The beginning scene of My Brother’s Madness occurs in 1985. The subsequent chapters fluctuate from nearly present time (in italics) to the childhood history era of the two main characters (in regular font). I begin with this description because I very much appreciate having some tell-tale way of differentiating between past and present. Without a visual cue, it usually takes multiple sentences before I understand in which decade the passage is set. Very few authors are able to carry off this distinction in a way that is easy for the reader to grasp, so any additional assistance is much appreciated.
This is a true story of a man, Claude, who is diagnosed with late-onset paranoid schizophrenia and the impact of this illness on the life of his brother, Paul. While reading through the childhood history of both men, it strikes the reader as remarkable that either of them survived to adulthood.
The family dysfunction and the emotional/physical abuse through which they endure are very difficult to bear at times. While reading, I found myself trying to diagnose first their mother, then their father. I came to the conclusion that this family makes a great case for the nature-nurture debate. The genetic predisposition for mental illness is present, in addition to a decided lack of nurturance.
There is nothing “normal” about the way they are raised. However, as in most families with severe dysfunction, the children grow to have tight bonds that sometimes chafe. The boys become very close while weathering the storms of anger and intense emotions that permeate their home. The children are pitted against each other: good versus bad, with the “bad” child being the narrator in the first half and his brother in the second half. The love-hate between the boys is not fully realized by them until they are in their 40s.
At times, I began to wonder which brother was going to have the “diagnosed” illness because they both seemed so ill; one with mental anguish and the other with sociopathy. However, we find out that Claude becomes paranoid and delusional, and Paul is the only person available to ensure that Claude receives the treatment he needs. The most amazing coincidence is that Claude’s paranoid delusions are based in the reality of being accused twice for crimes he did not commit.
Article comments
1 - Natalie Bennett
This article has been selected for syndication to Advance.net , which is affiliated with newspapers around the United States, and to Boston.com. Nice work!
2 - Harold A. Maio
This memoir is written to prove that someone with a mental illness is truly no different than those of us walking around without that label.
"Label" is often misemployed when writing about mental illnesses. They are diagnoses.
As much as the sentence intends caring, and that is appreciated, it is overbroad. Are we truly no different than people without a mental illness. Largely, not entirely.
Those without have won the Nobel, we have too. Those without have won the Pulitzer, we have too. Those without have earned millions. We have too. Those without have committed murder. We have too. Those without are homeless, We are too.
I guess we have a lot in common. In one area we differ: You stereotype us, we do not stereotype you.
Harold A. Maio
Advisory Board
American Journal of Psychiatric Rehabilitation
Board Member
Partners in Crisis
Former Consulting Editor
Psychiatric Rehabilitation Journal
Boston University
Language Consultant
UPENN Collaborative on Community Integration
of Individuals with Psychiatric Disabilities
[Personal contact info deleted]
3 - alexandria jackson
I've been immersed in the Recovery model and a long-time advocate for dropping MI labels because I don't believe in them, much like T. Szasz.
I guess this proves I don't write well if I somehow I managed to perpetuate a stereotype or to offend someone with an overbroad sentence about how those with a diagnosed MI are no different than those without. Because that was furthest from my intentions. Reminds me of having written my dissertation on how not to perpetuate racism and getting called a racist....
Cool about the syndication!
4 - Paul Pines
It is always nice to have one's book reviewed by a passionate critic who may or may not be on point but cares about the subject. Such I judge Ms. Jackson to be. But while her review of my book, My Brother's Madness, makes some cogent points, I would take issue with her representation of the degree of dysfunction I portray. Recall how Freud had to pull back from his "Incest Theory" because of such cultural fearfulness that projects one's own shadow. I would also point out that it is unlikely this book could have been written by a "sociopath". Not might a sociopath survive a war zone, own and operate a jazz club, teach college literature and go on to become a therapist. At least that is unlikely. Such diagnostic labels should be precise. I think there is some dissonance here. Sincerely, Paul Pines, the author of "My Brother's Madness."
5 - Paul Pines
My wife asks me to add an addenda to my earlier blog entry and correct my last sentence, which should read, "It is not likely that a sociopath might....etc." She asks me to add, and this might be of greater weight than any of the above, it is unlikely that a sociopath might be blessed with a loving marriage of twenty-five years or raise a terrific daughter who is thriving at the age of twenty-one. My book is about the opening of the heart, hardly a theme for sociopaths. All best, Paul Pines
6 - alexandria jackson
I'm flattered you took the time to reply. I beg your pardon for the implication that you are CUREENTLY a sociopath. I was actually referring to when you were describing your childhood and at that time I did not know which brother would ultimately carry the diagnosis. I refer to the stealing, truancy, drug and alcohol use and general boyish trouble-making you reported when you were YOUNG and called yourself the "bad" son. That was then, this is now. Still, I do apologize. Of course you're not a sociopath.
If you permit though, I did have a question for you and didn't think I'd have the opportunity to find the answer.. How did you forgive your mother enough to name your daughter after her? That came as quite a surprise to me.
7 - Paul Pines
Hi, Alexandria--thank you for the clarification. It was really rather shocking to hear my boyish behavior, the protests of a rebellious kid, referred to as sociopathic. Young sociopaths, who grow up to become serial killers, torture animals and set fires. My behavior, like that of so many kids from dysfunctional families, many of whom I work with, was a fire alarm. A wake up call to those around me to a fire I did not set. As for naming my daughter after my mother, I was happy to do so. I value much of what my mother gave me--a love for poetry, the sense of life as an exploration, a journey toward understanding; a deep sense of humor and the absurd, as well as a desire for social justice. In my daughter, some of those wonderful qualities that were traumatized in my mother, have another chance to realize themselves. I hope this makes sense to you. Besides, I believe we all deserve another chance. My best to you. And thanks for taking the time to work with my material. Paul
8 - alexandria jackson
Again, thank you for the reply. You express yourself so beautifully. Thank you for helping me to understand.
Best wishes to you and your family.
AJ
9 - Paul Pines
Thank you for your openness. I am touched by it. Best to you. Paul
10 - christine
Serial killers rarely fight with mental illness. I remember reading a book where the author was irritatingly sidestepping his original theme to give details of sex criminals perversions - this sewer-wallowing was excused, when he blamed mentally ill from everything in life. And horror genre is a cesspool of vilifying mentally ill.
11 - Pam Smith
I found My Brother’s Madness to be an extraordinary book. Loving and inclusively loving.
One of the things I have found about what we call mental illness is that often, those who are diagnosed with it tend to irritate, or be identified as the source of irritation, to others. Paul Pines’ book shows that when we go past the messages of the irritated voices of blame and failure, we often find rare perceptions that are lovely, valuable, clear and true.
I am also a writer and a psychotherapist. So much of what I do is listening- to what is said, how it is said, what is not said, how it is not said, attending to the voice of the person who is sitting with me, giving permission to and welcoming that voice.
I would not have picked up this book on my own- the subject matter is far too close to home for me. And I am accustomed to having my experiences with a beloved sibling who lived with mental illness misunderstood and unintentionally trivialized by caring others. But Beth Leonard at Gulf of Maine Books in Brunswick, Maine loaned me the book, and I set about to give it a try.
I found Paul Pines describing some of the same crevasses, utterly uncrossable, that I experienced with my younger brother. He describes these defining places with respect and humility. Because of this I could reexperience some of the wonder and trueness of my brother.