of ‘omens’ and the ‘soul of the world and

universe’, frequently referred to in the text, relate to the construct of ‘synchronicity’ as

postulated by Jung. Von Franz (1998:248) states that Jung’s anticipation of the

archetypus mundus, unus mundus or the primordial form or model of creation, described

a combination and connection of inner and outer events as a relatively simultaneity of

the same meaning for the individual who experiences it. According to Jung (cited in

Edinger, 1972:293), predetermined order, meaning and consciousness are built into the

universe which support the theory of synchronicity. He posits that the structure of reality

includes a principle of acausal connection which manifests itself noticeably in the form

of meaningful coincidences. In the case of a journey of transcendence, these meaningful

events are embodied in symbols corresponding to the various stages of development.

The arrival in Egypt concurrently signifies the mysterious marriage of opposites and

heralds the birth of the unified, concretised Self. The scarab beetle, the ancient Egyptian

symbol of transformation and regeneration, juxtaposed with tears as symbols of the

creation of humankind by the tears of Ra, Egyptian sun-god, signify the penultimate

representation of the creation of the unified Self, the gold as the lapis - the Philosopher’s

Stone. The attack on the boy as he is digging for the gold by the soldiers and his

subsequent lapsing into unconsciousness signify the ‘death’ of the ego and the ‘birth’ of

the Self. It consequently symbolises a synthesis significant for the creation of a new

centre of self-formation. The signification of a synthesis is further supported by the

symbol of the pyramid, the archetypal symbol of the ‘mount of creation’, ascension and

living growth, hence the creation of a transcendent Self.


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The return to the sycamore tree growing on the spot where the sacristy used to be within

the abandoned church is aptly described by Sharp (1998:53) as typical of the process of

individuation representing “a kind of circular odyssey, a spiral journey, where the aim

is to get back where you started, but knowing where you’ve been and what for”. The

allusion to Fatima’s calling carried in the voice of the wind further enhances the

unification of opposites, the conscious and unconscious, since the union of opposites is

often signified by the ‘syzygy’ or that which Jung (1969:21) refers to as “a divine pair”,

the ideal union of anima and animus, often described as a marriage.

The multiple symbols of the Self, namely, the tree, church, wise old man, the king, the

alchemist, the philosopher’s stone and ultimately the gold, indicate that the Self is both

the origin and goal of individuation and transcendence, striving to establish harmony and

equilibrium. In this sense the wise old king and alchemist as the Self, serve as motivators

(origins) of the young shepherd pilgrim in search of the unified Self as represented by

the stone and the gold (goal). The disparate display of multiple symbolic representations

of the Self in the narrative is typical of the process of individuation – the separation of

the psyche into dissimilar aspects comparable to the alchemical formula ‘solve et

coagula’ – dissolve and coagulate. The coagulation is apparent in the formation of the

stone and the unearthing of the ‘hidden treasure’ – gold as the metal of the gods and the

transcendent Self.

On a grand macroscopic scale, the narrative symbolises a unification of three major

religious dogmas, that of the Jewish, Muslim and Christian which historically was

achieved during the 16th century in Toledo, a Spanish town where the followers of these

diverse religious co-existed harmoniously. The allusion to this in the narrative is

achieved through the reference to the name and myth of Santiago Matamoros, a Catholic

saint, the reference to the pilgrimage to Mecca and the reference to the name ‘Fatima’

the daughter of Prophet Mohammed, and the reference to Melchizedek, king of Salem

(now known as Jerusalem). The implied union of Santiago and Fatima also symbolically

signifies the union of two historically feuding and opposing nations since Santiago

Matamoros was known as the ‘Moor Slayer’.

The union of the All into the One, the unus mundus, is alluded to in the narrative

through the phrases ‘the universal language’, ‘the hand that writes it all’, and the


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reference to the fact that all pray to their own God, yet they all pray, which support the

notion of an interdependence between all creation. All creation shares the same

fountainhead – God, and all humanity shares the same legacy – the collective

unconscious. Yet, despite the shared heritage, each individual can reach his or her

destiny by following the omens strewn along the path of life.

The use of the word ‘omens’ in the narrative directly relates to the construct of

synchronicity. In Chapter Four, Segal (1992:249) refers to synchronicity as the sensing

and awareness of the deeper meaning of phenomena as “a Sense of the hand of God”, a

pervasive and awe-inspiring sense that the unconscious within and the outside world are

pervaded by a deeper and hidden order and meaning. Hence, the ‘Hand of God’

connotes a feeling of protection and certainty of the meaningfulness of seemingly

unrelated life occurrences which relate to a deeper sense of belonging. Omens hence act

as a bridge between matter and mind, and point to Peat’s (2002a) assertion that

“everything causes everything else and that each event emerges out of an infinite web or

network of causal relationships”. Moreover, according to Thurston (2001:20), these

“deep soul patterns” fulfil a participatory role by guiding towards events in the

individual’s journey of development which Chopra (2003:21) refers to as

‘synchrodestiny’ - the state within which there is a conscious awareness and deep

appreciation of the connection between an underlying reality and the individual

espoused by synchronistic occurrences and manifested in archetypal symbols.

6.4.2 ‘THE ALCHEMIST’, THE JOURNEY AND QUEST, AND PATTERNS OF

TRANSCENDENCE

6.4.2.1 Transcendence and the creation of the Self

Based on the preceding archetypal and mythical semiotic textual analysis and

interpretations, it is unmistakable that the text and the identified and amplified symbols

of ‘The Alchemist’ portray and signify the spiritual and mental transcendence of the

human psyche in terms of the postulations of individuation, the transcendent function

and the archetype of the Self as proposed by Jung. Moreover, it may be asserted that the

narrative, nested in an alchemical context, portrays the symbolic creation, development

and transformation of the Self and its successive alchemical unions with the ultimate


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being the union with the unus mundus, the soul of the world and the universe, also

referred to as the collective unconscious by Jung.

This process illustrated in the text is, according to Dorn (cited in Raff, 2000:86), typical

of the ‘work’ of the alchemist: he firstly “manifests the Self and then unites it with the

original world of creation – the world of spirit and synchronicity”. The following

description by Raff (2000:86) summarises the process of self-creation typified by the

three conjunctions of opposites, which is clearly demonstrated in the text of ‘The

Alchemist’: The first level consists of a period where the opposites are held in tension

for the engagement of the transcendent function. During this phase, the individual

experiences the Self from time to time, but is unable to sustain the experience. During

the second level, the experience of the Self becomes more profound and sustained,

whereas during the third level, the Self comes into relationship with a greater reality, the

archetypal mundus or the collective unconscious. In the text, the final conjunction is

described as the soul of the world and universe and the hand ‘that writes it all’.

The symbols and descriptions in the narrative thus provide a map of the successive steps

or stages in the journey and quest in the uncovering of the hidden treasure - the Self,

guided and assisted by synchronous omens. This is confirmed by the fact that 23 of the

41 identified and amplified symbols and myths were determined to relate to aspects and

levels of the Self. These include Santiago, church, tree, shepherd, boy, girl, Fatima, the

hidden treasure, the wise old man, the king, Melchizedek, the butterfly, Egypt, the

desert, the philosopher’s stone, the crystal, the emerald, the alchemist, the majestic white

horse, the snake, the pyramids, gold and the sun.

