Dissappointment
Charles' and Claire's dreams for Semantography are shattered. Despite the 3 large volumes of Semantography, the work is ignored.
After a few months in the ceramic factory I gave this job up and found a better one, right opposite my home at General Motors Holden. I was employed as a spot welder in the department making the famous Frigidaire refrigerator. I worked nearly 2 years at General Motors. I would cross the road to my home when work ended, would eat, have a shower and go to bed. At 6 o'clock a typist would call and take down my letters. At 9 I would go on working, and then to bed. From 1942 when the idea of Semantography got hold of me in Shanghai until 1949 when I finished my 3 books I always believed that these are my 7 lean years and that afterwards the 7 fat years of recognition would come. Alas, it was just the opposite. The first 7 years when I was full of hope and full of creative exploration, these were my 7 fat years. The years from 1949 to 1956 were the 7 lean years, in which I received one setback after the other. Slowly one hope after the other went down the drain. In 1950 I met Bertrand Russell, and then other scholars who gave me glowing testimonies which I took as the passport to heaven. But I found that Unesco and other educational institutions, that universities and schools were not the places where new ideas are fostered. On the contrary. I approached also publishers, offering to write a small book on whatever aspect they think readers would be interested. But publishers themselves were not interested. I gave a number of lectures at Sydney University and hoped that the academic world would look up and take notice. But nothing happened. Claire and I were very much downcast, but nevertheless I went on hoping. I tried to advertise correspondence courses in America, but these failed too. Interest was not available. Slowly I slithered down into hopelessness and bitterness. And then I lost my job at General Motors. There was a general recession and more than 60% of all workers were dismissed. True enough, they called me back 6 weeks later, but by that time I had found other work and I was now desperately fighting to preserve our properties that are our savings for our old age. But it was of no avail. SS 210-78
I had spent too much of my money on leaflets, brochures, and my three books. True enough I have sold these books to important libraries in the world. I have made great friends with a few scholars, notably with my best friend of them all Professor Oliver L. Reiser of the University of Pittsburgh, about whom I have written so much in other issues. My work was no crackpot idea, but it was also no means to earn our livelihood, modest as we want it. I had to work hard to regain a measure of independence, which would enable me to go on working on my Semantography and still make enough money for us two and our brain child, Semantography. It occurred to me then that I could buy a small dry cleaning business, where the work is mostly done in the morning and the evening, leaving me a number of hours where I could go on writing. (SS 210-78) .
We came to Australia to start a new life in a new and wonderful country. This alone was a source of never ending happiness. But more than that, for the first time in my life I had a small fortune to invest. I could even indulge in writing my life work for three years during which we lived on our savings and investments. Imagine three years during which I never had to go to work, never had to worry about making money or losing it, and always be at home and with Claire. These three years were surely the best of all our happy years. Moreover, this time my ambition was aroused. I was the inventor of a great scheme which really could help mankind. I am writing my books. I shall surely find acceptance and acclaim and fame and renown. I shall be immortal. What else could I do but feel elated and happy and so it was with Claire. Diligently I worked towards my aim of finding acceptance at Sydney University. When the University Extension Board honoured me with the staging of a public lecture in the greatest hall of the university, when Professor Mitchell himself agreed to be chairman, I was sure that I had gained the foothold I needed. For months I worked on my lecture day and night. I rejected and selected every word, every inflection of my speech, because this time it must be the master lecture of my life. Claire in turn wrote hundreds of invitations to people and professors, asking them to give me the honour and be present at my lecture. We both had worked ourselves into a state of high expectancy, so much so that on the day of the lecture Claire fell seriously ill. As it is often the case when you send out invitations by the hundreds, most of the recipients ignore them and throw them into the wastepaper basket. A few of them have the decency to reply, to thank for the invitation and to regret that unfortunately, they will be unable to attend for this or that reason But nevertheless they wish me all success. When dozens of such negative replies began to arrive, it was just too much for Claire. She fell ill, vomited violently and the doctor had to be called who gave her a strong sedative. Claire, who wanted so very much to sit in the front row when I am going to give the lecture of my life, Claire had to remain at home and in bed with a terrible headache, and I had to go alone to the university and deliver my lecture. This moment was the climax of our whole life, and everything depended now on the reception I would receive. (SS 210-106) .
When Professor Mitchell told me that my lecture was a great success, when students began to write about the best lecture they ever heard, I and Claire were elated. Knowing that I can make my advance only by little steps, I did not ask for a post or any remuneration, or any reward. All I asked was to be included in the list of lecturers of the University Extension Board. This list contains also people who are not members of the university staff. Moreover, some subjects are far removed from the scope of the university as for instance ballet dancing. And the purpose of the extension board was only to provide lecturers for social clubs, rotary clubs and the like should they approach the university for a lecturer. Though the lecturer gets a small fee, no salary was attached to such lecturers, and indeed it meant nothing at all, no academic recognition, etc. etc. The fact that Prof. Mitchell was chairman of the board gave me assurance that my application will be accepted. (SS 210-78) .
It was like a thunderbolt when I received a few weeks later a short letter from the secretary of the extension board that my application had been turned down. The university feels that my work Semantography is beyond the scope of the university. And that was that. I was thunderstruck. I sought an interview with Professor Mitchell who explained to me that the university can only take an interest in a new idea when a certain set of literature and enquiry had been built up around it. My idea is too new, he said. I could of course talk him down with the argument that there is a set of literature about this idea which has been built up for the last 300 years. But this would have meant that I would expose his ignorance in this matter, and this would have been deadly and really the end. I did not give up then. Prof. Mitchell advised me to go on lecturing to students and student societies, but the university as an academic body cannot give me an active hand and help. (SS 210-106) .
