0 Items

The Sun Magazine

The Sun Interview

The Myth Of Therapy

An Interview With James Hillman

I believe the soul is always attuned to the geographical, or ecological, world. Where you are is as important as where you came from. What you do every day is as important to the soul, to the revelation of the soul, as what your parents did to you, or what you were like when you were five, or ten. We don’t generally subscribe to such notions, not really; instead, we emphasize the notion of individual career, personal biography. This notion is faulty because it’s too singular to begin with. We could fault this model of the self even further. But it’s hard to sit here and imagine other models. Do you see what I mean? It’s hard to shift to an emphasis on the end of life, or to the social, geographical context of life, to the “you” who is what you do, to the “you” that you create with every move. Now, that would be a Zen thing, wouldn’t it? Every move you make, every bite you eat, every word you say, is inventing yourself. We think the soul is already made by what happened early on, and we’re always trying to fix it, to adjust it.

Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

In Search Of Soul

From A Blue Fire: Selected Writings By James Hillman

Anthropologists describe a condition among “primitive” peoples called “loss of soul.” In this condition a man is out of himself, unable to find either the outer connection between humans or the inner connection to himself. He is unable to take part in his society, its rituals, and traditions. They are dead to him, he to them.

Who Sees What

One morning I came upon him in one of the more remote parts of the park. He’d spread his sleeping bag out smoothly, and he was about to get inside. He was wearing his knitted cap. I approached him from behind, and hoped he didn’t see me seeing him. Going to bed is not supposed to happen in broad daylight in front of strangers.

Catching Up

I’m never going to read them all. My wife knows it. My children know it. They exchange sly smiles when I haul a big box of magazines along on family vacations. Or when I announce at the beginning of the new year, as fervently as the president promising a balanced budget, that I’m finally going to get caught up. They know I’ll subscribe to more magazines, that the stack of unread issues — already taller than I am — will grow taller still.



The night of the day that Dr. Martin Luther King was shot, my parents had gone to the art museum in Cleveland to see a stunning painting by Titian of Mars and Venus, a fat naked Venus and a Mars clad in Renaissance armor. But instead of eating a fancy dinner or making love in a motel room, they were frantically trying to book a flight back to Newark, New Jersey, which was burning to the ground.


Anna has him sitting on the kitchen table; as usual, he is angry. “C’mon, Dad,” she keeps saying, as if that will make any difference. A heaviness lodges at the base of my skull; I try to shrug it away, but it clings there, breathing hard. The old man has the can of shaving cream clamped between his knees.

Luchita And The Radio Man

A Searing, True-Life Tale of Broadcasting, Love, and Deception

The type of broadcasting Sean Donovan’s doing in Philo started a few years back, when people got fed up with turning on the radio and finding nothing but coffee-soaked boss-jocks shrieking about what was happening at the local speedway on “Sunday! Sunday! Sunday!” followed by two minutes and fifty-nine seconds of the 1910 Fruitgum Company singing “Yummy, Yummy, Yummy, I Got Love In My Tummy.”

*NOTE: Original copies of this issue are no longer available. Unbound, laser-printed copies will be provided for print orders.

Readers Write

The Sixties

For months, I’ve been living in a time warp, half in the present, half in the sixties. The crisis in the Persian Gulf is part of it; I have a son who is eighteen and investigating conscientious-objector status. Recently, a friend twisted a rubber band into a figure-eight and explained that physicists view time as circular: it loops back around with no end and no beginning.

Personal Stories By Our Readers ▸


“One cannot be deeply responsive to the world without being saddened very often.”

Erich Fromm

More Quotations ▸
The gift of ideas

A Sun gift subscription will be filled with surprises all year long

Order Now