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Der gelebte Mythus aber ist die epische Idee meines Romans, und ich sehe wohl, daß, seit ich als Erzähler den Schritt vom Bürgerlich-Individuellen zum Mythisch-Typischen getan haben mein heimliches Verhältnis zur analytischen Sphäre sozusagen in sein akutes Stadium getreten ist. Das mythische Interesse ist der Psychoanalyse genau so eingeboren, wie allem Dichtertum das psychologische Interesse eingeboren ist. . .
Im Leben der Menschheit stellt das Mythische zwar eine frühe und primitive Stufe dar, im Lebendes einzelnen aber eine spate undreife. Was damit gewonnen wird, ist der Blick für die höhere Wahrheit, die sich im Wirklichen darstellt, das lächelnde Wissen vom Ewigen, Immerseienden, Gültige, vom Schema, in dem und nach den das vermeintliche ganz Individuelle lebt, nicht ahnend in dem naiven Dünkel seiner Erst- und Einmaligkeit, wie sehr sein Leben Formel und Wiederholung, ein Wandeln in tief ausgetretenen Spuren ist.
But the epic concept of my novel is myth experienced as life and I well understand that from the time I took the step as a writer from the bourgeois-individual to the mythic-typical, my personal relationship to the analytical sphere stepped into an acute stage, in a manner of speaking. The interest in the mythical is as inherently a part of the psychoanalytical as an interest in the psychological is inherently of interest to a writer. . .
The myth is the foundation of life; it is the timeless schema, the pious formula into which life flows when it reproduces its traits out of the unconscious. Certainly when a writer has acquired the habit of regarding life as mythical and typical there comes a curious heightening of his artistic temper, a new refreshment to his perceiving and shaping powers, which otherwise occurs much later in life; for while in the life of the human race the mythical is an early and primitive stage, in the life of the individual it is a late and mature one.
–Thomas Mann, Freud und die Zukunft (1937) in Leiden und Größe der Meister, pp. 920-21 (Frankfurter Ausg. 1982)
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"She never thanked me, never looked at me—melted away into the miserable night, in the strangest manner I ever saw. I have seen many strange things, but not one that has left a deeper impression on my memory than the dull impassive way in which that worn-out heap of misery took that piece of money, and was lost."