“The Jungian Thing, Sir”
In
one of filmmaker Stanley Kubrick’s many meditations on
war and violence, Full Metal Jacket captures the full absurdity
and horror of war. One of Kubrick’s trademark devices employed
to illuminate the irrational elements of humanity was seen in a
particularly dark brand of satire, typically comprised of the juxtaposing
of the reasonable and rational elements of humanity pitted against
the darker, more mysterious, and cruel facets of humanity. Kubrick’s
penetrating wit not only amplified the darker and shadowy aspects
of humanity but, through contrasting the dark side with our more
reasonable or elevated natures, Kubrick often shocked us into just
how irrational and absurd we can be at times. This penetrating
example from Full Metal Jacket shows Kubrick’s playful, dark
satire at work:
Colonel: Marine, what is that button on your body armor?
Joker (as portrayed by Matthew Modine): A peace symbol, sir.
Colonel: Where did you get it?
Joker: I don’t remember, sir.
Colonel: What is that you’ve got written on your helmet?
Joker: “Born to Kill,” sir.
Colonel: You write “Born to Kill” on your helmet, and you wear
a
peace button. What’s that supposed to be, some kind of sick
joke?
Joker: I think I was trying to suggest something about the duality of
man, sir.
Colonel: The what?
Joker: The duality of man, the Jungian thing, sir.
In
the midst of war, private Joker has both the courage and somewhat
naïve audacity to comment on the absurd
nature of humanity, displaying symbols that contrast the lower
and higher nature of
the human condition. The colonel, symbolizing a one-sided yet seasoned
warrior, neither displays the patience nor reflectiveness to comprehend
the commentary by the upstart private.
Private
Joker suggests to the colonel that he is commenting on the dual
nature of man, unpacking with hesitation
the ironic juxtaposition
of signs on his uniform. The duality of human nature is found all
around us, in gender, in socio-economic class, in temperament,
in age, and in vocation. However, private Joker was commenting
on what might be considered the ultimate duality—the clash
between spirit and nature, the division between our higher and
lower selves, the split between our inner angels and our demons.
When juxtaposed, they do elicit an impossible enigma and irresolvable
riddle: how can it be that human nature has the capacity to touch
something transcendent and divine while also being responsible
for the most murderous aggression, the most heinous atrocities,
and the most despicable violations against reason?
In
astrology, this dichotomy is brilliantly illuminated through
the pairing of Neptune and Pluto, the two outer planets
that capture
this ultimate dualism in human nature. In a stunning manner, the
planetary archetypes capture fundamental dualities as one progresses
through the solar system. That is, the sequence of planetary symbols,
from the Sun to the outermost planet, Pluto, form natural dichotomies
reflective of the tensions inherent within being human. The Sun
and Moon symbolize the most personal and individual response to
one’s striving, egoic will, typically identified as masculine
in nature, to the more subjective, relational, and nurturing tendencies
in one’s self, symbolized by the feminine Moon. This type
of dichotomy is stretched throughout the solar system until one
finally arrives at Neptune and Pluto.
Private
Joker’s juxtaposition of “born to kill” and
the peace symbol represent the Pluto-Neptune polarity. Pluto is
often affiliated with nature; however, that connection can often
be misleading, for what do we mean by nature? In this instance,
we do not mean natural, as in organic, or nature, as in taking
a hike in the wilderness. Rather, “nature,” in the
manner that is connected with Pluto, connects us to the instinctual,
the primal, the animalistic. Pluto symbolizes the part of nature
that is evolutionary in trajectory, yet this trajectory has a peculiar
quality to it. In order for evolution to advance, old forms do
not simply wither away or graciously allow for a new form to evolve.
Instead, this advance is chaotic, destructive, extreme, and unyielding.
Pluto is often associated with the big three: sex, death, and transformation,
that is, the churning wheels of evolution that keep the entire
show of life going. Like an unrelenting, driving mulching machine,
Pluto keeps the whole show of life evolving onward—unapologetically
and without remorse. All of us are soldiers like private Joker, “born
to kill;” at the root of our beings is found a great impetus
toward creation and destruction that impels the whole of humanity.
