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    The Schopenhauer Cure

    Page 36
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      For they are just the failings of mankind to which we

      also belong and accordingly we have all the same

      failings buried within ourselves. We should not be

      indignant with others for these vices simply because

      they do not appear in us at the moment.

      Parerga and Paralipomena was a great success,

      generating several compilations of selections published

      separately under more popular titles (Aphorisms on

      Practical Wisdom, Counsels and Maxims, The Wisdom of

      Life, Living Thoughts of Schopenhauer, The Art of

      Literature, Religion: A Dialogue). Soon Schopenhauer's words were on the tongue of the entire educated German

      public. Even in neighboring Denmark, Kierkegaard wrote

      in his 1854 journal that "all the literary gossips, journalists, and authorlings have begun to busy themselves with S."

      Praise ultimately appeared in the press. Great Britain,

      Arthur's almost-birthplace, was the first to honor him with

      a stunning review of all of his work (titled "Iconoclasm in

      German Philosophy") in the prestigious Westminister

      Review. Shortly afterward this review was translated and widely read in Germany. Similar articles quickly appeared

      in France and Italy, and Schopenhauer's life changed

      dramatically.

      Curious visitors flocked to the Englisher Hof to eye

      the philosopher at lunch. Richard Wagner sent him the

      original libretto of the Ring of the Nibelungs with a

      dedication. Universities began to teach his work, learned

      societies issued invitations for membership, eulogistic

      letters arrived in the post, his previous books reappeared in

      bookstores, townspeople greeted him on his walks, and pet

      stores had a run on poodles similar to Schopenhauer's.

      Schopenhauer's rapture and delight were very

      evident. He wrote, "If a cat is stroked it purrs; and just as

      inevitably if a man is praised, sweet rapture and delight are

      reflected in his face, and expressed the hope" that "the

      morning sun of my fame will gild with its first rays the

      evening of my life and dispel its gloom." When the eminent

      sculptress Elisabeth Ney visited Frankfurt for four weeks to

      do a bust of him, Arthur purred, "She works all day at my

      place. When I get home we have coffee together, we sit

      together on the sofa, and I feel as if I were married."

      Not since the best years of his life--the two years

      spent as a child in Le Havre with the de Blesimaire

      family--had Arthur spoken so tenderly and contentedly of

      domestic life.

      40

      _________________________

      Atthe end

      of

      his

      life,

      no

      man, if he

      be sincere

      and

      in

      possession

      of

      his

      faculties,

      would ever

      wish to go

      though it

      again.

      Rather

      than this,

      he

      will

      much

      prefer to

      choose

      complete

      nonexisten

      ce.

      _________________________

      Members filed in for the penultimate meeting with

      contrasting feelings: some felt sorrow about the looming

      end of the group, some thought about personal work they

      had left undone, some scanned Julius's face as though to

      imprint it in their minds, and all were enormously curious

      about Pam's response to Philip's revelations of the previous

      meeting.

      But Pam did not offer satisfaction; instead she

      extracted a sheet of paper from her purse, slowly unfolded

      it, and read aloud:

      A carpenter does not come up to me and say, "listen to

      me discourse about the art of carpentry." Instead he

      makes a contract for a house and builds it.... Do the

      same thing yourself: eat like a man; drink like a man....

      get married, have children, take part in civic life, learn

      how to put up with insults, and tolerate other people.

      Then, turning to Philip, she said, "Written by...guess

      who?"

      Philip shrugged.

      "Your man, Epictetus. That's why I bring it here. I

      know you revere him--you brought Julius one of his

      fables. Why am I quoting him? I'm merely speaking to the

      point raised by Tony and Stuart and others last week that

      you've never been 'in life.' I believe that you selectively

      pick and choose various passages from philosophers to

      support your position and--"

      Gill interrupted, "Pam, this is our next-to-last

      meeting. If this is another one of your get-Philip tirades, I

      don't personally feel I've got time for it. Do what you tell

      me to do. Get real and talk about your feelings. You must

      have had strong reactions to what Philip said about you last

      meeting."

      "No, no, hear me out," Pam said quickly. "This is not

      'get-Philip' stuff. My motivations are different. The iron is

      cooling. I'm trying to say something helpful to Philip. I

      think he's compounded his life avoidance by selectively

      gathering support from philosophy. He draws from

      Epictetus when he needs him and overlooks the same

      Epictetus when he doesn't."

      "That's a great point, Pam," said Rebecca. "You're

      putting your finger on something important. You know, I

      bought a copy of a little paperback called the Wisdom of

      Schopenhauer at a used-book store and have been

      skimming it the last couple of nights. It's all over the place: some of it's fabulous and some outrageous. There's a

      passage I read yesterday that floored me. He says that if we

      go into any cemetery, knock on the tombstones, and ask the

      spirits dwelling there if they'd like to live again, every one of them would emphatically refuse." She turned to Philip.