Moreover, the symbols signify the union of the unconscious, the collective unconscious

and the mind or the conscious. Consequently, the journey and quest in search of the

hidden treasure follow a symbolic pattern which throws light on the relationship

between the conscious and unconscious with the ultimate outcome of the quest being the

acquisition of a new consciousness and hence a transcendence from old confining

patterns to an elevated state of self-awareness. This is confirmed by the fact that 18 of

the 41 identified and amplified symbols and myths signify re-birth, regeneration and

transcendence. These include tree, water, butterfly, journey, hawk, falcon, alchemist,


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snake, scarab beetle, shepherd, king, crystal, tears, the elixir of life, Egypt, the pyramids,

gold and the sun.

There is furthermore a noticeable similarity in the mythological and symbolic

representation of the creation of the Self and creation myths as universally represented

in cultural products or texts. Seemingly, the creation of the Self and the myths and

symbols of creation share a similar symbolic nature and representation.

The ‘creation of the Self’ in the text of ‘The Alchemist’ moreover corresponds to the

stages of the journey of self-discovery as described by Rosen (2002:92) after Campbell

including:

The departure, with a call to adventure [the recurrent dream and the meeting with the

girl];

The initiation, with the road of trials, the confrontation with the shadow and the

meeting of an anima figure (in the case of a male) or animus (in the case of a female)

[the loss of money and possessions, the conflict and war, the near death battle with

the soldiers at the pyramids, and the meeting with the girl and Fatima] ; and

Reconciliation with a father-figure and the return effected by a magical flight or

rescue which represents the crossing of a final threshold of the unified Self [the

meetings with the wise old king and the alchemist, the turning into the wind and the

return to Andalusia to find the gold].

Moreover, the archetypal journey of the hero/ine is, according to Rosen (2002:93),

closely associated with the archetypal cycle of death and re-birth. The confrontation of

the Self with the shadow as enemy may be compared to a symbolic fear of death, which,

when overcome, depicts a submission to guidance of the anima or animus and hence the

‘Other’ and the contents of the unconscious. The hero’s expansion of consciousness

through the integration of unconscious symbolic content and a symbolic rebirth relate to

what Jung (in Storr, 1983:209) refers to as the “inner voices of a fuller life” and “living

the symbolic life”. The symbolic rebirth as depicted in transformation and creation

myths coincides with the various symbols used in ‘The Alchemist’ which in turn are

synonymous with an increase of self-consciousness. However, the “inner voices” may

not always be positive and the negatives may represent inner demons or the ‘shadow’


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which need to be conquered in order to expand the hero’s, and hence also the Self’s

consciousness.

In terms of a purely semiotic framework, alchemy is a metaphoric vehicle for the

expression of the transcendence and transformation of the Self. This assertion is derived

from the sign ‘alchemist’ acting as a signifier for several related signifieds. Alchemy, as

signifier, is hence ‘foregrounded’ in the interpretation of the text. The signs in the text

hence become symbolic and even iconic in service of the signifier (alchemy) (Chandler,

2001b). Paradoxically, each individual symbolic sign may also be seen as a metonymic

expression of the metaphoric alchemical theme of the narrative, and hence the signifieds

are ‘foregrounded’ (Chandler, 2001b). For example, the use of the sign ‘sword’ and

‘stone’ replace several amplified signifieds, hence foregrounding the signified concepts

of, for example, the replacement of discernment with sword and stone with wisdom. It is

also discernable that the signified meanings of the signs presented in ‘The Alchemist’

are also both polysemic and interrelated, like matrices where, for example, water as a

sign relates to trees as a sign, hence both the codes and signs act as bricolage as posited

by Lévi-Stauss.

Moreover, the signs, as part of a verbal code, may be interpreted on a double level of

articulation; for example, the signs may be interpreted as an abstract concept relating to

an absent signified (transformation) on the first level of articulation, and as an abstract

concept signified by a symbolic sign. This is indicated where the sign ‘tree’ may signify

transformation (first higher level of articulation) and concomitantly, the tree may signify

growth (second lower level of articulation). However, this classification is limited when

applied to the construct of the Self, for example, the tree signifies growth (second level

of articulation) and transformation (first level of articulation) of the Self as transcendent

signified (? level of articulation) or referent. Derrida (cited in Chandler, 2001a) argued

that there is no transcendent signified, and Jung argued that the Self is manifested (hence

signified) as a transcendent through symbols.

If Barthes’s (cited in Chandler, 2001a) ‘orders of signification’ are applied, the same

predicament seem to emerge. For example, a tree as signifier denotes a plant as signified

(first order of signification); a tree as signified connotes growth as a signified (second

order of signification); and a tree as a signified of growth and transcendence becomes a


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myth (third order of signification) and is interpreted as an ideology and hence religious

fable. Again, the archetypal structure of the Self as archetype is not represented in the

orders of signification.

If Peirce’s three-level approach to the signification of an archetype as proposed by

Semetsy (2002) is applied, the Self could be placed on a level of ‘Firstness’. According

to Semetsky (2002), the affective influence of archetypes is compatible with Peirce’s

triadic semiotics, and enables signs to function at the level of Firstness, that is outside

one’s individual cognition, yet inside the collective unconscious posited by Jung. She

concludes by saying that Jungian analytical psychology, both theoretically and

practically, may be considered as a pragmatic method in accord with Peirce’s maxim

(Semetsky, 2002).

Although Semetsky’s (2002) assertion seems plausible, semiotic analysis still does not

account for the specific function Jung (1969:180) attributed to the symbol as a

‘supraordinate third’, facilitating the unification of opposites (conscious and the

unconscious content) which never occurs on their own level. In addition to currently

denying the existence of a transcendent level of signification, the semiotic framework,

following Lacan, primarily focuses on the analysis of language as a sign system and

representation of the structure of the human mind. However, Rosen et al (1991) in their

proposed mechanism for evolutionary memory, place archetypal images and symbols in

the first ‘priming’ phase of the right hemisphere of the brain, paired with words and

meaning in the left hemisphere. In their second ‘recall’ phase, the archetypal symbol is

placed first with cognitive response and word retrieval placed on the fourth level. They

conclude by asserting that the association of meanings with archetypal images and

symbols occur outside conscious awareness. The implication is that there is possibly a

‘step’ of signification or ‘deep structure’ missing in the current semiotic framework. It

appears that all signification and meaning-making of specifically verbal text originate

with the archetypal image outside conscious awareness with the symbol as a

‘supraordinate third’, which becomes a sign, (including a symbolic sign) which in turn is

analysed as a social construct in semiotics. The proposed mechanism for evolutionary

memory is attached as Addendum III.


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6.4.2.2 Universality of symbolic and mythical signification

The universal construct of the transcendence of the human soul is apparent in the

symbolic and mythological representations of various cultures, religions and ages. For

example, Barnestone (1987:568) asserts that the phenomenon is visibly present in the

writings of the ancient Egyptians, Plotinus, a Neo-Platonist Greek writer, and the

practices of shamans and mystics representing both East and West. Rundle-Clarke

(1991:90, 129) refers to the so-called Egyptian ‘Osiris cycle’ of transformation as one of

the earliest mythical representations of the transcendence of the human psyche since the

ancient Egyptians considered Osiris as the “universal spirit of growth”. Jung (1968) also

refers to the myth of Osiris as an example of the representation of the individuation and

transcendence of the Self.

