Mything Motherhood

The reason I’ve been offline for awhile is, perhaps not coincidentally, the same thing that I’m working on now: motherhood. My daughter’s birthday, marking her early mid-single digit years, isn’t too far away. Meanwhile, I’ve felt compelled to work on a couple research projects that explore motherhood from a mythic perspective. I’ve done the rumination about motherhood from a cultural perspective, and it really isn’t helping. My experience has led me to conclude that American culture, for the most part, fundamentally hates mothers and children. We’ve turned pregnancy and birth into a medical condition. We no longer provide a reliable, affordable system that allows mothers to stay at home with their tiny children. For those fortunate enough to stay at home for the first years before school, we make it impossible for her to either find self-family balance and/or to return to the workforce. And think of it: how many of our celebrated pop culture warrior she-roes aren’t actually mothers. (Someday I’ll share my thoughts on why revering Wonder Woman is actually not helping).

My own journey into motherhood certainly hasn’t been easy, but that’s a story for a completely different forum. What’s brought me into the work is the fact that the myth of Demeter and Persephone keeps making a return. I explored Persephone during my first myth class at Pacifica with Christine Downing. I explored Persephone again a couple years late in a film class at Pacifica with Ginette Paris. Demeter and Persephone recently came up when I wrote a guest blog on Carol Pearson’s blog, and I’ve taught the myth a couple of times when applicable in my classes. But it wasn’t until my most recent rereading of the Homeric Hymn that I finally realized…I had the wrong perspective about Persephone.

Neil Gaiman mentioned in his piece, “What the [Very Bad Swearword] is a Children’s Book, Anyway?” (included in his excellent collection, View from the Cheap Seats, which I highly recommend to anyone who calls herself a writer), that a well-written kids book will reveal more (especially about sex) as the reader ages and becomes more experienced. I’ve long identified with Persephone, but it wasn’t until I started relating to Demeter that I was better able to recognize that additional layer of the story that Gaiman describes. I also read Ovid’s version for the first time immediately after the Homeric Hymn, reinforcing that this story is definitely more complex than I’d realized.

So here’s what I’m working on: I’ve taken a fascination recently in the moment that a girl shifts from embodying the archetypal energies of Persephone  into a woman embracing those of Demeter. It’s not a matter of biology, as Joseph Campbell would have be believe–I don’t have the citation handy, but he once mentioned that girls enter womanhood as a matter of biology. Just because a woman has a baby, doesn’t make her a mother. Some women remain stunted as Persephone mothers, and I blame this perspective on a culture that refuses to allow a woman to age. Rather, a culture that refuses to allow women to have an archetypal container through middle age.

This is what makes Demeter’s story so attractive, as well described by my wonderful friend, Rebekah Lovejoy, in a guest blog on Carol Pearson’s website. I’ve reached the front end of middle age, and I find myself distancing further away from my youth. I currently have a job that mostly resembles stable, and I’m a mother. A working mother. An early, middle-aged working mother.

I hear the call of Demeter and her mysteries of womanhood. And she is telling me to write.


Persephone got legs

Several years ago, as a fresh graduate student at Pacifica Graduate Institute, I wrote a paper about Persephone, interpreting her story less as a mother’s loss for an abducted child, and more as a teenager’s rebellion for the sake of identity formation. My thinking hinges on the very tiny detail that if Persephone really wanted to leave the Underworld and return to her mother, then why did she capitulate and eat pomegranate seeds? Sure, you could say it was because she was hungry, but determined women are rarely bothered by minor inconveniences as hunger. I think that Hades made her an offer she couldn’t refuse. Notice, after all, that the story is written from Demeter’s perspective. The only perspective we get of Persephone’s experience is when she is crying to her mother. Do we really think that she’s telling her mother the whole truth? She didn’t even want to reveal that she ate the pomegranate. Let’s pretend that Persephone donned a leather jacket and jumped onto the back of Hades’ motorcycle early one morning. Of course, her mother would see it as an abduction. The little snot didn’t even say goodbye.

