December 11, 2009
Kay Redfield Jamison's memoir, Nothing Was The Same, is a deeply-personal and heart-felt homage to her husband, Richard Wyatt. Wyatt died of cancer in 2002. Jamison recounts stories from their almost twenty years together, years of love, support, passion, and understanding. Their marriage, childless and focused on both work and on remaining mentally stable (Jamison is bi-polar) and healthy (Wyatt had Hodgkins disease as a young man), seemed to have been a good one.
Redfield writes with a clinical clarity about very messy emotions and situations. At times, I found the tone off-putting but at other times, I found Redfield's writing quite compelling: "Depression, less comprehensible than grief, does not elicit the same ritual kindness from others. Human nature keeps us at a greater distance from those who are depressed than from those who grieve....It is our human nature to extend tolerance and time toward those who are weary and confused while grieving: the loss is known, the emotions understood." I agree: when someone is depressed, solutions are offered more than sympathy. And yet what of the time limits society imposes on grief? Or the pariah-aspect of the grievers? There are many people who do not want to acknowledge death and will avoid anyone who has suffered a loss -- or who continues to suffer beyond the acceptable time period. Redfield is lucky to be in a field and among friends who do not impose the "put on a happy face" rule of survival. She herself understands that "mourning is ... a natural part of life, not a pathological state" and she allows herself to grieve.
Redfield's approach to the life and death of her husband is colored both by her identity as a scientist and her diagnosis as bi-polar: the stories are anecdotal proof, gathered to document their life together, and the underlining thread is her struggle, day in and day out, to remain stable and even and in control. Control is the key word here: this is a memoir that can seem almost cold at times for its lack of full-blown emotion. Yet for a person always fearful of tipping over into insanity, Redfield's willingness to go into the dark parts of life -- the sadness and grief -- is to be admired. In the end, Redfield offers convincing and moving proof that she loved her husband very much, and that she will miss his love, his support, and his unique outlook on life and all its wonders.
Per FTC rules, the book I review here was a review copy supplied by the publisher.
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