Forţa caracterului îşi propune să reevalueze ideile comune despre bătrâneţe, oferind o perspectivă nouă asupra ei, centrată pe noţiunea de caracter. Gândit ca o continuare la Codul sufletului (Trei, 2017), care analizează rolul esenţial al caracterului în viaţa noastră emoţională şi intelectuală, volumul de faţă este structurat în trei părţi ce corespund etapelor bătrâneţii identificate de autor. Prima este dăinuirea, etapa de desăvârşirea a caracterului prin înaintarea în vârstă, cea de-a doua este plecarea, adică pregătirea pentru moarte, iar în cea de-a treia, etapa de după plecare, caracterul celui dispărut îi influenţează pe cei rămaşi în viaţă.
Trecând în revistă miturile şi arhetipurile care ne guvernează viaţa în ultimii ani, Hillman explorează sensurile şi virtuţile ascunse ale schimbărilor fizice şi emoţionale specifice bătrâneţii, precum pierderile de memorie, modificarea tiparelor de somn sau misteriosul reviriment al imaginaţiei erotice. Îmbinând psihologia, filozofia, poezia şi textele sacre cu experienţa de viaţă a autorului, Forţa caracterului este menite să schimbe felul în care ne gândim la bătrâneţe.
James Hillman (1926–2011), psiholog, analist, profesor şi conferenţiar american, fost director de studii la Institutului C.G. Jung din Zürich. A fondat curentul psihologiei arhetipale, desprins din psihologia analitică, şi a scris peste douăzeci de cărți de specialitate, printre care The Myth of Analysis şi Re-Visioning Psychology, nominalizată în 1975 la Premiul Pulitzer.
Veacuri de-a rândul, anii târzii ai vieții au fost asociați nu cu apropierea morții, ci cu vitalitatea și caracterul. În general, bătrânii nu erau văzuți ca șchiopătând anevoie spre ușa morții, ci priviți ca tezaure trainice de obiceiuri și legende, paznici ai valorilor locale, experți în meșteșuguri și deprinderi, voci prețuite în sfatul obștii. Ce conta era forța caracterului, dovedită de numărul anilor de viaţă. James Hillman
James Hillman (1926-2011) was an American psychologist. He served in the US Navy Hospital Corps from 1944 to 1946, after which he attended the Sorbonne in Paris, studying English Literature, and Trinity College, Dublin, graduating with a degree in mental and moral science in 1950.
In 1959, he received his PhD from the University of Zurich, as well as his analyst's diploma from the C.G. Jung Institute and founded a movement toward archetypal psychology, was then appointed as Director of Studies at the institute, a position he held until 1969.
In 1970, Hillman became editor of Spring Publications, a publishing company devoted to advancing Archetypal Psychology as well as publishing books on mythology, philosophy and art. His magnum opus, Re-visioning Psychology, was written in 1975 and nominated for the Pulitzer Prize. Hillman then helped co-found the Dallas Institute for Humanities and Culture in 1978.
Retired into private practice, writing and traveling to lecture, until his death at his home in Connecticut on October 27, 2011 from bone cancer.
I wrote this essay after reading Hillman's book. The tone of the book is more scholarly, but the essay will give you a good idea of Hillman's orientation in this book on the inescapable fact of growing old.
Letting Go
On this late autumn day, the elms and oaks around my house seem determined to let go of all the leaves that have died on their limbs. Everywhere I look there is a letting go. The sky has let go of blue and allowed itself to be covered with a thick mantle of gray.
I am reminded of the letting go that I need to do. I am sixty-six (not that old as actuarial tables go) but like you and everyone and everything else that has been born, I am on my way to that final, total, letting go and I believe that it is time to shed what is no longer needed in this final stage of the journey.
It’s not a long list, the things I need to detach from. They are internal things mostly, like the ambition for worldly recognition that served me so well when I was young and yearned to be somebody. Now ambition and the search for glory and rewards are a heavy burden and I would like, if at all possible, to travel light.