Anyway, the other day I was watching Disney’s The Little Mermaid. I work from home, and don’t have daycare, so my daughter and I watch a LOT of Disney Junior (far more than I’d like). When they broadcast a movie that gives me some relief from Mickey Mouse Clubhouse or Doc MacStuffins that takes me to my Laughing Place, then I’m all for it.

Perhaps it’s because this time I watched the movie as a mother, or perhaps it’s because I’ve been recently giving new consideration to the Princess phenomenon, but I just happened to see Persephone in Ariel, only in reverse–Ariel wants to leave the Underworld for the human world, not the other way around. She wanted to shed her goddess powers (as a mermaid) so she could walk and dance. She, too, made a defiant departure from her father. She felt restricted and confined. He wouldn’t even allow her to dream about the human world. So she left. And got a pair of legs.

The story is far more complex, with a sea witch and losing her voice and such. But the point of any mythic story is that we put our own spin on the details, but the basic structure carries from version to version. Stories such as The Little Mermaid help answer the question of Persephone’s story–just what was her experience while she was gone? Disney’s version tells this story to a modern audience, with Ariel experiencing many of the same growing pains as the American teenager. Even 25 years after its initial release, The Little Mermaid continues to tell the story of the American teenager who is trying to separate herself from parental control and become her own woman. (I’ll save the Eric bit, and the leaving home for a boy bit, for another conversation.)

True Love’s Kiss is today’s pomegranate. It’s a literary symbol that symbolizes union with someone or something else other than a parent, the divine marriage, a key step in the Individuation process. Regardless of what one things about love in the real world, the symbolic marriage in literature and myth speaks on a psychological level, helps elevate the inner reaches of psyche to a conscious level, leading to wholeness.

I contend that Persephone, and Ariel, had to leave. Without the departure, a daughter can’t become her own woman. Disney’s Rapunzel and Pixar’s Brave both illustrate the problems of an over-bearing mother on a girl’s identity formation. Sometimes, it comes with sacrifice, like trading fins for legs, but often, as The Little Mermaid II demonstrates, it doesn’t mean forever.

Persephone versus Anti-Persephone in MirrorMask

The film is the 2005 collaboration, MirrorMask, between fantasy writer Neil Gaiman and artist Dave McKean. The story follows Helena, a teenager and daughter of circus performers, who, after her mother falls ill, journeys into the world she has unintentionally created in her drawings to find that the Queen of the Light has fallen into a deep sleep and cannot be awoken without the charm. Helena volunteers to find the charm, and her quest leads her into the Kingdom of Shadow, whose princess has just run away. The charm, the MirrorMask, helped the princess to leave the world entirely and switch places with Helena. Knowing that Helena may eventually find the mask, she slowly destroys the drawings hoping to prevent Helena’s return. Helena outsmarts her, and returns home to a happy ending with her parents.

The archetype present in this film is the mother/daughter relationship between Demeter and Persephone, as told in the Homeric Hymn to Demeter. I propose an alternative reading of this myth that implies that Persephone’s abduction was not entirely a plot by Zeus and Hades, but, rather, an opportunity for Persephone to gain independence away from her mother. Under this reading, Persephone’s grief at being separated from her mother was exaggerated to appease her mother, and that she knew with certainty what it would mean for her to eat the pomegranate seeds on her way out of Hades. This reading hinges entirely on a Jungian interpretation as a myth of individuation. The only other evidence that suggests that Persephone’s story was not a simple abduction and rape is that there is no concrete evidence of a child between Hades and Persephone. Myths involving sexual intercourse between a god or goddess often include the birth of a child.

