This is where the God is buried,/ this is where he arose.
- I. 1927
H. Sigg died. Important dreams. In June 1926 I dreamt: I am with Hermann Sigg in a car journey on Lake Geneva.
We drive from Lausanne, direction Vevey. But Vevey is Luxor and we are on the Nile.
Arriving at the “place de la ville” [town square], H. S. says: “I must let something be repaired on the car. It will last about one hour. Meanwhile, you can go for a walk. We will then meet at the Eastern exit of the town (Direction: Montreux.”
I have a stroll in the town and wait for H. S. after an hour at the appointed place.
But he doesn’t arrive. I take the main road again to see if he was waiting further in front. Suddenly a car stops behind me.
It is H. S. He is angry. “but you can actually wait for me and do not need to run away from me.’
As I considered the dream, it occurred to me that Luxor lies on the left bank of the Nile, and not like Vevy on the right of lake Geneva (direction of the Rhone).
On the right bank of the Nile lies the Necropolis.
On 26 December I went with H. S. in the boat toward Bollingen. It was night when we arrived at the lake causeway.
Since I wanted to unrig the mast, I gave him the rudder and warned him not to deviate from the course on the white light.
Suddenly there was a bang. He had destroyed the propeller at a navigational mark. He went in the wrong direction.
I was very surprised at this, since he knew the correct way.
On the night of 29/30 XII I dreamt: a dark, sinister street in a poor part of a large town. I am alone. A man with a dog comes to meet me.
The dog attacks and I draw my large knife, to protect myself.
I take the dog by its head and notice that the skull bones move.
I think “fracture” and have compassion for the animal. The man (unknown) comes closer swaying and murmurs something.
I don’t know, is he drunk or sick?
The day before H. S. went back home again. He was preoccupied and depressed. Otherwise I noticed nothing.
The dream told me that something organic was wrong with him. I went straight to the house and examined him: aniscoria!
Progressive paralysis.
His wife was aware that he once had a syphilitic infection. He had carefully concealed this from me. I took him to Dr. Brunner. ~The Black Books, Vol. VII, Page 238-239
- Hermann Sigg (1875- 1927) was a businessman and a close friend and neighbor of Jung’s and the founder, in 1904, of Haus Sigg & Co., which specialized in olive oil and had plantations and factories in Tunisia, Spain, and France.
The company was responsible for most of the olive oil imports in Switzerland. Sigg’s obituary in the Neue Zurcher Zeitung described him as a “very kind, very upright, farsighted businessman” (January 14, 1927) .
In 1927 Jung painted an image of the map from his Liverpool dream in the calligraphic volume of LN to which he gave the following inscription:
“D. IX januarii anno 1927 obiit Hermannus Sigg aet.s.52 amicus meus. [9 January 1927 my friend Hermann Sigg died aged 52 ]” (see below, p. 240 ).
At his tower in Bollingen, Jung painted a mural bearing a stone-carved inscription in Latin and describing the culmination of the process of the rebirth of the divine that forms a central theme of Liber Novus and the Black Books.
“This is where the God is buried,/ this is where he arose. / like the fire inside the mountains,/ like the worm from the earth,/ the God begins. / like that serpent from ashes, / like the Phoenix from the flames, / the God arises / in a wondrous way. / like the rising sun, / like flame from the wood, / the God rises above. / like ailment in the body,/ like the child in its mother’s womb,/ the God is born. / He creates divine madness,/ fateful errors,/ sorrow and heartache.
/ like a tree / man stretches out his arms / and sees himself/ as a heavenly man / that he did not know,/ facing the world’s orb / and the four rivers of paradise. / And he will see the face / of the higher man and spirit, / of the greatest father / and the mother of God. / And in an inconceivable birth / the God frees himself/ from man / from image, / from every form, / while he enters / the unimaginable and absolute / secret./ In memory of Hermann Sigg,/ my very dear friend,/ died on
9 January 1927.” ~The Black Books, Vol. VII, Page 239, fn 252
