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October 17, 2012

Book Review: Pathways to Bliss: Mythology and Personal Transformation, by Joseph Campbell

Filed under: UD:BOOKS — Tags: , , , , , — urbandeva @ 3:04 pm

Book Review:

Pathways to Bliss: Mythology and Personal Transformation

By Rowena Roberts

Part of me doesn’t want to write this review. Not yet. Perhaps in a few months, or in a few years, I’ll feel more able to do this review justice, when I have a fuller grasp of everything this book contains. For the fact is that, Pathways to Bliss is rich in topics, concepts, and philosophies that are relatively new to me. Its contents are broad in scope and deep in meaning, drawn from lectures and interviews that took place over a period of two decades. There is, in short, a lot to take in.

But that’s what I love about reading, after all. That sense of your mind opening, curious, receptive to new and alternative perspectives; pondering different words and possibilities; deciding what can be taken as fuel for your own imagination and ideology, and what can be left for others to pick up. Thus, it is the same richness of content within this book that makes it difficult for me to sum up in a review, which also compels me to write about it now.

At its base, Pathways to Bliss illuminates the common nature of the human experience: that which transcends historical and geographical boundaries and unites us all. Simultaneously, it addresses the individual nature of the human experience, acknowledging that we all have our unique journeys to find, explore, and undertake within this common context: our own highly personal ‘pathways to bliss’.

Bliss, in this context, means fulfilment and satisfaction; a sense of personal certainty, self-awareness, and contentment. It also means much more than this. It is the ultimate, the transcendent experience, the essence of the universe that is held within you. It may even be the meaning of life itself.

“bliss is: that deep sense of being present, of doing what you absolutely must to be yourself… Your bliss can guide you to that transcendent mystery, because bliss is the welling up of the energy of the transcendent wisdom within you.”

Sounds good, doesn’t it? So how do we find it?

A good way to reach your bliss, Campbell believes, is to follow the clues that humanity has historically left along the wayside in the form of myths. Somewhat controversially, he includes religious tales within his definition of mythology, claiming:

“One might reasonably define mythology as other people’s religion. The definition of religion is equally uncomplicated: it is misunderstood mythology. The misunderstanding consists typically in interpreting mythological symbols as though they were references to historical facts.”

Science, Campbell asserts, is effectively demonstrating with ever-more clarity that religions are not based in historical fact. Yet, before the atheists start to celebrate, he still believes that there is truth of another kind to be found in religion — the truth of its symbols, found within its stories. These symbols continue to point to an objective truth: a truth that is not to be found outside ourselves in historical fact, but within ourselves, in our experience of the world at a transcendental level.

“These symbols stem from the psyche; they speak from and to the spirit. And they are in fact the vehicles of communication between the deeper depths of our spiritual life and this relatively thin layer of consciousness by which we govern our daylight existence.”

To back up his argument, Campbell explores and analyses tales from various times and cultures in order to reveal a surprising fact; namely, “One finds the same basic mythological themes in all the religions of the world”. These themes, it seems, have risen independently from the psyche in different parts of the world. They are naturally shaped by local geography and cultures, but the fact that they share basic elements seems to indicate that they are essentially products of — and a necessary part of — the universal human experience.

For millennia, myths have formed the bedrock of human cultures and societies. They help us to understand and interpret the world around us, to give it form and sense. They give us values to live by, rules to follow. They are the knowledge of our ancestors, ready-packaged with lessons in life for us to learn from, and apply to our own personal journeys. But instead of speaking to our logical, factual brain with facts and figures, they speak to our imaginative spirit, our mystery-loving soul, with symbols and images.

And this, Campbell believes, is absolutely necessary if our psyches are to function properly and healthily in the world today. Scientific fact may aid our logical knowledge and awareness of the world and our place within it, but myth aids our psychological development. We may strive for a purely fact-fuelled existence and aim to become atheist, even nihilist beings; but Campbell believes that this simply isn’t enough for our human natures. Despites ourselves, he claims, “the mind goes asking for meanings; it can’t play unless it knows (or makes up) some system of rules”.