Whenever I try to explain to people that in this phase of my life, I wish to let go of no-longer-needed wants, they get worried that I may be in the grips of depression. Sometimes, I see disappointment in their eyes. I am bailing out on the American dream to strive, always to strive for more, to never quit. I am giving up on living life to the fullest. Why, there are people older than me running marathons, running billion-dollar enterprises, running for president of the United States. A few of my more literary friends have even taken to quoting the famous lines from Thomas Dylan’s poem:
Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
I try to explain that, actually, raving and raging are at the top of the list of what needs to go. And if there is any burning inside of me, it will be more like the gentle flame of a candle that stays lit in the windstorm. But isn’t rage needed now more than ever? Isn’t giving up on rage the equivalent of not caring, of standing silent in the face of suffering and injustice? Am I being irresponsible? I respond that anger is not the strongest force, the fiercest weapon, but my words are taken as defeat.
I want to keep on working, fighting if you will, by being as useful to others as I can. What I am letting go of is the old motivation and the old methods of work. I let go of working for the fruits of my labor and focus on the sincerity of the effort. If I work with honesty and truth the outcome will not matter. I embrace work as a gift. The energy and ability to work, the talent, the creativity behind it, all is a gift and my only hope is to pass the gift successfully to others. The method too will change from hurried and anxious productivity to work done with the urgency and seriousness of an inner calling, a sacred obligation. Waiting with receptive attention, listening, silence, the fecundity of leisure – all these will be part of the work. The value and priority of different daily tasks will change. What if everything I do each day is equally important? What if playing with my grandchildren is as significant as writing a story? What if I write a story with the same love with which I hold my grandchild? And what if love becomes the burning purpose of my work?
So many world traditions recognize old age as a special time. A spiritual time when a person can let go of the business of making a living and spend time looking care-fully at creation or searching for the presence of a creator, or developing virtues like humility, patience, kindness. Here in America that kind of letting go seems like giving up or, worse, cowardice. But letting go is an act of courage. It is choosing to finally, finally, follow the beat of your own drum. It means, if it comes to that, living on the margins of what is approvable by the world you live in. Courage could mean a solitude that is entered bravely, but not without fear. I am letting go of the images of myself that have served me well since I was a child. Who am I if not the talented boy who could read hardcover books in first grade? Or the dutiful lawyer or the Latino writer? Who am I, really, without these comfortable images?
These old, old, trees let go of their leaves effortlessly. For them, the process of letting go each year is part of their becoming and their becoming happens just as it is meant to happen. It is, unfortunately more complicated for me. The acorn “knows” it will become an oak tree. My own becoming takes some figuring out. Not just who I am but who I am supposed to be. Who is the person I am finally to become? For I feel the presence of becoming in my old heart and it is not the same restless energy of forty years ago. To find out where this becoming is taking me, I must let go of all that is not true, of all that belongs to others, of all those cherished fantasies. No one said it wasn’t going to hurt. And yet, this letting go is not without a quiet joy, like the joy of the trees swaying in the wind, or the joy of the spiraling, falling leaf. I don’t know how to describe this joy. It is a paradox. It is joy filled with a light that is both dying and living.
Interesting psychologist's view of "oldness" and wisdom, incorporating ideas from anthropology and sociology.
The author examines the common physical and mental factors of ageing, arguing that this is not so much a lessening of abilities as a new state of being or archetype in which we attain our true identity and character.
James Hillman postulates that it is a recent phenomenon to disregard people who are not young-acting and young-looking. Earlier societies revered the idea of "ancestors". The older a person became, the closer they were towards being an ancestor - a model for the young, and the bearer of a society's cultural memory and traditions.
Since we all (hope to) grow older, this is a book with a message.
Senėjimo tikslas, tai ne vargana egzistencija laukiant mirties, o charakterio, kaip unikalių bruožų rinkinio, galutinis šlifavimas. Charakteris, tai vaizdinys, kuris liks čia po mirties pasiliekančiųjų atsiminimuose, vizijose, sapnuose. Senatvė, kaip gyvenimo tarpsnis, turi savo ypatingą reikšme ir nereikia nei jos nuvertinti, nei nuo jos bėgti.
