The Magic Tinderbox part four...
the text of part four: When he reached the town, he said to himself: “Now I can feast as much as I like - at last!”
After years of scrimping on a miserable pay, with his sudden wealth, the soldier felt like a prince. He bought a new pair of boots and he went to the best tailor in the town. Some days later, he was clad in a fine new uniform and people turned in the street to admire him. Lavish with his money, the soldier was surrounded by folk quick to tell him how to spend his coins, and it all went on a round of dances, fine carriages, theatres and, most of all, on drinking sprees. Of course, his money soon ran out and when this happened, his "friends" vanished. When the innkeeper discovered that the soldier could no longer pay his board, he rudely put him out. So the poor soldier ended up in a garret and every day he had to draw in his belt a little more. All the fun was over.
One evening, he realized he had never used the old witch's tinderbox. So he rubbed it, and as it sparked, the dog with the eyes like saucers suddenly appeared.
"Tell me your wish, sir," it said.
". . . bring me heaps of money!" gasped the soldier in amazement. A second later, the dog was back with a bag of coins. Every time he rubbed the tinderbox, the dog brought him more money. Then when he rubbed it quickly twice in succession, the dog with eyes like mill stones stood before him, carrying silver coins. And when the soldier rubbed the tinderbox three times in a row, the third dog came carrying gold. Rich all over again, the soldier chose the best hotel in the town and went back to leading the life of a fine gentleman.
kristo's interpretation: *When he reached the town, he said to himself: “Now I can feast as much as I like - at last!”
Our hero has succeeded in coming back from the depths of the unconscious...just like a shaman...and is now carrying some of its more obvious riches...plus something else...i.e. the witch’s grandfather’s tinderbox. I’ve been letting this turn of the story marinate for awhile in my own unconscious while going about the sometimes difficult, sometimes ecstatic, and increasingly rich details of my own conscious life. Sure enough...the alchemy is progressing and unfolding quite perfectly on its own. The difference for me (and now for you), is in simply paying attention...and being treated to revelations that would have otherwise gone unnoticed for perhaps another lifetime (or so).
Make no mistake. Reading fairy tales is use-less! You will not find more cash in your pocket, or the end to your sorrows as a result of this endeavor. Fairy tales are not a means to an end. But more on this later...perhaps. For now...I think I know what this turn of imaginary, symbolic events is (nearly) all about.
Once again...I'm not going to quite fully spill the beans here.
Let’s just say that the Freudian aspect of the soldier’s descent and return from the cave is pretty much right on...and he is no longer tied to his mother’s apron strings. Hence his new appetite and enthusiasm for feasting on what every red-blooded young boy-who’s-come-of-age wants feasting upon. He’s discovered his own sexual power, and sure as hell wants to indulge it.
What’s interesting is that it was the wise old woman archetype who first gave him a taste of it. There is a wonderful parallel scene in Fellini’s autobiographical Amarcord that qualifies as a genuine intiatory experience...most especially because it puts the initiate in such utter turmoil that he ends up quite sick in bed. (Hell...why do you think some people just love those crazy twirly rides that cause extreme nausea??!?)
So...as I said previously...2 functions down...and probably 2 more to go. He’s learned to fight...and he’s learned to...well, fuck.... It goes without saying that there’s more to life than that...but judging by the lowest common denominator of the collective consciousness, it’s not so obvious that we all actually grok that.
After years of scrimping on a miserable pay, with his sudden wealth, the soldier felt like a prince.
Or maybe...Prince! The specific use of the simile (“like a prince”) is more than just a technical detail. Feeling “like” something is NOT the same thing as actually “being” that same thing. Young men who fight and f* are physically and sexually mature...but they are not wise. The first thing needed for wisdom...after discovering the necessary physical attributes...is experience.
By definition...a soldier home from the war has had fighting experience...probably in abundance. This “feeling like a prince” would then be symbolic of the capacity to gain the necessary experience involved in becoming a, shall we say, lover. (It’s just a comical aside to insinuate that a young man who only knows how to fight and f* would possibly merit the title: f*-er.) (And which of you has never heard the interesting corollary to all of this, that there are those young...and not so young...males who actually prefer fighting to f*ing?)
He bought a new pair of boots and he went to the best tailor in the town. Some days later, he was clad in a fine new uniform and people turned in the street to admire him.
Boots make for a very obvious symbol. Perhaps that’s why young women intuitively find the shoes a man wears to be so revealing. Footwear is a universal symbol for attitude. One’s standpoint and / or viewpoint.
Our opinions and our observations reveal our attitude. Need I say more?