Yet there is another stage to myth that goes beyond storytelling and literary awareness. It is not enough to know myths; their physical re-enactment through rites and rituals is what can really help the psyche to transform, cross boundaries and move from one stage of maturity to another in our life cycles. In this way we do not merely know the truths of the world, but feel them, experiencing their transcendental mystery, thus embedding them securely within our own lives.

Whether you’re already familiar with topics such as these, or whether you’re brand spanking new to them but are naturally curious about the great themes of culture and humanity, and how they might relate to your own individual life path, this book deserves a read. Open its pages and, as you do so, open the doors to your conscious mind. See what stories, ideas and impetus for future life experiences step through.

:::

UD: BOOKS

Urban Deva loves books. In fact, we’d go as far as saying we’re obsessed. So, we thought we’d share the love and regularly recommend some of our favourites. We hope you enjoy them too.

August 9, 2012

Book Review: Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal? by Jeanette Winterson

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: , , , , , — urbandeva @ 4:33 pm

Book Review:

Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal? by Jeanette Winterson


By Rowena Roberts

I first read Winterson’s Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit as a teenager; that period characterised by a maelstrom of hormones and confusion; when you’re trying to sort out in your mind who you are from who you’ve always been brought up to be.

It was the ideal time for me to read it ― for two reasons.

Firstly, the main story perfectly exemplifies teenage turmoil and its associated striving for independence. Written with Northern grit and humour, a sense of the absurd woven in amongst tragedy and the mundane, and a smattering of religious melodrama, it is a semi-autobiographical account of an adopted child named Jeanette growing up in a fanatically Pentecostal home in a Lancashire mill town in the ‘60s and ‘70s. This childhood is dominated by a strong-willed, neurotic, and dogmatic mother; a mother who simply cannot cope with the fact that her daughter, destined from her ‘adoptive birth’ to be a missionary, instead discovers ‘forbidden’ love with another girl.

Secondly, the book’s form ― a cyclical, discontinuous narrative that incorporates allegorical fairytales and philosophical discourses alongside the main story ― opened new doors in my mind about the possibilities of storytelling that runs counter to a neat beginning, middle and end, which raises as many questions as it answers, and which somehow drives the point home that every story ever told is but a specific representation of universal themes and truths.

Since Oranges was first published 27 years ago, the exact definition of its ‘semi-autobiographical’ nature has often been speculated over by Winterson’s many nosey readers (myself included) and critics. Now, Jeanette reveals the truth about her childhood, explaining what did happen and what she left out of the novel, in Why Be Happy?, her first book’s “silent twin”.

Or does it?

Yes, her memoir confirms that the ‘real’ Jeanette was adopted; that her mother was indeed domineering and a religious obsessive; that as a child she was an outsider amongst her peers; that she fell in love ― and in bed ― with another girl, was discovered by her disapproving mother and was subsequently denounced and subject to an ‘exorcism’ by the church to which she belonged. It also reveals that there was no such person as “testifying Elsie”, the sympathetic character in Oranges who provides the young Jeanette with friendship and comfort; the reality, it seems, was “much lonelier than that”. It mentions the beatings; being locked out of the house or in the coal cellar overnight; the young Jeanette’s own violent, self-destructive nature that made her lash out at school and deliberately turn friends against her.

And yet, the author won’t allow us to blindly accept that the inclusion of more historical facts in Why Be Happy? means this book is ‘truer’ than Oranges. “Part fiction part fact is what life is,” Jeanette says. “And it is always a cover story… When we tell a story we exercise control, but in such a way as to leave a gap, an opening. It is a version, but never the final one.”

Why Be Happy? is, then, another version of Winterson’s story, written for another reason. Looking back at herself aged 25, when she wrote Oranges, Jeanette reveals, “I wrote my way out.” At that time, she needed to put her life into fiction to take control over it, wresting power away from her domineering mother. “I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t setting my story against hers,” she reflects. Why Be Happy? is written in response to another mother-tumult, which is explored in the second half of the book: the adult Jeanette’s recent search for and discovery of her birth mother.

