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ظلام مرئي: مذكرات الجنون
«واحد من أفضل 100 كتاب في التاريخ»
- «مودرن لايبرري»
«تقشعر له الأبدان، لكنه مفعم بالأمل... منير... ساحر»
- «شيكاجو صن-تايمز»
«آسر... مروع... صورة حية لاضطراب منهك... يوفر العزاء لتجربة مشتركة»
- «نيويورك تايمز»
في صيف عام 1985، أحس الروائي الأمريكي الشهير «وليام ستايرون» بالشلل، من جراء مشاعر السخط، والاستياء، واللامبالاة، واليأس، وفقدان القدرة على الكلام والمشي، التي تملَّكته حينما سقط في قبضة اكتئاب متقدم، ابتلع حياته وتركه على حافة الانتحار.
في هذه المذكرات المبهرة، يصف الروائي الكبير هبوطه المدمِّر في الكآبة، فيأخذنا في رحلة غير مسبوقة إلى عالم الجنون، مليئة بتأملات كاشفة لمرضٍ يصيب الملايين، لكن ما زال يُساء فهمه على نطاق واسع. هذا النص المؤثر والشجاع، الذي ترجمه بتمكُّن أنور الشامي، هو صورة حميمة لعذاب «ستايرون» في محنته وفي سبيله إلى التعافي.
وليام ستايرون (1925-2006) روائي وكاتب مقالات أمريكي، نال العديد من الجوائز عن كتبه، مثل جائزة «بولتزر»، وجائزة الكتاب الأمريكي. اشتهرت رواياته بإثارة الجدل، من أهمها: «أرقد في الظلام» التي نشرها وهو في السادسة والعشرين من عمره، و«اعترافات نات تيرنر»، و«خيار صوفي» التي مُنعت في عدة دول، وأيضًا في بعض المدارس الأمريكية، وتحولت إلى فيلم سينمائي ناجح من إخراج «ألان باكولا»، فازت عنه «ميريل ستريب» بجائزة أوسكار أفضل ممثلة، و«ظلام مرئي» الذي يُعد سيرته الذاتية عن إصابته بالاكتئاب، وكيف استطاع الشفاء منه. أصبح هذا الكتاب - صغير الحجم - أهم أعماله وأشهرها وأكثرها تأثيرًا، كما ساهم بشدة في التوعية بمرض الاكتئاب.
- «مودرن لايبرري»
«تقشعر له الأبدان، لكنه مفعم بالأمل... منير... ساحر»
- «شيكاجو صن-تايمز»
«آسر... مروع... صورة حية لاضطراب منهك... يوفر العزاء لتجربة مشتركة»
- «نيويورك تايمز»
في صيف عام 1985، أحس الروائي الأمريكي الشهير «وليام ستايرون» بالشلل، من جراء مشاعر السخط، والاستياء، واللامبالاة، واليأس، وفقدان القدرة على الكلام والمشي، التي تملَّكته حينما سقط في قبضة اكتئاب متقدم، ابتلع حياته وتركه على حافة الانتحار.
في هذه المذكرات المبهرة، يصف الروائي الكبير هبوطه المدمِّر في الكآبة، فيأخذنا في رحلة غير مسبوقة إلى عالم الجنون، مليئة بتأملات كاشفة لمرضٍ يصيب الملايين، لكن ما زال يُساء فهمه على نطاق واسع. هذا النص المؤثر والشجاع، الذي ترجمه بتمكُّن أنور الشامي، هو صورة حميمة لعذاب «ستايرون» في محنته وفي سبيله إلى التعافي.
وليام ستايرون (1925-2006) روائي وكاتب مقالات أمريكي، نال العديد من الجوائز عن كتبه، مثل جائزة «بولتزر»، وجائزة الكتاب الأمريكي. اشتهرت رواياته بإثارة الجدل، من أهمها: «أرقد في الظلام» التي نشرها وهو في السادسة والعشرين من عمره، و«اعترافات نات تيرنر»، و«خيار صوفي» التي مُنعت في عدة دول، وأيضًا في بعض المدارس الأمريكية، وتحولت إلى فيلم سينمائي ناجح من إخراج «ألان باكولا»، فازت عنه «ميريل ستريب» بجائزة أوسكار أفضل ممثلة، و«ظلام مرئي» الذي يُعد سيرته الذاتية عن إصابته بالاكتئاب، وكيف استطاع الشفاء منه. أصبح هذا الكتاب - صغير الحجم - أهم أعماله وأشهرها وأكثرها تأثيرًا، كما ساهم بشدة في التوعية بمرض الاكتئاب.
128 pages, Paperback
First published September 4, 1990
About the author
William Styron
101 books852 followersWilliam Styron (1925–2006), born in Newport News, Virginia, was one of the greatest American writers of his generation. Styron published his first book, Lie Down in Darkness, at age twenty-six and went on to write such influential works as the controversial and Pulitzer Prize–winning The Confessions of Nat Turner and the international bestseller Sophie’s Choice.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 2,908 reviews
April 21, 2018
This very small volume was not an easy read. Mr. Styron eases us into his own story by relating stories of other writers and artists who experienced deep depression. Some made it through but most did not. His stories are liberally laced with a depth of understanding that he acknowledged could only come to those who have experienced it.
We are not talking about a few days or even depression over a week or two, but rather months where the elevator keeps going down no matter how many times one thumps the Up button.
The rawness of Mr. Styron’s descent into deep depression is what made it difficult to read. As he said, the wide variety of symptoms and idiosyncrasies of depression continue to make it difficult to treat. There is no simple ‘cure’ and no ‘one remedy suits all’ like there are for other diseases and illnesses.
The relentless descriptions of the reality he was being bombarded with every day for months were an education that I will not soon forget. I will also never forget that he did succeed in moving through it; just as his elevator skimmed the rock bottom of his life, it changed direction and began a slow and laborious climb upward again.
Not without a near-crisis, and not without a lot of help. He emphasizes that point and also has some solid advice and words of wisdom to pass on to anyone who lives with a sufferer of depression, be it family or friends.
Oh, and he also said he hoped that a better word would someday be found for this disease as he felt “depression” to be too dull and boring and not even close to describing the fierce and painful storms that occur in the mind and emotions of those suffering from debilitating depression.
I do recommend this book to anyone who may be confronting depression themselves or that of a family member or friend. It could help to save someone’s life.
We are not talking about a few days or even depression over a week or two, but rather months where the elevator keeps going down no matter how many times one thumps the Up button.
The rawness of Mr. Styron’s descent into deep depression is what made it difficult to read. As he said, the wide variety of symptoms and idiosyncrasies of depression continue to make it difficult to treat. There is no simple ‘cure’ and no ‘one remedy suits all’ like there are for other diseases and illnesses.
The relentless descriptions of the reality he was being bombarded with every day for months were an education that I will not soon forget. I will also never forget that he did succeed in moving through it; just as his elevator skimmed the rock bottom of his life, it changed direction and began a slow and laborious climb upward again.
Not without a near-crisis, and not without a lot of help. He emphasizes that point and also has some solid advice and words of wisdom to pass on to anyone who lives with a sufferer of depression, be it family or friends.
Oh, and he also said he hoped that a better word would someday be found for this disease as he felt “depression” to be too dull and boring and not even close to describing the fierce and painful storms that occur in the mind and emotions of those suffering from debilitating depression.
I do recommend this book to anyone who may be confronting depression themselves or that of a family member or friend. It could help to save someone’s life.
January 1, 2022
Darkness Visible: A Memoir of Madness, William Styron
Darkness Visible: A Memoir of Madness is a memoir by American writer William Styron, about his descent into depression, and the triumph of recovery, First published in December 1989.
It is among the last books published by Styron, and is widely considered one of his best, and most influential works. Darkness Visible also helped raise awareness for depression, which was relatively unknown at the time.
In October 1985, American author William Styron travels to Paris to receive a prestigious literary award. During the trip, Styron's mental state begins to degenerate rapidly as the depressive symptoms that he has been experiencing for several months worsen.
He tentatively concludes that his depression was brought about his sudden withdrawal from years of alcoholism and exacerbated by his over dependence on Halcion, a prescription drug that he took to treat insomnia.
Styron also briefly mentions his own father's battle with depression and his mother's premature death from breast cancer, both of which he believes could have also contributed to his deteriorated state of mind.
تاریخ نخستین خوانش: سال1997میلادی
عنوان: افسردگی چیست؟؛ نویسنده: ویلیام استایرون؛ مترجمها: محمد دهگان پور؛ بیژن عسگری؛ تهران، بدر، سال1375، در83ص؛ شابک9645729238؛ موضوع: بهداشت روانی، افسردگی، و زیستنامه از نویسندگان ایالات متحده آمریکا - سده20م
عنوان: ظلمت آشکار: خاطرات افسردگی (دیوانگی)؛ نویسنده: ویلیام استایرون؛ مترجم: افشین رضاپور؛ تهران، ماهی، سال1388، در72ص؛ شابک9789649971735؛ چاپ سوم سال1396؛
ویلیام استایرن، نویسنده ی «آمریکایی»، که در دهه های شصت، و هفتاد میلادی، با رمانهایی همچون «انتخاب سوفی»، به شهرت رسیده بودند، در سن شصتوچند سالگی، به افسردگی حاد مبتلا شدند؛ افسردگی ایشان بقدری شدید بود، که ایشان را ماهها، از کار روزانه باز داشت، و شاید به مرز خودکشی هم کشاند؛ «استایرن»، پس از بهبود، یادمانهایی از این دوران را، در قالب کتاب کوچک «ظلمت آشکار» بنگاشتند، کتابیکه آوازه ی ایشانرا در دهه ی پایانی عمرش، دو چندان کرد؛ این کتاب، با شرح سفر «استایرن»، به «پاریس» در سال1985میلادی، آغاز میشود؛ این نویسنده ی نام آشنا برای دریافت جایزه ی ادبی خویش به «پاریس» سفر میکند؛ «استایرن» در طول سفرش متوجه تغییراتی در انرژی ذهنش میشود، او خیلی سریع خسته، و بیحوصله است، و نمیخواهد با کسی گفتگو کند؛ این علائم نشانه های نخست از افسردگی «استایرن» هستند؛ او پس از مدتی متوجه میشود که علائم او بسیار شدیدتر شده اند و به دنبال درمان بیماری خویش میرود؛
برعکس بیشتر بیماران افسرده، «ویلیام استایرن» نه تنها در برابر هیچ راه درمانی پایداری نکرد بلکه راههای بسیاری همانند گفتگو با روانشناس، خوردن قرصهای ضدافسردگی و ...؛ را هم آزمایش کرد؛ نقطهی اوج داستان شبی است که «ویلیام استایرن» قصد خ��دک��ی دارد، اما ناگهان اتفاقی رخ میدهد که تمام زندگی «استایرن» را برای همیشه دگرگونه میکند؛ سه شخصیت اصلی در این داستان «ویلیام استایرن»، «دکتر گلد» روانپزشک او، و «رز بِرگاندر استایرن» همسر نویسنده هستند
نقل از متن: (وقتی اولین بار فهمیدم که بیماری زمینگیرم کرده؛ دیدم باید علاوه بر کارهای دیگر اعتراض شدیدی علیه واژه ی «دپرشن» ابراز کنم؛ بسیاری از مردم میدانند که «دپرشن» را معمولاً «مالیخولیا» مینامند، واژه ای که نخستین بار در سال 1303میلادی در زبان «انگلیسی» دیده شده و بیش از یکبار در آثار «چاسِر» آمده است؛ «چاسِر» گویا هنگام استفاده از آن آگاه است که این لفظ معنای یک نوع بیماری هم دارد
مالیخولیا ظاهرا هنوز هم، برای اَشکال سیاهتر این بیماری، واژه ای درخورتر و مناسبتر است؛ ولی بعدها اسمی ساده، و بی طمطراق جای آن را گرفت؛ لفظی خنثی که برای توصیف زوال اقتصادی، یا شیارهای زمین به کار میرفت، و واژه ای بود سخت بیبو و خاصیت؛
برای بیان چنین بیماری مهمی؛ عموما «آدولف مایر»، روانپزشک بزرگ «سوئیسی» دانشکده ی پزشکی «جانز هاپکینز» را، مسبب رواج اين واژه، در عصر جدید میدانند؛ گویا گوش «مایر» نسبت به ضرباهنگهای ظریفتر «انگلیسی» حساسیت نداشته، و بنابراین متوجه آسیبهای معنایی ای نبوده که با استفاده از لفظ «دپرشن» برای بیان چنین بیماری هولناک و کشندهای به بار آورده است؛ با وجود این، در طول بیش از هفتادوپنج سال این واژه حلزون وار و آهسته آهسته در زبان خزید، و آنقدر بیبو و بیخاصیت بود، که رد کوچکی از سوء نیت درونیش را بر جای گذاشت، و مانع آگاهی عموم از شدت هولناک بیماری، درزمانی که مهارناپذیرمیشود، شد.)؛ پایان نقل
تاریخ بهنگام رسانی 19/12/1399هجری خورشیدی؛ 10/10/1400هجری خورشیدی؛ ا. شربیانی
Darkness Visible: A Memoir of Madness is a memoir by American writer William Styron, about his descent into depression, and the triumph of recovery, First published in December 1989.
It is among the last books published by Styron, and is widely considered one of his best, and most influential works. Darkness Visible also helped raise awareness for depression, which was relatively unknown at the time.
In October 1985, American author William Styron travels to Paris to receive a prestigious literary award. During the trip, Styron's mental state begins to degenerate rapidly as the depressive symptoms that he has been experiencing for several months worsen.
He tentatively concludes that his depression was brought about his sudden withdrawal from years of alcoholism and exacerbated by his over dependence on Halcion, a prescription drug that he took to treat insomnia.
Styron also briefly mentions his own father's battle with depression and his mother's premature death from breast cancer, both of which he believes could have also contributed to his deteriorated state of mind.
تاریخ نخستین خوانش: سال1997میلادی
عنوان: افسردگی چیست؟؛ نویسنده: ویلیام استایرون؛ مترجمها: محمد دهگان پور؛ بیژن عسگری؛ تهران، بدر، سال1375، در83ص؛ شابک9645729238؛ موضوع: بهداشت روانی، افسردگی، و زیستنامه از نویسندگان ایالات متحده آمریکا - سده20م
عنوان: ظلمت آشکار: خاطرات افسردگی (دیوانگی)؛ نویسنده: ویلیام استایرون؛ مترجم: افشین رضاپور؛ تهران، ماهی، سال1388، در72ص؛ شابک9789649971735؛ چاپ سوم سال1396؛
ویلیام استایرن، نویسنده ی «آمریکایی»، که در دهه های شصت، و هفتاد میلادی، با رمانهایی همچون «انتخاب سوفی»، به شهرت رسیده بودند، در سن شصتوچند سالگی، به افسردگی حاد مبتلا شدند؛ افسردگی ایشان بقدری شدید بود، که ایشان را ماهها، از کار روزانه باز داشت، و شاید به مرز خودکشی هم کشاند؛ «استایرن»، پس از بهبود، یادمانهایی از این دوران را، در قالب کتاب کوچک «ظلمت آشکار» بنگاشتند، کتابیکه آوازه ی ایشانرا در دهه ی پایانی عمرش، دو چندان کرد؛ این کتاب، با شرح سفر «استایرن»، به «پاریس» در سال1985میلادی، آغاز میشود؛ این نویسنده ی نام آشنا برای دریافت جایزه ی ادبی خویش به «پاریس» سفر میکند؛ «استایرن» در طول سفرش متوجه تغییراتی در انرژی ذهنش میشود، او خیلی سریع خسته، و بیحوصله است، و نمیخواهد با کسی گفتگو کند؛ این علائم نشانه های نخست از افسردگی «استایرن» هستند؛ او پس از مدتی متوجه میشود که علائم او بسیار شدیدتر شده اند و به دنبال درمان بیماری خویش میرود؛
برعکس بیشتر بیماران افسرده، «ویلیام استایرن» نه تنها در برابر هیچ راه درمانی پایداری نکرد بلکه راههای بسیاری همانند گفتگو با روانشناس، خوردن قرصهای ضدافسردگی و ...؛ را هم آزمایش کرد؛ نقطهی اوج داستان شبی است که «ویلیام استایرن» قصد خ��دک��ی دارد، اما ناگهان اتفاقی رخ میدهد که تمام زندگی «استایرن» را برای همیشه دگرگونه میکند؛ سه شخصیت اصلی در این داستان «ویلیام استایرن»، «دکتر گلد» روانپزشک او، و «رز بِرگاندر استایرن» همسر نویسنده هستند
نقل از متن: (وقتی اولین بار فهمیدم که بیماری زمینگیرم کرده؛ دیدم باید علاوه بر کارهای دیگر اعتراض شدیدی علیه واژه ی «دپرشن» ابراز کنم؛ بسیاری از مردم میدانند که «دپرشن» را معمولاً «مالیخولیا» مینامند، واژه ای که نخستین بار در سال 1303میلادی در زبان «انگلیسی» دیده شده و بیش از یکبار در آثار «چاسِر» آمده است؛ «چاسِر» گویا هنگام استفاده از آن آگاه است که این لفظ معنای یک نوع بیماری هم دارد
مالیخولیا ظاهرا هنوز هم، برای اَشکال سیاهتر این بیماری، واژه ای درخورتر و مناسبتر است؛ ولی بعدها اسمی ساده، و بی طمطراق جای آن را گرفت؛ لفظی خنثی که برای توصیف زوال اقتصادی، یا شیارهای زمین به کار میرفت، و واژه ای بود سخت بیبو و خاصیت؛
برای بیان چنین بیماری مهمی؛ عموما «آدولف مایر»، روانپزشک بزرگ «سوئیسی» دانشکده ی پزشکی «جانز هاپکینز» را، مسبب رواج اين واژه، در عصر جدید میدانند؛ گویا گوش «مایر» نسبت به ضرباهنگهای ظریفتر «انگلیسی» حساسیت نداشته، و بنابراین متوجه آسیبهای معنایی ای نبوده که با استفاده از لفظ «دپرشن» برای بیان چنین بیماری هولناک و کشندهای به بار آورده است؛ با وجود این، در طول بیش از هفتادوپنج سال این واژه حلزون وار و آهسته آهسته در زبان خزید، و آنقدر بیبو و بیخاصیت بود، که رد کوچکی از سوء نیت درونیش را بر جای گذاشت، و مانع آگاهی عموم از شدت هولناک بیماری، درزمانی که مهارناپذیرمیشود، شد.)؛ پایان نقل
تاریخ بهنگام رسانی 19/12/1399هجری خورشیدی؛ 10/10/1400هجری خورشیدی؛ ا. شربیانی
January 25, 2015
Darkness Visible: When the Question is Whether Life is Worth Living
Preamble-January 18, 2015
The Heart of the Matter-January 25, 2015
It has taken considerably more time than one night of good sleep to bring myself to write an adequate review of Darkness Visible: A Memoir of Madness. For I did not stop with this brief but brilliant account by William Styron. I continued on to with Reading My Father by his youngest daughter, Alexandra Styron, an absorbing, intimate memoir detailing what it was like to be William Styron's daughter in good times and in bad. The bad included not only the time Styron so articulately described in this work, but in his continuing battle clinical depression. His battle did not end with the publication of Darkness Visible in 1990. Rather, Styron was revisited by "the black dog," the "dark river," "the abyss," a number of times before his death in 2006. No, Styron did not die by his own hand. He endured cancer of the mouth, and died of complications from pneumonia. A review of Reading My Father will follow at some point, hopefully in the very near future. As I type, a copy of William Styron, A Life by his biographer James L.W. West III is at the right corner of my desk. Yes, I am making a study of Styron's life and his works, a number of which I have read at this time, but not all of them. Many, some published posthumously have a great bearing on Styron's life view, his state of mind during some of the most difficult points in his life.