This was the anticlimax. This was indeed the beginning of the decline of all my hopes and all my expectations about my own future. And Claire too became very unhappy, so much so that she believed something went wrong somewhere. The idea is so good, so simple, so fascinating - imagine a writing which could be read in all languages of mankind, a writing with which people of different languages could write letters to each other and could read the very same book - this idea is indeed so good, that all the professors and all the teachers should be delighted with it and should take to it wholeheartedly. After all, professors tell all the people that they work their heads off to promote and to foster and to advance new ideas. Well, here am I with a brand-new idea, easy, simple, great, and its yours for the asking. But they didn't ask for it and they didn't want it. Surely Claire said that something went wrong. Perhaps I have not approached the professors with enough deference, perhaps I was too arrogant, or perhaps I have made other mistakes. This was heartbreaking, because I myself was tortured day and night with this question. Day and night I asked myself what I did wrong. And day and night I could not find any explanation. My despondency grew terribly, and when Claire ventured a word of criticism, it made me very much unhappy. (SS 210-106) .
As the years pass and Claire's health begins to deteriorate Charles considers different business ventures, always with an eye on having a few hours each day to work on his Semantography. To help Claire Charles needed a business where he would always be near Claire and able to help.
Since my arrival in Australia I had in mind to go into the letting business, that is a small boardinghouse with breakfast only. Such a business would enable me to stay together with Claire day and night, and at the same time would perhaps enable me to work in the morning hours on my Semantography. (SS 210-84) .
The shop (dry cleaners) sold, and our home sold, and the last property sold too. I was now ready to begin building up a new business as a boardinghouse. Here again my peculiar trend of thinking came in handy. If my Semantography proves nothing, it may prove only one thing, that I am a thinker who thinks in unorthodox terms, and who is prepared to find the disadvantages in things in use and generally accepted, and who is therefore ready for new ideas which may be contrary to the common ideas accepted by the herd (including the herd in the universities).(SS 210-85) .
We had talked often about death, and we were sensible about it. We had our will made since 1946 and we had altered it according to our altered decisions. In 1958 we made our last will. I had met a very fine man, solicitor Mr. R. H. Boyt and we became great friends. He was and still is one of the few men who appreciate me as a man and as a scholar. We often had discussions about many things and sometimes we invited each other for lunch whenever I came to town to see him. The terrible experiences I had with the many professors and universities who would not take kindly to my Semantography simply because it was a new and unorthodox idea convinced us, that the best we could do to safeguard our brainchild was to make provisions in our will that when we both are dead then the house shall be sold and from the proceedings my 3 books shall be printed in at least 1000 sets and these should be distributed to the thousand most important libraries of the world. My brother Henry should act as Mr. Boyt’s assistant in carrying this our will through and he should be rewarded properly for this. Should one of us die first then the other should remain in the possession of the house and the business and only after the death of the second partner should the house be sold and the books be printed and distributed. We were both satisfied that this is the best we can do and this arrangement made us feel that all the labour I had put into the writing of my books and the working out of the whole system will not be in vain. Sooner or later such symbols will be in common use, and sooner or later a young researcher will find my books in his library and go forth where I have left off. All my life I wanted to do something for humanity and Claire was always understanding and agreed to every expenditure and every work I did in this direction.(SS 210-90) .
And then came Claire's first heart attack. It was a terrible shock to both of us. Now I realized that I cannot spend a penny more on Semantography. I had to work for Claire and to make her healthy again. Claire however was in her 71th year. She realized that this first attack is only the beginning of the End. For her, the breakdown of her physical body signaled the end. For me, the breakdown of my spiritual body (so to speak) signaled the end too. I realized that I shall not see my idea come to fruition, that I shall not see the day when it will be taught in the schools of the world. These two realizations made Claire and me very unhappy indeed. Of course, we kept it to ourselves, but we knew that all our hopes for recognition and renown are gone for good. Naturally, if two old people come to this conclusion, the deep unhappiness which envelopes their subconscious will sometimes come through in a little irritation. However, such irritations were never so great as to lead to angry words, but we felt that all we can do now is to make the best of our remaining years. We both are optimistic people, and we both know the secret of how to be happy with the life fate has given us.(SS 210-107) .
I had begun a study of the lives of innovators and of the failures they encountered during their lifetime. I have found that their worst enemies were the orthodox experts in the universities and the schoo1s. Out of this recognition of the real obstacles to new ideas I had begun to write a bitter attack on the professorial experts of mankind, who prevent improvements for the. human race during the life of the men who bring up the new ideas. They may be outsiders of universities, but they may be professors themselves , black sheep whose ideas are laughed at by their learned colleagues. Almost every, week there were reviews and articles in the papers and magazines, and each time I found a story of how innovators of new ideas were persecuted by the professors. I showed this to Claire. She was not convinced however, and she even refused to read those writings of mine in which I attacked the professors. “It will do you no good!” she said. But what good can I expect now, I asked back, what good than to realize that I have a job on hand: to convince mankind that their best sons, the innovators of new ideas for the betterment of mankind, are not helped by the professional experts in the universities. On the contrary, these enemies of progress do everything they can to hasten the death of the innovator. Claire was always impressed when I showed her another article in the magazines about the life of an innovator, but, as some of my friends too believe, these were the bad old days. Today we are living in an enlightened age and if Bliss cannot get recognition for his work then he himself must be blamed. Such thoughts made me extremely unhappy. But it took me usually half an hour or so to get over such unhappiness and to concentrate again cheerfully on the task before me whatever it may be. And Claire too was cheerful in all she did, and forgot whatever thoughts had caused her some pain. (SS 210-108) .