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Arts Culture

Mastering the mind

“Minds are different and healing them is likewise so,” writes Kay Redfield Jamison in her latest book, Fires in the Dark: Healing the Unquiet Mind. She adds, “It is the healer’s order to restore the mind to soundness: to repair and mend it, to pry it from disease, to reassemble.” These are the seeds from which this book grows, through which Jamison formulates and explores multifaceted questions about society, trauma, recovery, and the people who work tirelessly to help us better understand the full range of human experience, from melancholy to mania. But rather than writing an overly clinical book about mental health and best practices for treatment, Jamison shares a sociocultural history of healing, a celebration of the mind in joy as well as in darkness. 

Influenced by the author’s work as the Dalio Professor in Mood Disorders and a professor of psychiatry at the Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine, as well as her experiences as a psychiatric patient, Fires in the Dark is deeply personal yet expansive. Building on Jamison’s previous book—An Unquiet Mind, a memoir exploring the author’s experiences with bipolar disorder—Fires in the Dark also touches on her time at the Esalen Institute and undergoing lithium treatment, as well as her corresponding professional journey in psychopathology and psychopharmacology. However, framed by an in-depth examination of the mental health implications of World War I, the book takes a more holistic view of healing practices and the people who serve as guides in the recovery journey, which Jamison describes as “a reflection on healing the mind … an archipelago of thoughts, experiences, and images.” Deeply researched sections celebrate healers across history, attempting to unpack their personal and professional qualities—“A healer should be a refuge”—and approaches to care that resonate over time and reveal something intrinsic about human nature.

The scope is outstanding, ranging from Robert Falcon Scott’s expedition to the South Pole in 1910 to the burning of Notre Dame Cathedral in 2019 and covering World War I from inception to armistice, including in-depth accounts of the lives of Sir William Osler, considered a “father of modern medicine,” and W.H.R. Rivers, a doctor, psychologist, and anthropologist whose notable work included treating soldiers for shell shock—what we now know as post-traumatic stress disorder. Woven in across sections are quotes, experiences, and insights from household names in psychiatry and poetry—Carl Jung, Sigmund Freud, W. B. Yeats, Elizabeth Bishop—alongside names that are likely less familiar, such as psychiatrist Anthony Storr, 19th-century mental illness expert Daniel Hack Tuke, and Scottish poet Douglas Dunn.

Jamison also undertakes a condensed history of psychotherapeutics, from magicians and priests to electroconvulsive therapy and techniques that remain experimental today, such as ketamine and psilocybin. Alongside a list of ancient medicinal remedies that reads like poetry, she examines Greek and Egyptian healing practices, including sleep temples that “served as hospitals, sanctuaries, and centers for purification.” From ancient Egyptian physician Imhotep to Greek god of medicine Asclepius and Greek physician and herbalist Crateuas, Jamison celebrates some of the healers who laid the groundwork for modern medicine, noting, “Ways to heal the mind go back unimaginably far in human history.”

Throughout, the author’s probing attention to history and the human mind makes for a rewarding read. Seemingly disparate topics are united by repeated refrains, connective tissue that coalesces in stories of healing and guidance for those seeking to recover from trauma. “It is difficult to accept, but pain is essential to healing,” is one such refrain that Jamison uses; so too, the idea that work can be a balm to the healing mind. Imagination, creativity, and artistic self-expression are also returned to often, through extensive examples of the congruence of poetry and pathology and also as exemplified in the lives of singer, activist, and athlete Paul Robeson as well as writers such as Ursula K. Le Guin and Lewis Carroll. 

Perhaps the most interesting part of the book is found in the latter, this celebration of imagination and reading—and the psychotherapeutic benefits of both. Jamison writes, “Both writing and psychotherapy create stories from the material of life. … Whether told to a therapist or created by a writer, stories give form to the inchoate and construct a path out of confusion and pain.” 

Inviting the reader on a journey back to childhood, she skillfully conjures the awe and wonder of children’s literature, complete with quests calling for courageous feats and the lessons learned along the way. From The Once and Future King to Mary Poppins and Peter Pan, she contends, “Writers show us ways to field anxiety, face adversity, and take delight in living.” While the examples used could be updated to reflect more diverse writers and stories, the message resonates nonetheless: Through stories, we come to know ourselves and the world, but we also learn valuable tools for mapping new stories—whether in response to a changing world or healing from the traumas that we experience in it. She argues that stories and imagination are tools for recovery that also teach us how to be more resilient going forward. 

Reflecting the same passion and intensity that she clearly embraced in researching and writing this book—that can be felt with every turn of the page when reading it—Jamison writes, “One should be passionate in dealing with life: grapple with it, know it, and master it. Passion and knowledge protect.”

By Sarah Lawson

Sarah has lived in Charlottesville since 2002 - long enough to consider herself a local. In addition to graduating from UVa and co-founding The Bridge Film Series, she has worn a variety of hats including book designer, documentary film curator, animal caretaker, and popcorn maker. The opinions here are completely her own and unassociated with her work at Piedmont Council for the Arts (PCA). Sarah's interests include public art, experimental films, travel, and design.