A Life of Promise, A Life Foreshortened1
Deirdre A. Kramer and Dana R. Bowling2
Department of Psychology
Rutgers, The State University of New Jersey
53 Avenue E, Piscataway, NJ 08854-8040
1
Paper prepared for the 14th Annual Adult Development Symposium of The Society for Research in Adult Development, June, 1999.
2
The authors are indebted to the Douglass Scholars Program, The Dean of Douglass College, the Associate Alumnae of Douglass College, and the Special Collections and University Archives of the Rutgers University Libraries. We are also indebted to the members of a Douglass honors seminar on Psychobiography taught by the first and attended by the second author, in which we began to formulate the ideas represented in this paper; to the Alumnae of the Class of 1938 who shared their recollections with our class; to William Skvarch and Anita Santiago, who shared their memories of the Kangler family with us; to James and Sara Velcheck, who contributed the Kangler materials to the University Archives; and to Thomas Frusciano, Althea E. Miller, and Lois Baldessari, who conducted the initial archival cataloguing of the Kangler materials and, along with Erika Gorder of the Archives, lent their expertise in this work.
A Life of Promise, A Life Foreshortened
Mary Clara Kangler was born in the coal mining town of Duryea, Pennsylvania, in August, 1917, the second child of Johanna and Alois Kangler, who immigrated from Slovenia in 1909. Her elder sister, Elsie, was born in April, 1913. They had a younger brother, who died tragically when he fell into a well and drowned at the age of 3, in Duryea. Sometime after that, the Kangler family moved to Dunellen, a middle-class town in Central New Jersey. Clara, as she was called, was considered by her family to be the intellectually gifted sibling who would attend college. Her sister, Elsie, who was not given the choice to go to college by her parents, worked in a printing shop setting print and helped finance Clara’s college education.
Clara graduated high school with honors and went on to pursue her Bachelor’s degree at New Jersey College for Women (NJC), which later became Douglass College. She graduated in 1938 with general college honors and distinction in English. In both High School and at NJC, Clara was well-liked and involved in many extra-curricular activities. After graduation, she the commuted by train to New York City from the family home in Dunellen, where she worked for 6 years as a secretary for McGraw Hill Publishing Company while pursuing a Masters degree in English at Columbia University. She was awarded the Masters in 1944, writing her thesis on feminist Sarah Grand. She then worked as a Secretary for almost two years at Appleton Century Company followed by Simon and Schuster, Inc., both in NYC, until April, 1946. At that time (April, 1946), Clara suffered what is self-described as a nervous breakdown, which she attributed to years of hard work at NJC, Columbia, and the publishing companies and to a painful, hurtful love affair with a married man. She retreated to the family home to recuperate. She suffered from symptoms consistent with Major Depression, including extreme fatigue, withdrawal from normal activities, anhedonia, loss of appetite, lack of interest in her appearance, low self-worth, and frequent bouts of crying. She also suffered terrible headaches, an apparent cessation of her period, and was diagnosed with a thyroid condition and prescribed medication for it. Despite her condition, she resumed working in June, 1946 as a secretary for J.H. Manning & Company, in New York City.
By November, 1946, Clara had recovered sufficiently to embark on an extended trip to Miami, where she hoped to accomplish three things: regain her health, make a good deal of money, and write a novel. An overriding goal was her desire to make her mark on the world and provide for her self and family financially. During her time in Florida, she and her sister, Elsie, were avid correspondents, exchanging several letters a week. There are other letters received by Clara during this time period, as well. The letters document Clara’s excitement at her new-found strength, her reflections on the breakdown, her struggle to avoid yet another depression, and her attempts to achieve her career objectives. They also provide a vivid glimpse into her social life and her attitudes about social mores of the day. Sadly, they document her unraveling relationships with the world around her and the disruption this created in her sense of self. While she worked for two months as a Secretary at the Dade County Port Authority and was initially satisfied with her position there, she becomes disenchanted and apparently intends to quit in early January) but is (for reasons described below) relieved of her duties before she has a chance to do so. After that, which she moves from one job to another, undertaking at least four new positions between January and July, the last of which is legal secretary and lasts for about five months. Her growing dissatisfaction with Florida, increasing fatigue, and depression precipitates a return to Dunellen in July, 1947, her goals unmet. Upon returning home, Clara took a job teaching at a local business college. In September of that year, she took her life. Her sister, Elsie, discovered her body in the basement of their home.
Clara’s Breakdown
Clara characterizes the six-month period at home as indescribably dark. She uses the word "harrowing." In describing it, she also states:
"... I’m still reminded too forcibly that only a short 5 months ago I didn’t know whether I was coming or going and that life meant nothing to me." (Letter to Elsie, 2/24/47)
According to Thomas Moore, in Care of the Soul, depression can signal a person the need to look inward and connect with unearthed parts of the self and, as such, can be the source of growth. This belief was held by Clara, as well as her Confessor, Father Leary, a Catholic Priest whom she wrote. In his response to her, he wrote:
"Gethsemane is the toughest of all ordeals. Principally and primarily because it is entirely intramental and uniquely individual and personal. But once endured, it affords a better, more wholesome aspect and understanding of one’s own nature. And surely you have undergone your Gethsemane and from all indications it should be one of the greatest assets to all that lies before you." (Letter from Fr. Leary to Clara, 11/20/46)
Clara appears to have viewed her breakdown as a source of important personal growth, as seen in the following quotes from both her letters and her novel pages, respectively:
"Now, of course, I’m not so sorry I had six months of depression because apparently it has given me a new perspective on life. As I’ve said before, my mind these days is beautifully clear; I guess Columbia, McGraw-Hill, etc., etc. superimposed on 4 years of NJC, etc. muddled it up to its saturation point, but now it’s functioning without any hitches. That book I’m going to write is right ‘under the heart of me’ if I may borrow Cole Porter’s words and I have an idea it’s going to be a honey. When you come down in January bring all the yellow pads around the house. I may be ready for it then." (Letter to Elsie, 11/26/46)
"The wonder of this unconscious, involuntary rejuvenation continually surprised her. She could not quite believe that now, at 29, after the storm and stress of earlier days, she could face life with such freshness of spirit, such fearlessness and such aplomb. She was almost completely cynical and devoid of illusion, and yet this matter-of-fact, unembellished attitude did not decrease her enjoyment of living. She was aware, with almost a painful clarity, that life was a continual struggle for survival — not specifically in an economic sense, since that fundamentally did not concern her — but socially, spiritually, and mentally; and she was aware that it held, as a whole, a chain of disappointments and personal failures for all. Yet, despite this knowledge, she was happier than she had ever been before. Each day was a new challenge, and each brought a richness that strengthened and encouraged." (p. 1 of what is believed to be her novel.)