For me, this book represents coping, on many levels.

Thematically, it reveals how language and literature always helped Jeanette to cope over the years. As a teenager, she read voraciously: “The more I read, the more I felt connected across time to other lives and deeper sympathies. I felt less isolated.” In later life, when she experiences a nervous breakdown and unsuccessfully attempts suicide, it is writing a children’s book for the “lost child” inside of her that brings her back from the brink. “Creativity is on the side of health,” she decides, “it isn’t the thing that drives us mad; it is the capacity in us that tries to save us from madness.”

This book, therefore, is not merely about coping; it is in itself an act of coping. It is not the book that Oranges was: a balanced work of art, an act of control over the author’s story and life. Although more mature, it also feels rougher, more confused, disjointed ― and understandably so. For this book is part of Jeanette’s self-prescribed therapy for her self-confessed period of “madness” that heralded her nervous breakdown; it is part of her journey towards control. “When I began this book I had no idea how it would turn out,” she confesses. “I was writing in real time. I was writing the past and discovering the future.” And, most importantly, she admits: “I have no idea what happens next.”

Why Be Happy? is not about resolution ― the author does not seem to have reached that point yet. When she speaks about her depressive, adoptive mother, referred to distantly as “Mrs Winterson”, her words are definite, dramatic and full of decision: “She was her own black hole that pulled in all the light.” Conversely, when speaking of her newly discovered birth mother, her words are light, tentative, lacking judgement; she cannot commit to the same depth or certainty of feeling. “All I can say,” she reveals, “is that I am pleased ― that is the right word ― that my mother is safe.” The conflict of being reunited with someone who is at once her mother and a stranger, who both gave her life and denied her a life, is raw and clear. “I don’t blame her and I am glad she made the choice she made. Clearly I am furious about it too. I have to hold these things together and feel them both/all.”

No, this book is not about resolution, not yet. Instead, it is about evolution. Once more, Jeanette is revisiting her past in order to deal with her present and give meaning to her future ― because, as she puts it, “events separated by years lie side by side imaginatively and emotionally”. We are all, as Jeanette says, “meaning-seeking creatures”, using language and stories to take events out of linear time and place them within an emotional and psychological context that helps us to comprehend them.

After all, isn’t every story ever told but a specific representation of universal themes and truths? A version, but never the final one? Or is that simply the central ‘truth’ that I have chosen to assign to this book?

Read it for yourself. Perhaps you’ll find a different truth.

:::

UD: BOOKS

Urban Deva loves books. In fact, we’d go as far to say we’re obsessed. So we thought we’d share the love and regularly recommend some of our favourites. We hope you enjoy them too.

May 23, 2012

Book Review: Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking, by Susan Cain

Filed under: UD:BOOKS — Tags: , , , , , — urbandeva @ 1:03 pm

Book Review:

Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking, by Susan Cain

By Rowena Roberts

I will confess up front that I first approached this book with some suspicion.

A book championing the merits of introverts could well be, I decided, one of those dreaded versions of self-help books that relies on hyped-up rhetoric and generalisation in order to drive home an over-simplified, hyper-positive message; something along the lines of: “You are a wonderful human being ― better than those nasty loud extroverts. Repeat this mantra (quietly, of course) every day for a more fulfilling life. Hurrah!”

It would be all too easy for such a book to polarise the issues, assigning all people to one or other end of a personality yardstick, where all introverts are white and all extroverts are black, resolutely ignoring the individual shades of greys in-between. Besides, my suspicions reminded me, the author is American. What could someone from the world’s most gung-ho and outspoken nation possibly have to tell us about introversion?

That will teach me to indulge in casual racism. Or perhaps my casual racism was merely misplaced, since being part of a “nation of extroverts” (Cain’s words) seems to give the author extra motivation to reveal and appreciate the quieter benefits of introversion.