Jonas (quoted in Barnestone, 1987:568) explains that the “external topology of the

ascent through the spheres” as reflected in a myriad of diverse myths and symbols,

represent the successive divesting of the soul of its worldly envelopments. Through this

process, “the soul is regaining its original acosmic nature”, and the process becomes a

transposition of the mythical and symbolic into an inner transformation and an analogue

of the techniques of the transformation of the Self. Consequently, this transposition of a

mythological and symbolic theme into “inwardness” places the process of the translation

or ‘meaning-making’ of the successive stages of transformation within the “power and

orbit” of the individual culminating in “self-performable experience” (Jonas quoted in

Barnestone, 1987:568).

Moreover, Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:689) indicate that both suppressed and

deviant aspects of psychic life may be disposed to representational formulation. Through

the interpretation of symbol and myth, there is a restoration and understanding of the

drama of the inner life of the individual. Myth may also be the dramatisation of social

life, a sort of poeticised history. However, whatever the system of interpretation, myth

and symbol assist in the enlightenment of one dimension of human reality and show the

symbol-making side of the imagination at work (Cavendish, 1992:10). The analysis and

interpretation of myth and symbols do not claim to transmit scientific truth, but to give


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expression to the truth of some perceptions of the ‘symbolic life of the individual’.

Consequently, the interpretations of ‘The Alchemist’ aimed to discover and demonstrate

the symbolic depth, quality and connotative structures beneath the dramatic diversity of

symbols and myths represented in the narrative.

The following symbols used in the text of ‘The Alchemist’ are listed in the archetypal

symbol ASI and ASI-R, indicating their universality and also their unconscious

emergence from the collective unconscious:

the sun as signifying birth and masculinity;

the uroboros as signifying eternity;

the snake as signifying health and hence the ‘healing’ agent of transcendence;

the stone as signifying the Self;

the triangle or pyramid as signifying synthesis;

the squaring of the circle – representing a structure such as the church signifying a

centre and a quest;

rain or water as signifying life;

the moon as signifying the feminine;

the butterfly as signifying the soul;

a bird as signifying spirit; and

the hand as signifying protection.

6.4.2.3 Complex adaptive and chaos theories, and the dynamic of the symbolic Self

In a previous paragraph Sharp (1998:53, 108) described the process of individuation as a

circular odyssey, a spiral journey and indicates that the goal of the journey and the

finding of the hidden treasure are symbolic of the quest to find the true self and unique

potential. The pursuit reflects a time-honoured tradition which may differ in detail, but

the patterns are well known: only names and places and times change. The notion of the

process of individuation representing a spiral was also advanced by Jung (1960:28).

“The way to the goal seems chaotic and indeterminable at first, and only gradually do

signs increase that it is leading anywhere. The way is not straight but appears to go

around in circles. More accurate knowledge has proved it to go in spirals.”


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The spiral quest also appears to indicate that the archetype of the Self and its symbols

are both the origin and goal of transformation and transcendence which is evocative of

several notions advanced in complex adaptive systems and chaos theories, specifically

Jensen’s (quoted in Gleick, 1993:306) definition of quantum chaos. Jensen (quoted in

Gleick, 1993:306) defines chaos theory as, “The irregular, unpredictable behaviour of

deterministic, nonlinear, dynamical systems”. An essential distinguishing feature of

chaotic and complex systems is deterministic chaos within which patterns appear and

disappear which seems chaotic, unpredictable and irrational when mapped in two

dimensions. However, when mapped in three dimensions, the same processes reveal

shape, order, and singularity. Van Eenwyk (1997:112) asserts that the intricacies and

mechanism of symbols, and hence also the symbols of the Self, may be similar to those

operating in complex systems and the postulations made in complexity and chaos

theories.

There is a discernable and comparative similarity between the transcendent processes

and symbols reflected in the text and notions unearthed in the preceding chapters of the

study. For example, certain of the constructs and phenomena advanced in complex

adaptive and chaotic systems seemingly relate to the journey of transcendence and the

quest and creation of a new centre or pattern, the Self. These include; small differences

in initial conditions, iteration (journey), bifurcations (points in a system’s evolution),

the edge of chaos, strange attractors (repetitive patterns), symmetry building (the

preservation of character through processes of change), self-similarity, fractals and

fractal attractors, self-regulation, self-similarity and universality. Additionally, the

constructs pivotal to the notion of deterministic chaos appear similar in nature to the

process of individuation and transcendence of the Self through its symbols and myths.

The implication is that, for example, just as the outcome of iterative equations of chaos

is unpredictable, so is the symbolic and mythical pattern of the transcendence of the

Self. The establishment of a new and expanded consciousness (bifurcations) may

initially be associated with chaos and an undifferentiated unconscious level but

ultimately develops into a new discernable, symbolic pattern - a unified Self.

Concomitantly, both types of patterns of symbolic expression determine their own

destiny, whilst they iterate and fluctuate between fitness and chaotic landscapes.

Moreover, each symbolic expression is a self-similar and fractal attractor reflection of


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the bigger spiral pattern of transcendence. Self-similarity and the fractal dimensions of

chaotic equations are discernable in the repetitive symbolic and mythical transcendent

symbols patterns as reflected in the text of ‘The Alchemist’. These assertions will be

discussed in more detail in the final chapter.

6.4.2.4 The process of transcendence and communication

Of direct significance to the scope of this study, is the allusion to and possible similarity

of the process of intrapsychic communication and the conjunction of conscious and

unconscious content as signified by the symbols of the tree, Hermes Trismegistus, the

moon, the Emerald Tablet, the eternal feminine, the Urim and Thummim, crystals, the

warriors of light, Egypt, the snake and the sword. Moreover, the reference in the text to

the language of the soul and of God and a universal language signify the symbolic

interaction between the unconscious, the conscious and a transcendent reality - the soul

of the world and the universe. The principal impulsion of the successive unions of the

Self is hence facilitated through intrapsychic communication impelled by symbolic urge

of the archetype of the Self. These assertions will be discussed in more detail in the final

chapter.

6.5 SECTION B: CASE ANALYSIS OF DREAM SYMBOLS AND A SELF-REPORT

The approach in Section B, the analysis of dream symbols from a series of dreams and a

self-report based on the interpretation of a dream theme by means of active imagination,

will comprise a four-pronged process:

1) The identification of symbols represented in the dream images of the individual;

2) A selected cultural and mythological amplification of these symbols and their

correspondence to the ‘Archetypal Symbol Inventory’ (ASI) and the ‘Archetypal

Symbol Inventory Revised’ (ASI-R);

3) A placement of these images and symbols within the development pattern of the

individual and allusion to possible synchronistic significance; and

4) A case analysis and interpretation of the dream symbols identified and a self-report

based on the method of active imagination in the interpretation of a theme dream

series as represented in the dreams of an individual. The potential archetypal patterns

and the portrayal of the dynamics of transformation in intrapsychic communication


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as represented in dream interpretation will be explored. The self-report is attached

as Addendum IV.

