Neither Fochs nor his creator assumes that poetry—by which I mean the fine observation and intriguing juxtapositions in language about the social and material world, in terms of either—is the site where the reader might find redemption, as it would be, say, were it a Theodore Sturgeon tale: nor is it a tale in which the force of its prose in analyzing the horror down to its perceptual and psychological atoms, could, in its course, recombine according to whatever grammar might be useful in solving the social or psychological problems.*
In Sturgeon’s classic horror novella Some of Your Blood, the incredibly nice and quintessentially “normal” farm boy has ended up in the army brig either through a mistake or something so horrible it is beyond words to describe—at least in the discourse of 1957 popular fiction, when it first appeared. With further study, however, the boy doesn’t seem quite so normal. He is an extreme loner, has shunned society all his adult life; and a string of unusual deaths of young women seem to have followed him since adolescence. What is his institutional (i.e., army) psychiatrist supposed to make of it . . . ?
Denouement of part I: this really nice kid who’s had a really rough life does like to drink human blood—especially girls’ and women’s. But, practically, he doesn’t need a lot, and he doesn’t need it frequently. Not only that, he has several times tried to kill himself because of it. Denouement of part II: observation, knowledge, and specifics, even when they take us beyond the acceptable, will conquer all. Along with his general poverty, social and material, the kid has escaped anything like ordinary sex education—believable enough in the American rural fifties. Why doesn’t he try asking his girlfriend for what he wants, and not as a bite on the neck or the wrist, but as a monthly favor consistent with female biology? At the end, this is all implied as discreetly as the evocations of rural life and social isolation are specific and luminous, so that, in effect, Sturgeon dares the reader not to buy it. Outside of a couple of mawkish pages of introduction, it’s an astonishing performance.
Yes, it’s awfully close to the mindless uplift we spoke of at the beginning. But isn’t the simple verbal performance with its specificity, observation, and challenge of social commonplaces preferable, once the text gets underway, to the extravagant self-parody all this becomes under the regimes of True Blood and Twilight in the last decade? (Both of which, given the context of what else was available, I rather liked.)
If Evenson’s work sits at the opposite pole from King’s and Poe’s, in his choice of story and structure, in his choice of verbal texture and narrative structure, it also sits at the opposite pole from Sturgeon’s and Stephen Crane’s. But the concert of all Evenson’s choices, narrative and rhetorical, makes the book a serious—and sobering—story. Like much good horror, it’s downright creepy; and, without a ghost in sight, it’s haunting.
Wynnewood, October 25, 2015
Acknowledgments
I want to thank those who have shared their experiences with me in the course of writing this book—they have been invaluable in helping me understand the potential for abuse in religious hierarchies. Nevertheless, this is a work of fiction. It approaches a problem common in a wide range of religions. Any specific resemblance to actual persons or to any actual events is incidental.
Go home and observe these conditions. First, never tell anybody that you are a man without a soul. Second, when you reach home, seize the child you love most, pierce one of the veins in his neck, drink up all his blood until his body is completely dry, cook the body, eat the flesh.
Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o, Devil on the Cross
Memorandum, Zion Foundation Institute of Psychoanalysis
From: Alexander Feshtig
To: Curtis Ballard Kennedy, Director
Director Kennedy:
I was somewhat surprised to receive your memorandum and even more surprised by your request. That you choose to contact me in such fashion rather than simply addressing me face to face suggests that you also see the request as problematic and are ashamed to make it. What you ask is a great deal more than an “imposition.” It will necessitate in effect my compromising my commitments both at clinic and home so as to listen to the tapes again, put my notes in order, revise my initial draft, and draw what (necessarily fragmentary) conclusions I can manage. I am disinclined to do it.
When I initially accepted this position, I was assured by your predecessor that our clinic would be allowed to operate independently of the sponsoring religion, that I was to be guaranteed the same privacy and confidentiality in regard to doctor/patient relations which would be afforded me in private practice. Your memorandum, however, suggests that this is not now, and perhaps never has been, the case. We cannot be expected to operate effectively with the Church breathing down our necks; our clients must be guaranteed full confidentiality, and must have a safe environment in which to progress. In addition, there are legal issues at stake. If “the Church needs to know” the details of this case (which I doubt), I suggest that it contact Provost Fochs himself, seeking to gain his permission before approaching me.
I understand the difficulty of your position, but nothing will be gained from operating through secrecy and stealth. No matter how important or powerful or inspired the apostolic elder is who prodded you to make this request, it is a request that should not have been made. You have convinced yourself that if you do this single favor for him—if you violate your ethics on this one occasion—that that will be the end of it. But once he sees you are willing to operate in clandestine fashion, he will call upon you often. Patients will be directed toward the clinic specifically so that an elder of the Church will have ready access to their files.
