The Shadow Archetype in Joan Harris's Chocolate and the Candy Slippers. At the end of winter, a young woman arrives in a small provincial and calm French town, she calls herself Vianne Rocher, with her little daughter Anouk. Who is this Vianne Rocher, why did she come to this small town, and what kind of inhabitants live in this French city ?Vianne is an eternal traveler, who has changed not one, not two, or even ten cities on her way, accustomed to not depending on anyone, not to get used to anything and not to become attached to anything. Her mother was a witch, from whom she /...learned the art of turning defeat into success, stretching fingers with a fork in order to ward off misfortune, sewing sachets, brewing potions, believing that meeting a spider before midnight brings good luck, after - misfortune... But most importantly, she conveyed to me her love of changing places, the gypsy restlessness that made us wander throughout Europe and beyond: one year in Budapest, the next in Prague, six months in Rome, four years in Athens, then across the Alps to Monaco and along the coast - Cannes, Marseille, Barcelona... By the time I was eighteen, I had lost count of the cities we lived in and the languages ​​we spoke. We also made a living in all sorts of ways: we worked as waitresses, translators, and repaired cars. Sometimes they left cheap hotels where they stayed for one night through the window without paying the bill. They traveled on trains without tickets, forged work permits, and crossed borders illegally. We have been deported countless times. The mother was arrested twice but released without charge. And we changed our names, reinterpreting them in accordance with the traditions of a particular region in which we briefly settled: Yanna, Zhanna, Joanne, Giovanna, Anna, Annushka... Driven by the wind, we, like criminals, were constantly on the run, carrying around our cumbersome life luggage in francs, pounds, crowns, dollars... / At the age of 40, Vianne Rocher’s mother was dying of cancer and refused to go to the hospital for treatment, she died in a New York taxi, and after the death of her mother, 9 months later Vianne gave birth to a daughter /.. .Her father didn’t even know about her existence, and I myself don’t know exactly who conceived her, since at the dawn of my youth I had many casual lovers. But it didn't matter. I could peel an apple and throw the peel over my shoulder to find out the initials of my daughter's father, but I've never been interested in that. Extra ballast would only slow us down... / With the advent of her daughter, Vianne began to think about the need for something permanent in her life, but these thoughts weighed on her. Over time, she had a bank account and her own business, which she used to earn a living. Vianne prepared chocolate, she prepared chocolate, with the same skill with which her witch mother could read and see the destinies of other people. This city of Lansquenet-sous-Tannes, to which Vianne arrives with her daughter, is just another city into which the fickle wind carries her. Vianne rents a small shop located directly opposite the city church, on the second floor of which she will live with her daughter, and on the first floor she will open her chocolate “Heavenly Almond”, and all this in the first days of Lent. The personal unconscious, according to C. Jung, corresponds archetype of the Shadow. The Shadow is understood as the “negative” part of the personality, that is, “the sum of hidden, unfavorable properties, insufficiently developed functions and contents of the personal unconscious.” E. Edinger describes the process of Shadow formation as follows. At the initial stage of personality development, the “I” is not separated from the unconscious, that is, it remains identified with the Self, feels like God, but this initial unconscious integrity must be destroyed. “In order for the entire personality not to plunge into the sphere of the unconscious <...>, at this stage the “I” must be separated from the Shadow.” This process is necessary for the development of consciousness and personality of the individual. About the importance of forming the Shadow archetype, C. Jung says: “Every individuala revolution, an internal split, a decomposition of the stable existing and renewal are necessary <...>” The necessary process of separation of the “I” from the Shadow must end with the acceptance of the Shadow in order for the personality to develop further. But in order for “a tense relationship of opposites to arise,” without which further movement is impossible, for this “what is repressed must be conscious.” After this short definition of the phenomenon of the Shadow, it would be appropriate to describe the town of Lansquenet-sous-Tannes itself, its inhabitants, as well as the priest, one might say, the walking conscience of this city, Francisco Reno, since in my opinion, Vian herself, with her usual way of life, are the inhabitants the city, the priest Renaud, they are all essentially shadows of each other. /...The town is no worse than others. Lansquenet-sous-Tannes. Two hundred souls, no more. A tiny point on the highway between Toulouse and Bordeaux - blink and you've already passed. One central street - two rows of mouse-colored