faith in our work together. I recall that you spent inordinate amounts of time exploring
my relationships—with others and especially with you. That never made sense to me. It
didn`t then. It still doesn`t. As time went by, it became painful to meet with you, painful
to keep on exploring our relationship as though it were real or enduring or anything other
than what it truly was:a purchase of service. ” Philip stopped and looked at Julius with
his palms up as though to say, «You wanted it straight—there it is.»
Julius was stunned. Someone else`s voice answered for him: «That`s straight, all
right. Thanks, Philip. Now, the rest of your story. What`s happened to you since?»
Philip placed his palms together, rested his chin on his fingertips, stared up at the
ceiling to collect his thoughts, and continued. «Well, let`s see. I`ll start with work. My
expertise in developing hormonal agents to block insect reproduction had important
implications for the company, and my salary escalated. But I grew profoundly bored with
chemistry. Then, at age thirty, one of my father`s trust funds matured and was turned over
to me. It was a gift of freedom. I had enough to live on for several years, and I canceled
my subscriptions to the chemistry journals, dropped out of the work force, and turned my
attention to what I really wanted in life—the pursuit of wisdom.
«I was still miserable, still anxious, still sexually driven. I tried other therapists, but
none helped me any more than you had. One therapist, who had studied with Jung,
suggested I needed more than psychological therapy. He said that for an addict like me
the best hope for release was a spiritual conversion. His suggestion led me to religious
philosophy—especially the ideas and practices of the Far East—they were the only ones
that made any sense. All other religious systems failed to explore the fundamental
philosophical questions but instead used God as a method of avoiding true philosophical
analysis. I even put in a few weeks at meditation retreats. That was not without interest. It
didn`t halt the obsession, but nonetheless I had a feeling that there was something
important there. I just wasn`t yet ready for it.
«Meanwhile, except for the interlude of forced chastity in the ashram, and even
there I managed to find a few sliding doors, I continued the sexual hunt. As before, I had
sex with a lot of women, by the dozens, by the hundreds. Sometimes two a day,
anywhere, anytime I could find them—the same as when I was seeing you. Sex once,
occasionally twice, with a woman and then moving on. Never exciting after that; you
know the old saying: вЂ?You can only have sex for the first time with the same girl once.`”
Philip lifted his chin from his fingertips and turned to Julius.
«That last comment was meant to be humor, Dr. Hertzfeld. I remember you once
said it was remarkable that, in all our hours together, I never once told you a joke.»
Julius, now in no mood for levity, forced his lips into a grin even though he
recognized Philip`s little bon mot as something he himself had once said to Philip. Julius
imagined Philip as a mechanical doll with a large key jutting from the top of his head.
Time to wind him up again. «And then what happened?»
Gazing at the ceiling, Philip continued. «Then one day I reached a momentous
decision. Since no therapist had helped in any way—and, sorry to say, Dr. Hertzfeld, that
included you—”
«I`m beginning to get that particular point,” Julius interjected, then quickly added,
«No apologies needed. You`re simply answering my questions honestly.»
«Sorry, didn`t mean to dwell on that. To continue, since therapy had not been the
answer, I decided to heal myself—a course of bibliotherapy, assimilating the relevant
thoughts of the wisest men whoever lived. So I began systematically reading the entire
corpus of philosophy starting with the Greek pre–Socratics and working my way up to
Popper, Rawls, and Quine. After a year of study my compulsion was no better, but I
arrived at some important decisions: namely, that I was on the right track and that
philosophy was my home. This was a major step—I remember how much you and I had
talked about my never being at home anywhere in the world.»
Julius nodded. «Yes, I remember that, too.»
«I decided that, as long as I was going to spend years reading philosophy, I might
as well make a profession of it. My money wouldn`t last forever. So I entered the Ph.D.
program in philosophy at Columbia. I did well, wrote a competent dissertation, and five
years later had a doctorate in philosophy. I embarked on a teaching career and then, just a
couple of years ago, became interested in applied or, as I prefer to think of it, �clinical
philosophy.` And that brings me up to today.»
«You haven`t finished telling me about being healed.»
«Well, at Columbia, midway through my reading, I developed a relationship with a
therapist, the perfect therapist, the therapist who offered me what no one else had been
able to give.»
«In New York, eh? What was his name? At Columbia? What institute did he
belong to?»
«His name was Arthur...” Philip paused and watched Julius with a trace of a grin
on his lips.
«Arthur?»
«Yes, Arthur Schopenhauer, my therapist.»
«Schopenhauer? You`re putting me on, Philip.»
«I`ve never been more serious.»
«I know little about Schopenhauer: just the clichГ©s about his gloomy pessimism.
I`ve never heard his name mentioned in the context of therapy. How was he able to help?
What—?»
«I hate to cut you off, Dr. Hertzfeld, but I have a client coming and I still refuse to
be late—that hasn`t changed. Please give me your card. Some other time I`ll tell you
more about him. He was the therapist meant for me. I don`t exaggerate when I say I owe
my life to the genius of Arthur Schopenhauer.»
4
1787—The
Genius: Stormy
Beginning
and False Start
_________________________
Talentis like a marksman who
hits a target which others
cannot reach; genius is like a
marksman who hits a target
which others cannot see.
_________________________
Stormy Beginning—The genius was only four inches long when the storms began. In
September of 1787 his enveloping amniotic sea roiled, tossed him to and fro, and
threatened his fragile attachment to the uterine shore. The sea waters reeked of anger and
fear. The sour chemicals of nostalgia and despair enveloped him. Gone forever were
sweet balmy bobbing days. With nowhere to turn and no hope of comfort, his tiny neural
