The Schopenhauer Cure(82)
“I’m sorry, Julius,” said Pam, “and sorry about your wife—I never knew that—and of course about…about those…relationships.”
“I don’t know what to say to you, Julius,” said Bonnie. “This feels really awkward.”
“Say more about the awkwardness, Bonnie,” said Julius, feeling burdened by the chore of being his own therapist in the group.
“Well, this is brand new. This is the first time you’ve ever laid yourself out like this in the group.”
“Go on. Feelings?”
“I feel very tense. I think it’s because this is so ambiguous. If one of us,” she waved her arm around, “brings something painful to the group, we know what we should do—I mean we get right to work even though we may not know exactly how to do it. But with you, I don’t know…”
“Right, what’s not clear is why you’re telling us,” said Tony, leaning forward, eyes squinting under his bushy eyebrows. “Let me ask something I learned from you. It came up last week in fact. Why now? Is it because you made a bargain with Philip? Most folks here say no about that—that the bargain makes no sense. Or do you want help with feelings remaining from that incident? I mean, your reasons for sharing aren’t clear. If you want my personal reactions, I got no problem with what you did. I’ll tell you straight out, I feel the same way I felt about Stuart and Gill and Rebecca—I personally don’t see the big deal about what you did. I could see myself doing that. You’re lonely, sexed up, some broads ask to comfort you, you let them, and everybody has a good time. They probably got off on it too. I mean, we’re talking about ladies as though they only get used or exploited. I get riled, really riled, by this picture of men begging for some scrap of sex which women, sitting on their thrones, may or may not decide to toss out as a favor. As though they don’t get off too.”
Tony turned his head at the sound of Pam slapping her head as she covered her face with her hands and noted that Rebecca, too, had her hands to her head. “Okay, okay, maybe I’ll toss those last cards and just stick with the cards saying, Why now?”
“Good question, Tony. I appreciate your getting me started. A few minutes ago I was wishing I had a cotherapist here to help me, and then you come along and do the job. You’re good at this. Therapy could have been a good career for you. Let’s see. Why now? I’ve asked that question so many times, and yet this may be the first time I’ve had it come my way. First, I think you’re all right-on when you say it’s not because of my bargain with Philip. Yet I can’t dismiss that entirely because there is something to his point about the I-thou relationship. To quote Philip, the idea is ‘not without merit.’” Julius smiled at Philip but received no smile in return.
Julius continued, “What I mean is, there is some problem with the lack of reciprocity in the authentic therapy relationship—it’s a knotty question. So addressing that problem is part of my reason for accepting Philip’s challenge.”
Julius wanted a response. He felt he had been speaking too long. He turned to Philip. “How do you feel about what I’ve said so far?”
Philip jerked his head around, startled at Julius’s question. After a moment’s deliberation he said, “It seems generally agreed here that I’m one of those who have chosen to reveal a great deal. That’s inaccurate. Someone in the group revealed something about their experience with me, and I revealed what I did only in the service of historical accuracy.”
“Want to tell me what’s that got to do with anything?” asked Tony.
“Exactly,” said Stuart. “Talk about accuracy, Philip! First, for the record, I’m not one who’s thought you’ve revealed yourself. But, mainly I want to say your answer is nowhere near the mark. It has zero to do with Julius’s question about your feelings.”
Philip seemed to take no offense. “Right. Okay, back to Julius’s question—I think I was confounded by his question because I had no feelings. There was nothing in what he said to warrant an emotional response.”
“That at least is relevant,” said Stuart. “Your earlier response came out of left field.”
“I am so tired of your pseudodementia game here!” Pam, slapping her thigh in exasperation, spit out her words to Philip. “And I’m pissed at your refusing to give me a name! This referring to me as ‘someone in the group’ is insulting and imbecilic.”
“By pseudodementia you imply I feign ignorance?” said Philip, avoiding Pam’s glare.
“Glory be,” said Bonnie, raising her arms, “A first. The two of you are acknowledging one another, actually speaking.”
Pam ignored Bonnie’s remark and continued speaking to Philip. “Pseudodementia is a compliment compared to its alternative. You say you can find nothing in Julius’s remark warranting a response. How can anyone have no responses to Julius?” Pam’s eyes blazed.
“For example?” asked Philip. “You obviously have something in mind for me to feel.”
“Let’s try gratitude for taking you and your thoughtless and insensitive question seriously. Let’s try respect for keeping his I-thou promise to you. Or how about sorrow for what he went through in the past. Or fascination or even identification with his unruly sexual feelings. Or admiration for his willingness to work with you, with all of us, despite his cancer. And that’s just for starters.” Pam raised her voice: “How could you not have feelings?” Pam looked away from Philip, breaking off their contact.