      "You believe this?" Without waiting for him to respond,

      Rebecca continued, "Well, I don't. He's not speaking for

      me. I'd like to check it out. Could we get a vote here?"

      "I'd choose to live again. Life's a bitch, but it's a

      kick too," said Tony. A chorus of "me too" spread around

      the group. "I hesitate for one reason," explained Julius.

      "The idea of once again bearing the pain of my wife's

      death; but, even so, I'd say yes. I love being alive." Only

      Philip held silent.

      "Sorry," he said, "but I agree with Schopenhauer.

      Life is suffering from start to finish. It would have been

      better if life, all life, had never been."

      "Better not have been for whom ?" asked Pam. "For

      Schopenhauer, you mean? Apparently not for the folks in

      this room."

      "Schopenhauer is hardly alone in his position.

      Consider the millions of Buddhists. Remember that the first

      of the Buddha's four noble truths is that life is suffering."

      "Is that a serious answer, Philip? What's happened to

      you? When I was a student you lectured brilliantly on

      modes of philosophical argument. What kind of argument

      is this? Truth by proclamation? Truth by appeal to

      authority? That's the way of religion, and yet sure
    ly you

      follow Schopenhauer in his atheism. And has it occurred to

      you that Schopenhauer was chronically depressed and that

      the Buddha lived in a place and at a time when human

      suffering--pestilence, starvation--was rampant and that,

      indeed, life then was unmitigated suffering for most? Has it

      occurred--"

      "What kind of philosophic argument is that ?"

      retorted Philip. "Every halfway literate sophomore student

      knows the difference between genesis and validity."

      "Wait, wait," interjected Julius. "Let's pause for a

      minute and check in." He scanned the group. "How are the

      rest of you guys feeling about the last few minutes?"

      "Good stuff," said Tony. "They were really duking it

      out. But with padded gloves."

      "Right, better than silent glares and hidden daggers,"

      said Gill.

      "Yeah, I liked it a lot better," agreed Bonnie. "Sparks

      were flying between Pam and Philip but cooler sparks."

      "Me, too," said Stuart, "until the last couple of

      minutes."

      "Stuart," said Julius, "in your first meeting here you

      said your wife accused you of talking in telegrams."

      "Yep, you're stingy today. A few more words won't

      cost you any more," said Bonnie.

      "Right. Maybe I'm regressing because...you know,

      this being the next-to-last meeting. Can't be sure--I don't

      feel sad; as usual I have to infer my feelings. Here's

      something I do know, Julius. I love your taking care of me,

      calling on me, staying on my case. How's that?"

      "That's great, and I'll keep doing it. You said you

      liked Pam and Philip talking 'until the last couple of

      minutes.' So, what about those last minutes?"

      "At first it felt good-natured--more like a family

      squabble. But that last comment by Philip--that had a nasty

      edge to it. I mean the comment starting with" Every

      halfway literate sophomore student. "I didn't like that,

      Philip. It was a put-down. If you said that to me, I'd have

      felt insulted. And threatened--I'm not even sure what

      philosophical arguement means."

      "I agree with Stuart, "said Rebecca. "Tell me, Philip,

      what were you feeling? Did you want to insult Pam?"

      "Insult her? No, not at all. That was the last thing I

      wanted to do," responded Philip. "I

      felt...uh... uplifted or released --not sure of the right word--by her saying the iron was no longer red-hot. Let's

      see, what else? I knew that one of her motives in bringing

      in the quote by Epictetus was to trap and confound me.

      That was obvious. But I kept in mind what Julius said to

      me when I brought in that fable for him--that he was

      pleased by the effort and the caring behind the act."

      "So," said Tony, "let me pull a Julius. Here's what I

      hear: you intended one thing but your words resulted in

      another thing entirely."

      Philip looked quizzical.

      "I mean," said Tony, "you said that insulting Pam

      was the last thing in the world you wanted to do. Yet that

      was exactly what you did, wasn't it?"

      Philip, reluctantly, nodded agreement.

      "So," Tony continued, sounding like a triumphant

      attorney in cross-examination, "you need to get your

      intentions and your behavior on the same page. You need

      to get them congruent --do I have the word right?" Tony looked at Julius who nodded his head. "And that's why you should be in therapy. Congruence is what therapy is all

      about."

      "Well argued," said Philip. "I have no

      counterargument. You're right. That is why I need

      therapy."

      "What?" Tony could not believe his ears. He glanced

      at Julius, who gave him an "atta boy" nod.

      "Catch me, I'm going to faint," said Rebecca who

      slumped back in her chair.

      "Me, too," echoed Bonnie and Gill, slumping back as

      well.