Hillman's meditation on old age. Another amazing read where I want to keep making and highlighting brilliance on almost every page. Amazing man. Can't believe I only came to him now. This has radically changed my views on some of the phenomena common in older people I care for - from sleep disturbances to the "dirty old goat" to the reasons and propensities for retelling stories - and should be required reading for anyone in geriatrics. Too bad medical schools have totally overlooked Hillman.
Another massive problem he points out is that geriatrics and gerontology are being studied by mostly new, young researchers, with the goal of making the elderly stay young, or young-like, ("reversing or stalling the aging process" as it is often put) rather than truly studying and appreciating "the old." There's a great line in there somewhere about how no one wants said at their funeral that they handled the end of their life with good self-esteem.
The first thesis here is that the association of aging and being old with death is a modern, somewhat flawed idea. In previous times, death was associated with the young - childbirth, accidents, childhood disease. Someone who made it past all that was likely to live quite long (which is still kind of true, just older - 85 year olds are likely to become 90 year olds, 90 year olds, 95 year olds...etc). Aging and death are two totally different things. There are some lovely lines about "old things" and why they are so important and beloved.
"There are old texts, like those of Homer and Ovid, Heraclitus and Sophocles, that require new translations every generation: the translations age, but never the text."
"What about the old things you live with? Are they aging, dying? The old chair the cat prefers; the old tumbler your hand enjoys holding for your evening whisky. "I love this knife; I couldn't do without it." We say "love" more often about things - tools, shoes, hats - than about persons. Old is one of the deepest sources of pleasure humans know. Part of the misery of disasters like floods and fires is the irrevocable loss of the old, just as one of the causes of suburban subdivision depression - and aging and death - is the similar loss of the old, exchanged for a brand-new house and yard. Old things afford a supporting vitality; without them we find it harder to be alive....We need the old pleasure-giving things, which reciprocate our love with their handiness and undemanding compatibility."
"We can reconceive the whole business of character by focusing less on children and what they should know than on old age and what we do know. I am compelled and constrained by what I do not control. Character forces me to encounter each event in my particular style. It forces me to differ. I walk through life oddly. No one else walks as I do, and this is my courage, my dignity, my integrity, my morality, and my ruin."
Hillman’s central idea is that aging, particularly old age, is required for the development of character. Character is identified with such qualities as honor, dignity, courage, grace, and value. He laments that in American society attitudes toward old age seldom embody respect for such qualities. Without this “character” that he discusses, old age is lessened and becomes a matter of loss. Old people lose their beauty, their productivity, their health, and become burdens that have to be cared for.
If they remain healthy and mentally alert, independent, and leave this earth quickly and without any fuss, than society is generally satisfied. But this reduces them and makes them largely irrelevant. Hillman contends that all old people, even in a state of physical or mental decrepitude have much to offer They have lived a lifetime and have stories to tell, observations and insights, even if they appear to be outdated, garbled, or demented. Every old person is an individual and has a character of his own.
Individuals are all different, and to appreciate these differences, a good relationship is necessary on the part of friends or family. Hillman, interestingly, says that relationships usually fail, not because of lack of love, but of a lack of imagination. Children, if encouraged often come closest to connecting with old people.
Hillman writes, “A grandparent can afford visions grander than the difficult and dutiful routines of the parents. An old man’s eyes may be clouded but his vision may see clearly because he is close to the child’s affection. In many indigenous societies the deeper instructive and affective connections skip a generation. Since both grandparents and grandchildren are partly marginalized, the young fantasist joins the old eccentric against a common opponent, the adult generation.” That’s not to disparage parents, it’s only to say that they are too busy with day-to-day concerns to imaginatively relate to either children or old parents.
He quotes William Butler Yeats’ “A Prayer for Old Age’:
God guard me from those thoughts men think In the mind alone, He that sings a lasting song Thinks in a marrow bone . . . I pray – for fashion’s word is outdated And prayer comes around again - That I may seem, though I die old, A foolish, passionate man.