Our young princely soldier has bought himself a new attitude. The attitude of and uniform of the lover who knows how to fight. But attitude can never be bought. It must be earned through experience...and his initiation by the old wise woman has given him the psychic energy to go out and earn his lover’s chops...which in turn, shows up as a brand new attitude. And one that people notice and admire!
Who doesn’t admire courage? Add to that the confidence of the experienced lover...and what we have here is the Napoleonic equivalent of James Bond.
But just as James Bond is a cut-out cartoon character until that character is fleshed out...so to speak...we must wait to see how much depth our hero can reveal. Sure, he looks good...but does he really have the goods that count?
Lavish with his money, the soldier was surrounded by folk quick to tell him how to spend his coins, and it all went on a round of dances, fine carriages, theatres and, most of all, on drinking sprees.
Well, it hadn’t occurred to me until this very moment how the coins are the connection to another function! Of course! Coins in the Tarot are the disks... and disks, in my experience of doing dreamwork, are the Sensate or Sensation Function....
For some reason, this being another auxiliary function not only wasn't part of the soldier's consciousness...but we're given to understand that it was...like money itself...lacking.
Sure enough, today’s society consists mostly of people with Thinking (swords) as Dominant...and with Sensation (coins or disks) being first or primary Auxiliary. The witch, as the less conscious, secondary Auxiliary would then be Intuition...which leaves Feeling as the true Inferior / Shadow.
And without explaing Sensation fully, suffice it to say that it deals with an appreciation of physical facts. Things that can be touched or seen or tasted or heard or spoken...and of course, measured....i.e. everything having to do with the 5 physical senses. It’s opposite is Intuition...or what is commonly known as the 6th sense.
So taking this new found wealth as symbolic of the Sensate function, we see that the soldier is as lavish with it as any typical nouveau riche / yokel lacking in experience and wisdom.
His lack of wisdom and experience is not only the reason for so much unwanted advice...it actually calls forth this new and interesting kind of monkey wrench which is sure to lead him into the forest of the unconscious once more...because that is where the hidden key to his own wisdom lies.
As I said earlier...experience alone is simply not enough to create wisdom...and these frivolous, greedy voices of the self-seeking hangers-on are no substitute for wisdom.
Now the fact that the money was spent “most of all, on drinking sprees” must have particular significance...otherwise the fairytale wouldn't bother to say “most of all.”
In psychologicl terms, drinking has a long, complex, and serious symbolism. If you'd like to get down into the nitty gritty of it, I’d suggest reading Celtic Queen Maeve and Addiction: An Archetypal Perspective...by the Jungian analyst, Sylvia Brinton Perera. Suffice it to say right here, that it has quite a bit to do with the Intuitive Function...as if the soldier is unconsciously trying to buy his way back to the witch and her particular wisdom (and Function).
Of course, his money soon ran out and when this happened, his "friends" vanished.
Well...there's no way to buy back into the unconscious, except by reaching the limits of consciousness. Once consciousness...and the conscious functions find themselves stretched to the limit...they must break...and this is one of the serious dangers of life. Psychosis is just around the bend for each and every one of us...unless we've got a healthy connection to the unconscious. Which is precisely what fairy tales can do for us. Paying attention to them...and to dreams...is HEALTHY. Obsessing over them...or trying to gain control over the unconscious (or anything else) through them is NOT.
So...the soldier finding himself all alone...and penniless (once again) is about to find out what's possible in terms of his connection to the unconscious.
When the innkeeper discovered that the soldier could no longer pay his board, he rudely put him out. So the poor soldier ended up in a garret and every day he had to draw in his belt a little more. All the fun was over.
Aha! First it seems, things have to get even worse before the soldier can hit the wall...or rock bottom. Not only is the Sensate Function just about exhausted...but his Thinking function...i.e. the garret...being up in his head...is the only place left for him to go. (And quite a poor residence that obviously is...or at least so says the fairy tale.) And interestingly, the Sensate Function is again alluded to as shrinking. Remember...it has to do with measuring...and that belt nicely serves as a tape measure...doesn't it???
The belt is also an allusion to the umbilical cord which has been symbolically cut...but this is still a bit cloudy and unclear to me at the moment.
So let’s leave things at that, and return when the spring has once again filled up the well....
*You just can’t know how exciting it is for me to be doing this passionate, alchemical work. It pays absolutely nothing, yet (along with dream analysis, astrology and photography) it is the most satisfying work I have ever done in my life.
If you find this work to be of personal benefit, please make a small donation to help fill up the well, and support kristo’s Fairy Tale Project
Thank you...
kristo
The Magic Tinderbox...
part one
part two
part three
part five
kristo's daily horoscope
A Jungian look at the Zeitgeist
astrology for the wildly intuitive...
© 2007 Curtis C. Cates, M.D.