A Beautiful Mind Part 10

CHAPTER 34

The Emperor of Antarctica

There is a kindling. A slow fire burning.

-JOSEPH B BRENNER, psychiatrist, Cambridge, Ma.s.sachusetts, 1997

SOMEONE WAS CALLING, "It's time to play charades. It's time to play charades." "It's time to play charades. It's time to play charades."1 A crowd of costumed guests filled the entire ground floor of the Mosers' small frame house in Needham. Outside, snow had been falling for hours. Inside, the atmosphere was thick with smoke, liquor, jazz. Everyone was talking, laughing a little louder than usual, heads close together, waving cigarettes, posing for the camera, still a bit self-conscious but already loosening up in the carnival-like atmosphere. The Mosers were dressed as pirate and Indian squaw. Karin Tate, Artin's musician daughter, was dressed as a black cat. Her husband, John, the algebraist, came as the Vector s.p.a.ce Man, wearing a metal cap with bobbing antennae and arrows all over his chest. Gian-Carlo Rota looked as elegant as ever in his monk's tunic, his dark-haired wife, Teresa, das.h.i.+ng in her Spanish bolero and slim black pants. A crowd of costumed guests filled the entire ground floor of the Mosers' small frame house in Needham. Outside, snow had been falling for hours. Inside, the atmosphere was thick with smoke, liquor, jazz. Everyone was talking, laughing a little louder than usual, heads close together, waving cigarettes, posing for the camera, still a bit self-conscious but already loosening up in the carnival-like atmosphere. The Mosers were dressed as pirate and Indian squaw. Karin Tate, Artin's musician daughter, was dressed as a black cat. Her husband, John, the algebraist, came as the Vector s.p.a.ce Man, wearing a metal cap with bobbing antennae and arrows all over his chest. Gian-Carlo Rota looked as elegant as ever in his monk's tunic, his dark-haired wife, Teresa, das.h.i.+ng in her Spanish bolero and slim black pants.

Richy Emery, the Mosers' son, watched through the dining-room window as a big dark car pulled into the driveway and a virtually naked man got out. There was a pounding on the kitchen door and Richy ran to open it. As Nash came striding into the room, followed by Alicia, heads turned, eyebrows shot up, and conversation suddenly quieted. Alicia was laughing excitedly and Nash wore a smirky smile as they surveyed the astonished guests. He was barefoot and entirely naked except for a diaper and a sash, which was draped across his powerful chest, that had the numerals 1959 1959 written on it. Having stolen the show, Nash grinned and bowed, waved a baby bottle full of milk at the a.s.sembled company, which was laughing loudly at this point - and then sauntered into the living room to join in the game of charades. written on it. Having stolen the show, Nash grinned and bowed, waved a baby bottle full of milk at the a.s.sembled company, which was laughing loudly at this point - and then sauntered into the living room to join in the game of charades.

Jurgen and Gertrude were just dividing the guests into two teams. Nash was on one team, Richy on the other. When it was Richy's turn, Nash walked over to him and whispered in his ear the name of the character that he was supposed to act out. Richy was delighted. He adored Nash, who was much younger and more animated than most of Jurgen's math friends. Richy's pantomime initially mystified everyone. Finally a woman, the best player in the room, read his eleven-year-old mind: mind: The Critique of Pure Rason! The Critique of Pure Rason! Richy looked over at Nash, who shrugged his shoulders and gave him a big grin. Richy looked over at Nash, who shrugged his shoulders and gave him a big grin.

Between that New Year's Eve, December 31, 1958, and the last day in February, as his fellow mathematicians and friends looked on in puzzlement, Nash would undergo a strange and horrible metamorphosis. But on New Year's Eve, he was, by all accounts, simply his flamboyant, eccentric, and slightly off-key self, playful and mischievous. Alicia was in high spirits as well. The idea for Nash's costume had been hers.2 She was the one who sewed it, draped his sash, and ch.o.r.eographed the entrance a moment past midnight. There is no hint of unease or premonition in the photograph of Nash sprawling somewhat drunkenly, with a laughing, gleeful Alicia on his lap, her arm on his shoulder. Most of the evening, though, it was Nash who was curled up in Alicia's lap. Some of the other partygoers found it extremely bizarre, "really gruesome," "disturbing." She was the one who sewed it, draped his sash, and ch.o.r.eographed the entrance a moment past midnight. There is no hint of unease or premonition in the photograph of Nash sprawling somewhat drunkenly, with a laughing, gleeful Alicia on his lap, her arm on his shoulder. Most of the evening, though, it was Nash who was curled up in Alicia's lap. Some of the other partygoers found it extremely bizarre, "really gruesome," "disturbing."

Nash had already crossed some invisible threshold. The feverish activity and the fierce compet.i.tion with Cohen and Newman in the common room, so noticeable in the early fall, had already slowed. He seemed a trifle more withdrawn, a little s.p.a.cier. A graduate student who had just come into Nash's...o...b..t recalled his not being able to keep up with Cohen and Newman. Paul Cohen recalled in 1996 that that fall Nash would make little jokes, little offhand remarks about world affairs, interesting license numbers, and the like. They were funny - Nash was always very bright and very witty - but they showed that something was not all right. "I'd think, 'That's going a little too far,'" Cohen said.3 Nash started singling out individuals. One was a senior named Al Vasquez, who had never taken a course from Nash and was something of a protege of Paul Cohen's. "I'd see him in the common room. He'd say something. It wasn't a conversation. More like a monologue. He gave me preprints of his articles and asked me strange questions about them."4 But none of this was especially alarming or suggested outright illness, just another stage in the evolution of Nash's eccentricity. His conversation, as Raoul Bott put it, had "always mixed mathematics and myth."5 His conversational style had always been a bit odd. He never seemed to know when to speak up or shut up or take part in ordinary give and take. Emma Duchane recalled in 1997 that Nash always, from their earliest acquaintance, which dated back to Nash and Alicia's courts.h.i.+p, told interminable stories with mysterious, off-key punch lines. His conversational style had always been a bit odd. He never seemed to know when to speak up or shut up or take part in ordinary give and take. Emma Duchane recalled in 1997 that Nash always, from their earliest acquaintance, which dated back to Nash and Alicia's courts.h.i.+p, told interminable stories with mysterious, off-key punch lines.6 In his game-theory course, Nash behaved like his usual self, according to students who were in the cla.s.s.7 On the first day, he said to the cla.s.s, "The question occurs to me: Why are you here?," a remark that caused one student to drop the course. Later, he gave a midterm without announcing it in advance. He also paced a great deal and he sometimes fell into reveries in the middle of lecturing or answering a student's question. Just before Thanksgiving, Nash had invited his TA from the game theory course, Ramesh Gangolli, and Alberto Galmarino, a student On the first day, he said to the cla.s.s, "The question occurs to me: Why are you here?," a remark that caused one student to drop the course. Later, he gave a midterm without announcing it in advance. He also paced a great deal and he sometimes fell into reveries in the middle of lecturing or answering a student's question. Just before Thanksgiving, Nash had invited his TA from the game theory course, Ramesh Gangolli, and Alberto Galmarino, a student from the course whom he was helping to choose a dissertation topic, to accompany him on a walk. from the course whom he was helping to choose a dissertation topic, to accompany him on a walk.8 As they walked over the Harvard Bridge on the Charles River late one afternoon, Nash embarked on a lengthy monologue that was difficult to follow for the two, who had just come to the United States. It concerned threats to world peace and calls for world government. Nash seemed to be confiding in the two young men, hinting that he had been asked to play some extraordinary role. Gangolli recalled that he and Galmarino were quite disturbed and that they wondered briefly if they should inform Martin that something was not quite right. Awed as they were by Nash, and new as they were to America - and so reluctant to form any judgments - they decided to say nothing. As they walked over the Harvard Bridge on the Charles River late one afternoon, Nash embarked on a lengthy monologue that was difficult to follow for the two, who had just come to the United States. It concerned threats to world peace and calls for world government. Nash seemed to be confiding in the two young men, hinting that he had been asked to play some extraordinary role. Gangolli recalled that he and Galmarino were quite disturbed and that they wondered briefly if they should inform Martin that something was not quite right. Awed as they were by Nash, and new as they were to America - and so reluctant to form any judgments - they decided to say nothing.