What is he talking about here but the force of character? Yes, it’s foolish, not in accord with conventional thinking. Rather the old person thinks, not rationally, but with his “marrow bone”, his instincts, memories, feelings that come from the gut, the “marrow bone.” Let the person die, a “foolish, passionate” man. No talk here about usefulness to society, or being a burden. Old people are what they are, and we need to accept and realize that in their breaking down and falling apart , they still offer an alternative, accessed only by the imagination to be sure, to us who consider ourselves put together and whole
James Hillman resurrects the 19th century notion of character.
For Hillman, as we age (if we’re doing it right), we shed those aspects of ourselves that are inauthentic.
And we cease TRYING or even DESIRING to FIT IN.
What’s left after we let go of all that?
Quite simply…
CHARACTER.
Pure ECCENTRICITY.
Hillman writes “ Character is fate. For what is "left" is the piece of fate that each person's unique character embodies.”
“To be unique is to be odd, different, atypical, unlike anything else anywhere; the oddities a person tries to whittle down to conformity during most of his or her life reemerge in late life to compose the image that is left.”
If you’re confused about the Jungian notion of INDIVIDUATION.
This book is a WONDERFUL, LIFE GIVING, SOULFUL, EXTENDED MEDITATION/CLARIFICATION on INDIVIDUATION.
A GREAT book by a NASTY ol’ CUSS, of a CRANKY ol’ COOT.
A GREAT SCHOLAR/POET writing about what is of GREATEST VALUE at the end of a WELL LIVED, WELL EXAMINED LIFE.
James Hillman who died in 2011 at the age of 86, was a leading interpreter and exponent of Jungian psychology, who published more than 20 books. I still have to read many of them, but I recently discovered "The Force of Character: and the Lasting Life". This is an excellent study of the psychology of life's later years and the aging process, linking the mental, spiritual and the physical. To Hillman old age was a time when each person's innate character could reach its full potential. He warns against accepting the stereotypes of old age so prevalent in modern society, and encourages older people to maintain a strong personal identity as long as they live.
While "The Force of Character" also deals with the subject of illness and death it is not depressing, and should not contravene any religious beliefs the reader might hold.
As an octogenerian I found the book both stimulating and comforting. Perhaps not a great read for the young, but for us oldies definitely worth finding, especially the now out of print Large Print edition (1999).
A challenging read in the context of deep dives into the physiology and psychology of aging. The archetypal theme, and the ultimate “old age prize” of this book is the persistence of one’s image and character. The process of aging allows the polishing of character through a number of processes, and the giving-up of priorities that no longer have a place. I had to re-read words, sentences and entire passages to glean the meaning. Part metaphysical; referencing Jung, Nitschke et al and occasionally mystical in its references to Greek philosophy, it can be challenging. That said, there are many pearls of wisdom (wisdom, in old age, being one of the pearls) that help to shape a positive view of life’s journey in our elder years.
Though anyone with curiosity and a willingness to look at the world with an open mind, Hillman's book seems intended for people on the other side of 50. Among the ideas that he writes about is the notion that aging is somehow synonymous with decline, decay, and loss. He attempts, largely successfully in my view, to show the sharp limits of that idea, the way it ignores, when it is not simply misrepresenting, the changes that come with age. This is a facile simile, which obscures many insights which he makes, but aging for the individual, if we are to understand it and its meaning, its value, partakes of the meaning of the word in a collocations such as "aged whiskey." The effect of time, and all the changes that come with it, is not to detract, to lessen, but to enrich, to deepen, to continue to develop what is inherent yet which cannot be seen without the aging that time brings.
I can't be more precise than that not only due to my own limitations (fatigue, other demands on my time and attention) but also, I must admit, to the language of the author. Hillman does have numerous marvelous insights, but his prose often floated off the page for me. True, he's speaking of things that are hard to be precise about - character, fate, courage, that which lasts - yet I often had to re-read sections to get a clearer sense of his meaning only to have it slip back out of focus several pages later. Its partly the same problem for me of most texts on philosophy - the abstraction of the language. Yet I would still recommend this book to anyone who wonders what value the final 1-2 decades of their life may have. You will find not only a sympathetic mind in this text, but wise counsel as well.
