Suffering as a ‘Stern but Well-meaning Tutor’
Archetypal examples of Neurotic, Productive and Sacrificial Suffering
991502502 – Jung and Humanism – Ann Yeoman
Jake Hirsch-Allen – April 30th, 2003
1
To suffer is to feel pain, to learn, to die, to teach, to be reborn. Suffering is one of
humankind’s most poignant and universal sensations. Without it, life is uninteresting and
unproductive. With it, the monotony of existence can be objectified by pain and agony. We
can be enlightened by the distinct state of mind and emotion induced by suffering or rent
apart by the stress of its dissimilarity from our everyday lives. For Carl Gustav Jung,
suffering was the product of the tension that opposing influences produce on our minds. It
was essential and enlightening, inescapable and at times destructive:
Life, being an energic process, needs the opposites, for without opposition there is, as we
know, no energy. Good and evil are simply the moral aspects of this natural polarity. The
fact that we have to feel this polarity so excruciatingly makes human existence all the more
complicated. Yet the suffering that necessarily attaches to life cannot be evaded.1
Suffering can be as essential to growth as it is tied to death. While painful, it allows for
rebirth and revitalization, often endowing the sufferer with a new perspective. Jung
described two types of suffering: a productive, enlightening form and a neurotic, destructive
form.2 The positive or productive type he called “real” suffering while negative suffering was
aptly named neurotic suffering. Examining these forms reveals the extremes of our psyche,
our ability to grow as human beings and, remarkably, our ability to help others through our
pain. The following is an analysis of suffering itself and a description of several productive
ways to respond to it.
Suffering manifests itself in psychological, corporeal and symbolic forms and is
evident throughout our history and culture. Mythic literature and art include many examples
of individuals whose suffering has defined our current morality and ideology. From the
Greeks to the Jews and from the Christians to the Elizabethans, all civilizations have
attempted to describe and understand the causes of their communal and individual suffering.
1
2
C. G. Jung, The Collected Works of C.G. Jung, vol. 11 (New York: Pantheon, 1959) 197.
Jung vol. 17 p 78.
2
In order to analyze suffering in all its diversity, I will categorize and reduce it to its essential
forms. These forms, or archetypes,3 forever present in our collective unconscious, are
manifested in a variety of ways in our own lives.
Examples, particularly in reference to emotions and processes, are inherently more
accessible than theories. As a result, prototypical sufferers will illustrate three archetypes
founded on Jung’s typology and psychology of the human psyche. Each illustration, like
Jacoby’s fairytales, is
among those literary works unfolding a wealth of meaning that can never be fully formulated
by thought and capable of generating representative or symbolic meaning that is applicable
to other life situations, periods, outlooks…In other words, they have something to say about
the mystery of being human, which can, when needed, be approximately deciphered and
formulated.4
As exemplars of three suffering archetypes, I will use these illustrations to bring the
theoretical forms to life and to demonstrate productive approaches for coping with and
learning from our own suffering.5
3
The Jungian analyst Mario Jacoby’s explanation of the archetypes underlying fantasy can be generalized to include those
which typify suffering: “At the root of all fantasizing must lie a species-typical human potentiality that brings about and, in
one way or another, organizes our fantasies, which usually appear to our conscious mind to be a function of our personal
experiences.” (see below) Thus we each experience personal illustrations of archetypal suffering, in one form or another,
without necessarily exemplifying any given archetype.
4
Mario Jacoby, “C.G. Jung’s View of Fairy Tale Interpretation,” Witches, Ogres and the Devil’s Daughter: Encounters with
Evil in Fairy Tales (New York: Random House, 1992) 8.
5
No two humans suffer identically just as no two characters face the same predicaments. Suffering is therefore both
intensely personal and universal. Emotions and psychological processes, like colours, must be catalogued subjectively as
their spectrum is infinitely divisible. While remaining in general accordance with Jung’s theory, I will consider the lines
separating the three archetypes of suffering defined in this essay to be supple and permeable. This will create a
continuous transition between the various forms of suffering and allow for its many manifestations. To demonstrate the
smooth and infinite spectrum of causes for, and consequences of, humankind’s suffering, I will use various less
prototypical examples to supplement the exemplary cases. Yet to retain their meaning as representations of eternal
archetypes, the prototypes will remain like buoys, floating amidst an ocean of real-world representations, loosely but
permanently anchored, forever within sight.
3
The first of Jung’s two categories of suffering consists of those sufferers who
succumb to their plight but do not learn or grow from it. These are his ‘neurotic’ sufferers.
The second category consists of those people that Jung defined as ‘productive’ sufferers.
These individuals seek to engage and understand the circumstances surrounding their
anguish and eventually transcend it to lead a more fruitful life. Various processes are
essential in achieving this enlightened state including successful individuation, the
differentiation of the psychic dynamics and the balancing of opposing forces which create
anxiety and contribute to suffering (i.e.: the avoidance of an enantiodromia).
The primary difference between Jung’s two forms is the sufferer’s degree of
consciousness (in the Jungian sense) or insight. The neurotic sufferer never attains conscious
understanding of their plight; she is not able to comprehend the causes and sometimes even
consequences of her illness. In contrast, the sufferer that comes to realize his own faults is
able to grow from the experience and teach others by referring to his odyssey.
Jung did not restrict the neurotic category of suffering to individuals experiencing
neuroses. Instead, it included all sufferers unable to transcend their inner conflict and who
remain unaware of the lessons it can afford. In fact, most archetypal neurotic or tragic
sufferers are not pathological. As is the case for most of Jung’s terminology, ‘neurotic
suffering’ was applied metaphorically. Neurotic suffers are incompletely conscious or have
not achieved full self-realization but are not necessarily diseased.
Likewise, tragic sufferers6 do not have to remain completely ignorant of their
suffering. Tragic heroes frequently undergo an anagnorisis (recognition) after they have
overcome their hubris (blinding pride) but it is always too little and too late; their fates have
6
In order to avoid confusion and taking into account its diverse meanings, I will use the label “Neurotic suffering”
synonymously with “Unconscious”, “Impatient” and “Tragic suffering”. This will hopefully help dispel any literal association
of pathology with this, the first of Jung’s two types of suffering.
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already been sealed. The neurotic or tragic sufferer can achieve some degree of
consciousness but will never escape her neurosis or tragedy and more importantly, she will
be unable to grow or learn from her suffering.
It is important to remember, however, that suffering’s neurotic form is like a disease.
Jung explains, “neurotic suffering is an unconscious fraud [that] has no moral merit, as has
real suffering.”7 The sufferer becomes trapped by her own faults and misfortunes, the victim
instead of the master of her circumstances. Losing all sense of perspective, she is enveloped
by a self-perpetuating nightmare in which external forces capitalize upon personal pitfalls
that in turn aggravate the external problems. The end result is deterioration, either mental or
physical, into a psychosomatic neurosis.
Gregor Samson, in Franz Kafka’s The Metamorphosis, is a stereotypical neurotic
sufferer. Overwhelmed by his extreme self-consciousness, demanding family, unhappy
occupation and lack of self-confidence, Gregor loses the ability to differentiate between the
outside world’s vision of him and his own idea of himself. In this poignant portrayal of a
physical manifestation of a neurosis, the protagonist is transformed into an insect.8 The
protagonists of many of Kafka’s novels similarly suffer to the point of death or persecution,
are not redeemed and do not learn from their suffering. Kafka’s personalities are uniformly
characterized by an inability to accept or cope with their fate or place in the world. The
result, in short, is tragic.
Neurotic suffering is generally at the heart of tragedy. Consequently, tragedies of all
sorts are profoundly useful in examining neurotic suffering. Using Campbell’s diagram of a
quest or hero’s adventure depicted as a circle, and applying Aristotle’s definition of tragedy,
7
Jung vol. 7 p 79.