At any rate, my fears were allayed before I had even finished the introduction to Quiet, in which Cain tackles the complexity of the introvert/extrovert classification. She unmasks ‘closet introverts’ who hide their introvert tendencies behind more outgoing personas, thereby fooling many into believing that they are extroverts through and through, when, in truth, they are far more comfortable out of the limelight. All introverts, she acknowledges, are not the same. Yet, there are certain traits ― preferences, fears, desires, reactions ― that can be classified as introvert, and are shared at the deepest level of innate character by many people. I recognise them well, for I am one of them. And so is Susan Cain.

Quiet is a balanced, considered, and well-researched approach to the topic of introversion: what it is, what it might entail, how it is historically and culturally perceived and valued (or not), its relative and practical pitfalls and merits. Susan’s writing style is appealing and engaging: intelligent, yet informal, balancing anecdotal narrative and personal belief with factual reportage and scientific research. She makes us feel as though we are with her on her journey of exploration, researching and experiencing the distinct but interrelated worlds of biology, psychology, religion, business, education, culture, and family.

We look at history, observing a societal shift over the past century from a culture of character (serious, disciplined, honourable, sometimes uptight, and inhibited) to a culture of personality (bold, performance-based, entertaining, sometimes fake, and brash). This is American history, of course, but who could deny the influence of 20th-century American culture on the world?

We look at physiology, discovering observed links between introversion and a highly reactive organ called the amygdala within the brain. We learn that descriptions such as ‘thick-skinned’ and the concept of ‘cool’ go beyond metaphor: introverts have apparently been shown to sweat more than extroverts. Sociopaths are ultra-cool. Alcohol is cool. Here, have a glass of extroversion.

We follow Susan into a self-help seminar run by a dynamic extrovert who promises to ‘unleash the power within’; into a world-famous business school, where socialising is ‘an extreme sport’; into an evangelical church that makes its members feel, ‘If you don’t love Jesus out loud, then it must not be real love’. Extroversion, it seems, is expected and favoured in practically every social arena. Job advertisements for office workers and priests alike stipulate the need for ‘team workers’, while group work is now an essential part of the primary school curriculum. In a world where fear of public speaking is now considered to be a disease, introverts are encouraged to feel shame for their antisocial tendencies, and preferably change their ways.

Personally, I believe it’s not always a bad thing to learn how to deal with situations that challenge innate introvert tendencies. I’ve gained a great sense of power and freedom by facing some of my classically introvert fears, and realising what I’m capable of achieving ― enjoying, even ― when I step out of my comfort zone. But I also welcome Cain’s assertion that the natural talents of introverts should likewise be appreciated and valued within society, and extroverts encouraged to respect and develop these traits, too.

For example, any graduate recruitment departments currently championing presentation, interviewing, and teamwork skills over academic achievement may want to take particular note of Cain’s chapter on the ‘myth of charismatic leadership’. Here she points out that not just some, but many of the most successful leaders across societies and businesses have in fact been introverts, from Gandhi to Bill Gates. She reveals the misgivings of a business tutor, who acknowledges that his extrovert students are “very good at getting their way. But that doesn’t mean they’re going the right way”. And she looks at the global financial crisis, in which “Too much power was concentrated in the hands of aggressive risk-takers”, whose decisions were ‘proved right’ in the short-term, so were rewarded and encouraged, only for the cautious, undervalued naysayers to be truly proved right in the longer term, once risks stopped paying off and economies crashed.

Yet, it’s not all woe and despair for extroverts. We learn that, while introverts can be more receptive to the ideas of others, extroverts can be more inspirational, and that work-groups in psychological studies thrive best when the talents of both introverts and extroverts are put to good use. On a more personal level, Cain admits that, when surrounded by introverts, she can’t help but miss the ‘cool’ people.

Quiet urges us to give a place in our varied social spheres to every type of person; to listen as well as talk; to value careful preparation as well as gregarious spontaneity; to encourage quiet reflection as well as social interaction. I can’t help but like its message. Perhaps that’s because I’m an introvert. Or perhaps it’s self-evident that the world needs balance in order to survive, and people need mutual respect in order to thrive.

Either way, I challenge introverts and extroverts alike not to appreciate the witty wisdom of Susan’s assertion that, “The secret to life is to put yourself in the right lighting. For some, it’s a Broadway spotlight; for others, a lamplit desk”. As a writer, I naturally choose the desk.