Though apostolic elders are men of God, that does not make all they do (or that you do on their behalf) godly. They are human: they can, and will, make mistakes. Hell is crammed full of godly men.
Is this an official request of the institution or the private “suggestion” of one apostle of the Church? If it is an official request, I must insist it pass through official, public channels in the proper way. If it is an unofficial “suggestion,” it must be ignored.
In short, I will not cooperate under such terms. I will not pass along to you my Fochs papers.
You have made a mistake in getting caught up in this. I can only wish you luck in extricating yourself as gracefully as possible.
Sincerely,
Feshtig
C. Ballard Kennedy, Director
Zion Foundation Institute of Psychoanalysis
Dear Elder Blanchard,
I was pleased to have your note, pleased as well to learn you hold my work in high regard. You are too kind. You are among the first to comment on the strengths of my article on Christian-based analysis—i.e. “Christianalysis”—though I hope you will not be the last. My present work continues along similar lines, postulating a psychoanalytic method which operates according to the inspired truths which our sacred books and our church leaders have revealed to us rather than according to the misunderstandings of worldly psychoanalysis and psychology. I believe it to be the sacred mission of all members of the Church to work actively to infuse their disciplines with the truth of the gospel, to shed the pure light of Christ over the shadowy professions of man.
In response to your query, I am sorry to say I know very little about the Fochs case. Dr. Alexander Feshtig has handled the case from beginning to end. Though it is clear that he is quite interested in the case, he has remained, as often is his wont, uncommunicative. He has declined to discuss the case or to make his tapes and notes available.
Since the request for information comes from an apostolic elder of the Church, I am willing to do as you ask. I think I will be able to gain access to at least some of Feshtig’s notes and assorted papers on Fochs, though I would ask that you keep that between you and me. I would not normally do this: I have strict standards. But this is a special case. I know my duty to my profession but I know even better my duty as a member of the Church. I am certain you will handle the information I p
ass along in an inspired, cautious fashion.
By the way, I have a brother-in-law, a worthy and obedient member of the Church and a true scholar of the holy and revealed word of God, who has been adjunct faculty at our Church’s university for a number of years. He has nearly been offered a full-time position several years running, but there are certain unchristian members of his department who refuse to recognize his merits, arguing that his work is not sufficiently rigorous. Yet, with his broad understanding of the inspired principles of the gospel, he is precisely the sort of teacher that would best serve the university! Is it too much of an imposition to ask if you have any advice as to how I might aid him to obtain the permanent position he deserves?
Sincerely,
Ballard Kennedy
C. Ballard Kennedy, Director
Zion Foundation Institute of Psychoanalysis
Dear Elder Blanchard,
Enclosed, as much as I could conveniently gather of Feshtig’s anamnesis of Provost Fochs. My brother-in-law thanks you, and writes to say that he finds his new situation quite satisfying. I thank you as well for going to the trouble. You shouldn’t have.
As far as I can determine, I have had access to a partial, preliminary case study. Anything further remains locked either in Feshtig’s private cabinet, his house, or perhaps his briefcase. The work is characteristic Feshtig, far too secular in its conclusions.
I have not had access to his session tapes and have only managed to come by this portion of his work because Feshtig gave it to the secretary to type and she respects my authority. Feshtig is rather scrupulous about his current papers and tapes. I cannot gain access to them without arousing his suspicions.
I hope these papers will meet your needs. I am sorry I cannot give you more recent information.
Sincerely,
Ballard Kennedy
PART ONE
FIRST ANAMNESIS
Background
When I first met him, Eldon Fochs was a thirty-eight-year-old accountant as well as lay provost for the largely conservative religious sect the Corporation of the Blood of the Lamb (“Bloodites”). He was clean shaven, pale in complexion, respectably dressed in a fashion typical of the Church’s leadership, wearing a dark, sturdy suit, a white shirt, and a conservative tie. In all our interviews, he never departed from this fashion of dress. He was a large, soft-spoken man, slightly overconscious of his body but nevertheless possessed of a relaxed demeanor. He had sought treatment at the request of his spouse, who was concerned by recent changes in his sleep behavior, which included “talking in his sleep in somebody else’s voice,” sleepwalking, and brief violent behavior toward his wife upon being awakened (behavior he had no memory of). Though Fochs believed his wife was overreacting, he chose to come to me nonetheless for two reasons: first to pacify her and second because during the past year he had had “disturbing dreams and thoughts” which he “wanted to be free of.”