One other central theme to the film is the concept of the shadow. Helena’s adventure is plagued by the chaos left by the princess, identified in the script as Anti-Helena. Similarly, the queens of the Kingdom of Light and the Kingdom of Shadows are both sides of Helena’s perspective of her mother. Helena’s journey involves exploring both sides of her dream world and reaching an understanding that the two sides of her mother (kindly versus possessive) are out of love for her. In order for Helena to succeed on her mission, she has to confront her own shadow self, Anti-Helena, with the MirrorMask and reflect her back into the realm of her psyche in which she belongs.

The shadow is an important theme in Neil Gaiman’s stories, especially to the extent that one must both confront and integrate with one shadow, otherwise one’s personally balance is disrupted in a bad way. In this film, the balance is disrupted with a complete teeter-totter and the shadow lives in the conscious realm, and the ego is forced to live in the unconscious. The unconscious is slowly destroyed in the film by Anti-Helena as she destroys Helena’s drawings. The possibility exists of Anti-Helena’s balance as long as she learns how to better relate to her mother, which is the exact thing Helena has to learn in her own life.

Intro, 0.44-4.54 minutes

This scene establishes the relationship between Helena (Persephone) and her mother (Demeter), and how her mother’s love and worry for her daughter will induce to her do whatever is necessary to find her. Helena, on the other hand, reveals her feelings and desire to get out of the circus. The circus represents the garden of the gods. It is removed from “reality” in a contained fashion. As Helena cries out that she wants to leave this “garden,” her mother remarks that she could not handle “real life.” This scene also establishes the theme of the shadow, as depicted in Helena’s sock puppets playing against each other.

After the end of this scene, Helena’s mother falls ill and is rushed to the hospital to have surgery. This is parallel to Demeter’s distraction when Persephone goes off to pick flowers.

Descent into the Underworld, 20.09-24.34 minutes

In this scene, Helena is lured by some late night violin playing, and is pushed through the door by Valentine, a juggler, trying to escape some deadly black stuff. Valentine represents both Hades and Hermes throughout the movie, but mostly Hades in this scene. He is the one who forces Helena into the dream world and becomes her consort throughout her adventure.

Once through the door, Helena encounters a sphinx, which, much like the Sphinx that guarded the gateway into Thebes in Oedipus the King, represents a threshold guardian between the conscious/unconscious, living/dream, or rational thought/primordial thought. Rather than answer a riddle, however, Helena has to feed him a book. Then she can proceed fully into the underworld.

After the end of this scene, Helena realized that there is a Kingdom of Light, whose queen is sleeping and can only wake with the help of the charm, and a Kingdom of Shadow, whose princess ran away using said charm, the MirrorMask, and who bears strong resemblance to Helena.

Light versus Shadow, 37.17-38.53 Minutes

I wanted to include this scene because it sets up the idea of the shadow, but otherwise has nothing to do with the Demeter/Persephone story.

Following this scene, Helena continues on her journey and winds up in the clutches of the Queen of Shadows, who is really angry that her daughter ran away and really just wants her home.

The Dark Palace, 1:10.27-1:11.39 & 1:19.51-1:20.59 Minutes

This scene shows the extent of the Queen of Shadows’ longing for her daughter, to the point that she will accept Helena as a substitute, giving her full power and benefit of the princess. Helena is transformed into a copy of Anti-Helena, much like how Demeter placed the baby into the fire to make it immortal. Although we see her at the dinner table and talking about food, we never see Helena actually eat, suggesting that she will be able to return home. Helena reminds the Queen that the chaos in the world is caused by Anti-Helena, just like the personal chaos Demeter experienced after Persephone left her.

Meanwhile, Valentine, who all this time has lead Helena around her dream world, returns to take Helena home to the upper world, fulfilling his Hermes role.

The Return and Homecoming, 1:32.10-1:34.45 & 1:36-28-1:38.02 Minutes

Valentine and Helena find the MirrorMask in the Princess’s bedroom and run away from the Queen. When they get to the threshold, Valentine almost keeps her in the underworld (feeding her pomegranate seeds) by keeping the mask for himself. Helena returns to her correct world by integrating Anti-Helena back into her psyche and the world is right again. Her mother wakes up, the two are reunited, and they live happily ever after. Helena now has a better appreciation for her mother.