"And now, too, at last she could be honest with herself; in fact, she found dishonesty could throw her mind and spirit into confusion and bewilderment, which made it a necessity in her life. She realized, by dint of trial and error and a harrowing experience, that it was the only way she could live at peace with the world in general and with herself. The poets had been right, after all, she knew now, when they spoke of the freedom of spirit which could only come with a complete knowledge of oneself." (p. 2 of novel pages)
However, she may have been too quick to assure both herself and others that the ordeal was over., as in the following almost too-rosy depiction in her novel and in a letter home:
"As the warm winter days followed one after the other, here in this tropical city, she felt a placidity and calm envelop her personality that had hitherto been absent from her life. The problems that had once been seemingly insurmountable; the burdens that had weighed down her spirit; the tensions and fears of the past -- all the paraphernalia of a cluttered, unhappy life -- these were gone and in their stead had come a peace and steadfastness of outlook that did not desert her in moments of need and depression" (p.1 of what remains of Clara’s novel)
"I’m still surprised: that someone who was so completely down and out last year, a year ago, should today be solidly recovered from all shocks, surprises or despair, and can blithely dye her hair and wisecrack with all the strange creatures in Miami Beach and get a hell of a big kick out of just living." (Letter to Elsie, 3/25/47)
Clara was not fully recovered and would experienced a relapse, a self-described "mini-breakdown," after returning to Miami in the days following Christmas, resulting in a return home for approximately a week to recuperate, followed by a return to Miami to continue her general recuperation. During this time, she is relieved of her duties at the Dade County Port Authority and begins work in the travel industry. She feels a surge of energy and fills her life with hard work and planning, until beginning to succumb once again around the end of March to the effects of fatigue, illness and, eventually, depression:
"Lately it seems to me I’ve lost a little of my spark of a few months ago, but that’s because I’m getting a little tired and need a rest." (Letter to Elsie, 5/15/47)
"It seems I just haven’t felt in the mood for writing anything these past few days, which explains the long delay in letters." (Letter to Elsie, 6/3/47)
"Am still feeling pretty low, and am still undecided about what to do — stay here or come home. Things looks pretty black for me right now, and I’ve got to begin making some decisions fast. I’m so tired of trying to make ends meet and not making any kind of headway financially that I don’t quite know what to do. I’m afraid my fine fervour is wearing thin. (Letter to Elsie, 6/12/47)
"I have been in one terrible mood for the past week & a half, & I’m just now slowly beginning to pull out of it. It was a result of a number of things — overwork, lack of confidence in myself & the book, worry over money, a more or less general breakdown of my personality such as only a complete jackass like myself can have, etc., etc. I am determined, though, that I shall not let it get me down." (Letter to Elsie, 6/15/47)
That was Clara’s last letter home. Clara ceased writing to Elsie at that point, though her presence in Florida is glimpsed through the several letters Elsie wrote her in the remaining month Clara was in Florida.
What led Clara to her ultimate act of self-annihilation? Any of a number of medical or psychological conditions could have precipitated and/or fueled her depression, including a mood disorder (perhaps due to a chemical imbalance); the thyroid condition; a deep divide in her sense of self and identity, taking the form of a narcissistic disturbance that fueled an incessant drive for achievement and attempts to forge a grandiose self-concept followed by disappointment, disillusionment, and depletion; unusual vulnerability to loss and inability to form deeply sustaining connections with others that empathized with her deepest longings; and a natural endowment with an intelligence and perceptiveness that enabled her to peer beneath the surface realities that most of us operate within, rendering her vulnerable to depression. Moreover, she was a woman coming of age in the wake of the Great Depression and when opportunities for talented women such as herself were more limited than they are today. However, while it is tempting to seek singular causes of Clara’s depression and suicide, the causes are complex, multi-faceted and most likely highly individual (Gilbert, 1992). All of the above factors undoubtedly formed a synergistic constellation that resulted in her struggles. Also, while it is tempting to think that today Clara would have undoubtedly received better treatment for her depression, Gilbert (1992) notes that even with improved biological interventions depression and suicide are on the rise. Therefore, we cannot conclude that it is exclusively or primarily a biological disease.
Clara was a psychological being occupying a physical body in environmental and social time and place. We cannot expect to separate out one dimension of this matrix to capture the full essence of her depression or any aspect of her experience. The task, rather, is to explore the individual way in which she handled her internal and external pressures and how depression took form and shape in her life. as well as her strategies for coping with it. Clara wanted her story told, but never published her novel. We, now, tell her story for her. Since Clara’s writings provide a telescope into her psychological experience, our focus will be to illustrate aspects of her psychological experience.
There is considerable evidence of emotional turmoil in Clara’s life that is at least partly situated in her personality structure and family dynamics. Our work is based on Clara’s high-school diary; letters to and from her, both in and shortly after college and during the time she resided in Miami,;Clara’s college notebooks and both high-school and college term papers; her Masters Thesis on the life of Victorian-England feminist novelist Sarah Grand; three pages of what appears to be the introduction to her unfinished novel and six pages of what appear to be a scene from the book; other writings; scrapbooks; and memorabilia. We were also fortunate enough to speak to three NJC classmates of Clara, two close friends of her sister’s in later life, and both an extended family member of Elsie’s and a close childhood and family friend, each of whom read about this work in a newspaper article and contacted the first author. This work began as part of an honors seminar on Psychobiography taught by the first author and taken by the second author, in which the class worked on the Kangler archives, culminating in a library exhibit at the Mabel Smith Douglass Library that ran from January 25, 1999 to March 25, 1999. We are indebted to the members of the class and to the Archivists at the Special Collections and University Archives of Rutgers University Libraries, for it was in the context of that class that we first began to formulate the ideas that appear in this paper.
To the untrained observer, Clara was an attractive, intelligent, charming, and vibrant person. Few, if any, would have suspected her inner turmoil. An honors student throughout high school and college, she had many friends and was well-liked both at school and in the workplace, and was involved in the social life around her. She appeared well-adjusted and was a high functioning young woman. In 8th grade, she was Chairman of the Drama Club, writing and performing in plays for production there. Among her high-school activities, she was a writer and for her school publications, The Searchlight and Echo and wrote her own column for the former publication. She was Chairman of the Junior Prom, and active in sports and cheerleading, earning her school letters, and served as Assistant Manager for her athletic team. Among her college activities, she served as columnist and Book Editor for Campus News, her college newspaper, writing numerous book reviews; was a junior class officer (Treasurer); was Chairman of a trans-college pre-college weekend for top high-school students sponsored by a consortium of women’s colleges; was a literary editor of her college yearbook, The Quair; was selected for and participated in Philalethean (An English Honors Society); and at various times was a member of the German Club, Education Club, and Social Amenities. She also co-authored the skit for Senior Class Day Exercises, entitled A Senior Passes. She dated, went to balls, and was a bridesmaid in her college roommate’s wedding. She graduated with honors from both high-school and college, was in the top 10% of her high-school class (19 of 189 students), and was the sole English major in NJC Class of ‘38 to graduate with Distinction in English.
Clara’s Depression
As early as the 8th grade, Clara’s diary reveals evidence of chronic depression; she may have suffered from Dysthymia. She complains of an unbearable fatigue and a sense of futility; there is evidence of depersonalization.
