Review by Booklist Review
Among mental illnesses, clinical depression seems one of the least understood. It is the real "closet" disease that can and does keep many of its sufferers hidden from public view and often from help as well. With suicide on the rise, especially among young adults and the elderly, it behooves us all to take a look at this disease from the view of those who know it well--the depressed and their caregivers. The writers in this collection are the ideal group to describe the psychological pain that makes the simple acts of daily living seem insurmountable. Larry McMurtry recounts that after quadruple bypass surgery he lost the ability to read for simple pleasure. In an excerpt from Darkness Visible, William Styron has a problem with the very word depression, preferring the "melancholia" that haunts his novels, such as Sophie's Choice. Rose Styron then describes what it is like to live with someone who is under a constant cloud. And A. Alvarez's excerpt from The Savage God reminds us that to many depressives death seems the surest cure. He says, "I have to admit that I am a failed suicide." The book ends with the paired entries of two sisters, Nell and Maud Casey. Nell is an uneasy witness to Maud's struggles with maniac depression and many institutionalizations. Then Maud herself provides a knowledgeable if heartbreaking tour in and out of the grips of deep depression. These vivid, readable essays will provide insight to depression sufferers, mates, and caregivers. --Marlene Chamberlain
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
The recipient of a Carter Center fellowship for mental health journalism, Casey has compiled a widely varied collection in which authors reckon with their personal experience of depression the "unholy ghost" to which poet Jane Kenyon famously referred. Well-known writers such as Donald Hall and Ann Beattie rub shoulders with talented newcomers like Maud Casey and Joshua Wolf Shenk in pieces that alternate between startling eloquence and the kind of vague, self-indulgent writing that turns some readers away from memoirs. Lee Stringer concludes her contribution with the revelation that "perhaps what we call depression isn't really a disorder at all, but an alarm of sorts, alerting us that something is undoubtedly wrong," while Lesley Dormen resorts to cliches ("My heart pumped dread"). Among the most engaging essays are Rose Styron's response to husband William Styron's Darkness Visible, in which she writes about comic moments that her husband, in the throes of depression, was too blue to appreciate. Responding to spouse Chase Twichell's essay, novelist Russell Banks writes that he has "learned to feel for my wife and to avoid feeling with her." As a whole, the collection is a valuable contribution to the field of depression studies, and will lend some insight and cheer to those struggling with this little-understood condition. (Mar.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by Library Journal Review
This anthology will never earn a spot in library "Fast Fun Reads" displays, but given the number of people who suffer from depression and those who live with or love them, it probably deserves a place on most library shelves. Editor Casey has pulled together 22 contemporary pieces, some previously published, from different voices and perspectives, all trying to understand this devastating but elusive illness. The names you would expect are here: William Styron, Jane Kenyon, Susannah Kaysen, and Larry McMurtry, among others, with an introduction by Kay Redfield Jamison. Of particular interest are the companion pieces: Donald Hall's take on his wife, Jane Kenyon; Rose Styron on her husband; Russell Banks on his wife, Chase Twitchell; and editor Casey on her sister Maud. The dual perspective of experienced and witnessed depression is enlightening and at times frightening. Perhaps this volume should come with a warning label, for surely reading about depression can be depressing. The best of these pieces, though, like Kenyon's poems and William Styron's excerpt, overcome that pitfall with the power of their art. Recommended for public libraries. Mary Paumier Jones, Westminster P.L., CO (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review
An uneven collection of 22 essays and excerpts on the subject of depression by a wide assortment of writers. Mental-health journalist Casey has assembled quite an array of luminariesfrom the quasars (William Styron, Larry McMurtry, Ann Beattie) to the lesser-known, and (in some sad cases) feebler lights. Among them they manage to cast considerable light on this dark disease, revealing vast dimensions that far surpass the ability of a single word to encompass it. Many confess they have no real idea of the source of their disease. (David Karp concludes that it arises out of an enormously complicated, constantly shifting, elusive concatenation of circumstance, temperament, and biochemistry.) Some are grateful for anti-depressant drugs; others rail against them. Some rage against psychiatric hospitals and grave treatments (like electroconvulsive therapy, or ECT), but Martha Manning calls ECT the tractor that pulled me out of the mud. Not unexpectedly, the principal adornments are those supplied by Russell Banks (who writes with compassion and eloquence about his wifes depression), Larry McMurtry (whose personal experiences chronicled here appeared in fictional form in his Duane Is Depressed), William Styron (who observes that the illness only virtueif such a sanguine word be aptis that it can be conquered), and Donald Hall (whose loving words for his late wife, the poet Jane Kenyon, are almost unbearably poignant). Casey has employed an interesting device of juxtaposition: Chase Twichell (wife of Russell Banks) writes about her lifelong loneliness; Styrons wife writes about her coping with his illness; editor Casey herself writes about her sisters depressionand then novelist Maud Casey ends her sisters collection with the observation that, finally, it is practicality that holds her to the earth. There is at times a redundancy to the volume (more than one writer teaches us about serotonin), but there are quiet surprises, toolike Meri Nana-Ama Danquahs luminous essay about being black, and being depressed. Administer in small doses at sensible intervalsor expect a serious side-effect: depression.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