6.5.1 IDENTIFICATION OF DREAM SYMBOLS

The sample of 10 dreams, involving a house as central theme, is described below to

allow the identification of symbols and symbolic patterns of transformation reflected in

the development of the dream theme. In total 29 dreams involving a house were

recorded. The dreams, which occurred over an eleven-year period, are presented in

sequential order.

1. I stood outside a formidable looking double-storey house on a hill with two lead-

laced doors which were draped with curtains. The curtains hung unevenly and that

bothered me. The house had no occupants and had a feeling of being abandoned and

difficult to reach. It also looked as if it had a life of its own since the sun reflected in

two front-facing windows, giving the appearance of two glaring eyes. I suddenly

joined a group of students ascending a spiral staircase leading to the blue sky

outside the house while singing “Grace, Thanks be to God".

2. Inside an unknown house, I saw ten hissing snakes with whiskers in the hand of a

fish. The snakes had colourful and typical African designs with the primary colours

being black, white, red and yellow-brown. The snakes disappeared in thin air and I

had an uneasy feeling, fearing that they may re-appear.

3. I dreamt I was in someone else’s late 19th century house. Walking around the house,

I had a poignant longing to live in the house with the large airy rooms and fire

places. [This same dream recurred three consecutive times. However, in the last

dream of this particular house, I actually lived in the house and three secret rooms

seemed to have appeared miraculously at the back of the house].

4. Dreaming that I was in my childhood house, I discovered an entire secret flat

adjacent to the left side of the main house that I never knew about. I experienced

regret never knowing of the complete ‘little house in a big house’, something I

always wanted. [This particular dream recurred two more times. In each successive

dream, I thought (in the dream), “I am here again, I wonder if the flat is still there”,

and (of course) it was].


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5. My mansion on the hill was still under construction, but I had a feeling of elation

since at last I could have my dream house. I lived in the house while the building

operations were being completed. As I wandered through the rooms, taking note of

every small intricate detail, I suddenly realised that there was a secret section in the

back of the house that I did not know about before. [This dream recurred twice with

the same feeling of familiarity and an inspection of the new building compared to the

last dream].

6. I dreamt that I was living in quite an ordinary looking house and as if by magic, a

secret Russian-like glass cupela (tower or dome) was added to the house. It was

filled with the most exquisite crystal glassware and artefacts, and white linen

tablecloths dressed the antique hand-carved tables on which a fine bone-china tea set

was laid out.

7. The dream was of a house with art-deco furniture and, magically, an entire secret

wing to the right side of the house opened up. This part of the house had two

lounges, each with distinctive furniture representing different genres. I experienced

both excitement and regret not having known about the wing sooner.

8. I lived in a v-shaped house that was built on the borders of two oceans, the west and

east oceans. I discovered a secret cellar filled with green snakes which was being

flooded with water from the two oceans.

9. I am living in my current house with water streaming from the ceiling.

10. I am living in a house of which I am only faintly aware since it dimmed into a faint

image at the back of my mind. Looking to my right and to the back, a part of the

house developed into a separate building which looked like an Egyptian or Hellenic

temple. The ‘temple’ was surrounded by water which was flooding the flight of

steps leading to the entrance to the building.

6.5.2 AMPLIFICATION OF DREAM SYMBOLS

Since certain of these dream symbols are similar to those that have been amplified in

Section A, the reader will be referred to the appropriate heading in Section A. In certain

instances, interpretative and representative symbolic aspects relating specifically to

dream symbols will be used to expand on the initial amplifications.


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6.5.2.1 House, mansion and temple

Refer to pages 292-294.

Millidge (1998:63) states that Jung was the first dream analyst to define the house as the

symbolic “mansion of the soul”, and consequently, the house usually represents the

dreamer. Additionally, every room of the house has a specific meaning. For example,

the ground levels or floors of the house represent the conscious mind in the dream; the

cellar or basement represents the unconscious; and the higher floors indicate the spiritual

or ‘higher aspects of the self’. The general state of the house, whether it is dilapidated or

well kept, corresponds to the ‘identity’ the individual dreamer presents to the external

and social world, whereas the style and architecture of the building are indicative of the

dreamer’s self-image and awareness. Hall (1983:82) too indicates that dreams of houses

indicate an image of the psyche and that unknown rooms in the house relate to hidden or

unexplored areas of the potential ego structure.

According to Millidge (1998:63) and Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:531), the living

room of a house represents the current life and social situation of the dreamer, whereas

the windows of a house correspond to the eyes as “the windows of the soul” and may

reflect the attitude of the dreamer to life in general. For example, closed and shuttered

windows may indicate an “inward-looking” and introspective attitude, whereas opening

a window may signify the need to open-up to new experiences or expand current

perspectives. Furthermore, attics and domes as the uppermost parts of a house may

indicate higher aspirations as well as memories. They may also represent the conscious

mind and the need for discernment. Churches and temples represent the spiritual nature

of the dreamer and may also refer to rituals and places of meditation and reflection

(Millidge, 1998:67).

Jung reportedly had a recurring dream of houses for several years with hidden and secret

cellars and wings which became the stimulation for his postulation of the unconscious

and collective unconscious and his discovery of alchemy (Stevens, 2003:46; Millidge,

1998:64; Robertson, 1995:234). Jung (1965:200) explains, “The house, of course, was a

symbol of my personality and its conscious field of interests; and the unknown annex


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represented the anticipation of a new field of interest and research of which my

conscious mind was at that time unaware”.

The house, like cities and temples, is considered as the centre of the world and is an

image of the universe. Specific types of houses express a cosmic symbolism which

means that they were built at the intersection of the North-South and East-West axes of

cities in many parts of the world (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:529). According to

Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:530), Buddhism identifies the human body itself with

the house, for example, the Patriarch Hui Neng called a house an ‘inn’, thus implying

that it could only be regarded as a temporary refuge, and in the Tibetan Wheel of Life,

the body is depicted as a house with six windows.

As has been asserted in a previous paragraph, in Ancient Egypt the name ‘houses of life’

was given to a kind of religious seminary attached to temples where scribes copied

liturgical writings and mythological paintings and physicians and surgeons were trained


Bachelard (cited in Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:530), asserts that the house signifies

the inner being of an individual and its floors, from cellars to attics, symbolise different

states of the soul, whereas the cellars correspond to the unconscious and the attics to

spiritual elevation. However, the house may also symbolise the feminine since it may be

regarded as a sanctuary, the mother and protection or the womb (Chevalier &


6.5.2.2 Spiral staircase

A staircase, according to Millidge (1998:65), may symbolise an emotional or spiritual

quest, and Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:922) state that it is a symbol of the

acquisition of learning and hence of ascent to a higher state of awareness. If it leads

skywards, the knowledge acquired may be viewed as that of a transpersonal or divine

world, and if it leads underground, it may relate to contents of the unconscious.

The ancient Egyptians used the symbol of the staircase to depict ascent since the

construction of the earliest pyramids specifically seen in the step-pyramids.


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Additionally, decorative Egyptian art and hieroglyphics depict souls of the dead

climbing a stairway of seven or nine treads to reach the throne of Osiris and undergo the

weighing of their hearts (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:922). These portrayals of the

‘stairway to heaven’ are clearly visible in the celestial boats (Chevalier & Gheerbrant,

1996:922; Jung, 1974:128).

