Glittering Images, page 33
‘Yes.’ I shuddered at the memory but managed to add, ‘His eyes are light brown but he can make them glow until they seem amber. They were amber then.’
‘And was there a point in the conversation when he repeated a phrase several times, a phrase such as “listen to me”? Or was there a point when he repeated your name perhaps three times in one sentence to secure your attention?’
I said slowly, ‘Yes, there was. At one stage I said, “I refuse to listen to this,” but he said, “You will – you will, Charles, you will. Sit down, Charles – sit down and listen to me – listen to me, Charles – ”’
‘Ah yes,’ said Darrow nonchalantly as if we were discussing behaviour which was commonplace. ‘I thought so. He was using a hypnotic technique to heighten the power of his charism – a technique which can occasionally be useful but which is always fraught with danger. I believe I now understand what happened. A charism which manifests itself in oratory can operate like a wireless, and Jardine had not only switched on this wireless but turned up the volume knob as high as it would go. The effect would be unusually devastating because you were drunk and in a severely weakened state, but Charles, now that you’re stone-cold sober and in a far stronger frame of mind you should have no trouble turning down the volume knob and finally switching the wireless off.’
I was greatly intrigued but all I could say was, ‘I can’t quite find the volume knob.’
‘It’s his assertion that you imagined the resemblances. All you have to do is explode it.’
‘But how?’
‘Make a list of the apparent resemblances and we’ll see whether or not they’re valid.’
I said cautiously but without difficulty, ‘The wife who got so depressed that she had to go back to her parents for a while – that was what Jane threatened to do and what Carrie Jardine actually did. The wife who was dutiful about sex – although this didn’t stop the marriage from running into problems. The Jardines’ period of childlessness followed by the birth of their dead baby, a period which corresponds to my years of contraception followed by the loss of the unborn child. Jardine’s aversion to the celibate life, an aversion he confessed to Loretta, which corresponds to my own feelings about celibacy.’
‘Admirably put. There you have several genuine resemblances between you and Jardine. Can you see any more?’
I said with growing confidence, ‘Jardine comes from a lower social class than I do, but his long climb to the top of the social tree has resulted in him winding up with two personalities – a fact which suggests that like me he has trouble preserving a unified identity. He himself admitted to me that Alex is the glittering image and Adam is the man beyond, the man he likes to keep secret because Adam’s made so many mistakes. Like me he normally doesn’t talk about his past – and in particular he doesn’t talk about –’
‘Yes? Go on, Charles –’
‘His father,’ I said. ‘His father.’
‘And there you have the most dramatic resemblance of all.’
My confidence was now complete. ‘His father problem was on the surface very different from mine,’ I said, ‘but in essence it was the same. Jardine had felt unloved and rejected by his father until the old man was near death.’ I paused as I remembered my nocturnal talk with Jardine in his library. ‘It was strange how Jardine sensed I had problems with my father,’ I said. ‘I merely pursued my usual policy of reticence but unlike everyone else Jardine had the personal experience to know what that reticence meant.’
‘In other words he saw himself in you – the identification process was working in reverse.’
‘Yes, I’m sure now that this was why he didn’t throw me out of the palace when he discovered I was Lang’s spy – I intrigued him so much that he couldn’t resist the urge to let mc stay on so that he could get to know me better and later, after he had confided in me about his father, I became convinced that he was the only man I knew who had the experience to look beyond my glittering image and sympathize with the man I really was. That was why his rejection at the end was so terrible to me.’
‘In other words,’ said Darrow, ‘the psychological recognition was mutual and real. The resemblances between you were not only numerous but striking. So much for Jardine’s accusation that you were projecting a fantasy.’
The relief was so overwhelming that it was some time before I could say, ‘How could I have believed him?’
‘You were hypnotized into believing you were mad and then you were too terrified to confront the memory to realize his thesis was false.’ There was a toughness in Darrow’s voice but he eradicated it. Without expression he added, ‘Clearly the charism was abused.’
Having, finally faced my memory of the scene I was able to voice the most sinister possibility of all. ‘Could he have deliberately sent me over the edge in order to protect himself?’
‘He could,’ said Darrow, ‘but on the other hand if he saw himself in you it seems unlikely that he would have been deliberately destructive. The most likely explanation is that in the distress caused by his involvement with you he lost control over the charism.’
‘But surely his use of hypnosis can only be sinister?’
‘Not necessarily. He may well have resorted to hypnosis with the best of intentions – to calm you down. However where he made his big mistake was to assume that if he confronted you with certain realities you’d be able to pull yourself together. From a counselling point of view, as I told you earlier, this was quite the wrong approach, and the error was compounded by his lurid presentation of what he believed those realities to be, but Charles, let me stress that despite the abysmal mess he made of the scene there’s still no proof that he was engaged in covering up an affair with Lyle. All the disaster proves is that even an experienced bishop should never attempt to counsel someone when all his better instincts caution him against it.’
There was a silence while I digested this truth but finally I said, ‘At least I can now see the scene in its true colours. I can’t tell you how much better I feel.’
