The Seven Basic Plots - Christopher Booker [216]
And of course in most instances the central element in that goal is the hero's union with the heroine, who herself represents the `eternal feminine' - although in a more immediate, personal guise. Athene may help to guide Odysseus to his goal, representing the eternal feminine of the Anima in its supernatural, impersonal, ideal aspect: but in the end it is Penelope who is Odysseus's goal, his personal anima-figure, corresponding directly to his own inner feminine, the inmost centre of his identity. The `light' heroine in stories represents the anima in this personal sense, just as the more lofty, detached Athene-like figures hovering over the action represent the great universal power with which the hero must align himself if he is to win her. Such `active' redeeming heroines as Ariadne, Portia, Leonora, are classic anima-figures representing the numinous power of the feminine when it is directly involved in the action of the story. But so too may be the seemingly more `passive' heroines whom the hero has to win or redeem from the shadows, when he himself is `active' and strongly masculine. The anima-figure reflects whatever is needed to complement the particular balance of qualities shown by the hero. So long as he is worthy of her and open to her, she stands for whatever he needs to make him whole. If he, for any reason, is rendered weak or powerless, she may have to be strong enough to supply him with the strength he lacks; if he is strong, she may merely need to represent the complementary softening feminine, necessary to ensure that his strength is life-giving. This is why, as the hero's `good angel', the heroine is of such crucial importance in stories, and why it is so revealing when the hero wrongs or rejects her in any way. Because ultimately she stands in both a personal and a universal, supra-personal way for the heart and soul of man - the Latin anima means `soul' - that mysterious `other half' who enshrines both the centre of a man's identity and the essence of life itself. If the hero scorns or mistreats an anima-figure it is that aspect of his own nature which he is in effect rejecting.
When the heroine is herself the central figure of a story, then the same complementary role is played for her by the figure Jung termed the animus, the masculine figure whom the heroine needs to make her complete. We see such a figure in the Prince in such fairy tales as Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty or Snow White, in Jane Eyre's Mr Rochester, in Elizabeth Bennett's Mr Darcy and Emma Woodhouse's Mr Knightley. The positive animus-figure is a handsome, compelling man, unmistakably masculine, but softened and made still more attractive by his inner feminine characteristics, his sensitive and sympathetic feeling and his ability to perceive the heroine's true inner nature. He corresponds to the `spirit' in woman (the Latin animus means `spirit, from the Greek anemos or `wind'): the vital power which is necessary to inspire her and to bring her femininity to life: as the Sleeping Beauty is brought to life or `animated' by her Prince; as the femininity of Shakespeare's `Shrew' is awakened by the masterful Petruchio; that of Emma Woodhouse by the inspiring presence of Mr Knightley; that of Tracy Lord by Dexter Haven in High Society; or that of the tough-minded Sue Charlton by the manly but sensitive hero of Crocodile Dundee.
The `light family'
The `light other half' is the most compelling figure in storytelling simply because she or he is the `centre' to whom the hero or the heroine is being drawn, consciously or unconsciously, throughout the story. In terms of the archetypal family drama their eventual union is the supreme goal which marks the culmination of all striving and uncertainty, symbolising both the final point of rest and the beginning of unimaginable new life.
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