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XL
IN SPITE OF my
first beginning interest in the "theoretical"
aspect of the Gurdjieff work at the Prieure, this interest was
cut short by two letters which I received shortly before
Christmas in the year 1928. One was from Jane, who had
arranged that Tom and I would spend Christmas with her
in Paris, and I gathered that it was to be in the nature of
a reconciliation between Jane and myself.
The second letter was from my mother in Chicago, who had
been able to convince my stepfather that it was time for me
to come back to the United States; there was even an enclosure
from my stepfather asking me to come back and assuring me
that I would be supported, educated, and welcome. My
decision was instantaneous, and did not involve any inner
conflicts. I wanted to return to America. Because my mother's
letter indicated that Jane would not be either consulted or
notified until they had heard from me, I decided not to mention
the possibility of my leaving France until after Christmas.
We did go to Paris for Christmas, and Jane and I were
reconciled. Since our relationship had always been charac-
terized by its explosive quality, once we had, very emotionally,
buried the past, I could not keep to my resolve, since I did
not feel that I should disguise my intentions and wishes once
we were on good terms again. I told Jane, honestly, and
because of my new found goodwill towards her, that I wanted
to return to the United States.
But I had forgotten that, as a minor, I could not leave Jane's
custody, and that I should have to stay at the Prieure, at least
until I was of age.
It would be uninteresting and boring to even attempt to
describe the nine months that followed. As far as any willing
participation on my part was concerned, I might as well have
left the Prieure that very day, Although I continued to per-
form, in a desultory way, whatever work was assigned to me,
my memory of that entire time is nothing more than a blur,
punctuated only by letters from America and from Paris,
visits by Jane to the Prieure for the purpose of further argu
ment, plus lectures and advice from many of the older students
who had been brought into the argument by Jane, all of which,
as was usual with me, only served to increase my determination
to leave at any cost. I was particularly surprised, during the
summer of that year, that Gurdjieff had not been brought
actively into the question of my departure. He was finally
brought into it in the early fall, presumably because of the
influence and persistence of my mother and stepfather who
had by this time even bought me a ticket, and had probably
even gone so far -- although I have no personal knowledge of
this -- as to threaten some sort of legal action. In any event,
something had happened to cause Jane to consider agreeing
to my departure. Her arguments now took the form of appeals
to my good sense, rather than simple, straightforward threats.
Instead of seeing Gurdjieff at the Prieure, I was taken to
Paris to see him, in the company of Jane, at the Cafe de la
Pa ix, which was his usual "writing cafe" when he was in Paris.
We went there in the evening and Jane proceeded to talk for
a very long time, advancing all of her arguments, deploring
my resistance and the fact that I did not understand or realize
that I was probably giving up the greatest opportunity for
knowledge, and education, that I would ever have; she also
went into the legal position at some length.
As always, Gurdjieff listened carefully and thoughtfully, but
when she had finished he did not have very much to say. He
asked me if I had listened to everything that she had said and
if I had considered the whole situation. I said that I had and
that my decision remained unchanged. He then told Jane that
while he did not feel that there was much use for her to con-
tinue to argue with me about my decision, he would consider
the whole situation and would talk to me, personally, in the
near future.
When we had left him, Jane told me that, for me to leave
at all, it would be necessary to break the adoption in so far as
I was concerned -- none of this related to Tom in any way --
and that this could only be done through the American Consul
in Paris; that it was very difficult and might even be impos-
sible, and also that I was causing nothing but a great deal of
trouble for everyone else in addition to giving up the oppor-
tunity of a lifetime. All I could do was listen and wonder if
she would ever stop raging at me, and I took recourse in
total silence.
Gurdjieff did talk to me, but only very briefly, when we
were both back at the Prieure. He said that he wanted to know
if I had considered and evaluated my relationships to my
mother, to Jane, and to himself and the school conscientiously
and if, having done so, I still wanted to go back to America.
I said that I thought I had, to the best of my ability, that I had
been unhappy with Jane for several years now; as to himself
and the Prieure, I had no particular desire to leave the school
or to part from him, but that I did want to be with my own
family; that I was an American and would not, in any case,
stay in France for the rest of my life. I felt that I belonged in
America.
Gurdjieff did not object to any of this, and said that he would
not oppose my leaving and that when Jane consulted him
about it, he would tell her so.
The effect of Gurdjieff's decision not to oppose me was
remarkable. Not only did Jane capitulate, but came to the
Prieure and announced that all the details -- tickets, passport,
legal papers, etc. -- had been arranged. I was to leave in a few
days and she, accompanied by Tom and a friend of hers,
would drive me to Cherbourg to take the boat. I felt, instinc-
tively, that this was an unnecessary journey and protested that
I could just as well go on the train, but she was insistent about
making the trip with me and putting me on the boat.
I said goodbye to Gurdjieff early in the afternoon of the
same day that I was to leave. He was going to Paris and would
not be there when we departed. The usual crowd was
assembled at the entrance to the main building around his
car, and he said goodbye to everyone. I hung back, feeling
depressed and uncertain now that the moment was upon me,
and he beckoned to me as he was about to get into his car.
I went over to him, and first he shook my hand, looked at me
with a smile on his face, and said, rather sadly I thought :
"So you decide to go?"
I was only able to nod my head at him. Then he put his
arm around me, leaned over and kissed my cheek, and said :
"Must not be sad. Sometime maybe you will come back;
remember that in life anything can happen."
At that moment, for the only time in many months, I
regretted my decision. Whatever had taken place at the
Prieure, whatever I had or had not experienced or learned,
my affection for Gurdjieff had remained essentially undi
minished. I realized, although not immediately, that if he had
at any time put the question of my departure on a personal,
emotional level -- the end of my personal association with
him -- I probably would not have left. He did not; as I have
said, he always seemed to me to play fair.
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