Freud,
as highly attuned to this particular dimension of the human psyche
as he was, identified the typical ways in
which we manage
and cope with this extraordinary force in our lives, for if we
were to be in touch and act out this facet of the psyche at all
times, life would simply be a horrific, barbaric terror show where
the will to dominate and destroy would reign entirely supreme.
Freud’s defense mechanisms typically demonstrate how we supervise
the constant push that is symbolized by the astrological Pluto:
repression, intellectualization, reaction formation, and omnipotent
control all represent strategies of dealing with the constant bombardment
of the Plutonic element in the individual psyche.
Pluto
puts the stiletto in the high heel. Pluto puts the distortion
and power in the amplified rock guitar. Pluto
compels greater and
more sophisticated technology in the art of war. Pluto places the
scintillating reptilian undertones in the enunciation of the word, “sex.” Pluto
is often a highly-charged, dynamic, and powerful territory; however,
much of its power is derived from its implicit force as much as
it is from the power that is given to it by collective repression
and taboos, for it is when the force is tucked and shoved deeper
into the recesses of the collective unconscious that it is given
even greater and more power.
We
might say that Neptune represents an entirely different side
of nature. Neptune is our ability to connect with
something far
greater than ourselves through the identification of something
infinite, cosmic, or transcendental. Thus, Neptune can also connote “nature” but
in the sense of connecting with everything around ourselves—a
deeply spiritual communion with the movement of spirit through
meditation, prayer, or divine offering. Thus, “nature,” in
the Neptunian realm is more the province of a nature mystic.
Kubrick’s Joker displayed the Neptunian dimension through
his peace symbol—a highly emotional icon that represents
our highest dreams, a return to an ideal condition, and a world
of beauty, joy, and unity. The Neptunian subpersonality may be
the poet in a harsh and cruel world, the dreamer in a pragmatic
and cold reality, or the hopeless romantic in a world that demands
realistic expectations. However, the Neptunian dimension is also
a symbol that is extraordinarily evocative and powerful in its
own right. Accessed primarily through the use of the human imagination,
Neptune allows us to revision our entire world and continually
replenishes the world through meaning. Neptune represents a connection
to a divine source, and the development of higher capacities of
human being. Grounding and forging the Neptunian dimension into
this reality evokes the most profoundly emotional and blissful
responses in our lives.
Pluto
and Neptune, then, symbolize the foundational, or ultimate, dichotomy
in humanity. Although we may trivialize
or make light
of this eternal dilemma through cartoons depicting angels and devils
upon our shoulders, during major Pluto and Neptune transits, we
no longer see the trivialities of this fundamental dichotomy—they
become very, very real. From transiting Neptune’s perspective,
the dark of the world is merely a product of wrong thought, the
lower rungs of consciousness that need to be redeemed. From transiting
Pluto’s perspective, Neptune’s visions and ideals are
hopelessly naïve, illusory, and unfounded. Neither position
is correct in isolation but rather represents two sides of the
most profound dichotomy interwoven into the evolutionary journey.
Mysterium
Tremendum et Fascinans: The Fusion of Neptune and Pluto
In
order to more fully comprehend the fundamental archetypal symbolism
of Neptune and Pluto, it is important to
understand the work of
religious scholar, Rudolf Otto. More than conduct dry and analytical
research in religion, Otto’s pioneering contributions involve
the more subjective, psychological, and experiential aspects of
religion. Otto employed the term, “numinous” to capture
the psychological dimensions of religious experience. For Otto,
a numinous experience was a highly charged, nonrational subjective
state. Different than our conceptual and rational understanding
of God or the holy, a numinous experience is more direct, more
visceral, and more subjective.
Otto was somewhat of a cartographer of the religious experience.
He suggested that a numinous experience must be powerful, gripping,
and inspiring. A numinous experience might be what is currently
called a transpersonal experience, for typically experiences that
are numinous in quality put our individual and mundane lives up
against that which is profoundly greater, wholly different, and
beyond typical experience. Thus, numinous experiences are transpersonal
in the sense that they evoke qualities that are significantly beyond
and greater than our daily experience of life. Beyond this, Otto
suggested that numinous experiences are typically evocative of
something that is mysterious, tremendous, and fascinating, captured
in the Latin phrase, Mysterium Tremendum et Fascinans. In the grip
of a numinous, or transpersonal experience, our individual ego
may feel dwarfed by something that is so profoundly greater and
inspiring that the experience of ourselves and the world henceforth
is irrevocably changed.