"Nearly drownded [sic] trying to swim — wouldn’t have been a great loss." (Clara’s Diary, 2/25/31)
"Reading — that’s the only thing left for me out of the remnants of ashes." (Clara’s Diary, 3/15/31)
She notes in her diary the contrast between her oppressive inner world and her contented outward appearance. Unfortunately, we do not have earlier records that might reveal whether the depressive symptoms existed before puberty. It is apparent from her writings, though, that at times she suffered from low self-esteem, vacillating between feelings of empowerment and confidence and feelings of low worth and despair. She states:
"I went out with Mr. B. ... He says he likes me but I don’t believe him... I can’t imagine anyone liking me... he just probably felt in the mood for swearing on the old ‘oil.’" (Diary entry, July, 1934)
Other evidence of her low self-esteem appear:
"Today I feel like the Biggest Ape in the Jungle—"(Diary entry, 3/23/30)
"This year I’ve made packs of New Year resolutions... I hope that I will be better in every respect this next year." (Diary entry, 1932)
What is the source of her low self-esteem? Her writings provide a glimpse of the inner dynamics of an easily-disrupted self-system that suggests a narcissistic disturbance. This is evident in at least four ways, through: 1) apparent feelings of emptiness and dissociation, an inability to connect with her inner vitality (despite the outer vitality of which she was able to convince others); 2) a relentless, unforgiving, and exhausting drive to excel and seemingly prove her worth to herself and others; and 3) continual attempts at self-justification, a desperate plea for assurance that she is okay, not deeply and irreparably flawed; and 4) use of defense mechanisms such as splitting and devaluation.
Emptiness
Clara’s writings reveal feelings of loneliness and emptiness that lay beneath the veneer of popularity, purposeful involvement in activities, and success. She seems to be going through the motions of living. Life is too often felt as an unbearable weight. There’s an automaton-like deadness that she seems to feel at times, as early as 8th grade (indeed, the feeling rarely leaves her during that entire school year):
"Today is the beginning of another week. I simply hate to go to school anymore... I hate everything. Everything goes crooked... / Another day, another drudge. I got my forsaken, hideous, horrible terrible seat back again. I hate it — so. / Just another dull, uninteresting day. Will this drudgery ever end? In my heart, I know it will. / Another day, another drudge. Always the same routine. I’m a dreamer, but will my dreams come true? / Saturday is always a drudge. I hate it. Why can’t I have my heart’s desire? I’ll have it someday, though. / On Sundays, I always go to Church. It gives me hope and I grope on blindly... School, school, school. Always the same old things. I never hated anything so. I am still hunting for my Rainbow Gold." (Clara’s Diary entries, 2/3/30 through 2/10/30)
"Beginning of another week of tiresome school. If anyone knew how I love it — O Dear --" (Clara’s Diary, 2/19/30-3/3/30)
"Another week is coming. Another week will be gone. Same thing always. I’d like a change-- / A continuation of yesterday. You only have to stand [it] — then you’re ok — But can you?" (Clara’s Diary, 3/13/30)
This feeling recedes somewhat after she enters high-school and her heart beats with excitement at the newness and variety she discoveres there. Many excerpts from her diary reveal a tremendous love of, excitement about, and satisfaction in learning. At times, reading provides her main source of comfort and gratification. However, even despite the pleasures and joys of high school, she occasionally reverts to the deadening feeling of sameness and later, in reflecting back on her high-school years, states that she has been depressed 3/4 of the time. Some quotes:
"Everything goes on the same. Nothing different. (1/19/31)
Her reaction takes on a dissociative aspect when she describes herself in a daze:
"Another day gone — Gone forever. I feel as if I were in a daze. I can’t explain what it can mean." (1/24/31)
"Another week gone. Is Life just an Empty Dream? Sometimes it seems that way." (5/15/31)
The feeling is evident as an adult, too, in the pages that appear to be a scene from her novel and in a number of the book reviews she wrote for the college newspaper, as evident in those features of the characters’ lives she sought for analysis. In the scene from her novel, the heroine is going through the motions of love, devoid of feeling:
"You have told him a hundred times that you are in love with him, that you want to marry him. And yet right now, and on every occasion in the past, his nearness means nothing to you. It brings you no thrill, so surge of happiness or joy. He is actually a stranger to you who has somehow usurped a place of eminence in your life which doesn’t rightfully belong to him. Yet you tolerate him, and lie, lie, lie." (excerpt from one of Clara’s apparent novel pages)
The themes to which Clara devotes her attention in her book reviews provide a noticeable parallel to those in her own life, and as such provide a further window into her psyche. In describing the Northwest Passage, she states that it
"is more than a brilliant pageant of history...Kenneth Roberts is satirizing in a prevailing good humored manner, that can, however, become bitingly sharp on occasion, the inexpressible dull follies and stupidities of a sometimes monotonous world. The petty hates that men have for one another, the incredible narrowness of some minds, the fruitless dreams and fancies of certain schemers — these are only a few of the many absurdities that seem to be man’s peculiar heritage and that somehow repeat themselves over and over again in a tireless, unchanging similarity." (Clara’s review of Northwest Passage for the college newspaper)
Clara was only too aware of the absurdities and too often destructive and fruitless strivings of human lives.
Relentless Drive
One of the ways Clara seems to cope with feelings of depression and/or deep feelings of unworthiness, or perhaps trying to fill the inner void she feels is through at times frenetic activity and pursuit of external rewards--as though she is trying to wake herself from that daze she describes in the diary passage quoted above. As early as 9th grade, Clara shows striving for perfection and/or achievement, sometimes to the point of exhaustion, and rarely to her complete satisfaction.
"People may think I’m a fool but I’m not. They won’t have worry long I can say." (Clara’s Diary, 12/22/30)
"I’ve really achieved a lot — I got all A’s on my report card this month... I hope I can get A’s for the rest of the year." (Clara’s diary, 2/25/32)
"Well, our plans for the Brown and White contest are getting underway. I have been so busy running around and worrying about the Dances that I don’t give it much thought. But anyway, I finally did think about it, and then I had to rush around again. Charlotte appointed me her assistant manager, and that’s no small job. I am also going to be cheer leader.... I was one of the leaders, too. I got 3rd place in the Posture Contest — but that didn’t mean anything. Ruth got 1st place — The lucky stiff. But that was the first time I had gone out for it — so that was purty good — huh?... I also got my BB letter, which I had wanted for so long... Boy was I thrilled. But the lousy part of it was that the Whites won the contest... But, wait — next year we’ll win if I can bet anything so — that’s that. I was sorta glad it was over, because I was so worried. Of course, now that I’ve got my BB I don’t have to worry about going out for sports... My marks are all pretty good, I’ve been on the honor roll every month except once when J. Noel gave me a C+ in Physics. But I do worry about that subject so much. I don’t study it all — it’s probably my fault, but I simply can never get down to it. My other subjects are ok. I get A’s in everything except Algebra. I never seem to get an A in that, but I do manage somehow to get a B every month." (Clara’s Diary, 1933)
"I don’t know what happened to me but I messed up the Latin exam. Otherwise I did fairly well. My average for four years was 89 and I’m 19th in the class." (Clara’s Diary, June, 1934; note that this is 19 of 189 students)
We know that Clara struggled to get good grades in college and was not satisfied with less than a "1," ("A" in today’s rubric). Yet she complains of having difficulty obtaining 1's, and having to settle for many 2's ("B’s"). According to friends of Elsie’s to whom we spoke, Clara’s family placed much hope in her abilities and expected substantial accomplishments. Did expectations or experiences at home set the stage for attempts by Clara to win their admiration and praise, or to ward off or compensate for fears that she would otherwise not be accepted by them through her accomplishments?
