The Schopenhauer Cure (27 page)

Arthur's answer to his question anticipates by 150 years much of what is to follow in the fields of evolutionary psychology and psychoanalysis. He states that what is really guiding us is not
our
need but
the need of our species.
"The true end of the whole love story, though the parties concerned are unaware of it, is that a particular child may be begotten," he continues. "Therefore what here guides man is really an instinct directed to what is best in the species, whereas man himself imagines he is seeking merely a heightening of his own pleasure."

He discusses in great detail the principles governing the choice of sexual partner ("everyone loves what they lack") but repeatedly emphasizes that the choice is actually being made by the genius of the species. "The man is taken possession of by the spirit of the species, is now ruled by it, and no longer belongs to himself...for ultimately he seeks not his interests but that of a third person who has yet to come into existence."

Repeatedly, he emphasizes that the force of sex is irresistible. "For he is under the influence of an impulse akin to the instinct of insects, which compels him to pursue his purposes unconditionally, in spite of all the arguments of his faculty of reason.... He cannot give it up." And reason has little to do with it.

Often the individual desires someone whom reason tells him to avoid, but the voice of reason is impotent against the force of sexual passion. He cites the Latin dramatist Terence: "What is not endowed with reason cannot possibly be ruled with reason."

It has often been noted that three major revolutions in thought have threatened the idea of human centrality. First, Copernicus demonstrated that Earth was not the center about which all celestial bodies revolved. Next, Darwin showed us that we were not central in the chain of life but, like all other creatures, had evolved from other life-forms. Third, Freud demonstrated that we are not masters in our own house--that much of our behavior is governed by forces outside of our consciousness. There is no doubt that Freud's unacknowledged co-revolutionary was Arthur Schopenhauer, who, long before Freud's birth, had posited that we are governed by deep biological forces and then delude ourselves into thinking that we consciously choose our activities.

23

_________________________

If
I

maintain

silence

about my secret it is my

prisoner; if I let it

slip from my tongue, I am

its prisoner. On the tree

of

silence

hang

the

fruits of peace.

_________________________

Bonnie's concern about the group proved unfounded: at the next meeting everyone was not only present but early--except for Philip, who strode in briskly and took his seat at exactly four-thirty.

A short silence at the beginning of a group therapy session is not unusual.

Members learn quickly not to open the meeting capriciously because the first speaker is generally fated to receive much time and attention. But Philip, graceless as ever, did not wait. Avoiding eye contact, he began speaking in his unemotional, disembodied voice.

"The account given by our returning member last week--"

"Name of Pam," interrupted Tony.

Philip nodded without looking up. "Pam's description of my list was incomplete. It was more than a simple list of the women with whom I had sex that month; it contained not only names but phone numbers--"

Pam interrupted, "Oh. Phone numbers! Oh, well then, excuse me--that makes it all okay!"

Undeterred, Philip continued, "The list also contained a brief description of the lovemaking preferences of each woman."

"Lovemaking preferences?" asked Tony.

"Yes, what each woman preferred in the sexual act. Such as, likes it from the rear...sixty-nine...long foreplay required...begin with lengthy back massage...massage oil...gets off on spanking...breast sucking...likes handcuffs...tied to bedposts a big turn-on."

Julius winced. Good God! Where was Philip going--was he heading in the direction of revealing Pam's preferences? Big trouble ahead.

Before he could head Philip off, Pam shot out, "You are truly disgusting.

Repulsive." Pam leaned forward as if preparing to rise from her chair and leave.

Bonnie put her hand on Pam's arm to detain her and said to Philip, "I'm with Pam on this one. Philip, are you crazy? Why on earth would you brag about those things?"

"Yeah," said Gill, "I just don't get you. Look, here you are under blistering attack--I mean I'm wincing for you, man. I could not face what you're facing.

But what do you do? You throw gasoline on the fire and you say,
'Burn me some more.'
No offense, Philip, but, shit, how can you do that?"

"Yeah, that's what I see too," said Stuart. "If I were in your situation, I'd want to put myself in the best possible light--not give the enemy more ammunition."

Julius tried to soothe the waters. "Philip, what have you been feeling the last few minutes?"

"Well, I had something important to say about that list and I said it--so naturally I feel entirely satisfied with the course of events."

Julius persevered. In his most gentle voice, he said, "Several people responded to you, Philip. What are you feeling about that?"

"That's where I don't go, Julius. That way lies despair. Better, far better, for me to keep my own counsel."

Julius pulled out another device from his grab bag--that venerable but reliable strategy of conditional voice. "Philip, try a thought experiment.

Philosophers do that everyday. I understand your wish to retain your equanimity, but humor me for a moment and try to imagine that
you were going to have feelings
about others' responses today. W
hat might they be?
"

Philip considered Julius's question, smiled slightly, and nodded his head, perhaps as a token of admiration for the ingenuity of Julius's ploy.

"An experiment? Fair enough. If I
were
to have had feelings, I would have felt frightened by the ferocity of Pam's interruption. I am not unaware that she wishes to do me grievous harm."

Pam started to interject, but Julius immediately signaled her to be silent and allow Philip to continue.

"Then Bonnie inquired about the point of my bragging, and then Gill and Stuart asked about why I was attempting to immolate myself."

"Immo what?" asked Tony.

Pam opened her mouth to respond, but Philip instantaneously said, "
Immolate
--to sacrifice oneself by fire."

"Okay, you're partway there," Julius persisted. "You've accurately described what happened--what Bonnie, Gill, and Stuart said. Now try to continue with the experiment--
if you were going to have feelings about their comments.
"

"Right, I've gotten off track. No doubt you would conclude my

unconscious is making an appearance."

Julius nodded. "Go on, Philip."

