As an offshoot of our recent discussion in "
a fairytale discussion" (focusing on "Beauty and the Beast") I thought it might be interesting to discuss interpretive techniques more generally. Outside of Jungian and Freudian circles, I don't think the interpretation of fairytales is given much emphasis or respect. It is perfectly legitimate to ask if it is truly possible to interpret a fairytale . . . or if fairytales have any inherent meanings that can be deduced.
Is the interpretation of fairytales merely projection or "creative writing"? Do fairytale texts actually "innate" have subtexts or meanings? In our postmodern/poststructuralist age of literary theory, suggesting as much is bound to get you sent to the front of the line for a lashing . . . at least if you let your opinion be known in a university setting. But contemporary prejudices about "meaning" aside, there are notably very few rules and givens in fairytale interpretation.
As we have seen, even among Jungians there is much to debate.
Without delving into any of my revisionist theories, I would like to suggest a few basics . . . and I hope others will both add to and correct/challenge these as well as elaborate on their own general theories. I've done a pretty healthy amount of fairytale (and other literary text) interpretation . . . devoting pretty much all of the many papers I wrote on literature, film, and folktales while I was in college to some variation of Jungian interpretation (closing in on 20 years of devoted Jungian interpreting now). I also had the good fortune of being able to take three classes from a certified Jungian analyst in which we were able to practice such interpretations (plus one independent study in which I gave a Jungian treatment to Homer's
Odyssey . . . and another in which I interpreted and analyzed Michael Ondaatje's
The English Patient). I've always enjoyed such interpretation immensely and have devoted myself to refining my skills as much as I could.
But, all learning, practice, and refinement aside, the interpretation of fairytales is, in my opinion, something one either has a knack for or doesn't. That is, it's an intuitive enterprise where the "most buff" pattern-recognizers have the most success. It is not a method that can be perfected by applying a theory. Very much like dream interpretation, one has to allow the text to say what it "means". One cannot ever say what the text means based on some preconceived theory or intellectualization.
My own interpretive (and psychic structure) theories are the product of analyzing and contemplating texts (literature, art, dreams, etc.). I have always taken these texts as my teachers . . . and my disagreement with Jung and other Jungians on various subjects is entirely born out of what (I feel) these texts have taught me (as opposed to some outside, competing intellectual ideology I bring to Jungian thought). So, when you hear me throwing around neologisms or committing various Jungian heresies, my apostasies came only after I could not work out discrepancies between more conventional Jungian theories and the logic of the texts I was most interested in.
I don't mean to suggest that there is NO theory in fairytale interpretation . . . and certainly, no one who
lacks a strong understanding of psychic dynamics will be able to interpret fairytales very well. A basic principle of interpretive theory is to find parallels between characters in fairytales and psychic structures (like ego, Self, shadow, animi, and other archetypes). This is, of course, easier said than done. One has to know how the ego or the animi or the Self "behave" in order to figure out which characters in the story reflect these phenomena. In my opinion, most of the difficulty Jungians face in the attempt to interpret fairytales comes from an inadequate understanding of the corresponding psychic personages and their typical behavior patterns. For instance, since the conventional Jungian theory of the animus is so limited and skewed toward the negative, Jungians, as a rule (with only very few exceptions) do a terrible job at interpreting animus tales.
They fare much better with anim
a stories (as the anima is better accepted and understood by Jungians than the animus is). What we see in any interpretation are roadblocks set up by any theoretical prejudice or personal complex we might carry into the interpretation. If our theoretical prejudice insists that all animus figures are dark, dangerous, and dysfunctional portrayals of masculinity in a woman, then we will be less capable of seeing how various stories completely reject such characterizations. We will apply the Procrustean bed . . . just as Freudians have often hacked up fairytales with their reductive sexual/Oedipal theories.
My suggestion (which is of course debatable), is that we follow the text at all costs. Any interpretation that goes outside the text to psychologize the characters is in great danger of projection and misinterpretation. I'm not advocating an utter lack of psychologization, but I do think that these psychologizations should come only when the text gives us no direct data with which to work . . . and should only be posited with full admission of their speculative natures. Perhaps this is a minor heresy among Jungians, because the idea of "amplification" (using similar outside texts to elaborate an interpretation) is not only widely embraced in our community, it is perhaps overused to the point of abuse.
Much as Jung said of dreams, I feel that fairytales pretty much just say what they mean, even on a psychological/interpretive level. The reason one CAN interpret fairytales psychologically is that the logic of fairytales (which is, by the way, an extremely strict and predictable logic . . . as is well excepted by folklorists, I think) is absolutely the logic of psychodynamics. This isn't to say that fairytale structure and logic don't also parallel other logics (say, sociopolitical). I only mean to say that the logic of fairytales and the logic of psychodynamics (where individuation, especially, is involved) are absolutely equivalent. And so it is no surprise that fairytales are often anonymous and are the product of many authors over many generations. Fairytales texts (in all their many variations) evolve a bit like . . . memes! (There you go, Kafiri,
that meme's for you!). Except there is a clearer process (in my opinion) of "natural selection".