As
transpersonal planets, Neptune and Pluto represent dimensions
of the numinous experience. As the final gatekeepers
into the unknown
and the unknowable, Neptune and Pluto are archetypes that give
us a glimpse into something that we might call god, the divine,
or spirit. As the archetypes themselves cannot be fully understood
and known, they can be experienced, and a combination of Neptune
and Pluto in experiential terms is mysterious, fascinating, and
tremendous. Taken as a fusion, Neptune and Pluto can bring individuals
and societies in touch with something much more profound and, indeed,
numinous than one’s daily experience.
Only
once in the last five hundred years have Neptune and Pluto formed
a conjunction in the solar system. Due to the
arduously
slow movements of these planets, a conjunction between these planets
is a rare event. Given an orb of approximately twelve to fifteen
degrees, Neptune and Pluto formed a conjunction for twenty years,
from 1882 to 1902. Cultural historians often note that the period
from roughly 1880 to 1914 was a time of remarkable and rapid change
in Western societies; it was the birth of Modernism. Undermining
and subversive and yet creative and triumphant, this roughly thirty-five-year
span forged an entirely new set of circumstances for cultures on
either side of the Atlantic. Regardless of what facet of cultural
history one focuses on—economic, political, artistic, intellectual,
or social—this time period was one of extreme and dynamic
change—much greater than our own time. From an astrological
perspective, this period was so evolutionary and highly dynamic
because three major outerplanetary alignments—a Neptune-Pluto
conjunction, a Uranus-Pluto opposition, and a Uranus-Neptune opposition—all
occurred in quick, overlapping succession. These powerful alignments
correlated precisely with the exciting and tremendous spirit of
the times.(1)
If
concentrating solely on the conjunction of Pluto and Neptune,
we can see that both the prevailing atmosphere,
or zeitgeist, and
the legacy of the last two decades of the nineteenth century were
thoroughly a blending of the archetypes of Pluto and Neptune. It
was as if the culture at this time was thoroughly infused with
a sense of the numinous, fascinated and in awe of the fundamental
mystery of life. As in the case of all planetary conjunctions,
the archetypes tend ignite each other’s meanings and dimensions
in potent way, but there is also the sense in which the archetypes
blend together, creating a whole greater than the sum of their
parts. This is certainly the case with the conjunction of Pluto
and Neptune. Given Pluto’s radical and extreme evolutionary
push, it both created and destroyed affiliations with Neptune’s
symbolism: consciousness itself, subjectivity, the sense of the
religious and transcendent, the desire for altered states of consciousness,
imagery and image-making processes of the psyche.
In
a manner that is difficult to express, Neptune may also be conceived
as a collective consciousness—the flotsam and jetsam
of moods, perceptions, atmospheres, and images that permeate our
lived experience. This web of atmosphere that Neptune symbolizes
is given expression primarily through cultural productions: art,
music, fashion, décor, design, and aesthetics. Given this
elusive, yet easily intuited, cultural vapor and collective mist
we might associate with Neptune, during the conjunction of Neptune
and Pluto in the late nineteenth century, Neptune thoroughly enshrouded
Pluto’s symbolism so that the collective mood and cultural
subjectivity was abounding with Pluto’s affiliations: the
erotic, the underworld, the demonic, the taboo, and the debauched.
Thus, during this pivotal time in our collective history, Pluto
was “in the air,” swimming in the subjective experience
of something analogous to the collective imagination. Although
the Plutonian dimension made its presence felt in the collective
at this time, it was nonetheless inflected by (and in some sense
fused with) the archetypal Neptune. Thus, the typically powerful,
obliterating, and tremendous force we affiliate with Pluto was
rarefied and sublimated by Neptune’s ethereal and illusive
manifestations. When Pluto aspects the outer three planets in a
significant way, the collective cultural milieu changes—this
is without question. However, the transformative and destructive
energy associated with Pluto work on levels of consciousness that
are less tangible and less concrete when connected with Neptune.
Hence, the tremendous changes that did occur under this Neptune-Pluto
conjunction touched the collective psyche and collective mood—felt
rather than easily witnessed. (2)
The following represents a small sampling of arbitrary divisions
of culture that were profoundly affected during the Pluto-Neptune
conjunction of 1882—1902.
