Browning chief. [volume] (Browning, Mont.) 1941-1953, 1941-02-07
ASSTA\or

back as memory could take him, he
had been afflicted with a strange and
namelesS loneliness, an indefinable
sense Of vo!d-not in the objective
world about him, but within his sub
liminal self. AS he grew older, it be-
came haunting feeling of a loss, the
nature of which e!uded him all the
more effectively the stronger it be-
came Sometimes, on waking, or while
listening TO beautiful bit Of music.
or standing alone before a gorgeous
sunset-or even walking in rain
through a Squalid section of the slums
he would suddenly start as If re-
Vealing brilliance we're about to burst
within his consciousness, and he would
go hot and cold with suspense. But
the instant would pass, leaving him
bewildered.
And then. one morning, it came to
him." Malcolm continued softly. He
was the victim of an incredible,
bounding hallucination. He was con-
WINGED that he was a twin"
Malcolm waved his hand. THE con-
viction had come upon him suddenly
about six months before his interview
with me, and the obsession had grown
SO that now he could think of nothing
else. His new play was hanging III
mid-air A month before his coming to
see me he had fallen in love and was
engaged to be married. But he could
not contemplate matrimony while he
thought he was losing his mind"
A few weeks after his birth CDR.
Malcolm related had been taken
from an orphanage in the middle west
and adopted by childless couple in
good circumstances who had the in
telligence to make him gradually
of xLair t,-,,4 11o< l,sv 10
him before outside influences should
present it as a shock. His devoted fos-
ter parents were both killed in an
automobile accident when he was 10
years old, but j knew that his nos
talgia for something strange and OBJ
scure had not begun with their death.
1t had existed vaguely long before,
back in the delicate miSts of first
consciousness.
And its nebulous form, always just
beyond reach. remained with him
through the years while he was under
the guardianship of his foster fathers
cousin in Chicago, and on into ma
turity. He had inherited enough money
to give him good schooling, but after
that he was on his own, and his fare
well to the Chicago cousin was a
breaking of the last tie with the past.
The cousin, in response to is ques-
tons concerning his origin, could tell
him nothing except that an orphanage
in Minneapolis or st. Paul had had
something to do with 1t. Even the
name of the institution had escaped
him. ] was forced to resign himself to
what he had already begun to con-
slider sort Of poetic anonymity, and
after that his awareneSs Of something
profoundly hidden and yet ever bright
ly near came upon him with increasing
frequency.
He early showed a flair for writing,
his graduation from college. gave
promise of future achievement" But
the future was cruelty slow In COM
ing. For seven years he lived in New
York-barely lived, and his companion
was solitude-or that other occasion
visitor who would still materialize
into nothing more than an inscrutable
cloud upon his mind.
At last, he wrote play which met
with instant success. and another one
directly on its heels. He had always
been mercurial and highstrung. and
the mercileSs pace he set for himself
in his work finally began to tell on
his nerves. No matter how we'll his
plays were received, he was never sat-
isfied with them.
Then, suddenly, there nared within
his brain an idea for a play so bril-
liant that his own coldly analytical
mind assured him that now he had
reached the heights of genius. He fell
to work upon 1t. and did not leave
his desk for seven days and nights,
except for the briefest snatches Of
food and sleep. The play found a
ready buyer. and went into produc-
ton at once.
Three months later. on the opening
night. j was to be seen nowhere abnat
the theater He was locked alone in
his apartment. where he had INSTRUCT
ed his japanese man-s.rvant to ignore
the ringing of doorben CT telephone.
and he was getting thoroughly and
fantsstically drunk for the first time
In his life.