Women Who Run With The Wolves: A male reading

Occasionally within a group of men I hear the plea of ‘I don’t understand women.’ Sometimes plaintive, sometimes angry, and just about always perplexed.

Reading Women Who Run With The Wolves¹ may help. But, before I suggest how, there are a couple of caveats.

Caveat 1: The desire to understand is complicit in the not understanding. To understand means to fully grasp the meaning, significance, or nature of something. It means to be able to explain it and categorise it. Understanding is inherently a mechanistic perception. Women (and men for that matter) do not conform to such classifications. The desire to understand is (if I may be so bold) a male notion.

Caveat 2: Because of caveat 1 there are no answers, for men, to the appeal to understand women. Hence, this book can help but it cannot answer.

Having outlined these two caveats, let me delve into (at least some of) the book through a male reading. Although the book is now more than thirty years old, and although I have come across reference to it dozens of times during those 30 years, I have only recently read it.

Men – do not be put off by the title. It can look as though Clarissa Pinkola Estés intends the book solely for women; much of its contents apply to men also.

Clarissa Pinkola Estés is a storyteller and tells stories in groups and gatherings in many parts of the world. In this book she recounts numerous stories from various regions of the world. These stories are mythological and the characters in them are archetypes. This is important to note. The characters point to parts of our internal psyche, they are not identifiable people in our outer world. Furthermore, our internal psyche is shaped, in part, by cultural archetypes.

Clarissa Pinkola Estés explores these archetypes, dismantles them, pulls them apart, and then gently puts them all back together again. Her insight in doing so is extraordinary.

Let us return to the plea that began this blog – men unable to understand women.

As I read through Women Who Run With The Wolves one thing is very clearly articulated. Women contain at least two natures, and most likely, many more. Men do too, by the way, and I will come back to this later. But first – the dual nature of women.

As well as being an author, Clarissa Pinkola Estés is a Jungian psychologist, and as such alludes to the Jungian concept of animus. She defines animus as a woman’s ‘internal masculine energy’ and notes that, ‘This psychic figure is particularly valuable because it is invested with qualities which are traditionally bred out of women, aggression being one of the more common.’

Her aim in narrating and examining these stories is to enable women to discover and connect with their inner beings (archetypes) particularly the archetype of the Wild Woman (the wolf.) For the male reader, this aspect of women’s psyche may be hard to appreciate. Even the thought of a wild woman is dangerous, and even frightening. It is there though, and Esté suggests it is present in all women.

In her book Esté does not refer to the other Jungian concept of anima – a man’s internal feminine energy. Yet, reading Women Who Run With The Wolves from a male perspective, this concept is always present. Indeed, within many of the stories it is possible to glimpse the anima.

Women’s animus is an inner energy, and unless overtly displayed, remains hidden in our patriarchal society. As such, it can also be hidden from their male partners who wish to understand women.

There is one story in the book that is worth considering a little further, as it is a story that addresses exactly these matters. The story is called Manawee and is of African-American origin.

In the story Manawee is keen to court twin sisters. The father of the twins will only allow Manawee to do so if Manawee can guess the names of his daughters. Manawee tries and tries, but always fails. He goes away. Later he returns to try guessing again, this time bringing his little dog with him. Again he fails, and again he skulks off home. But his dog goes back to the sister’s hut and overhears the two of them talking about Manawee and calling each other by their names.

The little dog runs off to tell Manawee. On the way he smells a juicy bone and goes searching for it and chews it up. By the time he has finished he has forgotten the twins names. The dog goes back again, and from outside again hears the sisters’ names. He runs off again, and again is waylaid by the sumptuous smell of nutmeg. He forgets the names again and goes back to sleep at Manawee’s hut for the night.

The next morning, the little dog trots off to the sister’s hut and spies them getting ready to be wed. “Oh no!” he thinks, “I have to tell Manawee their names.” He hears their names and this time, even though accosted by a nasty stranger, he doggedly returns to Manawee and tells him the names of the twins. Manawee sprints off to the village where the twins and their father live. He tells the father their true names. The father blesses the marriage, and the twins tell Manawee that they have been waiting for him for a long time.

There is much archetypically in this story. Let me mention just a couple briefly.

·       The twin daughters refer to the dualism within women. In this story, one twin exemplifies the outer woman, the other the inner energy. Manawee is not marrying two women but is marrying ‘one who lives in the topside world, one who lives in the world not so easily seen,’ as Esté expresses it. He must accept both (i.e. be able to name each of them) before he can be wed. (Remember, the twins are archetypes. The story is not to be read as referring to polygamy.)

·       The little dog is what Esté calls Manawee’s dog nature. The little dog shows that Manawee (and all men) have a dual nature: Esté tells it thus: ‘His human nature, while sweet and loving, is not enough to win the courtship. It is his dog nature, his instinctual nature, that has the ability to creep near the wildish women and with his keen listening hear their names.’

Dogs, as we know, have a keen sense of sight, smell, and hearing. With that in mind, the little dog in this story is the perfect archetype for Manawee’s instinctual nature.

Thus, for men who bemoan being unable to understand women, there are some valuable lessons in Women Who Run With The Wolves.

The first lesson is to recognise that women have a dual nature. Perhaps more importantly, it is to recognise that men do also.

The second lesson is to let go the desire to understand. Instead, men must access their dog nature and learn to listen. Not just hear, but truly, deeply listen, and not be distracted from that attention.

Reading the book reveals many other lessons. Any man who wishes to discover them is recommended to read this important book.

Notes:

1. Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Women Who Run With The Wolves: Contacting the Power of the Wild Woman, Rider, London, Sydney, Auckland, Johannesburg, 1992.