The intensity of Kafka’s stories is linked to his ability to literalize the symbolic and psychological suffering of his
protagonists. His characters’ suffering is depicted in a remarkably stark, uncompromising and uncomplicated form.
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such narratives end without the rebirth and rediscovery necessary for progress. Lacking this
realization, the protagonists suffer painfully and often die or are banished, unable to grow as
a result of their ordeals. Their conscious personality is overwhelmed by unconscious fears
and desires. Hamlet, for instance, is unable to escape his indecision and is paralyzed by his
pain. A neurotic sufferer, he dies tragically.
Two protagonists who most clearly exemplify this type of sufferer are Sophocles’
Oedipus and Shakespeare’s King Lear.9 Through such protagonists we learn about the many
pitfalls of anguish and pain. Furthermore, we can scrutinize how tragic characters are
trapped by circumstances which sometimes spiral out of their control but are originally the
result of internal psychological conflicts. These tales do not necessarily leave the reader with
a clear moral but instead give rise to feelings of helplessness and confusion in the face of the
unfairness and brutality of the universe. Nevertheless, Oedipus and Lear’s lesson was clear
for Jung: to capitalize on suffering one must be conscious of its causes. One must attempt to
correct internal faults and establish a productive tension with those extrinsic forces which
lead to the suffering thereby attempting to profit from its effects.
The Greeks used tragedy for its cathartic powers and to pose philosophical questions
about life. Just as they were torn by their inability to control their fates, so we can use their
mythic stories to examine how to deal with our own tragedies. Oedipus failed to perceive the
unfortunate reality that lead to his downfall. In the end, he pierced his eyes for having been
9
These stories, like the major examples that follow, are the product of hundreds and probably thousands of years of
myth making. As such, they are the amplified result of ancient archetypes whose meaning continues to be relevant today.
For instance, Oedipus’ tragic tale is tied to the New Year ceremony which “was the most important incident in the
Eleusinian mysteries” ancient secret religious rights tied to the goddesses Brimo and Demeter. His story mirrors those of
shephers who “fostered or paid homage to many other legenday or semi-legendary infant princes such as Hipothous,
Pelias, Amphion, Aegisthus, Moses, Romulus and Cyrus.” The Greek tragedy can even be connected to ancient Welsh
myths. Robert Graves, “Oedipus,” The Greek Myths (London: Folio 1996) 346-7. Furthermore, Lear’s tragedy is also
steeped in history, allusion and myth: “[Lear’s] memory has faded into mythology. Llyr and his son Manannan are Celtic
ocean-gods; Manannan reappeared in Yeats's plays and the "Dungeons and Dragons" games. The "children of Lir / Llyr"
were transformed into waterbirds in another Celtic myth…Legend remembered Lear as a pre-Christian warrior king in
what is now southwest England.” Ed Friedlander, Enjoying "King Lear", by William Shakespeare, 20 February 2003 <
http://www.pathguy.com/kinglear.htm>.
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blind to his own crimes. The exchange of curses and accusations between Teiresias the seer
and Oedipus the king demonstrates how consciousness and insight are at the core of
Oedipus’ suffering. Teiresias accuses Oedipus of being
the murderer of the king
whose murderer you seek10
and is in turn charged by Oedipus with being
blind in mind and ears
as well as in your eyes.11
In return Teiresias presciently retorts:
You have your eyes but see not where you are
in sin, nor where you live, nor whom you live with.
Do you not know who your parents are? Unknowing
you are an enemy to kith and kin
in death, beneath the earth, and in this life.
A deadly footed, double striking curse,
from father and mother both, shall drive you forth
out of this land, with darkness in your eyes,
that now have such straight vision.12
Oedipus’ lack of insight into his crime leads to his suffering. This shortfall cannot be
ascribed to the obtuse or narrow sighted nature of his personality. Yet its persistence is a
typical example of Aristotle’s hubris or blindness due to pride. Ignorant of his transgressions,
Oedipus succumbs to what are psychologically termed ‘fundamental attribution errors’ and a
‘self-serving attributional bias.’ In textbook terms these predispositions are defined as the
“tendency to attribute behaviours to dispositional qualities while underrating the role of the
situation”13 and the tendency to “deny responsibility for failures but take credit for
10
Sophocles, “Oedipus Rex,” from Greek Tragedies, ed. David Green and Richmond Lattimore, vol. 1 (Chicago: U Chicago
P, 1960) 360-361.
11
Sophocles 370-372.
12
Ibid 413-419.
13
Henry Gleitman, Alan J Fridlund and Daniel Reisberg, Pyschology, 5th ed. (New York: Norton, 1999) C11.
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successes”14. Thus, Oedipus’ intentions are moral but he is blind to the possibility that he
could be the cause of the suffering of his citizens whose pain he takes on himself:
I know you are all sick,
yet there is not one of you, sick though you are,
that is as sick as I myself.
Your several sorrows each have single scope
and touch but one of you. My spirit groans
for city and myself and you at once.15
Apollo’s oracle is clearly at odds with Oedipus whose search for a criminal is indicative of an
inability to search within himself for a solution to the problems that afflict his people.
Oedipus’ idealism and servitude to his people was shattered by his hubris a fate
imposed by the Gods. Like Gregor, he literalized his punishment. In this way, Oedipus may
have brought about his own downfall. By attempting to avoid a curse which in his mind was
going to be literally fulfilled, Oedipus may have overlooked a symbolic alternative.
[Oedipus] fled
To somewhere where [he] should not see fulfilled
The infamies told in that dreadful oracle.16
If, instead of having sex with his mother, he simply had to establish a productive relationship
with her, if, instead of killing his father, he simply had to individuate himself from his
father’s will, then Oedipus could have grown from Apollo’s curse instead of succumbing to
it. Had he stood his ground instead of running and grown from adversity instead of suffering
as a result of it, Oedipus’ good intentions might have been rewarded.
Classical myth is replete with punishments that exceed their crimes. It describes an
unfair world controlled by unpredictable and mischievous gods. Unlike the monotheistic
belief that apparently unjust events are a part of a plan that is complex beyond
comprehension, Greek myth describes suffering as the result of personal transgressions or
14
15
16
Ibid C25.
Sophocles 59-64.
Sophocles 796-797.
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divine will (which is not necessarily just). Aristotle’s perfect tragedy, Oedipus Rex fits this
profile exactly. Two important lessons about suffering can be derived from Oedipus’ tragic
tale. Fleeing from one’s fate is never productive. Whether it is the result of divine mischief
or an incomprehensibly complex plan, the gods’ will (or our destiny) must be accepted and
dealt with. Furthermore, in attempting to deal with this fate we must look within ourselves
as often as we examine others: blindness can be the result of looking in the wrong places and
making the wrong decisions. To grow, we must be flexible, to learn we must listening to
others and examine ourselves.
King Lear has much in common with Oedipus. They are both handicapped by their
hubris and incur a punishment out of proportion to their crimes (as Edgar ironically explains:
The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices
make instruments to plague us.17)
They are both driven to insanity and they recognize the cause of their suffering too late. Lear
questions the gods in a manner reminiscent of Job criticizing his unjust torment:
As flies to wonton boys are we to the gods;
They kill us for their sport.18
Yet he does so after losing all hope; his blind stubbornness has already torn away his last
trappings of control and sanity. Like Oedipus, we can learn from Lear’s mistakes. His
inability to see through the superficiality of his neighbors, maintain a flexible personal
identity and deal with the immense adversity to which he is subjected can be cathartic and
educational.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge explained that Shakespeare’s tragedy was founded on Lear’s
“intense desire of being intensely beloved.”19 For Coleridge, this desire was “selfish, and yet
17
William Shakespeare, The Tragedy of King Lear, ed. Russell Fraser (New York: Signet, 1998) V.iii.192-193.
Shakespeare IV.i.57-58.