The Arts:
The
fin de siecle mood of Europe captured the artist at his most
passionate, most inspired, most creative, and most
stirred. If
we assume that it is the artist’s challenge to translate
the zeitgeist for the masses, then the artist living at this time
had quite an extraordinary palette and reservoir from which to
draw. This was the era of the mad artist, so caught up in the excesses,
ecstasy, and fanaticism of the times that it literally drove many
individuals over the edge. One need only think of the disturbed
act of Van Gogh cutting off his ear, Toulouse-Lautrec’s institutionalization
for alcoholism, the troubled and stormy romance between Rodin and
Camille Claudel, and the general debauched bohemianism that seized
artists, musicians, and poets across continental Europe at this
time.
Specifically
within painting, we can observe the Neptune-Pluto gestalt in
at least three ways: a hyper-intensification
of image
through color and symbolism; the concentration upon the themes
of primitivism, sex, death, and decay; and the general breakdown
of formalized rules in art. Without any sort of education in art
history whatsoever, anyone who surveys painting of the last two
decades of the nineteenth century will respond with the reaction
that colors had a more vivid, intense, and primary look to them.
One must only conjure up the evocations of Van Gogh’s landscapes,
Rousseau’s folk art, or Munch’s early expressionism
to realize that the employment of color was undeniably intensified
at this point in history, radically so. Without much sophisticated
analysis, we can simply observe that on an archetypal level, this
is due to Pluto driving the Neptunian association with image to
an extreme degree. With tremendous, intense force, Pluto was pushing
on Neptune’s archetypal dominants to a heightened and incredible
degree. Moreover, mythology and symbol predominated the arts at
this time, from the love of Greco-Roman mythology to the employment
of fantasy and the sublime. Obviously, the movement of symbolism
which rose to prominence at this time was overtly suggestive of
this trend.
The
vivification of color and symbol at this time is indicative of
Pluto engaging the realm of Neptune; however,
we can observe
how Plutonian themes were thoroughly mythologized and rendered
sublime in the subjective field of collective experience, ensconced
within Neptune’s archetypal matrix. Four of Pluto’s
archetypal associations—primitivism (or primalism), sex,
death, and decadence—appeared to permeate artistic themes
at this time. Through the art of Gauguin and Rousseau, there was
a repeated motif of mythologizing the primitive and primal aspects
of our nature. With Gauguin’s near-obsession with portraying
Tahitian natives and Rousseau’s concentration on nature and
wildness, these artists typified a general trend at this time to
recover the archaic, to delve deeply into the primordial past.
Although art historian Carol Strickland reserved the term “jungles
of the imagination” strictly for Rousseau, the term could
be applied to any number of artists working during this period
in history. (3) More than one archetype influencing another, in
the case of the primitivism that rose at this time, we observe
a clear case of the planetary symbolism fusing together as one,
forming a true gestalt. For, as illustrated in the case of Gauguin
and Rousseau, their art represented a synthesis of an idealized,
if not naïve, return to innocence merged with the primal and
archaic. For both artists, the state of nature symbolized a long
lost pristine state, a condition of purity and beauty. Thus, we
see in these artists, the expression of synthesizing the manifestations
of Pluto and Neptune as one. In this instance, Neptune has stripped
the primal condition, as expressed by Pluto, of all its terror,
barbarism, and territorial imperative and instead has infused this
state with a sort of sentimental image of paradise.
We
can observe more unrefined expressions of the Plutonic at this
time through the preoccupation of sex and death.
As dual sides
of eros, sex and death are the most identifiable expressions of
Pluto, and certainly during the end of the 19th century, these
themes dominated the arts. Going beyond the rather staid and refined
aesthetics of the impressionists, the post-impressionists broke
down the taboos of expressions of nudity and sexuality and portrayed
this arena with a greater frankness and starkness than ever before
in art history. Lacking prudishness or formalized stylization,
the nude and sexuality at this time was given a much more honest,
if not graphic, appraisal. Death, too, was not only a major motif
in art at this time, but portrayed in a highly mythologized way.
In artists such as James Ensor and Gustav Klimt, death received
a great priority. Not so much a condition as an archetypal figure,
death was treated as a something mysterious, a guardian between
worlds. Finally, we can see in art a trend toward the decadent.
