The Cat in the Hat is a classic trickster. He arrives unbidden, when you need him but don't know you need him. When circumstances seem bleak but you aren't aware enough to just ask. You can do that?! You can cry out, call up the godhead with complaint or supplication? Sure. Go ahead. Try it.
His moves are sudden and limbs akimbo, one minute he's juggling your fish and the next he's unleashing Things that run even more amok than he. They are chaos in dual aspects. He controls them; they are his minions. He is inciting a riot, an epiphany of unreason.
There is no control, or nothing to control, we learn over the course of an afternoon with The Cat. Our sense of order, tenuous at best, as expressed by the scolding Fish, is baseless. So why not let go, let it all unfurl into the atmosphere around us, with cakes, cups, and ships flying free. The Fish is constantly hectoring the children, reminding them of the specter of their mother, who must be The Unmanifest.
He tempts. He jokes. He makes no sense. He speaks nonsense. He riddles and makes ordinary things appear in other orders, for that is the reality of Reality. And that is why The Trickster comes to us, to children alone in a house on a rainy day, to a hero on his journey, a girl alone at the well.This manifestation of the divine psychological process is important because we seek to elude confusion.
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