That afternoon Leon takes a shower, and says he is going to see his wife at the store. A few minutes later an aide sees him entering the store. After wandering around as if looking for someone, he finally leaves and returns to Ward D-16. There he asks the aide where the employees’ cafeteria is and, on being told, exclaims: “O, gee whiz! I went to the wrong place. I went to the store instead!” He then tells the aide that he was supposed to meet his wife there. He seems quite upset, and says he will see her tomorrow night instead.
September 1. Leon goes to the cafeteria for the second appointment, and arrives a few minutes late. One of the employees notices him looking about, and asks if he can be of help. Leon declines the offer and quickly takes his leave. When he returns to the ward he is visibly upset and angry. He tells an aide that he is very angry with his wife because she was in the back of the cafeteria having relations with a Negro.
In the next few days Leon’s behavior showed that he was under stress. Once he was observed doing something he had not done for a long time: flushing the toilet continuously for several minutes. His physician, he said, suggested this as a way of getting rid of undesirable electronic disturbances. He would remain in the sitting room alone, after supper, much of the time kneeling in front of the chair, praying, his gaze fixed on the ground card in the palm of his outstretched hand.
By now it seemed clear that Leon did believe in the existence of his wife. Had he kept his appointment with her only once, it could have been conjectured that he went merely to satisfy his curiosity and not because he believed he was to meet her. But he had kept the appointment twice on two successive days (we had deliberately set up two appointments in order to rule out the “curiosity hypothesis”); he had taken a shower immediately before his first appointment; and, as we shall shortly see, he had changed profoundly his belief about who his wife really was—and these facts were difficult to fit in with the “double-entry bookkeeping” hypothesis.
The “Double-Entry Bookkeeping” Hypothesis
Consider first a central concept introduced in Chapter I—the concept of primitive belief. We have proposed two kinds of primitive beliefs: beliefs that are supported by unanimous social consensus, and those for which there is a complete absence of social consensus. Since we have been dealing here with psychotic subjects, our main interest has necessarily been with the latter kind of primitive belief. What evidence is there to suggest that a deluded believer knows no one else believes as he does and that he actually believes in his delusions?
On many occasions we had asked Leon and Joseph: “Who else believes what you believe?” or some variant of this question. Their answers strongly indicated that both of them knew that no one else believed their assertions.
Leon, for example, said such things as: “Truth is truth, no matter if only one person speaks it”; “Now what do you think of all this stuff I’m talking? Do you think it’s true? … Look at the wonderful things it’s done for me”; “Well, I guess I’m the only one who believes that.” And, of course there was the obverse, his recurring refrain: “That’s your belief, sir.”
Once when Joseph said he had been present at a meeting between Americans and Englishmen during the War of Independence, I asked him whether he thought I believed him. At first he said it was possible, and then that he was quite sure I did not. On another occasion I asked him if he believed me when I asserted he was God. “Believe you?” Joseph replied. “I believe myself.” And he also frequently reiterated that he must keep his mouth shut, because he wouldn’t be believed. “You keep things to yourself, inside.”
It is because all three men knew they would not be believed that they resisted so strenuously my suggestion that they publicly declare their identity as God or Christ. Each of them was apparently realistically aware of the implications of such an open declaration and each would go to great lengths to avoid it. “My name is Clyde Benson; that’s my name straight.” “I go under the name of Joseph Cassel.” And Leon, long before he became Dung, called himself Rex, rather than Christ, and insisted that others call him Rex too. In this respect, Leon was more subtle and clever than the others, since most of those who called him Rex were unaware of what the name really meant. Yet the principle would seem to be the same for all three; apparently they knew that no one else believed what they believed.
It should be noted, nevertheless, that Leon and Joseph made some interesting exceptions. Leon sometimes asserted that his uncle shared his beliefs, and Joseph once said that “other Englishmen” believed what he believed. But since these exceptions refer to delusional referents, they were in fact lacking in any social support and therefore immune to controversy by real referents.
How is it possible for a human being to believe something which does not exist in reality, and which no one else believes? In addition to Bleuler’s statement that psychotics use a “double-entry bookkeeping” system, I have heard the opinion, on the part of people knowledgeable on the subject, that psychotics voice their delusions with tongue in cheek. On the other hand, Norman Cameron, in speaking of the paranoid pseudo-community, clearly takes an opposite position. Two considerations lead me to feel that Cameron’s position is the more valid. First, Leon’s behavior, from our observation, strongly suggests that he believed his wife really existed. Our data do not suggest that he only pretended she existed. Second, my own personal experience with LSD (lysergic acid diethylamide), a drug variously called hallucinogenic, psychotomimetic, or psychedelic,[1] makes the hallucinatory experience somewhat more understandable psychologically. At one point during the time I was under the influence of this drug, the phonograph was on. A woman soloist was singing a hauntingly beautiful melody. I saw the voice lift itself out of the record player; it looked ghostlike and ribbony. I saw it travel across the room toward me; then I felt it pushing its way into my right ear (not my left). And then I heard her singing the rest of the song inside my head. While this was happening, I knew it was a hallucination. But, still, I experienced it! Even though I knew that the reality of this experience would not be supported by social consensus, there was nothing anyone could say or do which would convince me that it was not happening to me. It does not matter whether my experience was produced by an external physical stimulus, nor does it matter whether there are others who agree with me or not. What matters is that I had the experience. I am therefore now inclined to believe that the hallucinations or delusions of psychosis are more than simply matters of pretense or of hyperimagination which a little persuasive logic will prove cannot be so.[2]
From all the preceding considerations it seems safe to assume that Leon was keeping a single, not a double, set of books. From his psychological standpoint he did indeed have a wife—a wife he cared for and who, in turn, cared for him. We knew now that he looked forward to hearing from her and to seeing her. Could we enlist her aid in bringing about changes for the better in Leon? The next chapter describes our efforts in this direction and the developments that then occurred. But first it is necessary to describe some further changes in Leon’s delusions and some totally unforeseen, yet enlightening developments which took place a week after he failed to keep his second appointment with Madame Yeti Woman.
