James Hillman is a curious figure. He started out as a student of C. G. Jung but ended up breaking with his Swiss master to create his own system of psychology, just as Jung had done with Freud. Hillman's ”archetypal psychology” is even more mystical than Jung's ”analytical philosophy”, basically re-inventing psychology from scratch as an occult system drawing half on Greco-Roman paganism half Renaissance-era alchemy. If you ask me, the results resemble Alejandro Jodorowsky's Psychomagic or G. I. Gurdjieff's Fourth Way more than either Freud's or even Jung's system. That said, I do sometimes find Hillman's books rather short on concrete examples of his system used in practice and applied to specific case stories, something even Jodorowsky was more attentive with in ”Psychomagic”. That is why I decided to earlier in 2021 read ”Animal Presences”, one of the last books Hillman finished before his death in 2011 as it entered print in 2007, since it contains more specific examples of archetypal psychology in practice.
”Animal Presences” is divided into 13 chapters some of whom spell out the overall philosophical subject matter and points made in the book as a whole, but most of the chapters focus on a specific animal: How the animal appeared in the dreams of his patients and the overall context of their individual case stories, humanity's more specific relation with the respective animal and the role the animal plays in various religions and mythologies. Hillman frequently weaves these musings into ambitious philosophising over humanity's relation to the cosmos, with characteristic harsh words for modern Western anthropocentrism as inseparable from the unprecedented spiritual crisis afflicting the modern West. All this is delivered with the rhetorical finesse I have come to expect from Hillman, and a great sense of humour I have not encountered in his books until now.
For example: There is a hilarious section where Hillman pontificates about how modern day hamburger eating represents a debased form of Mithraic bull-sacrifice symptomatic of modern Westerners' dysfunctional relationship with nature and the divine. It sounds stark raving bonkers when I summarise it here, but Hillman presents it in a way that makes perfect sense in context:
"Under the golden arches, a taurobolium in ketchup, the dead gods are celebrated in strange misshapen recurrences of antique rites. The burgher's burger, a thick secular wafer in a debased myth that is liturgically living because we do not know it is a myth. A uniform daily occurence of the native animal god, with his and her epitheta deorum: Burger King, Big Boy, Big Mac, Dairy Queen, Hamburg Heaven." (p. 71)
While I find Hillman's mentor C. G. Jung to have a better signal-to-noise ratio than I remember, I often find Jung's writing style and language rather clumsy. A complaint I would never aim at Hillman, whom I often find worth reading for his way with language alone. From the same chapter:
"You shall hear great tales of myths and origins; how the bull came into the world; the nature of inflation; of money and the bull market; why the bull of imagination disrupts convention; why Blake said, "Jesus the Imagination"; why Johnny can't read; and finally, and necessary to every American public address, what's wrong with this country, how we got this way, and how we may still be saved. These fifty minutes must promise all this because the theme of this talk and my talk itself is bull from beginning to end." (p. 58)
I would go as far as saying that even if Hillman has limited academic value, there is still literary value in his books and ”Animal Presences” is perhaps the best example I have encountered so far. Another example comes from the chapter ”Horses and Heroes” (pp. 80-84) where he ponders the roles horses have played in human cultures, including the exact reasons why combustion engines' effect is measured in horse-power and why so many automobiles are named after horse breeds:
"The young heroes of Greek myths rode their horses into the air: Bellerophon on Pegasus, Phaethon driving his father's chariot of the sun, Hippolytus racing off the roadside to his death. They couldn't hold their horses, and they crashed.
[...]
And still they carry us, as Broncos and Pintos, Mustangs, Pacers, and Colts, and as the power hidden under the hood. Even driving across the lawn and the golf course, we're still riding horses.
That horse power still brings sudden death on the night roads and highways to so many boys at the verge of bursting into full life - boys like Hippolytus and Phaethon, and Diomedes, that son of Mars and mythic king of Thrace whose horses ate his human flesh. The steed that can so strongly carry life leads that same life to its funeral in the solemn procession of the riderless horse" (p.81)
Speaking of the tension between academic value and literary value, Hillman expends an entire chapter in ”Animal Presences” on belabouring the limitations of traditional psychological dream-analysis and what might instead be gained from viewing animals that appear in dreams as totem animals instead of metaphors. This chapter, ”A Snake Is Not a Symbol”, covers the pages 76-79 and contains a quote often used as a crystallisation of Hillman's entire philosophy:
"For instance, a black snake comes in a dream, a great big black snake, and you can spend a whole hour with this black snake talking about the devouring mother, talking about anxiety, talking about the repressed sexuality, talking about the natural mind, all those interpretive moves that people make, and what is left, what is vitally important, is what this snake is doing, this crawling huge black snake that's walking into your life…and the moment you've defined the snake, you've interpreted it, you've lost the snake, you've stopped it.…" (p. 77)
I am still not sure how much I understand Hillman's ideas as put forth in here let alone agree with them. Yet every chapter in this book has made me think further about the many subjects breached in it and is extremely elegantly written in addition to being gut-bustingly hilarious. It is not often I recommend an ostensible work of psychology for its literary value and its humour, but that is indeed what I would do with ”Animal Presences”.