Also around that time, Atle Selberg, one of the masters of a.n.a.lytic number theory, gave a talk in Cambridge. Nash, who was in the audience, seemed to think that Selberg knew some secret that he was holding back. Selberg recalled, "He asked some questions I thought were in a sense, to my way of thinking, somewhat inappropriate to the subject. He seemed to see something quite different than what I had intended... . [His] questions were formulated as if I had some hidden, not fully disclosed, agenda that he wanted to discover. The lecture was about the rigidity of several locally symmetric s.p.a.ces. He asked some questions that seemed to imply I had a hidden, secret motive. He suspected it had something to do with the Riemann Hypothesis, which of course it did not. I was rather taken aback. This was something that had nothing to do whatsoever [with the Riemann Hypothesis]."9 After the New Year's party, people around the department started talking about Nash. Cla.s.ses resumed January 4. A week or ten days later, Nash asked Galmarino to teach a couple of his cla.s.ses. He was going away, he said. Galmarino, who was flattered by Nash's confidence in him, readily agreed. Nash showed up at Rota's apartment on Sacramento Street on his way out of town. Then he disappeared. 10 10 Cohen disappeared at around the same time. After a few days, the scuttleb.u.t.t among the graduate students was that Nash and Cohen had run away together.11 As it happens Cohen had gone to visit his sister. He was terribly upset when he returned to hear what the others had been saying about him and Nash. Nash, meanwhile, had driven south, ultimately to Roanoke, but perhaps also to Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C. As it happens Cohen had gone to visit his sister. He was terribly upset when he returned to hear what the others had been saying about him and Nash. Nash, meanwhile, had driven south, ultimately to Roanoke, but perhaps also to Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C.

A couple of weeks later Nash slouched into the common room. n.o.body bothered to stop talking. Nash was holding a copy of The New York Times. The New York Times. Without addressing anyone in particular, he walked up to Hartley Rogers and some others and pointed to the story on the upper left-hand corner of the Without addressing anyone in particular, he walked up to Hartley Rogers and some others and pointed to the story on the upper left-hand corner of the Times Times front page, the off-lede, as front page, the off-lede, as Times Times staffers call it. staffers call it.12 Nash said that abstract powers from outer s.p.a.ce, or perhaps it was foreign governments, were communicating with him through Nash said that abstract powers from outer s.p.a.ce, or perhaps it was foreign governments, were communicating with him through The New York Times. The New York Times. The messages, which were meant only for him, were encrypted and required close a.n.a.lysis. Others couldn't decode the messages. He was The messages, which were meant only for him, were encrypted and required close a.n.a.lysis. Others couldn't decode the messages. He was being allowed to share the secrets of the world. Rogers and the others looked at each other. Was he joking? being allowed to share the secrets of the world. Rogers and the others looked at each other. Was he joking?

Emma Duchane recalled driving with Nash and Alicia. She recalled that "he kept s.h.i.+fting from station to station. We thought he was just being pesky. But he thought that they were broadcasting messages to him. The things he did were mad, but we didn't really know it."13 Nash gave one of his graduate students an expired license, writing the student's nickname - St. Louis - over his own. He called it an "intergalactic driver's license." He mentioned that he was a member of a committee and that he was putting the student in charge of Asia. The student recalled, "He seemed to be joking around."14 His manner took on a certain furtiveness. Another student, an undergraduate, recalled, "I have this impression of him darting about. I'd walk into a stairwell and he'd disappear as if he'd been lurking there." His manner took on a certain furtiveness. Another student, an undergraduate, recalled, "I have this impression of him darting about. I'd walk into a stairwell and he'd disappear as if he'd been lurking there."15 Nash showed up at the apartment of John and Karin Tate one evening. Everybody was horsing around and finally they settled down to play a game of bridge. Nash's partner was Karin Tate. His bidding was bizarre. At one point he bid six hearts when, as it turned out, he held no hearts at all. Karin asked him, "Are you crazy?" Nash responded quite calmly, explaining that he somehow had expected her to read his bids. "He expected me to understand. He genuinely thought I could understand. I thought he was pulling my leg, but it became obvious that he wasn't. I thought he was doing some sort of experiment."16 Some people continued to think Nash was engaged in some elaborate private joke. There was a lot of discussion about it. Some people continued to think Nash was engaged in some elaborate private joke. There was a lot of discussion about it.

Nash's recollections of those weeks focus on a feeling of mental exhaustion and depletion, recurring and increasingly pervasive images, and a growing sense of revelation regarding a secret world that others around him were not privy to. He began, he recalled in 1996, to notice men in red neckties around the MIT campus. The men seemed to be signaling to him. "I got the impression that other people at MIT were wearing red neckties so I would notice them. As I became more and more delusional, not only persons at MIT but people in Boston wearing red neckties [would seem significant to me]."17 At some point, Nash concluded that the men in red ties were part of a definite pattern. "Also [there was some relation to] a crypto-communist party," he said in 1996. At some point, Nash concluded that the men in red ties were part of a definite pattern. "Also [there was some relation to] a crypto-communist party," he said in 1996.