The symbol of ascent may signify not only the pursuit of ‘higher’ knowledge, but also

an elevation of the whole being. Moreover, the stairway partakes of the symbolism of

the world axis, of verticality and of the spiral. Specifically, when it is a spiral staircase,

attention is focussed upon “the newel-post of a axial evolution”, which may be evoking

aspects of God, a principle such as love, art, consciousness and the personality of an

individual (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:923). Jung (1974:256-257) refers to the dream

of a spiral as signifying both gradual inner transformation and the centre by means of

‘circumambulatio’, “…for it seems as if the spiral of inner development had come round

again to the same point again, though higher up”.

The spiral, frequently seen in natural formations in both the vegetable and animal

kingdoms, for example, the shape of vines and convolvuli or snail- and sea- shells,

signifies the development of strength or the progressive growth of a condition. Chevalier

and Gheerbrant (1996:906) assert that the spiral shape, heavily imbued with symbolic

meaning, is encountered in all cultures. They (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:906)

speculate that this universal appearance may be because of the open and optimistic

nature of the motif which displays “the appearance of motion rotating outwards from a

fixed point of origination, continuously expanding and lengthening into infinity”.

Additionally, the spiral, according to Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:907), is linked to

the cosmic symbolism of the moon, the erotic symbolism of the vulva, the watery

symbolism of the shell and to such fertility symbols as the helix and the horn. “In short,

it stands for the repetitive rhythm of life, the cyclical nature of evolution and the

permanence of being beneath the flux of movement”. Since the spiral is a lunar and

aquatic fertility symbol, it may be viewed as the equivalent of all centres of life and

fecundity because it marks movement in a certain unity of order, and conversely a

permanent state of flux (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:907). Chetwynd (1993a:143)

indicates that the outward movement of the spiral symbolises action, whereas the inward


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movement of the spiral depicts inner reflection. Because of its dual meaning of

contraction and expansion, the symbolism of the spiral is also linked to that of the wheel

and is frequently found in carvings or as decorative motifs in metalwork, pottery and

coinage in most cultures. Chetwynd (1993b:320) too indicates that the upward spiral, as

the cycle of time, movement and change, may be associated with the wheel since it

portrays the notion of an enduring and unchanging principle. The simplified version of

the spiral is the serpent and the pole, the zigzag movement of the serpent, lightning,

water, and the swinging pendulum, which are all models of the fundamental and

alternating movement of the universe (Chetwynd, 1993a:143).

Where the ‘flat’ spiral is closely related to the maze, evolution from the centre, or

involution returning to it, the double spiral simultaneously symbolises the two directions

of this movement and also birth and death or ‘kalpa’ and ‘pralaya’. This is closely

related to the dividing line separating the black and white halves of the yin and yang,

signifying the alternating rhythm or alternating expansion and contraction of the

movement of the double spiral. The double spiral also signifies the double coiling of the

serpents round the caduceus and the double helix around the Brahman’s staff (Chevalier

& Gheerbrant, 1996:907).

Valcarenghi (1997:127-128) asserts that the spiral form, as the derivative of the

labyrinth and comparable to the cross, “represents the simplest graphic image of the

union of opposites that the human imagination has been able to produce and recognize

in nature”. The spiral serves as a metaphor for “the meeting of physical and psychic

opposites; inside and outside, contraction and expansion; dissolution and creation,

shadow and light, conscious and unconscious…”

The spiral is also an abiding leitmotif with its symbolism “reinforced by mathematical

speculation which turns it into the sign of equilibrium in a state of disequilibrium and of

the stability of being in the womb of change” (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:907).

Consequently, spirals, and especially logarithmic spirals, have the property of growth in

a way which retains ultimate shape, the overall shape of the figure remaining unaltered,

and thus of having permanence of shape despite asymmetrical growth.


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Many Africans regard the spiral or helix as the symbol of the dynamic of life and as the

movement of souls in the created and in expanding existence (Chevalier & Gheerbrant,

1996:908). For example, a single spiral signifies the coiled serpent which may be

perceived as an image of the creator, the cyclical occurrence of life and the soul’s

cyclical wanderings in the afterlife. Additionally, the uroboros is regarded as its own

twin – “the two in one, coiled in a spiral round the world which they preserve from

disintegration” (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:907). Chetwynd (1993a:195) refers to

the process of transformation, initiation and enlightenment, hence the evolution and

involution as “the unfolding spiral of consciousness”.

Owusu (2002:47) indicates that in ancient Egypt, many objects depict spiral-shaped

decorations which were originally possibly associated with a coiled snake. As a

protective symbol on Egyptian amulets, the spiral embodied the life-line in the eternal

cycle of birth and death. Consequently, this shape indicates the dynamic of further

development that takes place as life cycles follow one another.

Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:907) assert that the spiral clearly plays a part in

portraying the basic significance of primeval motion, the “creational vibration which is

the basis of all created things”. Mercier (cited in Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:907)

uses the following phrase to describe the essential nature and notions signified by the

spiral: “doing nothing of itself, but without it, nothing can be done”.

6.5.2.3 Hill

The Ancient Egyptians regarded a hill as a symbol of the first creation which emerged

from the ‘chaos’ of the primordial waters. Consequently, hills were the first

manifestation of the creation of the world and mark the beginning of differentiation and

emergence from chaos (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:506). Jung (1969:203) asserts

that a mountain, and hence also a hill, means ascent, particularly a spiritual and mystical

ascent to the heights “to a place of revelation where the spirit is present”.


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6.5.2.4 Snakes

Refer to xxiv, pages 337-340.

Dreams of snakes or serpents may represent both negative and positive aspects in the

unconscious of the dreamer. A Freudian interpretation of snakes as dream symbols

relates to sexuality, whereas a Christian interpretation may relate to sin and wickedness.

However, in mythology and art, the serpent may represent wisdom and may act as the

guardians of secret knowledge and temples (Millidge, 1998:56). Hall (1983:87) also

explains that the snake in dream symbols may relate to sexuality, wisdom, instinctual

energy, healing (as on the staff of Asclepius, the physician’s emblem), danger (due to its

association with poison), and as a pre-figuration of Christ, hence the Self.

Jung (1969:234) indicates that in alchemy the “snake is the symbol of Mercurius non

vulgi, who was bracketed with the god of revelation, Hermes”. The snake or serpent was

also associated with a chthonic spirit that dwells in the original chaos hidden in creation.

6.5.2.5 Fish

Fish, belonging to the ‘underworld of water’, often, according to Millidge (1998:58),

represent unconscious and intuitive insights. Additionally, a fish may represent fertility,

creativity and inspiration. Raff (2000:87) indicates that, as a dream symbol, the fish

points to contents of the unconscious, and water or the sea signifies the collective

unconscious. Jung described the significance of the symbol of the fish to its

characterisation of the archetypal symbols of the Self in a state of unconscious content

(Raff, 2000:87).

