Carl Jung on his Mother
She had a hearty animal warmth, cooked wonderfully, and was most companionable and pleasant.
She was very stout, and a ready listener.
She also liked to talk, and her chatter was like the gay plashing of a fountain.
She had a decided literary gift, as well as taste and depth.
But this quality never properly emerged; it remained hidden beneath the semblance of a kindly, fat old woman, extremely hospitable, and possessor of a great sense of humor.
She held all the conventional opinions a person was obliged to have, but then her unconscious personality would suddenly put in an appearance.
That personality was unexpectedly powerful: a somber, imposing figure possessed of unassailable authority-and no bones about it.
I was sure that she consisted of two personalities, one innocuous and human, the other uncanny.
This other emerged only now and then, but each time it was unexpected and frightening.
She would then speak as if talking to herself, but what she said was aimed at me and usually struck to the core of my being, so that I was stunned into silence. Carl Jung, Jung: A Biography, Page 18
By day she (Jung’s) was a loving mother, but at night she seemed uncanny. Then she was like one of those seers who is at the same time a strange animal, like a priestess in a bear’s cave. Ancient and ruthless; ruthless as truth and nature. Carl Jung, Jung: A Biography, Page 51
