The Divide

Amelie studied her fingernails.

“About Roch,” she said. “I don’t know whether we can do something like that to him. I mean, and get away with it.” She turned her large, shiny eyes on Susan. “I don’t know if he’ll let us.”

14

From the notebooks of Maxim Kyriakides:

Finally we are all together in this house, presumably for the duration of the winter. (The snow continues to deepen; we are all confined by it—though of course it isn’t the snow that keeps us together.) In our isolation, certain things have become clear.

I begin to realize that there is, underlying all else, the question of Benjamin. The question of his sudden new presence in John’s life. The question of where Benjamin comes from, and perhaps what he will become.

From the taped transcripts of their meetings: Maxim Kyriakides and John Shaw, January 12:

Kyriakides: Hello, John. Please, sit down. [The sound of a chair being pulled up.] This is the room I’ve set aside for my work. I hope we’ll be meeting here often. [A long pause.] You’re staring at me. … Is something wrong?

John: [His voice firm but somewhat subdued.] I’m wondering what you want from me.

Kyriakides: Well, that’s a complicated question. I won’t attempt to lie to you. Let’s say—for the moment, I’m your doctor.

John: You won’t lie, but you will condescend to me.

Kyriakides: Is that what I’m doing?

John: I know you, Max. It’s been years, obviously. But I haven’t forgotten.

Kyriakides: You understand, this is difficult for me, too. I know you. I know what you’re capable of. I know what you could do as a child. … I can guess what you’re capable of now. So there’s an element of caution.

John: Of fear.

Kyriakides: If you like. Does that make you happy?

John: Is this psychoanalysis?

Kyriakides: I suppose, on one level, it is. I can be a better judge of what’s happening if we’re able to talk to one another.

John: You can judge my deterioration, you mean.

Kyriakides: If it happens that way. I hope to be able to prevent it. [A pause.] We’re being honest, here.

John: All those years …

Kyriakides: You resented me.

John: No, Max. I hated you.

John: Tell me about the treatment.

Kyriakides: Treatment can’t begin until we have more information. I have an arrangement with Dr. Collingwood—he’s a neurologist. He’ll be examining you, and he has co

John: In other words, you don’t have any treatment in mind.

Kyriakides: What I mean is that I won’t discuss treatment until we know more. I don’t want you second-guessing me.

John: Even if my guesses are better than yours.

Kyriakides: It isn’t a question of pride. I admit that I need a certain amount of elbow-room—emotional, intellectual.

John: You did animal studies.

Kyriakides: Yes …

John: The animals experienced loss of cortical tissue.

Kyriakides: They did.

John: Did they die? [Pause.] Max? Did the animals die?

Kyriakides: Some of them—yes.

Kyriakides: I think we have to begin by talking about Benjamin.

John: I won’t submit to amateur psychoanalysis—I thought I’d made that clear. The problem is physiological.

Kyriakides: The symptoms may not be. This is relevant, John. You do accept the implication that Benjamin—his manifestation over the last year or two—is a symptom?

John: Of something. Are you asking me to diagnose myself?

Kyriakides: I’m trying to justify my interest.

John: You’re suggesting Benjamin began to manifest as a result of cortical disfunction. Maybe so, maybe not. Sometimes I think I just … lost interest. When I invented him, you know, it was a willful act—I wanted someone to run all the routine chores, to gratify all the expectations I couldn’t fulfill. He was a kind of autopilot. Do you understand? But I think that’s the danger. I created an autonomous cortical subroutine and allowed it access to my voluntary motor activity. That must have created profound neural cha

Kyriakides: Why was it difficult to be John Shaw?

John: Maybe I was sick. Maybe I was just … tired.

Kyriakides: But it was a conscious decision.

John: To resurrect Benjamin? No—it was not.

Kyriakides: Therefore we have to examine it.

John: This is still parlor Freudianism, Max. Benjamin as the unconscious mind of John Shaw. The Three Faces of Eve. But it isn’t like that. You should know better. Freud was a bourgeois apologist, wasn’t he?

Kyriakides: I’m not a Marxist anymore, John.

John: How they fade—the passions of our youth.

Kyriakides: You’re trying to nettle me. Is that why you keep calling me “Max”?

John: That’s what they used to call you, isn’t it? Your colleagues in the Network?

Kyriakides: You know about that?

John: I overheard things—even as a child. I’m sorry if it bothers you, calling you Max. I would feel a little odd about using formal titles, I’m afraid.

Kyriakides: Your conscious mind is exceptional, John. I haven’t made the mistake of assuming your unconscious mind is any less prodigious. Nor should you.

John: Superman and superego.

Kyriakides: Obviously I can’t force you to talk about Benjamin. But the implication is that you find the topic disturbing.

John: I’m about to be evicted from my body, Max. Or lose my mind. Of course it’s disturbing.

Kyriakides: Yes, but there may be another way to think about it. I wonder if Benjamin isn’t a kind of survival instinct? Unconscious—I’m forced to use the word. But profound. Maybe you’ve resurrected him for a reason. He’s your creation, after all. He may be the key to your survival.

John: A rapprochement. We learn to love each other. It’s a cliche.

Kyriakides: Something more subtle than that. What if, neurologically speaking, Benjamin is a sort of life-raft? The scrap of wood that survives the disaster?

John: Then I should cling to him?

Kyriakides: You should become him. You should colonize him.

John: You can’t put all your cargo on a raft, Max. It sinks.

Kyriakides: No … but perhaps you can save what’s most valuable.

John: I’m tired—I’d like to go back to my room.

Kyriakides: I won’t keep you. Only one more question. You’ve been remarkably successful at restraining Benjamin ever since Susan contacted you—

John: That’s why I’m tired, Max.

Kyriakides: Do you expect him to manifest his presence soon?

John: It wouldn’t surprise me. I’m not sure how to keep him away. In Indonesia, they chase away evil spirits by banging pots and pans. Would that work, Max? Stimulants are also good. But I don’t suppose Dr. Collingwood would be willing to write a prescription. [A pause.] You want to meet him—is that it?