half-timbered houses, shyly clinging to one another; stretching parallel, like the tines of a crooked fork, several side branches. A defiant white church in a square with shops along its perimeter. Farms scattered across waking fields. Orchards, vineyards, fenced strips of land, divided according to the strict hierarchy of the region's agriculture. Next, the Tann, a small tributary of the Garonne, makes its way through the marshy pasture. What about the locals? They are not much different from the people we have met before; maybe a little paler in the light of the unexpected sun, a little duller. Scarves and berets are the same shades as the hair hidden under them - brown, black, gray. Faces shriveled like last year's apples; eyes, buried in wrinkled skin, look like glass balls in hardened dough Well-mannered people, extremely well-mannered; no one will look at us... / This is how the city seems to Vian when he first meets it. And here she meets the priest/...The column is closed by a figure in black. At first I take him for a carnival participant - perhaps a Plague Doctor - but as he approaches, I recognize the old-fashioned cassock of a village priest. He is about thirty-five years old, although from a distance he seems older because of his prim, important appearance. He turns to me and I determine that he is not from here either. A wide-cheeked face, light eyes of a northerner, long fingers like a pianist’s, resting on a silver cross hanging from his neck. Perhaps it is precisely this, his non-local origin, that gives him the right to look at me. But I don’t notice the friendliness in his cold, light eyes. He glares at me with an appraising, malevolent gaze, like a man who fears for his power. I smile at him, he turns away in fear.../ The figure in black, as Vianne calls the priest, is the bearer of all the secrets of the citizens of the city, his name is Francis Reno. What is he like?/...How all these visits tire me...I, mon pere, with all my thoughts, strive to guide them on the true path, to save them from sin. But they resist at every step, like little children, out of a whim they reject healthy food, continuing to eat what makes them sick... Here they fear me, respect me... but do they love me? No. Everyone's faces are gloomy and dissatisfied. What kind of children they are all! They drive me crazy with their questions and mannerisms. But I have no right to show weakness. Sheep are not the docile, harmless creatures they are portrayed as in idyllic pastorals. Any villager will confirm this. They are cunning, sometimes cruel and pathologically stupid. And an undemanding shepherd often demonstrates disobedience and insolence. That’s why I’m invariably strict with them.../ This is how the priest describes his parishioners with contempt. And here’s what he says about Vianne herself/... We have a new parishioner. A certain Vianne Rocher, I assume a widow, with a little daughter. So, she rented this bakery and hopes to open it by the end of the week. I think her establishment won't last long. And besides, she won’t take root here. Although she is a nice woman, she is with usshe has nothing in common. In less than two months, he will run away again to the big city. That's where she belongs. I am amazed by her ability to negotiate with people. I offered her my services as a mediator, but I doubted that I would find anyone willing to help. In general, she laughs a lot and constantly gesticulates, making comical, absurd movements with her hands. Also, I believe, a trait inherent in residents of big cities. We're used to a more reserved manner here, but I hope she doesn't mean anything bad. She wrapped a purple scarf around her head like a gypsy, but her hair came out from under it and had white dye on it. But that didn't seem to bother her. The bakery opened yesterday. But it turned out that this was not a bakery. Chocolate “Heavenly Almond”. Nonsense and nothing more. And even in the first days of Lent, the traditional time of abstinence? I regard this as sacrilege, perhaps a deliberate challenge.../After the opening of the chocolate shop, many city residents visited it, some came out of curiosity, some came to buy chocolate. And for priest Reno this became a real test /...Desperation speaks to me. I would like to lead them through trials, through the thorns of the earthly path. But who am I dealing with? Day after day, a sluggish procession of liars, swindlers, gluttons, despicable people who engage in self-deception passes before me. The entire struggle between good and evil is reduced to a fat woman, tormenting herself with pitiful doubts in front of a shop where they sell chocolate: “Can I? Or is it not possible? The devil is a coward; he doesn't show his face. It has no essence, it is dispersed into millions of particles, insidious wormholes penetrating into the blood and soul. You and I, mon pere, were born too late. I would prefer to live in the harsh, virtuous world of the Old Testament era. Then everything was simple and clear. Satan walked among us in the flesh. We made difficult decisions, sacrificed our children in the name of God. We loved God, but we feared Him even more. Don't think I'm blaming Vianne Rocher. In fact, she has no place in my thoughts at all. She is