There was something else I had to give considerable thought to before writing this review. I indicated that in my "hastily dashed off thoughts" now appearing in what I have called the Preamble to the main body of this review. Those of you who have read my reviews know that I have often included personal details of my life. This will be the most personal review I have ever written. Not only will you read of Styron's thoughts on the nature of depression, but you will learn of mine, something that I struggled to hide for many years, quite successfully, until, I, too, slid off the edge of the world in much the same fashion as did Styron. It is not so much that confession is good for the soul, but that with each voice speaking about the debilitating anguish of depression, perhaps those who do not understand it will not view those who suffer from it weak human beings, would be shirkers of responsibility, or simply spineless beings. Styron did much to dispell that stigma. However, many people who share those misconceptions, quite frankly do not read William Styron. I have come to wonder if they read much of anything. I also have a few things to say about the pharmaceutical industry and the manner in which they pitch their products in endless streams of mindless commercials.
On Darkness Visible as a work of Literature
William Styron wrote an extraordinary document. It draws on literary allusion after allusion. Note the very source of its title. Paradise Lost by John Milton. For its subject matter it is remarkably succinct, a mere ninety pages. It is remarkable for its clarity. Styron is remarkable for his revelation of his illness, it is the taking off the mask that those battling depression wear so well, for so long. Styron reveals his self medication with alcohol, perhaps an addiction, though he never calls it alcoholism. Yet he reveals that he frequently wrote under the influence of alcohol and could not do so without a fluent flow without the aid of alcohol. At the age of sixty, the mere taste of alcohol resulted in pure revulsion. He was devastated by insomnia night after night. He discloses that he was an auto-didact. He was a master at self-diagnosis. Before seeking psychiatric help he had pondered over the Diagnostic Statistical Manual, what I call the ultimate cookbook containing all the diagnostic recipes for disorders large and small for psychologists and psychiatrists. To further complicate matters, though Styron does not admit it in Darkness Visible Styron was a hypochondriac extraordinaire. We can thank daughter Alexandra for that information.
Styron cracked apart in 1985 on a trip to Paris to accept the Prix Mondial Cino Del Duca, awarded for his lifetime achievement in producing works reflecting on great humanism. The award was offered by the wife of his French Publisher. Del Duca had published Styron's first novel Lie Down in Darkness in 1953, and had published each of his ensuing works. It was to be a day of festivities. However, Styron had already sought an appointment with a psychiatrist in New York. The prize was $25,000.00. Immediately after the award was presented, Styron in an absolute panic, immobilized by anxiety, told Madame Del Duca he could not attend the luncheon being held in his behalf. Which drew an angry "Alors!" With arms thrown high. Styron, even in his frozen state, apologized, did recognize his gaffe and told her he had a problem psychiatrique and that he was sick. Apology accepted. Styron and his rock, wife Rose, suffered through the luncheon, Styron unable to choke down hardly a bite. A flight on the Concorde the next morning began a rigorous pyschiatric treatment. Ultimately hospitalization. Styron seriously contemplated suicide.
So. Some central thoughts from Darkness Visible, each of which I hold to be absolutely true, which I will interlace with my own confessions, the devil take the hindmost. The names of some of my principal players have been changed to protect the innocent and the guilty, for there are both.
No words have come so close to describing what it feels like. "You're just down in the dumps. A little time, you'll feel better in no time." Time passes, there's no change. "This moodiness of yours is getting old. Snap out of it. Do you think it's pleasant being around you?" No, I didn't think it was. "If you're not happy here, go somewhere else. If you do, I'll take you for every cent you've got."
My first marriage. Twenty-six years. Many years were loveless. We had two children. When my son graduated from high school, I left work early one day, gathered clothes together, the kids came home to find me packing. I explained their mother and I couldn't get along anymore. It wasn't their fault. Nor was it their mother's. She was a good woman. I would never say a bad word about her.
The divorce took two years. My former wife fought all the way. I was an Assistant District Attorney. There was a limited pot of money. There would always be a limited amount of money. It took two lawyers to convince her of that. Even then, I gave her everything, keeping my books, records, fishing equipment, and camping equipment. Everyone leaves their own legacy. She alienated by children by blocking every phone number I had access to. The children in my photographs of them never grow older. My son married. I had told him when he and his wife had a child he would understand what it meant to be a father, perhaps we would be reconciled someday. We did for almost two years. His mother gave him fits, his wife told me. We are once again estranged. My daughter has never reconciled with me. She has a child I've never met. I was first told I was dealing with depression during my divorce.
I became an Assistant District Attorney in 1979. Several factors led to that. Two women who had cared for me as a child had been murdered. One by her husband. The other by her son. I had loved each of them. Later in law school, as a law clerk in the District Attorney's Office, two young men robbed a Mom and Pop grocery store. The father of two students with whom I had attended school throughout my life was murdered. His death changed their lives forever. I would become a righter of wrongs.
Within six years I was a specialist in prosecuting child abuse. I was bestowed somehow with a high degree of empathy. It can be a gift and a curse. I became known as Mr. Mike. I had a unique ability to talk with children. I became known as Mr. Mike, first by children, then by police, social workers, and the name stuck. I was called in to interview very young children who had witnessed their fathers kill their mothers. I became a protector of mockingbirds.
The caseload was relentless. I was a man capable of great tenderness mixed with the ability to turn mean. I was described as a lawyer who had an uncanny ability to connect with a witness on the stand. I often worked late into the night in trial preparation. My former wife complained I cared about other people's children more than my own. She could not understand it when I told her I knew ours were protected but the others were not.
I was and remain haunted by the eyes of the dead, particularly the eyes of dead children. I have flashbacks at times.
What Styron said about being expected to smile,is true. I wore a mask. Exceptionally well. I was a cop's DA. My best lawyer friend resorted to a John Wayne phrase calling me "a man with a lot of hard bark on him." I could exchange gallows' humor jokes with the most jaded Homicide Investigator.
Although our office had an on-call system, Investigators usually called me. Frankly, I was very, very good at my job. I was a fine trial lawyer. I lost very few cases. I did lose control of my emotions more than once on closing argument before a jury and cried. I considered it a weakness even when the jury convicted.
During all my years as a prosecutor I lost count of the number of crime scenes I attended, the number of dead I saw, the number of autopsies I witnessed, the exhumation of a dead child I obtained an order for, and the subsequent re-autopsy.
I had no outlet to talk about my work. My former wife did not want to hear about it. "It was too depressing." Yes. I guess it was.
Our pharmaceutical industry does nothing to indicate the seriousness of clinical depression. It's a simple as just adding a little pill to help the anti-depressant you're on. And all delivered in a seconds long cartoon commercial. What kind of message does that send to people who have never dealt with the condition, those who have just had the commonplace blues.
Looks serious, doesn't it?
And where are the men in those commercials? Alright, so the statistics show women report depression more than men. How about, women are more forthcoming and truthful in reporting depression. After all, that male ego is such an impediment to admitting to what is viewed as a weakness. Interesting that according to the American Foundation for Suicide in 2012 over 78% of suicides were committed by males while slightly over 21% were committed by females.
Since Darkness Visible
William Styron was repeatedly prescribed Halcion by more than one physician for his insomnia. Halcion was banned in Great Britain in 1991 on the basis of its connection to depression and possible suicidal behavior. The FDA still allows its prescription in the United States. The drug is currently the subject of litigation in various jurisdictions.
Considerable progress has been made in pharmacology for the treatment of clinical depression since Styron published Darkness Visible.
Why I'm Still Here
I fell off the edge of the earth twice. Call it a crack up. Call it a nervous break down. Throughout my life I have been consumed by the fear of failure. Formerly the Director of a Not for Profit Corporation, I was placed under a degree of stress I was incapable of handling. I had long been associated with the program as a board member. The President of the Board had succeeded in removing two Directors preceding my taking the position. When that President initiated the same tactics against me, I became frozen by anxiety, incapable of focus, unable to function. Men closely identify themselves with their work. The loss of what they do is essentially the same as the loss of their identity. That was the case for me. Did I consider whether life was worth living anymore? Yes, I did. Clinical Depression is a chemical imbalance. Restoration to health requires a combination of psychological therapy and psychiatric pharmacology. I was fortunate to find the right combination.
I entered a second stage of crisis after being my mother's care giver during her final illness. It was a long hard death for her. I very unrealistically thought I could help save her life. I lived in a state of denial. She finally was hospitalized in intensive care for a month. The end was inevitable. The morning she died, I found myself lost once again. What was left for me to do. An adjustment of my medications was necessary. Within two months, I had found myself once again.
Each time I considered life wasn't worth the living, one thing kept me from taking the final step. It was the same thing that kept Styron alive. For him, it was the effect it would have had on his family. For me, it was the effect it would have had on my mother and my wife, the lovely woman with whom I found happiness relatively late in life. The second time, my wife. I have seen too many people devastated by the suicide of a loved one. But it took the right help to make me remember that. The help is there.
William Styron, (June 11, 1925 – November 1, 2006)
"Dying is easy. Comedy is hard.--Edmund Kean, (4 November 1787 – 15 May 1833), celebrated Shakespearean actor
Preamble-January 18, 2015
It is 1:20am cst. My thoughts swirl over the important content of Styron's brief memoir originally delivered as a lecture in Baltimore, 1989. The information contained in this little volume is too important to trust to hastily dashed off thoughts, without the benefit of careful consideration. So a night's sleep is called for. And, truthfully, to consider how much of myself I choose to reveal within my review of Styron's story. For much of what he has to say, also applies to me, as it does to many among us. Yet, I am not unaware of the stigma brought about by confession. My inclination is truthfulness leads more to seek help. I did. It has made all the difference. For I emerged from darkness, once again to see the stars. There is much joy in the night sky, but a terrible loneliness in the dark, without even a match to strike to hold to a candle's wick.
The Heart of the Matter-January 25, 2015
It has taken considerably more time than one night of good sleep to bring myself to write an adequate review of Darkness Visible: A Memoir of Madness. For I did not stop with this brief but brilliant account by William Styron. I continued on to with Reading My Father by his youngest daughter, Alexandra Styron, an absorbing, intimate memoir detailing what it was like to be William Styron's daughter in good times and in bad. The bad included not only the time Styron so articulately described in this work, but in his continuing battle clinical depression. His battle did not end with the publication of Darkness Visible in 1990. Rather, Styron was revisited by "the black dog," the "dark river," "the abyss," a number of times before his death in 2006. No, Styron did not die by his own hand. He endured cancer of the mouth, and died of complications from pneumonia. A review of Reading My Father will follow at some point, hopefully in the very near future. As I type, a copy of William Styron, A Life by his biographer James L.W. West III is at the right corner of my desk. Yes, I am making a study of Styron's life and his works, a number of which I have read at this time, but not all of them. Many, some published posthumously have a great bearing on Styron's life view, his state of mind during some of the most difficult points in his life.
There was something else I had to give considerable thought to before writing this review. I indicated that in my "hastily dashed off thoughts" now appearing in what I have called the Preamble to the main body of this review. Those of you who have read my reviews know that I have often included personal details of my life. This will be the most personal review I have ever written. Not only will you read of Styron's thoughts on the nature of depression, but you will learn of mine, something that I struggled to hide for many years, quite successfully, until, I, too, slid off the edge of the world in much the same fashion as did Styron. It is not so much that confession is good for the soul, but that with each voice speaking about the debilitating anguish of depression, perhaps those who do not understand it will not view those who suffer from it weak human beings, would be shirkers of responsibility, or simply spineless beings. Styron did much to dispell that stigma. However, many people who share those misconceptions, quite frankly do not read William Styron. I have come to wonder if they read much of anything. I also have a few things to say about the pharmaceutical industry and the manner in which they pitch their products in endless streams of mindless commercials.
On Darkness Visible as a work of Literature
William Styron wrote an extraordinary document. It draws on literary allusion after allusion. Note the very source of its title. Paradise Lost by John Milton. For its subject matter it is remarkably succinct, a mere ninety pages. It is remarkable for its clarity. Styron is remarkable for his revelation of his illness, it is the taking off the mask that those battling depression wear so well, for so long. Styron reveals his self medication with alcohol, perhaps an addiction, though he never calls it alcoholism. Yet he reveals that he frequently wrote under the influence of alcohol and could not do so without a fluent flow without the aid of alcohol. At the age of sixty, the mere taste of alcohol resulted in pure revulsion. He was devastated by insomnia night after night. He discloses that he was an auto-didact. He was a master at self-diagnosis. Before seeking psychiatric help he had pondered over the Diagnostic Statistical Manual, what I call the ultimate cookbook containing all the diagnostic recipes for disorders large and small for psychologists and psychiatrists. To further complicate matters, though Styron does not admit it in Darkness Visible Styron was a hypochondriac extraordinaire. We can thank daughter Alexandra for that information.
Styron cracked apart in 1985 on a trip to Paris to accept the Prix Mondial Cino Del Duca, awarded for his lifetime achievement in producing works reflecting on great humanism. The award was offered by the wife of his French Publisher. Del Duca had published Styron's first novel Lie Down in Darkness in 1953, and had published each of his ensuing works. It was to be a day of festivities. However, Styron had already sought an appointment with a psychiatrist in New York. The prize was $25,000.00. Immediately after the award was presented, Styron in an absolute panic, immobilized by anxiety, told Madame Del Duca he could not attend the luncheon being held in his behalf. Which drew an angry "Alors!" With arms thrown high. Styron, even in his frozen state, apologized, did recognize his gaffe and told her he had a problem psychiatrique and that he was sick. Apology accepted. Styron and his rock, wife Rose, suffered through the luncheon, Styron unable to choke down hardly a bite. A flight on the Concorde the next morning began a rigorous pyschiatric treatment. Ultimately hospitalization. Styron seriously contemplated suicide.
So. Some central thoughts from Darkness Visible, each of which I hold to be absolutely true, which I will interlace with my own confessions, the devil take the hindmost. The names of some of my principal players have been changed to protect the innocent and the guilty, for there are both.
“Depression is a disorder of mood, so mysteriously painful and elusive in the way it becomes known to the self--to the mediating intellect--as to verge close to being beyond description. It thus remains nearly incomprehensible to those who have not experienced it in its extreme mode, although the gloom, "the blues" which people go through occasionally and associate with the general hassle of everyday existence are of such prevalence that they do give many individuals a hint of the illness in its catastrophic form.” --William Styron
No words have come so close to describing what it feels like. "You're just down in the dumps. A little time, you'll feel better in no time." Time passes, there's no change. "This moodiness of yours is getting old. Snap out of it. Do you think it's pleasant being around you?" No, I didn't think it was. "If you're not happy here, go somewhere else. If you do, I'll take you for every cent you've got."
My first marriage. Twenty-six years. Many years were loveless. We had two children. When my son graduated from high school, I left work early one day, gathered clothes together, the kids came home to find me packing. I explained their mother and I couldn't get along anymore. It wasn't their fault. Nor was it their mother's. She was a good woman. I would never say a bad word about her.