19
Samuel Taylor Coleridge, “King Lear Essay,” from Absolute Shakespeare, 25 February 2003
<www.absoluteshakespeare.com/guides/king_lear/essay/king_lear_essay.htm>.
18
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characteristic of the selfishness of a loving and kindly nature alone.”20 It was natural and
almost endearing in its extremity: “the anxiety, the distrust, the jealousy, which more or less
accompany all selfish affections, are amongst the surest contra-distinctions of mere fondness
from true love, and originate Lear’s eager wish to enjoy his daughter’s violent professions.”
In Coleridge’s eyes, Lear loved too much and wanted too much love in return. His downfall
was tied less to a failure of kind than a failure of extent; he did not follow Apollo’s moral
maxim “nothing in excess.”
Lear’s downfall can also be attributed to his fixed self-identity. He tries to relinquish
his responsibilities while maintaining his rights and privileges: an impossible goal. Lear would
like to be treated like a king without the worry of ruling. In the words of professor Ian
Johnston of Nanaimo B.C.,
We are witnessing here an enormously powerful ego which simply cannot accept any
external check on his sense of how he should be treated…The strength of this solitary ego
manifests itself in the extraordinarily powerful and brutal images with which Lear expresses
his anger at Cordelia’s refusal to play along with his game. The language here and the
emotions it expresses are incommensurate to the surface events which have prompted it, in
excess of the cause…21
Lear can’t accept a love which is real and instead demands superhuman affection to validate
and confirm his role. The king’s strength is his weakness. Just as he responds out of
proportion to Cordelia’s words, so the gods react out of proportion to his words and their
agents (Lear’s other daughters and their accomplices) are vicious indeed. The king’s flaws are
augmented by divine opposition creating a drama of terrible extremes which epitomizes
tragic suffering. Madness abounds and is the repeated consequence of Shakespeare’s
characters’ blindness and hubris.
20
Ibid.
Speak What We Feel: An Introduction to King Lear, 18 February 2003
<http://www.mala.bc.ca/~johnstoi/eng366/lectures/lear.htm>.
21
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Incapable of relinquishing his identity, Lear “unleashes a chain of events which
ultimately removes everything from him which reassures him of who he is.”22 He is left
madman clothed in rags, wailing at the winds without a castle or a family. Stripped of all of
the telltale signs of his royalty and power (“All thy other titles thou hast given away; that
thou wast born with,”)23 he faces the elements and the gods naked. Lear needs this process
of relinquishment to discover himself, yet his fall is too great and his rebirth too late. The
king is inadvertently individuating himself from society, from his family and from his former,
fixed identity. His first glimpses of truth appear once he is in this uninhibited state. Wild and
angry, his mental condition mirrors his chaotic surroundings.
While Coleridge explains Lear’s morality by analyzing his love for his daughters,
Johnston believes that “the quality of his passion and his willingness to suffer”24 redeems
him. “He has launched himself on a voyage exploring what it means to be a human being
once one strips away all the extras that help to tell him what he is.”25 This voyage can be
immensely enlightening and is the subject of much literature and myth. The motif of
descending to the underworld and leaving all of one’s worldly positions and perceptions
behind echoes Lear’s descent into insanity. While heroes return stronger and wiser, Lear, the
stereotypical tragic protagonist, remains trapped below, briefly lifting his head above the
surface to gasp several last breaths of enlightened air before succumbing to the chaos. In
Johnston’s eloquent words, “his sense of outrage is so powerful, he is filled with such a
passionate self-pity, that he is, like Job, demanding justice from the chaos of natural forces
all around him, seeking an answer from God.”26 This search is momentarily productive: “it is
significant that the moment before he goes mad, Lear for the first time stops thinking about
22
23
24
25
26
Ibid.
Shakespeare I.iv.164-165.
Johnston.
Ibid.
Ibid.
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himself and calling attention to his own sense of injustice and expresses some genuine
feeling for the sufferings of others.”27 Only once Lear looks at his suffering relative to
others, examines his affect on society and takes into account its perception of him, does he
approach a relationship that could allow him to escape his plight.
In addition to teaching us to act in moderation and to establish a malleable selfimage in relation to society, Lear clarifies how to deal with opposition. The renowned
English professor John Danby’s essay on Lear from his book Poets on Fortune’s Hill
focuses on Shakespeare’s description of the appropriate stance to take when confronted with
adversity. This position is defined by what Danby calls ‘Christian patience,’ the active
positive resistance to injustice and chaos in the face of overwhelming evidence to the
contrary. For Danby,
Patience is the sign and guarantee that man is not assenting to a topsy-turvydom. Patience is
the will holding on through faith to the belief that reality is really rightside-up, in spite of the
appearances and seeming contradictions…It is reason withstanding the test of evidential
contradiction and charity withstanding the temptations of affliction.28
This is in stark contrast with modern patience which he likens to by inaction and
acquiescence. In essence, modern patience “amounts to sitting still and doing nothing.”29
While modern patience might be exemplified by Vladimir and Estragon as they wait for
Godot, Christian patience is typified by Job or Christ dieing on the cross. Danby laud’s the
latter’s resistance as “a marvellous steadfastness of patience...to perform the redemption of
mankind.”30 Thus Christian patience is a state of mind to strive for and a correct relation to
the divine.
Danby states that adversity can always be positive if only the subject responds
appropriately: “Adversity, in fact, is a stern but well-meaning tutor: rather rough on a man,
27
28
29
30
Ibid citing Shakespeare III.iv.29-34.
Poets on Fortune's Hill : studies in Sidney, Shakespeare, Beaumont & Fletcher (Port Washington: Kennikat, 1966) 111.
Ibid.
Ibid 110.
12
but you can’t help approving of him, and you feel better after you’ve been through his
hands...patience is the Reason of Aquinas joined to the Charity of St. Paul.”31 Through
patience we can attain salvation and with it justice and order. As evidence for his argument
for Christian patience Danby sites Thomas Becon’s exposition of The Catechism:
The grand example of patience is Jesus, who bore adversity ‘without any murmuring or
grudging against God.’ Other examples are Job, Tobias, ‘whom God deprived of his sight
that he might try his patience,’ and David who was ‘grievously and mortally pursued of his
ungodly and disobedient son Absalom.’ (Gloucester in King Lear carries the double load of
both Tobias’s and David’s afflictions.)32
From this passage it is clear that adversity or suffering of a very high magnitude is common
throughout the Old Testament and that the glory or reward for what is anachronistically
termed Christian patience can be equally magnificent. Unfortunately for Lear, this reward is
only offered to those whose response to adversity is appropriate.
The king instead remains unchanging, stubbornly holding on to the last shreds of his
kingdom (at times indicated by the number of horsemen in his entourage which is decreased
by each of Lear’s conniving daughters.) Finally, like Odysseus, the last of his crew are
removed and he is left alone to face the forces of nature and the divine. This parallel
between the two kings runs deeper for Lear is facing death itself and his defiance is at times
marvelous. Yet unlike heroic Odysseus, Lear’s incontrovertibly tragic fate is sealed. His final
lesson, to face adversity with Christian patience, is perhaps his most telling as it describes a
response to all suffering (this response is exemplified by the protagonists that follow.)
31
32
Ibid 115.
Ibid 115-116.
13
Jung’s “real” suffering,33 is the result of life’s need for opposition and for a balancing
of opposites.34 It is the natural product of being torn between what we define as good and
evil, right and wrong. As Danby explained in reference to adversity, it is a well-meaning
tutor, teaching us through pain. Real suffering is essential to our understanding of the world
and therefore our very survival. It is inescapable or, in Jung’s words, “necessarily attaches to
life [and] cannot be evaded.”35 Thus, one is attracted to sin but feels obliged to submit to
morality just as one is pulled by one’s parents in an opposite direction to the influence of
one’s friends. As long as the sufferer recognizes these opposing forces and deals with them
consciously she suffers productively. By considering both possibilities and analyzing their
merits and effects on the personality, the ego undergoes a positive process. This process is
defined by an enlargement of consciousness and increased understanding. Balancing
opposites protects the positive sufferer against a psychic enantiodromia. Good and evil are
accepted and the sufferer transcends their anguish to a stasis. Thus, productive suffering is
characterized by a positive result, a process of growth through pain, realization through
anguish and rebirth through self-reflection.