Things started happening fast. Alicia Nash later compared Nash's disintegration to that of a man who is conversing quite normally at a dinner party, suddenly starts arguing loudly, and finally has an all-out temper tantrum.18 He told Cohen: "People are talking about me. You've heard them. Tell me what they're saying." Cohen recalled: "It had a nasty edge. I told him I didn't know what he was talking about, that I hadn't heard anything."19 Nash was still working on the Riemann problem. Once Nash accused Cohen of rifling through his trash can. Was he trying to steal Nash's ideas about Riemann? Again, it sounded like a bit of an over-the-top joke, but it upset Cohen sufficiently so that he repeated the incident to a student.20 In mid-February, Harold Kuhn, who was on a Fulbright in London with Estelle and his children, spent a few days in Paris where he visited a French mathematician, Claude Berge. Berge showed Kuhn a letter from Nash, written in four colors of ink, complaining that his career was being ruined by aliens from outer s.p.a.ce.21 Possibly, the event that triggered Nash's strange letter to Berge was the announcement of the winner of the 1959 Bocher Prize, Louis Nirenberg, the Courant professor who had suggested the partial differential equation problem to Nash. Paul Cohen later recalled that Nash's reaction was furious. He told Cohen that he deserved the prize and that the fact that an older mathematician had won it was merely a sign that these things were "political."22 Nash also approached Neuwirth about his work. "He said he was giving this lecture on the Riemann Hypothesis," Neuwirth recalled. "But when he started talking it was gibberish. Probability is everything!!! I knew that was crazy. I mentioned it to Newman, who brushed it off."23 On yet another occasion, Nash wandered into Moser's office, unannounced as always. Moser, always affable, suppressed a feeling of irritation and waved him in. Nash stood at the blackboard. He drew a set that resembled a large, wavy baked potato. He drew a couple of other smaller shapes to the right. Then he fixed a long gaze on Moser. "This," he said, pointing to the potato, "is the universe." Moser nodded. Moser was at that time engaged in trying to apply Nash's implicit function theorem to certain problems in celestial mechanics. "This is the government," Nash said, in the same tone that used to say, "This is an elliptic equation." "This is heaven. And this is h.e.l.l."24 Ted and Lucy Martin had been in Mexico on a winter vacation. When Martin returned, Levinson took him aside and told him that Nash was having a nervous breakdown. "Tell me about it," said Martin, who said later that he "almost didn't believe in these things." Martin recalled, "Levinson said, 'He's very paranoid. If you go down to his office, he won't want you between him and the door.' Sure enough, when I went down to his office that Sunday night, Nash edged himself over between me and the door."25 Strange letters began turning up in the department mail. Ruth Goodwin, the department secretary, would put them aside and show them to Martin.26 They were addressed to amba.s.sadors of various countries. And they were from John Nash. Martin panicked. He tried to retrieve the letters, not all of which were addressed and most of which weren't stamped, from mailboxes around the campus. They were addressed to amba.s.sadors of various countries. And they were from John Nash. Martin panicked. He tried to retrieve the letters, not all of which were addressed and most of which weren't stamped, from mailboxes around the campus.

What was in the letters? None have survived, but various people recalled hearing from Martin that Nash was forming a world government. There was a committee that consisted of Nash and various students and colleagues in the department. The letters were addressed to all the emba.s.sies in Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C. The letter said he was forming a world government. He wanted to talk to the amba.s.sadors. Later he would talk to the heads of state. hearing from Martin that Nash was forming a world government. There was a committee that consisted of Nash and various students and colleagues in the department. The letters were addressed to all the emba.s.sies in Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C. The letter said he was forming a world government. He wanted to talk to the amba.s.sadors. Later he would talk to the heads of state.27 Martin was in a most awkward position. The faculty, after some internal dissension, had just voted on Nash's promotion, and it was now before the president of the university'. He dithered and delayed.

Meanwhile, Adrian Albert, the chairman of the mathematics department at the University of Chicago, called Norman Levinson. What was Nash's state of mind? he asked Levinson. Chicago had made an offer of a prestigious chair to Nash, Nash was scheduled to give a talk, and now he had received a very odd letter from Nash.28 It was a refusal of the Chicago offer. Nash had thanked Albert for his kind offer but said he would have to decline because he was scheduled to become Emperor of Antarctica. The letter, Browder recalled in 1996, also contained references to Ted Martin's stealing Nash's ideas. The affair came to the attention of MIT president Julius Stratton, who, upon seeing a copy of Nash's letter, is supposed to have said, "This is a very sick man." It was a refusal of the Chicago offer. Nash had thanked Albert for his kind offer but said he would have to decline because he was scheduled to become Emperor of Antarctica. The letter, Browder recalled in 1996, also contained references to Ted Martin's stealing Nash's ideas. The affair came to the attention of MIT president Julius Stratton, who, upon seeing a copy of Nash's letter, is supposed to have said, "This is a very sick man."

The spring term began February 9. Shortly after Was.h.i.+ngton's birthday, Eugenio Calabi, who was a member that year at the Inst.i.tute for Advanced Study in Princeton, gave a seminar at MIT. Undergraduates, even very bright ones, didn't normally attend departmental seminars, but Al Vasquez, a senior, decided he would go. He put on a sport coat and tie for the occasion. Feeling rather self-conscious, he sat a few rows from the rear and hoped that he looked less conspicuous than he felt.

He had noticed, as he sat down, that Nash was sitting in the row behind him. In the middle of Calabi's lecture, Nash started speaking rather loudly, although he did not appear to be addressing Calabi. After a few moments, Vasquez realized that Nash was talking to him. "Vasquez, did you know that I'm on the cover of Life Life magazine?" Nash kept repeating until Vasquez turned around. magazine?" Nash kept repeating until Vasquez turned around.29 Nash told Vasquez that his photograph had been disguised to make it look as if it were Pope John the Twenty-third. Vasquez, he said, also had his picture on a Life Life cover and it too was disguised. How did he know that the photograph, apparently of the pope, was really of himself? Two ways, he explained. First because John wasn't the pope's given name but a name that he had chosen. Second, because twenty-three was Nash's "favorite prime number." cover and it too was disguised. How did he know that the photograph, apparently of the pope, was really of himself? Two ways, he explained. First because John wasn't the pope's given name but a name that he had chosen. Second, because twenty-three was Nash's "favorite prime number."

Almost the strangest thing, Vasquez later recalled, was that Calabi kept on lecturing as if nothing untoward were happening, and the rest of the audience too ignored the interchange, although it must have been audible to everyone in the room.

Nash and Calabi knew each other from their graduate-school days at Princeton. Before Calabi had come up to Cambridge, Nash had telephoned him at his apartment on Einstein Drive and asked whether the Calabis could put him and Alicia up for a few days.30 He wanted to spend a few days at the inst.i.tute consulting with Atle Selberg, the number theorist, and preparing a talk that he was scheduled to give at the upcoming regional math society meeting. He wanted to spend a few days at the inst.i.tute consulting with Atle Selberg, the number theorist, and preparing a talk that he was scheduled to give at the upcoming regional math society meeting.

Calabi and the Nashes went out to dinner after Calabi's talk. Both Nashes seemed unusually nervous, Calabi recalled. "At one point, Nash made a wrong turn and Alicia began yelling hysterically. He was somewhat anxious."