How about you?

:::

UD: BOOKS

Urban Deva loves books. In fact, we’d go as far to say we’re obsessed. So we thought we’d share the love and regularly recommend some of our favourites. We hope you enjoy them too.


March 28, 2012

Book Review: The Angel of the Stories

Filed under: Book Review,UD:BOOKS — Tags: , , , , , — urbandeva @ 1:16 pm

Book Review:

The Angel of the Stories

Many believe that humanity’s most important invention was the wheel: a Neolithic stroke of genius that literally took a heavy burden off our backs and paved the way for many more technological developments, from water-wheels to jet engines. Others award antibiotics the top spot, for saving millions of people from the near certainty of an early death caused by infectious diseases. And I’ve also heard a pretty convincing case made for the particular manufacturing process that turns cacao beans into that masterpiece of culinary consumption: chocolate.

But, for me, humanity’s most important and wonderful invention has always been the conception and creation of stories.

Tell someone a fact and it might hang around in the brain long enough to be regurgitated on an upcoming exam paper, or to rear its head at random during a pub quiz some day. But give that fact some context ― characters, physical surroundings, emotions, adventures and, most of all, meaning ― and it can stay with you forever, if it resonates with a particular universal truth that you hold dear.

John Simmons is a copywriter who spends a large chunk of his time educating people in the art of writing more effectively for business. He does this not by jumping on the latest marketing buzzwords, or telling people to use shorter sentences. Instead, he encourages businesses to be a little more human in their approach to communication: to allow space for creativity, imagination and connection. To seek out, and tell, the stories within their worlds.

Although he’s written plenty of books about his work, The Angel of the Stories is John’s first venture into fiction. Inspired by a challenge set on one of his own writing courses, he strayed into the world of magical realism, and clearly found it a pleasant place in which to linger for a while.

This book is a story containing stories, and about the telling of stories. It started life in a fragmented way, as individual short tales based in a sleepy Spanish valley among the startlingly all-white houses of an imaginary Andalucian town.

Then the angel of the stories was born: Julia Buendia Allone, a shy, gentle and unassuming heroine; a solitary, self-obsessed writer who discovers that her stories only begin to flow once she sprouts a beautiful set of angel wings and escapes her lonely room to observe, meet and finally connect with other people. For, as we are indirectly reminded later in the book: “Experiences add colour to your life… If they don’t come, you need to seek them out.”

It’s a simple message, as is the essence of many stories, wrapped up in a soft, dreamlike world that is gently appealing. This dreamy quality is helped in no small part by the illustrations of artist Anita Klein, which are included in the printed book (although sadly not in the far cheaper Kindle version). Her paintings of an angel are full of contemplation, colour and compassion, somehow mirroring the quirky, peaceful optimism that flows from the book’s pages.

There are other characters, too, all with their own stories, quirks and roles to play within the book, and within their little community. There’s Rosa, the lady of the plates, and Kouros, the baker of Apollones and Elenas. There’s the Norwegian painter, who specialises in the unique art of blancismo, and the Mayor, who secretly yearns to introduce some other colour into his all-white painted town. And there’s the musician, Alfredo, who turns the words of a dead poet into a song sung by an angel, which unites the town and brings their stories and lives together.

Etched in kind words and a little bit of pomegranate juice, this is above all a story of quiet observation, of people and their ordinary, magical lives, and of an inclusive world-view that is simply too heart-warming for you to want to dismiss. For how could we survive without each other? And who, in the end, could bear to distance themselves from humanity by denying that we are, like Julia’s name, “all one”?

Rowena Roberts

UD: BOOKS

Urban Deva loves books. In fact, we’d go as far to say we’re obsessed. So we thought we’d share the love and regularly recommend some of our favourites. We hope you enjoy them too.

