The Mask of Sanity. Hervey M. Cleckley

were playing on their sexual organs by radio, that they were sickened by the odor of the bells.

      It was here, however, that George had to be kept, a perfectly clear minded person, neat, polite, and quick witted, in striking contrast to his fellows, whose lips moved inarticulately as they responded to hallucinatory voices, and some of whom urinated and defecated on themselves, sought to eat dead roaches, etc.

      This was not, of course, an ideal environment for him. He was, therefore, replaced on the parole ward time after time, only to prove himself, after periods from a few days to a few weeks, unadoptable. When put on the closed ward among better adjusted cases of schizophrenia or dementia paralytica, men who worked on a farm detail or at woodwork, he took advantage of his situation and escaped. During much of his time in the hospital it has therefore been necessary to keep him among the actively disturbed or badly deteriorated cases where supervision is complete and possibilities of escape are limited.

      When last heard from, he was again hospitalized. Opportunities are continually offered him to improve his situation. From time to time parole is restored and occasionally his wife takes him home on furlough. Always, however, he causes trouble for himself and others and always for no discernible purpose.

      The last news of him was that he violated his parole by leaving the hospital. After sustaining himself by his customary activities for a week or ten days and staying clear of the police, he again came to grief. With the aim evidently of stealing a hen or a few fryers, or perhaps to evade pursuit, he slipped into a Negro farmer’s chicken house. Having brought along a bottle, and perhaps being delayed by needs to avoid detection, he drank injuriously. Next morning he was found in the coop where he had apparently wallowed and groped through the night. Called by the farmer, attendants brought him to the hospital. Here on a closed ward we find him, among helpless and irrational people, subject to the strict control and attention required for those who cannot direct themselves.

      Though he left school after completing the eighth grade, he writes letters which would do credit to a college graduate. In these he insists on having his freedom, stating that his difficulties in the past have been minor and that he is ready and thoroughly able to settle down to an exemplary life. He often stresses the fact that his wife and children need his protection and support. His family history is entirely negative. Parents and grandparents were hard working, sober folk, liked and respected in the little rural community where the present generation lives. One sister and three brothers are leading normal lives there today.

      CHAPTER 10. PIERRE

      Some of the patients who have been presented give concrete and abundant evidence in their behavior of a serious maladjustment and one of long duration. The diagnosis of psychopathic personality can seldom if ever be made with confidence except on such a record. Many persons at some time in their lives steal, cheat, lie, forge checks, indulge in foolish or destructive conduct, behave regrettably while drinking, and engage in unfortunate or paradoxical sexual activity. It can hardly be denied that some of the most stable and admirable of people have, during the course of achieving maturity, done all these things and worse. One important point that distinguishes the psychopath is his failure to learn and adopt a better and more fulfilling pattern of life. Another and perhaps a more fundamental point, which will be elaborated subsequently, is that psychopaths give a strong impression of lacking the fundamental responses and emotional susceptibility which probably play a dominant part in helping other people avoid this type of maladjustment.

      It is, perhaps, worthwhile for us to consider now a patient whose record so far may not establish him beyond question with our group of those clinically disabled, but whose inmost reactions, in so far as one can judge them, strongly indicate that his disorder is the same and that his subsequent career will unmistakably place him.

      Not long ago his parents made an appointment for him by mail. They accompanied him from a thriving community in Northern Florida where for the last sixty years the members of this family had been sober and respected citizens. There was a good deal of pride in these people, not a vain or pretentious self-esteem but a modest dignity that seemed to be cherished more as a responsibility than as an ornament.

      These parents were truly concerned about their son. A dozen or more letters and reports from school teachers, from the family physician, the rector of the church, the scoutmaster, a high school coach, etc., arrived before the patient. From this material came many facts and opinions. The patient’s remote antecedents had lived in or about Charleston, S. C., in colonial times. They had never been famous for wealth or political influence, but in the Revolutionary War, as well as in the War Between the States, they had played a part which rooted them deeply in sectional traditions of distinction. In Florida, where this branch of the family had moved almost twenty years before the present century, they had established a good name and a sound, unsnobbish sort of prominence. Unlike the fictional Southerners preoccupied with (frequently exaggerated) glories of the past, the———’s had continued to live primarily in the present and to live rather effectively.

      One school teacher who had done graduate work in psychology gave a good deal of consideration to this boy’s name, which, as a fair equivalent, we shall give as Pierre. As she pointed out, an Englishman can be called Percival, Jasper, Evelyn or Vivian without much risk, but in the ordinary American community such a name might endanger a boy’s soul. This young man had been christened Pierre ————, probably not as an extravagant gesture toward the exotic or to past glories, but almost as a matter of course. Such given names had been customary among these descendants of early Charleston Huguenots, and the present generation felt nothing conspicuous in what to them was so familiar and commonplace. In these parents speculation probably never arose about how a French name might sound to the fellows who played football in the vacant lot by the gas-house and “rabbitted” sissies with brick-bats. In agreement with his thoughtful teacher’s final conclusion, I am inclined to believe that this name, despite its potential dangers, caused the patient little difficulty. Even before he began school he was always called Pete. And his family conformed to this custom.

      After his parents had been interviewed separately and together, Pete came into the office. He stood about six feet tall, held himself well, and appeared more mature than would be expected of a boy still eighteen. He at once impressed me as being enviably at his ease. Though not extraordinary in its features, his face was pleasant, candid, and alert. As our conversation progressed, indications of excellent intelligence soon appeared, along with suggestions of a character forceful but not undesirably self-assertive or aggressive.

      Pete expressed disappointment about having had to withdraw from college and seemed remarkably frank in discussing the causes of his predicament. His story was the same incomprehensible story already heard from his parents and corroborated by the several detailed reports.

      A forged check had brought Pete before the dean. He did not deny his guilt but, in a straightforward way, seemed ready to meet the consequences like a gentleman. The dean was puzzled, not that a young man might forge a check, but that it should be this particular man with his fine record, his appearance of sincerity, and his brave way of handling a situation presumably painful and embarrassing.

      Several points made the incident difficult to explain. The check had been cashed at a little tavern by the gates of the college, a place virtually integral with the campus where students were intimately known to the cashier and the waitresses. The owner of this place, a college-life character for generations, prided himself on calling the freshmen by name and on his closeness to the boys. It would have been easy for Pete to cash such a check at dozens of places where his chances of escaping detection would have been vastly better. He had, it would seem, picked the place where his misdeed could most easily be traced to him. Furthermore, he had not chosen as victim someone unlikely to find him out, but the father of a girl he had been dating regularly during the seven months he had been at college. In forging the name, he had taken no great care to disguise his handwriting or to make a good imitation of the real signature.

      There was difficulty in conceiving of a possible motive. With the dean Pete seemed thoroughly at ease. In a manly, well-controlled manner he expressed his profound regret, his willingness to make restitution or to submit to any penalty. The check amounted to only $35.00