Let us first direct our attention to him many years ago when, as an author of some papers on psychiatric subjects, he attracted the interest of several inexperienced young physicians then at the beginning of their careers. The articles, it is true, were marred by grammatical errors and vulgarities in English a little disillusioning in view of the suave and pretentious style attempted by the author. At the time, however, they impressed this little group of naive admirers as having all the originality that the author so willingly allowed others to impute to them, and, as a matter of fact, implied not too subtly himself in every line of his work.
When seen later at a small medical meeting at which no experienced psychiatrists were present, this author seemed very grand indeed. The actual ideas expressed in his paper were, to be fair, culled from the primers of psychiatry and psychology, but he had an authoritative way of making them seem entirely his own, and marvelous, too. Despite his cool and somewhat commanding air, he succeeded in giving an impression of deep modesty. Everything seemed to accentuate his relative youth which, in turn, hinted of precociousness and of great promise. The effect he had on his audience, most of whom were general practitioners from small towns, was tremendous. An opportunity to meet this splendid figure of a psychiatrist and to sit at his feet during the rest of the evening was avidly welcomed by several of his new admirers.
Dr. _____, though still in his middle thirties, enjoyed a wide and enviable reputation in a section of the country where psychiatrists were at the time almost unknown. After some work at hospitals in a distant state where he was born, he had come and set up as a specialist in his present habitat. He soon obtained a small institution in which he began to direct treatment of psychiatric patients. Reports indicate that it flourished and expanded greatly.
It was generally agreed that his learning and ability were chiefly responsible for his rapid rise to local prominence. Ephemeral rumors hinted that the idolized Dr. ____ made a practice of treating by expensive and doubtful procedures any patient of means whom he could obtain for as long as the money lasted and of then dismissing him or sending him promptly to a state hospital. It was also heard that with female patients he sometimes suggested, or even insisted on, activities (as therapy) which are specifically proscribed in the Hippocratic oath. But what physician has not had similar things said about him? The impressive bearing of the man and his reiterated and rather eloquent appeals for higher scientific consecration on the part of his colleagues snuffed out these feeble stirrings of adverse criticism which were almost universally ascribed to jealousy.
The lion of the evening seemed to put himself out in being gracious to his young admirers who were indeed nobodies on the fringe of the wonderful field which he seemed to dominate. His good fellowship was so hearty and yet so suave that one could scarcely bring himself to see the faint underlying note of condescension.
The privilege of driving this relatively great personage out to a country place where hospitality beckoned was seized by one of the young physicians, In the car an attempt was made to turn the conversation to psychiatric questions which Dr. ____ had raised in his papers. He made a few stilted replies but soon drifted from the subject into talk that was hardly more than pompous gossip. His companion, fearing that such a learned man might be talking down to spare him the embarrassment of incomprehension, kept returning to psychiatry, trying to make it plain that no such embarrassment would discount the pleasure of hearing the master. Soon the replies of this alleged master left the young man in serious doubt not only as to the great one’s knowledge, but even as to his interest in the subject.
Dr. _____, in his more popular talks and articles, as well as occasionally in those directed toward rustic medical groups, often gave psychiatric interpretations of literature and art. One of his more recent efforts in this line touched briefly but ambitiously on the works of Marcel Proust. Being then in the middle of an earnest pilgrimage among the psychopathologic wonders of Remembrance of Things Past, the fledgling psychiatrist, perhaps hoping to make a good impression but also eager for enlightenment, ventured a question on this subject.
The master at this time was calm and alert, but his remarks were so beside the point that his disciple wavered. Dr. _____ was perfectly self-assured, in fact politely pontifical, but the more he talked the clearer it became that he had not read the book at all. It finally became equally clear that even Proust’s name was unfamiliar, and the disquieting suspicion dawned on his admirer that he had never encountered it except in the excerpt from some review which he had apparently come upon and used. He had not been sufficiently interested in what he plagiarized even to retain the name and was now imputing it to some imaginary Viennese psychiatrist. He followed this pretension only for a moment, however, and only as a stepping stone to banalities with which he was familiar and about which he spoke with such deliberation and assurance that they almost seemed marvelous. Never in all this persiflage did he show the least sign of confusion or timidity. Apparently he felt that he had kept intact his impressive front. Even at this stage of the acquaintanceship it was hard to avoid suspicion that any important distinction between such a front and more substantial things was not in the orbit of his awareness.
With some remark about putting aside these grave and ponderous subjects, he sang a few lines of a surprisingly obscene ditty, clapped his companion on the back, and suggested with gusto: “When their social doings are over, let’s you and I go get us a couple of good frisky chippies!”
Despite the conviviality implicit in this remark (and no less in his tone), in some way hard to describe he still maintained the attitude of one who means to insist on his distinct superiority even while for a moment generously waiving certain restrictions of caste and allowing his companion a more respectable footing. It was only a quasi-equality that he offered, however—an indulgence such as an adult might allow a child who on some special occasion is permitted to sit up and play that he is grown. The friendship he seemed to offer was at best a morganatic one.