The divorce took two years. My former wife fought all the way. I was an Assistant District Attorney. There was a limited pot of money. There would always be a limited amount of money. It took two lawyers to convince her of that. Even then, I gave her everything, keeping my books, records, fishing equipment, and camping equipment. Everyone leaves their own legacy. She alienated by children by blocking every phone number I had access to. The children in my photographs of them never grow older. My son married. I had told him when he and his wife had a child he would understand what it meant to be a father, perhaps we would be reconciled someday. We did for almost two years. His mother gave him fits, his wife told me. We are once again estranged. My daughter has never reconciled with me. She has a child I've never met. I was first told I was dealing with depression during my divorce.
One does not abandon, even briefly, one’s bed of nails, but is attached to it wherever one goes. And this results in a striking experience- one which I have called, borrowing military terminology, the situation of the walking wounded. For in virtually any other serious sickness, a patient who felt similar devastation would by lying flat in bed, possibly sedated and hooked up to the tubes and wires of life-support systems, but at the very least in a posture of repose and in an isolated setting. His invalidism would be necessary, unquestioned and honorably attained. However, the sufferer from depression has no such option and therefore finds himself, like a walking casualty of war, thrust into the most intolerable social and family situations. There he must, despite the anguish devouring his brain, present a face approximating the one that is associated with ordinary events and companionship. He must try to utter small talk, and be responsive to questions, and knowingly nod and frown and, God help him, even smile. But it is a fierce trial attempting to speak a few simple words.”-William Styron
I became an Assistant District Attorney in 1979. Several factors led to that. Two women who had cared for me as a child had been murdered. One by her husband. The other by her son. I had loved each of them. Later in law school, as a law clerk in the District Attorney's Office, two young men robbed a Mom and Pop grocery store. The father of two students with whom I had attended school throughout my life was murdered. His death changed their lives forever. I would become a righter of wrongs.
I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain—and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.
Robert Frost
Within six years I was a specialist in prosecuting child abuse. I was bestowed somehow with a high degree of empathy. It can be a gift and a curse. I became known as Mr. Mike. I had a unique ability to talk with children. I became known as Mr. Mike, first by children, then by police, social workers, and the name stuck. I was called in to interview very young children who had witnessed their fathers kill their mothers. I became a protector of mockingbirds.
The caseload was relentless. I was a man capable of great tenderness mixed with the ability to turn mean. I was described as a lawyer who had an uncanny ability to connect with a witness on the stand. I often worked late into the night in trial preparation. My former wife complained I cared about other people's children more than my own. She could not understand it when I told her I knew ours were protected but the others were not.
I was and remain haunted by the eyes of the dead, particularly the eyes of dead children. I have flashbacks at times.
What Styron said about being expected to smile,is true. I wore a mask. Exceptionally well. I was a cop's DA. My best lawyer friend resorted to a John Wayne phrase calling me "a man with a lot of hard bark on him." I could exchange gallows' humor jokes with the most jaded Homicide Investigator.
Although our office had an on-call system, Investigators usually called me. Frankly, I was very, very good at my job. I was a fine trial lawyer. I lost very few cases. I did lose control of my emotions more than once on closing argument before a jury and cried. I considered it a weakness even when the jury convicted.
During all my years as a prosecutor I lost count of the number of crime scenes I attended, the number of dead I saw, the number of autopsies I witnessed, the exhumation of a dead child I obtained an order for, and the subsequent re-autopsy.
I had no outlet to talk about my work. My former wife did not want to hear about it. "It was too depressing." Yes. I guess it was.
“When I was first aware that I had been laid low by the disease, I felt a need, among other things, to register a strong protest against the word "depression." Depression, most people know, used to be termed "melancholia," a word which appears in English as the year 1303 and crops up more than once in Chaucer, who in his usage seemed to be aware of its pathological nuances. "Melancholia" would still appear to be a far more apt and evocative word for the blacker forms of the disorder, but it was usurped by a noun with a blank tonality and lacking any magisterial presence, used indifferent to describe an economic decline or a rut in the ground, a true wimp of a word for such a major illness.
It may be that the scientist generally held responsible for its currency in modern times, a Johns Hopkins Medical School faculty member justly venerated --the Swiss-born psychiatrist Adolf Meyer -- had a tin ear for the finer rhythms of English and therefore was unaware of the semantic damage he had inflicted for such a dreadful and raging disease. Nonetheless, for over seventy-five years the word has slithered innocuously through the language like a slug, leaving little trace of its intrinsic malevolence and preventing, by its insipidity, a general awareness of the horrible intensity of the disease when out of control.”
― William Styron
Our pharmaceutical industry does nothing to indicate the seriousness of clinical depression. It's a simple as just adding a little pill to help the anti-depressant you're on. And all delivered in a seconds long cartoon commercial. What kind of message does that send to people who have never dealt with the condition, those who have just had the commonplace blues.
Looks serious, doesn't it?
And where are the men in those commercials? Alright, so the statistics show women report depression more than men. How about, women are more forthcoming and truthful in reporting depression. After all, that male ego is such an impediment to admitting to what is viewed as a weakness. Interesting that according to the American Foundation for Suicide in 2012 over 78% of suicides were committed by males while slightly over 21% were committed by females.
Since Darkness Visible
William Styron was repeatedly prescribed Halcion by more than one physician for his insomnia. Halcion was banned in Great Britain in 1991 on the basis of its connection to depression and possible suicidal behavior. The FDA still allows its prescription in the United States. The drug is currently the subject of litigation in various jurisdictions.
Considerable progress has been made in pharmacology for the treatment of clinical depression since Styron published Darkness Visible.
Why I'm Still Here
I fell off the edge of the earth twice. Call it a crack up. Call it a nervous break down. Throughout my life I have been consumed by the fear of failure. Formerly the Director of a Not for Profit Corporation, I was placed under a degree of stress I was incapable of handling. I had long been associated with the program as a board member. The President of the Board had succeeded in removing two Directors preceding my taking the position. When that President initiated the same tactics against me, I became frozen by anxiety, incapable of focus, unable to function. Men closely identify themselves with their work. The loss of what they do is essentially the same as the loss of their identity. That was the case for me. Did I consider whether life was worth living anymore? Yes, I did. Clinical Depression is a chemical imbalance. Restoration to health requires a combination of psychological therapy and psychiatric pharmacology. I was fortunate to find the right combination.
I entered a second stage of crisis after being my mother's care giver during her final illness. It was a long hard death for her. I very unrealistically thought I could help save her life. I lived in a state of denial. She finally was hospitalized in intensive care for a month. The end was inevitable. The morning she died, I found myself lost once again. What was left for me to do. An adjustment of my medications was necessary. Within two months, I had found myself once again.
Each time I considered life wasn't worth the living, one thing kept me from taking the final step. It was the same thing that kept Styron alive. For him, it was the effect it would have had on his family. For me, it was the effect it would have had on my mother and my wife, the lovely woman with whom I found happiness relatively late in life. The second time, my wife. I have seen too many people devastated by the suicide of a loved one. But it took the right help to make me remember that. The help is there.
May 7, 2020
ظلامٌ مرئي. يقوم العنوان على لعبة المفارقة، فما يعنيه الظلام حقًا هو ألا ترى، لكنك ترى الظلام، لا ترى غير الظلام. هذا هو ما يبدو عليه الاكتئاب من رأس صاحبه.
الكتاب يحكي فصلًا من سيرة وليام ستايرون مع الاكتئاب والميول الانتحارية وما يطلق عليه اسم "المانخوليا".
يطرح الكتاب سؤالًا جوهريًا.. السؤال الجوهري حقيقة؛ هل تستحق الحياة أن تُعاش؟ إنه صراع ضد ولأجل إرادة الحياة، في فصول مؤلمة وقاتمة، وأخرى تتوهّج ببصيص خافت.
أكثر ما أثمّنه في هذا الكتاب أن وليام ستايرون قد تحلى بالكرم والشجاعة الكافيين لكي يمنح صوتًا لفئة بلا صوت، أنّه أسقط عن المريض قشرة العار التي تحجب طريق التعافي، وأن مريض الاكتئاب إذا قرأ كتابًا كهذا سيعرف بأنه ليس وحيدًا. في المعاناة المشتركة عزاء.. هذه أيضًا مفارقة. شكرًا دار الكرمة ♥️
الكتاب يحكي فصلًا من سيرة وليام ستايرون مع الاكتئاب والميول الانتحارية وما يطلق عليه اسم "المانخوليا".
يطرح الكتاب سؤالًا جوهريًا.. السؤال الجوهري حقيقة؛ هل تستحق الحياة أن تُعاش؟ إنه صراع ضد ولأجل إرادة الحياة، في فصول مؤلمة وقاتمة، وأخرى تتوهّج ببصيص خافت.
أكثر ما أثمّنه في هذا الكتاب أن وليام ستايرون قد تحلى بالكرم والشجاعة الكافيين لكي يمنح صوتًا لفئة بلا صوت، أنّه أسقط عن المريض قشرة العار التي تحجب طريق التعافي، وأن مريض الاكتئاب إذا قرأ كتابًا كهذا سيعرف بأنه ليس وحيدًا. في المعاناة المشتركة عزاء.. هذه أيضًا مفارقة. شكرًا دار الكرمة ♥️
September 2, 2007
It was August in the year 2000. I was about to enter the room for my final exam. This was the introduction to Unix and it was coming to an end.
So was I.
Tears flowing copiously, leaning over the second floor balcony, I was overcome with darkness, the likes of which I had never experienced before.
I finished the exam and could not gather myself. I had no reason for living. In my grief I recalled an earlier experience of incredible bliss following a near death/drowning experience at Luther Burbank Park during my first visit to Seattle in 1977. The water was calling me to her. I could taste her and the light drew me near. I kept remembering the bliss of that day as I sank deeper into the lake my last breath bubbling to the surface and the incredible softness and beauty of the afternoon sun reaching below the surface and I in total surrender, enveloped by her. By brother pushed me to the surface that afternoon and with the aid of the lifeguard revived me. It wasn't my time.
The bliss was calling again and I was ready. I set up a meeting with my best friend at the time. A last beer together. Goodbyes. Again, it wasn't my time.
A month later, this book was sitting in the lunchroom at my place of work. I brought it home and read it and saw myself in the pages looking back at me. It would be a couple of months before I regained my appetite for living.
Looking back I've had a major episode of depression at about every 15 years. None were as deep and despairing as this last one.
There was something about this slim volume that really helped in the immediate post-suicidal period when I was in a sort of purgatory, a daze, a grey zone between the worlds.
I'm better now, thanks to caring friends and divine intervention. I have a zest for life, interesting projects, friends, and community. Just like before. But I am different for having the experience I had.
Here is hope that your days are full of light.
So was I.
Tears flowing copiously, leaning over the second floor balcony, I was overcome with darkness, the likes of which I had never experienced before.
I finished the exam and could not gather myself. I had no reason for living. In my grief I recalled an earlier experience of incredible bliss following a near death/drowning experience at Luther Burbank Park during my first visit to Seattle in 1977. The water was calling me to her. I could taste her and the light drew me near. I kept remembering the bliss of that day as I sank deeper into the lake my last breath bubbling to the surface and the incredible softness and beauty of the afternoon sun reaching below the surface and I in total surrender, enveloped by her. By brother pushed me to the surface that afternoon and with the aid of the lifeguard revived me. It wasn't my time.
The bliss was calling again and I was ready. I set up a meeting with my best friend at the time. A last beer together. Goodbyes. Again, it wasn't my time.
A month later, this book was sitting in the lunchroom at my place of work. I brought it home and read it and saw myself in the pages looking back at me. It would be a couple of months before I regained my appetite for living.
Looking back I've had a major episode of depression at about every 15 years. None were as deep and despairing as this last one.
There was something about this slim volume that really helped in the immediate post-suicidal period when I was in a sort of purgatory, a daze, a grey zone between the worlds.
I'm better now, thanks to caring friends and divine intervention. I have a zest for life, interesting projects, friends, and community. Just like before. But I am different for having the experience I had.
Here is hope that your days are full of light.
![Profile Image for Orsodimondo [in pausa].](https://cdn.statically.io/img/i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/users/1528452721i/10490224._UY200_CR39,0,200,200_.jpg)
September 9, 2021
NATURAL BURELLA**
Tag words:
Albert Camus, Romain Gary, Jean Seberg, Parigi, Lo straniero, Vanity Fair, Hotel Washington, Prix Mondial Cino Del Duca, 25.000 dollari americani, Abbie Hoffman, Un letto di tenebre, Randall Jarrell, Primo Levi, Halcion, Ludiomil, benzodiazepina, Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of the American Psychiatric Association, Concorde (l’aereo), Gallimard, plateau de fruits de mer, Le confessioni di Nat Turner, Mersault, Emma Bovary, Considerazioni sulla ghigliottina, Sisifo, La caduta, Martha’s Vineyard, New York, Connecticut, Brasserie Lipp, La Coupole, Prix Goncourt, New York Review of Books, Chapel Hill, New York Times, Chaucer, 1303, 1952, 1960, 1965, 1967, 1968, 1970, 1978, 1980, 1985, 1986, 1987, 1988, 1989, American Hospital di Neuilly, Académie Française, William James, Varie forme dell’esperienza religiosa, Baudelaire, l’ala della follia mi ha sfiorato, Majakovskij, Adolf Meyer, Newsweek, Times, 150 fenilbarbiturici, alcol, Auschwitz, L’autodistruzione nella terra promessa, teoria del lutto incompleto, malinconia, depressione, tempesta mentale, fantasie atroci, angoscia, sofferenza, annegamento, soffocamento, tormento, terrorizzato, indifeso, tremante, patologia, pazzia, processo biochimico aberrante, neurotrasmettitori cerebrali, stress sistemico, deplezione di noradrenalina e serotonina, cortisolo, disperazione, desolazione, suicidio, unico rimedio, annullamento dell’anima.
E quindi uscimmo a riveder le stelle.
Inferno XXXIV, 139, l'ultimo verso dell'Inferno della Divina Commedia di Dante Alighieri.
PS
La natural burella è una galleria sotterranea lunga come una tomba, che Dante e Virgilio percorrono per arrivare all’uscita dell’Inferno e, di conseguenza, per entrare nel Purgatorio.
Tag words:
Albert Camus, Romain Gary, Jean Seberg, Parigi, Lo straniero, Vanity Fair, Hotel Washington, Prix Mondial Cino Del Duca, 25.000 dollari americani, Abbie Hoffman, Un letto di tenebre, Randall Jarrell, Primo Levi, Halcion, Ludiomil, benzodiazepina, Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of the American Psychiatric Association, Concorde (l’aereo), Gallimard, plateau de fruits de mer, Le confessioni di Nat Turner, Mersault, Emma Bovary, Considerazioni sulla ghigliottina, Sisifo, La caduta, Martha’s Vineyard, New York, Connecticut, Brasserie Lipp, La Coupole, Prix Goncourt, New York Review of Books, Chapel Hill, New York Times, Chaucer, 1303, 1952, 1960, 1965, 1967, 1968, 1970, 1978, 1980, 1985, 1986, 1987, 1988, 1989, American Hospital di Neuilly, Académie Française, William James, Varie forme dell’esperienza religiosa, Baudelaire, l’ala della follia mi ha sfiorato, Majakovskij, Adolf Meyer, Newsweek, Times, 150 fenilbarbiturici, alcol, Auschwitz, L’autodistruzione nella terra promessa, teoria del lutto incompleto, malinconia, depressione, tempesta mentale, fantasie atroci, angoscia, sofferenza, annegamento, soffocamento, tormento, terrorizzato, indifeso, tremante, patologia, pazzia, processo biochimico aberrante, neurotrasmettitori cerebrali, stress sistemico, deplezione di noradrenalina e serotonina, cortisolo, disperazione, desolazione, suicidio, unico rimedio, annullamento dell’anima.
E quindi uscimmo a riveder le stelle.
Inferno XXXIV, 139, l'ultimo verso dell'Inferno della Divina Commedia di Dante Alighieri.
PS
La natural burella è una galleria sotterranea lunga come una tomba, che Dante e Virgilio percorrono per arrivare all’uscita dell’Inferno e, di conseguenza, per entrare nel Purgatorio.
August 8, 2021
There’s No Good Word For It
We have no word for this condition. If indeed it is a single condition at all. More likely each case of this mental malady is unique and can’t be properly categorised in general terms. ‘Depression’ is a medical euphemism for a complex constellation of human suffering. Not even the highly articulate William Styron feels he can describe his own experience adequately.
All the pros agree that something has gone wrong chemically in the brain. But beyond that they can only guess at the pharmacological fix that might alleviate symptoms - sometimes with disastrous adverse effects. They have no idea what psychological or physiological events might trigger wonky chemistry or when such aberrations might occur in one’s life.
The state of being Styron, and so many others, experienced is not one of feeling low, or the blues, or being down, or any of dozens of other euphemisms. It is a state of total incapacitation. The malady attacks the body only indirectly through the attempted destruction of the Self. It is the ultimate auto-immune disease and wages war on existence itself. And it frequently wins that war through suicide.
There is no permanent cure, no immunity. Drugs might work temporarily but they are not a preventative vaccine. Recovery therefore is only into a recognition that the beast can strike again, and again. There is no way to reduce one’s vulnerability. As Styron says, the genetic roots of the malady are now beyond question. Against our genes we are essentially defenceless.
