October 19, 2023

When I left off about my trip to Maine and Massachusetts, we were just about to arrive at Christiana Morgan’s Tower on the Marsh—a home inspired by Jung’s Bollingen Tower that is (like his) a sacred space, a three-dimensional expression of the soul and the journey of individuation.

We arrived at a gravel road surrounded by woods and pulled off to park on the side of the road, then walked toward the building that Christiana had constructed and lived in for four decades.

Christiana Morgan was twenty-eight when she entered analysis with Jung in Zurich. Her subsequent pioneering work influenced the development of Analytical Psychology and helped to found the field of psychology in America, inspiring the careers of countless young researchers and clinicians at Harvard and beyond. Yet as a woman of her era, she wasn’t officially recognized as a professional at Harvard and since that time her work has been published under a man’s name or forgotten.

While the once meticulous gardens around the property are no longer tended, there is a sense of magic that radiates from the building and the land. (You can see the lovely Ann Carroll marveling at that here.) With history and artwork around every corner and a river running alongside it, it’s an overwhelmingly beautiful place.

Around the far side of the Tower are the stained glass windows that Christiana designed herself and commissioned from a female artist. Naturally, they’re rich with archetypal imagery.

This is how the inside of this space, the meditation room, was designed to look, with the light pouring in.

Every surface of this building was meticulously designed and cared for.

And so… while I had heard about the current state of things inside the Tower, I really wasn’t prepared for the visceral shock I experienced once I stepped inside.

Rather than try to put it into words, I’ll show you.

This same scene of stuff pervades every single inch of the building. Top to bottom. Left to right.

The wanton disregard for a sacred place once so consciously constructed and tended is hard to see; it’s a tragedy consistent with the loss of so much of Christiana’s art, scholarship, and history already.

While the 9-12 boarding school adjacent to Christiana’s property is now the legal owner and steward of the buildings and land, there appear to be no guidelines for occupancy. In their need for faculty housing, Christiana’s home has been used for just that purpose for many years. No matter the intention of the school or those who are living there, the concern for the history of the building, her history, and the history of psychology and women’s art, appear utterly dismissed in favor of the functionality of its rooms and walls.

I’d love to be able to show you the countless meticulous wood carvings in addition to the stained glass, iron window coverings, and other original furnishings (much of her library is still there!). But there’s essentially no way to photograph any of the original artwork without the desecration surrounding it: duct tape on the mahogany bookshelves, wet towels thrown over the hardwood doors with original carvings, clothes and piles of things everywhere; dust, cobwebs, and dirt covering every single surface.

We all did our best to find and photograph the work. I’ve cropped a couple of photos here to do my best—and to offer perspective.

This next image was once—and still is—the bed board, though the original mahogany bed frame has been removed and gone missing.

It’s actually hard to capture the level of detail and artistry in these wood carvings let alone begin to digest the layers of symbolism and meaning. There are still many years or decades of scholarship needed to attend to Christiana’s legacy.

But surrounded by all the stuff, seeing the damage to the wood, it’s hard to take in. I was genuinely in shock at the juxtaposition of beauty and disaster. Really, there’s no way to overemphasize the contrast between the intended use of this space and how it is being lived in today.

The words that run the length of the door beside the carving above read: The Standard of Living is Ecstasy.

This is a close-up of one of those small cabinet doors under the books. Each one is carved with a name: Jung, Freud, Nietzsche, Melville, Sand, and others. I was unable to see all of the authors named.

Here are just a few more (cropped) glimpses of what the walls contain that I was able to see.

On one significant level, walking through this building felt like walking through Frida Kahlo’s home in Mexico City. The sense of awe, the experience of soul, the ability to see the person and her artwork intertwined.

Appropriately, Frida Kahlo’s home is a museum today. Visitors can enter her carefully crafted space, honor her, and learn about her life and work.

The same is true of Jung’s home, and Freud’s.

Not so for Christiana.

The current use of the space only reinforces the erasure of Christiana Morgan and of women scholars and artists throughout history.

She was a pioneering female artist, researcher, clinician, and author whose influence on the field must be better understood and respected. She has been relegated to being a background figure in Jung’s work and in the establishment of psychology at Harvard (and, therefore, in America) only because of her sex and the time in which she lived.

As I’ve expressed, there are various actions (in collaboration with Christiana’s granddaughter, Hilary) to support the proper restoration and protection of The Tower on the Marsh and all of the artwork it contains.

Concurrently, we’re gathering a growing team of volunteers to organize a digital archive of Christiana’s papers—including her extensive notes from her analysis with Jung and the original artwork and visions from her active imagination.

If you are interested in joining us with some volunteer time on this project, please send me a note! If you know of any grants or individuals who might be able to help with the necessary funds to sponsor the publication of her papers and/or support the Tower, please just hit reply!

I won’t send more emails like this for a while, but we’ll be working away in the background.

Meanwhile, I send my love to each of you in these ongoing dark times. I can only hope that someday we will find a way through violence and war begetting more violence and war. Every day feels like a dance of carrying on while holding grief.

XO, Satya

Satya Doyle Byock, Director of The Salome Institute of Jungian Studies