March 11, 2012

Book Review: Religion for Atheists by Alain de Botton

Filed under: UD:BOOKS — Tags: , , , , , — urbandeva @ 12:42 am

Book Review:
Religion for Atheists by Alain de Botton


When I was eleven years old, a Catholic cousin of mine challenged me to consider why I celebrated Christmas if I didn’t believe in God. I was happy to explain the joys of having time officially set aside in my annual calendar to eat, drink, chat, sing, exchange gifts, and party with close friends and family, celebrating love, life, and relationships during an otherwise cold and dark season. And, beyond my personal circle of experience, to witness the unusual feel-good factor and humanitarian impulses that spread throughout whole communities across the globe at this time each year.

Still, even after my explanations, I was left with the uneasy sensation that I was cheating in some way, joining in with something I didn’t have a right to.

If only I’d known back then about Pagan celebrations of the winter solstice; because what Alain de Botton suggests atheists do in his latest book, Religion for Atheists, is no more than what religions have done multiple times in the past — i.e. steal what they consider to be good and valuable ideas from other belief systems and appropriate them into their own traditions.

If you weren’t already convinced by the title, the fact that this is definitely a book for atheists is made crystal clear in its second paragraph, as De Botton says: “let us bluntly state that of course no religions are true in any God-given sense.” You can’t get much clearer than that.

Yet, De Botton recognises not all atheists may be fully satisfied by a way and ethos of life that champions sceptical thought above all other aspects of humanity. His book speaks to, and for, people who are not merely and completely rationalists, but who hunger for something they feel is lost to them once religion is denied.

As someone who’s drifted between agnosticism and atheism all her life, I’ve sometimes felt envious of people with religious faith. Some of it seemed boring, prescriptive, and presented as fact things I couldn’t bring myself to accept as anything more than stories and metaphors. On the other hand, how reassuring to have their certainty of belief — and how wonderful to be able to share your belief and celebrate it with others via enjoyable and meaningful rituals: singing uplifting hymns, reciting calming chants, and reflecting on human issues within beautiful communal buildings; bringing depth to promises and intentions through symbolic gestures, such as meditation and lighting candles; uniting with friends, family, even complete strangers over meals and during festivals.

De Botton makes us consider: would religion have been as successful as it has been if it purely addressed a rational desire for knowledge and meaning, without satisfying other human cravings? Or do we in fact have a ‘soul’ that may not be God-given, but still thrives upon mystery and wisdom, symbolism and beauty; consolation, kindness, and a shared humanity? And, if so, what can we take from religion that will satisfy the urges of our human soul without necessitating unquestioning belief in an omniscient creator?

Religion for Atheists puts forward some suggestions. Many — such as multidisciplinary courses exploring humanitarian themes, community restaurants that encourage strangers to break bread and explore emotional issues, art that is more revelatory about its universal themes and meanings — cannot help but intrigue and appeal.

Admittedly, some ideas might not work for everyone. For example, encouraging universities to abandon dry, stuffy lectures in favour of ‘call and response’ Pentecostal chanting in order to make their lectures sink in, didn’t sit well with me. Setting aside the fact De Bottons’s tongue is probably slightly in cheek here, he is ignoring the fact that education is not just about instilling ‘truths’ into people, especially at university level. Encouraging more inspiring and creative methods of study and instruction is one thing, but not at the expense of encouraging students to question, challenge, analyse, test, and argue in order to come to new understandings and make new discoveries.

De Botton’s book is not exactly what I expected. It seems anecdotal rather than assessed. There is research behind what he purports, but it doesn’t seem comprehensive; there are ideas, but no defined philosophy or beliefs. And it’s hard to make a community out of non-belief.

Instead, what we find is a gentle and appealing meander through De Botton’s mind as he wonders aloud the possibilities of purloining from the faiths. Nothing feels completely set for a new faith, principle, doctrine, or leadership. Rather, we are encouraged to wonder alike, brainstorm, and perhaps feel inspired to further ideas we’ve already been harbouring as to how and why we can bring more depth, ritual, symbolism, and unity into our individualised, secular lives.

Rowena Roberts

:::

UD: BOOKS

Urban Deva loves books. In fact, we’d go as far to say we’re obsessed. So we thought we’d share the love and regularly recommend some of our favourites. We hope you enjoy them too.