With both the blurring of boundaries between high and low art,
due, in part to increasingly sophisticated technology of reproduction,
and the extraordinary rise of bohemianism in the large cities of
Europe—London, Paris, Vienna, and Berlin—art, either
lamentably or thankfully, became increasingly more decadent, more
unrestrained, and more reflective of the workings of the cultural
underground and underworld. Perhaps the prime exemplar of this
trend is to be found in Toulese-Latrec, whose documentation of
the Parisian bohemian life captured the spirit of the times in
the urban centers of Europe.
Popular Culture:
If Toulese-Latrec was as much a documentarian as artist, then
his works relay information about fin de siecle Western society;
it was becoming an age of decadence. As cities grew, economies
expanded, and as money became increasingly more available to the
many, a culture rose to challenge the mores of the Victorian bourgeoisie
that so dominated Europe in much of the nineteenth century. An
increasing interest and tolerance in the erotic and in drugs was
becoming noticeable in the middle classes. Some argued that this
was signaling the breakdown of Western society. Others assumed
that a restrictive prohibition on the fundamental aspects of human
nature was finally relaxing. In either case, an ambiance of Dionysius
was to rule supreme over the cultural capitals of Europe in the
last two decades of the nineteenth century.
Cultural
disintegration and breakdown could also be seen in the rise of
print advertising. The craze created over
printed materials,
particularly the poster, was a signaling to many of the complete
renaissance of image; this period truly characterized the birth
of popular image-making. With Art Nouveau flourishing, poster dealerships
rising in influence, and with the public’s fervor for poster
shows, image—Neptune’s archetypal imprint in culture—became
an obsession—Pluto’s drive at work. Even more outstanding,
the last two decades of the nineteenth century witnessed the beginning
of cinema. The moving image was an entirely new way in which the
world was to be conceived, perceived, and comprehended. As the
Neptune-Pluto conjunction of the late 1300’s saw the birth
of perspective in art, this previous Neptune-Pluto conjunction
was no less phenomenal, correlating with a tremendously evolutionary
advance in how the world was to honor its imagination.
The
gothic novel, or the interest in gothic themes, which petered
out by the 1840’s in Europe made an extraordinary resurgence
again by the 1880’s. Particularly in Great Britain, popular
culture thirsted for material that synthesized the fantastic and
otherworldly—facets of Neptune—with the dark and erotic,
obvious characteristics of Pluto. Often with an emphasis on the
resurrection of mythological figures, the high gothic subcultures
in the late nineteenth century had an insatiable desire for the
dark and mysterious in theater and novels. Popular culture’s
interest in the gothic and occult novel culminated in the publication
of Bram Stocker’s Dracula. Second only to the Christian bible
in terms of overall sales, Dracula’s influence on popular
culture cannot be underestimated. (4) In Dracula, we have the archetypal
figure of the romantic seducer, both extraordinarily erotic, hypnotic,
and powerful but simultaneously wounded, repulsive, and pathologically
lecherous.
The Rise of the Unconscious:
Cultural
historians often remark that William James, the pre-eminent American
psychologist at the turn of the twentieth
century, was
a psychologist that wrote and thought more like a novelist. Interestingly,
historians continue, James’s brother, Henry, the acclaimed
novelist, wrote and observed things psychologically. With the James
brothers, we see a trend that was broadly occurring at the end
of the nineteenth century: novelists and writers were becoming
more psychologically sophisticated as the new science of psychology
was thoroughly steeped with mythological, literary, and romantic
themes. This parallelism between the James brothers is even more
heightened in the figures of Freud and Arthur Schnitzler, the famous
Austrian novelist. Contemporaries in Vienna and acute observers
of their social milieu, Freud and Schnitzler came to radically
similar conclusions about the human condition—only their
titles of psychologist and writer separated these men.
The
James brothers, Freud, and Schnitzler were individuals that tapped
into a trend that was occurring at this
time: the deep waters
of the non-rational and the collective unconscious were at high
tide in the late nineteenth century. We can assume Pluto and Neptune
to be the two main planetary archetypes associated with the collective
unconscious. Neptune, representing the world of myth, dream, streams
of consciousness, and subjective moods encapsulates what might
we called the symbolic function of the unconscious. Pluto, on the
other hand, represents the repressed, sexual, aggressive, and violent
aspects of the unconscious, what might be called the primary or
primal functions of the unconscious. Forming a conjunction in the
nineteenth century, Pluto and Neptune deeply activated each others’ potentials;
the two sides of the collective unconscious were potently engaged.
