Authors: John Berryman
Recovery (12 page)
It was a good night, he only woke twice. The second time, he was sitting bleary with Bill S over coffee in the Snack Room, four o'clock in the morning, when the frightful craggy face of the retired fire-chief came close to his face and said: âAlan, I have more
anger
to control than most people.' The nurse and deeply graph-absorbed orderly were too far away down the hall, twenty feet. Severance shuddered and did not confront him. âI know, Bill. I believe you.'
anger
to control than most people.' The nurse and deeply graph-absorbed orderly were too far away down the hall, twenty feet. Severance shuddered and did not confront him. âI know, Bill. I believe you.'
Â
Â
NEXT MORNING he got shot to piecesâin, of all calm
safe
places, Animal-Vegetable-Mineral. Confrontation was rare
on Saturdays, and leaders who went in for it (like Julitta) were hated as well as feared, but it wasn't the leader who happened to confront Severance. It was everybody.
safe
places, Animal-Vegetable-Mineral. Confrontation was rare
on Saturdays, and leaders who went in for it (like Julitta) were hated as well as feared, but it wasn't the leader who happened to confront Severance. It was everybody.
Saturday morning was not designed as a rest-cure quite, but at least there was no Group, and the patients were comparatively relaxed. First came a talk by a recovering alcoholic (âI have never known,' said Larry T one day, âa recovered alcoholic'âout of his boundless experience of eleven years' five-state-wide AA sobriety) on some aspect of the treatment Programme; then came exercises, one short, one long, plus a second short if there was time before lunch. Everyone stood in a circle, closed their eyes, walked forward with arms down at their sides, and milled. At a word, they opened their eyes to see where they were, then they resumed their seats and reported, one after another around the rough circle, their feelings. Both last Saturday and now, Severance was bored blind and expected to have nothing to report (though this was regarded as very suspicious and in fact rarely happened). But to his surprise his feelings were strong and different from those last Spring. Then he had detested contact; when he felt people bumping against him, he tried to avoid and generally wound up in the open. This second time in treatment at Northeast, he felt a little lonely on his own and moved eagerly about
seeking
contactâamazing. Odder still, when he found himself, secure in a tossing bundle of bodies (a Group, eh?), being by accident shoved out, he threshed to get back in, and got back in, both times. In short, he enjoyed the exercise. It was pleasant, too, always to find two or three pals hard by when he opened his near-sighted eyes. He decided he was less of a loner than he had always supposedâintensely territorial in his aggressions maybe, but also, somewhat, in his self- and Group-protectiveness.
seeking
contactâamazing. Odder still, when he found himself, secure in a tossing bundle of bodies (a Group, eh?), being by accident shoved out, he threshed to get back in, and got back in, both times. In short, he enjoyed the exercise. It was pleasant, too, always to find two or three pals hard by when he opened his near-sighted eyes. He decided he was less of a loner than he had always supposedâintensely territorial in his aggressions maybe, but also, somewhat, in his self- and Group-protectiveness.
Eye-stare was the second exercise. All sitting quietly, at a signal each tried to find another pair of eyes and secure their attention, holding it then for what seemed a very
long time indeed until at a signal they broke contact. Each then reported (1) what he felt, and (2) what he saw the other person feeling. Severance did not love this exercise either. The first time, howeverâthey did it twiceâhe had a hair-raising experience. Looking about with increasing eagerness (nobody liked to be left out, as one or two or even three always were), just as he was giving up hope of finding anybody free he found George S looking at him from halfway down the lounge, to his left, with the maniacal velocity of a Japanese train. He thought, âFuck him. I am just as serious as he is,' and glared across no space at all like his eight-inch reflector, they locked wills, and supported each other's Programmes with tooth and nail so hard that it seemed only a second when Jerry said, âOkay,' and he sat back as exhausted however as if he had run a 220. He felt terrific. He had misjudged Georgeâas he was beginning to wonder if he always misjudged everybody, him, with all his experience with men and women and colleagues and students and artists and you name it. He thought George, the short young bullet-headed businessman of his first morning, a smart-aleck, here to dry out, crack a few jokes, and go out to the nearest bar. Couldn't be more wrongâand he delivered an eloquent speech on the subject when his turn came.
