The Lost Prince (18 page)

“That is another way of describing it. I have come to think of myself as a Gnostic. And I think I should include Dr. James within that description.”

“A Gnostic?” Eleanor said, musing on the idea. “I fear I am not totally familiar with the Gnostics.”

“They were at the time of the early Christians, you know. A Gnostic, one who pursues gnosis, the fullness of knowing. It is one dedicated to knowing the reality of the inner life through direct experience and personal revelation. It was this quest for gnosis which led me to grant fundamental
importance to dreams, fantasies, and visions, to attempt to understand them through the study of literature, philosophy, and religion, and, ultimately, to adopt psychiatry as a career.”

“And that is a unique calling?” Eleanor said.

Jung paused and gave the question more weight than perhaps the questioner intended. “You know I have for a long time thought of myself as made up of two separate personalities. Number one was the son of my parents who went to school and coped with life as well as he could, while number two was much older, remote from the world of human society, but close to nature and animals, to dreams, and to, yes, God. Number two has no definable character at all. Born, living, dead, everything in one, a total vision of life. As a psychiatrist I came to understand that these two personalities were not unique to me but present in everyone. Only I was for some reason more aware of them than most, particularly of number two. In my life number two has been of prime importance, and I have always tried to make room for anything that wanted to come from within.”

“The earthbound self and the universal self,” she said. “And you see Dr. Freud as too much number one.”

“Well, that is putting too fine a point on it perhaps, but, yes, I suppose so.”

“And Dr. James as a fellow number two.”

“Intriguing,” Jung said. “And how do you see Dr. James as number two?”

Eleanor frowned slightly and gave the question some thought. “Defining
that
is a tall order,” she said. She paused again before offering, “Dr. James’s definition of the mind’s work is broad enough to encompass the transcendentalists and the Buddhists and the Hindus. We know that much. He would say that our normal waking, rational consciousness is but one kind, while all about it lie potential forms that are entirely different.”

“And he encourages us,” Jung said, continuing her thought, “to spend our energy exploring those other potential forms?”

“Exactly. We may go through life without suspecting the existence of those alternate forms of consciousness, but if we apply the proper stimulus, they will appear to us in their completeness.”

“That is where we find his interest in meditation and the pursuit of mystical experience, taking certain drugs perhaps, the realms of what Dr. James calls parapsychology?”

“Yes, exactly. Here is where he found Dr. Freud interesting and definitely provocative. His controversial theories have caused a sensation, to be sure, and perhaps set the stage for what he calls psychoanalysis. That is Dr. Freud’s great contribution, I am certain Dr. James would say, but at the same time that it is all too literal and restricting.”

“His sexual theories?”

“Yes,” Eleanor said, looking down again. “A Boston lady does not speak of such things, you know.”

“Oh, I am sorry to be so bold.”

Eleanor smiled. “You do not need to worry, Dr. Jung. We are very far from Boston out here. And besides, I am one who wishes to be bold in such matters.”

“I am glad that I am not offending,” he said, pausing. “Sexual theory, seen as bold even in Vienna and Zurich, is the very source of our disagreement,” Jung said quickly, rushing past any embarrassment. “Dr. Freud considers the cause of repression always to be sexual. For me, the causes are much broader than that. The narrowness is highly unsatisfactory to me.”

“Dr. James would find agreement with you, I believe.”

“Does he think me literal and restricted by Dr. Freud’s ideas?”

“I believe he sees your ideas as more in agreement with his, as they begin to consider more of those parapsychological elements.”

“Such as séances and mystical experiences?”

“Yes.”

“And are there other occurrences?” Jung asked.

Eleanor paused, thinking. She had wanted to tell him of Will Honeycutt’s thesis and now found the moment. “A former student of Dr. James wrote a remarkable senior thesis in the physics department at Harvard College, and Dr. James took it seriously, as I think you would have.”

“And Dr. Freud would not have?”

“Perhaps,” Eleanor said. “This student carried on a discussion with a character who appeared in his dreams. The revelations in this imagined conversation were thought brilliantly accurate by some, and—”

“And demented by others,” Jung said, finishing her thought, as if familiar with the phenomenon.

“Exactly. He was, after all, hearing voices. Dr. James mentioned on a number of occasions that he thought you would have been among those
who found the consultation with dreams brilliant. In matters like this, he finds you capable of a great, expansive future, if only—”

Again, the young doctor cut her off. “And he sees my close association with Dr. Freud limiting in that regard? In this case of what we could call active participation in one’s dreams?”

“Again, I do not wish to be presumptuous in speaking for Dr. James,” Eleanor said, pausing.

“But he does see me as being restricted?”

“Yes. I do not wish to be blunt,” she said, pausing again. “But, yes, I believe Dr. James sees you as held back from areas like this
active imagination,
” she added, using a term she had learned from the Vienna journal.

“And Dr. Freud would not be interested in this—” He paused. “This
active imagination,
” he said slowly, repeating the term.

“Yes,” she said. “I think he would not find my Harvard friend’s thesis interesting and would find the practice of conversing with characters in dreams outside his interest.”

Then the two hikers sat in silence, absorbing the beauty around them and reflecting on what had been said. “Dr. James is not well, you know,” Eleanor said after a time, her mood shifting suddenly. “In the past he would have been on this walk with us, leading the way up the mountain with his great strides. You would have heard from him directly. He is a man of great vitality—or was. But his heart is not strong now, and he is taken frequently by bouts of angina.”

“What a shame,” Jung said. “That is not a good symptom, you know.”

“He struggles through bravely.”

“You may have to speak for his ideas after he is gone. Are you intimidated by that role?”