Persephone: Queen of Individuation

The Homeric "Hymn to Demeter" is one of the oldest, primary sources for the Demeter and Persephone myth. This myth tells of the separation of a mother and daughter through a supposed abduction and rape of the daughter and the mother’s suffering for her loss. Because the Homeric Hymn is from Demeter’s perspective, much emphasis has been placed on the pains of her separation with Persephone’s story to be understood only through the story she tells her mother upon their reunion. Persephone’s half of the story is as much compelling as that of her mother’s because her myth is one of individuation for young women and, in the broader sense, as a myth for exploring the shadow. A mother’s pain of separation from her daughter is a crucial myth, but modern Persephones are faced with similar growing pains in the need to leave their mother. The task is, by no means, easy, but it is necessary in order for a woman to achieve self-actualization and potentially grow into a mother herself.

Individuation and the Hero’s Journey

Individuation is understood to be the process by which one becomes an individual and achieves self-actualization (Jung 275). The Western individuation process is linked closely with the mythological hero’s journey, which, as outlined by Joseph Campbell in The Hero with a Thousand Faces, provides a road map for finding the boon of the Self under the guise of the adventure narrative story structure. I avoid the phrase "heroine’s journey" out of personal preference because the different phrase implies to me a different outcome, whereas I believe the goal of all modes of the hero’s journey are fundamentally the same, differing only by methodology. There are two facets to this journey: the masculine and the feminine. The masculine journey is one of questioning and seeking rituals and boons outside the frame of and individual’s reference, exemplified by heroes who quest in the unknown and having a great adventure. One modern example of this type is J.R.R. Tolkien’s epic, The Lord of the Rings. The feminine journey, on the other hand, involves a close connection to the roots of the individual’s axis mundi and protecting and fortifying one’s home base, as in, for instance, J.K. Rowling’s masterpiece, the Harry Potter series. From my own exploration, most myths, fairytales, and similar stories from the West focus on the masculine hero’s journey, with both male and female heroes being sent on a quest of some sort. Perhaps this is a result of occidental religious tradition, in which with the gods reside outside and beyond the individual’s frame of reference.

Persephone’s myth links closely with the feminine aspect of the hero’s myth. She is torn away from the world she knows and plunged into the unconscious. She does not have to journey far to find her Self. She just needs to look within herself, as symbolized by the underworld. The feminine hero’s journey entails contemplative exploration. As often remarked upon by Joseph Campbell, girls are forced to become women, and women are forced to become crones as a matter of biology, not social conventions. It is therefore necessary for women to find their selves within the framework their body presents to them. Traditionally, young women would find themselves married and/or mothers before they have undergone their inner journeys. Thus, it has been necessary to also undergo this journey within the confines of their conscious obligations to family or other groups. Modern literature has many examples of stories where this traditional model has gone wrong: female characters who reach middle age feeling the need to leave this world of marriage and parenting in order to quest for their own voice, to conduct the inner journey, to figure out when they like to go to bed, so to speak. As a young married woman somewhere between the major stages of adolescence and middle age, marriage and parenthood, I feel discouraged for the future of my marriage because of all this literature. And this is where I turn to Persephone for strength.