long time indeed until at a signal they broke contact. Each then reported (1) what he felt, and (2) what he saw the other person feeling. Severance did not love this exercise either. The first time, howeverâthey did it twiceâhe had a hair-raising experience. Looking about with increasing eagerness (nobody liked to be left out, as one or two or even three always were), just as he was giving up hope of finding anybody free he found George S looking at him from halfway down the lounge, to his left, with the maniacal velocity of a Japanese train. He thought, âFuck him. I am just as serious as he is,' and glared across no space at all like his eight-inch reflector, they locked wills, and supported each other's Programmes with tooth and nail so hard that it seemed only a second when Jerry said, âOkay,' and he sat back as exhausted however as if he had run a 220. He felt terrific. He had misjudged Georgeâas he was beginning to wonder if he always misjudged everybody, him, with all his experience with men and women and colleagues and students and artists and you name it. He thought George, the short young bullet-headed businessman of his first morning, a smart-aleck, here to dry out, crack a few jokes, and go out to the nearest bar. Couldn't be more wrongâand he delivered an eloquent speech on the subject when his turn came.
Altogether he was way above himself, the doctor, inspired by his triumphs yesterday over the Third and especially the First Step, and he should have seen trouble coming. Maybe he didâyes, he actually in some corner of his self-exposure didâbut not vividly enough to avoid it. Indeed he invited it, he set himself up.
His account of his feelings while milling was remarkable. It would have reminded a Jamesian, had any been present (but Jasper was in one of the two other lounges), of what some insolent bitch accused the master of in
The Sacred Fount:
an expenditure of mental force equivalent to what
produced for Kant the two
Critiques
on the problem of whether or not there indeed existed between two English upper-class house-guests a relation no more important in their case than it would have been between baboons. But in Eye-stare he went further. He interrupted at will, he corrected, he interpreted, he extrapolated, he reminded, he put words in people's mouths, he read their minds, he
gave advice
(the sin against the Holy Ghostâyou were only supposed to say what you felt or what you saw the other person feeling). As the session wore on, he realized gradually that he was out of line; but he could not help it, he felt too good. His motives moreover were of the best: to share his insights. Tension mounted around the room as driving across Long Island into an electrical summer-storm, and broke in Animal-Vegetable-Mineral.
The Sacred Fount:
an expenditure of mental force equivalent to what
produced for Kant the two
Critiques
on the problem of whether or not there indeed existed between two English upper-class house-guests a relation no more important in their case than it would have been between baboons. But in Eye-stare he went further. He interrupted at will, he corrected, he interpreted, he extrapolated, he reminded, he put words in people's mouths, he read their minds, he
gave advice
(the sin against the Holy Ghostâyou were only supposed to say what you felt or what you saw the other person feeling). As the session wore on, he realized gradually that he was out of line; but he could not help it, he felt too good. His motives moreover were of the best: to share his insights. Tension mounted around the room as driving across Long Island into an electrical summer-storm, and broke in Animal-Vegetable-Mineral.
This third exercise consisted in everybody studying everybody else in silence and then, ad lib, uncalled on, saying what animal (or vegetable, or even mineral) someone reminded him of, and why. Severance had three impressions ready at once, and composed out at hilarious or penetrating length in twenty seconds. But he was wary enough to wait until someone else had spoken before he compared Maggie to the Taj Mahal, with data (the illusory white produced though by a spectrum of semi-precious stones, the massiveness with delicacy, its creation by a Venetian
Catholic
jeweller, the reflecting pool vertical in front, the broad Jumna unseen behindâleaving out an excursion into Islamic un-iconographic metaphysics). Nobody cheered. Presently Mike M said: âI see Alan as a sick old
lion
â¦'
Catholic
jeweller, the reflecting pool vertical in front, the broad Jumna unseen behindâleaving out an excursion into Islamic un-iconographic metaphysics). Nobody cheered. Presently Mike M said: âI see Alan as a sick old
lion
â¦'
Severance didn't hear the rest, composing his admiring impressions of Mike.
When he heard Mike's voice stop he said, âI see you asâ'
âWait a minute,' said Jerry, âhow do you feel about what Mike said?'