Clara’s self-report of years of exhaustion generated by college, graduate school, and work in NYC, suggest that she was worn down by the weight of these expectations. She was very critical of herself when she failed at something, whether it was failing cheerleading tryouts in high-school or getting a "2" in a college course. The consequences of her drive were apparent:
"Make believe I wasn’t tired. In fact, I was so tired when I stayed home the 22nd that I said I didn’t want to do anything but sleep and read and rest. About two months ago I went on a diet that absolutely ruined my stomach. Every once in a while I get a terrible pain. I have been sick a lot this fall. A cold, an upset stomach, and on Christmas, a sore throat. " (Clara’s Diary, end of 1933).
The adult Clara, age 29, reflects on this unremitting drive in a letter to Elsie:
‘Miami is a good cure-all. At last, at the ripe age of 29½, I’m learning how to relax and enjoy myself even tho’ I’m still not a social butterfly... Most of my life has been lived at too high a speed for comfort." (Letter to Elsie, 3/6/47)
and in the introduction of what appears to be her novel:
"The eagerness and impatience of former years were gone forever, but the questing spirit had not died. It was true that her perspective and values had changed and that she no longer pushed herself with a relentless drive that gave her no peace. The difference, she realized, now, was subtle, for the aims and ambitions of former years had simply solidified into an unshakeable purpose that gave her personality and character its inimitable flavor and silently pointed out the way ahead.
‘The cessation of a fever-driven life did not mean a cessation of enjoyment and participation in the simpler joys of existing. The ever-changing formations of clouds, the sun against the blue-green sea, the moon and stars at night, the stillness of early morning— all these and many more held a beauty that still took her breath away as they once had. It only seemed to her, now, that she could take these splendors into her mind and heart with a freedom and appreciation that gave her life an unexpected, continuous richness. (p. 2 of novel pages)
Yet, Clara still seemed desirous of proving her worth to her family and the world. From Miami, she talks frequently of "regaining her confidence," "coming into her own," and "finding her power." She states:
"You will be gratified to know that these days I have them eating out of my hands. At last, my dear, I have come into my own. I just sail through all my work with 100% efficiency.... It’s a wonderful feeling, let me tell you, to really feel my power and to know that any confidence I feel is well-founded." (Letter to Elsie, 11/19/46)
She wants to prove to family that "Little Clara" will make her mark, whether through finding a wildly wealthy marriage or writing a wildly successful novel:
"How many times must I tell her [Johanna] that little Clara is gong to marry the wealthiest man she can lay her hands on — and she’d better not snicker. I’m fairly positive It Can Happen Here!" (Letter to Elsie, 1/[22]/47)
"Tell Papa that he will get the surprise of his life one of these days when little Clara makes a deal with the publishers. And I mean, make a deal." (Letter to Elsie, 2/3/47)
Clara’s depression might have resulted in part from the realization that attempts at such idealization by herself or others was ultimately unsatisfying and detrimental to her well being and sense of self. These expectations may have prevented her from connecting with richly-layered parts of herself that ran counter to being an extension of her own or her family’s pride. She seemed engaged in the task of trying to establish a sense of self she could sustain, that would fulfill her emotional needs, and of which she could be proud. Still, she continued to use the defenses that had brought her through many prior depressed states.
Accustomed to her depressions, Clara engages in considerable self-regulation of emotion throughout her recorded life. We see a great deal of it in high-school, both in her diary reflections and in her frenzied activities and achievements. We also see it at two distinct times in Florida, both when she first arrives and is experiencing the joy of ascent from the depth of her depression and upon return there after her brief relapse in January. She seems to make abundant use of the defense mechanisms of anticipation (planning) and fantasy, as she plans her earnings and her novel, etc. Some seems to be doing both realistic planning and perhaps some unrealistic (it is hard to know). She also makes a couple of expensive clothes purchases (she loves nice clothes) and justifies these in letters home (with the desired effect -- both Johanna and Elsie approve). Either way, her activities and planning seem to buttress her mood at least for a time, and she engages in industrious work and makes progress on her novel (she apparently reported to Elsie in a telephone conversation that it was 3/4 written). During this period she seems confident that her book will be a success:
"I want to stay here until I finish my book... I’m tentatively calling the book, ‘The Turbid Ebb and Flow’ (from Dover Beach by Arnold) altho I may change it to the heroine’s name. I’m gong to enter it in the Doubleday Doran Prize Award ($20,000) contest, so that I will avoid all hard feelings as far as S & S [Simon & Schuster] is concerned. In the event the book really sells well, I know they would be hurt over the fact that I didn’t give it to them... By the way, do you think that I ought to use a pseudonym... or shall I use my name? My only reason for wanting a pen name is that the book will be autobiographical to a certain extent, and I don’t want a lot of bastards reading a lot more in it than I will put there. What do you think?" (Letter to Elsie, 1/29/47)
And with her Travel Business venture:
"I’m enjoying this Travel business very much and I do hope I can clean up about $60 to $100 a week. That will put me on Easy Street financially and I can begin thinking about buying clothes for Easter." (Letter to Elsie, 1/29/47)
"Business is really booming... Altogether it’s some business and I can see the profits rolling in. Brother and how I need that cash for all my obligations." (Letter to Elsie, 1/30?/47)
"Every day I’m beginning to see more and more possibilities in this business and if all goes well, it should really become Big Business, within a few months... Really, I’m terrific in this business, even if I do say so myself. I have the customer eating out of my hand within 3 minutes... I’m starting today to contact the bell captains in hotels and in no time at all we should be swamped with orders.... I’m determined to do just that and feel fairly confident that I shall.... In a month, I should be sitting pretty financially. The first thing I want to do is pay back the money I owe home.... If I really clean up over $100 a week (and I should do better because commissions are good), I’ll get that car that Johanna has been hankering for so long. I’ll buy it in N.J., since I understand cars in Florida are hard to get. You might inquire generally about how good the chances are for a new one and the price. It’ll be Either a Pontiac, Chevrolet, or whatever ideas you may have on the subject..." (Letter to Elsie, 1/31/47).
With the benefit of hindsight, we can detect a hint of grandiosity in Clara’s avid planning. (Indeed, her childhood neighbor and friend describes her as having had a grandiose streak.) When she first is writing home, the reader is excited for her find and filled with the same promise and hope she is. As time goes on, the reader begins to sense an ungroundedness and later to feel her enveloping depression. Aware of the imminent tragedy, the reader is aware that she has been, apparently, building sand castles that will be swept away by the tides. From late March on, we see a gradual flattening of her affect and increasing realism and pragmatism in her assessment of her financial affairs.
Need for Self-Assurance/ Self-Justification
Too often, Clara seemed to lack empathy for herself, assuming a harshly critical self-stance and trying to convince herself and others that everything was alright and that the approved-of self she presented to the world reflected the full essence of her being. Hence, her statement in her final letter home that "only a jackass" such as herself could experience such a depression. At times, she blocked awareness of her own emotions and learned to put up a facade to avoid showing her true feelings. When they emerged with full force in early adulthood, she became paralyzed by depression. Perhaps she could no longer deny her authentic self. As already noted, depression can serve as a signal to the self that one has lost touch with important aspects of the self (Miller, 1981; Moore, 1992). Nevertheless, Clara was still terrified of and haunted by the depth of her depression and possibly the rejection and potential abandonment she feared from others if they knew her darker side. Hence, she buckled under pressure from others, especially family, and herself to "get back on track" and "pull herself together."