Jung (1969) did an extensive amplification of the symbol of the fish in its relation to the

Self and as comparative symbolism of the Christ-figure. He (Jung, 1969:72) states,

“apart from the snake, the fish is one of the oldest allegories”. However, he (Jung,

1969:73) immediately invalidates the use of the term ‘allegory’ and indicates that he

prefers the term symbol to describe the fish, since he does “not regard the symbol as a

allegory or sign but take it in its proper sense as the best possible way of describing and

formulating an object that is not completely knowable”.


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Additionally, Jung (1969:110) claims that it is through the fish that the dualistic nature

of the Christ-figure, and hence also the Self, is symbolised. “Christ, as a man,

corresponds to the ego, and as God, to the self, he is at once both ego and self, part and

whole”. Consequently, consciousness as represented by the ego cannot comprehend the

whole, “but it is probable that the whole is unconsciously present in the ego” (Jung,

1969:111). The dualistic nature of the Christ-figure is hence assimilated into the world

of ideas through the symbolism of the fish since it is so far removed from His sacred and

divine nature, indicating His transcendence from man to God (Jung, 1969:111).

Owusu (2000:111) indicates that according to Ancient Egyptian myth, fish and the

“murderous and unpredictable” storms of the ocean were associated with Seth or Set,

the god of chaos and destruction. Owusu (2000:111) also explains that in the religious

thinking of the Egyptians, “life was always played out between the opposing poles of

good and evil, forces of creation and destruction”. Consequently, fish were considered

as unclean, and priests and kings were forbidden to eat it. Paradoxically, the goddess

‘Hamehit’, symbolised with a dolphin on her head, was considered as the “first of fishes”

Owusu (2000:257).

Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:383) highlight the same symbolic association with fish,

showing its foundation in the ‘waters under the earth’, and the Underworld and may thus

be regarded as sharing the ‘chaotic’ character of their element, water and their

‘uncleanness’. Paradoxically, as a symbol of water, fish are associated with cyclical

birth or rebirth, saviours or redeemers and instruments of revelation. “Christ himself is

often depicted as a fisherman, Christians being fish since the waters of baptism are their

natural element, and He himself is symbolized by a fish. Thus, He is the Fish which

guides the Ark of the Church” (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:383).

6.5.2.6 Crystal

Refer to page 322.

Jung (1974:249) explains that dreams of crystals may be related to the alchemical lapis,

hence, “dealing with the coveted lapis, the treasure hard to attain…and amounts to an

unconscious recapitulation of the efforts of Hermetic philosophy”.


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6.5.2.7 Water and East-West Ocean

Refer to pages 309-311.

Water and deep oceans may represent the unconscious in dreams, but may also indicate

life forces, and purifying and cleansing properties (Millidge, 1998:71). Bolen (2003:73)

also states that the sea in dreams and metaphors represent the unconscious, where, in its

shallows are the emotions and, “in its dark depths are primitive creatures and myriad

forms beyond which can be personally known, the collective unconscious”. These

assertions concur with Chevalier and Gheerbrant’s (1996:383) indication that the sea as

an image of the unconscious which may be either destructive or regenerative.

Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:386) assert that seas and oceans are also images of the

primal undifferentiated state of primeval formlessness reflected in Indian, Chinese,

Greek, Roman and Egyptian mythology, such as the ocean upon which Vishnu

slumbered, “the Upper Waters of Divine Being, of Nirvana and of Tao”. According to

Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:837), in Ancient Egyptian mythology, the creation of

earth, life and the gods were conceived in terms of emergence from the primeval waters.

Ostensibly, sea symbolism is linked to water as origin and dynamism of all life.

“Everything comes from the sea and everything returns to it. It is a place of birth,

transformation and rebirth. With its tides, the sea symbolizes a transitory condition

between shapeless potentiality and formal reality, an ambivalent situation of

uncertainty, doubt and indecision which can end well or ill. Hence the sea is an image

simultaneously of death and of life” (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1996:388).

Chevalier and Gheerbrant (1996:334) indicate that east is often “contrasted with the west

as spirituality with materialism, wisdom with instability, the contemplative with the

active life or the metaphysical with the psychological…” Consequently, journeys to the

East are often viewed as quests for enlightenment, especially cherished by Sufis, who

regard the west as relating to the body and the east to the ‘Universal Soul’. The East is

thus considered as an inner reality whereas the West is viewed as the external and

material reality. For example, “Sufi journeys start with a ‘western exile’ which is a

return to primal matter, purification, alchemical ‘separation’, a step required before


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reintegration into the eastern source of spiritual knowledge” (Chevalier & Gheerbrant,

1996:334).

6.5.3 CASE ANALYSIS OF DREAM SYMBOLS AND SELF-REPORT

6.5.3.1 Contextualising the dream symbols

The dreamer is a 49-year old female who has been working on post-graduate studies for

the last nine years. The first dream theme was recorded one year before the

commencement of her master’s degree. During the last six-year period, the dreamer

went through a divorce and the concomitant financial difficulties and disseverment of

established friendships. In terms of Jungian constructs and postulations, the dreamer is

experiencing the effects of ‘awakening’ to the realities of the ‘midlife’, or the ‘Middle

Passage’ as referred to by Hollis (1993:7) and the ‘wounding of the ego’.

Hollis (1993:9) states that the first step in making the ‘Middle Passage’ meaningful is

the realisation that the lens through which reality is viewed has been provided by family,

friends and the socio-cultural environment which influenced subsequent life choices.

This may represent a ‘conditional’ life which reflects, “not who we are, but how we were

conditioned to see life and make choices”. As a result, a ‘split’ develops between the

‘natural’ and ‘socialised’ self, which, during the middle passage, may develop into a

‘midlife crisis’ due to the disparity between the inner sense of self and the acquired

personality. Hollis (1993:15) states, “The transit of the Middle Passage occurs in the

fearsome clash between the acquired personality and the demands of the Self”. Hence,

specifically (not exclusively) during the middle passage, the Self is starting to make its

presence felt, which Hollis (1993:25) calls “the insurgence of the Self, that mysterious

process within each of us which summons us to ourselves”. The disparity may lead to

feelings of being ‘separated’ from oneself which often result in symptoms of, for

example, depression, loss of energy, a diminution of hope and the shock of having lost

the normative ‘projections’ and roles perceived to be prescribed by the social-cultural

environment (Hollis, 1993:33-37). There is also an increased awareness of loss of “a

tacit contract with the universe” and that things will go according to an implicit socially

predestined plan (Hollis, 1993:41).


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This period is hence experienced as a ‘falling-apart’ of one’s life and a fragmentation of

one’s personality. Overall, the middle passage is a humbling and reflective period where

questions regarding disillusionment and causes of mishaps are frequently asked.

However, “the experience of crisis in the midlife is the collapse not of our essential

selves, but of our assumptions” (Hollis, 1993:115). Hollis (1993:38) indicates that rather

than medicate these symptoms away, one should engage in an inner dialogue to bring

about a new adaptation. Additionally, this conflicting and painful period is a time not to

indulge in ‘outer’ activities to save a drowning ego such as starting an affair or buying a

ridiculously expensive red convertible. Rather, it is a time to turn ‘within’ and establish

contact with the Self. One of the most useful ways to establish an inner dialogue is by

working with one’s dreams since the psyche speaks through them in often bizarre

images, “which incarnates the energies and teleology of the Self” (Hollis, 1993:109).