âWell, nothing particular.' Severance, an inveterate interrupter himself, was annoyed at being cut off. âIt's nice, of course, to be compared to a lionâ'
âWhat about what he
said?'
somebody broke in. âHe spoke of “roaring all the time without meaning it”; it wasn't too pretty a picture.'
said?'
somebody broke in. âHe spoke of “roaring all the time without meaning it”; it wasn't too pretty a picture.'
âI didn't hear it all. “Sick” and “old” are
true
and besides I'm case-hardened to epithets. I'm a sort of public figure for God's sake. Every time I put a book out some stranger tears me to shreds. I get quoted in the papers, in
Life
magazineâhalf the time, wrong. Who cares? You get used to it.'
true
and besides I'm case-hardened to epithets. I'm a sort of public figure for God's sake. Every time I put a book out some stranger tears me to shreds. I get quoted in the papers, in
Life
magazineâhalf the time, wrong. Who cares? You get used to it.'
âBullshit,' said somebody.
âYou must be kidding.'
âMay I kiss your foot?'
âYou
disgust
me.' This was a pretty little blonde nurse new on the Ward. She was glaring at him like a reptile.
disgust
me.' This was a pretty little blonde nurse new on the Ward. She was glaring at him like a reptile.
âYou're not the only person I disgust,' Severance threw at her from a hot broth of rage contempt resignation self-loathing self-pity, meaning him. âNo doubt about it, Miss.'
âYou don't even know my name!' she cried exasperated.
âHow could I? I never saw you before this morning.'
âWe all said our names around in the beginning. You're so superior you make me sick. You think we're all just zeroes.'
âThat's it.'
âThat's what I see.'
âHe's not even one of us.'
ââsky-high-'
ââsuperiorâ'
ââ'
ârude
to Mike.'
to Mike.'
ââ'
Making every allowance for a novice nurse with an MD miraculously under her thumb, and with the mob behind her, he felt crushed by a monotony of injustice and hatred.
He was guilty all right, but, even more, he was innocent. Severance decided he had had enough.
He was guilty all right, but, even more, he was innocent. Severance decided he had had enough.
âWhat are you feeling right now?' Jerry asked.
âTumultuous.'
He rose quietly from the end of the couch, seething, threaded between chairs and went bow-legged out down the hall to his room. Screw them. Hyperdemocracy. He hacked. His scrotum was worse than ever. He lit a cigarette, to find one already burning in his ashtray. Linda was her name he had heard it after all and forever fuck her. Snip with a uniform, Judge Lynch, hounds baying the bayou, caught redhanded, âI DID IT' He was prepared to lay claim to a certain superiority in this and that. Linc far beyond him in the other, Dr Rome elsewhere. Everybody should know their place. He knew his. Nobody better than nobody in
all
respects. Compare not. He felt suffocated, airless, in this room lounge Ward hospital cityâgashed. Truth in it, too, though, he was an arrogant man or bastard. He hated his admission to Linda. Linda eh? White-wrapt, lustrous, frigid, crap. Locating himself on the black sand beach at Saint-Tropez in May, mid-afternoon, seventeen years ago, he reved.
all
respects. Compare not. He felt suffocated, airless, in this room lounge Ward hospital cityâgashed. Truth in it, too, though, he was an arrogant man or bastard. He hated his admission to Linda. Linda eh? White-wrapt, lustrous, frigid, crap. Locating himself on the black sand beach at Saint-Tropez in May, mid-afternoon, seventeen years ago, he reved.
Knock on the door, another, hesitant. Hutch's wife came in. She looked nervous, a heavy-browed solemn short woman he hardly knew, mother of nine and veteran of Hutch. âCome on back, Alan,' she said awkwardly. âEverybody's sorry.'
âI bet,' he growled, touched though by this compassion he would as soon have expected from an eggplant. He was getting used to being a bad judge. âCome back and hear some more “superior.” Superior.'
âI don't see why it makes you mad. You are superior.'
âWhat's so superior about me? Who am I supposed to be superior to?'
âWell, me.'
âIt's not so, Wilma. Look. Hutch and I are friends,
we've suffered and stood by each other, we are both so sick we might die, do you feel I'm superior to Hutch?'
we've suffered and stood by each other, we are both so sick we might die, do you feel I'm superior to Hutch?'
