Now he never developed the other part of it, that men are two types. That’s where you can find that it is a rationalization. If it was a real insight then the other part, that men are two types, the father type and the lover type…then Jung’s wife needs two! If Jung thinks that he is a lover type, then she needs the father type; if Jung thinks he is a father type, then she needs a lover type. But that he never developed. That’s how you can see it is not an insight; it is just a tricky mind, a rationalization.
We go on rationalizing. We do things unconsciously, we do them without knowing why we are doing them. But we cannot accept the fact: it is very humiliating to accept that, “I have been doing something of which I am not aware and I don’t know why.” Beware of rationalizations.
And how can such people be beneficial to others? It is a well-known fact that many of Carl Jung’s patients committed suicide. Why? They had come to be helped, why did they commit suicide? Something must be basically wrong. His analysis is just lousy. He is a very arrogant man, very egoistic, continuously ready to fight. Maybe his whole psychoanalysis developed only as his arrogance against Sigmund Freud. Maybe it is again just a rationalization, because he himself seems to be suffering from the same problems he is thinking to help others about.
Jung was always afraid of ghosts; even in his old age he was afraid of ghosts. He did not publish his most important book while he was alive because he was afraid that people would come to know the facts. So his memoirs were published, but he made certain that they should be published only when he was dead. Now what type of truth and authenticity is this? He was so much afraid of being found wrong, or in the wrong, that he never allowed any fact to be disclosed about his life while he was alive.
I was reading one anecdote….
A man came to a psychiatrist and proceeded to unfold before the doctor his life story, covering his childhood experiences, his emotional life, his eating habits, his vocational problems, and everything else he could think of. “Well,” said the doctor, “it doesn’t seem to me as though there is anything wrong with you. You seem as sane as I am.”
“But, doctor,” protested the patient, a note of horror creeping into his voice, “it’s these butterflies. I can’t stand them. They’re all over me.”
“For heaven’s sake,” cried the doctor, recoiling, “Don’t brush them off on me!”
The patients and the doctors, all are in the same boat. The psychoanalyst and the analyzed are not very far apart. It is a game. Maybe the psychoanalyst is more clever, but it is not that he knows the reality, because to know the reality you will have to become tremendously conscious; there is no other way. It is not a question of intellectual thinking, it has nothing to do with your philosophizing. To know reality one has to grow into awareness.