Dreams from the “nocturnal depths”, although at times appearing to confound truth, are

imbued with meaning and re-establish one with “the mysterious purpose of the universe

working in and through us all” (Hollis, 1993:109).

The middle passage is thus a period where one should give notice to the promptings of

the Self by turning ‘within’ and submitting to the call of the symbolic life of

individuation and transcendence. Typically, in the beginning of the process of

individuation, dreams serve to portray the inner drama of the individual’s life ranging

from “lightning impressions to endlessly spun out dream-narratives” (Jung, 1974:82).

6.5.3.2 Interpretation of amplified dream symbols

Jung (1974:82) asserted that most dreams follow a structure not unlike that of a drama.

He identified four phases with several stages in each phase. For example, the dream

starts with a first phase called “a statement of place”, which in the dreams of this

dreamer seems to revolve around the theme of a house evident in the statements “I am

outside a house” or “I am inside a house”. Part of the first phase is “statements about the

protagonists”, which is an elaboration of the statement of place. For example, “The

house looks abandoned”. Jung (1974:82) refers to this stage as “the exposition of the

dream”, where “the scene of action, the people involved and often the initial situation of

the dreamer” are described.


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The second phase is the “development of a plot”, for example, “I am walking around in

the house and the house is not mine”. During the ‘development of the plot’ stage, the

situation becomes more complicated, with possible tension developing, for example, “It

looked like the house had a life of its own”.

The third phase was called the “culmination or peripeteia” phase, “where something

decisive happens or something changes completely” (Jung, 1974:82). The word

‘suddenly’ is described several times during this phase of the dreams Jung analysed. In

the dreams of this dreamer, the sudden appearance of a hidden or secret room falls into

this category.

The fourth phase was called the “solution or result” phase of the dream by Jung

(1974:83) which in some dreams are lacking. The solution phase shows the solution of

the dream or the solution the dreamer may have been seeking in the dream. In the

dreams of this dreamer, the first dream’s final words “Grace, Thanks to God”, and

ascend of a spiral staircase may be related to an immanent journey of individuation and

transcendence. This interpretation is derived from Jung’s (1972:64) assertions that

“natural transformation processes announce themselves mainly in dreams, and his

(Jung, 2002:51) definition of dreams as “spontaneous self-portrayal, in symbolic form,

of the actual situation in the unconscious”.

Dreams hence show the inner truth and reality of an individual as they are in actuality.

Moreover, a central theme develops from a series of dreams which primarily relates to

the Self and a process of growth. Von Franz (1964:163) states, “The Self can be defined

as an inner guiding factor that is different from the conscious personality and that can

be grasped only through the investigation of one’s own dreams”. The symbol of the

house in the first recorded dream is experienced by the dreamer as abandoned without

any occupants, with an ominous feeling of the house being an entity (the Self) outside

the reach of the ego. The uneven curtains may allude to a current imbalance in the life

situation of the dreamer and the eeriness associated with the house may be attributed to

the unfamiliarity of the unconscious landscape to the dreamer. The double-storey may

reflect the dimensional aspect of the Self as emerging from the unconscious. The spiral

staircase standing outside the house is hence a prompting from the Self to grow and

transcend current difficulties in life.


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In the second recorded dream, there is an interesting correspondence to Jung’s (1969:36)

interpretation of fish and snakes as dream symbols. Jung (1969:188) states that the

serpent (snake), like the fish “represents and personifies the dark and unfathomable, the

watery deep, the forest, the night, the cave”. Additionally, both symbols are

representative of the symbolism of individuation and are associated with Christ as an

archetypal pattern of the Self. All three symbols (fish, snake and the Son - Christ) “seek

to describe the unknowable essence of the incarnate God” (Jung, 1969:188). The

serpent, as a more “authentic symbol”, is an equivalent of the fish and, according to Jung

(1969:186), often “dart” out of the unconscious with a frightening or redeeming effect.

Both symbols are often describes as ‘helpful animals’.

Jung (1968:173) indicates that the different symbols of the Self found in narrative and

dreams are comparable to layers of presentation in the psyche, for example, the deeper

the symbol is, the more archetypal and universal its representations are. The more

abstract, differentiated, unique and specific it is, the more “it sloughs off its universal

nature”. Consequently, the snake and fish are ‘deeper’ and more ‘archaic’

representations of the Self in comparison to the house. The number 10, according to

Todeschi (1995:186), may be interpreted as representing strength and completeness, and

may correspond to unity and a new beginning corresponds to the symbol of the snake as

being a primordial image of unity.

Where the three symbols of the fish, snakes and hill allude to a primordial state of the

undifferentiated ‘chaos’, the symbol of the house, which is recurrently found in the

recorded dreams, represents the psyche as an essential theme in the process of

individuation. Von Franz (in Jung et al, 1964:159) proposed that dreams seem to follow

an arrangement or pattern which is the process of individuation. The archetype of the

Self, the creator or inventor, organiser and source of these dream images is, the “nuclear

atom” (Von Franz in Jung et al, 1964:161), or quantum of the psyche. It has also been

asserted in Chapter Five that Jung (1974:48) associates recurring dreams mainly with a

recurrent problem and unrecognised possibilities. They may be a continuation or an

extended story of a steadily evolving series and tend to tell a running narrative, which

feeds the conscious ego with information it requires and could assimilate at a particular

stage of an individual’s developmental process (Whitmont & Perera, 2002:120).


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In this dream series, a slow, but discernable development is manifested in the portrayal

and description of the houses. The development path is depicted with the dreamer first

standing outside an unfamiliar house, and then being in someone else’s house, and then

her mansion or ‘Self-awareness’ being constructed, with the ultimate development

portrayed in the last dream by the separate temple representing the Self as a completed

entity. The temple hence indicates that a new transcendent Self as centre of the psyche

has developed of which the dreamer is increasingly becoming aware. This is represented

by the crystal in the dome where the dome represents the conscious mind and the

formation of the Self as the stone.

The secret adjacent rooms allude to undeveloped or unattended aspects of the psyche.

An interesting aspect of the secret adjoining rooms in this particular dream series is that

they are circumambient of the house, including rooms to the left, right, below, above

and behind the existing structure of the house. This alludes to aspects in the

constellation of the Self as a house being similar to the archetypal theme of the ‘axis

mundi’ represented in the mandala and other symbols of the Self as proposed by Jung

(1968). The ‘axis mundi’ is described as the centre of the home, village and individual

and is, according to Gray (1996:18), an example of a fundamental archetypal pattern

which Jung (1968) associated with the quoternio of orientation of north, south, east and

west. Henderson (in Jung et al, 1964:169) refers to the ‘axis mundi’ as the psychic

nucleus or vital centre of the personality from which the whole structural development

of the consciousness stems. The Self is presented in the dreams as centre, circle and

circumference; hence, it serves as both origin and goal of the process of individuation

and transcendence. In one of the dreams the positioning of the house on an east-west

axis and moreover the image of the snakes in the ocean may mean that the creation and

emergence of the Self are dependent upon a harmony between the ‘material west’ and

the ‘spiritual east’, hence a synthesis between opposites.

In the dreams, the symbols of the water and the sea allude to the unconscious and its

depth from which they arise. Additionally, the streaming of the water from the ceiling or

roof of the house represents the filtering of unconscious contents into consciousness.

