36 Myron SharafFury On Earth
about his own problems except in what might be described as an excess of virtue; for exam-
ple, he had been too loyal to Freud and Marx. Yet one sensed problems in his background,
one had the feeling that his life had been stormy.
Much fascinated me about Reich, in particular that mixture of a very simple human
being prepared to do the simplest of tasks, and a grand, remote, lonely person acutely aware
of his destiny, of who he was or at least thought he was. I recall his saying once, more to
himself than anyone else, “A person like me comes along once every thousand years.”
One further paradox connected with Reich was that the people around him were
just ordinary people; they were not “unarmored,” “orgastically potent,” or anything else spe-
cial. By and large, as loyal workers they tried to do their best. Often they parroted Reich and
were afraid to stand up to him. He in turn “used” them as much as they, in a different way,
“used” him, to bask in his reflected glory, to have some sense of being part of great, expand-
ing themes. People would work for him for nothing or for very little recompense. He
claimed they were learning a lot, and so they were. He accepted, indeed asked for, consider-
able financial help from his followers. When people dropped out of his close circle, it hurt
him but he went on relentlessly, replacing defectors with new adherents.
So there was Reich, this problematical person, and I was trying hard to understand
him,keeping notes on everything, including therapy. One night, late, I remember sitting in
the laboratory translating while he was working with his instruments. Half to me, half into
the night, he remarked: “When it is late and quiet and lonesome, then it is good. “ Sometimes
on such nights, he would wear a revolver strapped to his waist. The combination of the gun
and a bandana tied around his neck made him look like a guerrilla chieftain. He said: “Don’t
think I am peculiar because I wear a gun on my hip. You will learn about these things after
a while.”
In the fall of 1948, Grethe and I returned to Boston, Reich to Forest Hills. I con-
tinued working part time for him and also remained in therapy, commuting to New York
once a week.In January 1949 I was graduated from Harvard, and Grethe from her social
work school, so we moved to New York to facilitate my work and therapy with Reich.
During the summer I again worked for Reich at Orgonon, though I took a break from ther-
apy.
Throughout this period the various strains with Reich increased. Soon after I
resumed therapy with him in the fall of 1949, my treatment, my work with him, and my mar-
riage collapsed. I became acutely aware of many neurotic aspects to all three. I was also furi-
ous at Reich for not having seen through my subconscious games of always presenting
Grethe Hoffm a favorable light, myself in an unfavorable one. I was furious at his fury as a
therapist toward me over the Gordon imbroglio. Now at last my “negative transference “ a
concept Reich heavily emphasized, fully erupted. Still, I was angry that I had to reach a state
of collapse before he could fully accept my hostile feelings.
There were in addition depressed feelings about what I regarded as my failures both
as a patient and a worker.I was angry at Grethe, particularly for the pressure she had exert-
ed for our legal marriage. The dream that I had clung to so ardently from my Army days of