just one of the manifestations of evil that I must fight against every day. But when I think about this store with an elegant canopy, calling for intemperance, turning away from faith... Meeting parishioners at the church, out of the corner of my eye I catch movement behind its window. Try me. Taste it. Taste.../ So, day after day, Vianne's chocolate began to flourish, and some residents of the city became not only regulars of the chocolate bar, but also friends of Vianne and her daughter Anouk. Every day the relationship between Vianne and the priest Francis began to become increasingly tense, since the bright holiday of Easter was approaching, and the chocolate shop not only did not close, as Reno wished, but flourished even more, and instead of fasting, residents kept coming try new sweets at the chocolate bar. All the time Vianne Rocher was in Lansquenet she wondered why she was here, and Thrasisk wondered the same question why Vianne was still here. If we take a therapeutic situation and directly work with elements of the Shadow archetype, then its elements require recognition in cases of confrontation, and then they need to be differentiated, assimilated or interpreted as the most important elements of individuation. Therapy is more of a system of restoring mental balance within a healthy, supportive atmosphere, combined with an analysis of early infantile situations, including trauma and transference defenses. In cases where the main problem is assimilation of the shadow, therapy must be more confrontational. Perhaps this is the answer to the question why Vianne came to the city of Lansquenes-sous-Tannes, perhaps to be able to meet her shadow, enter into confrontation with it and assimilate its parts, and what are the parts, what is Vianne’s Shadow. Constancy, dependence on another, or something else? The image of the Black Man, formed by Vianne’s psyche, is what frightens her and does not allow her to enter into permanent close relationships and forces her to constantly change her place of residence./...The Black Man has many faces, and all of them are unforgiving, harsh and unusually envious. Run, Vianne. Run, Anouk. Forget about your sweet little dream and run... With an authoritative tone and insidious logic, he keeps you numb, obedient and afraid. And, in order to get rid of this fear, you run in hope and despair, you run in order to eventually understand that you carry this person inside you, carry you around like some kind of evil child... And my mother eventually understood this too. She saw him around every corner, at the bottom of every cup. He smiled from every poster, looked out from every passing car. Approaching with every heartbeat... / From the description of the Black Man, one can notice that Vianne’s internal image of the Black Man is made up of the introjected image of the Black Man of her mother, as an inheritance is passed on from generation to generation, one can say the Black Man is a transgenerational trauma, received by Vianne from her mother. Interestingly, Vianne’s mother told her a story about how one woman’s child, her daughter, was stolen. This woman came to the store to do some shopping and left her newborn daughter alone in the car, and when she returned the girl was no longer there, she disappeared along with her silver bracelet and cat amulet. A similar bracelet with an amulet was kept in a tin box where Vianne kept the few objects left to her from her mother, as well as the figure of the Black Man. Later, in the novel Candy Shoes, the secret of this bracelet and this story about the disappearance of the baby will be revealed. The baby who was stolen from the car turns out to be Vianne herself, and her mother is a thief, who had to hide all her life, constantly change her place of residence, names, professions, because she was afraid that her secret would be revealed and the girl would be taken away from her, which she was afraid of more death. Vianne’s mother called those who would come and take the girl away the Pious. Vianne's stay in the city of Lansquenet-sous-Tannes ended with the fact that on the eve of Easter, she finds the very priest who seemed to her to be the embodiment of the figure of the Black Man pursuing her, in his window, overeating on chocolate, blissfully sleeping. She leaves this city for Paris, where from a bright woman who wore a red skirt, red shoes, and jingling bracelets, she turns into an inconspicuous woman. Now nothing distinguishes Vianne and her daughter Anouk from the inhabitants of Montmarte, and red sachets with herbs no longer hang near their door to ward off evil. Now she wears a black dress, a black coat and no longer makes chocolate herself, but buys it for resale. Now Vianne, it seems to her, no longer has anything to persecute the figure of the Black Man for, she and her daughter Anouk are the same as everyone else. /...A gifted girl,” says her new teacher. “An unusually developed imagination and a surprisingly extensive vocabulary for her age!” But when she says this, the teacher looks as if a rich imagination is suspicious in itself, as if it is a sign of something bad. Well, my fault. Now I understand this. And then it seemed completely natural to me to raise her according to my mother’s ideas. This