The productive sufferer is the adventurer who returns home enriched, the
protagonist with a goal who undergoes painful experiences but eventually achieves their
ambition and learns from these experiences. In short, she is Campbell’s hero. Odysseus, in
many ways, is the prototypical productive sufferer who learns from his suffering and helps
both himself and his society. Like Gilgamesh, he is able to differentiate himself from this
society, find his place and establish a balance between his unconscious and his conscious
33
34
35
“Productive suffering” will be used interchangeably with “real” and “conscious suffering”.
Jung vol. 11 p 197.
Ibid.
14
attitudes, between the values of the afterlife (Hades) and those of the waking world and
between the wild or instinctive side of his personality and the civilized, divine part.
Examples of real sufferers are plentiful and diverse ranging from Stephen Daedalus,
who learns to control his desires and free himself from society’s and his family’s
requirements, to Job, who learns from his mythic conflict with God. In essence, the
productive sufferer discovers the gray between the white and the black, learns her place and
establishes a positive relationship with adversity for the betterment of herself and, in some
cases, humankind.
The Hebrew Bible’s ever-questioning Job and Homer’s archetypal protagonist
Odysseus both illustrate the ability to overcome adversity, including spiritual and
psychological opposition, in order to survive and more importantly grow as individuals.
They suffer as they overcome their fears, conquer evil and battle immorality. On the verge of
yielding, they persevere and learn from their trials. They manage to balance opposing forces
through moderation and exercise patience in the face of adversity. Their adventures are both
educational and psychologically productive.
Odysseus’ suffering lies at the core of his Odyssey (a term which has come to mean a
difficult trial). Homer’s epic describes a man’s quest to return home and his agony at being
prevented from doing so. As in the Iliad, the Greek bard carefully foreshadows the major
themes of his tale in his first paragraph. The first word in original Greek text, andra, means
‘man’ and highlights Homer’s focus on Odysseus as the ideal individual36. The Odyssey is
very much a character study of its hero as he grows and changes. Furthermore, the essential
role that Odysseus’ suffering plays is explicitly mentioned by the narrator:
many the pains he suffered in his spirit on the wide sea,
36
Homer, The Odyssey, trans. Richmond Lattimore (New York: Harpur, 1967) 11.
15
Struggling for his own life and the homecoming of his companions.37
As the tale unfolds, following the oral tradition, Homer attaches descriptive epithets to many
of his personalities. Odysseus’ titles remind us of his greatness and his torment. Gods and
humans alike describe the hero as “long suffering great Odysseus” 38 and “much enduring
Odysseus.”39 As an archetypal quest, the epic is a tale of one man’s suffering.
The cause of Odysseus’ agony is more ambiguous than it is for Oedipus or Lear
because his own foolish actions are often the impetus for the creation of obstacles to his
progress by the Gods. For instance, Odysseus’ encounter with the Cyclops is demonstrative
of how the hero’s folly cost him many of his men’s lives and made his own journey much
more difficult. In this scene, Odysseus is not a mature hero. He confronts the Cyclops
Polythemus with high hopes of receiving gifts as a guest (a poor motive to begin with) and
refuses to take up his crew’s suggestion of a quick departure. After losing many of his men
to the monster’s terrible appetite, Odysseus finally devises a means of escape. Despite the
devastation it causes, the hero’s mistake is a necessary prerequisite for his differentiation. He
learns from the destruction of many of his crew members and achieves a higher level of selfrealization.
Yet the Odysseus compounds his crime by encouraging the Cyclops’ fury through
taunts. His comrades, desperately trying to save their own lives, attempt to silence him. Their
failure and his rage, result in Poseidon’s future and enduring wrath.40 He could not have
achieved rebirth without undergoing the long and painful voyage that Poseidon inflicts on
him. It is evident, however, that as helpful as it is, Odysseus suffering is not entirely his own
37
38
39
40
Ibid
Ibid
Ibid
Ibid
I.4-5.
V.171,354.
VII.200.
IX.494-526.
16
fault; his crew commit many costly mistakes and the punishment of the gods is again both
out of proportion to his crime and at times largely motivated by self-interest.
Absolving Odysseus of responsibility for his fate contradicts Zeus’ complaint in the
first book of the Odyssey. The “father of the gods” contends that humans always fault the
gods for consequences which are the result of their own ‘recklessness’:
‘Oh for shame, how the mortals put the blame on us
gods, for they say evils come from us, but it is they, rather,
who by their own recklessness win sorrow beyond what is given.41
The question of who to blame, however, is less important than how to react. Both a problem
caused by carelessness and one attributed to divine injustice can be detrimental and
beneficial depending on the individual’s response. Overtime, Odysseus finds the middle
path, seeking out moderation where before he, like his crew, exhibited only the extremes.
For instance, following Circe’s orders, Odysseus passes between Scylla and Charybdis, two
terrible dangers where he must lose six more crew members.42 The hero describes the extent
of his anguish at this inevitable loss: “In all I have gone through as I explored the pathways
of the seas, I have never had to witness a more pitiable sight”43 but he also resigns himself to
their deaths and is not lost in sorrow. He grows and continues to lead his men “with an
aching heart”44 having sacrificed for the greater good. Equally importantly, Odysseus
chooses to travel between the two monsters instead of confronting either head on. He
confronts this adversity but does not overreact to it. Jung would describe Odysseus’
suffering as dynamic or constructive, in contrast with neurotic suffering (Jung, 7: 78). His
sacrifice represents the surrender of a part of his psyche, a differentiation of his shadow and
41
42
43
44
Ibid
Ibid
Ibid
Ibid
I.33-35.
XII.245-6.
XII.257-9.
XII.270.
17
a shedding of an archaic persona. As painful as the process is, Odysseus must discard his
crew in order to be reborn just as he must descend to the underworld in order to grow.
George Chapman, a Renaissance dramatist created the most famous translations of
Homer in the English language.45 In his dissertation on Chapman’s interpretation of the
Odyssey, Joel Wilcox describes Odysseus as a man striving for perfection through suffering
and eventually attempting apotheosis through perfection. Odysseus’ pursuit of divinity is
linked to the universal human goal of bettering ourselves and cannot be achieved without
suffering. In Fletcher’s words:
Chapman makes the Odyssey an allegory in representing Odysseus as a model of the
completely realized man who has arrived at full possession of the wisdom and self-control
which is the mark of human perfection. As such a standard of perfection, however, Ulysses
is not presented as a static, two-dimensional figure. While he is a model to lesser men, he
works out through suffering the dynamics of his own attainment of perfection. As a
standard of conduct, he shines in the light of perfection, but his worldly wisdom is
transformed to divine wisdom through suffering which constitutes a divine chastening and
initiation rather than a punishment.46
This is remarkably close to Danby’s description of Christian patience as a divine tutor and is
a succinct summary of the morals expounded by Homer in his Odyssey.
A related religious analogy has been made between Dante and Homer which
describes Homer’s Odyssey as “tripartite fantastic voyage through a pre-Christian Hell,
Purgatory, and Paradise.”47 Bernhard Frank explains that, “like Dante, some two thousand
years later in the Comedia, Odysseus traverses a living equivalent of these three regions. The
perils of the early adventures form the journey through Hell; the island of Calypso, Ogygia,
is Purgatory (seven years of deepening penance); the land of the Phaeacians is Paradise.”48
Frank continues to outline in more depth how Odysseus and his crew’s various trials are
45
Keats immortalized Chapman’s work in his sonnet "On First Looking into Chapman's Homer" which describes the new
world unveiled by the writer.
