Mystery or Theory: Book Review of Trauma and the Soul, by Donald Kalsched

As I read Donald Kalsched’s book Trauma and the Soul there were times I felt a deep resonance with my own recently published memoir. Kalsched’s analysis of dissociation with its need to save the split-off soul-child, his decisive stand around the spiritual core of what psychology names the unconscious, and his call which echoes that of C.G. Jung’s for a third world between the worlds of matter and spirit, a transcendent space, are masterfully delivered in this book.

From a theoretical perspective this author has left no stone unturned. His bibliography speaks volumes. Expounding upon the salient developments in psychoanalytic psychotherapy, Kalsched’s analysis includes the thinking of William James, Freud, Jung, Klein, Winnicott, Kohut, Grotstein, and Schore; a list that does not begin to do justice to his interpretations of innumerable contributors to this ever-changing theoretical landscape.

A man of intelligence, compassion, and depth, Kalsched writes, “the soul needs a story, a resonant image that is adequate to its own biography.” In his book he tells stories, he tells his patients’ stories (and for the most part they are women), the story of The Little Prince and of Dante’s journey into the Inferno.

Though I highly recommend this book, particularly for those in the field of depth psychology, but also for victims of trauma in search of recovery, I would add that to my mind Trauma and the Soul offers “a psycho-spiritual approach to human development and its interruption” that reflects the profoundly rational masculine influence of Western thought on psychology.

The cover leaves us with an image. “Blake’s good and evil angels struggling for the possession of a child.” The evil angel is black. The good angel and child are white. All are male.

On what Is Real

 

When I was a little girl I stood on a chair at the kitchen counter and took turns with my mother mashing sugar into softened butter in a large yellow bowl. My mother’s cookies, a staple in our household, were kept in a tin can on top of the refrigerator.

Inside that bowl today the fine lines of tiny cracks and the gray wear of countless spoons against its baked yellow sides tell stories of tenderness and temper.

Jungian analyst, Patricia Damery, in her blog for her fascinating book Farming Soul writes about reality and perception as she refers us to her story of individuation, a deeply spiritual journey. She writes along the liminal edge of truth.

Which got me thinking about how many ways we ask the question, “What is real?” as we move to the edges of our consciousness. In my book In the Tracks of the Unseen I address that question in part around experiences of trauma and memory and dissociation. I write about the urgency that sometimes comes with uncertainty. The spiral descent to knowing.

When Jung was asked if he believed in God he answered that he didn’t believe, he knew.

For me, when I look into my yellow bowl that I now so treasure what is real is the sweet taste of cookie dough and the smiles and tears of a child.