The malady is particularly associated with artistic talent. Whether this mitigates or increases its tragic consequences isn’t clear. Perhaps the “weather inside one’s head” is necessary for creative imagination. Perhaps, as implied by Styron’s own account, artistic expression is a way of forestalling the war against oneself. If so, it may be that the search for the personally unique right word is an important part of keeping oneself alive.
While reading Styron, I was struck by the memory of a piece by Maurice Blanchot in his A Voice From Elsewhere. Commenting on Hegel’s Philosophy of Spirit, he writes “Through the blessing or fault of Hegel, we feel that what now seems so alive required the already dead. This is what Lyotard calls melancholy, and others call ‘nihilism.’” That is, truly creative artistry, or for that matter authentic living, requires almost the continuous restorative death, killing really even if only metaphorically, of the existing person in order to free the spirit from its inherited constraints. Could it be that there is a meaning to this mysterious illness that we have yet to grasp?
Blanchot quotes the poet Samuel Wood [des Forêts]:
Could it be that this is a clue about the therapy that is really necessary, the telling of our most intimate stories in a way that feels like it will kill us? Styron might agree. The trick, I suppose, at least according to Blanchot, is not getting stuck on the one story, that is, to keep being born.
We have no word for this condition. If indeed it is a single condition at all. More likely each case of this mental malady is unique and can’t be properly categorised in general terms. ‘Depression’ is a medical euphemism for a complex constellation of human suffering. Not even the highly articulate William Styron feels he can describe his own experience adequately.
All the pros agree that something has gone wrong chemically in the brain. But beyond that they can only guess at the pharmacological fix that might alleviate symptoms - sometimes with disastrous adverse effects. They have no idea what psychological or physiological events might trigger wonky chemistry or when such aberrations might occur in one’s life.
The state of being Styron, and so many others, experienced is not one of feeling low, or the blues, or being down, or any of dozens of other euphemisms. It is a state of total incapacitation. The malady attacks the body only indirectly through the attempted destruction of the Self. It is the ultimate auto-immune disease and wages war on existence itself. And it frequently wins that war through suicide.
There is no permanent cure, no immunity. Drugs might work temporarily but they are not a preventative vaccine. Recovery therefore is only into a recognition that the beast can strike again, and again. There is no way to reduce one’s vulnerability. As Styron says, the genetic roots of the malady are now beyond question. Against our genes we are essentially defenceless.
The malady is particularly associated with artistic talent. Whether this mitigates or increases its tragic consequences isn’t clear. Perhaps the “weather inside one’s head” is necessary for creative imagination. Perhaps, as implied by Styron’s own account, artistic expression is a way of forestalling the war against oneself. If so, it may be that the search for the personally unique right word is an important part of keeping oneself alive.
While reading Styron, I was struck by the memory of a piece by Maurice Blanchot in his A Voice From Elsewhere. Commenting on Hegel’s Philosophy of Spirit, he writes “Through the blessing or fault of Hegel, we feel that what now seems so alive required the already dead. This is what Lyotard calls melancholy, and others call ‘nihilism.’” That is, truly creative artistry, or for that matter authentic living, requires almost the continuous restorative death, killing really even if only metaphorically, of the existing person in order to free the spirit from its inherited constraints. Could it be that there is a meaning to this mysterious illness that we have yet to grasp?
Blanchot quotes the poet Samuel Wood [des Forêts]:
“Tell yourself that at both ends of the journey
The most wrenching pain is that of being born
That lasts and clashes with the fear we have of dying,
Tell yourself we aren’t done with being born
But the dead, the dead are done with dying.”
Could it be that this is a clue about the therapy that is really necessary, the telling of our most intimate stories in a way that feels like it will kill us? Styron might agree. The trick, I suppose, at least according to Blanchot, is not getting stuck on the one story, that is, to keep being born.
December 3, 2007
Maybe I'm being needlessly harsh in my one-star rating, but there was something about Styron's memoir that really distressed me. I read it during one of my own periods of depression, and for whatever reason I decided to pair it with The Bell Jar, and instead of feeling any sort of comfort or recognition in Styron's words, I just felt sort of angry. I became so hung up on the ways we (women, men, Americans, depressed people, etc.) talk about depression, and on what it means when we call it by different names, that even the very title of the work became grating: "A Memoir of Madness." I started (probably unfairly) projecting onto Styron, grumbling to myself that, sure, when fancy male writers are depressed it becomes madness, like they all think they're King Lear or something. (This is the point at which a simultaneous re-reading of Sylvia Plath became not so helpful, but provided an interesting contrast.)
It was also around the time--and this was in a total fit of unabashed Crazy--that I decided to reclaim the phrase "mental illness." Man, that was a bad week.
But I guess what I really struggled with, in reading this memoir, was the notion of finding anything noble in suffering from depression. I've never felt especially noble or touched by a strange, dark power or whatever--I've spent almost fifteen years of my life thinking that I'm broken and that I should cheer up already. I know that there's no such thing as capital-D Depression, and that we all experience it differently (and maybe even differently throughout our own lives), but there was just something about Styron's tone that really irked me.
It was also around the time--and this was in a total fit of unabashed Crazy--that I decided to reclaim the phrase "mental illness." Man, that was a bad week.
But I guess what I really struggled with, in reading this memoir, was the notion of finding anything noble in suffering from depression. I've never felt especially noble or touched by a strange, dark power or whatever--I've spent almost fifteen years of my life thinking that I'm broken and that I should cheer up already. I know that there's no such thing as capital-D Depression, and that we all experience it differently (and maybe even differently throughout our own lives), but there was just something about Styron's tone that really irked me.
May 10, 2023
This memoir is almost a handbook about dealing with depression. So be aware that THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS because I think the information is too important to worry about how much of the story I reveal. This is not a book you read for the plot. Although I’m fortunate to not be in either of these situations, I think it’s a ‘must read’ if you suffer from severe depression or if someone you care about suffers.
In any case, we know the story from the blurbs before we begin: a famous author, about age 60, has such a severe bout of depression that he contemplates suicide and has himself admitted to a hospital before he can kill himself.
The story is focused on a 3-month severe bout that started in 1985 when the author was 60. He was joyless, suffering from severe insomnia and feelings of self-hatred and worthlessness. He became obsessed with possessing things like his glasses. He could not be out of sight of his (obviously saintly) wife.
This severe bout came upon him despite the fact that his books were selling well and he was in Paris to receive a literary award worth $25,000. He was trying to help himself and had given up alcohol. But he could hardly interact with people, couldn’t drive, and he says his friends told him his voice had changed to where he ‘sounded like a 90-year-old.’
The author suffered from severe clinical depression and if he made any single mistake in dealing with it, I would say it was this: he didn't get a second opinion.
He didn't like his doctor, a psychoanalyst, and Styron fundamentally didn't believe that any discussion of his mental issues would help. He was ‘old school’ in being embarrassed about having to go to a psychiatrist and he didn't really see the point of it other than getting prescriptions for various medications. Apparently his doctor shared these viewpoints.
They had halfhearted therapeutic sessions and then got down to the meds. The patient found out later that the doctor was allowing him to abuse the dosages of very powerful drugs. One drug the doctor told Styron to ‘take whenever you feel you need to take one,’ and for another drug he had prescribed triple the maximum dosage. [Do you hear loud quacking sounds like I do?] Styron names some of the drugs he took but not the doctor. They included Valium, Halcion and Ativan.
The doctor also seemed to share in the patient’s potential embarrassment about a worst-case situation and the doctor advised him at all costs to “stay out of the hospital.” In the end, that hospitalization proved to be precisely what Styron needed to get out of the pit he had fallen into.
Perhaps Styron’s case was aggravated by the suicides of friends at the time. He was good friends with French author Romain Gary and both Gary and his wife separately killed themselves within a short time. Ditto with the 60s political radical Abbie Hoffman of Chicago Seven fame. Styron had even testified for the defense at Hoffman’s trial.
Styron talks about famous authors and artists who were suicide-prone. He gives us a list of 20-or-so and a few details. He's a proponent of a theory in psychology that folks who lost a parent around puberty, particularly a mother, may be prone to late-onset severe depression. Styron lost his mother to cancer when he was 14. There’s also genetics: his father suffered from clinical depression.
Styron (1925-2006) is known for two best-selling novels: Sophie’s Choice and Confessions of Nat Turner, although this memoir of depression has become his second most-read book, after Sophie.
Top photo of the author taken around 1959 from theparisreview.org
Styron and his wife Rose in 1972 from newyorker.com
In any case, we know the story from the blurbs before we begin: a famous author, about age 60, has such a severe bout of depression that he contemplates suicide and has himself admitted to a hospital before he can kill himself.
The story is focused on a 3-month severe bout that started in 1985 when the author was 60. He was joyless, suffering from severe insomnia and feelings of self-hatred and worthlessness. He became obsessed with possessing things like his glasses. He could not be out of sight of his (obviously saintly) wife.
This severe bout came upon him despite the fact that his books were selling well and he was in Paris to receive a literary award worth $25,000. He was trying to help himself and had given up alcohol. But he could hardly interact with people, couldn’t drive, and he says his friends told him his voice had changed to where he ‘sounded like a 90-year-old.’
The author suffered from severe clinical depression and if he made any single mistake in dealing with it, I would say it was this: he didn't get a second opinion.
He didn't like his doctor, a psychoanalyst, and Styron fundamentally didn't believe that any discussion of his mental issues would help. He was ‘old school’ in being embarrassed about having to go to a psychiatrist and he didn't really see the point of it other than getting prescriptions for various medications. Apparently his doctor shared these viewpoints.
They had halfhearted therapeutic sessions and then got down to the meds. The patient found out later that the doctor was allowing him to abuse the dosages of very powerful drugs. One drug the doctor told Styron to ‘take whenever you feel you need to take one,’ and for another drug he had prescribed triple the maximum dosage. [Do you hear loud quacking sounds like I do?] Styron names some of the drugs he took but not the doctor. They included Valium, Halcion and Ativan.
The doctor also seemed to share in the patient’s potential embarrassment about a worst-case situation and the doctor advised him at all costs to “stay out of the hospital.” In the end, that hospitalization proved to be precisely what Styron needed to get out of the pit he had fallen into.
Perhaps Styron’s case was aggravated by the suicides of friends at the time. He was good friends with French author Romain Gary and both Gary and his wife separately killed themselves within a short time. Ditto with the 60s political radical Abbie Hoffman of Chicago Seven fame. Styron had even testified for the defense at Hoffman’s trial.
Styron talks about famous authors and artists who were suicide-prone. He gives us a list of 20-or-so and a few details. He's a proponent of a theory in psychology that folks who lost a parent around puberty, particularly a mother, may be prone to late-onset severe depression. Styron lost his mother to cancer when he was 14. There’s also genetics: his father suffered from clinical depression.
Styron (1925-2006) is known for two best-selling novels: Sophie’s Choice and Confessions of Nat Turner, although this memoir of depression has become his second most-read book, after Sophie.
Top photo of the author taken around 1959 from theparisreview.org
Styron and his wife Rose in 1972 from newyorker.com
September 10, 2021
افسردگی اختلالی ذهنی است و رنجی چنان رازآلود و دیرفهم_برای هوش متوسط _ که به وصف در نمیآید. بنابراین برای آنها که به رغم اندوه درونی شدت آن را نچشیدهاند، همواره درکناشدنی باقی میماند. «اندوهی» که مردم گهگاه گرفتارش میشوند و با مشکلات روزمره پیوند خورده، چنان رایج است که در شکل مصیبتبارش به علائم بیماری منجر میشود.
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این کتاب رو برای بار دوم خوندم، کتاب کمحجم و روانی که از تجربهی افسردگی خود نویسنده نوشته شده. او از تجربیاتش در این دوران نوشته و به کوتاهی از نویسندگانی نام برده که خودکشی کردهاند و علت احتمالی آن را بررسی کرده. ویلیام استایرن معتقده که ما نمیتونیم کسی رو که خودکشی میکنه قضاوت کنیم چون رنج افسردگی برای همه قابل درک نیست؛ این حاکی از فقدان آگاهی عمومیست. این کتاب رو پیشنهاد میکنم.
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این کتاب رو برای بار دوم خوندم، کتاب کمحجم و روانی که از تجربهی افسردگی خود نویسنده نوشته شده. او از تجربیاتش در این دوران نوشته و به کوتاهی از نویسندگانی نام برده که خودکشی کردهاند و علت احتمالی آن را بررسی کرده. ویلیام استایرن معتقده که ما نمیتونیم کسی رو که خودکشی میکنه قضاوت کنیم چون رنج افسردگی برای همه قابل درک نیست؛ این حاکی از فقدان آگاهی عمومیست. این کتاب رو پیشنهاد میکنم.
August 2, 2024
ظلام مرئي كتاب للروائي الأمريكي وليام ستايرون الذي نال العديد من الجوائز عن كتبه، مثل جائزة «بولتزر»، وجائزة الكتاب الأمريكي ويعتبر هذا الكتاب أهم أعماله وأشهرها وأكثرها تأثيراً...
الكتاب يعد سيرة ذاتية للكاتب بيتكلم فيه عن إصابته بالاكتئاب عند عمر الستين وكيف استطاع الشفاء منه وعلي الرغم من صغر حجم الكتاب إلا إن فيه معلومات لا بأس بها عن طبيعة المرض و بعض طرق العلاج و الأسباب التي قد تؤدي للإصابة به و يؤكد في النهاية أن الاكتئاب ليس نهاية العالم وهو مرض يمكن قهره بدليل إن عدد لا حصر له من الرجال والنساء تعافوا منه و من ضمنهم الكاتب نفسه.
الكتاب محتواه بسيط..مش مأثر أوي كما يقال عنه ولكنه بالتأكيد كتاب إيجابي و يعطي أمل لكل من يمر بحالة اكتئاب أو أزمة ما كما إنه يساهم في التوعية بالمرض الذي لا يقل خطورة عن الكثير من الأمراض الاخري..
"وهكذا خرجنا، ومرة أخرى أبصرنا النجوم .."
الكتاب يعد سيرة ذاتية للكاتب بيتكلم فيه عن إصابته بالاكتئاب عند عمر الستين وكيف استطاع الشفاء منه وعلي الرغم من صغر حجم الكتاب إلا إن فيه معلومات لا بأس بها عن طبيعة المرض و بعض طرق العلاج و الأسباب التي قد تؤدي للإصابة به و يؤكد في النهاية أن الاكتئاب ليس نهاية العالم وهو مرض يمكن قهره بدليل إن عدد لا حصر له من الرجال والنساء تعافوا منه و من ضمنهم الكاتب نفسه.
الكتاب محتواه بسيط..مش مأثر أوي كما يقال عنه ولكنه بالتأكيد كتاب إيجابي و يعطي أمل لكل من يمر بحالة اكتئاب أو أزمة ما كما إنه يساهم في التوعية بالمرض الذي لا يقل خطورة عن الكثير من الأمراض الاخري..
"وهكذا خرجنا، ومرة أخرى أبصرنا النجوم .."
December 30, 2023
تجربة ذاتية للكاتب مع محاولاته لوصف مرض الاكتئاب الذى عانى منه لدرجه اوصلته للرغبة فى الانتحار لولا انه تراجع فى اللحظة الاخيرة ولجأ الى المستشفى لكنه ذكر ايضا نماذج لشخصيات اصابها الإكتئاب ولم تنجو منه بل وصلت للانتحار من اصدقائه .
الكتاب دليل لمن لا يستطيع ان يستوعب معاناة مريض الاكتئاب ورغبة الكاتب فى ايجاد وصف اخر او كلمة أخرى عن الاكتئاب لان الناس يستهينوا به كثيرا ويظنون ان الجميع يمر بأوقات حزن ومشاكل وان الامر لايحتاج الى هذا التهويل فكلمة اكتئاب بالفعل متداولة جدا فكل من يصاب بالضيق يقول انه مكتئب لكن الاكتئاب اعمق بكثير . الكتاب ايضا دليل انه احيانا فى قمة نجاحنا من الممكن ان نصاب بالاكتئاب فالكاتب يصف ��جربته الشخصية حين سافر ليستلم جائزة من المفترض ان تجعله يطير من السعادة لكن نوبة الاكتئاب كانت اقوى فشعر انه لايستحق الجائزة وتدنت رؤيته لنفسه بشده .
الكتاب ايضا يعطى أمل لمريض الإكتئاب بأمكانية الشفاء واستعادة حياته وسعادته مرة أخرى . وأعتقد ان احد العوامل التى ساعدت الكاتب هى تفهم ومساندة زوجته وتفهم معارفه لحالته وحاجته الى الصمت .
وشبه الكاتب بخروج المصابين من حالة الاكتئاب بالخروج من الهاوية ومن الدرك الأسفل للجحيم .
١٩ / ٦ / ٢٠١٩
August 23, 2019
"باد بالهای جنون را حس کرده ام"
استایرن چقدر ملموس و واقعی، افسردگی رو تعریف کرده و توضیحش داده! از اینکه اسم بیماری در طول زمان، از مالیخولیا به افسردگی و دپرشن تغییر کرده، شاکیه؛ چرا که این اسامی جدید باعث شدن کسانی که شناختی از این بیماری ندارن، سطحی و پیشپاافتاده بدوننش! اسمهای جایگزین بهتری پیشنهاد شده تو کتاب، مثل: توفان مغزی، درهمریختگی یا کوفتگی عصبی، فروپاشی ذهن و...