The next day, the Nashes left for Princeton while Calabi stayed on in Cambridge. A day or two later, Calabi got a call from his wife, Giuliana, who said that Nash was behaving very strangely and would he come home?

On one occasion, Nash had walked into another apartment, used the bathroom, and walked out again. All the apartments on Einstein Drive looked virtually identical from the outside and mistakes were commonplace, but even afterward Nash didn't seem to be aware that he had been in the wrong apartment.

On the afternoon of February 28, Nash was even more agitated. Calabi had just returned. "He was acting much more nervous than usual. Very agitated. At the moment of leaving, he was misplacing notes, running back and forth between the car and the house. Alicia was trying to calm him down." Calabi watched, full of misgivings. Speaking of Nash's mathematical investigation, he said, "I knew in that area that problem was not going to yield to a flash of inspiration."31 Nash's consultations with Selberg apparently came to naught. Selberg had merely been irritated by Nash's persistence, as he later recalled, and told Nash, in even harsher terms, that the probabilistic approach he was pursuing had been tried before and had already been demonstrated to be fruitless.32 One can only imagine the fear and confusion that Nash felt that afternoon as he stood before the 250 or so mathematicians who came to his lecture, sponsored by the American Mathematical Society, in a Columbia University auditorium.33 Harold N. Shapiro, a professor at the Courant Inst.i.tute and a number theorist who had known Nash since the summer they spent together at RAND in 1952, introduced Nash.

There was in fact an air of tremendous expectation in the hall. Regional AMS meetings were essentially job meetings. The audience consisted both of job seekers and established mathematicians, among them many who knew Nash and his work intimately. "Here was a great young mathematician with a proven ability for tackling the most difficult problems about to announce what he felt was a likely solution to the deepest problem in all of mathematics," recalled Shapiro. "I remember hearing that he was interested in prime numbers. Everybody's reaction was that if Nash turns to number theory, number theorists better watch out. There was a buzz." the most difficult problems about to announce what he felt was a likely solution to the deepest problem in all of mathematics," recalled Shapiro. "I remember hearing that he was interested in prime numbers. Everybody's reaction was that if Nash turns to number theory, number theorists better watch out. There was a buzz."34 Peter Lax, a professor at the Courant Inst.i.tute, described it as "a very strange adventure."

Lipman Bers reminded me, as we were listening to Nash's talk, that Heifetz gave his first concert at Carnegie (accompanied by the pianist G.o.dowski). An older violinist, turning to the musician seated next to him, said, "It's very hot in here." "Not for the pianist," came the answer. It must have been hot in there, but only for the number theorists in the audience. It was work in progress. I couldn't judge it. Mathematicians don't usually present unfinished work.35

At first, it seemed like just another one of Nash's cryptic, disorganized performances, more free a.s.sociation than exposition. But halfway through, something happened. Donald Newman recalled in 1996: One word didn't fit in with the other. I was at Yes.h.i.+va. Rademacher, who had worked on the Riemann Hypothesis, was present. In fact, he wrote a brilliant paper on How Not to Solve the Riemann Hypothesis. It was Nash's first downfall. Everybody knew something was wrong. He didn't get stuck. It was his chatter. The math was just lunacy. What does this have to do with the Riemann Hypothesis? Some people didn't catch it. People go to these meetings and sit through lectures. Then they go out in the hall, b.u.t.tonhole other people, and try to figure out what they just heard. Nash's talk wasn't good or bad. It was horrible.36

Cathleen Morawetz, who had enjoyed joking around with Nash at Courant two years earlier, ran into Nash in the stairwell after the talk: "He was laughed out of the auditorium," she recalled. "I felt terrible. I said something nice to him, but I was disturbed. He seemed very depressed." (Later Cathleen used the phrase "heaping scorn on him" to describe the audience reaction.)37 Nash had been invited to give a talk at Yale as well on his way back to Cambridge. It was his second talk at Yale that year, but he couldn't find his way there. He kept calling Felix Browder, then teaching at Yale, and telling him that he couldn't understand how to get off the Merritt Parkway.

Nash talked about the Riemann Hypothesis just as he had at Columbia. Again, it was a disastrous performance, as recalled by Browder, who contrasted his performance with the earlier one. "The preceding year there was no hint of trouble. That is when he finished the parabolic equations proof. [In fact] he completed the proof during a talk. I [had] asked him if he wanted to come and give another talk at Yale. It wasn't coherent. I thought something was wrong." performance with the earlier one. "The preceding year there was no hint of trouble. That is when he finished the parabolic equations proof. [In fact] he completed the proof during a talk. I [had] asked him if he wanted to come and give another talk at Yale. It wasn't coherent. I thought something was wrong."38

CHAPTER 35

In the Eye of the Storm Spring 1959 Spring 1959

It was like a tornado. You want to hang on to what you have. You don't want to see everything go.

- ALICIA N NASH

DESPITE A ALICIA'S apparent elation on New Year's Eve, her state of mind in the preceding months had been anything but carefree. Since returning from their European holiday, her starry-eyed view of her new life had given way to a darker, more somber perspective. She and Nash had moved out to West Medford, a small industrial city north of Cambridge, and Alicia felt cut off and isolated. Her goal of establis.h.i.+ng a career seemed more distant than ever. Her feelings about her pregnancy were ambivalent, and her initial hopes that it would draw her and Nash closer were disappointed. Her husband had become, if anything, more cold and distant. As the weather turned colder and the days shorter, she felt more and more dispirited, anxious, and alone - so much so that she was thinking of consulting a psychiatrist. apparent elation on New Year's Eve, her state of mind in the preceding months had been anything but carefree. Since returning from their European holiday, her starry-eyed view of her new life had given way to a darker, more somber perspective. She and Nash had moved out to West Medford, a small industrial city north of Cambridge, and Alicia felt cut off and isolated. Her goal of establis.h.i.+ng a career seemed more distant than ever. Her feelings about her pregnancy were ambivalent, and her initial hopes that it would draw her and Nash closer were disappointed. Her husband had become, if anything, more cold and distant. As the weather turned colder and the days shorter, she felt more and more dispirited, anxious, and alone - so much so that she was thinking of consulting a psychiatrist.1 That had been before Thanksgiving. Since then, Nash's behavior, rather than her own low mood, had become her chief source of distress. Several times, Nash had cornered her with odd questions when they were alone, either at home or driving in the car. "Why don't you tell me about it?" he asked in an angry, agitated tone, apropos of nothing. "Tell me what you know," he demanded.2 He behaved as if she knew some secret but wouldn't share it with him. The first time he said it, Alicia thought Nash suspected her of having an affair. When he repeated it, she wondered whether he might not be having an affair himself. That would account for his growing secretiveness and air of abstraction. Might he not be trying to deflect attention from himself by accusing her? He behaved as if she knew some secret but wouldn't share it with him. The first time he said it, Alicia thought Nash suspected her of having an affair. When he repeated it, she wondered whether he might not be having an affair himself. That would account for his growing secretiveness and air of abstraction. Might he not be trying to deflect attention from himself by accusing her?

