Well Jung

I finished my last library book (a history of McLean hospital) and didn’t have time to look for a new one so had to resort to my own bookshelves. I stock them from time to time with books I find on the cheap that I might want at some point to read.

I picked two books from the trove: Memories, Dreams, Reflections by everyone’s favorite German, C.G. Jung, and For Laci, by Laci Peterson’s mom, which was given to my by my mom, who told me Scott Peterson kind of reminded her of the chickenfucker and has said to me on occasion "Well, at least you didn't end up in the bay like poor Laci."

Now my intention was to read the latter book before bed and the former on the T, so as to impress my train mates, any one of whom could be boyfriend potential. I admit this is juvenile of me and I shouldn’t pretend to be into Jung if I’m not into Jung but it’s been almost two years since I've even snuggled with anyone. And I did buy the Jung book with the intention of one day reading it as opposed to using it to mack on men.

I expected to be really into the For Laci book which, let’s be honest, is a trashy read, and potentially bored and confused by the Jung.

I should also note that I used to work for a woman who published Jungian titles. And she was batshit crazy.

Anyhoo, no one was more surprised than me to discover that the trashy book is a drag while Jung is a real winner! Why, on page twelve we discover that in the first dream he can remember, he’s descending a flight of stone stairs in a hole in the ground, and walking through an archway to find seated at the end of a red carpet on a golden throne what he at first thinks is a really big tree but what turns out to be…

Wait for it…

Wait for it…

A giant Cyclops penis!!!

Damn!

Of course Jung also has very interesting things to say about religion and the nature of human life, which he likens to a bloom on a rhizome. I don’t like him just because of the penis dream.

But it certainly helped get the book off to a good start.