‘I’m very glad, but don’t start relaxing too soon because we’re not quite home yet. We’ve established that you should on no account think you were mad just because you identified yourself with Jardine. But what happened when you pursued this identification to its limits? Can you take another look at that incident with Loretta?’
‘I suppose this is where I convict myself of being emotionally disturbed even if I wasn’t certifiably insane. I wanted him to be guilty of adultery. When I found he hadn’t penetrated her I felt cheated. And in the end I wanted him to be sleeping with Lyle – I wanted it even though the thought was unendurable.’
‘And why did you wish these sins upon him?’
‘I felt that if he could be guilty and still be a brilliantly successful churchman, then I could too. I thought … I was so afraid …’
‘Yes? You’re almost there, Charles. One last hurdle –’
‘I was so afraid my vocation was breaking down and I couldn’t bear to think of it. All I want is to serve God in the Church but everything seemed to be falling apart – my celibacy, my career, my whole life – and in those circumstances Jardine became – Jardine symbolized –’
‘Symbolized –’
‘– he was a symbol of hope – and in the end he was hope personified, my only hope, my last hope … I thought: if only he could be guilty, I’ll be all right – if he can go on, I can go on … And that was why – that was why –’
‘When he rejected your identification with him, he wasn’t just rejecting you as a father, was he?’
‘No, he was destroying my last hope of serving God in the Church, damning me to the hell of broken vows – and oh God, I couldn’t bear it, Father, I couldn’t bear it, I couldn’t bear it, I couldn’t bear it …’
VI
‘It was very terrible for you,’ said Darrow, pulling his chair around the table so that he could sit beside me. ‘But you can see now, can’t you, how you used this valid identification with Jardine to drum up defences which would keep your fears about your vocation at bay. You were afraid not of losing your faith in God, which I suppose is the commonest fear of clergymen with such beleaguered psyches, but of losing your ability to serve him in the Church.’
I was able to say, ‘I believe now that eventually I’ll be able to go on in obedience to those vows I made at my ordination, but the past months have been such a nightmare of fear and doubt –’
‘Of course they have. And of course you can now understand how that nightmare burgeoned in your mind until it reached intolerable proportions. It began not merely because your father had convinced you that you were unfit and unworthy, a man who was only acting the part of a clergyman, but because you felt your father’s scepticism was to a frightening degree becoming justified. You were worried about your increasing need for alcohol, and you were finding yourself in increasing difficulties with women – but why was this happening? Not, contrary to what your father might think, because of some genetic curse. It was happening because you were under increasing psychological strain. The glittering image was becoming more and more of a burden – no wonder you wanted to drink to escape from him! – and you had this crucial problem, which you couldn’t master, about your inability to face remarriage. The tension caused by this problem remorselessly drove you into errors – errors which only made you feel more unfit, more unworthy – and the inevitable result was that you became imprisoned in a downward spiral of despair. In the circumstances the wonder is not that you became emotionally disturbed but that you didn’t do so much earlier, and in my opinion you must be absolutely dedicated to serving God; a lesser call would have disintegrated long ago.’
When I was calmer I said, ‘It was almost as if I knew I couldn’t break down until I’d found someone who could be guaranteed to glue me together again.’
‘One of the saddest aspects of your story is undoubtedly that you felt unable to confide in anyone before you met me, but before either of us makes the mistake of becoming too self-satisfied with the results of our meeting let’s remember that although your troubles have been clarified they haven’t yet been resolved. You have some hard work to do now on the home front, but we can discuss that later. At present there are more immediate matters to consider.’
‘My formal confession?’
‘Yes, it can be brief, since we’ve already discussed your errors in such depth, but you must still approach the task with care; I’m going to make some suggestions about prayer and meditation. Then once your confession’s been made we can discuss what you’re going to do on your return to the world. I think it’s extremely important for you, both emotionally and spiritually, that we draw up a very meticulous battle-plan.’
VII
I made my formal confession before God that evening, and Father Darrow, granting me absolution, assigned me a short penance which I performed in the chapel before I went to bed. I had expected a severe penance, possibly even a protracted one, but Darrow said that the severe, protracted ordeal of my informal confession to him had formed a penance which now only required completion with prayer.
The next morning, for the first time since my arrival, I was able to participate in the mass.
All the Fordite services were conducted in the vernacular, and although the form of worship represented the apex of the High Church wing of the Church of England, the language stressed that sharp division from Rome which formed the hallmark of the Fordite monks. The chapel was ornate, but the lack of emphasis on the Virgin set it apart from any church under the Pope’s jurisdiction. I could not see the entire chapel because visitors were allowed only in a section of the transept, but the stained glass which was visible to me stressed the life of Christ and the single work of sculpture consisted of a crucifix.