      Philip looked around at the sight of half the group in

      mock unconsciousness and, for the first time since entering

      the group, grinned.

      Philip ended the group levity by returning to the

      issue of his personal approach to counseling. "Rebecca's

      discussion of Schopenhauer's tombstone comment implies

      that my approach or any approach based on his point of

      view is invalid. Lest you forget, I struggled for years with a serious affliction which Julius failed to cure, and I was only healed by patterning my path upon Schopenhauer's."

      Julius instantly supported Philip. "I don't deny

      you've done good work. Most therapists today would say

      it's not possible to overcome a severe sex addiction on your

      own. Contemporary treatment involves long-term work--I

      mean many years--in a structured recovery program

      consisting of individual therapy and groups meeting

      multiple times a week often along twelve-step principles.

      But no such recovery program existed back then, and,

      frankly, I doubt whether you would have found it

      compatible.

      "So," Julius continued, "I want to go on record as

      saying that your feat is remarkable: the techniques by

      which you controlled your runaway drives worked--better

      than anything I offered, even though I gave it my best

      shot."

      "I've never thought otherwise," said Philip.

      "But, here's a question, Philip, is there a possibility

      your methods are now superannuated?"

      "Super...what?" asked Tony.

      "Superannuated," whispered Philip, who was sitting

      next to Tony--super (Latin for beyond ) plus annus

      ( years)--in other words, outmoded, obsolete. "

      Tony nodded thanks.

      "The other day," Julius continued, "when I was

      wondering how to bring this home to you, an image came

      to mind. Imagine an ancient city that built a high wall to

      protect it from the wild torrents of an adjacent river.

      Centuries later, though the river had long dried up, the city

      still invested considerable resources in maintaining that

      wall."

      "You mean," said Tony, "continuing to use some

      solution even when the problem had gone away--like

      wearing a bandage long after the cut had healed."

      "Precisely," said Julius. "Maybe the bandage is a

      better metaphor--right to the point."

      "I don't agree," Philip addressed both Julius and

      Tony, "that my wound is healed or that containment is no

      longer necessary. For proof one need only look at my

      extreme discomfort levels in this group."

      "That's not a good measure," said Julius. "You've

      had little experience with intimacy, with expressing

      feelings directly, with getting feedback and disclosing

      yourself. This is new for you; you've been in seclusion for

      years, and I toss you into this high-powered group. Of

      course that's going to feel uncomfortable. But what I'm really referring to is the overt problem, the sexual

      compulsion--and perhaps that's gone. You're older, been

      through a lot, maybe you've entered the land of gonadal

      tranquillity. Nice place, good sunny climate. I've dwelled

      there comfortably for many years."

      "I would say," Tony added, "that Schopenhauer has

    &n
    bsp; cured you, but now you need to be saved from the

      Schopenhauer cure."

      Philip opened his mouth to respond but then closed it

      and pondered Tony's statement.

      "Another thing," Julius added, "when you think

      about your stress in the group, don't forget the heavy-duty

      pain and guilt you've faced here as a result of a chance

      encounter with a person from your past."

      "I've heard nothing about guilt from Philip," said

      Pam.

      Philip responded instantly, facing Pam. "If I had

      known then what I know now about the years of pain you've suffered, I would never have done what I did. As I said before, you were unlucky to have crossed my path. The

      person I was then did not think of consequences. Automatic

      pilot--that person was on automatic pilot."

      Pam nodded and caught his glance. Philip held it for

      a moment and then turned his attention back to Julius. "I

      grasp your point about the magnitude of the interpersonal

      stress in this group, but I insist that is only part of the

      picture. And it is here that our basic orientations are at

      odds. I agree there is stress in relationships with other

      beings. And possibly reward as well--I'll grant you that

      last point though I myself have never known it.

      Nonetheless, I'm convinced that in the very state of

      existing there is tragedy and suffering. Permit me to cite

      Schopenhauer for only two minutes."

      Without waiting for a response, Philip, staring

      upward, began reciting:

      In the first place a man never is happy but spends his

      whole life in striving after something which he thinks

      will make him so; he seldom attains his goal and, when

      he does it is only to be disappointed: he is mostly

      shipwrecked in the end, and comes into harbor with

      masts and riggings gone. And then it is all one whether

      he has been happy or miserable; for his life was never

      anything more than a present moment, always

      vanishing; and now it is over.

      After a long silence Rebecca said, "That sends

      shivers up my back."

      "I know what you mean," said Bonnie.

      "I know I'm sounding like an uptight English

      professor," said Pam, addressing the entire group, "but I

      urge you, don't be misled by rhetoric. That quote adds

      nothing of substance to what Philip has been saying all

      along; it only says it more persuasively. Schopenhauer was

      a brilliant stylist and wrote the best prose of any

      philosopher. Except for Nietzsche, of course--no one

     


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