provided a certain perspective, allowed us to have some of our own traditions, as if enclosing us in a magic circle, into which the rest of the world could not penetrate. But if he couldn’t get in there, then we couldn’t get out. We found ourselves caught in a trap, enclosed in a kind of cozy cocoon, which, however, we ourselves created, and, having become eternal strangers, we existed, as it were, separately from everyone. In any case, this was the case four years ago. But since then we We live in a lie, cozy and comfortable. Show me any mother, and I will prove to you that she is a liar. We tell our children not about what the world around us is like, but about what it should be like. We say that there are no monsters or ghosts there, that if you do good, then people will do good to you, that the Mother of God will always be there and protect you. And, of course, we never call it a lie - because we have the best intentions,we want only the best for our children, but nevertheless this is a real lie. It is not easy to be the daughter of a witch. But being the mother of a witch is even more difficult. If I tell my children the truth, then I will also sentence them to the life that I myself have always led - to eternal wanderings, to a complete lack of stability, peace and security, to living out of suitcases, to... that they will always have to race with this wind... If I lie, then we will be like everyone else./ Having found herself to be her former self, having given up the opportunity to be individual, Vianne is trying to get rid of the elements of the Shadow that are pursuing her. This leads to the fact that Vianne’s entire existence, her integrity, is in danger of destruction and disappearance. /...Now, looking in the mirror, I don’t see myself there; so, the silent face of a woman in her thirties. The most ordinary woman, endowed with neither special beauty nor special character. The same as everyone else; in essence, this is exactly what I wanted to become, but for some reason today the thought of this makes me completely despondent../ In Vianne’s life, a certain Zosie Del Alba appears, a woman in bright red shoes that sparkle like candy canes. At first, she simply went to buy chocolates in the shop, then she stood behind the counter as a saleswoman, then Zozi became friends with Vianne’s daughter Anouk, and became her not only an adviser and friend, but also a mentor, and gradually she began to participate in the management of the shop. Vianne noticed how similar this woman was to the Vianne she used to be. Zozi Del-Alba herself considered herself a free spirit, collecting the lives of other people, which consisted in the fact that she simply took the place of a person, his life became her life. Simply put, she took what was poorly placed, and as if others did not need it. So in Vianne’s life, she came with the same goal, but she did not succeed, because over time the heroine came to the realization that for the integrity and understanding of her “I” it is simply necessary, understanding and acceptance of what is perceived as unwanted. In the novel Candy Slippers the following parable is given /...My mother often told me an old story - about a young man who, right on the road, sold his shadow to a traveling merchant in exchange for the gift of eternal life. He got what he wanted and moved on, terribly pleased with the deal he had concluded - well, what use is the shadow to me, he thought, it clearly made sense to get rid of it. But months and years passed, and the young man began to understand something. When he left the house, he did not cast a shadow; he did not see the reflection of his face in any mirror; and in not a single pond, not in a single lake, no matter how calm the water there, he could not see himself. What if I turned invisible, he even thought. On sunny days he tried not to leave the house, he also avoided moonlit nights, he broke all the mirrors in his house, and closed the windows from the inside with shutters - but this did not bring him either satisfaction or peace. His bride left him; friends grew old and died. And he lived and lived in the eternal twilight of his house, until one day, in complete despair, he went to the priest and confessed what he had done. And the priest, who in those days when the young man made his deal, was still young, and now He became as yellow as old bones, a shaking old man, only shook his head and said to him: “You, son, did not meet a merchant on the road then, but the devil himself.” It was with him that you made a deal, and a deal with the devil usually ends with people losing their souls. “But I only gave away a shadow!” - the young man protested. And again the decrepit priest shook his head. “A man who does not cast a shadow is, to be honest, not a man at all,” he said and turned away, without adding anything more. Well, the young man returned home. And the next morning he was found hanging from a tree branch. And the sun was shining straight in his face, and on the grass under his feet lay his long thin shadow... / I would like to finally note the words of C. Jung that the shadow part of the personality is not something negative, it is only perceived by the “I” - consciousness as negative, since it contains all those.