|A picture of an unusual house - Rush harbour, Oct 2010|
He [Freud] portrayed the unconscious as a large entrance hall filled with mental images, all trying to get into a small drawing room into which the entrance hall opens. In that drawing room resides consciousness, with whom the impulses are hoping for an audience. In the doorway between the entrance hall and the drawing room stands a watchman, whose job is to interview each impulse seeking admission and decide if that impulse is acceptable. If it is not, the watchman turns it away, and it must remain in the entrance hall of unconsciousness. If an unacceptable impulse gets just past the threshold, the watchman will evict it and push it back into the entrance hall. The impulses that are turned back in this fashion are repressed. Once an impulse has gained admission to the drawing room, it still is not conscious until it has caught the eye of consciousness. Such impulses, those in the drawing room but not yet seen by consciousness, are the preconscious. The watchman who ejects, that is represses, unacceptable impulses is the same watchman who turns up as resistance when the analyst sets out to lift the repression for the liberation of the patient. (Michael Kahn, Basic Freud, 18-19)It is also important to point out that the image of the multi-storeyed house represented the human psyche for Jung with the lower storeys referring to the unconscious strata while the higher ones refer to the conscious strata of the psyche.
|Another image of Soul: The Coachman's Inn, Oct 2010|
. (Gittings, Keats' Letters p. 96)
I will put down a simile of human life as far as I now percieve it; that is, to the point to which I say we both have arrived at - Well, I compare human life to a large Mansion of Many Apartments, two of which I can only describe, the doors of the rest being as yet shut upon me - The first we step into we call the infant or thoughtless Chamber - in which we remain as long as we do not think - We remain there a long while, and not withstanding the doors of the second Chamber remain wide open, showing na bright appearance, we care not to hasten to it; but are at length imperceptibly by the awakening of the thinking principle - within us - we no sooner get into the second Chamber, which I shall call the Chamber of Maiden Thought, than we become intoxicatewd with the light and, we see nothing but pleasant wonders, and think of delaying there forever in delight: However, among the effects this breathiong is father of is that temendous one of sharpening one's vision into the heart and nature of Man, - of convincing one's nerves that the World is full of Misery and Heartbreak, Pain, Sickness and Oppression - Whereby this Chamber of Maiden Thought becomes gradual;ly darken'd and at the same time on all sides of it many doors are set open - but all dark - all leading to dark passages. We see not the ballance (sic) of Good and Evil. We are in a Mist... We feel the burden of the Mystery. To this pointv was Wordsworth come, as far as I can conceive when he wrote "Tintern Abbey", and it seems to be that his Genius is explorative of those Dark Passages.... Your third Chamber of Life shall be a lucky and gentle one - stored with the wine of Love - and the Bread of Friendship