[1]H. A. Abramson (Ed.); The Use of LSD in Psychotherapy (New York: Josiah Macy Foundation; 1960).
[2]There is, of course, at least one major difference between psychotic hallucinations and hallucinations produced under the influence of a drug. In the latter case, the person experiencing them can immediately explain the phenomenon (as I did) as an effect of the drug. In psychotic hallucinations the person experiencing them cannot, of course, attribute them to the influence of a drug. He must seek other explanations—for example, that they are due to “electronic interferences,” “cosmic reality,” etc.
CHAPTER XIII
MADAME GOD MAKES A FEW SUGGESTIONS
ON SEPTEMBER 9, a little over a week after Leon had received the letter from his wife asking him to meet her in the store, we had a private interview with him which
indicated that certain changes had already taken place in his delusional system.
—Well, what’s new, R.I.?—
“I know who God Almighty is in human shape. God Almighty is a woman in human shape, and she is my wife.”
—What’s her name?—
“The word ‘God’ is written on her forehead, capital G - O - D, so she’s Madame God, pertaining to the power in her, and she’s also my wife, Ruth, and to me she’s Madame R. I. Dung. God Almighty walks in the shape of a ‘She.’ I accept it as such.”
—Is she related to the Virgin Mary?—
“She happens to be the foster woman of Dr. Blessed Virgin Mary of Nazareth. It means she carried that particular creature as the Virgin Mary, but is no relation.”
—Oh, she was her mother?—
“No, no, no! She’s the foster woman, that’s all. I already mentioned my wife died the death to the placenta so she’s not a blood relative.”
—This is very interesting. When I first met you, you told me that you were married to Madame the Blessed Virgin Mary of Nazareth.—
“At that time, that’s the impression I had but I corrected myself when I found out she is married to a particular ideal, spiritual, light brother of mine.”
—Joseph Gabor?—
“He used to call himself that, but now he calls himself by his reincarnation name, Maximilian.”
—Then last November you married Ruth of Boaz, Madame Yeti Woman?—
“Yes, she has signed the letter with that name, Madame Yeti Woman.”
—And now do I understand that you have a new revelation about Madame Yeti Woman; namely, that she’s God?—
“Yes, sir, that’s what I believe.”
—In other words, she’s nobler and higher than you had believed originally?—
“Yes, sir. I mentioned that I was introduced to God twenty years ago by a reincarnation of Bart Maverick [TV cowboy star]. He said, ‘What would you do if you met God in human flesh?’ and I said I would love God. ‘Are you sure?’ he said. I said yes. As soon as he said those words a woman approached, elderly looking, with a slightly long nose, not hard to look at, and he said, ‘There’s God. Now love her!’ And because of duping I was interfered with and she told me, ‘I’ll see you in twenty years at Y.S.H.’ So it came true.”
—Did you see her?—
“Yes, several times. But because of interference it is a gradual thing.”
—How does she sign her name?—
“I prefer Madame Dr. R. I. Dung. She told me I’m a big pile of truthful-idealed dung, and I accept it.”
—Does she call herself a big pile of truthful-idealed dung?—
“She’s bigger than that: she supports the dung.”
—Did you see this woman?—
“Yes, on the street. I saw her pass through the ward.”
—How old did she look?—
“Fifty-some, or more. She’s a patient here—or was.”
—Could you introduce her to us?—
“I’m sure you’ve seen her face. I know that those who sincerely call on her see the face of a woman peer out of a cloud.”
—Could you describe her for us?—
“Grayish hair; in her hollowed-out body she has six of them so she has a height of better than seven feet, but the basic body that she showed herself in is about five feet five or six inches.”
—Can you tell us about that incident in the cafeteria?—
“Oh, the fact that she’s God, she can be loved through the penis of any man and at the same time she’d be loving me because I am the vine and the rock. I thought she committed adultery, whereas she didn’t. In my case, however, I can’t do that.”
At this point I asked Leon a question which—irrelevant as it seemed and unplanned as its timing was—turned out to be a decisive determinant of many changes which subsequently took place in him.
—Is your wife an hermaphrodite?—
“Morphodite—a person with bisexual organs?”