" افسرد��ی درواقع یک توفان است ولی توفان تاریکی. خیلی زود پاسخها کند میشود، حالتی نزدیک به فلج و انرژی روانی به صفر کاهش مییابد. در نهایت بدن تحت تاثیر قرار میگیرد، از رمق میافتد و تحلیل میرود."
بهنظرم همهی کسانی که هیچ درکی از این بیماری ندارن لازمه که "ظلمت آشکار" رو بخونن که حداقل در مواجهه با افراد مبتلا، چرت و پرت تحویلشون ندن که " همهی ما حال بد رو تجربه کردیم و فقط خودت باید حال خودتو خوب کنی، مثبت فکر کنی و فلان!! "
" در ساحل نشسته باشی و به کسی که در گرداب است بگویی تقلا کن، کم از توهین نیست."
استایرن چقدر ملموس و واقعی، افسردگی رو تعریف کرده و توضیحش داده! از اینکه اسم بیماری در طول زمان، از مالیخولیا به افسردگی و دپرشن تغییر کرده، شاکیه؛ چرا که این اسامی جدید باعث شدن کسانی که شناختی از این بیماری ندارن، سطحی و پیشپاافتاده بدوننش! اسمهای جایگزین بهتری پیشنهاد شده تو کتاب، مثل: توفان مغزی، درهمریختگی یا کوفتگی عصبی، فروپاشی ذهن و...
" افسرد��ی درواقع یک توفان است ولی توفان تاریکی. خیلی زود پاسخها کند میشود، حالتی نزدیک به فلج و انرژی روانی به صفر کاهش مییابد. در نهایت بدن تحت تاثیر قرار میگیرد، از رمق میافتد و تحلیل میرود."
بهنظرم همهی کسانی که هیچ درکی از این بیماری ندارن لازمه که "ظلمت آشکار" رو بخونن که حداقل در مواجهه با افراد مبتلا، چرت و پرت تحویلشون ندن که " همهی ما حال بد رو تجربه کردیم و فقط خودت باید حال خودتو خوب کنی، مثبت فکر کنی و فلان!! "
" در ساحل نشسته باشی و به کسی که در گرداب است بگویی تقلا کن، کم از توهین نیست."
May 29, 2024
افسردگی بی آنکه تفاوتی قائل شود، همهی سنین، نژادها، مرامها و طبقات را مورد حمله قرار میدهد، گرچه زنان به شکل قابلتوجهی بیش از مردان در خطر ابتلا هستند و هنرمندان (بهخصوص شاعران) نسبت به این اختلال آسیبپذیرترند
ویلیام استایرن در چند بخش حائز اهمیتِ کتاب، به تشریح و اصلاح باورهای غلطی میپردازد که پیرامون افسردگی وجود دارد... از نوشتههایی که خوشبینانه تمام حالتهای افسردگی را به راحتی قابل کنترل میدانند، تا توصیههایی که برای رفع فوری افسردگی وجود دارد و به عقیدهی او چیزی جز شارلاتانبازی نیستند و زودباوریِ خوانندگانی که به سرعت تحتتأثیر وعدهی درمان سریع قرار میگیرند! البته تیغ تیز انتقاد او متوجه کسانی (اطرافیانی) است که کوتهفکرانه خودویرانگری را به قضاوت مینشینند.
رنج افسردگی شدید برای کسانی که به آن مبتلا نیستند کاملاً تصورناپذیر است. پیشگیری از بسیاری خودکشیها فقط در صورتی میسر است که آگاهی عمومی نسبت به طبیعت این رنج ایجاد شود. هرچند که عدهای به واسطهی دارو و درمان و بستری شدن از افسردگی جان سالم به در میبرند، ولی آن خیل عظیمی که مجبورند خود را به دست نابودی بسپارند، همان قدر شایستهی سرزنشاند که قربانیان سرطان لاعلاج
افسردگی وجوهِ گوناگون و طبیعتِ مرموزی دارد و در مقایسه با سایر بیماریهایی که انسان را به زانو در میآورند، رازهای خود را به دشواری برملا میکند. طبق گفتههای نویسنده، افسردگی چنان دلائل، علائم و روشهای درمانی پیچیدهای دارد که نتایج به دست آمده از تجربیات یک فرد برای نتیجهگیری به هیچ عنوان کافی نیست. حتی در روند درمانِ دارویی، تغییر حال بیمار تا حد زیادی به مقدار کلیِ محرک و پاسخ فرد وابسته است، به طوری که میزانِ تجویزی که برای یکی نوشداروست، ممکن است دامی در مسیر بهبود دیگری باشد و زمینهساز سقوط او شود. با این حال، تعداد زیادی از بیمارانِ گرفتار در چنگال افسردگی، پس از نجاتْ دوباره مبتلا خواهند شد. افسردگی قابل بازگشت است... عذابی سیزیفی
توضیحات استایرنِ امریکایی، به این قبیل تفسیرات و اصلاحاتِ روشنگرْ محدود نیست و در فصل دوم به تعریف خاطراتی جالبتوجه از دوستیِ نزدیک خود با رومن گاری و شرح گرفتاری او و همسر سابقش، ژان سیبرگ در گرداب افسردگی میپردازد. خاطراتی که در خلال بیان آنها، به تأثیرپذیریِ عمیق نویسنده -در دوران جوانى- از نوشتههاى مختلف آلبر کامو اشاره میشود.
از ترجمه تا طراحی جلد
در ترجمهی فارسی، واژهی
Madness
در انتهای عنوان اصلی کتاب؛ یعنی
“Darkness visible: a memoir of madness”
به
Depression
تقلیل معنا یافته است و دلیل این امر هرچند که قابل درک است اما توجیهپذیر نیست... نویسنده فصل چهارم کتاب خود را با اعتراضی شدید علیه سطحی و خنثی بودن واژهی
Depression
در نامیدنِ نوع بحرانی و مهارناپذیر این بیماریِ هولناک، آغاز میکند. به عقیدهی او افسردگیِ حاد، نوعی فروپاشی ذهنی است و لفظ سادهی «افسردگی»، شدت بیماری و عمق درد و رنج بیمار را نمیرساند.
از آنجایى که با دستکاریِ هوشمندانه (!)ی عنوان کتاب در ترجمهی فارسی، بحث و استدلال نویسنده به کلی نادیده گرفته شده است، لازم میبینم در اینجا تأکید کنم که خاطرات ویلیام استایرن در «ظلمت آشکار؛ خاطرات افسردگی»، با محوریت «افسردگی ماژور» مطرح میشود و اندوهِ گاهبهگاهی که امروزه بیش از همیشه گریبانگیر انسان مدرن است، موضوع بحث این کتاب کوچک نیست.
به طور کلی، ویراستاری متن کتاب در تصحیح و جایگزینی معادلهای مرسوم کلمات و عبارات در زبان فارسی از دقت و دلسوزی لازم برخوردار نیست و هرچه به پایان کتاب نزدیکتر میشویم، مشکلات و نارساییهای معنایی ترجمه در مقابله با متن اصلی بیشتر میشود.
در انتهای فصل سوم، لیستی از اسامی هنرمندانِ آفرینشگرِ شومبختی آورده شده است که با خودکشی به عذابِ افسردگی پایان دادهاند و در میان آنها نام ونسان ونگوگ، نقاش هلندی هم به چشم میخورد. ظاهراً این موضوع و همچنین تحلیل یک خطیِ نویسنده در صفحهی پایانی که به تابلوی معروف «شب پرستاره» اشاره دارد، جرقهی ایدهی ناب و خلاقانه (!)ی طراحی جلد نسخهی فارسی کتاب را زده است :)
ستارههای چرخانِ جنونآسای ونگوگ، طلیعهی سقوط هنرمن�� در جنون و نابودی است
ویلیام استایرن در چند بخش حائز اهمیتِ کتاب، به تشریح و اصلاح باورهای غلطی میپردازد که پیرامون افسردگی وجود دارد... از نوشتههایی که خوشبینانه تمام حالتهای افسردگی را به راحتی قابل کنترل میدانند، تا توصیههایی که برای رفع فوری افسردگی وجود دارد و به عقیدهی او چیزی جز شارلاتانبازی نیستند و زودباوریِ خوانندگانی که به سرعت تحتتأثیر وعدهی درمان سریع قرار میگیرند! البته تیغ تیز انتقاد او متوجه کسانی (اطرافیانی) است که کوتهفکرانه خودویرانگری را به قضاوت مینشینند.
رنج افسردگی شدید برای کسانی که به آن مبتلا نیستند کاملاً تصورناپذیر است. پیشگیری از بسیاری خودکشیها فقط در صورتی میسر است که آگاهی عمومی نسبت به طبیعت این رنج ایجاد شود. هرچند که عدهای به واسطهی دارو و درمان و بستری شدن از افسردگی جان سالم به در میبرند، ولی آن خیل عظیمی که مجبورند خود را به دست نابودی بسپارند، همان قدر شایستهی سرزنشاند که قربانیان سرطان لاعلاج
افسردگی وجوهِ گوناگون و طبیعتِ مرموزی دارد و در مقایسه با سایر بیماریهایی که انسان را به زانو در میآورند، رازهای خود را به دشواری برملا میکند. طبق گفتههای نویسنده، افسردگی چنان دلائل، علائم و روشهای درمانی پیچیدهای دارد که نتایج به دست آمده از تجربیات یک فرد برای نتیجهگیری به هیچ عنوان کافی نیست. حتی در روند درمانِ دارویی، تغییر حال بیمار تا حد زیادی به مقدار کلیِ محرک و پاسخ فرد وابسته است، به طوری که میزانِ تجویزی که برای یکی نوشداروست، ممکن است دامی در مسیر بهبود دیگری باشد و زمینهساز سقوط او شود. با این حال، تعداد زیادی از بیمارانِ گرفتار در چنگال افسردگی، پس از نجاتْ دوباره مبتلا خواهند شد. افسردگی قابل بازگشت است... عذابی سیزیفی
توضیحات استایرنِ امریکایی، به این قبیل تفسیرات و اصلاحاتِ روشنگرْ محدود نیست و در فصل دوم به تعریف خاطراتی جالبتوجه از دوستیِ نزدیک خود با رومن گاری و شرح گرفتاری او و همسر سابقش، ژان سیبرگ در گرداب افسردگی میپردازد. خاطراتی که در خلال بیان آنها، به تأثیرپذیریِ عمیق نویسنده -در دوران جوانى- از نوشتههاى مختلف آلبر کامو اشاره میشود.
از ترجمه تا طراحی جلد
در ترجمهی فارسی، واژهی
Madness
در انتهای عنوان اصلی کتاب؛ یعنی
“Darkness visible: a memoir of madness”
به
Depression
تقلیل معنا یافته است و دلیل این امر هرچند که قابل درک است اما توجیهپذیر نیست... نویسنده فصل چهارم کتاب خود را با اعتراضی شدید علیه سطحی و خنثی بودن واژهی
Depression
در نامیدنِ نوع بحرانی و مهارناپذیر این بیماریِ هولناک، آغاز میکند. به عقیدهی او افسردگیِ حاد، نوعی فروپاشی ذهنی است و لفظ سادهی «افسردگی»، شدت بیماری و عمق درد و رنج بیمار را نمیرساند.
از آنجایى که با دستکاریِ هوشمندانه (!)ی عنوان کتاب در ترجمهی فارسی، بحث و استدلال نویسنده به کلی نادیده گرفته شده است، لازم میبینم در اینجا تأکید کنم که خاطرات ویلیام استایرن در «ظلمت آشکار؛ خاطرات افسردگی»، با محوریت «افسردگی ماژور» مطرح میشود و اندوهِ گاهبهگاهی که امروزه بیش از همیشه گریبانگیر انسان مدرن است، موضوع بحث این کتاب کوچک نیست.
به طور کلی، ویراستاری متن کتاب در تصحیح و جایگزینی معادلهای مرسوم کلمات و عبارات در زبان فارسی از دقت و دلسوزی لازم برخوردار نیست و هرچه به پایان کتاب نزدیکتر میشویم، مشکلات و نارساییهای معنایی ترجمه در مقابله با متن اصلی بیشتر میشود.
در انتهای فصل سوم، لیستی از اسامی هنرمندانِ آفرینشگرِ شومبختی آورده شده است که با خودکشی به عذابِ افسردگی پایان دادهاند و در میان آنها نام ونسان ونگوگ، نقاش هلندی هم به چشم میخورد. ظاهراً این موضوع و همچنین تحلیل یک خطیِ نویسنده در صفحهی پایانی که به تابلوی معروف «شب پرستاره» اشاره دارد، جرقهی ایدهی ناب و خلاقانه (!)ی طراحی جلد نسخهی فارسی کتاب را زده است :)
ستارههای چرخانِ جنونآسای ونگوگ، طلیعهی سقوط هنرمن�� در جنون و نابودی است
August 6, 2020
عندما يكون الظلام محيطا بك فالأمر مؤلم، لكن أن يكون الظلام بداخلك فذلك شيء لا يوصف. ألم لا يمكن وصفه للآخرين ولا يمكنهم رؤيته، لذا غالبا ماتكون العلة بالنسبة لهم غير موجودة وإنما هي شيء تتصنعه أو تبالغ في التأثر به.
الاكتئاب هو داء العصر وأكثرنا قد تصارع معه لفترة طويلة أو قصيرة في إحدى محطات حياته. يقبع ذلك المفترس في إحدى الزوايا الخفية في نفوسنا ويقتات على أرواحنا، وقد يسبب أثرا لا يمحى. من هنا لنا أن نلمس شجاعة ويليام ستيرون المتمثلة بكتابة هذه السيرة الذاتية لمعاناته مع الاكتئاب. من الواضح بين السطور أنه ليس مسرورا بكشف بعض خصوصياته، بل أن القارئ سيخرج من الكتاب وهو لم يعرف الكثير عن حياة المؤلف وعلاقاته سوى في دائرة الظلام التي سكنت قلب الكاتب وفاضت من جوله.
الكتاب قصير ومعبر، لكنه بعيد عن الإغراق في العاطفية والتعابير الإنشائية، بل ركز ستايرون على مناقشة الأسباب التي دفعت به إلى البئر، وكذلك كل ما ساهم في تدهوره أو تحسنه. نستكشف مع الكاتب بعض الأفكار المهمة مثل:
- يمكن للاكتئاب أن يصيب أي شخص بغض النظر عن المرحلة العمرية أو المكانة الاجتماعية أو الحالة المادية.
- اختيار الطبيب وبالذات نوع الدواء يجب أن يتم بحرص شديد.
- هناك بعض الأفكار المغلوطة عن العلاج النفسي مثل أن المستشفيات عبارة عن معتقلات تعذيب للمرضى النفسيين.
- أخيرا والأهم من كل ماسبق هو أن الاكتئاب مرض قابل للعلاج مهما طالت المعاناة ومهما كا��ت وحشيته.
اكتشفت أن عددا كبيرا من الأصدقاء في الموقع قد سبقني لقراءة هذا الكتاب مما يعني أن مجتمع القرّاء هو مجتمع سعيد وكثير المرح ولا يعاني من مشاكل اجتماعية.
أخير يطيب لي مشاركة هذا المقطع الذي وجدته من أكثر المواد إفادة وخاصة لمن يريد مساعدة صديق أو قريب يرزح تحت وطأة الاكتئاب.
https://youtu.be/m-8tQ_TYLgk
الاكتئاب هو داء العصر وأكثرنا قد تصارع معه لفترة طويلة أو قصيرة في إحدى محطات حياته. يقبع ذلك المفترس في إحدى الزوايا الخفية في نفوسنا ويقتات على أرواحنا، وقد يسبب أثرا لا يمحى. من هنا لنا أن نلمس شجاعة ويليام ستيرون المتمثلة بكتابة هذه السيرة الذاتية لمعاناته مع الاكتئاب. من الواضح بين السطور أنه ليس مسرورا بكشف بعض خصوصياته، بل أن القارئ سيخرج من الكتاب وهو لم يعرف الكثير عن حياة المؤلف وعلاقاته سوى في دائرة الظلام التي سكنت قلب الكاتب وفاضت من جوله.
الكتاب قصير ومعبر، لكنه بعيد عن الإغراق في العاطفية والتعابير الإنشائية، بل ركز ستايرون على مناقشة الأسباب التي دفعت به إلى البئر، وكذلك كل ما ساهم في تدهوره أو تحسنه. نستكشف مع الكاتب بعض الأفكار المهمة مثل:
- يمكن للاكتئاب أن يصيب أي شخص بغض النظر عن المرحلة العمرية أو المكانة الاجتماعية أو الحالة المادية.
- اختيار الطبيب وبالذات نوع الدواء يجب أن يتم بحرص شديد.
- هناك بعض الأفكار المغلوطة عن العلاج النفسي مثل أن المستشفيات عبارة عن معتقلات تعذيب للمرضى النفسيين.
- أخيرا والأهم من كل ماسبق هو أن الاكتئاب مرض قابل للعلاج مهما طالت المعاناة ومهما كا��ت وحشيته.
اكتشفت أن عددا كبيرا من الأصدقاء في الموقع قد سبقني لقراءة هذا الكتاب مما يعني أن مجتمع القرّاء هو مجتمع سعيد وكثير المرح ولا يعاني من مشاكل اجتماعية.