February 5, 2012

Book Review: Gods in Everyman by Dr Jean Shinoda Bolen

Filed under: UD:BOOKS — Tags: , , , , , , — urbandeva @ 1:26 pm

Book Review:

Gods in Everyman by Dr Jean Shinoda Bolen

Well, we’ve dealt with the female deities, so it seems only fair that we move on to the male.

Not that this book is exclusively for men, any more than Goddesses in Everywoman was exclusively for women. As Bolen herself puts it in her preface:

‘When I speak about gods in Everyman [sic], I discover that women often find that a particular god exists in them as well, just as I found that when I spoke about goddesses men could identify a part of themselves with a specific goddess. Gods and goddesses represent different qualities in the human psyche. The pantheon of Greek deities together, male and female, exist as archetypes in us all, although the gods are usually the strongest and most influential determinants of a man’s personality, as the goddesses are for women.’

Gods in Everyman: Archetypes That Shape Men’s Lives was published in 1989, four years after Jean’s book on goddesses. If you’ve read the latter ― or at least read my review on it ― you’ll recognise in the former the same psychological device of using myths that have endured over centuries to express and understand archetypes: patterns of behaviour that are common to all humans.

In the sequel, men (and women) are encouraged to explore different aspects of their personalities represented by several god figures: Zeus, the powerful, ruthless patriarch; intense Poseidon, ruled by turbulent waves of emotion; Hades, the mysterious introvert whose still waters run infinitely deep; the favoured son Apollo, logical, self-motivated and emotionally distant; charming, eloquent Hermes, the spontaneous adventurer and trickster; passionate Ares, the fierce lover and fighter; soulful Hephaestus, the absorbed, wounded creator; and Dionysus, the attractive, sensual ecstatic, ruled by intense instinctive highs and lows.

Through such knowledge, Bolen’s readers may again find greater control over unconscious patterns of behaviour hidden within themselves via various ‘Aha!’ moments of self-recognition.

I’ve enjoyed the insights both fully gleaned and half-spied in both of Bolen’s books on this fascinating subject, and know that I shall return to them time and time again for further psychological insight at future times of need, or simple curiosity.

But, while reading Gods, an unexpected ‘Aha!’ moment came that wasn’t a realisation about my personality, or someone else’s character, but concerned something broader about society that has niggled at me for years.

For, while I like to think of myself as an independent and enlightened woman, ready to stand up for my position and that of others against negative cultural and sexual stereotyping, I’ve always steered clear of labelling myself a feminist. Perhaps I missed the main drive of the movement, having been privileged enough not to have had to personally fight for my political rights as I grew up. Perhaps it’s in my Persephone nature to sit on the fence, to argue both sides, to withdraw from outright commitment, to live in the world of grey rather than choose to be black or white.

But, then again, perhaps it’s because I hate debates where some people seem to automatically polarise everyone into one camp or another, solely by virtue of their gender. Perhaps I feel the frustration of men who say, ‘But we’re not all like that.’ Perhaps I felt, but never had the right words to express what Jean says so simply:

‘In a patriarchal society, women do not fare well. But male stereotypes also hold power over men, limiting who they can comfortably be by rewarding some qualities and rejecting others.’

Perhaps this is a remarkably facile revelation to have. But then, isn’t that the beauty of revelation? When something that’s been churning around in the white noise of your brain for years suddenly clicks into place, shudders into focus as the right words reverberate in your head for the first time and you realise that this, for you, is the simple truth that you’ve sensed all along.

Sure, my moments of ‘Aha’ won’t ring true for everyone. But then, if Jean Shinoda Bolen’s books tell us anything, it’s that we’re all different. Even though, united in the enduring archetypes of humanity, we’re also fundamentally the same.

Rowena Roberts

:::

UD:BOOKS

Urban Deva loves books. In fact, we’d go as far to say we’re obsessed. So we thought it’d be a good idea to share the love and regularly recommend some of our favourites. We hope you enjoy them too.