She was very reluctant but it came: âNo.'
âOkay. Now you are Hutch's equal. Right? Come on, give.'
âI guess so.'
âThen how I can be superior to you?' He was talking without thinking, reaching down or out to her simplicity, refusing to give in to this insufferable abasement. People who treated him with kid gloves made him want to strangle them.
Respect
yes, but self-respect: Severance was hell on worshippers.
Respect
yes, but self-respect: Severance was hell on worshippers.
She sounded stubborn: âYou said you felt “tumultuous.” '
He felt, slightly, trapped. âDid I? That sounds a little affected of me, but I'm used to choosing my words, and that is indeed precisely how I felt. For Christ's sake, you know what the word means.'
âI'm not sure. Anyway I would never use it. That's the difference. Also, last Saturday you called Bob an “immobilized badger.” I never heard anybody say anything like that before, except maybe on TV, so I remembered it.'
âI'm
trained,
Wilma, trained. There's a superiority in expression. What of it? I can't help it. Our
feelings
are the same. It's not my fault.'
trained,
Wilma, trained. There's a superiority in expression. What of it? I can't help it. Our
feelings
are the same. It's not my fault.'
âI didn't say it was. Nobody blames you. Linda said she was sorry for insulting you. They gave her the devil. Come on back.'
The sun was doing its duty through the dirty Venetian blinds of the tidy room, though neither of them looking down saw it. Wilma waited.
Suddenly he could see no reason why not, and he gingerly followed her out, mumbling gratitude. At the end of the long corridor, friendly glances from various as he threaded through to the corner of the couch. Even young Linda gave him a guilty affectionate grin. He could tell Mike, when they broke up, that he had intended no slight,
and the comparison that had occurred to him and why. He was glad to be back. He feltâchastened.
and the comparison that had occurred to him and why. He was glad to be back. He feltâchastened.
Â
Â
From Severance's Journal
Â
Sat. aft. Oddly I feel better, after the
hell
this morning.
hell
this morning.
Why I slip:
1.
False pride (âI am unique': I am the one alcoholic who can drink and get away with it.
False pride (âI am unique': I am the one alcoholic who can drink and get away with it.
2.
Teen-age instability and overconfidence (used to getting away with
anything,
always have done, bec. loved and powerful:
I
can drink and get away with it.
Teen-age instability and overconfidence (used to getting away with
anything,
always have done, bec. loved and powerful:
I
can drink and get away with it.
3.
despair: so why not? (>suicide) I am wicked: and can't bear it sober.
despair: so why not? (>suicide) I am wicked: and can't bear it sober.
4.
Lifelong rebelliousness vs all programmes (AA) and rules and superiorsâneurotic independence (of Dr Sh's saying C might be âneurotically indomitable')
Lifelong rebelliousness vs all programmes (AA) and rules and superiorsâneurotic independence (of Dr Sh's saying C might be âneurotically indomitable')
Refusal to admit failure at
anything
(exc, at last, tennis), e.g. six (hopeless) goes at playwriting. Weirdly inverted, this.
anything
(exc, at last, tennis), e.g. six (hopeless) goes at playwriting. Weirdly inverted, this.
5.
Grandstandingâmy clockwork slips made me the star turn every week or so, esp in Dr R's Group.
Grandstandingâmy clockwork slips made me the star turn every week or so, esp in Dr R's Group.
6.
Whim. Pure feather whim. All the foregoing is no doubt true, but this is it. I need manacles. I
know
I won't get away with it, I've never had an unconfessed (known to me, i.e. remembered) slip, but off I go. âGuckenheimer. Make it a double, with water.'
Will I really never pronounce those frightful words again? Not today, anyway.
Whim. Pure feather whim. All the foregoing is no doubt true, but this is it. I need manacles. I
know
I won't get away with it, I've never had an unconfessed (known to me, i.e. remembered) slip, but off I go. âGuckenheimer. Make it a double, with water.'
Will I really never pronounce those frightful words again? Not today, anyway.
Almost unbearably depressing, though. I need a programme of iron. AA will never do it. Maybe becoming a Jew?
Â
Â
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