أخير يطيب لي مشاركة هذا المقطع الذي وجدته من أكثر المواد إفادة وخاصة لمن يريد مساعدة صديق أو قريب يرزح تحت وطأة الاكتئاب.
https://youtu.be/m-8tQ_TYLgk
April 20, 2023
*يُرجى تشغيل مقطوعة "ألتو رابسودي" تلحين "يوهانس برامز" لرُبما تنقذك كما أنقذت ويليام*
"أن هؤلاء الذين لم يُجربوا الألم الذي يُسببه الاكتئاب الحاد لا يُمكنهم بأي حال أن يتصوره، وأن الاكتئاب يُمكن أن يؤدي بضحيته في حالات كثيرة، حينما تتجاوز المعاناة قُدرة المريض على الاحتمال"
مرض الاكتئاب بكل تأكيد لهو مرض لعين، فأعراضه الخفية التي تكون كُلها بداخل صدرك وداخل عقلك وداخل روحك.. تلك الأعراض عسيرة الشفاء.. فكيف تُشفي ما لا تستطيع لمسه؟
من منا لم يُصاب بهذا المرض؟ من منا لم يزهد الحياة فجأة وتمنى أن يكون الموت الزائر القادم له؟ أحياناً تتملكك رغبة في الخلاص.. فقد فقدت شغفك بكل شيء.. حتى بتلك الأشياء التي كُنت مولعاً بها. فقط تُريد النهاية لكُل ذلك العذاب الكامن تحت فروة رأسك وداخل جُدران روحك.
لقد سئمت الحياة يا الله، ألا يُمكن أن تُعجل بوفاتي وتُريحني؟
أو
لماذا لا أنتحر؟
هل ستُسامحني يا الله؟
أعلم أن الإنتحار مُحرم ولكنني.. قد ملأ السواد روحي.
في سيرة ذاتية مُلهمة ومليئة بالإيجابية رغم سواد القصة يحكي لنا "ويليام ستايرون" معركته مع الاكتئاب الذي خرج منها منتصراً بكل تأكيد.. ولكن ويلات المعركة كانت جارحة ومؤلمة وستترك بصمة أبد الدهر بداخله.
فعلى الرغم من كون الكتاب صغير الحجم.. ولكنه شديد التأثير.. فبكلمات بسيطة وبأحداث أبسط لخص لنا "ويليام" معاناته ومُعاناتنا مع ذلك المرض اللعين.. الذي قد لا تعرف أنك مُصاب به!
"أكاد أكون جاهلاً تماماً بمرض الاكتئاب، والذي قد لا يقل خطورة عن مرض السكر أو السرطان.."
هذه السيرة الذاتية التي بين يديك تستحق القراءة، وحتى أني تمنيت أن تكون أكبر من ذلك ليوسع لنا الكاتب تجاربه مع الإنتحار والاكتئاب.. ويُحدثنا أكثر عن ذلك الوقت الذي اقترب من مُقابلة "ألبير كامو" لولا وفاة الأخير في حادث سير.. هل انتحر "كامو"؟
وأن يتحدث ويتحدث ويتحدث حتى يُشرح لنا الاكتئاب تفصيلاً ولكنه وضح شيئاً شديد الأهمية.. أن شكل الاكتئاب ليس ثابتاً.. فهو يختلف باختلاف التجارب والظروف التي يمر بها كُل شخصاً فينا.. ردود فعلي مُختلفة عن غيري.. والاختبارات والأهوال التي نوضع فيها ليست متساوية كالسطور.. بل أنها ما تُميزنا.. وما تجعل كُلاً منا فريداً في حياته عن غيره.
وهذا الإقتباس القادم بكل تأكيد من أهم الإقتباسات الواردة بالكتاب.. فكيف تكتب عن شعور المُصاب بالاكتئاب؟ هذه هي الطريقة:
"أما المُصاب بالاكتئاب فليس له مثل هذا الخيار، ومن ثم يجد نفسه في مواقف اجتماعية وأسرية لا طاقة له بها. وفي هذه المواقف، وعلى الرغم من الألم الذي يلتهم دماغه، يجب أن يظهر بوجه يُشبه ذلك الذي يظهر به في الظروف الطبيعية ووسط رفا��ه وأصحابه. ويجب عليه أن يحاول الإنخراط في الأحاديث التافهة، وإن يُجيب عن الأسئلة التي توجه إليه، ويومئ ويُكشر، بل وحتى عليه، أعانه الله، أن يبتسم. كُل ذلك يحدث على الرغم من أن محاولته التلفظ ببضع كلمات بسيطة تُمثل له معاناة رهيبة".
يا الله على دقة الوصف!
وفي الختام..
يُنصح بذلك الكتاب جداً وضعه على أولوية قراءاتك.. رُبما يكون سبباً يجعلك تقول هذه الجملة بصدق:
"وهكذا خرجنا، ومرة أخرى أبصرنا النجوم..".
November 16, 2018
خيلي خوب افسردگي رو توضيح داده بود و به خوبي نشون داده بود ممكنه افسردگي سالهاي سال با ما باشه بدون اينكه خودمون اطلاع داشته باشيم.
May 12, 2023
مذكرات متقطعة لروائي عانى من الاكتئاب حد الانتحار
اجمل ما في هذا الكتاب هو وصفه لحالة المريض بالاكتئاب
ليصبح دليل لمن حول المرضى ليتعرفوا على معاناة ذويهم مع مرض العصر
وصفه الدقيق مذهل وخصوصا لمن عانى من جزء من تلك الاعراض او كلها
تعرف على ما لم يكن ممكنا شرحه تفصيليا
بالطبع الكتاب ليس مخصص للمرضى ولن ينتهي الى وضع خطه علاجية
هو فقط يسجل مذكراته حول معاناته التي وصلت به الي محاولة الانتحار
كتاب مؤلم ويجب تقديره بشكل اكبر
شكرا صديقتي ايمان خالد على الترشيح المميز جدا ❤❤
وشكرا اصدقاء القراءة على المشاركة السريعة الرائعة ❤🌹
اجمل ما في هذا الكتاب هو وصفه لحالة المريض بالاكتئاب
ليصبح دليل لمن حول المرضى ليتعرفوا على معاناة ذويهم مع مرض العصر
وصفه الدقيق مذهل وخصوصا لمن عانى من جزء من تلك الاعراض او كلها
تعرف على ما لم يكن ممكنا شرحه تفصيليا
بالطبع الكتاب ليس مخصص للمرضى ولن ينتهي الى وضع خطه علاجية
هو فقط يسجل مذكراته حول معاناته التي وصلت به الي محاولة الانتحار
كتاب مؤلم ويجب تقديره بشكل اكبر
شكرا صديقتي ايمان خالد على الترشيح المميز جدا ❤❤
وشكرا اصدقاء القراءة على المشاركة السريعة الرائعة ❤🌹
May 7, 2024
عظيمٌ جداً ، مؤلمٌ جداً ، مؤثرٌ و تنويري..
................... .
"ولكنّ هذه البهجة الهشة لم تكنْ سوى مظهرٍ زائفٍ معتاد ولم تكنْ تعني عندي شيئاً ذا بال، لأني كنتُ واثقاً أنّ مشاعرَ التعاسةِ سوف تدهمني قبل حلول المساء"
"وأنا على يقينٍ بأنني في إحدى نوباتِ الأرقِ هذه أدركتُ وكان إدراكاً غريباً وصادماً و يشبه ذلك الذي يحدث مع بعض الحقائق الميتافيزيقية المجهولة منذ امدٍ بعيد، إنّ حالتي هذه سوف تكلفني حياتي اذا استمرت على هذا المنوال"
" ويُعتبَرُ فقدانُ تقديرِ الذات عَرَضاً مشهوراً، وقد تلاشى إحساسي بذاتي تماماً وتلاشتْ معه اي قدرةٍ للاعتماد على الذات وقد يتفاقم هذا الفقدان سريعاً ليتحول الى اتكالٍ ومن الاتكال الى خوفٍ طفولي وتتملكُ المرءَ الخشيةُ من فقدانِ كلّ الاشياءِ وكذلك كلّ الاشخاصِ المقربين لديه والاعزاء "
"ويمكنني أن أذهبَ الى حدِّ القولِ أن ضحايا الاكتئابِ ربما كان بوسعهم أن يتحاشوا الكثيرَ من عواقبِه الوخيمةِ لو قُدّر لهم أن يحظوا بدعم كالذي منحتني إياه روز "
" وفي المستشفى تشاركتُ مع المرض ما قد يكونُ المعروف الوحيد الذي يُسديه الاكتئابُ على مضضٍ لضحاياه وهو حالة الأستسلام التام، فحتى هؤلاء الذين يرون أنّ أي نوعٍ من العلاج لا طائل من ورائه يمكنهم ان يتطلعوا الى إنقضاءِ العاصفة في نهاية المطاف "
" إنّ كلَّ من يستعيد صحته هناك غالباً ما يستعيد القدرةَ على الفرحِ والسكينة وربما يكونُ ذلك خير تعويض عن إحتماله ذلك اليأس الذي مابعده يأس..
وهكذا خرجنا..
ومرةً أُخرى أبصرنا النجوم "
................... .
"ولكنّ هذه البهجة الهشة لم تكنْ سوى مظهرٍ زائفٍ معتاد ولم تكنْ تعني عندي شيئاً ذا بال، لأني كنتُ واثقاً أنّ مشاعرَ التعاسةِ سوف تدهمني قبل حلول المساء"
"وأنا على يقينٍ بأنني في إحدى نوباتِ الأرقِ هذه أدركتُ وكان إدراكاً غريباً وصادماً و يشبه ذلك الذي يحدث مع بعض الحقائق الميتافيزيقية المجهولة منذ امدٍ بعيد، إنّ حالتي هذه سوف تكلفني حياتي اذا استمرت على هذا المنوال"
" ويُعتبَرُ فقدانُ تقديرِ الذات عَرَضاً مشهوراً، وقد تلاشى إحساسي بذاتي تماماً وتلاشتْ معه اي قدرةٍ للاعتماد على الذات وقد يتفاقم هذا الفقدان سريعاً ليتحول الى اتكالٍ ومن الاتكال الى خوفٍ طفولي وتتملكُ المرءَ الخشيةُ من فقدانِ كلّ الاشياءِ وكذلك كلّ الاشخاصِ المقربين لديه والاعزاء "
"ويمكنني أن أذهبَ الى حدِّ القولِ أن ضحايا الاكتئابِ ربما كان بوسعهم أن يتحاشوا الكثيرَ من عواقبِه الوخيمةِ لو قُدّر لهم أن يحظوا بدعم كالذي منحتني إياه روز "
" وفي المستشفى تشاركتُ مع المرض ما قد يكونُ المعروف الوحيد الذي يُسديه الاكتئابُ على مضضٍ لضحاياه وهو حالة الأستسلام التام، فحتى هؤلاء الذين يرون أنّ أي نوعٍ من العلاج لا طائل من ورائه يمكنهم ان يتطلعوا الى إنقضاءِ العاصفة في نهاية المطاف "
" إنّ كلَّ من يستعيد صحته هناك غالباً ما يستعيد القدرةَ على الفرحِ والسكينة وربما يكونُ ذلك خير تعويض عن إحتماله ذلك اليأس الذي مابعده يأس..
وهكذا خرجنا..
ومرةً أُخرى أبصرنا النجوم "
June 16, 2022
عن تجربة الكاتب مع الأكتئاب..والتي اختلف معه في تسميتها مذكرات الجنون ، لأننا لو تحرينا الدقة فالاكتئاب الذي يعانيه لا يمكن أن ندعوه بالجنون ..
وبالرغم من تباين درجات الإصابة بالاكتئاب إلا إن جميع المصابين دون استثناء يتشاركون شعور موحد وهو الانسحاق تحت وطأة الألم النفسي ..
مما أثار انتباهي في هذه المذكرات ، أن الطبيب المعالج سارع بتوصيف العلاج الدوائي دون أخذ الأعراض الجانبية أو التفاعلات الدوائية بعين الاعتبار..مما أدى الى تدهور الحالة النفسية والصحية للكاتب ..
"The side effects and drug_drug interaction"
بل لم يلجأ الطبيب للعلاج النفسي أو السلوكي ��لمعرفي كمحاولة لتدارك الحالة إلا متأخراً...
بالنهاية لا يسعني سوى ابداء اعجابي بإرادة الكاتب التي فتح بها كوة من ضوء في ذاك الظلام المرئي...
وبالرغم من تباين درجات الإصابة بالاكتئاب إلا إن جميع المصابين دون استثناء يتشاركون شعور موحد وهو الانسحاق تحت وطأة الألم النفسي ..
مما أثار انتباهي في هذه المذكرات ، أن الطبيب المعالج سارع بتوصيف العلاج الدوائي دون أخذ الأعراض الجانبية أو التفاعلات الدوائية بعين الاعتبار..مما أدى الى تدهور الحالة النفسية والصحية للكاتب ..
"The side effects and drug_drug interaction"
بل لم يلجأ الطبيب للعلاج النفسي أو السلوكي ��لمعرفي كمحاولة لتدارك الحالة إلا متأخراً...
بالنهاية لا يسعني سوى ابداء اعجابي بإرادة الكاتب التي فتح بها كوة من ضوء في ذاك الظلام المرئي...
September 1, 2013
This is a stirring memoir of Styron's depression, which nearly killed him. I had seen multiple references to this book, all of them praising its insight into the despair that a depressed person can feel.
"In depression this faith in deliverance, in ultimate restoration, is absent. The pain is unrelenting, and what makes the condition intolerable is the foreknowledge that no remedy will come -- not in a day, an hour, a month, or a minute. If there is mild relief, one knows that it is only temporary; more pain will follow. It is hopelessness even more than pain that crushes the soul."
Styron said he doesn't know what caused such an intense bout of melancholy in 1985, but one factor could have been turning 60. He also wondered if the fact that he stopped drinking alcohol caused his despondency: "Like a great many American writers, whose sometimes lethal addiction to alcohol has become so legendary as to provide in itself a stream of studies and books, I used alcohol as the magical conduit to fantasy and euphoria, and to the enhancement of the imagination ... Alcohol was an invaluable senior partner of my intellect, besides being a friend whose ministrations I sought daily." (An alcoholic would call this a classic case of denial, but that's another story.)
He realized that depression had been "tapping at my door for decades," ever since his mother died when he was 13. Styron read extensively about the disease, even paging through the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, which is grim reading, indeed.
He most identified with the feeling of loss as described in the literature: "Loss in all of its manifestations is the touchstone of depression -- in the progress of the disease and, most likely, in its origin. I would gradually be persuaded that devastating loss in childhood figured as a probable genesis of my own disorder; meanwhile, I felt loss at every hand ... One dreads the loss of all things, all people close and dear. There is an acute fear of abandonment. Being alone in the house, even for a moment, caused me exquisite panic and trepidation."
Styron is a gifted writer and his descriptions were very moving. For example, he said he usually felt the most depressed later in the day: "Afternoons were still the worst, beginning at about three o'clock, when I'd feel the horror, like some poisonous fogbank, roll in upon my mind, forcing me into bed." (This quote was also used in the Soderbergh movie "Side Effects.")
Styron sought help from a psychiatrist, who put him on a series of different medications, none of which seemed to help. After several months of taking pills, he reached the point where suicide seemed to be imminent. He made preparations, such as updating his will and getting rid of a private journal he didn't want anyone else to read. But when it came time to write a suicide note, Styron struggled: "It turned out that putting together a suicide note, which I felt obsessed with a necessity to compose, was the most difficult task of writing that I had ever tackled. There were too many people to acknowledge, to thank, to bequeath final bouquets. And finally I couldn't manage the sheer dirgelike solemnity of it."
But before Styron attempted the act, he heard a stirring piece of music from Brahms one night, and he remembered the joys of his family and of his work and he realized he couldn't abandon this life. He was admitted to a hospital the next day, which was his salvation. "It is something of a paradox that in this austere place with its locked and wired doors and desolate green hallways -- ambulances screeching night and day ten floors below -- I found the repose, the assuagement of the tempest in my brain, that I was unable to find in my quiet farmhouse."
So, why would someone read an 84-page memoir of depression? I think it might be a comfort to both those who have struggled with the disease or those who love someone who has depression, in an effort to better understand what they're going through. Styron does not claim that his experience is by any means universal, but like all good books, it reveals some fundamental human truths.
Note: One of the places I saw this book referenced was in Christopher Hitchens' memoir, "Hitch-22." In it, Hitch described a dinner he had with Styron. The waiter recognized Styon's name and said the book "Darkness Visible" saved his life. When the waiter left, Hitch asked Styron if that sort of thing happened often. "Oh, all the time. I even get the police calling up to ask if I'll come on the line and talk to the man who's threatening to jump."
"In depression this faith in deliverance, in ultimate restoration, is absent. The pain is unrelenting, and what makes the condition intolerable is the foreknowledge that no remedy will come -- not in a day, an hour, a month, or a minute. If there is mild relief, one knows that it is only temporary; more pain will follow. It is hopelessness even more than pain that crushes the soul."
Styron said he doesn't know what caused such an intense bout of melancholy in 1985, but one factor could have been turning 60. He also wondered if the fact that he stopped drinking alcohol caused his despondency: "Like a great many American writers, whose sometimes lethal addiction to alcohol has become so legendary as to provide in itself a stream of studies and books, I used alcohol as the magical conduit to fantasy and euphoria, and to the enhancement of the imagination ... Alcohol was an invaluable senior partner of my intellect, besides being a friend whose ministrations I sought daily." (An alcoholic would call this a classic case of denial, but that's another story.)
