Remembering Roy Huss

Because Roy Huss was above all a gentle, kind, unassuming, and yet highly accomplished person, it is particularly important for me that his humane way of living be remembered more vividly than his inhumane death, and that the values he honored be set off against a largely self-seeking, blatantly materialistic society. Professionally, Roy inhabited, contributed to, and enriched a multiplicity of fields. He was a professor of English and a pioneer scholar of film studies; he was both a writer and an editor; as the founder of his own journal, he generated new talent and new ideas; finally, as a psychoanalytic therapist, he was committed to emotional and mental well-being on a practical basis.

While I owe Roy a permanent debt of gratitude for his encouragement of my scholarship and for his consistent support over several years, it is the loss of a good, loyal, and decent friend that I feel most deeply. On my periodic visits to New York, Roy would always put me up, serve a meal or two, and join me for whatever experimental play or new film looked interesting. We certainly became good companions over the years and came to share a stake in each other's life. Last December, I stayed with Roy again while attending the American Psychoanalytic meetings. One evening he was taking his playwriting class from Queen's College to see an Oriental rendition of a Sam Spade drama at Asia House. He invited me to come along, and I was impressed to find that not only was he devoting a night to his students, but that he was taking care of their tickets. He even seemed surprised when I called attention to such dedication. During the intermission, he talked about the play with the students, looked over one of their scripts, and was generally—characteristically—helpful and supportive. That is how I shall remember this sensitive, caring person long after I have mourned the loss of a close friend. And so I hope that all of us who knew Roy in one of his many capacities may now try to take some con