"The Force of Character" does have one strong element in its favor: Hillman's implied suggestion that we re-conceptualize "old age."(I say "implied" because sometimes his writing tends to be a bit abstruse. He dearly loves to talk around things. Not entirely surprising for a Jungian psychologist...)
Perhaps some of the things associated with old age that we interpret and fear as "degenerative" -- for example the way the aging brain may lose some of its sharpness wrt short term memory, while retaining "old" memories with perfect clarity -- could be re-conceptualized as a net positive.
Perhaps old age" should be thought of as the period in our development that helps us prepare for death. Perhaps one of the most important ways we prepare for death is to reflect on our lives and our life lessons. Perhaps the "infirmities" and behavioral quirks that tend to arise during old age are nudging us to do exactly that.
It's pretty different from the way we conceive of "old age" in the West today -- "youth" as the standard, and old age as in every respect being "lesser" -- weaker, slower, stupider, duller, etc. -- which in turn spurs us to try to resist the symptoms of old age in a way that very often turns grotesque ...
"Now, in this magnificent book, [James] Hillman completes his exploration of character with a profound and revolutionary reflection on life's second half.
" 'Character requires the additional years,' declares Hillman. 'The last years confirm and fulfill character.' Far from blunting or dulling the self, the accumulation of experience concentrates the essence of our being, heightening our individual mystery and unique awareness of life. Drawing on his grounding in Jungian psychology, Hillman explains here the archetypes and myths that govern the self's realignment in our final years.
"The Force of Character follows an enriching journey through the three stages of aging -- lasting, the deepening that comes with longevity; leaving, the preparation for departure; and left, the special legacy we each bestow on our survivors. Along the way the book explores the meanings and often hidden virtues of characteristic physical and emotional changes, such as loss of memory, alterations in sleep patterns, and the mysterious upsurge in erotic imagination.
"Steeped in the wisdom of a lifetime, radiant with Hillman's reading in philosophy, poetry, and sacred texts, charged with a piercing clarity, The Force of Character is a book that will change -- and affirm -- the lives of all who read it." ~~back cover
Sopunds wonderful, doesn't it? the problem I found was that the first three chapters (49 pages) were deadly dull and very pedantic and not much about the meanings and often hidden virtues of physical and emotional changes, etc. As always when *I'm trying to plow through a book that isn't holding my interest, I look at the enormous pile of books waiting to be read and think I'm best served by moving along to a book I'll enjoy.
In his powerful bestseller The Soul's Code, James Hillman brilliantly illuminated the central importance of character to our spiritual and emotional lives. Now, in this magnificent new book, Hillman completes his exploration of character with a profound and revolutionary reflection on life's second half."Character requires the additional years," declares Hillman. "The last years confirm and fulfill character." Far from blunting or dulling the self, the accumulation of experience concentrates the essence of our being, heightening our individual mystery and unique awareness of life. Drawing on his grounding in Jungian psychology, Hillman explains here the archetypes and myths that govern the self's realignment in our final years.The Force of Character follows an enriching journey through the three stages of aging--lasting, the deepening that comes with longevity; leaving, the preparation for departure; and left, the special legacy we each bestow on our survivors. Along the way the book explores the meanings and often hidden virtues of characteristic physical and emotional changes, such as loss of memory, alterations in sleep patterns, and the mysterious upsurge in erotic imagination.Steeped in the wisdom of a lifetime, radiant with Hillman's reading in philosophy, poetry, and sacred texts, charged with a piercing clarity, The Force of Character is a book that will change--and affirm--the lives of all who read it.
