The one-sidedness and moralism of the various attacks on narcissism suggest that there may be some soul lying around in this rejected pile of ego and self-love: anything that bad must have some value in it. Could it be that our righteous rejections of narcissism and love of self cover over a mystery about the nature of the soul’s loves? Is our negative branding of narcissism a defense against a demanding call of the soul to be loved?
The problem is not just theoretical. I’m often surprised in my therapeutic work when an otherwise mature and discerning adult who is faced with some tough choice collapses everything into the statement “I can’t be selfish.” When I explore this weighty moral imperative with the person further, I usually find that it is tied to a religious upbringing. “I was taught never to be selfish,” she will say with finality. I notice, however, that while this person insists on her selflessness, she seems in fact to be quite preoccupied with herself. In pursuit of the virtue of selflessness, attention to self can go underground and become an unconscious and corrosive attachment to pet theories and values. Now when I hear someone say, “I don’t want to be selfish,” I prepare myself for a difficult struggle with the ego.
Our common intolerance for narcissism in another is an indication that there is sand in that particular oyster; our reaction is a signal that this area may hold something of importance. In this sense, narcissism is a shadow quality. Jung explains that when we meet something of the shadow in another, we often feel repulsed, but that is because we are confronting something in ourselves that we find objectionable, something with which we ourselves struggle, and something that contains qualities valuable to the soul. The negative image we have of narcissism may indicate that self-preoccupation contains something we need so badly that it is surrounded with negative connotations. Our irritated moralism keeps it at bay, but also signals us that soul is present.
How, then, do we preserve the symptom of narcissism, assuming that there is a gold nugget in that clump of dirt? How do we penetrate through the superficial sludge to the deeper necessity? The answer, as we are beginning to recognize by now, is to bring the wisdom of the imagination into play. In the case of narcissism, the path is clearly laid out: we can study the myth of Narcissus, after whom the disorder is named.