In her letters home, she tries to convince the family that there is nothing to worry about. Phrases that reappear in her letters are: "I assure you...", "You can be certain", "make no mistake, Little Clara will...." One gets the sense that she is trying as desperately to convince herself as she is them that she is in control and feels empowered. She seemed adept at making herself into what others wanted or expected her to be, perhaps in order to avoid risking rejection if they knew the more authentic aspects of her inner life. One sees in her writings a youthful dualism in her desire to present a one-sidedly positive picture of her mental health (as seen in quotes above) and to be in complete control of her emotions. Had she weathered the storm of the next decade or two, she might ultimately have been able to develop a more integrated ego structure that allowed for mutual representations of the positive and the previously disowned aspects of self and other, as well as an acceptance of the fact that complete control and feelings of well-being are unrealistic and perhaps counter-productive to mental health (Labouvie-Vief, 1990; Pascual-Leone, 1990; Vaillant, 1994). Unfortunately, she failed to live up to this promise to herself (to develop an abiding relationship with her inner self) and did not weather this difficult developmental milestone.
Many of Clara’s letters read like confessionals, replaying her actions and decisions as to assure herself and gain assurance from the reader that she chose the correct course of action. For example, this was evident in a series of letters regarding the breakdown and subsequent fallout of her relationship with her Florida companion and roommate, E. Early on, E. penny-pinches (for some good reasons); Clara doesn’t... Still, Clara feels compelled to justify her own financial choices, even itemizing what she’s bought, including the price of each item and $25 she borrowed from petty cash at work to pay for necessities. Clara apparently internalizes the constant criticism she receives from E. until she explodes and moves out of the K. household. Clara describes in exacting detail the scene that ultimately enraged her, prompting her to abruptly move out and cut ties with E. (but only after writing E. a condemning letter explaining her own feelings and actions). Clara encloses a copy of the letter to Elsie. This experience with E. left Clara doubting her own sense of self and well-being. In discussing her new roommate, M., Clara states:
"We’re still hitting it off very well, which convinces me more and more that E. was a downright bitch. For a while I almost began thinking I was hard to live with." (Letter to Elsie, 2/24/47)
Unfortunately, and contrary to her protestation, Clara did question herself greatly. Later, she attributes her January relapse to her conflict with E. In this letter, she also reveals an inner compulsion to mend ties with E., if even somewhat:
"My better nature finally got the better of me and I called E..... I figured I ought to forget my rancour. We’re going to have dinner together some night this week... I have no intention of regaling her with very much information, but then I did know that I should try to cover [up] the breach even though she was responsible for my slight relapse after Christmas" (Letter to Elsie, 3/25/47)
Clara’s need for justifying her feelings, actions, and self to others is evident as early as 9th grade, when she seems to have to justify feelings she is less than proud of by appeals that others would undoubtedly feel the same way. She seems to feel a deep sense of shame about herself and her human vulnerabilities. This feeling never leaves her entirely.
Splitting and Devaluation as Defenses
Additional evidence to suggest fragility of Clara’s self system comes from her possible reactions to intimacy, rejection, loss, and shame. She uses a variety of defense mechanisms, such as devaluation, splitting, rationalization. Devaluation and splitting are constant themes running throughout her high-school diary in her comments about both girlfriends and boyfriends:
"Fritz and Irene are awfully nice. They’re not the type that would be sweet and two-faced. They’re ... companionable." (9/29/30)
"Fritz gives me a pain now." (1/16/31)
"I could have gone to the dance, too, but not to make an impression on a boy as Fritz did." (10/9/30).
"Fran and I simply get on fine. She’s sweet" (12/10/30)
"Fran and I hang around as if we were made together. Funny I call it. (12/15/30)
"Fritz and I get along best. Fran’s a big pain and a big ass — And Irene is a baby not to be trusted." (2/17/31)
"Fritzie and her adorable Scott get on my nerves. I could choke him — and her too." (5/8/31)
"Gee— I certainly am glad I don’t go with that Fran creature. She goes with Arlene K.--" (5/14/31)
These are not isolated comments. They appear and reappear throughout her diary and later writings. She seems to harbor negative feelings in the majority of her relationships and experiences private anger toward and devaluation of friends. She seems to have difficulty simply letting herself go and enjoying her friendships, without judgment and questioning them. This may be a defense against her own feelings of being off-balance in relationships with others.
This process is evident in her last year of life, as well. Self-other boundaries seem fluid, fragile, and vulnerable to imposition by others (see also Kramer & Bowling, 1999). As noted above, when Clara’s Florida roommate, E., intrusively attacks Clara’s character, Clara is at a loss to resist this inquisition of her personality and apparently feels the need to defend herself in a letter to Elsie and later, E. She seems torn between rage at E. and fear that E. might be correct. Her response on an intrapsychic level is to split----to condemn the roommate as acting out of envy and to justify herself. Unable to protect herself easily from such attacks in order to maintain psychological equilibrium, she protects herself by moving out of the room they share, which also means leaving the home of their landlords/hosts, to whom she has become very close and who do not want her to leave. The attribution of the verbal attack to envy could be consistent with her striving to justify herself via accomplishments and aggrandizement, which might both engender and lead her to be preoccupied with, envy in other people, perhaps via projective identification.
Once out of the house, though, she assails both E. and the landlords, The K.’s, in her letters home, again using splitting. Before her showdown with E., she is somewhat upbeat: "E. and I, of course, get along very well but at times she’s extremely difficult, which I knew. I’m not letting anything bother me & what I’m writing to you now is just to give you a general sense of what I put up with." (Letter to Elsie, 11/23/46). Later, she describes E. as "that god-damn bitch...." (Letter to Elsie, 12/17/46). Regarding the landlords, before the move, she is "one of the K. family now" (Letter to Father, 11/16/46) and she describes in various letters to Elsie how much fun they have at the K. residence, how well they all get along, and how fond of her the K.’s are. After the blowup with E. and the move out, however:
"...it’s also a relief to be away from the K.’s and I don’t intend to move back even if I can. They’re very nice and congenial... I would just as soon live where I didn’t constantly feel obligated. And besides, O. [O.K., her former Landlady] is having her menopause and she’s as cranky as all hell. And if I was to hear family quibbling all I have to do is stay at 1720 [The Kangler Residence] for two days and I’ll get my ration for 6 months."
"Brother, am I glad I moved away from the K.’s. Millie said to me last night that I was looking much better; and I can believe it, too. That place really got me down subconsciously." (Letter to Elsie, 1/2/47)
"O. is the type I don’t go for — a real typical Souther, Georgia bitch... Not that I have anything in particular against the K.’s." (Letter to Elsie, 3/25/47)
The praises she previously extolled on them and the feelings of closeness and warmth fade into the background as she breathes a sigh of relief that she is no longer in their destructive sphere. It’s as if she holds her breath while in relationship with them, trying to maintain a sense of equilibrium by not reflecting on negative thoughts. When no longer in their presence, a flood of negative impressions flows forth. Clara had yet to heal the splits in her internalized representations of self and others and, sadly, it seems never would.