46
Joel Fletcher Wilcox, The Philosophy of Chapman’s ‘Homer,’ 25 April 2003
<http://wwwlib.umi.com/dissertations/fullcit/8310100>.
47
Bernhard Frank, “Homer’s Odyssey,” The Explicator, v58 i4, 179.
48
Ibid.
18
reminiscent of a hellish existence. The turning point for Frank occurs at the hero’s descent
into his past or Hades followed by his exercising of moderation with the Sirens and patience
and restraint when confronted with the cattle of the sun:
[Going] to the Underworld, [is] another way of saying that he must face his past. Watching
the anguish of the dead heroes is the beginning of wisdom and repentance. Consequently he
learns moderation and overcomes temptation by having himself tied down when passing the
island of the Sirens…Later, when Odysseus's men slaughter the cattle of the Sun in their
gluttony, Odysseus is innocent. Zeus steps in to punish the offending men and, like Noah or
Lot, righteous men in the Old Testament, Odysseus alone is spared. He is, at long last, ready
to advance to Purgatory.49
Suffering and affliction, for Homer, Danby and Frank “sorts out the wheat from the
chaff”50 and reveals the hero amongst the commoners. Thus while Athena’s heart
is torn for the sake of wise Odysseus,
unhappy man, who still, far from his friends, is suffering
griefs, on the sea-washed island, the navel of all the waters51
She also knows that he is learning to be a ruler and a hero through his torment, learning to
exercise moderation in the face of opposition and learning patience when dealing with
affliction.
As Danby explained earlier, Job exemplifies Christian patience but he is not a model
of moderation or what would classically be deemed ‘faith.’ Instead he represents the dieing
curiosity and the active, forceful, even angry opposition that sustains one through the most
dire straights. This defiance of the ways things are demonstrates his resolve to himself as
much as to others. The set of catastrophes which lead to his downfall and which are the
result of God’s acceptance of a bet with Satan52 are so outrageous, so extreme and so
disastrous that they almost appear humorous:
49
50
51
52
Ibid 180.
Danby 117.
Homer I.48-50.
The term Satan was anachronistically written into this passage and can be more accurately translated as the “accuser”
in the original Hebrew text. Nevertheless, the term Satan is now so ubiquitous that it is inseparable from our
contemporary understanding of the story. H & Y 183
19
One day when his sons and daughters were eating and drinking wine in the eldest
brother’s house, a messenger came to Job and said, “The oxen were plowing and the
donkeys were feeding beside them, and the Sabeans fell on them and carried them off, and
killed the servants with the edge of the sword; I alone have escaped to tell you.” While he
was still speaking, another came and said, “the fist of God fell from heaven and burned up
the sheep and the servants, and consumed them; I alone have escaped to tell you.” While he
was still speaking, another came and said, “The Chaldeans formed three columns, made a
raid on the camels and carried them off, and killed the servants with the edge of the sword; I
alone have escaped to tell you.” While he was still speaking, another came and said, “Your
sons and daughters were eating and drinking wine in their eldest brother’s house, and
suddenly a great wind came across the desert, struck the four corners of the house, and it fell
on the young people, and they are dead; I alone have escaped to tell you…In all this Job did
not sin or charge God with wrongdoing”53
Unlike Oedipus and Lear, who suddenly realize tragic circumstances that have slowly
developed, Job must face the sudden loss of everything he holds dear. He falls from the
greatest heights of happiness to the lowest depths of anguish and is even afflicted with
“loathsome sores…from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head.”54 Subjected to all of
Odysseus’ various losses and difficulties at once, Job has neither his hubris nor his hamartia.
No agnorisis awaits Job as his affliction is incomprehensible and irrational, the result of
injustice. Job’s story has attained its universal appeal because of its uniquely tragic depiction
of the world and its questioning of the divine in addition to its stunning poetry.
This uniqueness offers us a different perspective from which to comprehend
suffering. Job’s fury is understandable while God’s actions are unjust or, as Jung describes
them, ‘amoral.’ The question that Job asks is central to our very existence in relation to the
divine: “How can a man be just before God?”55 No one to this day has answered this
question satisfactorily. Absolute justice before God is perfection and as Frank explained
above, perfection is apotheosis. We will continue to suffer in our attempt to attain
perfection. Many have argued that Job approaches apotheosis when he is able to argue with
God almost as an equal but this is only a temporary reprieve from his worldly existence.
53
54
55
Job 1:13-22.
Ibid 2:7.
Ibid 9:2.
20
Job’s true accomplishments are his persistence, his Christian patience, his constant
questioning and his resolution. The resolute protagonist himself explains: “Till I die I will
not put away my integrity from me. I hold fast to my righteousness, and will not let it go.”56
This integrity and righteousness characterizes Jesus as well and his the most significant
lesson about responding to suffering.
Jung, in his Answer to Job, explains why in some cases one must allow emotion to
wash over one’s response in order to be able to withstand it and respond to it appropriately.
This is not the complete abandonment of moderation but instead a balance between the
Apollonian and the Dionysian, between rationality and instinct:
The violence is meant to penetrate to a man’s vitals, and he to succumb to its action. He
must be affected by it, otherwise its full effect will not reach him. But he should know, or
learn to know, what has affected him, for in this he way transforms the blindness of the
violence on the one hand and of the affect on the other into knowledge.57
Firm knowledge and order, however, do not abound in the Book of Job. Its protagonist is
left as confused at its conclusion as he is originally confounded by God’s persecution. Job’s
lesson is therefore very different from that of Oedipus, Lear or Odysseus. It questions more
deeply the influence of the divine in our lives. The biblical scholars Hauer and Young state:
“Implied in the story are at least two answers to the questions of undeserved suffering: (1) If
you keep your faith through a time of suffering, you will ultimately be rewarded and (2)
suffering may be a test of one’s faith and fidelity.”58 Thus the description of suffering as a
trial or test and of resolute and persistent resistance and questioning in response to this trial
are confirmed by a biblical as well as a literary and classical example.
56
Ibid 27:5-6.
C. G. Jung, The Portable Jung, ed. Joseph Campbell (New York: Viking Penguin, 1971) 528.
58
Christian E. Hauer and William A. Young, An Introduction to the Bible: A Journey into Three Worlds, 5th ed. (Upper
Saddle River: Prentice Hall, 2001) 183.
57
21
If Job is “to be the guinea pig in a divine experiment”59 how can the experiment itself
be morally justified. Why should Job suffer for God’s pride? This brings us back to Jung’s
amoral God who, as Job suggests, “destroys both the blameless and the wicked.”60 Various
answers have been proposed in response to the question of God’s morality or of the
morality of humankind as represented in The Book of Job, none of which are definitive.
One such response suggests that we look to humans and not God for our sense of justice
and morality. If God’s complexity is beyond our comprehension, perhaps his role is greater
than the insurance of our everyday justice. Our doctrine of retribution, while reinforced by
bible, is not dependant on it and could be sustained by a purely human sense of morality
greater than posited law, instead of being affirmed by divine retribution. This solution leaves
God or the gods without a relevance to our suffering and places into question the role of the
divine in our lives in general. The problem with this perspective is that our sanity and
perhaps even our survival are dependant on the attribution of irrational suffering to a greater
force. Left to the self-interest and short-sightedness of humans, morality would surely revert
to a Hobbesian state of disorder and immorality. The perspective remains useful in forcing
us to question our own role in suffering and morality in addition to examining God’s. Like
Oedipus’ tale, it suggests we look inside of ourselves when confronting adversity.
59
60
Ibid 183.
Job 9:22.
