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PARTISAN REVIEW
under his disapproving gaze sat up with slow indifference. His eyebrows
raised high in resignation, he began to examine his hands. Howe relaxed
and turned his attention back to Tertan.
"Flux of existence," Tertan was saying, "produces all things, so
that judgment wavers. Beyond the phenomena, what? But phenomena
are adumbrated and to them we are limited."
Howe saw it for a moment as perhaps it existed in the boy's mind–
the world of shadows which are cast by a great light upon a hidden
reality as in the old myth of the Cave. But the little brush with Stetten·
hover had tired him and he said irritably, "But come to the point, Mr.
Tertan."
He said it so sharply that some of the class looked at him curiously.
For three months he had gently carried Tertan through his verbosities,
to the vaguely respectful surprise of the other students, who seemed
to conceive that there existed between this strange classmate and their
teacher some special understanding from which they were content to
be
excluded. Tertan looked at him mildly and at once carne brilliantly to
the point. "This is the summation of the play," he said and took up his
book and read, " 'Your poor father never found any outlet for the over·
mastering joy of life that was
in
him. And I brought no holiday into
his home, either. Everything seemed to turn upon duty and I am afraid
I made your poor father's home unbearable to him, Oswald.' Spoken by
Mrs. Alving.''
Yes, that was surely the "summation" of the play and Tertan had
hit it, as he hit, deviously and eventually, the literary point of almost
everything. But now, as always, he was wrapping it away from sighL
"For most mortals," he said, "there are only joys of biological urgings,
gross and crass, such as the sensuous Captain Alving. For certain few
there are the transmutations beyond these to a contemplation of the
utter whole.''
Oh, the boy was mad. And suddenly the word, used in hyperbole,
intended almost for the expression of exasperated admiration, became
literal. Now that the word was used, it became simply apparent to Howe
that Tertan was mad.
It was a monstrous word and stood like a bestial thing in the room.
Yet it so completely comprehended everything that had puzzled Howe,
it so arranged and explained what for three months had been perplexing
him that almost at once its horror became domesticated. With this word
Howe was able to understand why he had never been able to communi·
cate to Tertan the value of a single criticism or correction of his wild,
verbose themes. Their conferences had been frequent and long but had
done nothing to reduce to order the splendid confusion of the boy's ideas.
Yet, impossible though its expression was, Tertan's incandescent mind
could always strike for a moment into some dark corner of thought.
And now it was suddenly apparent that it was not a faulty rhetoric
that Howe had to contend with. With his new knowledge he looked
at