—Yes. Is this possible?—
Actually this wasn’t quite the question I had in mind. What I really wanted to know was whether Leon thought of himself as an hermaphrodite. But I feared this might be an extremely touchy question put so directly, so I asked it about his wife instead, hoping he would get around to answering it in terms of himself.
The reason the question occurred to me at all is that a few days earlier we had found some missing pages of Leon’s autobiographical account, Cause and Evolution, written at least a year before we met him. As I read them I noticed that Leon referred to himself as a “morphodite” several times.
One Saturday evening while bathing I got a safety razor and was determined to casterate myself, and at that time a living thermal static morphodyte it war(r)ed against my boy members—physically, mentally, spiritually. I could not casterate myself because I could not tell myself that sex was bad in itself. Pertaining to change of sex phase each month, was a strain on my nerves and I was also growing, and while in the boy sex phase I masturbated and the after effects of masturbation caused severe head and bone marrow aches plus growing pain aches. At times I thought God forgot about me …
I became more serious and determined that I was not meant for marriage. . . . I did not understand that inner physical struggle was the cause of my split personality.
I now repeat, manliness (and part of womanliness) is Jesus Christ …
… for example; those who say they are the president of the U. S. A. . . . I say sure you are the president of that body of yours— is it in a united state?
… the Sixth Commandment of God Says to us creatures, “thou shalt not commit adultry.” Adultry means illicit sex relations with one’s self …
… I am thrice a truthful simple servant of God, a boy eunuch for the kingdom of heaven …
It is going on two years … since I am all boy, never again to be a morphodyte-cosmic, for I would not exchange being all boy for all the treasure in the world piled in one big pile!
Following the question as I now phrased it to Leon —Is your wife an hermaphrodite?—a question which Leon was slow in answering, I went on to ask whether he recalled having said anything about being an hermaphrodite in Cause and Evolution.
Leon corrected me: the word was morphodite. “I don’t care for the word hermorphodite,” he went on, “because of the her which would split a testicle sack. Since I corrected it, the female part has gone away. However, I never used it as such; therefore, I am only male.”
—Whatever gave you the idea of being a morphodite?—
“Statements by persons when I was going to school and also incidents of approaching, and particular touches made.”
He recounted with horror an experience he had in Europe, when he was going on eight, with a boy of nine or ten. “I fornicated through the mouth—twice his mouth and twice mine. . . . That’s the way God permits a person to know the right use of the penis, if they accept the distinction between right and wrong.”
—It must have been a very disturbing experience for you.—
“I was very deeply startled and frightened.”
I then asked Leon to make a contribution to the theory of symbolism by explaining what he meant by the vine and the rock. He gave the explanation quite cheerfully.
“The vine is both the ureter and the penis. The rock is both breasts, temporary nectar stones—temporary because they are hard only during sexual intercourse—and testicles.”
I brought the subject back to the letters and Madame God.
“It is possible I may see her,” Leon said. “It comes to me that God may be a morphodite.”
At about this time an aide came in with a letter for Leon, saying that a woman had given it to him.
“Oh, was she a woman about five feet five, blue eyes, longish nose?”
—Yes.—
“Thank you,” said Leon, “that’s God.”
He opened the letter, read it silently, and then said: “She signed it Madame Yeti Woma
n.”
—What does it say?—
“My dear husband,” Leon read aloud, “I am happy to be able to say that I can send you at this time the enclosed one dollar. I expect you to use this to buy yourself refreshments and a ballpoint pen for your use today. Sincerely yours, Madame Yeti Woman.”
—Amazing! What’s that in it?—
“Money is a means to an end.”
Leon is the only person I have ever known who had absolutely no use for money. By comparative standards, he was rich: he had close to a thousand dollars in his account at the hospital’s business office; and as the account was never drawn on, it grew larger year by year as a result of his small veteran’s pension. But, according to Leon, it was not his—after all, it was held under his dupe name. “I have no use for money,” he once informed us, “I don’t want no part of it. I don’t want a thing that don’t belong to me. I don’t deserve it.” Nor would he accept his small weekly allowance from us, or money from any other source. As he explained it: “Where thy treasure is, there is thy heart.[1] If you are absorbed with engrams of thought that deal with money, you’re a stumbling block unto yourself in most instances—anxiety, worry comes with it after you obtain money, and your desire to have more money, and then your desire to have it protected—all these bring about something which is not helpful to the physical, mental, and spiritual. I was making a hundred twenty-five dollars a week, and then to have that lame-brain Eve squander it on pimps. No, I don’t approve of that. The particular person that misused money, why, she made me sick towards money.”
Leon was now gazing at the dollar bill that had been enclosed in his letter with an intensity of expression which puzzled me.
—What are you looking at?—
Suddenly I realized that he was really doing something I had not expected to witness. He was struggling to hold back his tears. With this much effort he would surely succeed. But he did not. Two tiny droplets formed in the corner of his eyes, and ever so slowly they grew slightly larger. There they remained for a moment or two until they squeezed themselves out as if of their own accord, despite Leon’s struggle. I watched their slow descent down his face.
The Three Christs of Ypsilanti Page 23