By New Year's Day, the day she turned twenty-six, Alicia was sure that "something was wrong."3 Nash's behavior had become more and more peculiar. He was irritable and hypersensitive one minute, eerily withdrawn the next. He complained that he "knew something was going on" and that he was being "bugged." And he was staying up nights writing strange letters to the United Nations. One night, after Nash's behavior had become more and more peculiar. He was irritable and hypersensitive one minute, eerily withdrawn the next. He complained that he "knew something was going on" and that he was being "bugged." And he was staying up nights writing strange letters to the United Nations. One night, after he had painted black spots all over their bedroom wall, Alicia made him sleep on the living-room couch. he had painted black spots all over their bedroom wall, Alicia made him sleep on the living-room couch.4 Alarmed, Alicia searched for explanations rooted in their day-to-day life. Her first thought was that Nash was unduly worried about the impending tenure decision. She suspected that the prospect of a baby, with all the new responsibilities that implied, was another source of pressure. And she wondered whether marriage to someone "different" like her wasn't proving too much of a strain for a southern WASP.5 Alicia vainly tried to rea.s.sure Nash. She told him, over and over, that his worries about tenure were unfounded, that he was the department's fair-haired boy, that Martin, after all, was confident that the decision would be favorable. She reasoned with him, pointing out that the letter writing "could undermine his professional credibility" and might even jeopardize his tenure. When that failed, she remonstrated with him. "You can't act silly," she would say. Then Nash did a number of things that frightened her - and made inescapable the conclusion that he was suffering some sort of mental breakdown.

He started to threaten to take all of his savings out of the bank and move to Europe.6 He had some idea, it seemed, of founding an international organization. And he began to stay up, night after night, long after she had gone to bed, writing. In the morning, his desk would be covered with sheets of paper covered in blue, green, red, and black ink. They were addressed not just to the U.N. but to various foreign amba.s.sadors, the pope, even the FBI. He had some idea, it seemed, of founding an international organization. And he began to stay up, night after night, long after she had gone to bed, writing. In the morning, his desk would be covered with sheets of paper covered in blue, green, red, and black ink. They were addressed not just to the U.N. but to various foreign amba.s.sadors, the pope, even the FBI.

It was in mid-January, while cla.s.ses were still in session, that Nash took off for Roanoke in the middle of the night after a wild scene. Seeing no alternative, Alicia broke her silence and telephoned Virginia to warn her. She told her mother-in-law very little, though, as Martha recalled, other than that Nash was suffering from stress and was behaving somewhat irrationally. When he arrived in Roanoke, Virginia and Martha were frightened by his agitated state. At one point, he struck Virginia on the arm.7 When Nash returned, he continued to badger Alicia in private. Once he threatened to hit her "if you don't tell me."8 Alicia was initially more worried about Nash and their future together than about any physical threats to herself. Her immediate, overwhelming instinct was to prevent the university from finding out about Nash's difficulties. "I didn't want the bad things to get out."9 She quit her job at Technical Operations and took one at the Computer Center on campus. She began to watch Nash all the time, to stick very close to him, to keep him more to herself. She would stop by the mathematics department every afternoon after work and pick him up. She no longer invited others to join them when they ate out. She particularly tried to avoid Paul Cohen, although Nash's insistence sometimes made this impossible. "Alicia wanted to save his career and preserve his intellect," a friend of Alicia's later recalled. "It was in her interest to keep Nash intact. She was extremely tough." them when they ate out. She particularly tried to avoid Paul Cohen, although Nash's insistence sometimes made this impossible. "Alicia wanted to save his career and preserve his intellect," a friend of Alicia's later recalled. "It was in her interest to keep Nash intact. She was extremely tough."10 Until the Roanoke episode, Alicia had confided in no one. Now she consulted a psychiatrist from the MIT medical department, a Dr. Haskell Sch.e.l.l.11 She also asked Emma to have lunch with her alone a few times and, although reluctantly and holding much back, told her friend some of what had been happening. She also asked Emma to have lunch with her alone a few times and, although reluctantly and holding much back, told her friend some of what had been happening.

At the beginning, it seemed to Alicia that her psychiatrist was more intent on asking her questions - about her upbringing, her marriage, her s.e.x life - than on offering practical advice on how to cope. "At first Alicia trusted them because it was MIT," Emma recalled. "But it was a very Freudian time. The psychiatry department was ultra-Freudian. They wanted to treat Alicia. She wanted practical help." Emma continued: They asked Alicia a lot of questions. She got very impatient. Nash was threatening to go off to Europe, to withdraw all their money, to start an international organization. She was looking into the laws. She found out that you could have somebody committed for a limited time with the signature of two psychiatrists. To keep them longer, you had to have a court hearing.12

Emma was working with Jerome Lettvin, a former psychiatrist who was now pursuing research in neurophysiology at MIT. She asked Lettvin what Alicia should do. The result was that Alicia got very conflicting advice. On the one hand, Lettvin was urging her, through Emma, to consider shock treatments. "Lettvin's idea was that when somebody was delusional the sooner he was shocked out of it the better," Emma recalled. On the other hand, Sch.e.l.l was recommending that Nash go to McLean Hospital, an ultra-Freudian inst.i.tution that eschewed shock treatments in favor of psychoa.n.a.lysis and new antipsychotic drugs like Thorazine. Alicia rejected the notion of shock treatment. "She was very concerned with preserving his genius," Emma stated in 1997. "She wasn't going to force anything on him. She also wanted there to be nothing that would interfere with his brain. N o drugs. No shock treatments."13 In January, the department voted to give Nash tenure. A few weeks later, Martin, now aware that Nash was suffering some sort of "nervous breakdown," decided to relieve Nash of his teaching duties for the coming semester.14 Although distressed that the university had found out about Nash's problems, Alicia was greatly relieved. She hoped that this move would lift some of the pressures on Nash and that he would improve spontaneously. Although distressed that the university had found out about Nash's problems, Alicia was greatly relieved. She hoped that this move would lift some of the pressures on Nash and that he would improve spontaneously.

Deciding what, if anything, to do was so difficult because Nash often seemed quite normal. The on-again, off-again nature of his symptoms also convinced some of his colleagues and graduate students in the department that nothing was seriously wrong. Gian-Carlo Rota recalled that Nash's personality "didn't seem very different," although "his mathematics no longer made sense." quite normal. The on-again, off-again nature of his symptoms also convinced some of his colleagues and graduate students in the department that nothing was seriously wrong. Gian-Carlo Rota recalled that Nash's personality "didn't seem very different," although "his mathematics no longer made sense."15 Some days everything looked just as it always had, and Alicia found herself wondering, until the next outburst of bizarre behavior, whether she had been exaggerating, unnecessarily alarmed, premature in her judgments. Some days everything looked just as it always had, and Alicia found herself wondering, until the next outburst of bizarre behavior, whether she had been exaggerating, unnecessarily alarmed, premature in her judgments.