Sexuality, Dating, and Intimate Relationships
One sees similar representations and defenses in Clara’s heterosexual relationships. While the young Clara acknowledges passion and enjoys necking, she also expresses worry, concern, and shame over her passion. She experiences a deep infatuation with one particular boy, B.S., throughout high school, apparently not fully reciprocated though they did share some kind of sexual and emotional relationship. An excerpt from Clara’s diary written in September of 1932 shows that she is grappling greatly with her feelings for B. Moreover, her diary reveals hints of an "indiscretion." It is never certain whether the indiscretion was sexual and, if it was, the degree of sexuality involved. It is also possible that her submission was to her emotions, not erotic longings per se. Nevertheless, the relationship with B. was injurious to her sense of self. At times, she expressed regret for having those feelings, and early on wants revenge for her narcissistic injury:
"I haven’t seen B. in ages, and I rather miss him, some way or other. I really had a ‘case’ on him and I’m afraid it went home. I’m sure this was never the case with him but any way, darling B., I must have my revenge. If I never do anything in the next two years, I’m certainly going to do this or at least try. His heart simply has to be broken. After all, mine almost was. So he must pay too. I’m resorting to the old custom of the Babylonians or somebody in ancient times. "An Eye for an Eye" etc. — But in this case it’s a heart for a heart. He’ll come back to me soon, for I imagine he never leaves them entirely flat. He’s a nice kid but even nice people have to pay. (Clara’s diary, 1932)
She spends the summer after 10th grade reliving her pain over this relationship.
‘After school was out, I stayed home until August. I went swimming a couple of times with Ruth, and few times I went out someplace, but most of the time I was at home, trying to forget, and trying much harder to mend an almost pitiable mess that is my heart. I really wasn’t terribly up. In August I went to New York, and I didn’t come home until September 7th. I stayed with Elsie at Johanna’s, but most of the time I was up at Teta’s, of course. Went to lots of places, saw Margaret, went to movies and all that sort of thing. But anyway, the whole dope is that Elsie went to a fortune Teller’s and she told her that I’d better watch out or _____ ____ you can guess what. I got to thinking about lots of things while I was there, and I seemed to grow up more & — after praying and resolving that I might become a finer girl, I could forget B. in the face of this bigger problem, but still he was there— underneath. He certainly seems to have gotten in me for a while. But I can say that I felt a great peace there — a peace that I never felt before, and then I knew I was growing up [sic] that I could learn to forget, that I could learn not to mind about things. Of course, this was all very comforting while I was there, but I seemed to have guessed everything would come back in a flood of memory, when I got back. And so it did. But I finally came to the conclusion that I couldn’t possibly forget until it was all over, until it really was as dead as ashes and not until then. And altho I prayed the day might come soon, I know that I’m not strong enough yet, but I’m still hoping that it’ll come very soon, so I won’t be hurt too much. But by and by, my will power will get the better of that passion, and then I’ll be alright. I know I’ll be harder then, but I’d rather be that anyday than just trying to forget. You may wonder why I’m always mentioning this, but it’s got hold of me so, it’s teaching me so much that I can’t put it aside. But I can only look forward to the day when I can think of him without any bitterness and without any love or remorse, because then I will have now, and I’ll be able to think of him as a good friend when I was young and foolish." (Clara’s diary, September, 1932)
And in one of her final diary entries from high-school, Clara reflects on both her memories of her first love:
"Now, he doesn’t mean a thing to me. ‘That dream of love is over like everything else in life is over, like happiness and sorrow, like joy and grief.’ That explains exactly what I mean. Still, I can never thank him enough for all he taught me. I’ll never see him now but I don’t think I’ll ever forget him. He’ll always be a sweet memory connected with a part of my life — a part of my foolishness. I’ll probably never think of him because I really don’t care for him or anything like that awakening has come and passed." (Diary entry, July, 1934).
When Clara, often, writes of her having gotten over her feelings for B., it often seems to ring untrue, as though "the lady doth protest too much." She seems to be actively engaged in the attempt to ward off the painful feelings of disappointment, loss, and rejection with denial and on occasion devaluation. Indeed, Clara vacillates between giving in to her passionate feelings and turning them off completely:
"Mr. Todd & Mr. Tolles had invited us over for dinner for Sunday night... I called my darling B. and he said he’d go. Was I ever thrilled when I heard him over the phone. His voice is so nice and strong. Oh I love him, diary. The next day, (Sat.) he came up to school while I was there so I could tell him more about the dinner. He [was] awfully nice. I wanted to keep on kissing him forever and ever — It had been so long since I had. At 3:30 we went home. I just missed the love so, since it was cold, we walked down town. We sat in Gillespie’s for a long time. I finally got home about 5:30.... We dressed up for dinner. Informal: I wore a hyacinth blue dress. It’s cute. B. looked darling — derby and all. Honestly, he’s smooth... We had an awfully nice time... B. stayed for a while before he went home, and I was thrilled, I suppose. That was Dec. 10 — an unforgettable day. Afterwards, curiously, I never thought of him at all, and I seemed to have entirely forgot him. That’s a relief in a way although I suppose as soon as I see him again I’ll fall for him all over." (Diary entry, 1933)
In addition to the dissociation evident in the above entry, Clara attempts to ward off feelings for Billy by going out with other boys, but she seems unable to form a genuine connection with any and usually ends up devaluing them as well. The rare connection seems fueled more by the boy’s unavailability than genuine opportunity for intimacy (e.g., diary entry, 1933). Like with Billy, she seems to regret giving in to her passion, as in the following reaction after dating one boy for several weeks over the summer:
"Of course there are times when I feel like Necking but those times are rare. I can’t understand these Moods. They are the only time I really give in to any passion or desire of the senses. After a few weeks he got on my nerves and I just couldn’t see him any more. We went to a few movies together, also swimming and a few parties. Of course they helped to pass the time away, but I actually felt that the time spent was a waste. In fact, at the end of the summer, I didn’t even want to think of it again. I really feel terribly blue." (Clara’s diary entry, 1933)
Sustained disinterest in available men and interest in unavailable men seems to follow Clara into adulthood, taking the form of her relationship with J., the married man. Yet, while in Florida, Clara makes frequent references to wanting to marry, in particular, a rich man. She describes a visit to a doctor for a cold, in which she later reports to Elsie, "He [the doctor] also thinks I should get married and have children, which I told him I would do very shortly." However, Clara does not marry, nor does she seem to have resolved her issues with intimacy by the time of her death. The comfortableness and pleasure she apparently obtained in sexuality, as described in the following passage, eluded her in the context of an intimate, emotional bond:
"Affect goes a long way in marriage and the smart woman is never cold when it comes to sex— My own feeling on that subject is that most women are very passionate and enjoy sex almost more than a man does. But few women will admit this. I’ve only met ½ dozen or so who are honest enough about it to say so. When you stop to realize how atavistic a drive sex is, you lose your unnatural inhibitions about it which have been built up over a period of years. I’m very far from endorsing Philip Wylie’s views on free love, but I do believe that mature people who understand their emotions no longer fear as natural an impulse as the sex drive — and in the long run, it is almost as natural as eating 3 times a day and sleeping and exercising, etc., etc. You will understand my views very much better after you are married and you read my book." (Letter to Elsie, 1/[22]/47)
At times, she feels her sexual power and is confident, as in the following passage from a letter to Elsie:
"Fred Schneider thinks I could get any guy I wanted to, and the funny thing is that he’s right. Down here most of the guys want to be caught and, as I’ve written before, the majority think I’m pretty sharp— meaning right up to the minute. It must be a combination of my education, New York experience, general flippancy and, to a certain extent, my appearance." (Letter to Elsie, 3/3/47)
However, in the same letter, she expresses some reservations about dating and men:
"Of course, as I’ve written previously, I still take it very easy socially mostly because I have things to Do which require clear thinking, and also because I can’t be bothered wasting my time on a lot of insignificant men. This town really has wealth and if and when I decide to take someone seriously, he’s gonna have to have money." (Letter to Elsie, 3/3/47)
She mentions that she is frequently propositioned but is certain to tell her would-be suitors that she is "sleeping alone." She also distinguishes frequently between "wolves" and "non-wolves."