22
In exploring the neurotic and productive forms a third more enigmatic type of
suffering emerges. Jung often refers peripherally to this third form and focuses on its
exemplar, Jesus, but never defines it explicitly. A productive, moral sufferer, this individual
consciously sacrifices herself for the betterment of society. ‘Sacrificial suffering’ is perhaps
the most appropriate title for this, the most selfless of the three types of suffering. While it is
exemplified by Jesus Christ, this third category includes contemporary and ancient figures
alike from Achilles to Tolkein’s Gandalf and from Mettius Curtious to Brutus the elder.61
Christ, particularly as represented by the cross, is the embodiment of productive
suffering. He underwent the ultimate sacrifice on the cross which then became a symbol of
this sacrifice. Jesus suffered to the point of abandoning hope but never did so. As the thread
tying him to life was about to break, he remained faithful. Raised to sit next to God, his
reward was an apotheosis that revolutionized the Western world. Jesus is described by some
as suffering for forgiveness; he dies to redeem humankind for its sins. Through suffering,
Jesus also achieves complete self-realization. The Apostle Paul explains that only in rebirth is
Jesus fully the messiah. Only after suffering and dieing can the superhuman save us. All
humans are under “the power of sin”62 because “through the law [of the Tanak] comes the
knowledge of sin.”63 Only through Christ’s suffering can we be redeemed. “As one man’s
disobedience [Adam’s] brought death, one man’s righteousness [Jesus’] leads to ‘acquittal and
life for all.’64 Thus the Jesus’ suffering redeems mankind.
In his book For Christ’s Sake, Tom Harpur states that “the hardest thing in life for
any of us is to go on trusting that God is love in the face of suffering, especially innocent
suffering…Jesus is the supreme example of innocent suffering. His witness to us is that even
Roman society put an extremely high premium on loyalty and sacrifice to the state. The emphasis on pietas, described
the state as a larger version of one’s family for which one should die if need be. Many Roman myths reinforce this belief.
62
Paul 3:9
63
Paul 3:20
64
Paul 5:18 as quoted and paraphrased in H & Y 328
61
23
there, even at the point of agony of mind and of spirit in which one feels God-forsaken
God’s love is never absent.”65 Trust in the divine, in a higher morality, must exist for humans
to feel secure enough to see an end to their suffering.
Suffering so dominates the writing of the earliest Gospel Mark that some have called
his work a Passion Narrative66 with an extended introduction. For Mark, “the Son of man
[Jesus] must undergo great suffering.”67 Hauer and Young confirm Mark’s emphasis on the
necessity of suffering stating: “the remarkable claim is being made that before the new age
begins, the one sent to inaugurate it must suffer and die…The message [the disciples] cannot
grasp is the irony of the kingship. The man of power will be glorified in suffering! So must
they.”68 Hauer and Young conclude their summary of Mark by outlining a pattern of faith
followed by suffering. This pattern, necessary for redemption, is exemplified first by John
the Baptizer followed by Jesus. Finally, the prediction that “those who follow Jesus will
likewise suffer with the promise that ‘the one who endures to the end will be saved’” is
made.69 Jesus suffering was a part of God’s plan and his followers will also have to “take up
their crosses and suffer” in order to bring about the “glory of the Kingdom.”70 Suffering is
thus explicitly necessary for salvation in Mark’s Gospel.
The concept of an opposing evil, of a Satan that counters God, emerged in full force
with the rise of Christianity. Jesus was the model for complete faith; he was able to forgive
sins and be pious through his acts not simply his words or rituals. His suffering thus offers
an apt contrast to the carnal pleasure of sin. While original sin predates Christianity and
Judaism, the myth of the Garden of Eden offers a summary of one perspective on the root
65
66
67
68
69
70
Tom Harpur, For Christ’s Sake (Toronto: McClelland & Stewart, 1993) 93.
The term used to describe the stories of the suffering and death of Jesus in the Gospels, Hauer 385.
Mk 8:31.
Hauer 271.
Mk 13:13.
Hauer 272.
24
of all human suffering. In this myth, knowledge, particularly that of right and wrong, which
is to say the knowledge of morality, brings about human suffering. Christianity then teaches
that faithfulness and righteousness offer an escape from this suffering. Paul also taught that
just as Adam brought toil and torment to humans, so Jesus saved us and removed our sins.
Yet our salvation is an ongoing and interactive process that necessitates continuing Christian
patience.
The cross symbolizes Jesus’ sacrificial suffering. In Jung’s words, “the cross is the
symbol of the suffering Godhead that redeems mankind.”71 As a symbol, the cross is laden
with meaning. This symbolism includes the unique tension between the divine and the
human on the vertical axis and between society and oneself on the horizontal. When in
balance, this tension is immensely powerful and satisfying. The biblical scholar Tom Harpur
describes “what the cross says” from a theological standpoint: “There is no experience of
life, whether of mental and emotional anguish or physical pain, where God’s redemptive
spirit is not at also at work."72
While the emphasis above has been on Christ’s salvation, similar motifs can be
found throughout the mythic literature of all cultures. Jesus is the prototype because he died
to redeem humankind. Nevertheless, many other sufferers enriched the world by exploring
the depths of human pain and by teaching others the knowledge that they unveiled through
suffering. In fact the idea of a blood-sacrifice, of one person’s death for the betterment of
others can be tied back to Egyptian beliefs and beyond. Harpur, citing a papyrus dating from
before 1400 B.C., explains:
“Among the many parallels in the ancient world was the myth of Osiris, the basis of the
Egyptian doctrine of eternal life and the resurrection of a transformed body. After a cruel
death inflicted by the powers of darkness and evil, Osiris conquered over all and was taken
71
72
Jung vol. 11 p 178.
Harpur 93
25
into glory. According to the Book of the Dead, he came to be known as the ‘king of
eternity’…the giver of life from the beginning, Life springs up to us from his destruction.”73
Thus, as with most of the Judeo-Christian religion, the Christ-doctrine is steeped in ancient
mythology, much of which reinforces the concept of the sacrificial sufferer.
The third type of suffering can be described as the product of Hegel’s thesis and
antithesis that is to say, as a synthesis. It is a combination of the neurotic sufferer who dies
and the productive sufferer who learns from her suffering. The sacrificial sufferer chooses
torment for the sake of others and is willing to die for their cause. Fully conscious of her
suffering, of its causes and its consequences, she learns and grows but cannot escape it. At
the same time she does not resist it. The sacrificial sufferer transcends her fate to better the
future for those that follow. From the sacrificial sufferer we learn to have faith and to be
selfless; suffering for the sake of others as well as for ourselves.
73
Ibid. 134
26
The examples above have been predominantly literary, classical or religious and as
such have come from high culture or academia. Yet suffering archetypes are present
everywhere around us, in pop culture and in our own trivial and catastrophic tribulations. To
demonstrate the relevancy of these forms to our own, modern lives, I will describe
influential films whose protagonists mirror the prototypical sufferers above. The first such
film is tragic on several levels. American Beauty describes the abject boredom and
unsatisfying consumption of suburban America while simultaneously telling us the story of a
man who tried to reinvent himself and succeeded too late.
During American Beauty’s opening sequence, the protagonist bluntly describes the
film’s ending; “I’ll be dead in a year…In a way, I’m dead already.”74 Like Sophocles’
Teiresias, Lester Burnham foreshadows his tragic end and sets the drab pessimistic tone of
the movie. Like Oedipus - who fears killing his ‘parents’ Polybus and Merope, and flees their
kingdom - and Lear - who wants to relinquish his responsibilities as king by passing them off
to his daughters - Burnham is motivated to change his life by a flaw in his everyday life.
