pseud. H. G. WOODLEY - That which is Caesars. [Autobiographical reminiscences. With a portrait.].

Perditus Librer Presents

the rare

OCLC: 504877005

book:

That Which is Caesars

by

H. G. Woodley

Published 1948

THAT WHICH IS CAESARS

By the same author

CERTIFIED

SYNTHETIC MANIA

HANDBOOK FOR

MENTAL NURSES

etc.

Copyright

Pen-in-Hand Publishing Co., Ltd.

11 St. Michaels Street. Oxford.

No part of the contents of this book may be reproduced in

any form whatsoever, other than by reviewers and critics

during the course of reviews etc., unless the permission

of the publishers has first been obtained in writing.

First published 1948

Printed

In the City of Oxford by Hall the Printer Ltd.

2 Littlegate Street, Oxford.

CONTENTS

PUBLISHERS NOTE

In the knowledge that throughout the whole of his fifty-eight years of writing, Mr. H. G. Wells rarely consented to read Authors manuscripts, it seems remarkable that he should, after laying down his pen, on the publication of his last book, MIND AT THE END OF ITS TETHER, take it up once again to champion the cause of the Author. Since the publication of CERTIFIED, it is well-known that Mr. Wells was so keenly interested in the works of The Other H.G.W., as he affectionately referred to Mr. Woodley, that he actually volunteered to print and publish CERTIFIED at his own risk and expense.

It is, we think, significant that the great novelist, who never wrote prefaces, introductions or public commendations of any kind, should, at the time of his death, be about to write a preface to this book; moreover, the fact that a distinguished psychiatrist should write to the Author the letter which he has used as his Preface, bespeaks the great urgency of the problem with which Mr. Woodley deals so ably.

PREFACE

From _______________, M.D., D.P.M.

Lecturer in Psychological Medicine

To the University of _____________

______________ Mental Hospital.

22nd July, 1947.

Dear Mr. Woodley,

Very many thanks for the complimentary copy of CERTIFIED, which I have re-read with pleasure.

You will be interested to hear that on the morning of the 11th July, before I had seen Harold Nicolsons review, the latter was quoted at a very full meeting of the Royal Medico-Psychological Association (at their Annual Session at Eastbourne), by Dr. Rees-Thomas, a Senior Commissioner of the Board of Control, and next years President of the R.M.P.A. He pointed out the outstanding impressions of our mental hospitals left on the Authors mind, as told by the reviewer, and drew the attention of the assembled members to the need for change in many respects, including the important one of Classification. So you will see that your efforts will bear fruit, in time.

I shall be very happy to receive copies of SYNTHETIC MANIA and THAT WHICH IS CAESARS when they are published; and I know I will take pleasure in re-reading them. I wish you every luck with them, and hope they will repay you financially as well as morally and socially for all the work and effort you have put into them.

Yours sincerely,

_______________

PRELUDE

Today, I have been turning over my store of recollections, so that my mind goes back across the interval of thirty yearsto a seat in the moonlight where I was caught up in a gust of passion

Thirty years? It might well have been yesterday, so vivid now is my impression of Elsie Ainley She was the sun, and I, the growth that stretched out to reach her

When first we met, she was a school-girl of fourteen, with her hair in plaits; and although at that time I spoke to her in the knowledge that she was only fourteen, at the back of my mind was the thought that she would soon be fifteen, sixteen, seventeenthat one day soon, she would serve anothers purpose. Indeed, if otherwise, then why was she born?

I last saw her when she was eighteen, andto my way of thinking, greatly changed. Her dark hair was up and she wore a blouse that exposed her arms and enhanced her newly-found bosom. Her length of skirt displayed attractive legs; and like all other normal girls of eighteen, she was wiser than a man of twenty. She was aware of herselfaware of her purpose and her worth. She was different from the school-girl of fourteen, in that she was wiseas one who had eaten of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil; and this wisdom I later suspected to be due to the onset of her menstrual periods.

Now, this early impression of the female in no wise

sprang from sexual depravity; in any case, sexual depravity, like madness, is a matter of degree; nor can I attribute this impression to the morbid. It was an impression arising solely on account of the fact. It was but an example of an unreasoned prompting from my animal ancestors. It was knowledge without learning, and independent of instruction, which had been passed on and on through the countless ages. Because of this knowledge, and even as my eye looked steadfastly into hers, my soul gazed at her bosomand below it; for was she not the female, and I, the male? Yes, indeed; wherefore on all occasions of our meeting, an urge rose up from my innermost depths, bidding me investigate her. I therefore spoke soft words to her, so that one moon-lit night she agreed to accompany me for a walk in the park

Gentlemen, although I am not old-fashioned, I somehow feel that the moon had a share in what happened that night; indeed, my life with the insane has, in some measure provided the proof; for notwithstanding that the original theorywhich attributed lunacy to the effects of the moonhas long since been scorned to its grave, it remains a peculiar fact that the illusions and delusions of the insane are much in evidence with the rising and setting of the moon, and infinitely less throughout the day. Can it be mere coincidence that delusions occur so strongly at morning and night?

No, gentleman, it is no coincidence; for the moon is the Spring of the Nighta Call from out of the Darkness, to the chaste and to the loose, bidding us speak and mate; and that night as I sat with Elsie Ainley, a bright moon was shiningfilling the air with softness, mystery, knowledge and wisdomits eerie light making the park seem empty of life. I gazed at that moon, and then at my companion. She was fineas the mechanism of a field gunshe was to be desired more than rubies; and yet, when again I looked at the moon, I understood its power to create false ideas and

false effects; for like Whisky, this creator of illusions and delusions offers power, hope and happiness that is non-existent

I see her nowa pretty girl, with hair going off in curls of darkness from above her dark lustrous eyes. There was a pretty necklace around her neck; and a small brooch of gold nestled in her throat. I guessed then, and I know now, that the necklace, golden brooch, her neck, throat, exposed arms, shortened skirts and conspicuous legs were merely the sum and substance of an effort to focus attention upon her vagina

Even to those far off days, I can look back and appreciate that the veneer called Consciousness was slowly sliding from meas blankets from the bed of a sleeping man; for at adolescence I was ready, and indeed, quite willing to return to the animal whence I came. At that early age, I possessed the ability to wonder why humans consider the penis and the vagina by stealth, and under cover of darkness. In those days, I was proud of this thought. Today, I am prouderin the knowledge that such thought was justified; for I had been separated from truth at my birth. I had been deprived and frustrated