"Speaking of Miami in general terms,... This is certainly a town of Light Loves and Mad Infatuations, where women are after men and the men are after the women in a never-ending cycle of hot pursuit... I’ve never in my entire life met so many people en masse who concentrate so much of their time and energy on love making as I have down here. That’s all they talk about. While I have never believed in repressions of any kind, I must admit the emphasis on sexual freedom — or promiscuity — down here is a little too much for me... However, none of this bothers me greatly. I simply restrict my sexual activities, and when I go out, I make it clear that I intend to sleep alone, not with any companion of the evening... I’m so used to propositions I sing off my little song of "Hands-off" without a trace of anger or annoyance." (Letter to Elsie, 3/6/47)
Presumably, one factor in her breakdown of the year before was an unhappy love affair, though we do not know how it ended or how much it was the loss, per se, or the destructive aspects of the relationship, itself, that contributed to the breakdown. She does refer to the relationship as having been very destructive to her self-esteem. In the scene from the novel, her heroine feels herself to be losing her "personality" in the suffocating neediness of her lover:
‘Panic and a desire to escape — feelings, it seemed to Becky, which were almost habitual with her nowadays whenever she was with Tom --swept over her as she neared him. He suffocated the individuality and spontaneity of her personality, she felt, and in her mind’s eye he sometimes assumed the proportions of a monster, with long arms stretched out to suck her in and annihilate her." (Novel pages)
Clara describes her own experiences as the hands of J. as similarly destructive of her personality. In the scene from the novel, the heroine goes through the motions of love and lovemaking, fashioning herself to the lover’s needs. Beneath the surface, however, she feels nothing. According to more than one source close to Clara or Elsie, Clara’s suicide was, at least in part, the result of yet another unrequited love, although it is not known if this is true, as contradictory accounts of the reason for her suicide exist among those who knew her or her sister.
Sources of Clara’s Intrapsychic Difficulties
Family Influence/Early Environmental Influences
Family Climate. Most of the references to the family environment suggest that it is not a place of much comfort or joy to Clara. Weekends are a burden to Clara. It seems she finds her housekeeping chores onerous, to say the least, but with the exception of occasional outings with Elsie, doesn’t seem to find much joy there. Holidays are usually a burden. She finds visits from her Aunt and Uncle awful. When reading Clara and Elsie’s adult letters one gets the sense that there is a general feeling of depressed mood in the household. One wonders if Alois Kangler has a drinking problem. For example, Clara states in a letter to him that she hopes he’s not "tipping the bottle too much." (Letter to father, 11/16/46). Elsie gives the following description of a rare episode involving her father:
"Papa made a few feeble attempts at painting the garage yesterday and actually succeeded in getting one side done — the side you started when we were dong the storm windows. No doubt we will have to wait for another nice Saturday and they are becoming mighty rare before he will decide to finish the other side. From the amount of moaning and groaning that accompanied these feeble attempts one would think that he was painting a battleship, and then, he must have worn out his shoes running in and out for a glass of beer." (Letter from Elsie to Clara, 11/17/46)
During Clara’s teen years, she worried greatly about financial matters and, according to her diary, her father was often out of work. Consequently, Clara endures the economic Depression with feelings of anxiety and deprivation. Her worries and general conflicts created by financial difficulties are evident in the following quotes:
"Gee, dad got a position, but I won’t build dream castles like I did before and then have them shattered. No indeed." (Clara’s Diary, 8/25/30)
"It’s always the same at home now: Mama & Elsie are the only ones working — and we’re not any too well fitted with [sic] with the money. I sometimes wonder if it ever will be any better. It’s certainly about true. It’s terrible when you can’t have what you want, believe me. I only hope that someday soon, we’ll be able to have more than we have today. Here’s hoping!" (Clara’s Diary, 1932)
"So that ended my Junior Year! ... We’re as poor as ever. Papa works very little and Mamma [sic] isn’t making much. It’s always been that way. Cynie asked me to spend 2 weeks down the shore at Lavallette — the other kids went but I had to stay at home. After a vile 4th of July I had to go to work. Boy, was I ever crazy about that! ... I felt jealous of the other kids having a good time down the shore... Of course the money came in handy. Papa started to work soon after I did and Mother stayed at home — she’s tired, too!" (Clara’s Diary, 1933)
Clara’s father is employed at the time she is in Florida and appears to be the most financially solvent member of the family by that time. But as a teen, during the Great Depression, Clara expresses a sense of shame about her living environment and a sense of deprivation, although there is no evidence of the family going without essentials. Clara is aware of the difference between her needs and wants, on the one hand, and what her family can afford, on the other, and a certain disparity between her financial condition and those of some of her classmates.
"I could have gone to the football game, but the question is how to get the money to go. And thats [sic] what I can’t get." (Clara’s Diary, 10/17/30)
"Xmas Eve isn’t much to me — when you cry yourself to sleep after working all day — Gratitude — None XMAS Eve./ Mr. Zelatel certainly did a goodly act when he brought that 5 pound box of candy for XMAS. Otherwise we wouldn’t have any" (Clara’s Diary, 12/24/30-12/25/30)
"The Junior Prom is the 30.t.h but I can’t [sic] go because I haven’t a decent dress. (Clara’s Diary, 1932)
Maternal Expectations. Close friends of Elsie’s (Clara’s sister) in her later life reported to us that, according to Elsie, their mother, Johanna, was a cold and somewhat rejecting mother who had little patience for children. Apparently, she was a dominant personality in the household and did not appreciate willfulness in children. According to them, Clara was a very willful child who was willing to suffer the consequences of her behavior. We can speculate that she must have engaged in frequent conflicts of will with her mother. Drawing from an Eriksonian framework (Erikson, 1963), this might set the stage for a deep sense of shame in Clara’s personality. As discussed above, she works feverishly to justify and explain herself in her letters and interactions with others, as revealed through her letters. She seems to struggle with formulating and solidifying a stable sense of self that does not ride precipitously on the tumultuous waves of interpersonal disruptions and inner doubts--to develop what Winnicott (1960) describes as continuity of being.. An object-relational and self-psychological framework (e.g., Winnicott, 1960; 1965; Miller, 1981) would lead us to speculate about the narcissistic injury that may have resulted from a conflicted relationship with her mother (and possible problems with her father, as noted above), along with the family pressures to fulfil her intellectual promise as well as to "pull herself together" and get back on track in the wake of her breakdown. Loss plays a important role in her psychological makeup, as evident throughout this paper (this issue will also be discussed further below). An ego psychological model such as Erikson’s theory, also provides a useful explanation of some of Clara’s dynamics, in light of what little we know about her family relationships. She seems to possess a strong will that vacillates with a distressing sense of shame; she tenaciously clings to hope for many years until she is, apparently devoid of it. She is capable of industriousness and initiative, though the grasp on initiative easily eludes her when depressed. She never seems to succeed in forming an abiding identity or sustaining intimate, romantic connection. Issues pertaining to will, shame, pride identity---all aspects of the self-system, appear to be the most vulnerable to insults from life.