Lester’s wife Carolyn has an affair with a fellow real-estate agent who exemplifies her shiny,
perfectly-matching superficiality and is a foil to Lester’s rapidly emerging persona. The real
estate agent’s actions mirror the Penelope’s suitors pursuit of (though Carolyn is anything
but faithful). As a ‘new’ man, Lester accomplishes much, individuating himself from, and
reestablishing a more positive relationship with, society. He becomes less materialistic and
even successfully incorporates his anima, achieving a greater degree of self-realization.
Near the beginning of the film Lester explains that “jerking off in the shower will be
the high point of my day,”75 yet by the movie’s conclusion, he has learned to control his
74
75
Sam Mendes, dir., American Beauty (Dreamworks SKG, 1999).
Ibid.
27
obsession with his daughter’s best friend Angela, and sees the ‘beauty’ around him.76 Lester
Burnham’s realization, however, comes too late to save him. A tragic hero, Burnham passes
through various challenges and overcomes obstacles, even managing a degree of
enlightenment and rebirth, but remains unable to reconcile the conflicts within and
surrounding him. Clearly suffering at the beginning of the film, he appears to be successfully
transcending his problems when his growth is abruptly halted by his wife who, in her need
for complete control, loses control, and kills him. The proximity of the tragic and sacrificial
forms of suffering is evident in Burnham’s story. The explicit narration is essential for our
enlightenment and for the atmosphere of the film. Thus, we learn through Lester’s tragedy
yet he is not suffering for us, nor does he consider the possibility of death. Thus, American
Beauty also presents a complicated picture of suffering.
As a classic adventure story and a self-described fairy-tale, the plot of The Princess
Bride fits the productive sufferer’s quest perfectly. Over the course of his adventure, the
protagonist, Westley, faces various monsters. Like Adonis, he fights boars in an Underworld
cave-like environment eerily reminiscent of hell and is wounded in the process. The purpose
of his quest is to save a princess who is to marry an evil prince. Like Gilgamesh, Westley
acquires his companions through combat to death during which he earns his opponents’
respect. While exhibiting skill and strength, he wins his most important battles with his wits.
The protagonist learns from his triumphs and suffering and, in the end, returns with the
princess. Along the way Westley must deal with much physical suffering. He is subjected to
an unusual form of torture and receives various injuries during his many journeys. As a fairytale, complete with narrator and inquisitive audience, The Princess Bride is simple and
76
It is interesting to note that for most mythic protagonists, tragic or productive, the catalyst for their adventure is ‘evil’
or sinful in one form or another. Thus, Lear wants more praise and Lester is shocked out of complacency by Angela’s
beauty.
28
obvious yet it has many clear references to folk-tale motifs and displays the suffering of an
adventurer succinctly.
Sacrificial suffering also abounds in film. References to the Jesus-type are evident in
many classic films. Drawing from a popular contemporary pool of films, Roy in
Bladerunner, Neo in The Matrix and Gandalf in The Lord of the Rings make reference to
Jesus’ suffering on the cross. In the first case, Roy, a character who is explicitly a replicant or
robot but comes across as being more human than many of the film’s ‘real’ humans, exhibits
intense pain as his body’s lifespan is coming to an end. He fails to achieve his original goal,
unable to lengthen his lifespan,. Quickly a secondary goal develops and comes to dominate
the film’s climax. Roy now wants to teach the film’s human protagonist, Deckert, what it
feels like to be a replicant. Roy knows that he must die and yet he prolongs his suffering to
help Deckert realize the humanity of replicants. As Roy drives a nail through his hand in
order to keep it ‘alive’ he creates a clear allusion to Christ. A literal saviour, Roy catches
Deckert after chasing him and saves him after attempting to harm him. Like Jesus Roy is
teaching through his actions as well as his words. Even the visual depiction of Roy parallels
Christ’s appearance: he stands shirtless on the roof of a building with white hair and his head
bent low. Roy goes so far as to release a dove, a white symbol of life and peace, before he
himself dies, satisfied in his own destruction for the betterment of another.
In The Matrix, the protagonist Neo is the saviour of humankind. He surpasses all
others in his ability to transcend reality. Furthermore, he dies and is reborn an invincible, allpowerful being. Throughout the film, the character Morpheus makes reference to Neo as
‘the one’ the only person who can win the battle raging between humans and intelligent
machines. Another prototypical hero, Neo frequently risks his life, subjecting himself to
extreme physical suffering in order to help others. For instance, Neo reenters the matrix in
29
order to prevent Morpheus’ death77. As the hero red-lines to the disbelief of Morpheus, the
viewer is lead to believe he has died and yet, seconds later, he comes back to life. Neo is
reborn, a new and perfect saviour. These two cinematic examples echo the lessons of the
literary and religious examples above yet both also depict a conflict between ourselves and
our creations. Originally evident in such masterpieces as Prometheus Bound and
Frankenstein, the suffering produced by our attempts to create life can be terrible and
productive as well. In the 21st century, the fear of machines and or artificial intelligence has
similarly inspired stories depicting our need to be saved from our suffering by humans who
exemplify humanity and in doing so are able to fight the machines.78
Finally, in The Lord of The Rings,79 Gandalf, originally the Grey, and later the White,
wizard, also suffers for the welfare of others, dies and is resurrected as a more powerful
saviour. Paralleling Jesus in the wilderness, he confronts a Satan-like creature and his agents
and “typifies the Elf-king or Christ-figure in his self-sacrifice during the battle with the
Balrog.”80 This battle is itself typical of Gandalf who tirelessly labours to preserve his fellow
creatures. In the novel Splintered Light, Verlyn Flieger makes clear the magnitude of
Gandalf’s self-sacrifice in a comparison with that of trilogy’s protagonist, Frodo:81
The sacrifice of himself in which he lets himself be used for good and broken by the power
of evil, he may paradoxically be redeemed by his own failure. With a degree of selfabnegation matched only by Gandalf’s surrender of himself in Moria, Frodo goes beyond
evil, beyond self, beyond physical or mental wholeness to be completely broken down that
he may be re-made. He is splintered light, and in his fragmentation he makes obvious the
need for re-union with self, with world, and with God that Tolkein feels is Joy beyond the
walls of the world.82
77
Morpheus is similarly willing to give up his own life for Neo. A scene of immense mental and physical torture makes
clear Morpheus’ many sacrifices.
78
In Bladerunner this pattern is reversed, the machines are enigmatically proving their humanity to the film’s
questionable humans and in doing so pose interesting questions about our own connection to the natural world.
79
I write about the series of novels written by Tolkien which the recent movie trilogy is based on. While the films follow
closely Toklien’s writing it is impossible for them to capture the depth of this self-described ‘mythologist’s’ writing.
80
Jane Chance Nitzsche, Tolkein’s Art: ‘A Mythology for Engand’ (London: Macmillan, 1979) 99.
81
Frodo undertakes a classic mythic quest as does Bilbo, in Tolkien’s The Hobbit.
82
Verlyn Flieger, Splintered Light: Logos and Language in Tolkien’s World (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1983) 143.
30
As in Bladerunner, Tolkien alludes to Jesus’ suffering through Gandalf’s appearance as well
as his actions. After ‘dieing’ at the hands of the Balrog Gandalf is reborn a white Wizard:
The aged Gandalf…dies as the Grey (puts off the Old Man) so as to be reborn as the White
(puts on the New Man).
The New Man as the archetype of Christ symbolizes the incarnation of the Word of
God in human form, a divine communication by the penultimate artist, God, to his
‘reader.’83
Furthermore, like Neo, Gandalf returns an invincible saviour: “Prior to his fight with the
Balrog, it seems that he was mortal, and was vulnerable both to weapons and “magical”
force, but as Gandalf the White no weapon could touch on him, and his power over the
Unseen was greatly increased.”84 Finally, it is evident from Tolkien’s eloquent writing that
Gandalf accepted fully the likelihood that he would die. Sacrificing himself knowingly, he
was resurrected to help save the inhabitants of Middle-earth.85 Thus Gandalf too was a Jesustype sufferer, enduring hardship and even death for the sake of others. He was rewarded for
his selfless actions and returned to continue his mission as a saviour.