He realized that depression had been "tapping at my door for decades," ever since his mother died when he was 13. Styron read extensively about the disease, even paging through the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, which is grim reading, indeed.
He most identified with the feeling of loss as described in the literature: "Loss in all of its manifestations is the touchstone of depression -- in the progress of the disease and, most likely, in its origin. I would gradually be persuaded that devastating loss in childhood figured as a probable genesis of my own disorder; meanwhile, I felt loss at every hand ... One dreads the loss of all things, all people close and dear. There is an acute fear of abandonment. Being alone in the house, even for a moment, caused me exquisite panic and trepidation."
Styron is a gifted writer and his descriptions were very moving. For example, he said he usually felt the most depressed later in the day: "Afternoons were still the worst, beginning at about three o'clock, when I'd feel the horror, like some poisonous fogbank, roll in upon my mind, forcing me into bed." (This quote was also used in the Soderbergh movie "Side Effects.")
Styron sought help from a psychiatrist, who put him on a series of different medications, none of which seemed to help. After several months of taking pills, he reached the point where suicide seemed to be imminent. He made preparations, such as updating his will and getting rid of a private journal he didn't want anyone else to read. But when it came time to write a suicide note, Styron struggled: "It turned out that putting together a suicide note, which I felt obsessed with a necessity to compose, was the most difficult task of writing that I had ever tackled. There were too many people to acknowledge, to thank, to bequeath final bouquets. And finally I couldn't manage the sheer dirgelike solemnity of it."
But before Styron attempted the act, he heard a stirring piece of music from Brahms one night, and he remembered the joys of his family and of his work and he realized he couldn't abandon this life. He was admitted to a hospital the next day, which was his salvation. "It is something of a paradox that in this austere place with its locked and wired doors and desolate green hallways -- ambulances screeching night and day ten floors below -- I found the repose, the assuagement of the tempest in my brain, that I was unable to find in my quiet farmhouse."
So, why would someone read an 84-page memoir of depression? I think it might be a comfort to both those who have struggled with the disease or those who love someone who has depression, in an effort to better understand what they're going through. Styron does not claim that his experience is by any means universal, but like all good books, it reveals some fundamental human truths.
Note: One of the places I saw this book referenced was in Christopher Hitchens' memoir, "Hitch-22." In it, Hitch described a dinner he had with Styron. The waiter recognized Styon's name and said the book "Darkness Visible" saved his life. When the waiter left, Hitch asked Styron if that sort of thing happened often. "Oh, all the time. I even get the police calling up to ask if I'll come on the line and talk to the man who's threatening to jump."
July 16, 2018
با اینکه هوای کتاب، خاکستری و مه گرفته بود ، اما باید اعتراف کنم شرح نویسنده از دوران بحرانی اش، آن چنان پرقدرت و شفاف بود که گاهی حس می کردم پا به پایش دارم آرام آرام دچار همان برگ ریزانی می شوم که او ! و خدا را شکر که هر دو عاقبت به خیر شدیم :)
و یک نویسنده (یا هر فرد دیگری) باید به راستی هنرمند باشد که تلخ ترین تجربه زندگی اش را ، آن چنان بی رحم، گویا و در عین حال زیبا بنویسد، نه؟
ستاره ها هم برای شرح صادقانه استایرن و هم ترجمه ب��یار خوب افشین رضاپور
و این گونه قدم پیش گذاشتیم و ستاره ها را دوباره نظاره کردیم..... ص۷۲
و یک نویسنده (یا هر فرد دیگری) باید به راستی هنرمند باشد که تلخ ترین تجربه زندگی اش را ، آن چنان بی رحم، گویا و در عین حال زیبا بنویسد، نه؟
ستاره ها هم برای شرح صادقانه استایرن و هم ترجمه ب��یار خوب افشین رضاپور
و این گونه قدم پیش گذاشتیم و ستاره ها را دوباره نظاره کردیم..... ص۷۲
December 26, 2018
خیلی کتاب خوبی بود.
اول از همه، قطع خوب و باریکی داشت. تقریبا تماماش رو توی مترو خوندم. قابلیت خیلی خوبی بود و منو برد سمت اینکه کتابهایی از این قطع برای مترو برای خودم دست و پا کنم.
نویسنده خیلی خوب از افسردگیِ حاد حرف زده بود. تمام نشانگانهاش رو اورده بود، نشونههایی که هرکس با توجه به تجربهش بخشی ازشون رو تجربه کرده.
مسیر افسردگی رو تمام و کمال رسم کرده بود و ازونجایی که افسردگی از رگ گردن به ما نزدیکتره خوندن این کتاب ميتونه دلگرمی و تسلی خوبی برای همهی آدما باشه.
اول از همه، قطع خوب و باریکی داشت. تقریبا تماماش رو توی مترو خوندم. قابلیت خیلی خوبی بود و منو برد سمت اینکه کتابهایی از این قطع برای مترو برای خودم دست و پا کنم.
نویسنده خیلی خوب از افسردگیِ حاد حرف زده بود. تمام نشانگانهاش رو اورده بود، نشونههایی که هرکس با توجه به تجربهش بخشی ازشون رو تجربه کرده.
مسیر افسردگی رو تمام و کمال رسم کرده بود و ازونجایی که افسردگی از رگ گردن به ما نزدیکتره خوندن این کتاب ميتونه دلگرمی و تسلی خوبی برای همهی آدما باشه.
December 20, 2020
4.5 ⭐
“There is a region in the experience of pain where the certainty of alleviation often permits superhuman endurance…. In depression this faith in deliverance, in ultimate restoration, is absent.”
Darkness Visible is a very personal and candid account of William Styron’s own experience with depression. I found exactly what I was looking for in this book. William has the talent as a writer to give proper expression to depression, an experience that has been, inherently, very hard for victims to convey to their loved ones. For this reason, as well as the potential for a degree of solace, I actually believe this book would be a beneficial read for sufferers of depression. For non-sufferers, it may relieve some of the helplessness that comes from the knowledge that someone you are close to is hurting and there’s seemingly nothing you can do to help.
”Loss in all of its manifestations is the touchstone of depression.”
I had a depression of sorts during my High School years. I can definitely look back and see that now. It manifested itself in a lack of confidence, low self-esteem and a lack of conviction in choices that I made as well as bouts of self-hate and intense emotional pain. It was nowhere close to the debilitating level that Styron writes about throughout this memoir but the signs were there. My old man passed away in ’95 when I was just 7 and an Aunty was only just recently recounting the days thereafter. I had become withdrawn and quiet, she tells me, my usual hyperactive and jovial disposition was gone, the spark of a carefree youth had faded ever so slightly from my eyes. I think I subconsciously sought out replacement male role-models, my older brother, an uncle, a teacher, a sports coach, just to watch and observe. Luckily for me, these were all very positive but I don’t wish to place an inordinate amount of credit on these individuals who passively and unknowingly guided me off a path that very well could have led to serious depression. Ultimately, it’s my mother that has always offered unwavering love and support and who made me the man I am today.
There is a defensive wall that family and friends erect upon being given the news that their loved one has committed suicide. They argue, “He wouldn’t have done that, he seemed fine!”, “She was stronger than that.” While meaning well and wanting to protect that person’s image it is actually doing the opposite because there should be nothing to protect. The stigma of suicide and the negative connotations regarding the victim are an insinuation of weakness when, in reality, when the darkness reaches its greatest depths, there’s little that the individual can do without hospitalisation and dogged support from family and friends. In a way I feel that the arguments are more a defence for themselves. To accept that you knew something was wrong is to accept that maybe, just maybe, you could’ve done more to help.
At one stage, Styron concludes that the “efficacy of psychotherapy… at the advanced stage I was in has to be virtually nil.” My first reaction to this was, well if a professional is of no help, what good can an untrained friend or relative do. Alas, as I read further, William mentioned several times that the support of his wife and friends were an absolute necessity in his eventual recovery. Simply reading this, took a portion of the weight of helplessness off my own shoulders.
”Not for an instant could I let out of my sight the endlessly patient soul who had become nanny, mommy, comforter, priestess, and, most importantly, confidante – a counsellor of rock-like centrality to my existence and whose wisdom far exceeded that of Dr.Gold.”
Ultimately, hospitalisation was Styron’s healer, Seclusion and time, though he acknowledges that every case is different and what worked for him may not be the answer for another. He attributes the escalation of his illness, at least partially, to bad medical advice or poorly handled psychotherapy. Whilst not devaluing the results that others have achieved, he surmises that his experience was not great. His psychiatrist had him taking 3 times the recommended dosage of Halcion for sleep and when William first brought up the option of being hospitalised, the doctor warned him off it due to the stigma of mental health. That is, to a degree, a sign of the times, as this book was written in 1990 but, nevertheless, a concerning look at the potential for negligence in the field of psychotherapy.
Though possibly outdated in some of the medical terminology and diagnoses, I really valued this book for the insight that it offered. I highly recommend it to any who suffer from depression or know of someone who does. It doesn’t hold the ever-elusive answer to what is the cure for depression but it may help in your understanding of what sufferers are going through.
”A tough job, this; calling “Chin up!” from the safety of the shore to a drowning person is tantamount to insult, but it has been shown over and over again that if the encouragement is dogged enough – and the support equally committed and passionate – the endangered one can nearly always be saved.”
“There is a region in the experience of pain where the certainty of alleviation often permits superhuman endurance…. In depression this faith in deliverance, in ultimate restoration, is absent.”
Darkness Visible is a very personal and candid account of William Styron’s own experience with depression. I found exactly what I was looking for in this book. William has the talent as a writer to give proper expression to depression, an experience that has been, inherently, very hard for victims to convey to their loved ones. For this reason, as well as the potential for a degree of solace, I actually believe this book would be a beneficial read for sufferers of depression. For non-sufferers, it may relieve some of the helplessness that comes from the knowledge that someone you are close to is hurting and there’s seemingly nothing you can do to help.
”Loss in all of its manifestations is the touchstone of depression.”
I had a depression of sorts during my High School years. I can definitely look back and see that now. It manifested itself in a lack of confidence, low self-esteem and a lack of conviction in choices that I made as well as bouts of self-hate and intense emotional pain. It was nowhere close to the debilitating level that Styron writes about throughout this memoir but the signs were there. My old man passed away in ’95 when I was just 7 and an Aunty was only just recently recounting the days thereafter. I had become withdrawn and quiet, she tells me, my usual hyperactive and jovial disposition was gone, the spark of a carefree youth had faded ever so slightly from my eyes. I think I subconsciously sought out replacement male role-models, my older brother, an uncle, a teacher, a sports coach, just to watch and observe. Luckily for me, these were all very positive but I don’t wish to place an inordinate amount of credit on these individuals who passively and unknowingly guided me off a path that very well could have led to serious depression. Ultimately, it’s my mother that has always offered unwavering love and support and who made me the man I am today.
There is a defensive wall that family and friends erect upon being given the news that their loved one has committed suicide. They argue, “He wouldn’t have done that, he seemed fine!”, “She was stronger than that.” While meaning well and wanting to protect that person’s image it is actually doing the opposite because there should be nothing to protect. The stigma of suicide and the negative connotations regarding the victim are an insinuation of weakness when, in reality, when the darkness reaches its greatest depths, there’s little that the individual can do without hospitalisation and dogged support from family and friends. In a way I feel that the arguments are more a defence for themselves. To accept that you knew something was wrong is to accept that maybe, just maybe, you could’ve done more to help.
At one stage, Styron concludes that the “efficacy of psychotherapy… at the advanced stage I was in has to be virtually nil.” My first reaction to this was, well if a professional is of no help, what good can an untrained friend or relative do. Alas, as I read further, William mentioned several times that the support of his wife and friends were an absolute necessity in his eventual recovery. Simply reading this, took a portion of the weight of helplessness off my own shoulders.
”Not for an instant could I let out of my sight the endlessly patient soul who had become nanny, mommy, comforter, priestess, and, most importantly, confidante – a counsellor of rock-like centrality to my existence and whose wisdom far exceeded that of Dr.Gold.”
Ultimately, hospitalisation was Styron’s healer, Seclusion and time, though he acknowledges that every case is different and what worked for him may not be the answer for another. He attributes the escalation of his illness, at least partially, to bad medical advice or poorly handled psychotherapy. Whilst not devaluing the results that others have achieved, he surmises that his experience was not great. His psychiatrist had him taking 3 times the recommended dosage of Halcion for sleep and when William first brought up the option of being hospitalised, the doctor warned him off it due to the stigma of mental health. That is, to a degree, a sign of the times, as this book was written in 1990 but, nevertheless, a concerning look at the potential for negligence in the field of psychotherapy.
Though possibly outdated in some of the medical terminology and diagnoses, I really valued this book for the insight that it offered. I highly recommend it to any who suffer from depression or know of someone who does. It doesn’t hold the ever-elusive answer to what is the cure for depression but it may help in your understanding of what sufferers are going through.
”A tough job, this; calling “Chin up!” from the safety of the shore to a drowning person is tantamount to insult, but it has been shown over and over again that if the encouragement is dogged enough – and the support equally committed and passionate – the endangered one can nearly always be saved.”
September 12, 2019
خواندن این کتاب مختصر را به هر کسی که افسردگی دارد یا کسانی اطرافش افسردگی داشتهاند یا دلش میخواهد بیشتر درباره افسردگی بداند پیشنهاد میکنم.
«ظلمت آشکار» روایت نویسندهایست از دوران افسردگی خود. ویلیام استایرن نویسندهای مشهور بود که در ۶۰ سالگی به بیماری افسردگی حاد مبتلا شد و تا پای خودکشی هم رفت. او در نهایت توانست بر این بیماری پیروز شود و بعدتر خاطرات خود از دوران افسردگیش را بنویسد. این کتاب کمحجم (ظلمت آشکار) باعث شهرت بیشتر استایرن شد. البته کتاب حدود سی سال پیش نوشته شده و قطعا در این سالها کتابهای بهتری هم نوشته شده اما یکی از دوستانم که مدتها با افسردگی درگیر بود و کتابهای زیادی دربارهش خوانده بود میگفت این کتاب هنوز کتابی است خواندنی و روشنگر.
«ظلمت آشکار» روایت نویسندهایست از دوران افسردگی خود. ویلیام استایرن نویسندهای مشهور بود که در ۶۰ سالگی به بیماری افسردگی حاد مبتلا شد و تا پای خودکشی هم رفت. او در نهایت توانست بر این بیماری پیروز شود و بعدتر خاطرات خود از دوران افسردگیش را بنویسد. این کتاب کمحجم (ظلمت آشکار) باعث شهرت بیشتر استایرن شد. البته کتاب حدود سی سال پیش نوشته شده و قطعا در این سالها کتابهای بهتری هم نوشته شده اما یکی از دوستانم که مدتها با افسردگی درگیر بود و کتابهای زیادی دربارهش خوانده بود میگفت این کتاب هنوز کتابی است خواندنی و روشنگر.
June 12, 2021
مذكرات الكاتب وليام ستايرون مع مرض الاكتئاب؛ الذي داهمه عند سن الستين، وبعد سنوات طويلة من التخفي؛ ليظهر على حقيقته، ويداهمه بضرواة في ظل ظروف مغايرة تماماً عن الاكتئاب؛ ولكن للاكتئاب سطوته التي تصعب مواجهته بروتين، أو جوائز أدبية، أو تعزيز للثقة بالنفس..
الكتابة شخصية، وصادقة، وإنسانية أدبية تعكس ثقافة الكاتب، مع كشفها لكثير من جوانب الاكتئاب التي كابدها مع مراحل علاجه التي فشلت تماماً مع ستايرون؛ حتى أدخلته المستشفى ليجد نفسه أخيراً _وعلى عكس الوصمة السائدة عن دخول المستشفيات النفسية_ قابلاً للتعافي في ظل جو مستقر، ومطهر للنفس، وملاذ قاهر للخيالات المهلكة وباعث للهدوء والطمأنينة.
معززاً ببساطة كتابته وتلقائيتها دور التشجيع المثابر عليه، والدعم المخلص، والحب الجم، والأمل الذي بقدرة عجيبة يهزم اليأس الغير واقعي المستحكم الذي يتميز به الاكتئاب؛ خصوصا هذا الاكتئاب الدوري الذي يتكرر مهدداً من عانوا منه مرة بعودته مرة ثانية وثالثة..
ولكن كما كل شىء في الحياة كلما تكرر على الإنسان؛ اكتسب خبرة في التعامل معه والسيطرة عليه، فإن الاكتئاب حتى ولو زادت سطوته فإن ذلك لا يمنع أبداً من قهره والتغلب عليه.
"ولو لم يكن للاكتئاب نهاية، لكن الانتحار قد أصبح فعلاً هو علاجه الأوحد.
لكن المرء لا يحتاج إلى أن يبدو مخادعاً أومشجعاً كي يؤكد حقيقة أن الاكتئاب ليس نهاية العالم."
"وهكذا خرجنا، و مرة أخرى أبصرنا النجوم."
الكتابة شخصية، وصادقة، وإنسانية أدبية تعكس ثقافة الكاتب، مع كشفها لكثير من جوانب الاكتئاب التي كابدها مع مراحل علاجه التي فشلت تماماً مع ستايرون؛ حتى أدخلته المستشفى ليجد نفسه أخيراً _وعلى عكس الوصمة السائدة عن دخول المستشفيات النفسية_ قابلاً للتعافي في ظل جو مستقر، ومطهر للنفس، وملاذ قاهر للخيالات المهلكة وباعث للهدوء والطمأنينة.