"I would feel entirely misunderstood. I would say to Pam, 'I wasn't trying to make it okay.' To Bonnie, I'd say, 'Bragging was the last thing in my mind.'

To Gill and Stuart, I'd say, 'Thank you for the warning, but I was not attempting to injure myself.'"

"Okay, now we know what you
weren't
doing. So tell us what you
were doing? I'm bewildered," said Bonnie.

"I was simply setting the record straight. Following the dictates of reason.

Nothing less, nothing more."

The group lapsed into that state of mind that always ensued from an interaction with Philip. He was so rational, so imperially above the strife of everyday discourse. Everyone looked down, bewildered, disoriented. Tony shook his head.

"I comprehend every point you made," said Julius, "except the last one--

that last phrase--'nothing less, nothing more.' That I cannot buy. Why volunteer that particular aspect of the truth now, today, at this juncture, in your relationship with us? You were eager to do it. You couldn't wait. I could feel your pressure to get it out. Despite the obvious negative consequences pointed out by the group, you were determined to jump in immediately today. Let's try to figure out why.

What was the payoff for you?"

"That's not hard," responded Philip. "I know exactly why I said it."

Silence. Everyone waited.

"I'm getting pissed," said Tony. "Philip, you've got us hanging; you do this all the time. Do we have to beg you for the next sentence?"

"Sorry?" asked Philip, his face in a puzzled scrunch.

"You've got us all waiting to hear why you said it," said Bonnie. "Are you being deliberately inscrutable here?"

"Perhaps you think we don't want to know, that we have no curiosity about what you're going to say," suggested Rebecca.

"It's none of these," said Philip. "It's got nothing to do with you. It just happens that my focus fades and I turn inward."

"This sounds important," said Julius. "I think there's a reason for that--and it involves your interactions with the group. If you truly believe that your behavior is capricious, something like rain that just happens, then you're assuming a helpless stance. There is a reason you periodically avoid us and turn inward: I think it's because some anxiety has welled up in you. In this instance your loss of focus had to do with how you opened the meeting. Can you pursue that?"

Philip was silent, pondering Julius's words.

Julius had his ways of ratcheting up the pressure when treating other therapists: "Another thing, Philip, if you're going to be seeing clients or leading a group in the future, losing focus and turning inward is going to be a real liability in your work."

That did the trick. Philip immediately said, "I chose to reveal what I did for self-protection. Pam knew everything about the list, and I was uncomfortable about her being able to drop that bomb at any time. Revealing it myself was the lesser of two evils." Philip hesitated, inhaled, then continued: "There's more to say. I still haven't addressed Bonnie's accusation of bragging. I kept that list because I had been extremely sexually active that year. My three-week relationship with Pam's friend Molly was unusual; I preferred one-night stands, though I occasionally went back for seconds when I felt particularly sexually pressured and couldn't meet someone new. When I saw the same woman a second time, I needed the notes to refresh my memory and make the woman feel I remembered her. If she knew the truth--that she was just one of many--I might not succeed. No braggadoccio whatsoever in these notes. They were meant for my private use only. Molly had the key to my apartment, invaded my privacy, forced open a locked desk drawer, and stole the list."

"You telling us," asked Tony, wide-eyed, "you had sex with so many women you had to keep notes so you wouldn't mix them up? I mean, what are we talking about here? How many? How'd you pull this off?"

Julius groaned to himself. Things were complicated enough already without Tony's envy-laced question. The tension between Pam and Philip was already unbearably high. It needed defusing, but Julius wasn't sure how to do it.

Unexpected help arrived from Rebecca, who suddenly altered the entire course of the meeting.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I need some time in the group today," she said.

"I've been thinking all week about revealing something I've never told anyone, not even you, Julius. This is, I think, my darkest secret." Rebecca paused, looked around the group. All eyes were on her. "This okay?"

Julius turned to Pam and Philip. "How about you two? Are we leaving you with too many strong feelings?"

"Okay with me," said Pam. "I need some time out."

"And you, Philip?"

Philip nodded.

"More than okay with me," said Julius, "unless you want to mention first about why you've decided to reveal this today."

"No, it's better for me to plunge in while I still have the courage. Here goes: About fifteen years ago, about two weeks before my wedding, my company sent me to the Las Vegas computer expo to do a presentation on their new product. I had already handed in my resignation, and this presentation was to be my last assignment--I was thinking then that perhaps it might be the last one in my life. I was already two months pregnant, and Jack and I had planned a month-long honeymoon and then I was to turn to house and baby. This was long before law school--I had no idea whether I'd ever work again.

"Well, I fell into in a strange mood in Vegas. One evening, to my surprise, I found myself in the bar of Caesar's Palace. I ordered a drink and soon fell into an intimate conversation with a well-dressed man. He asked if I was a working girl. I was unfamiliar with that phrase and nodded yes. Before I could say more about my job he asked me my fee. I gulped, looked him over--he was cute--and said, 'One hundred fifty dollars.' He nodded and up we went to his room. And then the next night I moved to the Tropicana and did it again. Same fee. And my last night there I did a freebie."

Rebecca took a deep breath, exhaled loudly. "And that's it. I've never told anyone about this. Sometimes I've considered telling Jack but never did. What would have been the point? Nothing but grief for him and precious little absolution for me.... And...Tony, you bastard...goddammit, that's not funny!"

Tony, who had taken his wallet out and was counting his money, stopped in his tracks and, with a sheepish smile, said, "Just wanted to lighten things up."

"I don't want it to be made light of. This is heavy stuff for me." Rebecca flashed one of her remarkable smiles, which she could conjure up at will. "There it is--true confessions." She turned to Stuart, who on more than one occasion had referred to her as a porcelain doll. "So, what do you think? Maybe Rebecca's not the dainty doll she appears to be."