This
extreme activation of the collective unconscious created something
of a disturbance or free-floating anxiety in
the mood
of the times. With Pluto’s threatening, libidinous, and violent
potentials floating around in the images and subjective experience
of the collective psyche, a difficult pessimism, anxiety, and sense
of decay was in the air at the time. As a picture is worth a thousand
words, Edvard Munch’s The Scream conveyed the generalized
disturbance of the time. Pluto’s manifestation was to be
most easily discernible in the Neptunian dimension—the “collective
ether.” A fog of threat vaporized at this time.
The
bourgeois answer to the freeform perturbance of the time was
the same as always—the unexamined life.
However, the artists, novelists, and thinkers went deep into
the dimensions available
to them at this time to understand what was truly going on at this
point in history. There probings led to the discovery of the unconscious.
Freud,
standing on the achievements of Mesmer, Charcot, Janet, and others,
built the foundations of his psychology
in the last
two decades of the nineteenth century. Immersed in the collective
spirit informed by the Neptune-Pluto conjunction, Freud’s
investigations were certainly emblematic of the symbolism and synthesis
of these planetary archetypes. In a diary entry in late 1883, we
see first glimmerings that would inform all of Freud’s psychology.
As he wrote, “There is a psychology of the common man that
is rather different from ours.” A “rabble,” he
would call, to the common man that gave way to a spontaneity and
directness that his bourgeois class had learned to control. (5)
Freud was beginning to notice that the primal, sexual, and aggressive
urges in humanity had been thoroughly repressed through the civilizing
process. Moreover, the main avenue of exploring and recovering
the energy and vitality of this aggressive repository, or Id, was
through the investigating of subjective experience—dreams,
hypnosis, and free association, for example. The results of his
probing analysis bore fruit in his The Interpretation of Dreams,
published at the dawn of the twentieth century in 1900. Its hiighly
different than this, you freak!!
Conclusion:
The
late nineteenth century displayed the power and scope of the
collaboration of the planetary archetypes of
Neptune and Pluto,
the great carriers of mystery and the unknowable beyond. A conjunction
of these two planets is a rare occurrence, something that happens
along the order of every five hundred years. A conjunction is a
synthesizing of two archetypes, creating a pattern greater than
the sum of its parts. Thus, a conjunction between Pluto and Neptune
describes a set of experiences and manifestations different from
the manifestation of their constituent parts. The conjunction of
the late nineteenth century was a rare time and represented a set
of cultural circumstances that were unique. Under more prosaic
times, it is usually more apt to think of Pluto and Neptune as
representing parts of the psyche that are radically different in
nature—the ultimate in paradox. Perhaps returning to Kubrick
can illuminate these divergent archetypes. Full Metal Jacket concludes
with a scene of war, chaos, and utter destruction. Soldiers march
along with an apocalyptic background as their setting, and yet,
as the young men stride amongst ruins, they sing a song from their
youth, the “Mickey Mouse Club” themesong. Kubrick begins
and ends with the “duality of man,” a seemingly insolvable
paradox that can never be fully understood or fully resolved.
(1) A Saturn-Pluto conjunction, occurring at the outbreak of World
War One stopped the trajectory of evolutionary advance at this
time. We can contrast this with our own time when the Saturn-Pluto
opposition of 2001-2003 quite profoundly stopped the evolutionary
advances that were occurring in society during the Uranus-Neptune
conjunction, spanning the late 1980’s and 1990’s.
(2)
Pluto’s archetypal power is more easily
observed when it makes aspects to either Uranus and Saturn.
(3) Strickland, Carol. The
Annotated Mona Lisa. 1992. Kansas City:
Andrews and McMeel, 124.
(4)
Stocker’s research into Dracula began in 1890. At this
time, the Pluto-Neptune conjunction at approximately eight degrees
Gemini opposed Stocker’s Mercury at eight degrees Sagittarius.
(5)
Gay, Peter. Schnitzler’s Century. 2002.
New York: W.W. Norton, 26.
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