I received the sacrament. I had been so buoyed up by my anticipation that it was a shock when after the first seconds of overwhelming comfort I experienced the panic of despair. I started fearing I might fall into error the moment I left my secure retreat; I began to worry that I would still be unable to face remarriage and fatherhood; I tormented myself with the dread that my feelings for Lyle were entirely illusory, that the liberating theory of my paternity was mistaken and that I was indeed utterly unfit to serve God as a clergyman.
My new hope shattered. My frail self-confidence crumbled. After the service I stumbled back to my room, pulled the blind and lay face downwards on the bed with the cross pressed against my chest as I struggled to repel the demon despair. The demon and I wrestled for some time. He never entirely vanquished me but he made exhausting attacks. I was immobilized. I needed all my strength to bar his path to my soul.
Darrow found me after his chapter meeting. He walked in, took one look at my prostrate form, pulled up the blind and said: ‘On your feet, Charles. Kick the demon in the arse and let’s get down to work.’
The mood represented by the symbol of the demon immediately dissolved into the framework of my mind. I slunk to the table.
‘I thought I’d be all right now,’ I said with shame. ‘I thought I’d be strong as an ox and brave as a lion and ready to stride out of your front door singing “Onward Christian Soldiers”.’
Darrow laughed. ‘Some frightened citizen of Grantchester would undoubtedly have summoned an ambulance! No, Charles, I’d be most perturbed if at the present stage of your profound ordeal you were to stride out of here singing a militant hymn.’ And he added as we both sat down at the table: ‘In a way I’m glad you’ve had this setback because now you’ll have no trouble believing me when I say I think you should stay here a few days longer. Spiritually you’re still extremely weak, and since taking the sacrament isn’t by itself going to restore you miraculously to full strength, I’m going to set you some spiritual exercises.’
I tried not to look alarmed. Even in the most ardent days of my training for the priesthood I had never been keen on work which offered me no chance to excel with my academic gifts.
‘You probably won’t need to remain here longer than a week,’ said Darrow, ‘but for the next twenty-eight days I want you to rise at six in the morning and spend one hour in reading, prayer and meditation as I shall direct. You may have a cup of tea or coffee to wake you up but no food during this hour, please, and no cigarettes.’
My heart sank. I was never at my best early in the morning and before approaching an hour of spiritual exercises I felt I needed a three-course dinner, several cigarettes and a stiff whisky. Laymen think clergymen have an inexhaustible ability to pray and meditate, but in fact unless one is a monk trained to spend a large portion of each day in worship few clergymen have either the time or the energy for a full hour of solitary spiritual hard labour. Every morning I said my prayers and read the office, but these activities resembled a short spiritual sprint; what I was now being required to do was to run a spiritual mile, and I knew very well that I was out of training.
However my resolve to rebuild my life to give meaning to Jane’s death compelled me to say to Darrow, ‘I want more than anything to get fit. I’ll do whatever you say.’
‘Let me explain what I’m aiming for: I want to help you restore the balance to your spiritual life which your private problems have inevitably distorted. In your pursuit of a success which would impress your father you’ve probably tended to channel too much energy into your work as a scholar; I’m not saying you haven’t been conscientious in your public worship and private prayer, but have you been more than merely conscientious? I feel you should now devote more time to cultivating your inner life so that you can achieve more than a mere outward semblance of your vocation.’
‘I’m beginning to see why you’ve been leading me through a course of reading on mysticism.’
‘There were two reasons for that. The first was that you seemed to be too much preoccupied with the transcendence of God – a common failing among admirers of Karl Barth, I fear – and I thought you needed to be reminded of the mystics’ doctrine of synteresis, the idea that a divine spark exists in every human being –’
‘– and that God’s immanent as well as transcendent.’
‘Exactly. Mysticism provides a middle way between a Liberal protestantism stressing the immanence of God and Barth’s crisis theology stressing the transcendence.’
‘And your second reason for directing me to the mystics?’
‘I wanted to see how you reacted to a stress on the relationship between man and God which can exist beyond the rituals of formal worship, and during our subsequent discussions I began to suspect you weren’t using your spiritual gifts, such as they are, to their full capacity – with the result that your misguided belief in your unworthiness had been reinforced. And that’s another reason why you now need to spend time each day in training and rehabilitation; you need the boost to your self-esteem that the achievement of a balanced spiritual life will provide.’
I was unable to stop myself saying: ‘I feel so depressed that I’m in such a weakened state.’
‘Then it’s all the more important that we should build up your spiritual strength. Now, Charles, you clearly need some hard physical work if you’re to avoid spending the morning moping on your bed – come into the garden with me and let’s see if we can discover some small useful tree which is crying out to be cut down …’
VIII
There was no tree crying out to be cut down but there was a large patch of ground which was asking to be dug up. I dug and I dug and I dug. After a while I felt better, and later as I took a shower I remembered Lady Starmouth saying with a smile, ‘I adore Muscular Christianity!’ Her remark seemed a terrible irony now that I could acknowledge what a debilitated Christian I had become but when I looked in the glass and saw not my glittering image but my true self I thought that one day, a long way off in a future almost impossible to imagine, an approving reference to Muscular Christianity might not seem so misplaced.