In mid-March, two weeks after the disastrous New York trip when Nash had given his lecture on the Riemann Hypothesis, Nash was writing rea.s.suring letters home. "My talk in New York went reasonably well," he wrote Virginia on March 12, urging her to come up to Boston to visit him and Alicia.16 On the same day, he even wrote a long letter to Martha in which he complained of boredom. Nash wrote, "Since she has become pregnant Alicia does not like to go out. She enjoys TV and movie magazines. These things tend to bore me. The level is too low." On the same day, he even wrote a long letter to Martha in which he complained of boredom. Nash wrote, "Since she has become pregnant Alicia does not like to go out. She enjoys TV and movie magazines. These things tend to bore me. The level is too low."17 But these periods of lucidity and calm soon gave way to an eruption that Alicia later compared to a "tornado."18 The episode that convinced Alicia that she had no choice but to seek treatment for Nash occurred around Easter. Nash took off for Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C., in his Mercedes. He was, it appeared, trying to deliver letters to foreign governments by dropping them into the mail slots of emba.s.sies. The episode that convinced Alicia that she had no choice but to seek treatment for Nash occurred around Easter. Nash took off for Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C., in his Mercedes. He was, it appeared, trying to deliver letters to foreign governments by dropping them into the mail slots of emba.s.sies.19 This time Alicia went with him. Before they left, she telephoned her friend Emma and asked her to contact the university psychiatrist if they did not return within a week or so. Emma recalled in 1997 that Alicia was afraid Nash might harm her. Curiously, her concern, at least in Emma's recollection, was less for herself than for Nash: "She wanted the world to know that Nash was mad. She was worried about Nash. She worried that if she came to harm that he'd be treated like a common criminal, so she wanted to be sure that everyone knew that he was insane." This time Alicia went with him. Before they left, she telephoned her friend Emma and asked her to contact the university psychiatrist if they did not return within a week or so. Emma recalled in 1997 that Alicia was afraid Nash might harm her. Curiously, her concern, at least in Emma's recollection, was less for herself than for Nash: "She wanted the world to know that Nash was mad. She was worried about Nash. She worried that if she came to harm that he'd be treated like a common criminal, so she wanted to be sure that everyone knew that he was insane."20 When Emma did call Sch.e.l.l he refused to come to the telephone and had a nurse tell her that "Dr. Sch.e.l.l doesn't discuss his patients." She added, "I was interviewed at Lincoln Labs about Alicia. I was asked whether she was afraid of her husband. But she wasn't. He was just very sick."21'

Emma's impressions to the contrary, Alicia was afraid, though she managed to hide her fear from almost everyone. Paul Cohen, however, recalled that "she was afraid of him."22 A few weeks later she would tell Gertrude Moser, who questioned her decision to have Nash hospitalized, that, in Gertrude's words, "Something had happened in the middle of the night and she had to save herself and the child." A few weeks later she would tell Gertrude Moser, who questioned her decision to have Nash hospitalized, that, in Gertrude's words, "Something had happened in the middle of the night and she had to save herself and the child."23 It was fear for her own safety, as well as her psychiatrist's warning that Nash would continue to deteriorate unless he got treatment, that prompted her to seek commitment, at least for observation. She wished, however, to conceal what he would inevitably regard as an act of treachery. So she turned to her mother-in-law and asked her to come to Boston. It was fear for her own safety, as well as her psychiatrist's warning that Nash would continue to deteriorate unless he got treatment, that prompted her to seek commitment, at least for observation. She wished, however, to conceal what he would inevitably regard as an act of treachery. So she turned to her mother-in-law and asked her to come to Boston.

George Whitehead, one of Nash's colleagues, had temporarily moved to Princeton with his wife, Kay. In mid-April, the Whiteheads drove up to Boston to have their car, which was still registered in Ma.s.sachusetts, inspected. It was an annual ritual. That evening they went to a party at the home of Oscar Goldman in Concord. Most of the MIT mathematics department was there. Kay recalled in 1995: "The word was 'Tomorrow, Alicia is having John committed.' Obviously, there was a lot of talk about it."24

CHAPTER 36

Day Breaks in Bowditch Hall McLean Hospital, April-May 1959 McLean Hospital, April-May 1959

This is the way day breaks in Bowditch Hall at McLean's.

- "Waking in the Blue," Life Studies, Life Studies, R ROBERT L LOWELL

WHEN A STRANGER in a suit knocked on Paul Cohen's office door to inquire whether he had seen Dr. Nash that afternoon, the man's slightly unctuous, self-important manner made Cohen wonder whether this was the psychiatrist who was going to have Nash "locked up." in a suit knocked on Paul Cohen's office door to inquire whether he had seen Dr. Nash that afternoon, the man's slightly unctuous, self-important manner made Cohen wonder whether this was the psychiatrist who was going to have Nash "locked up."1 For days the younger people in the department had been speculating - based on hints dropped by Ambrose and some of the other senior faculty - that Nash's wife was about to have him committed. Furious controversies had broken out over whether Nash was truly insane or merely eccentrie, and over whether, insane or not, anyone had the right to rob a genius like Nash of his freedom. For days the younger people in the department had been speculating - based on hints dropped by Ambrose and some of the other senior faculty - that Nash's wife was about to have him committed. Furious controversies had broken out over whether Nash was truly insane or merely eccentrie, and over whether, insane or not, anyone had the right to rob a genius like Nash of his freedom.2 Cohen, who felt that he had been somehow unfairly implicated in the whole affair, had pretty much steered clear of these debates, but he nonetheless felt a certain morbid fascination. To the stranger, however, he merely said no, he hadn't seen Dr. Nash all day. Cohen, who felt that he had been somehow unfairly implicated in the whole affair, had pretty much steered clear of these debates, but he nonetheless felt a certain morbid fascination. To the stranger, however, he merely said no, he hadn't seen Dr. Nash all day.

So when Nash showed up at Cohen's door not very long afterward, seemingly oblivious to whatever machinations were under way, Cohen was more than a little surprised. Nash wanted to know if Cohen would like to go for a walk with him. Cohen agreed, and the two wandered around the MIT campus for an hour or more. As they walked, Nash spoke in a fitful monologue while Cohen listened, perplexed and uncomfortable. Occasionally Nash would stop, point at something, and whisper conspiratorially: "Look at that dog over there. He's following us."3 He frightened Cohen a bit by talking about Alicia in a way that made the younger man feel that she might be in danger. After they parted, Cohen learned later, Nash was picked up and taken to McLean Hospital. He frightened Cohen a bit by talking about Alicia in a way that made the younger man feel that she might be in danger. After they parted, Cohen learned later, Nash was picked up and taken to McLean Hospital.