The themes, characters, and events that resonate most with our psyches are selected for (by the "meme machines" that hear, remember, and retell the stories). It's not a perfect process, and this is why so many variations of each tale can be found. But generally, certain themes are remembered and have "numinousness" for us, because they are archetypal and have a way of reflecting aspects of human psychology that are universal (and instinctual). Think of it like you think of films today. Everyone's a critic, as the saying goes . . . but in the oral history of fairytales, not only is everyone a critic, but everyone's a potential author, too.
Also worth noting is that, often, the "definitive versions" of fairytales are the ones that were collected and spruced up by pretty accomplished writers and storytellers. This means that there is some chance that these authors stamped the tales to some degree with their own complexes. But it is also just as possible that these storytellers were the ones that had the special insight into these stories' themes and were able to draw out all of the partially developed aspects of the tale into more tangible forms. This is a kind of artistry that is not often well-recognized . . . but it's one I have a lot of respect for. After all, such storytellers are a precedent to Jungian interpreters. They are logicians of the psyche.
A very common rule of thumb in fairytale interpretation is to start by choosing the "ego character". This is a pretty solid idea and it parallels dream work, in which it is very clear that the ego plays some kind of central role (or is attached to some kind of protagonist). But there are hazards to watch for even on this wide road. For instance, in fairytales, the "ego character" is usually heroic. We need to ask ourselves if the hero and the ego are really the same thing . . . and we have to ask this on a case by case basis. Also, a typical compliment of the ego character identification is the assumption that all the other characters are Other . . . usually archetypes. This assumption is based in the logic that an ego identity is singular . . . a conscious standpoint.
But what we know from the basic findings of any depth psychology is that the ego's singularity is significantly more illusory than it seems. As Jung himself noted, the psyche can be seen as made up of "splinter psyches" or complexes . . . and as neuroscientists and cognitive psychologists now believe, there is no definite, centralized self in human psychology. Less theoretically, we can note a common phenomenon of dreams that shows us multiplicity in ego characters. There is a conventional prejudice in many Jungians that the dream ego (like the illusion of the waking ego) is singular, and that any other "ego-like" characters in a dream are shadow figures or other archetypes. I believe this is a theoretical prejudice in some Jungians based on the privileging of a solitary ego (a prejudice of conscious egoic perspective). I have frequently observed in dream work that a multiplicity of ego-like characters can easily be seen as a divvying up of not entirely compatible attitudes, all of which are held simultaneously in consciousness. If we are "of three different minds" on a particular life situation, dreaming of that situation is likely to show us three different personages, each with its own "mind" or attitude. Probably, we will identify more with one than with the others . . . and this will be the dream ego character. But the other characters are also reflections of consciously held attitudes.
I merely suggest that we keep our eyes (and our minds) open to this possibility in fairytales, as well.
Most fairytales are hero stories (although many others are jokes and slurs or moral lessons, but these are less popular today). It is conventional in Jungian thinking to see an individuation theme wherever a heroic character is found. I actually agree with this attitude entirely . . . and have noted that many Jungians have fallen away from seeing these heroic fairytales as individuation stories. Personally, I think this falling away leads to a great deal of abstraction, unnecessary psychologizing, and muddiness in interpretation. I see no logical reason to deviate from the hero=individuation story equation. In fact, I have become increasingly suspicious that the balking at this equation so common among Jungians today is itself complex-related. That is, there is some kind of fear and anxiety surrounding the hero archetype in Jungian thinking, a resistance that seeks to pathologize the hero, but in an illogical and excessive manner.
I see no
textual basis whatsoever for such interpretations (but I suspect some of my fellows on this site will disagree). Here, I will simply refer back to the principle of interpretation I advocate: the fairytale says precisely what it means. If the tale says the protagonist is brave or clever or faithful or patient or empathetic, etc. . . . than that is precisely what he or she is. I don't think we should bring outside feelings and projections about "The Hero" into the interpretation of fairytales. These tales will tell us what heroism means as far as the story (and its logic) is concerned.
Good fairytale interpretation is really just translation of one language into another . . . and any good translation devotes itself to as accurate a representation of the original text as is possible (considering the differences in the two languages). So, even if we say a specific character is an animus or a hero, we are not really "interpreting" or projecting into the fairytales language a preexisting concept from our psychological language. We are merely saying that, in psychological language, the term animus or the term hero is the most accurate translation of the "Jack" or "Ivan" or "Beauty" or "Cinderella" or "Beast" of the fairytale's language. But as I mentioned above (and this would be debated by most non-Jungians), the internal or subtextual "grammar" of fairytales
is psychological . . . so translation into more technical/scientific psychological language is not one in which translation errors are unavoidably abundant. We are talking Latin to Italian, not Egyptian Hieroglyphics to Humpback Whale.
Please feel free to disagree with anything I wrote if you are so inclined. And please let us know some of the things you've learned or come to suspect based on your own work with fairytale texts.
Best,
Matt