83
84
85
Nitzsche 27.
Robert Foster, A Guide to Middle-earth (Baltimore: Mirage, 1971) 109.
Paul H. Kocher, Master of Middle-earth: The Fiction of J.R.R. TOlkien (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1972) 144.
31
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world86
Just as Lear’s response to his daughter’s honest words was wildly exaggerated and the
gods’ punishment of Lear was similarly disproportionate; producing a chaotic disaster out of
his control, so, in the past pages, I have described suffering in a spiral-like motion. The gyres
of this essay grew larger as the examples for each archetype were stories which have been
increasingly amplified in today’s society: Odysseus followed Lear and Jesus followed Job.87
To be more precise, in our contemporary culture, the myth of Jesus suffering – itself a
conglomeration of hundreds of myths before it – has been applied in a plethora of contexts
to teach many lessons. In fact, despite the decline in the importance of religion in society at
large, Jesus is probably the single most alluded to sufferer in modern culture. To a lesser
degree, the other prototypical sufferers, from Oedipus to Lear, have all had a significant
impact on Western civilization and are codified amplifications of common stories from our
ancient history. While at times redundant (for madness often traps the sufferer in her own
mind as she circles ever-back to her unsolvable plight) I have attempted to draw the reader
through various examples of suffering which, while only loosely connected in terms of their
plots and details, each bear an important lesson related to suffering and fit one of three
archetypes.
Oversimplified, these forms, drawn from established Jungian insights, are the
sufferer who fails, the sufferer who learns and the sufferer who teaches. The lessons
inherent in each of these archetypes have been discussed in depth. The sufferer must
transcend their internal conflicts in order to learn and must transcend the conflicts of society
86
William Butler Yeats, “The Second Coming,” 1922.
The cinematic examples have been omitted from this summary as their purpose was to give the prototypical sufferers a
contemporary relevance.
87
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in order to teach. More importantly, the stories of each of the prototypical sufferers above
included their own lessons. They implicitly promote values that have defined contemporary
priorities and virtues. To repeat Jacoby’s statement about archetypes, each of the examples
above has something to say about the mystery of being human and, more specifically for this
essay, about the universal human need to suffer. Just as Mark’s Gospel is depicted as a
Passion Narrative (outlining Jesus suffering) with an extended introduction, so this essay is
intended as a portrayal of suffering with an extended prologue of examples.
The message, moral or truths in the above stories came in a variety of forms. Some were
extremely literal. In Kafka’s story, for instance, the protagonist looked, felt and acted like the
suffering parasite he bemoaned. Similarly, Odysseus’ and Lear’s entourages represent their
original vision of, and confidence in, society. As the kings are literally stripped of their
soldiers, so their clothing is stripped from their bodies, leaving the sufferers naked and alone
to face their agony and, if possible, learn from it. The suffering imposes a literal
individuation which is symbolic of their psychologically parallel loneliness.
Another example of literalized symbolism is the intermingling of corporeal blindness
with lack of insight in Oedipus’ and Jesus’ stories. In Oedipus case, his lack of insight leads
to a catastrophe in which he pokes out his eyes in order to prevent himself from witnessing
the devastation he has wrought. Jesus, in contrast gives vision to the blind, just as he opened
his disciples’ eyes to the new kingdom of God. The Christ even goes so far as to save his
followers from death, paralleling his salvation of humankind through suffering. As a final,
ultimately symbolic message to his followers, Jesus sacrifices himself on the cross proving
that they all must suffer in order to be redeemed.
Symbolic allusions to suffering as death are plentiful as well. The most poignant of these
references is Odysseus’ descent into the underworld (beautifully echoed by Virgil in the
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Aeneid with a similar moral) during which the hero encounters various figures from his past
that have died. The presence of each individual is painful for Odysseus yet each also teaches
him about his journey, his future or his personality.
Physical suffering is present throughout the stories from the boils mercilessly
inflicted on Job to the agony of being nailed to a cross. Interestingly, physical suffering is
tied to mental pain which in turn can be a necessary and productive experience for humans.
Jesus’ slow suffering at the hands of carrion is eerily reminiscent of Prometheus suffering on
the Adamantine cliffs, a punishment which he indirectly received for creating mankind.
These two stories echo an earlier link between suffering, knowledge and morality. Job
questions god’s justice as Prometheus, the creator of humankind questions Zeus’ morality.
Above, I indicated how Mark used the myth of the Garden of Eden to explain the source of
human suffering. He described how, through Jesus, we can escape the sin imposed by our
knowledge of good and evil.
From the various representations of suffering I extrapolated possible lessons about
how to act and think in the face of such affliction and adversity. Among the qualities which
one needs in order to deal successfully with suffering and thereby become a productive
sufferer are curiosity, moderation, flexibility, humility, insight, Christian patience, persistence,
resolution, trust and faith. In order to grow we must face adversity. This adversity is often
the result of an adventure, a new experience or a conflict which is in turn generally the result
of our own curiosity. This curiosity is often kindled by an evil or sinful force. Thus evil leads
to the suffering that is necessary for growth. Just as Adam was tempted in the Garden of
Eden, Jesus faced Satan in the wilderness and Odysseus took part in the war crimes of the
Greeks after their victory over the Trojans. Furthermore, balance and moderation must be
exercised in order to reconcile competing demands which create a similarly painful
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opposition, necessary for our productive growth. Tempted by the Sirens and torn between
Charybdis and Scylla, Odysseus learns moderation. Lear teaches us that flexibility is
absolutely necessary in attempting to change oneself or one’s place in the world. His rigid,
stubborn love for his daughters left him helpless in the face of great adversity.
Humility and insight are also linked to each other as hubris or overwhelming pride
blinds many protagonists (including Odysseus as he taunts Polythemus) and must be
transcended for the protagonist to suffer successfully instead of dieing tragically. Our eyes
must remain open to the external causes and consequences of our suffering as well as
internal psychological conflicts. We must examine the world symbolically as well as literally
in order to avoid realizing our own fears (Oedipus’ terrible fate). Our ability to see clearly is
tied to the necessity of examining oneself and one’s relations to others, including the divine.
In this sense it is similar to curiosity as Job demonstrated in his daring inquisition of God in
response to his unfair plight.
Job also epitomized persistence and resolution as he defied a force that he
recognized as being greater than he could comprehend. Remaining a productive sufferer, he
resolutely continued his questioning resistance, refusing to submit to an unjust punishment.
Job was thus the prototypical Christian sufferer, displaying active patience to the extreme
and fitting Danby’s definition of a concept that shaped the Middle Ages and was defined by
Christ’s continuing faith in God, even on the cross. Trust and faith are also essential. Even
in the face of immense suffering and despite all of the various indications that the Greek
gods are unjust or that the Yahweh is amoral, the productive sufferer must nevertheless
maintain her hope that the forces of right will prevail, that order will be restored and that
justice will be served. This belief in a greater truth and a greater morality underlies our faith
in the divine. The idea that we can be better drives us to perfection and perfection,
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represented by Jesus for some, can be synonymous with apotheosis or godliness. Tradition
states that Jesus explained suffering as necessary and intentional:
“As you dance, ponder what I do, for yours is this human suffering which I will to
suffer. For you would be powerless to understand your suffering had I not been sent to you
as the Logos by the Father.
…If you had understood suffering, you would have non-suffering. Learn to suffer, and
you shall understand how not to suffer…
Understand the Word of Wisdom in me.”88
As humans we will never be perfect nor will we ever capture all wisdom. We will always
suffer due to our shortcomings but this suffering is necessary for progress. To suffer
successfully, productively, even sacrificially, instead of neurotically or tragically, is to live a
fulfilling life and approach perfection.
88
Cited by Jung vol. 11 p 274.
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