Persephone’s Intentions

Theorists have regarded Persephone’s story as a rape. She is abducted from her mother (with the blessings of her father) and forced into the role of wife-hood. John Daughters, in his short story "Hades Speaks" included in the collection, The Long Journey Home, attempts to look at this story from the perspective of Hades. His version gives Persephone Lolita-esque adolescent qualities: a young girl rebelling from her mother, pulling away from her father, experimenting with her femininity, eyeing other men until she finally runs away with one of them and uses the opportunity to finally break the ties between herself and her parents. This teenage rebellion is often the fear of parents, especially in terms of mothers and their daughters. Mothers have difficulties releasing their daughters, and if the daughter takes matters into her own hands, then the blame is usually placed on the men, the fathers or "abductors,” not the daughter’s need fulfillment. Looking at Persephone’s story from this perspective paints her more as an individual than as a victim. From the beginning of the Homeric "Hymn to Demeter", it is apparent that Persephone’s separation was inevitable. She went to pick flowers on her own with her friends rather than with her mother. She had already begun to pull away.

The Homeric Hymn continues to further say that once in Hades, Persephone was forced to eat the pomegranate seeds. This episode comes after a period of moping and starving herself. A little depression is inevitable after a life change, but since the Homeric Hymn tells the story from Demeter’s perspective, we truly do not know not if Persephone was forced to eat the pomegranate seed, or if she chose to eat it knowing that it sealed her fate as a resident in the underworld. From the modern reader’s perspective, it is not too far-fetched to assume Persephone told her mother she was forced to eat the seed simply to appease her mother. We only assume she is telling her mother the truth because he mother assumes her daughter speaks the truth.

Persephone does eventually return to her mother, but in a new and limited capacity. The agreement between Demeter, Zeus and Hades allows her to spend a portion of the year with her mother, and the remaining portion with Hades. After the initial plunge into the unconscious, or psyche’s underworld, the hero will eventually return, changed and armed with new weapons and strengths. Persephone’s myth, as a feminine journey, demonstrates the need of every woman to tend to her conscious surroundings, but suggests permission to escape her obligations and plunge into the shadow. Spending too much time in one realm or the other is not conducive to individuation, because self-actualization requires a balance between both spheres of the psyche. I firmly believe that this is what is necessary for coping with the stress of being a woman in modern Western, especially American, society. Remaining in the conscious or the unconscious for too long creates an imbalance in life, which eventually can lead to feelings of depression and despair that negatively affect the other people in a woman’s world.

Psychology of the Kore

There are four parts to the Demeter/Persephone myth: a. their relationship before the separation; b. Demeter’s search and grieving for her daughter; c. Persephone’s adventure in Hades; and, d. their new relationship after her return. From a social standpoint, this models the relationship of mothers and daughters and how it is affected by growth and the fear of on-coming old age. The mother does not want to release her daughter because she is afraid of losing a crucial element of herself, but the daughter does not want to stay lest her mother bar her from achieving her goals. From a psychological perspective, every woman bears within her a bit of both characters, either literally or metaphorically, depending on her place in her development.

The Demeter and Persephone myth has played various roles in my life, and I can interpret it a few different ways depending on the situation to which I apply it. When reading the myth for the sake of researching this paper, I was drawn to the sense of empowerment the myth implies that Persephone experiences upon separation from her mother. In the world in which I grew up, much emphasis was placed on making young girls capable of succeeding in the male-dominated world, especially in my "progressive," suburban elementary schools. I personally attribute this to a general response to the feminist movement of the seventies. However, all the support was given without any tools to maintain it. My mother pre-dated most Baby Boomers and never fully grasped feminism, providing a counter-weight to the "girl power" I received at school. It was not until my mother became terminally ill that she unleashed her full Demeter qualities on me, and then it was a response to a sense of abandonment as my three siblings had already left home and the fear of her oncoming death. I entered the Kore stage of my development, the adolescent maiden, under these circumstances, and sought stories of freedom and empowerment, much like Persephone seeking flowers away from her mother.