I read this when I was on the wane from reading this sort of book but I read it with great pleasure, respect, and gratitude. I continue to think of the author as wise and most helpful. When I encountered the work, I was my late 50s and just realizing I was growing old but not fully feeling aged. "Aging is not accident," James Hillman writes. Human beings live longer than most animals though certainly not all and aging has a purpose, say Hillman. Aging speaks with an intelligence. He builds from this introduction with scholarship, his background and leadership in Jungian Analysis, experience of Zen, and really just some old fashioned wisdom.
I was still somewhat attune to Jung when I first read the book. I no longer am but I do appreciate Hillman's expertise and leadership in that school of analysis. I am still attune to Zen. I also am less optimistic about aging though I do accept it can be an interval of learning what he are maybe intended to experience if we are lucky.
This runs counter to some works on aging I currently read but this is a counterbalance, perhaps, to what I currently read. At moments when my mind seems still to work I feel a bond with Hillman. When I am in pain or severe decline, I am feel less a bond. Anyway, this work deserves as does the vast body of Hillman's other work is good reading and nourishing.
In 1999 Random House released James Hillman’s book “The Force of Character and the Lasting Life.” This book examines the natural and soulful attributes of psychological character traits. The examination is based on how our character impacts our life events as we age; and how our unique understanding of human values form our natural and spiritual life experiences. Hillman also explains that the soul is the form of the body, and how our soul takes on a uniqueness as we age. This uniqueness is embedded in our character traits and it is a force that impacts what we experience throughout our existence. The book also features how Freudian and Jungian concepts of memory, imagination, and freedom impact our character traits. Finally, character formation can be strongly influenced by human moral, theological, and ethical teachings. Hillman was an instructor at Yale, Syracuse University, Chicago University, and Dallas University. Hillman’s book is very thought provoking, well referenced, and a wonderful reading experience. (P)
The Force of Character is a book I wanted to love. On paper, it promised a meditation on aging, meaning, and the unveiling of the self. But while Hillman writes with a certain lyrical authority, the result often feels like wandering through a dense mist of metaphors in search of something solid.
There are moments of genuine insight but they’re buried under an avalanche of mythological references and loose abstractions.
Thoughtful, elegant, but ultimately too vague to be transformative.
Premetto che non mi aspettavo che parlasse di vecchiaia, visto il titolo. Da un lato, mi ha resa più felice di invecchiare; dall’altra ho fatto fatica a leggerlo, perché l’ho comprato convinta che parlasse del carattere.
The mind likes ideas. It asks for fresh ones, even half baked ones. It busies itself cogitating. The mind is naturally curious, inventive, transgressive. Older persons are advised to keep mentally active so as to delay decline of brain function. Use it or lose it.
In 1998 when this book was published, Hillman was contemplating the idea of older age and how humans are evolving so that a perception of older age, is changing
T. S. Eliot: Old men ought to be explorers
Hillman advises us to become involved in the events of aging. It takes courage and curiosity.
Death is beyond thought and we should decouple death from aging and restore the link between older age and the uniqueness if character.
I --Lasting means to endure. Read D H Lawrence's A Lesson on a TortoiseTortoise Family Connections To be a tortoise! Think of it, in a garden of inert clods A brisk, brindled little tortoise, all to himself— Croesus!
In a garden of pebbles and insects To roam, and feel the slow heart beat Tortoise-wise, the first bell sounding From the warm blood, in the dark-creation morning.
Moving, and being himself, Slow, and unquestioned, And inordinately there, O stoic! Wandering in the slow triumph of his own existence, Ringing the soundless bell of his presence in chaos, And biting the frail grass arrogantly, Decidedly arrogantly. ...
Aristotle says "The soul is the form of the body -it is the body's final aim or purpose The soul forms the body. - Although the interests of body and soul are the same, the beauty of the soul is harder to see than the beauty of the body....
Plato, Aristotle, Feynman -their interpretations are discussed.
Basically, People with a force of character have a sense of purpose; a sense of being; their minds burn bright and rise above the storm while confidently, they press forward. They seem to know the secret to personal success "This buried secret also indirectly draws in the individual regard and respect of others
People with a force of character consciously think before they act, and when the decision is made to act, they always take full ownership of their actions, even if the decisions turn out awry or are negative.