October 19, 2011

Book Review: Goddesses in Everywoman by Dr Jean Shinoda Bolen

Filed under: Book Review,UD:BOOKS — Tags: , , , , , , , , , — urbandeva @ 8:12 pm

Book Review:

Goddesses in Everywoman by Dr Jean Shinoda Bolen

I picked this book up because I believe in the power of stories.

As a lifelong bookworm, I know their power to fire the imagination and feed me awareness and understanding of people and worlds beyond my own experience. As an advertising copywriter, I also know their power to help brands gain customers’ interest, loyalty and (yes) cash ― and perhaps create a more imaginative, creative, and stimulating working environment for their employees.

But the notion that certain stories, when properly analysed and applied, could have the power to help me better understand, handle, and help my self? Now, this was intriguing.

Goddesses in Everywoman: Powerful Archetypes in Women’s Lives explains complex theories of Jungian depth psychology in simple terms that the layman (or woman) can understand. At its core, it is a book about archetypes, which ― according to Carl Jung ― are innate psychic dispositions that can influence and explain universal patterns of behaviour, common to all humans. Such patterns are usually hidden within the unconscious; only by recognising them consciously via some kind of psychological breakthrough can we understand motivations and habits that influence us, and perhaps keep us trapped in a certain cycle of behaviour.

The author, Dr Jean Shinoda Bolen, discovered during her work as a psychiatrist and analyst that using figures from Greek mythology to personify these archetypes helped some of her clients achieve this moment of breakthrough ― or “Aha!” as she terms it ― when what was unconscious becomes conscious and can therefore be tackled.

Her straightforward analysis of myths that have endured over thousands of years reveals patterns of behaviour and character traits that we can still recognise, identify with, and learn from today, realising as we do the eternal truth that we are human, and therefore we are not alone in what we feel.

Bolen’s approach may be simple, but her analysis is far from simplistic. Each goddess analysed in the book is a pattern, not a personality; the author explains how an individual may contain many goddesses, some of which may dominate ― or ‘become active’ ― during different life phases, events, even times of the month.

Bolen also challenges traditional Jungian thought that polarised archetypes into masculine and feminine attributes, which were often regarded as out of place in the opposite sex. Bolen’s approach is more holistic and less stereotypical, seeing goddesses ― and indeed gods ― in both women and men.

I experienced many moments of “Aha!” during the course of this book. For there, entwined in the myths of Athena, was my grandmother: practical, efficient, keen on crafts and good with her hands, but not so good with her heart; a critical and disappointed mother who focused on failure rather than nurture. And there was my closest school-friend, a classic Demeter-type whose desire to be a mother was already deep-rooted when we first met, at the age of 11. There was my Artemis great-aunt, independent of spirit, protector of the young, traveller, and lover of just causes.

And, of course, there was me in my 20s, stuck in the cycle of eager-to-please, quick-to-deceive Persephone, swept up by the desires of others, rather than her own, so greatly did she fear disapproval and dislike. That was a pattern that took me a while to acknowledge, and try to overcome.

Still, this is not a book that wags the finger accusingly; rather, it seeks to give the reader hope. For among our ‘goddess-given liabilities’ also lie ‘goddess-given gifts’, which we can discover and nurture, and even use to challenge society’s stereotypes from a point of inner certainty and truth ― stereotypes that might otherwise stop us from being the best we can be.

In this way, Bolen believes our inner goddesses can help us to live our own personal myths, empowering us with “the possibilities of finding personal meaning through choices others might not encourage.”

I could quote this book all day. But then you might not read it for yourself. And you really should, if you have any interest at all in discovering more about yourself and about others, female and male.

It’s an interesting story, after all; one that continues to endure across thousands of years: the story of humanity.

Rowena Roberts

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UD:BOOKS

Urban Deva loves books. In fact, we’d go as far to say we’re obsessed. So we thought it’d be a good idea to share the love and regularly recommend some of our favourite books.

We’d also like to take this opportunity to thank Rowena Roberts for doing such a stellar job of our first official book review, and look forward to sharing more of her thought-provoking finds with you.

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