In his essay, "The Psychological Aspects of the Kore," Carl Jung describes the Kore, Persephone, as having her "psychological counterpart in those archetypes which I have called the self or supraordinate personality on the one hand, and the anima on the other" (Jung 182). This is to link the Kore/Persephone with the identification of the feminine aspects of the psyche. Furthermore, the three primary women of the myth – Persephone, Demeter and Hecate – represent the entirety of the feminine: the innocence of youth and maidenhood, the strength of womanhood, and the wisdom of old age. Demeter and Persephone play off one another as a pair of opposites. The contrast between the opposites emphasizes a woman’s place as both daughter and mother by confronting her with the two aspects inherent in her personality. "We could therefore say that every mother contains her daughter in herself and every daughter her mother, and that every woman extends backwards into her mother and forwards into her daughter" (Jung 188). Thus, she develops a sense of identity amongst other women in her position.

If a woman is caught too heavily in one aspect of the mother-daughter relationship, then she is likely to project that aspect onto other women and daughters in her life. The imbalanced woman is "so identified with the mother that her own instincts are paralyzed through projection," that she must experience an "abduction" in order to separate from her inner mother (Jung 97). I interpret abduction to refer to a forced separation brought about by either a woman’s actions, external or internal, such as going to school, getting married, or experiencing a depression. Likewise, a woman who is so identified with the daughter will feel stunted and incapable of being a mother. In this case, her abduction is a plunge into a form of underworld whereby she can gain her freedom and personal voice.

Seeking the Feminine

Concurrent to my research for this paper, though without initial intent to use it, I read Maureen Murdock’s The Heroine’s Journey, and followed her analysis, with heavy skepticism, on the feminine model of Joseph Campbell’s monomyth. Murdock writes that a descent to Persephone is when a

woman moves down into the depths to reclaim the parts of herself that split off when she rejected the mother and shattered the mirror of the feminine. To make this journey a woman puts aside her fascination with the intellect and games of the cultural mind, and acquaints herself, perhaps for the first time, with her body, her emotions, her sexuality, her intuition, her images, her values, and her mind. (Murdock 90)

She then goes on to tell of her own parallel experience of the Demeter/Persephone myth when her daughter left for college. Though she alludes to the idea that Persephone has a new sense of self after her descent to Hades and "has no intention of going back to the status quo, regressing to identification with her mother again" (Murdock 98), Murdock does not fully consider her daughter’s experience as different from her own. She is wrapped up in her own grief, such that she sees her daughter’s difficult time at school as parallel to that grief and separation.

The young Persephones entering the world today are of a different generation than the target women of Murdock’s book. There is much more room for personal self-expression and development, a sense of allowing girls to be girls. The present generation of young women are told that it is okay to be smart or not, to be overweight or skinny, to become either an engineer or a housewife. What is important, according to this message, is that they are happy and true to themselves. There are still plenty of outlets within the media that objectify women and confuse this message, but various online social networking sites have created an opposition force strong enough to counter the media, and the media has listened in some sense. Women are finding themselves in different ways than before, and are finding a sense of self younger to a degree than Murdock’s book suggests. I have to acknowledge here that this new woman model that I am suggesting is not universal across our country, and is greatly affected by a young Persephone’s experience at home, school, online, religious institution, and extracurricular activities. Many schools offer a girls’ team for almost every sport – my niece was on her school’s football team – and many of the girls’ parents, mothers especially, try to provide a nurturing environment, something they may have themselves been denied growing up and they wish the best for their daughters.

Furthermore, Murdock removes the Persephone myth from the initial individuation process, lacing it halfway through the heroine’s journey, after a woman has renounced her femininity and her mother, and gone the path of masculinity and the father. When she is ready to regain control of herself, she plunges into the depths, entering "a period of voluntary isolation, seen by her family and friends as a loss of her senses" (Murdock 88). Rather than seeing this myth as a guide for young women, she writes of this myth as a guide for older women. The myth is what it is, and it will lend itself to interpretation depending on the reader. For a woman of Murdock’s target generation, the myth is an opportunity to embrace the Kore and to find oneself in the depths of the psyche. For the modern young woman, the Persephone myth is an excellent resource for plunging into the depths as the catalyst for beginning her own individuation process to launch on a heroine’s journey, to speak, bypassing the plunge into the masculine.