It was not difficult to get someone into McLean even if they did not want to go. Nash's involuntary commitment to a mental hospital for observation was likelv arranged by MIT's psychiatric service, probably in consultation with the president of the university as well as Martin and Levinson.4 Given Nash's acute paranoia, his bizarre letter writing, his inability to teach, and the potential that he might carry out his threats to harm Alicia, the pressure to intervene would have been great. One imagines that before taking the drastic measure of involuntary commitment, one of the psychiatrists in MIT's employ attempted to convince Nash to obtain treatment voluntarily first. Merton J. Kahne, a professor of psychiatry at MIT who ran McLean's admissions ward during the 1950s, said in 1996: Given Nash's acute paranoia, his bizarre letter writing, his inability to teach, and the potential that he might carry out his threats to harm Alicia, the pressure to intervene would have been great. One imagines that before taking the drastic measure of involuntary commitment, one of the psychiatrists in MIT's employ attempted to convince Nash to obtain treatment voluntarily first. Merton J. Kahne, a professor of psychiatry at MIT who ran McLean's admissions ward during the 1950s, said in 1996: They would have tried to figure out how to get him into therapy without coercion. A lot of heads would have been put together to try to find a solution. In those days, there was an attempt to maintain some respect for the human being, whether they were crazy or not. They weren't interested in peremptorily putting someone in the hospital against their will. The stigma was enormous.

The decision was an especially tricky one because of Nash's prominent position at the university, and because, as is often the case, it was inherently controversial. As Kahne put it, "The more powerful or exceptional the individual, the more controversial the decision."

The mechanics, however, were fairly straightforward. Any psychiatrist could apply to a mental hospital to have a patient taken for a ten-day observation period. A university psychiatrist would have signed a temporary care order - a so-called pink paper - asking McLean to take Nash on the grounds that he was a danger to himself or others (although a simple inability to care for oneself was sufficient grounds). The pink paper gave MIT the right to pick Nash up and transport him to McLean. Technically, it was the hospital that made the decision to hold a patient, initially for a ten-day period.

That April evening, some hours after Nash and Cohen parted company, two Cambridge policemen arrived at the Nash's West Medford house. As Nash recalls, "they as if arrested me... ."5 The use of police officers was, by all accounts, an extreme measure; it suggested that the university psychiatrists were expecting trouble. Most cases of involuntary commitment involving university personnel were handled far more discreetly, in a manner designed to avoid scandal and humiliation, by out-of-uniform campus police driving a gray Chevrolet station wagon, marked only with maroon lettering, whose interior was equipped as an ambulance. The use of police officers was, by all accounts, an extreme measure; it suggested that the university psychiatrists were expecting trouble. Most cases of involuntary commitment involving university personnel were handled far more discreetly, in a manner designed to avoid scandal and humiliation, by out-of-uniform campus police driving a gray Chevrolet station wagon, marked only with maroon lettering, whose interior was equipped as an ambulance.6 As it happened, Nash refused to go and a scuffle ensued. "I actually struggled with them in resistance at first," he recalled. Resistance was useless, however. Big and strong as he was, Nash was quickly overpowered and bundled into the back of the police cruiser. The drive from West Medford to Belmont took less than half an hour. As it happened, Nash refused to go and a scuffle ensued. "I actually struggled with them in resistance at first," he recalled. Resistance was useless, however. Big and strong as he was, Nash was quickly overpowered and bundled into the back of the police cruiser. The drive from West Medford to Belmont took less than half an hour.

One Hundred Fifteen Mill Street, Belmont, Ma.s.sachusetts, was, and still is, a verdant 240acre expanse of rolling lawns and winding lanes and a scattering of buildings of old brick and ironwork nestled among majestic trees or perched airily on rises - a precise copy, that is to say, of a well-manicured New England college campus of late-nineteenth-century vintage.7 Many of its smaller buildings were designed to resemble the homes of wealthy Boston Brahmins - long the bulk of McLean's clientele. A psychiatrist who reviewed the hospital for the American Psychiatric a.s.sociation in the late 1940s recalled, "There were all these little two-story homes with suites - kitchen, living room, bedroom. They had suites for the cook, the maid, the chauffeur." Many of its smaller buildings were designed to resemble the homes of wealthy Boston Brahmins - long the bulk of McLean's clientele. A psychiatrist who reviewed the hospital for the American Psychiatric a.s.sociation in the late 1940s recalled, "There were all these little two-story homes with suites - kitchen, living room, bedroom. They had suites for the cook, the maid, the chauffeur."8 Upham House, a former medical resident recalled, had four corner suites per floor and on one of its floors all four patients turned out to be members of the Harvard Club! Upham House, a former medical resident recalled, had four corner suites per floor and on one of its floors all four patients turned out to be members of the Harvard Club!

McLean was, as it still is, connected to Harvard Medical School. So many of the wealthy, intellectual, and famous came there - Sylvia Plath, Ray Charles, and Robert Lowell among them9 - that many people around Cambridge had come to think of it less as a mental hospital and more as a kind of sanatorium where high-strung poets, professors, and graduate students wound up for a special kind of R&R. - that many people around Cambridge had come to think of it less as a mental hospital and more as a kind of sanatorium where high-strung poets, professors, and graduate students wound up for a special kind of R&R.

The resident on duty that evening urged Nash to sign a "voluntary paper." Nash refused. There was a great movement for world peace, he said, and he was its leader. He called himself "the prince of peace."10 He was informed of his legal rights, including mis right to file a pet.i.tion for release. A tentative diagnosis was made, but this was not discussed with him. And a doc.u.ment applying to a judge for a ten-day commitment was filled out. He was then escorted to the admissions ward in Belnap One, a low brick building on the north side of McLean's campus, just beyond the administration building. He was informed of his legal rights, including mis right to file a pet.i.tion for release. A tentative diagnosis was made, but this was not discussed with him. And a doc.u.ment applying to a judge for a ten-day commitment was filled out. He was then escorted to the admissions ward in Belnap One, a low brick building on the north side of McLean's campus, just beyond the administration building.

Nash used the pay telephone in the lounge. He did not call a lawyer, but rang f.a.gi Levinson instead. "John wanted to know how he could get out of there," she said. "He said he wanted a shower. 'I stink,' he said."11 Virginia Nash traveled up from Roanoke to see her son. She was devastated. She wept and wept, Emma Duchane recalled, saying over and over that she could not "bear to see Johnny in this situation."12 She seemed close to a breakdown herself. She did not offer Alicia any help, financial or otherwise. Alicia, who was very short of funds, about to give birth, and mad with worry, was bitterly disappointed. She had counted on Virginia for support, but it was obvious that Virginia needed even more help than she did. She seemed close to a breakdown herself. She did not offer Alicia any help, financial or otherwise. Alicia, who was very short of funds, about to give birth, and mad with worry, was bitterly disappointed. She had counted on Virginia for support, but it was obvious that Virginia needed even more help than she did.

