We’ve finally arrived at the end of my absurdly long review of The Noonday Demon.  Andrew Solomon’s chapter entitled Evolution was very interesting to me, irrespective of whether I disagreed with all of it or not (“agreement” was really not the point here), and would make a great stand-alone essay to encourage people to think differently/in a multi-faceted way about depression.  The chapter is a relatively neutral discussion on different theories of the origin of depression attempting to get at any useful function it might have.  But he freely admits, towards the end of the book, that he basically only wrote about people he liked (429), as if it is self-evident why such a thing should just be readily accepted (from a person who claims to do exhaustive journalistic research, no less!).  But, if, as he claims, “writing is an act of social responsibility” (428), then writing about people you admire is biased (at best) and thus not all that responsible.  Simply admitting your bias doesn’t excuse you from responsibility.  Writing about people you like is much easier than writing about people you don’t like and admitting to doing the former is, to me, basically saying you’ve purposefully written a lop-sided, half-told story.  No one can see all angles but it doesn’t make sense to me to claim to be nobly taking up your duty to society by writing while simultaneously ignoring people because you didn’t like them as if your personal preferences are the gold-standard measure of a human being. (more…)

When Andrew Solomon writes that people “attribute their pain to external factors” (347), sometimes they’re right, poor or not.  I’m highly skeptical of this idea that the problem is always internal; claiming that changing the internal will change the external is usually true but we also need to be very careful (a lot more careful than Solomon was, in my opinion) not to start blaming the victim since that’s where this line of thinking can go all to easily.  One thing I will agree with, though, is that “we have been trying to solve the problem of poverty by material intervention at least since biblical times and have in the last decade tired of such intervention, realizing that money is not a sufficient antidote” (360).  What is?  These people, part of the “When Helping Hurts” team have some ideas. (more…)

Continuing with my thoughts on Andrew Solomon’s The Noonday Demon, he dismisses “chronic poisoning” too easily in the “Alternatives” chapter; it’s not just one’s house that may or may not harbor harmful off-gassing and poisons, we are pumping the air, soil, water, food (GMOs anyone?) full of toxins and foreign substances.  Even if you do manage to live in a relatively clean home, you cannot avoid the relentless deluge of chemicals and poisons rampant in our world (and their constant mismanagement by the government).  He also claims, “If you have depression and try an exotic treatment and think you are better, then you are better” (137).  This can lapse into blaming the victim: all you have to do is think you are better and you are better!  If you’re better, it’s because you don’t think you are, as if depression does not drastically affect how you think in the first place.  But what qualifies Solomon to make such statements as, “Depression is a disease of thought processes and emotions, and if something changes in your thought processes and emotions in the correct direction, that qualifies as a recovery” (137)?  Not only does this again reinforce the idea that people who are depressed are so because they want to  be (especially without further specification on what *causes* disordered thought processes), but do we know enough about depression to definitively make such statements?  What of otherwise happy people who report being “suddenly struck” with a depression, like Frank on page 162?  Also, what is the “correct” direction?  Is hopelessness in the face of helplessness at a world thoroughly destroying itself an “incorrect” response?  Why all this pressure to be constantly happy?  Later he writes, “depression is a bodily affliction and the physical helps” (141).  Well, which is it: a thought disorder or a physical disease?  Not that the two are necessarily mutually exclusive but it’s not clear if Solomon conceptualizes it as both. (more…)

Perhaps it was because I just happened to be in the middle of this book when Robin William’s died (and thus, there was much talk of “battling demons”) but I had some difficulty with this book, so my review is going to span four posts.  Mental illness is an issue that I care very much about, which is why I’m bothering to spend the next two weeks discussing this book and putting off my next series. Let’s dive in:  There were parts that were insightful, thought-provoking and funny.  There were other parts that were, in my opinion, offensive, contradictory reinforcing of painful stereotypes that are hindering our society in moving forward on caring for those who struggle with mental illness.  I’ll start where Solomon starts: the title.  He explains his choice of “the noonday demon” on page 293; but I still find it lacking.  Do we say that cancer patients are afflicted with “tumor demons?” Not only is such talk trivializing a very real, very dangerous illness, but it’s totally inaccurate medically (and at least over simplistic spiritually) and prevents people from seeking and/or receiving appropriate help. (more…)