concerning these children, until one now
hears this case blithely dismissed as a fraud. No one reading the
original publications, studying the photographs, the diaries, and
the overall picture will dismiss the case, however.
What kind of minds did these feral children have? Jung claimed
that no one is born a tabula rasa, a blank slate. As the body carries
features specifically human yet individually varied, so does the psychic
organism. The psyche preserves an unconscious stratum of elements going
back to the invertebrates and ultimately the protozoa. Jung speaks of
a hypothetical peeling of the collective unconscious, layer by layer,
down to the psychology of the ameoba. We can trace a rough parallel in
the development of the foetus.
As the body must be fed to realize the potential built into the genes
as a blueprint waiting development, so must the mind. Jung used the
term 'archetype' to describe "recurrent impressions made by subjective
reactions." We inherit such ideas as part of our potential mind pattern.
Archetypes, however, are only a kind of readiness to produce over and
again the same mythical ideas. If the readiness is not triggered by a
response or a demand, that particular possibility remains dormant and
even steadily diminishes.
Linguists are intrigued by the readiness with which the infant seizes
a language, if given the referents. The "readiness" of language can
miscarry, as Susanne Langer put it, because of lack of the trigger-response
interplay. If this happens, the world view shaped by that language
miscarries too and never forms. Then participation in that kind of world
is permanently blocked. Leonard Hall writes that our culture and our
reality are not separate phenomena. People of different cultures not
only speak different languages, but inherit different sensory worlds.
Lévi-Strauss uses the term "semantic-universe" to describe our
intellectual-scientific-technological fabric of reality. Jerome Bruner
suggested that language is our most powerful means for performing
"transformations" on the world. We transmute the world's shape by
metaphoric mutations. We recombine our verbal structures in the interest
of new possibilities.
Susanne Langer considered language to be conception and concept the frame
of perception. Thus, for Langer, we live in a "primary world" of reality
that is verbal. The word for a thing helps to arrest an infant's visual
process and focus it on a specific thing. It is the combination of sensory
possibilities, parental focus, and innate drives for ordering, that
organizes the child's visual field. Then the word-thing growth becomes
exponential, growing like a tree at every tip. Grouping, identifying,
correlating, with a constant check with his exemplars, gives the young
child an exciting participation and communion, a defining of self
and world. Langer calls even nature a "language-made affair," made for
understanding, and "prone to collapse into chaos if ideation fails." Fear
of this collapse may be the most potent fear in civilized man.
It is our ideation that shapes our children. We provide an enriched
environment, visual, aural, tactile stimuli to furnish the best supply of
raw materials, but our own background determines what we decide makes up
a "rich environment." And then, quite naturally, we expect our children
to shape this material into a pattern verifying our commitments. We look
for agreement.
A "semantic universe" can be built only on a background of language,
but a considerable input of raw materials of every kind is necessary
to build a language. The mind has to have a world to draw on in order
to organize a world-to-view. In my opening broadside I have emphasized
thinking as the director of percepts, and surely our developed concepts
shape our world. But an initial impingement on perception by a world
"out there," of things and people, enters as the other mirror in the
two-way interaction of development of