Labyrinths: Emma Jung, Her Marriage to Carl and the Early Years of Psychoanalysis. Catrine Clay
Читать онлайн.| Название | Labyrinths: Emma Jung, Her Marriage to Carl and the Early Years of Psychoanalysis |
|---|---|
| Автор произведения | Catrine Clay |
| Жанр | Биографии и Мемуары |
| Серия | |
| Издательство | Биографии и Мемуары |
| Год выпуска | 0 |
| isbn | 9780007510672 |
William Collins
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London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by William Collins in 2016
Copyright © Catrine Clay 2016
Catrine Clay asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
Cover photograph © Photo Researchers/Mary Evans Picture Library
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Source ISBN: 9780007510689
Ebook Edition © August 2016 ISBN: 9780007510672
Version: 2017-08-24
For Gaby
Mini liebe Cousine und Helferin
Contents
‘Their [marriage] partners can easily lose themselves in such a labyrinthine nature, sometimes in a not very agreeable way, since their sole occupation then consists in tracking the other through all the twists and turns of his character.’
Carl Jung
1
On Saturday 2 March 1907 Carl and Emma Jung arrived in Vienna for a five-day visit. They stayed at the Grand, the city’s most fashionable hotel, just a few minutes’ walk from the Opera and the famous Ringstrasse. Accompanying them was Ludwig Binswanger, an assistant at the Burghölzli lunatic asylum in Zürich, where Carl Jung worked as a doctor and first assistant to the director Eugen Bleuler. At ten the next morning the threesome waited to be collected by Sigmund Freud, who had invited them to Sunday luncheon at his family home, a short walk away at 19 Berggasse. None had met the Herr Professor before, though Jung and Freud had been corresponding for over a year.
Emma Jung was twenty-four, attractive – her wavy brown hair pinned up under a large hat – and very wealthy. But although her outfit was expensive, with its long skirts and furs against the March cold, it was not showy, because Emma herself was not showy. Carl was strikingly good-looking in a Teutonic sort of way – light brown hair, small moustache, dark eyes behind gold-rimmed spectacles, over six foot tall and powerfully built, with an imposing presence: a brilliant and ambitious young man just beginning to make his mark on the new and as yet not very scientific field of ‘Psychoanalysis’, of which Professor Freud, twenty years his senior, was already the acknowledged master. Anyone observing Emma and Carl Jung seated on the plush velvet canapé in the elegant foyer of the Grand Hotel – with its chandeliers, ornate galleries, steam-powered elevator and liveried footmen and porters – would have seen a couple perfectly fitted