In her review of The Citadel, she describes a number of her own inner conflicts:
"The theme is struggle and conflict in the life of Dr. Andrew Manson — the struggle of a doctor to maintain an abiding faith in himself, and in his ability to treat the men and women who entrusted their lives to him ... The dilemma in which Dr. Manson found himself was undeniably acute. Should he sacrifice the innermost core of his spiritual existence — the citadel for which he had been struggling all his life--to the ease and luxury which money brings to successful men...he was still capable of the greatest humbleness and repentance, and in a moment of heartbreaking disillusionment, he could acknowledge the peace and solace which only the quiet beauty of a church could give him, even though he had never been a religious adherent...(Book review written by Clara, 1934-1938)
Despite her considerable and impressive struggles to do so, Clara never succeeded in developing an abiding faith in herself, to the point where it felt better to annihilate herself altogether.
Loss
We know that the Kangler family experienced a traumatic loss in Clara’s early childhood, with the death of her brother (we believe Clara was about 7 at the time). We know little of the circumstances of his death, whether Clara or Elsie might have been present with him when he died, whether they witnessed his own horror and torment as he struggled for life in the bottom of that well, and/or what they were told about the death and how the parents dealt with it, let alone how they helped their daughters through its aftermath. Clara’s feelings about the death do not seem to be adequately resolved, though. In an 8th-graded diary entry where Clara notes the death and subsequent funeral of a friend’s baby brother, her grammar begins to break down in the following entry and she shows evidence of isolation of affect or dissociation in her response to the funeral: "I went to Eddy’s funeral. It was very nice." (Diary entry, February 20, 1930). From what is known of the times and of her family, it seems quite plausible that the family had not dealt fully with their grief. Whether Clara or Elsie may have felt in any way responsible for their brother’s death, guilty at being the surviving siblings, or protective of their parents and each other, is unknown. Even so, the loss must have been very painful to the entire family and engendered a sense of vulnerability and awareness of life’s transience in Clara at an early age, if on an unconscious level. The only reference to the death was indirect. In her diary, she cites a trip the family made to the graveyard in Duryea.
"Today, we went to Pennsylvania and when I saw that place, some thing tells me that we’ll never see that place again. That lonely graveyard by the railroad [sic] it gives me a chill and a heartache." (Diary entry, 9.28/30)
She also describes a subsequent visit to Duryea in 12th Grade, where the family made the "usual rounds", after which they all got drunk.
"We went to Pennsylvania for Labor Day... Sunday a.m. we left for dear old Duryea. As usual, we made the rounds of all the places....Monday was a honey though. We all almost got stewed & did we ever take the old liquor, boy!! However, we arrived home very fortunately quite late." (Diary entry, 1933).
There is evidence of sublimation and reparative work in Clara’s creative writing. In high school, she writes a fictitious autobiography of a young female in early 18th-century Quebec, in which the heroine/narrator has befriended a younger boy for her playmate. The heroine later becomes the protective mother of four young boys. Still, Clara seems to have difficulty dealing with loss.
In other instances, Clara defends against hurt and loss with anger, contempt, attempts at grandiosity, fantasy, and attention to clothing and appearance, as well as anticipation and planning for the future. After these defenses break down, she is left depressed.
Unusual Perceptiveness, Intelligence, and Depth of Thinking and Feeling
Whatever life circumstances imbued Clara’s life, they were filtered through her own uniquely endowed and formulated qualities. It is clear from Clara’s writing that she was endowed with intelligence, wit, and unusual sensitivity to the subtleties of human nature. While this was an advantage to her in many ways, it also proved a handicap and, in the end, she was not able to "spin straw into gold," as Vaillant (1993) described the process of sublimation (and other mature defense mechanisms). While Clara was attempting to do so in her many endeavors and might well have succeeded if her novel had reached its fruition, we know that this is not what happened. In the end, the ebbs and tides of her life got the best of her and claimed her existence.
Clara shows a tremendous depth in thinking, feeling, and insight. Even as a young teen, she feels herself to be older in spirit than her age would show. This is seen in the following quotes:
"I’m still a little girl in my teens to most people but I really do feel older in spirit — to myself." (Clara’s Diary, 4/13/31)
"I had to stay home today like a Baby — But if anyone knew how I feel today, they couldn’t possibly call me Baby." (Clara’s Diary, 3/24/30)
"I’m developing a very thick veneer between myself & my true feelings. I’m really frightfully young to do such a thing, but I have grown up awfully early, & it’s probably a natural reaction." (Clara’s Diary, Spring, 1932)
"I hate to count the years ahead. It gives me sort of a sinister feeling. I really hate the idea of becoming old — but every day adds something more to one’s knowledge. I resent that though sometimes, because knowledge often hurts a [person]. Yet it’s better to know." (1/1/32)
She is eloquent in her depictions of the undercurrents of life:
"And life’s sweet waves of duties came over your sadness — never leaving you out always claiming you." (Diary entry, 4/24/31)
"And all I’ve left is a lot of memories that keep forever coming before me. I really think that memories are a cheap receipt for the occasion itself, but after all, I suppose, one does have to remember and some of them aren’t so unpleasant." (Diary entry, 1932)
"Every once in a while you lose your sense of direction in this city of lost souls and broken lives, and even if you end up with no illusions at all, it puts a little iron in your soul." (Letter to Elsie, 6/8/47)
Clara’s depth of insight is apparent in her book reviews. In her review of The Turning Wheels, she states:
"In one passage, Tante Anna soliloquizes about the inevitability of human event and how one thing leads to another in one continuous, unerring procession of cause and effect. Her statement is uncannily true and applicable to the book itself, for in it events follow one after the other with startling inevitability, leading to a climax that is both fitting and consistent with the tone of the entire book. A heavy sense of tragedy pervades the story... There is a strong emphasis on emotions: they, in keeping with the tone of the book as a whole, are always violent, and sweeping, somehow near to madness in their daring and intensity, and yet always real and human... They are living people who rouse pity and hatred, who, in their individual ways, seek the peace and restfulness that they long for, who accept life with courage and an admirable fearlessness and resignation." (Book review)
The latter quote sums Clara’s life and struggles quite well. She was an intensely emotional and intellectually vibrant person who was aware of the tides of life’s unending waves. She aroused engagement and attachment in the readers of her writings, as her openness, honesty, and strong emotionality, along with her creativity and intellectual insights. She also aroused anger and frustration, both at her cynical, sometimes prejudicial views about people, her self-delusions, and about her apparent inability to see when she was being unrealistic and careless. Throughout, though, a living, breathing sensitive young woman fills the pages and one cannot help feeling a strong attachment to Clara Kangler and wanting to tell her story.
References furnished upon request.