The Schopenhauer Cure(70)



“It hasn’t escaped me,” Philip said quickly, “that what has been revealed here today, what has caused so much needless torment, for me, for others, flows from the supreme and universal power of sex, which my other therapist, Schopenhauer, taught me is absolutely inbuilt, or, as we would say today, hardwired into us.

“I know many of Schopenhauer’s words about this since I’ve often cited them in lectures. Let me quote a few: ‘[Sex is] the strongest and most active of all motives…. It is the ultimate goal of almost all human effort. It…interrupts every hour the most serious occupations, and sometimes perplexes…the greatest human minds.’ ‘Sex does not hesitate to intrude with its trash, and to interfere with…the investigations of the learned—’”

“Philip, this is important stuff, but, before we stop today, try to speak about your feelings rather than Schopenhauer’s,” interrupted Julius.

“I’ll try, but let me continue—just one more last sentence: ‘Every day it destroys the most valuable relationships. Indeed it robs of all conscience those who were previously honorable and upright.’” Philip stopped. “That’s what I wanted to say; I’m finished.”

“Haven’t heard feelings, Philip,” said Tony, grinning at the opportunity to confront Philip.

Philip nodded. “Just dismay about how we poor mortals, we fellow sufferers, are such victims of biology that we fill our lives with guilt about natural acts as Stuart and Rebecca have done. And that we all have the goal of extricating ourselves from the thralldom of sex.”

After a few moments of the customary silence following one of Philip’s pronouncements, Stuart turned to Pam: “I’d sure like to hear from you today. What do you feel about what I’ve laid on the group? You were on my mind when I thought about confessing here. I’ve been thinking that I’ve put you in a tough place because in a way you can’t forgive me without also forgiving Philip.”

“I feel as much respect for you as ever, Stuart. And don’t forget that I’m sensitized to this issue. I was exploited by a doctor—Earl, my soon-to-be ex-husband, was my gynecologist.”

“Exactly,” said Stuart. “That compounds it. “How can you forgive me without also forgiving both Philip and Earl?”

“Not true, Stuart. You’re a moral person—after listening to you today and hearing of your remorse, I feel that way even more. And that incident in the Miami hotel doesn’t grab me—ever read Fear of Flying?”

Seeing Stuart shake his head, Pam went on, “Take a look at the book. Erica Jong would call what you had a simple ‘zipless fuck’; it was mutual, spontaneous coupling, you were kind, no one got hurt, you took responsibility to make sure she was okay afterward. And you’ve used the incident as a moral compass since then. But Philip? What can one say about a man who models himself after Heidegger and Schopenhauer? Of all philosophers who ever lived, those were the two who were the most abject failures as human beings. What Philip did was unforgivable, predatory, without remorse—”

Bonnie interrupted, “Hold on, Pam, did you notice that when Julius tried to stop Philip, he absolutely insisted on one more sentence about sex robbing the person of conscience and destroying relationships. I wonder, wasn’t that something about remorse? And wasn’t that directed to you?”

“He has something to say? Let him say it to me. I don’t want to hear it from Schopenhauer.”

“Let me butt in here,” said Rebecca. “I left the last meeting feeling bad for you and for all of us, including Philip, who, let’s face it, has been pissed on here. At home I starting thinking of Jesus’s remark about how he who is without sin should cast the first stone—that’s got a lot to do with what I revealed today.”

“We’ve got to stop,” said Julius, “but, Philip, this is exactly what I was fishing for when I asked you about your feelings.”

Philip shook his head in puzzlement.

“Have you understood that today you were given a gift by both Rebecca and Stuart?”

Philip continued to shake his head. “I don’t understand.”

“That’s your homework assignment, Philip. I want you to meditate on the gifts you were given today.”





24




* * *



If we do not want to be a plaything in the hands of every rogue and the object of every fool’s ridicule, the first rule is to be reserved and inaccessible.



* * *





Philip walked for hours after the meeting, past the Palace of Fine Arts, that decaying colonnade built for the 1915 International Exposition, circled the adjoining lake twice while watching the swans patrolling their territory, and then strolled along the marina and Chrissy Field path by San Francisco Bay until he reached the base of the Golden Gate Bridge. What was it Julius instructed him to think about? He recalled the instruction to think about Stuart and Rebecca’s gift, but before he could focus his mind he had already forgotten his assignment. Again and again he swept his mind clear of all thought and tried to focus on soothing and archetypal images—the wake of swans, the pirouetting of Pacific waves under the Golden Gate—but he continued to feel oddly distracted.

He walked through the Presidio, the former military base located on the overlook of the mouth of the bay, and down to Clement Street with its twenty blocks of wall-to-wall Asian restaurants. He chose a modest Vietnamese pho shop, and when his beef-and-tendon soup arrived, he sat quietly for a few minutes, inhaling the lemongrass vapor rising from the broth and staring at the glistening mountain of rice noodles. After only a few mouthfuls he requested the rest be packaged for his dog.

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