معززاً ببساطة كتابته وتلقائيتها دور التشجيع المثابر عليه، والدعم المخلص، والحب الجم، والأمل الذي بقدرة عجيبة يهزم اليأس الغير واقعي المستحكم الذي يتميز به الاكتئاب؛ خصوصا هذا الاكتئاب الدوري الذي يتكرر مهدداً من عانوا منه مرة بعودته مرة ثانية وثالثة..
ولكن كما كل شىء في الحياة كلما تكرر على الإنسان؛ اكتسب خبرة في التعامل معه والسيطرة عليه، فإن الاكتئاب حتى ولو زادت سطوته فإن ذلك لا يمنع أبداً من قهره والتغلب عليه.
"ولو لم يكن للاكتئاب نهاية، لكن الانتحار قد أصبح فعلاً هو علاجه الأوحد.
لكن المرء لا يحتاج إلى أن يبدو مخادعاً أومشجعاً كي يؤكد حقيقة أن الاكتئاب ليس نهاية العالم."
"وهكذا خرجنا، و مرة أخرى أبصرنا النجوم."
November 23, 2015
As someone who has suffered from an eating disorder and PTSD, I consider Darkness Visible an inspiring read. Only by sharing our stories of struggle and recovery can we destigmatize mental illness, ranging from bipolar disorder to schizophrenia to obsessive-compulsive disorder. William Styron's memoir about his battle with depression and suicidal ideation serves as one of the first of its kind, highlighting his courage to shed light on a topic often darkened by society.
With personal and raw prose, Styron details the onset of his depression and his fight to seek help. He infuses his account with bits of dark humor as well as allusions to others who have endured suicidal thoughts: Randall Jarrell, Primo Levi, and more. Styron's honesty gives his memoir a sheer truthfulness, as his attention to detail and self-analysis make his story feel even more painful and real. A quote that captures just a snapshot of his turmoil:
"In depression this faith in deliverance, in ultimate restoration, is absent. The pain is unrelenting, and what makes the condition intolerable is the foreknowledge that no remedy will come - not in a day, an hour, a month, or a minute. If there is mild relief, one knows that it is only temporary; more pain will follow. It is hopelessness even more than pain that crushes the soul."
My favorite part of this book centers on Styron's final message of hope. He concludes his memoir in an uplifting and candid way, acknowledging that yes, depression sucks, and yes, it gets better. These types of endings give me the most joy, because they acknowledge that though our struggles really are awful in this moment, we still have so much to experience and to grow from in our journeys. We still have a lot of love to give and to receive from our world and those who inhabit it. I will finish this review with a closing quote from Darkness Visible itself:
"But one need not sound the false or inspirational note to stress the truth that depression is not the soul's annihilation; men and women who have recovered from the disease - and they are countless - bear witness to what is probably its only saving grace: it is conquerable."
With personal and raw prose, Styron details the onset of his depression and his fight to seek help. He infuses his account with bits of dark humor as well as allusions to others who have endured suicidal thoughts: Randall Jarrell, Primo Levi, and more. Styron's honesty gives his memoir a sheer truthfulness, as his attention to detail and self-analysis make his story feel even more painful and real. A quote that captures just a snapshot of his turmoil:
"In depression this faith in deliverance, in ultimate restoration, is absent. The pain is unrelenting, and what makes the condition intolerable is the foreknowledge that no remedy will come - not in a day, an hour, a month, or a minute. If there is mild relief, one knows that it is only temporary; more pain will follow. It is hopelessness even more than pain that crushes the soul."
My favorite part of this book centers on Styron's final message of hope. He concludes his memoir in an uplifting and candid way, acknowledging that yes, depression sucks, and yes, it gets better. These types of endings give me the most joy, because they acknowledge that though our struggles really are awful in this moment, we still have so much to experience and to grow from in our journeys. We still have a lot of love to give and to receive from our world and those who inhabit it. I will finish this review with a closing quote from Darkness Visible itself:
"But one need not sound the false or inspirational note to stress the truth that depression is not the soul's annihilation; men and women who have recovered from the disease - and they are countless - bear witness to what is probably its only saving grace: it is conquerable."
June 21, 2024
عزیزان این کتاب داستان نیست که موضوع براتون اسپویل بشه، اما اگه باز هم حساس هستید برای این موضوع نخونید چون من ماجرای این کتاب رو به طور خلاصه نوشتم.ه
ویلیام استایرن در کتاب ظلمت آشکار از تجربهی خودش در مورد افسردگی صحبت کرده. از سفری که به پاریس داشته شروع میکنه که اونجا اولین تغییرات رو در خودش حس میکنه مثل بیحوصلگی، زود خسته شدن و کمحرفی. کمکم نشانهها بیشتر میشن و ویلیام استایرن راههایی برای درمان خودش امتحان میکنه اما در شبی افکار خودکشی به اوج میرسه و در بیمارستان بستری میشه و در نهایت بهبود پیدا میکنه. چیزی که جالبه شرح حال یک شخص دچار افسردگی از زبان خودش هست برای درک بهتر افرادی که اعتقاد دارن افسردگی دارن اما هیچ مطلب به درد بخوری راجع به اینکه خب حالا چطوری بهبود پیدا کردی؟ پیدا نمیشه! ضمن اینکه مثلاً میگه افکار خودکشی من بعد از قطع کردن فلان دارو ناپدید شد! خب این افکار دیگه دلیلش افسردگی نبوده یک عامل بیرونی بوده. خیلی دلم میخواست نظرات خودم رو هم بنویسم ولی به عنوان کسی که هیچ تخصصی در این موضوع نداره سکوت خیلی قشنگتره. آدمها برای شناختن ذهن و روان کار آسونی ندارن و فعلاً هم چیز دندونگیری نمیدونند.ه
ویلیام استایرن در کتاب ظلمت آشکار از تجربهی خودش در مورد افسردگی صحبت کرده. از سفری که به پاریس داشته شروع میکنه که اونجا اولین تغییرات رو در خودش حس میکنه مثل بیحوصلگی، زود خسته شدن و کمحرفی. کمکم نشانهها بیشتر میشن و ویلیام استایرن راههایی برای درمان خودش امتحان میکنه اما در شبی افکار خودکشی به اوج میرسه و در بیمارستان بستری میشه و در نهایت بهبود پیدا میکنه. چیزی که جالبه شرح حال یک شخص دچار افسردگی از زبان خودش هست برای درک بهتر افرادی که اعتقاد دارن افسردگی دارن اما هیچ مطلب به درد بخوری راجع به اینکه خب حالا چطوری بهبود پیدا کردی؟ پیدا نمیشه! ضمن اینکه مثلاً میگه افکار خودکشی من بعد از قطع کردن فلان دارو ناپدید شد! خب این افکار دیگه دلیلش افسردگی نبوده یک عامل بیرونی بوده. خیلی دلم میخواست نظرات خودم رو هم بنویسم ولی به عنوان کسی که هیچ تخصصی در این موضوع نداره سکوت خیلی قشنگتره. آدمها برای شناختن ذهن و روان کار آسونی ندارن و فعلاً هم چیز دندونگیری نمیدونند.ه
April 10, 2020
توفان مغزی یا غرق شدن در آب و خفگی
بی شک ذهنِ آدمی در برهه ای از زمان در آستانه فروپاشی قرار می گیرد.
هجوم افکارِ مختلف که همچو رگباری روح و روان آدمی را در معرض فرسایش قرار می دهند.
افکارِ ما در این برهه ی زمانی مثل اره تیز و برنده ای ع��ل می کنند که ما باید در جستجوی راهی ( راه هایی) برای کُند کردن دندانه های ارّه ذهنی مان باشیم. در این مسیر جستجو متوجه می شویم که هر بحرانِ ذهنی و روحی دری است برای وارد شدن به این هزارتویِ افسردگی ولی در نهایت سه راه خروج وجود دارد : ۱-به سراغ مرگِ خود خواسته ( واژه ای لطیف تر و قابل هضم تر نسبت به خودکشی. مگر هر انسانی چندبار حق تجربه کردن زندگی و یا مرگ را دارد؟؟؟ بیش از یکبار؟؟؟ پس به او حق بدهیم خودش درباره ملالِ زندگی اش تصمیم بگیرد.)
۲-رهایش از زندانِ هزارتوی افسردگی
۳- بازگشت مجدد به آغوش این زندان و بسته شدن دوباره روزنه هایش توسط زندانبان ( بحران های روحی و جسمی)
افسردگی بيماري نیست بلکه واکنشی درونی است نسبت به شرایط حاکم.طبق قانون سوم نیوتون: هر کُنشی، واکنشی دارد :)
جایی خوندم که شوپنهاور معتقد بود" یگ فرد به خودی خود افسرده نمیشود بلکه اطرافیانش نقش به سزایی در شکل گیری این حالت درونی دارند. پس بهتره هر فردی قبل از اینکه به خودش برچسب افسرده بودن، بزنه اول با دیدی بازتر و بدون جهت گیری به اطرافیانش نگاه کنه. دوم، قدم در جاده فراموش شده گذشته بذاره و به بحران های فکری، روحی، جسمی که قبلا پشت سر گذاشته توجه بکنه و در نهایت اینجاست که متوجه میشیم افسردگی یک علت واحد نداره بلکه پیچیده تر از این حرفهاست!
افسردگی از همان بدو تولد در گوشه ای نشسته و منتظر است تا اینکه زمان موعد فرا برسد.
زمان موعد برای چه چیزی؟
زمان موعود برای فرسایش دوره ای روح و روانمان
برای اینکه دردی وصف ناپذیر را تجربه کنیم
ساختنِ دارویی که این درد را تسکین دهد، فراتر از توانایی ما داروسازان است.
وقتی که کاسهِ صبر آدمی از این همه ملال ِ زندگی ترک برمیدارد؛ افسردگی دَوان دَوان به سمت ما می آید و از ما با آغوش ِباز و گرمش استقبال می کند.
و اینگونه فصل جدیدی از زندگیمان به دستِ افسردگی نوشته می شود که نتیجه اش خودآزاریِ بی پایان ذهنی است.
تنها راه درمان ِ افسردگی از ��یدگاه فردی که خودش وارد چنین توفانی شده و به سلامت(البته که اسکارهای روحی فراوانی برجای گذاشته) بازگشته؛ انزوا و زمان است.
هرچند که گذر زمان کمک نمیکنه که آدمی چیزی رو فراموش بکنه بلکه کمک میکنه عادت بکنه! عادت به پذیرش اینکه ماهیت زندگی ملالی دردناک و البته شیرینه!
چیزی که مانع از تابو کردن افسردگی میشه و اتفاقا درد ناشی از افسردگی رو برایِ فرد درگیر هم کاهش میده، آگاهی عمومیه. گفتن جمله"بابا اینکه چیزی نیست من بدتر از ایناااارو پشت سر گذاشتم و افسردگی هم نگرفتم و دست از این افکار سوسول بردار و فلان و بیسار، حقیقتاً بدترین نوع فحش محترمانه ممکن، به انسان درگیر فروپاشی ذهنیه"
آگاهی عمومی دادن باعث می شود دَر زندانِ ذهنی و فرهنگی مان به سمت نور و امید باز شود و به افکارمان اجازه دیده شدن و مورد نقد قرار گرفته شدن داده شود،بدون هیچ گونه واهمه ای.
نتیجه ی جالبی که حاصل میشه اینه که متوجه میشیم هر انسانی در برهه ای از زندگیش درجاتی از افسردگی رو تجربه کرده و چه خوب میشه اگه چنین گروه هایی برای تبادل تجربیات و خاطرات افسردگی شکل بگیره.
بدون شک از مرگ های خود خواسته زیادی میشه جلوگیری کرد!
فکر میکنم تقریبا سال گذشته بود که ریویو "سهیل" رو درباره این کتاب خوندم و مشتاق شدم در اولین فرصت ممکن بخرمش. با اینکه درگیر امتحان و لحظات به غایت مزخرف دانشگاهم هستم، خواندن این کتاب آرامش درونی از دست رفته ام رو بهم برگردوند و خب خیلی دوست داشتم الان که کتاب رو خوندم باز هم ریویو سهیل رو می خوندم ولی متاسفانه نیافتمش :|
سپاس بی کران از ویلیام استایرن که منو به اقیانوس بی کران زندگی برگردوند :)
بی شک ذهنِ آدمی در برهه ای از زمان در آستانه فروپاشی قرار می گیرد.
هجوم افکارِ مختلف که همچو رگباری روح و روان آدمی را در معرض فرسایش قرار می دهند.
افکارِ ما در این برهه ی زمانی مثل اره تیز و برنده ای ع��ل می کنند که ما باید در جستجوی راهی ( راه هایی) برای کُند کردن دندانه های ارّه ذهنی مان باشیم. در این مسیر جستجو متوجه می شویم که هر بحرانِ ذهنی و روحی دری است برای وارد شدن به این هزارتویِ افسردگی ولی در نهایت سه راه خروج وجود دارد : ۱-به سراغ مرگِ خود خواسته ( واژه ای لطیف تر و قابل هضم تر نسبت به خودکشی. مگر هر انسانی چندبار حق تجربه کردن زندگی و یا مرگ را دارد؟؟؟ بیش از یکبار؟؟؟ پس به او حق بدهیم خودش درباره ملالِ زندگی اش تصمیم بگیرد.)
۲-رهایش از زندانِ هزارتوی افسردگی
۳- بازگشت مجدد به آغوش این زندان و بسته شدن دوباره روزنه هایش توسط زندانبان ( بحران های روحی و جسمی)
افسردگی بيماري نیست بلکه واکنشی درونی است نسبت به شرایط حاکم.طبق قانون سوم نیوتون: هر کُنشی، واکنشی دارد :)
جایی خوندم که شوپنهاور معتقد بود" یگ فرد به خودی خود افسرده نمیشود بلکه اطرافیانش نقش به سزایی در شکل گیری این حالت درونی دارند. پس بهتره هر فردی قبل از اینکه به خودش برچسب افسرده بودن، بزنه اول با دیدی بازتر و بدون جهت گیری به اطرافیانش نگاه کنه. دوم، قدم در جاده فراموش شده گذشته بذاره و به بحران های فکری، روحی، جسمی که قبلا پشت سر گذاشته توجه بکنه و در نهایت اینجاست که متوجه میشیم افسردگی یک علت واحد نداره بلکه پیچیده تر از این حرفهاست!
افسردگی از همان بدو تولد در گوشه ای نشسته و منتظر است تا اینکه زمان موعد فرا برسد.
زمان موعد برای چه چیزی؟
زمان موعود برای فرسایش دوره ای روح و روانمان
برای اینکه دردی وصف ناپذیر را تجربه کنیم
ساختنِ دارویی که این درد را تسکین دهد، فراتر از توانایی ما داروسازان است.
وقتی که کاسهِ صبر آدمی از این همه ملال ِ زندگی ترک برمیدارد؛ افسردگی دَوان دَوان به سمت ما می آید و از ما با آغوش ِباز و گرمش استقبال می کند.
و اینگونه فصل جدیدی از زندگیمان به دستِ افسردگی نوشته می شود که نتیجه اش خودآزاریِ بی پایان ذهنی است.
تنها راه درمان ِ افسردگی از ��یدگاه فردی که خودش وارد چنین توفانی شده و به سلامت(البته که اسکارهای روحی فراوانی برجای گذاشته) بازگشته؛ انزوا و زمان است.
هرچند که گذر زمان کمک نمیکنه که آدمی چیزی رو فراموش بکنه بلکه کمک میکنه عادت بکنه! عادت به پذیرش اینکه ماهیت زندگی ملالی دردناک و البته شیرینه!
چیزی که مانع از تابو کردن افسردگی میشه و اتفاقا درد ناشی از افسردگی رو برایِ فرد درگیر هم کاهش میده، آگاهی عمومیه. گفتن جمله"بابا اینکه چیزی نیست من بدتر از ایناااارو پشت سر گذاشتم و افسردگی هم نگرفتم و دست از این افکار سوسول بردار و فلان و بیسار، حقیقتاً بدترین نوع فحش محترمانه ممکن، به انسان درگیر فروپاشی ذهنیه"
آگاهی عمومی دادن باعث می شود دَر زندانِ ذهنی و فرهنگی مان به سمت نور و امید باز شود و به افکارمان اجازه دیده شدن و مورد نقد قرار گرفته شدن داده شود،بدون هیچ گونه واهمه ای.
نتیجه ی جالبی که حاصل میشه اینه که متوجه میشیم هر انسانی در برهه ای از زندگیش درجاتی از افسردگی رو تجربه کرده و چه خوب میشه اگه چنین گروه هایی برای تبادل تجربیات و خاطرات افسردگی شکل بگیره.
بدون شک از مرگ های خود خواسته زیادی میشه جلوگیری کرد!
فکر میکنم تقریبا سال گذشته بود که ریویو "سهیل" رو درباره این کتاب خوندم و مشتاق شدم در اولین فرصت ممکن بخرمش. با اینکه درگیر امتحان و لحظات به غایت مزخرف دانشگاهم هستم، خواندن این کتاب آرامش درونی از دست رفته ام رو بهم برگردوند و خب خیلی دوست داشتم الان که کتاب رو خوندم باز هم ریویو سهیل رو می خوندم ولی متاسفانه نیافتمش :|
سپاس بی کران از ویلیام استایرن که منو به اقیانوس بی کران زندگی برگردوند :)
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