Since I am a part of this new generation of Persephone women, and since we are still a relatively new phenomenon, I do not know if we will respond in middle age with a need for some masculine energy or if we will be fairly self-actualized. Much research, though not necessarily within the spectrum of psychology or mythology, has addressed concern for the new generation as a whole. I have heard the generation labeled both as "Generation Next," and "Millennials," within the contexts of new opinions towards marriage and family, stability, motivation in the work place, and a new concept of privacy. I imagine similar things are said of every generation, but my generation and the ones following me have grown up and approached individuation with reliance on the Internet and in the shadow of 9/11. The shadow is as much an active part of our conscious lives as it is unconscious. This makes myths all the more crucial because they provide a way of filtering through the "junk." Persephone’s myth, in this time of the shadow, helps young women separate from their mothers while also providing a sympathetic underworld figure. Persephone is not corrupted by her station in Hades, but draws strength from it. Young women need this model of Persephone as a guide through the frightening conscious shadow world they are entering.

The underworld, as it appears in Greek mythology, is the metaphor for that society’s shadow, much like how the duality of heaven and hell form the basis for the modern Christian shadow. This is not only the land of the dead, but it is also the land of the unknown, the unpleasant, and the forgotten. Because she took her station as the queen of the underworld, Persephone can rightly be labeled as the "Queen of the Shadow". This label also gives Persephone the added duty of being a mythic role model for those who explore psyche’s shadow world as part of the individuation process. Persephone’s myth is rather appropriate for the myths of young women because it shows that one can explore the shadow without embarking upon an epic, if not metaphorical, masculine journey. Persephone becomes the queen of the underworld, which gives her the ability to explore the territory with free-reign, and her station as queen affords her protection and a degree of control over the ugly creatures she will encounter during her exploration. In this way, she can explore the realm of the shadow with confidence and not with fear. The literary hero’s journey, whether masculine or feminine, gives us the tools to plunge into our own journey. This journey to self-actualization will awaken many scary demons within the unconscious – forgotten traumas or attributes that cannot possibly be a part of us. The encounters are frightening. The myths involving the eager hero, such as Persephone, demonstrate that the demons can be defeated and self-actualization can be achieved through the feminine, inner journey.

Works cited

  • Athanassakis, Apostolos N., trans. “2. To Demeter.” The Homeric Hymns. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins U. Press, 1976. 1-15.
  • Campbell, Joseph. The Hero with a Thousand Faces. New York: Bollingen, 1949.
  • Daughters, John. “Hades Speaks.” The Long Journey Home: Re-Visioning the Myth of Demeter and Persephone for Our Time. Ed. Christine Downing. Boston: Shambhala, 1994.
  • Jung, Carl G. “Conscious, Unconscious, and Individuation.” Trans. R.F.C. Hull. The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious. Ed. Sir Herbert Read, et al. New York: Bollingen, 1959. 275-289.
  • Jung, Carl G. “The Psychological Aspects of the Kore.” Trans. R.F.C. Hull. The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious. Ed. Sir Herbert Read, et al. New York: Bollingen, 1959. 182-203.
  • Jung, Carl G. “Psychological Aspects of the Mother Archetype.” Trans. R.F.C. Hull. The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious. Ed. Sir Herbert Read, et al. New York: Bollingen, 1959. 75-110.
  • Murdock, Maureen. The Heroine’s Journey: A Woman’s Quest for Wholeness. Boston: Shambhala, 1990.

Works consulted

  • Bolen, Jean Shinuda, M.D. Goddesses in Every Woman: A New Psychology of Women. New York: Harper Colophon Books, 1985.
  • Woolger, Jennifer Barker & Roger Woolger. The Goddess Within: A Guide to the Eternal Myths that Shape Women’s Lives. New York: Fawcett Columbine, 1987.