His discourse during the rest of the drive, especially after he had stopped on the way for “a couple of quick ones,” was coarse and humorless. It seemed impossible to strike a sincere idea from him on any subject.
On arriving at the host’s place, a merry but entirely civilized company was found drinking highballs, singing around the piano, or talking enthusiastically in small groups. The singing was in key, and the talking was not loose or aimless. For the most part the gathering was composed of people who, though lively, had some interest in general ideas as contrasted with the trivia of daily life, and a few slowly ingested drinks brought out humorous and interesting conversation. The house was not very large or the furnishing spectacular, but the place, like the men and women present, gave a strong impression to the newcomer that he was in orderly surroundings, among people of dignity and good will.
A young, very good-looking married woman who had an amateur but genuine interest in psychiatric questions and who meant to be polite to the distinguished stranger, began talking to him with enthusiasm. He soon led her off into another room. A moment later, on passing through this room, one of the young physicians was hailed by a feminine voice and, responding, found the two in a nook, the lady pulling herself away from the doctor with some effort but with equanimity. It was plain that his crudely aggressive overtures were not welcome to her and she urged the other man, who was an old friend, to join them on the davenport. Apparently trying to start a conversation, she asked the celebrity about psychoanalysis, a subject on which he sometimes expounded to lay gatherings in such a way as to give the erroneous impression that he was a qualified analyst.
“If I could get you out in a car I’d psychoanalyze you right now,” he muttered, low but loud enough to be overheard, accompanying his words with a confident leer.
The savant had evidently misread the spirit of the party. The lady rose, smiled quickly at her other companion as if to say she knew a disagreeable fellow when she saw one, and quietly rejoined a group.
Dr. _____ now expressed the desire for straight liquor, making strong, derogatory remarks about highballs and those who drank them. Ordering his former disciple to come, he strode toward the kitchen. The former disciple, by this time feeling heavily responsible for the master, made haste to follow.
In the kitchen Dr. _____ began to order the servants about in profane and petulant fashion. He had gulped one or two small whiskeys when several men wandered in looking for ice. One of these, an eager intern, expressed interest in the important investigative work which Dr. _____ had begun now, in loud, boastful tones, to announce himself engaged in.
“If you want a job there, son, just lemme know,” he thundered. Swaggering about, he made an all-embracing gesture. “At the ______ Institute I’m it. I’m the big cheese, I tell you.” No one saw fit to dispute these claims.
He began then a tirade on the subject of his executive ability, his scientific standing, his knowledge of the stock market, his sexual power, and his political influence. Having delivered himself of this, he pushed his audience aside and sauntered back into the sitting room. There he recognized an old acquaintance, a physician who had formerly been on the resident staff with him at some hospital but in an inferior capacity. This man, a newcomer, was talking with the hostess in the midst of a small group of men and women.
“Why you old son of a bitch!” Dr. ______ shouted. “Come over here and set your goddamned a__ in this chair and talk to your chief.”
It was no time for vacillation. The newcomer and the young physician who had accompanied Dr. _____ to the party caught each other’s eye and quickly hurried the celebrity to the door. He pulled back at first but soon came along satisfactorily as both companions sought so earnestly to cajole him that the words of each were lost to the other. Turning to his companions just as the door was gained, he shouted:
“Chippies, did you say?”
On the way to his hotel he began to protest. He was by no means confused from drink.
“Be goddamned if I go there! What kind of dirty bastards are you anyway?”
He became insistent—nay, even defiant—about going where he could obtain women. The new member of the party, who had seen him through many such episodes and who, to the other escort’s relief, kindly assumed charge of the case, advised that he be humored.
Dr. ____ himself, through an effervescence of obscene threats, muttered directions to the driver. Expecting to find an ordinary brothel, both of his companions were surprised to arrive at a large outdoor pavilion where an orderly dance was going on. Before a definite decision could be reached about what to do, Dr. _____ was out of the car.
“Luke! Luke!” he yelled imperiously.
A pleasant-looking man appeared.
“You’ve got to get us a good piece of t___ and get it quick, boy!” he ordered. “We’ll wait here and watch ’em dance by.”
The man called Luke, so far as could be learned, was under serious obligations to Dr. ____ and apparently meant to obey him. He confided that he had stood by his friend and benefactor in many such sprees in this town. Luke had pleasant manners and was not drinking.
“God, that’s one!” the savant muttered. “What an ____! Can you get that slut out here, Luke?” He was far enough away not to be overheard by the dancers. Luke smiled and shook his head. “There’s one!” the doctor commented again with enthusiasm. “She’s rutting! That one’s rutting! I can tell it.” His subsequent remarks can hardly be suggested even in writing on a medical subject.
His two companions left him now in custody of Luke with instructions that he be brought back to the car when this was possible without violence. Luke had asked not to be left with sole responsibility.