Nash was soon transferred to Bowditch Hall, a low white frame building at the edge of the McLean campus. Bowditch was a locked facility for men. Within a couple of weeks, Robert Lowell, the poet, joined him there.13 Lowell was already famous, a dozen years older than Nash, and a manic depressive who was now enduring his fifth hospitalization in less than ten years. For Lowell, it was "a mad month" spent "rewriting everything in my three books," translating Heine and Baudelaire, reworking Milton's "Lycidas," which he believed he had himself written, feeling "I had hit the skies, that all cohered." Lowell was already famous, a dozen years older than Nash, and a manic depressive who was now enduring his fifth hospitalization in less than ten years. For Lowell, it was "a mad month" spent "rewriting everything in my three books," translating Heine and Baudelaire, reworking Milton's "Lycidas," which he believed he had himself written, feeling "I had hit the skies, that all cohered."14 "Thrown together like a bundle of kindling, [unable] to escape," as Lowell's widow, Elizabeth Hardwick, later put it,15 Lowell and Nash spent a good deal of time together. When Arthur Mattuck came to visit Nash, he found fifteen or twenty people crowded in Nash's narrow s...o...b..x of a bedroom. Lowell and Nash spent a good deal of time together. When Arthur Mattuck came to visit Nash, he found fifteen or twenty people crowded in Nash's narrow s...o...b..x of a bedroom.16 In what turned out to be an oft-repeated scene, Lowell was sitting on Nash's bed, surrounded by patients and staff sitting at his feet on the floor or standing against the walls, delivering what amounted to a long monologue in his unmistakable voice - "weary, nasal, hesitant, whining, mumbling." Nash was hunched over beside him. Mattuck recalled in 1997: "I don't remember anything of the conversation except that it was general. In other words, only one person spoke at a time and that was most of the time Lowell. Basically he was holding forth on one topic after another, and the rest of us were appreciating this brilliant man. Nash said very little, like the rest of us." In what turned out to be an oft-repeated scene, Lowell was sitting on Nash's bed, surrounded by patients and staff sitting at his feet on the floor or standing against the walls, delivering what amounted to a long monologue in his unmistakable voice - "weary, nasal, hesitant, whining, mumbling." Nash was hunched over beside him. Mattuck recalled in 1997: "I don't remember anything of the conversation except that it was general. In other words, only one person spoke at a time and that was most of the time Lowell. Basically he was holding forth on one topic after another, and the rest of us were appreciating this brilliant man. Nash said very little, like the rest of us."

Once a women's residence where no man had "apparently entered since perhaps 1860," Bowditch was, in Lowell's words, now designated for "ex-paranoid boys"17 - the ones who thought there was nothing wrong with them and couldn't be trusted not to bolt. As such, it was oddly genteel. At Bowditch, Nash and his fellow inmates were treated "to a maze of tender fussy attentions suitable to old ladies." - the ones who thought there was nothing wrong with them and couldn't be trusted not to bolt. As such, it was oddly genteel. At Bowditch, Nash and his fellow inmates were treated "to a maze of tender fussy attentions suitable to old ladies."18 The crew-cut Roman Catholic nurses, many of them Boston University students, brought him chocolate milk at bedtime, inquired about his interests, hobbies, and friends, and called him Professor. The crew-cut Roman Catholic nurses, many of them Boston University students, brought him chocolate milk at bedtime, inquired about his interests, hobbies, and friends, and called him Professor.19 "Hearty New England breakfast[s]" were followed by ample lunches and homey dinners; everybody got fat. Nash had a private room "with a door that shut," a "hooded night light," and a view. There were no screams, no violent episodes, no straitjackets. His fellow patients, "thoroughbred mental cases," were polite, full of concern, eager to make his acquaintance, lend him their books, and clue him in to "the routine." They were young Harvard "c.o.c.k[s] of the walk" slowed down by ma.s.sive injections of Thorazine, yet "so much more intelligent and interesting than the doctors," as Nash confided to Emma Duchane when she came to visit. "Hearty New England breakfast[s]" were followed by ample lunches and homey dinners; everybody got fat. Nash had a private room "with a door that shut," a "hooded night light," and a view. There were no screams, no violent episodes, no straitjackets. His fellow patients, "thoroughbred mental cases," were polite, full of concern, eager to make his acquaintance, lend him their books, and clue him in to "the routine." They were young Harvard "c.o.c.k[s] of the walk" slowed down by ma.s.sive injections of Thorazine, yet "so much more intelligent and interesting than the doctors," as Nash confided to Emma Duchane when she came to visit.20 There were also old Harvard types "dripping crumbs in front of the TV screen, idly pus.h.i.+ng the b.u.t.tons." (Nearly half of McLean's patients were geriatric, like Lowell's "Bobbie/Porcellian '29," who strutted around Bowditch late at night "in his birthday suit.") There were also old Harvard types "dripping crumbs in front of the TV screen, idly pus.h.i.+ng the b.u.t.tons." (Nearly half of McLean's patients were geriatric, like Lowell's "Bobbie/Porcellian '29," who strutted around Bowditch late at night "in his birthday suit.")21 Yet, there Nash was, stripped to his underwear, his belt and shoes taken away, standing before a shaving mirror that was not gla.s.s, but metal. As for his view the next morning, in Lowell's words, "Azure day/makes my agonized blue window bleaker." The days must have seemed very long: "[H]ours and hours go by." Above all, there was the terrible awareness when visitors came that they were free to go back through the locked doors through which they had come while he could not. It was in no way horrible; he was merely, as another inmate of a mental hospital once put it, "considered beyond reasoning with ... and treated like a child; not brutally, but efficiently, firmly, patronizingly." all, there was the terrible awareness when visitors came that they were free to go back through the locked doors through which they had come while he could not. It was in no way horrible; he was merely, as another inmate of a mental hospital once put it, "considered beyond reasoning with ... and treated like a child; not brutally, but efficiently, firmly, patronizingly."22 He had merely relinquished his rights as an adult human being. Like Lowell, he must have asked himself, "What good is my sense of humor?" He had merely relinquished his rights as an adult human being. Like Lowell, he must have asked himself, "What good is my sense of humor?"

Alicia urged everyone they knew to visit Nash.23 f.a.gi Levinson organized a visitor's schedule. f.a.gi Levinson organized a visitor's schedule.24 The feeling was that with the support of friends, Nash would soon be on his feet again. "Everyone at MIT felt responsible for trying to make Nash better," recalled f.a.gi in 1996. "At McLean, all felt the more companions.h.i.+p and support he had, the quicker he would recover." The feeling was that with the support of friends, Nash would soon be on his feet again. "Everyone at MIT felt responsible for trying to make Nash better," recalled f.a.gi in 1996. "At McLean, all felt the more companions.h.i.+p and support he had, the quicker he would recover."

One afternoon, Al Vasquez ran into Paul Cohen, who was extremely upset. He had been out to McLean to visit Nash. And he'd been turned away. What had happened, he told Vasquez, was that McLean had some sort of list of verboten visitors. "He was on the list," Vasquez recalled. "And I was on it too. I was really shocked."25 Vasquez - along with most of