The observation caught her by surprise. “Oh,” she said, “I hope the condition is not that serious.”

“Nevertheless, you are a good surrogate.” Carl Jung had a way of staring intently into the eyes during a conversation, a habit Eleanor, like most of his associates, became accustomed to over time, but now in this first meeting it made her self-conscious. She looked away. “You do him honor,” Jung said, with what Eleanor was beginning to find a very appealing directness. In fact, it was around this time that she began to realize how much she was loving this depth of exchange.

“I have enjoyed these conversations,” she said, returning his gaze.

“We must find a way to continue them,” he said. “Across oceans and continents.”

That made Eleanor laugh. “Across oceans and continents,” she repeated. “How grand.”

“Grand”—he paused, now he the one looking down at his feet—“and fitting.”

“Quite fitting,” she repeated, acknowledging for the first time that it might have been unwise for them to come this far alone.

“What advice would Dr. James give?” he said quickly.

“I can hardly speak for him,” she protested again.

The young doctor smiled and looked around. “I notice that the eminent professor is not here, and I was hoping that someone might represent him in this idyllic moment.”

She released a laugh. “Well, in that case, in this idyllic moment, as you say, I suppose I ought to try again.”

“I suppose also,” he said with the same smile.

Eleanor took a deep breath and looked up at her hiking partner. “I believe that Dr. James would suggest, as we have discussed, that you loosen the ties to Dr. Freud and his Viennese colleagues.” The directness of her words surprised them both.

Jung paused. “Dr. Freud and I agree on much, but there is much unspoken on which we do not agree. There is a tension. At the beginning of this trip, while we were still in Bremen, Dr. Freud accused me of wishing him dead.”

“Oh my,” Eleanor said.

“We are a bit too close. I feel a responsibility to remain near to him in thinking and to avoid any differences, and yet I do feel a kinship with Dr. James and the less literal aspects of psychology. Dr. Freud’s interpretations, his Oedipus complex and others, seem to both of us too narrow. To those interested not only in the scientific but also in the spiritual approaches, they seem only part of the story. There are astrology and medieval alchemy and the whole world of Eastern religions to consider.”

She nodded and paused to consider her words. “And Dr. James has a deep interest in those unscientific sources,” she said very deliberately. “The unconscious speaks through images, I think he would say to you. And I think he would encourage you to explore those images more than the literalness of childhood impulses.”

The young doctor looked as if he had seen a vision. “He really would say that?”

“I believe he would. He has said that he finds you gifted in recognizing the full wonder of the unconscious mind.” She paused, giving thought to what she just said. “Yes, that is it. He would suggest that you pay more attention to the signs of the unconscious mind that emerge in all cultures.” Later, she would wonder where the words had come from, but she was not unhappy that she had said them.

“Dr. James has sent quite a representative,” Jung said. “We must discuss these matters further.”

“Yes,” she said suddenly, looking up, and quickly moved to rise, “but not now. Now we need to return to the camp. The others will worry.” She held up her hand. “We would not want your hosts to think that I had lost you in the wilds.”

“I certainly would not,” the Swiss doctor said with enthusiasm, rising to his feet and helping her to hers. “But at your pace, we will be back in no time.”

And when they arrived at the compound at least one of the elder Putnams remarked upon their late return.

“We were about to send out a search patrol,” he said.

“Oh, that was not necessary,” Eleanor Burden said with an unapologetic enthusiasm, smiling and keeping to herself the rush of affectionate connection she was feeling with this new friend, a connectedness and intellectual intimacy she had not felt for more than ten years, since her return from Vienna.

The next morning, as the two European visitors boarded the two-horse carriage that would take them along the rustic road to the Lake Placid train station, the whole Putnam Camp assembled for the traditional farewell ceremony. Jung stepped toward Eleanor, now joined by her two young daughters, and extended his hand. “Thank you for what will remain in my mind as a thoroughly delightful afternoon, an important one.”

She held out her hand and took his. “I too shall cherish it.”

“We shared an idyll, the romantic poets would say.”

“We did indeed.” And she looked up into his fierce blue eyes. “I enjoyed it immensely.”

“There will be more opportunities for such conversations,” he said.

“That is my hope also,” Eleanor said.

As the carriage pulled away and the Putnam family group began to sing its farewell, as was the long-standing tradition of the camp, the children threw crab apples, the Adirondack sign of affection and respect, Freud wrote later in a letter home. Jung looked back at Eleanor and smiled warmly. And thus in that moment, wordlessly, the covenant of a lifetime was sealed. Shortly after that, when Jung had returned to Zurich, the letters began with an immediate intimacy and affection, and the deep friendship became manifest.

She did not know at that time the important role this new friendship would play in what was to come.

A Companion of the Soul

S
he finally shared with William James the whole story. He had been in increasingly ill health, the moments of incapacitation due to angina a great concern to those around him. During the 1909 Clark University visit of Freud and Jung, it was clear to all participants that William James had great interest in the themes of the conference, but was unable to participate fully because of ill health.

It was a year later, early in 1910, the year of Arnauld Esterhazy’s entry into Boston and life at St. Gregory’s School, that Eleanor held her fateful meeting. William James was sitting up on the sun porch of his Cambridge house, with a blanket enfolding his lap. “Oh, my dear,” he said as Eleanor approached and kissed him on the cheek. “I have not much energy this morning, I fear,” he added, excusing his not rising to greet her.

“You look fit and ready for the day,” she said with a burst of her usual enthusiasm, but she knew she was convincing no one. He looked weakened and tired, and Eleanor had been filled recently with the dread that she might soon lose him. “And you are traveling to Europe?”