In our first interview, Fochs stated a preference for being called “Brother Fochs” or “Provost Fochs” or simply “Fochs” rather than being called by his first name, Eldon. He was initially reluctant to discuss his family history. The disturbing dreams and thoughts, he felt, had “nothing to do with the past” since they had only originated a year ago. When I persisted, however, I discovered that he was the eldest of two children, the youngest having died at birth. He “was brought up in the faith,” growing up in a middle class Bloodite family in a predominantly Bloodite neighborhood. His earliest memories included his youngest brother’s funeral, presided over by his father, a provost for the Church. He also remembered his mother helping him to learn to read out of the official Bloodite children’s magazine, Come Unto Me, at age five, and the frequent absence of his father in his youth due to his church-related responsibilities.
Fochs remembered his mother as proper, loving, and industrious. She did not work outside of the home. She was very meek and often would look to her husband for advice even in simple household matters. The family had only one car, which Fochs’s father took every day to work. His mother spent most of her time at home, except Wednesday afternoons when a neighbor would drive her to the grocery store. Nevertheless, the mother gave her son no sign of being discontent. Even when she lost her youngest child, leaving Fochs an only child, she told Fochs that it had been God’s will and carried quietly on with her life.
He remembered his father as dignified, friendly, kind. His father was, Fochs indicated, most often absent in the evenings. The family understood the reasons for this and respected him for it, drawing strength from his “involvement with God.” According to Fochs, the time his father did spend with the family was “quality time.” His father “governed the household with kindness—sometimes sternly, but never with anger,” administering punishment swiftly and without heat. Fochs sometimes thought of his father as being distant and withdrawn, but his mother explained this was because of the weight of his position in the Church. Both his father and mother are still alive and still happily married.
Family life as a whole was generally happy, and Fochs had had every advantage. He did not mind being an only child. He claimed he had always been introspective and preferred to have the majority of his time to himself.
The family began each day at 5:30 a.m. with family prayer and Bible study, directed by the father. Each day was ended with prayer and religious study as well, directed by the father unless he was absent, in which case Fochs, as the only other male (even though a child), took charge.
As a child, Fochs had had a frequently recurring dream. In the dream was a man whose head was all cut and bloody, who was asking him to do something—upon awakening, he could never remember what. In the dream he was never frightened, but upon awakening he was frightened. He claimed he had had this dream many times as a child.
When he was eleven, Fochs contracted pneumonia and grew very ill. His mother asked his father to give Fochs a blessing of healing, a practice typical in the Bloodite faith, but the father refused, saying the boy would heal on his own and that one shouldn’t squander God’s healing. Fochs did indeed recover, though he is now frequently subject to respiratory illness, perhaps as a result of the pneumonia. He claims not to blame his father for this, and says that his being alive today is proof that his father did not need to give the blessing.
As a teenager, Fochs had what he calls his “gray period.” On a personal and private level, he stopped praying, stopped reading the Scriptures, and began to participate in activities that he describes now as “immoral,” but whose exact nature he has been reluctant to specify. On a public level, however, he continued to attend church and to partake of Communion without confessing his sins. He did so because he didn’t want others to suspect his shortcomings. Eventually the tension between what he was on Sunday and what he did during the week became too great. With some difficulty he changed his behavior and recommitted himself to the Church.
When Fochs was twenty-four, during his last year of college, he met the woman he would marry. One week later they became engaged, and six weeks after that he married her. He described his wife as having all the good qualities that a woman should have. Their first daughter was born ten months after their marriage, and since then they have had two sons (twins) and a daughter. Fochs says he is content with married life, and that although there are occasionally minor disagreements between himself and his wife, he is happy.
Pacifying His Wife
Fochs had come to visit me partly at his wife’s request. He had recently begun to talk in his sleep, sometimes very loudly, often in a voice that was not his own. In a short note that Fochs handed to me in our first meeting, his wife described the voice as “sharp, biting, and full of malice,” much different from Fochs’s soft-spoken near-slur. She had heard his mouth speak like this three times. It spoke, she said, “using profane and pornographic language (language which my husband never uses while awake)” and seemed intent on recounting some sort of abusive, violent narrative, though Fochs’s wife could not piece
together more. The first time, she shook him and he stopped speaking. The second time, he began to wander through the house, apparently still asleep. She caught him as he was putting his coat on, preparing to go out the door. When she touched him and spoke to him, he (though still apparently asleep) allowed her to lead him back to bed. The third time, she had started to shake him but he continued speaking and then suddenly struck out at her. Fochs claimed he was asleep at the time, that he didn’t know he was hitting anybody, that his body had struck her but that he had been “too deep inside myself to be responsible for the action.”
Fochs has never been awake during his sleepwalking episodes. He seemed to want to minimize the importance of these and his other sleep disturbances.
Fochs’s sleepwalking alone might be seen as a simple sleep disorder, but because of its combination with Fochs’s talking in his sleep in a different voice and in different words than he would normally use, it deserves to be taken seriously as an indication of larger dissociative disturbance.
Paper
Fesh: I would like to try something a little different. Do you mind following along on something new?
Father of Lies Page 2