Some time later the doctor returned. It was difficult to judge whether or not he had gained all the satisfaction he sought. He made it plain that he had found a companion but despite his boastful garrulousness did not give the final details of the encounter. In view of his windy frankness, this caused doubt as to how far he had succeeded in his aims. Beyond question he had made considerable progress. He announced this much loudly, holding up a finger, sniffing it as he did so, and making a comment of such ingenious distastefulness that even his brother physicians blenched with revulsion. The new disciple could not but ruminate about what appraisals of woman and of human relationships, what attitudes toward basic goals, prevailed beneath this successful man’s ordinarily impressive exterior.
On the road back to his hotel he cursed truculently at other cars. He came in willingly. While going up on the elevator, he pinched the buttocks of the girl who ran the machine, apparently oblivious of several passengers. There was no gaiety or human touch in these actions, only a sullen, derogatory aggressiveness. He uttered vague challenges and threats emphasizing his combative prowess and his readiness to fight anyone who might take issue with him on any question.
On entering his room, he immediately made for a whiskey bottle and began calling raucously for ice. He became loud and offensive when his companions sought to excuse themselves, banged the table with his fists, and offered grandiosely to fight and to fight at once. He was a tall, powerful man and by no means too drunk to put on a lively and embarrassing scene if crossed.
He cursed the bellboy, who had arrived meanwhile, with such foul oaths it was incredible that he took them. Pouring himself a quick drink, he called for careful attention from his companions.
Had he told them about his children? No. They must see pictures of them. He began to praise them extravagantly, to extol his love for them in sickening terms of pathos, or pseudopathos. He spoke of his plans for their future. His entire manner began to change, and it was plain that he had determined notions about keeping all his children what he called pure. A surprisingly moralistic aspect of this psychiatrist began to appear. Cheap expressions of sentimentality fairly gushed from him. In a loosely emotional strain he recited rhymes by Edgar A. Guest about the little ones. Then he momentarily broke down and blubbered. Tears ran down his cheeks.
The bellboy had brought ice and Dr. _____ insisted on pouring out drinks, swaggering about now in his earlier manner. When his companions insisted on leaving, he promptly announced that he would accompany them. He could not be persuaded to go to bed and quickly became overbearing when persuasion continued. Though he had, of course, taken a good deal of whiskey, he seemed to know perfectly what he was doing. In fact, he did not really seem drunk in the ordinary sense of the word. Both of his companions felt that this was not a person irresponsible for the moment who must be protected and prevented from doing things he would regret. On the contrary, one was strongly impressed that this was the man himself.
Going down on the elevator he renewed his practices on the polite girl who operated it, becoming so annoying to her that his companions had to interfere. He called a taxi and insisted that all proceed at once to a brothel. Having had enough experience for one night in trying to be their brother’s keeper, his companions were obdurate. He drove off, cursing them viciously as disgraceful specimens of humanity and making derogatory remarks about their virility.
“What’s the matter with him?” asked the younger.
“Just a queer fellow that way,” replied the one who knew him well. “He’s cool and calculating, a good executive, and a rather pleasant man superficially during the week, though always a little arrogant. Even when on the job he’s not to be trusted. Every time he gets a chance, he does just about what you’ve seen him do tonight. He keeps under wraps of outer dignity at the hospital and he’s careful not to take them off under circumstances which would cause him to get in serious trouble. He passes as a great gentleman in polite but unsophisticated circles at home. But the cloak must be very uncomfortable. Almost every weekend he makes an opportunity to get it off, and he’s always then just the man you saw tonight.”
“But won’t his reputation suffer from what he did tonight?”
“Probably not. He is a long way from home. Since the town is small, he evidently assumed that al
l the people he was thrown with tonight were country bumpkins who don’t count for much and who would be overawed by him. He judges people only by superficial appearances of wealth and power, and he is seldom impressed except by gaudy display. He kept up a good front at the medical meeting. He is exceedingly shrewd, in a shallow sense, about where and when he behaves naturally. At home he often goes off into swamps with groups of men far beneath him in his own estimation and who are apparently flattered to be chosen. The trips are ostensibly to catch catfish or, in the winter, to shoot ducks; but actually it’s merely to get rowdily drunk, boast and shout inanely, and sprawl about on the ground or in muddy boats around the camp. He wasn’t drunk tonight. Out in the swamp he often passes through this obscene, blustering phase in an hour or two and reaches the sodden state that one might suspect is his goal.
“Sometimes he wants women. It doesn’t matter what women or under what circumstances. Some of the people who know him say that he prefers low, unprepossessing partners, but it has always seemed to me that there was no preference at all, and I’ve seen him often. A beautiful woman means no more to him than an imbecilic harlot, but on the other hand the harlot means no more than the beautiful woman.
“Sometimes when the idea of sex is stirring him he gets too drunk to make much of his opportunities. I’ll never forget one incident. It was about daybreak down in the swamps where we’d been fishing. He’d gone out on a sexual mission pretty drunk. We found him at a whitewashed shack. It was time to leave for home so another fellow and I rolled him off a fat illiterate washerwoman. She must have weighed two hundred pounds!
“ ‘Sakes, Boss,’ she muttered, ‘he’s far gone dis time. Ain’t done nuthin’ yet!’ It was my last fishing trip with him.”
The Mask of Sanity Page 31