The water rising to the steps leading to the temple represents the collective unconscious

and primordial matter or chaos in which the Self as archetypal pattern is rooted.


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A pertinent aspect of the dream series is not only the concurrence with certain growth

patterns of the dreamer, but also the obvious synchronistic nature of the dreams. This

assertion is derived from the fact that the dreams occurred during a period when the

dreamer was specifically working on transcendence patterns in her masters and doctoral

studies. Is has been indicated in Chapter Five that Hall (1983:92) claims that on a

theoretical level, the occurrence of synchronistic dreams is evidence of a close

connection between the unconscious and events occurring in a person’s life at a

particular time. According to Von Franz (in Jung et al, 1964:223), synchronistic events

almost invariably accompany crucial phases of the process of individuation. Hence,

these events share an archetypal foundation and additionally allude to an “impossibility”

which is often viewed as a “hope-giving miracle” by the individual who experiences

them (Jung, 1985:29). Von Franz (in Jung et al, 1964:226) indicates that meaningful

coincidences in an individual’s life seems to be activated by an archetype in the

unconscious of the individual concerned, and expresses itself in a symbol in both the

inner and outer environment of the said individual. The common denominator is a

symbolically expressed message.

Additionally, not only is there a synchronistic alliance between inner and outer events of

the dreamer, but also an interesting synchronistic complicity with the work on Jung she

is studying. Jung reportedly also had a recurring dream of a two-storey house during a

nine year period of intensified research on the mind and unconsciousness. However, in

this instance the house had a hidden and ancient-looking cellar and a cave underneath it

with remains of a primitive culture which was chiefly responsible for his postulation of

the collective unconscious (Stevens, 1990:21). In addition, Jung (1985) reports on

numerous synchronic trends revealed in his dreams and events in his life which this

dreamer can also attest to in her life.

6.5.3.3 Interpretation of self-report

The interpretation will be focussed on the experience of the dreamer during the process

of active imagination as a method of dream symbol interpretation. The validity of such

an exploration and interpretation is derived from Jung’s (1972:5) assertions that the


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interpretation of the representation of an archetype requires an inner dialectical

procedure, hence a process possibly representing intrapsychic communication.

Significant feelings of ambivalence and ambiguity are noticeable in the use of the

method of active imagination since the dreamer found it difficult to differentiate

between what is real and imagined, and what symbols are emerging from the

unconscious, and what may be the result of unconscious figments being elaborated on in

the conscious mind. The dreamer expressed the notion of a ‘chaotic’ presentation and

movement of thoughts and images between the imagination and consciousness as though

the conscious mind is difficult to control and constantly interferes with the process of

imagination by making judgement calls and presenting thoughts such as ‘what

nonsense!’. Despite the initial difficulty in effectively using the method, the unconscious

seem to triumph over the tendency of the conscious mind to belittle images from the

imagination. The interplay between the conscious and unconscious images and

interpretation seem to result in a ‘third’ transcendent and supra-ordinate synthesis in

consciousness.

An interesting correspondence is noted in the initial experience of a ‘dot’ darting in and

out of conscious awareness and the construct of entopic images reported by Jacobs

(2003:29), Palmer and Palmer (2002:234) and Lewis-Williams & Dowson, (1989:61;

2000:61). Palmer and Palmer (2002:234) state that these entopic images are evoked by

an innate aesthetic releaser response and Lewis-Williams and Dowson (1989:61;

2000:61) report that the shamanic San of the Kalahari Desert recreated similar entopic

phenomena or images in their art during periods of self-induced altered states of

consciousness in shamanic ceremonies and ritual. These symbolic expressions and

entopic phenomena relate to Jung’s notions of archaic images and historical formulae

which appear recurrently in various other ancient images and symbolic representations.

Jung (1968a:39) proposed that the psyche’s mode of experience is in images – image is

thus always of the psyche, specifically of the collective unconscious. Moreover, he

(Jung, 1968a:39) states, “the symbolic process is an experience in images of images”.

Additionally, it is noticeable that the dreamer experienced a perceived sense of harmony

with a transcendental reality derived from her description of the ‘soul of the universe’

being in collaboration with her journey of transcendence.


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6.5.4 DREAMS AND PATTERNS OF TRANSCENDENCE

6.5.4.1 Transcendence and the creation of the Self

The identified and amplified symbols discernibly portray and represent the spiritual and

mental transcendence of the dreamer in terms of the postulations of individuation, the

transcendent function and the archetype of the Self as proposed by Jung. The

interpretation of the symbols in the ‘dream narrative’ moreover represent the union of

the unconscious and the conscious with the ultimate outcome of a new awareness of

‘hidden’ information rooted in the unconscious. Consequently, as an individual

consciously responds to the images from the unconscious, it seems to respond to the

newly gained positions of consciousness and thus a dialectical play develops.

There is furthermore a noticeable similarity in the mythological and symbolic

representation of the creation of the Self as represented in the narrative of ‘The

Alchemist’ and the dream symbols of the dreamer. The dream series seem to follow a

thematic elaboration to unfold and reflect a central theme and pattern of transcendence.

The development of the pattern does not follow a linear progression, but rather represent

a circular or spiral movement around the central thematic core.

6.5.4.2 Universality of symbols in dreams

The following symbols which were identified in the dream series are listed in the

archetypal symbol ASI and ASI-R, indicating their universality and also their

unconscious emergence from the collective unconscious:

the snake representing health and hence the ‘healing’ agent of transcendence;

the stone (crystal) as representing the Self;

the squaring of the circle – a centre and a quest represented in a structure such as a

house;

rain or water as representing life;

a fish representing transformation; and

steps or stairs representing ascent.


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6.5.4.3 The process of transcendence and communication in dreams

Aziz (1990:25) explains that the transcendent function is in operation when a ‘dialogue’

between the conscious and unconscious during active imagination takes place in which

both sides exchange points of view until a compromise is reached that takes both

positions into account and subsequently a third, transcendent position is attained. It is

noticeable that the confrontation with the unconscious through the use of active

imagination suggests comparability to the transcendent third through the process of

intrapsychic communication. Consequently, an understanding of how an individual

approaches and interprets archetypal images and symbols as encountered in dreams and

during active imagination may be indicative of how conscious (thesis) and unconscious

(anti-thesis) aspects merge into a cohesive whole (synthesis). The process of active

imagination hence provides the opportunity of communication between the conscious

and unconscious to bring about change. The process hence represents intrapsychic

communication. These assertions will be discussed in more detail in the final chapter.

6.6 COMMENTS AND SUMMARY

The key to the understanding of the inner life of the human psyche is the identification

and the interpretation of symbols and myths during the process of intrapsychic

communication since they mark out both precedent and future patterns of development

on both individual and universal levels. It is distinguishable that each successive level of

unfolding of the psyche towards self-realisation is manifested by a symbolic

representation reflected in both the narrative of ‘The Alchemist’ and a series of

recurrent personal dreams, and, moreover, correspond to universal symbolic

representations portrayed in historical formulae or archetypal myths, symbols and

images. These assertions will be presented in an experiential theory and model of

intrapsychic communication in the next chapter.

archetypal and mythical semiotic textual and case analyses

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