Soothing Fury
By Deedy Young
Aeschylus’ “The Eumenides” portrays the survival instinct’s fury when it is triggered by threats or by harm to our selves or loved ones. This is the type of fury experienced by many New Orleanians when poorly engineered levees gave way following Katrina.
Three of the play’s characters, each a divinity in itself, correspond to different levels in the development of consciousness: the instinctual level is represented by the Furies; one-sided, rational consciousness by Apollo; and consciousness informed by the innate drive toward wholeness by Athena.
The process of conscious development begins when a child’s budding consciousness must repress instinctual impulses if it is to emerge from the powerful unconscious. At the same time, such repression one-sidedly limits the conscious perspective. This approach tends to persist, as the play’s character Apollo illustrates.
Orestes, the play’s protagonist, complies with Apollo’s demand that he murder his mother in revenge for killing his father. The Furies, intent on exacting blood for his crime of matricide, react by setting upon Orestes and driving him mad. Orestes then seeks Apollo’s help, but, repulsed by the Furies, Apollo rejects them. In Apollo we see how one-sided consciousness strives to repress primal emotions. Think of reactions like “Get over it!” or “Deal with it!” or “What’s wrong with me?”
Yet some emotions cannot be managed this way. Apollo divests Orestes of the Furies’ madness, but, unable to dominate the Furies, he cannot purge Orestes of his guilt. With the energies of the instinctual psyche and rational consciousness at a standstill, the psyche’s energy cannot progress, and Orestes experiences depression.
When Apollo realizes he cannot prevail, he sends Orestes on to Athena; the Furies follow, fiercely unrelenting. In the play’s portrayal of Athena, we see neither a vulnerable, budding consciousness nor a consciousness that is one-sidedly fixed on a rational viewpoint like Apollo’s. Instead, Athena represents conscious awareness that is developed enough to tolerate the expression of primal urges without being overcome. She hears the Furies out, all the while retaining her ability to make distinctions and determine her perspective.
Athena reveals what is necessary to soothe the instinctual psyche’s rage. Her respectful hearing of the Furies reflects the human need for a container within which we can tell our stories. Recounting difficult emotional experiences to friends can sometimes serve this need; at other times, a deeper exploration is required. In the manner of Athena, analysis or therapy can provide a secure container where fury may be eased by giving it expression, by exploring its meaning in an individual’s life, and by considering its impact in terms of consequences and personal values.
Like Athena with the Furies, this vital work calls on us to “speak and let them speak” (James Hillman, The Myth of Analysis). As part of our human nature, instinctual rage cannot be repressed at times. If we allow its contained expression and give it reflective consideration, our fury may be soothed, and more: We may participate in creating a better integrated, more complete personality.
Deedy Young, LCSW, received her diploma from the Inter-Regional Society of Jungian Analysts in 2010. She lives and works in Lafayette, Louisiana.
Poem for New Orleans
Deedy Young
Rising out of lowland swamps
by the Mississippi River’s endless rush of water,
New Orleans reclines in an elemental embrace.
Her cityscape climbs skyward into air so burdened with moisture
the river itself seems bound for heaven.
Beneath her, all around her,
earth, wind, marsh, water
synchronize the city’s heartbeat with natural rhythms
that pulse their way into her music,
Professor Longhair, Dr. John, Neville Brothers, Tipitina’s;
her food, gumbo, crab cakes, catfish courtbouillon, red beans and rice;
her easy street slang, Hey Boo! Ha ya do?
The city’s kinship with nature kindles an affinity with prima materia,
with wildness that’s not rebuffed, but welcomed,
with what’s desirable, and undesirable, dark, and even dangerous.
She holds fast to disquieting knowledge acquired firsthand,
of instincts as both unbounded destructiveness
and the “living fountain of creative impulse;”*
instincts as wounder and healer
that lie, like Hermes’ entwined snakes,
perilously close to one another.
*Jung, C.G., CW VIII, par. 339
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