by Edith Cody-Rice
Canadian history is full of the untold stories of social transformers whose influence extended far beyond their own lives. The Mind Mappers by Eric Andrew-Gee celebrates just such individuals in his new book The Mind Mappers. The story concerns the founders of the world renowned Montreal Neurological Institute and its golden era of research and discovery. The most prominent of the founders, Wilder Penfield, is known to current generations of Canadians through a Heritage Minute, broadcast in the 1990’s, that showed Penfield probing the brain of a patient who suddenly exclaims “I can smell burnt toast”. The story behind that Heritage Minute is a fascinating tale of two American neurologists who met while practising in New York City. Their backgrounds were eerily similar. Both were mid western Americans from strong medical families who were raised by single mothers in modest circumstances.
Wilder Penfield was the elder, a Rhodes Scholar, charismatic elegant and smooth. The doctor who became his partner was Dr. William Cone, a shy man and superb neurosurgeon, obsessed with the brain since medical school. He became Penfield’s acolyte. As a team they began to make a reputation for themselves in a field marked largely by ignorance and rather brutal treatments.
In 1927, Canadian surgeon Edward Archibald recruited Penfield to the Royal Victoria Hospital in Montreal with a promise of research facilities and other attractive amenities. Penfield accepted on condition that his “undivorceable colleague” William Cone be brought to Montreal with him. Cone, already establishing a reputation in his own right, gave up lucrative opportunities to accompany Penfield to Canada. The pair wanted to work together to further research and treatment of the brain. In 1934, their dream came to fruition with the establishment of the Montreal Neurological Institute, the Neuro as it is known, which combined the medical disciplines that investigate and treat the brain. It was a perfect partnership: Penfield the risk taker, dreamer and expert in fundraising and administration; Cone, the pragmatist, publicity shy partner who concentrated on improving the day to day vital functions of the institute that made it a safe and desirable place to be treated. Together and individually, they accomplished miracles. Penfield probed the brain to map out its functions; Cone improved and refined hygiene and surgical techniques on both the brain and spine which made surgery safe and infection free.
But there was another dimension to their partnership: love. The men loved each other, but in a different way. They ended their correspondence with each other with the sign-off “love”. Both men were married, Penfield happily with a large family; Cone, unhappily with no children. It appears that Penfield’s love was that of a colleague who appreciated the productive partnership and perhaps felt a brotherly affection. Cone’s love was more romantic. Other elements of his relationships with his students and particularly with one orderly suggest that he was a homosexual at a time when homosexuality was illegal in Canada. That may partly explain why he stuck at Penfield’s side when much more lucrative and attractive opportunities were offered to him on the basis of his excellence as a surgeon. Nothing physical is every suggested in Cone’s conduct but his attraction to other men is unmistakable.
Whatever the reasons, the partnership was extraordinarily productive and, on such issues as hiring without regard to anything other than talent, not race, gender or nationality, they were in accord.
The beginning of a crisis between the men occurred when Cone, in 1940, was made the head of a wartime front line neurological institute in Britain. There he headed a hospital larger than the Neuro and was hailed as the foremost neurosurgeon in the land. His success changed the dynamic in the relationship with Penfield. He was no longer the junior partner and on return to Canada insisted on equal pay in the private practice they had established in Montreal. Up until then, not only was Penfield paid more than twice as much as Cone at the Neuro, but Cone was significantly disadvantaged in the partnership share of the private practice.
The two men increasingly practised separately as the Neuro grew and the crisis finally came to a head when Penfield, without consulting or even notifying Cone, decided to retire and set up an outside committee to choose his successor as head of the Neuro. Cone was interviewed (the first he heard of Penfield’s retirement plans was when he was contacted for an interview) but was not chosen as head of the institute that he cofounded. From this time on, Cone lost heart and seemed increasingly lost in overwork and depression. Finally, he committed suicide, a fact hidden until Penfield’s grandson revealed it in 1981. Cone’s many former students, who loved him for his extreme dedication to work and his kindness, were devastated. Penfield too, never recovered from the loss of his partner.
But it is Penfield’s vision that put the Neuro on the map for posterity. His development of the Montreal Procedure for the treatment of temporal lobe epilepsy was adopted worldwide and has made the Neuro the preeminent treatment centre for epilepsy.
After Penfield’s and Cone’s exit, the Neuro seemed to pass from its golden age, due to a number of factors, not least the visionary work of these two. The publicity shy Cone who was a man of action, who hated writing or doing anything to secure his reputation for posterity but wanted only to care for his patients, has been lost in the story of the Neuro. Cone once told a former student who was setting up his own practice to be the composer, not the performer, an allusion to the role played by Penfield and Cone. Cone’s name is not even included in the brief history of the Neuro on its website.
Although Penfield is admirable and brilliant, he comes off as a self-centred, self-regarding individual who saw Cone as a uncomplaining, hardworking subordinate. Certainly there is no evidence that he ever recognized Cone’s romantic interest in him. His anguished cry “how could he do this to me” after Cone’s death reveal a self centredness that marked their relationship.
Cone is revealed, to me, as the better man: a dedicated doctor, loyal, devoted to his patients, kind and self effacing. Both were necessary to the success of the Neuro and Eric Andrew-Gee has restored Cone to his rightful place in the history of the institution.
A fascinating tale, well told.
Published by Random House Canada
360 pages
Available at Mill Street Books in Almonte
Eric Andrew- Gee will be appearing at the Almonte Library on Thursday June 5, 6:30-8pm
Registration is required at www.missmillslibrary.com
