Kaufman also studied mental illness among this sample – from the Reuters article:
“What I found was pretty consistent with the death finding actually, female poets were much more likely to suffer from mental illness (e.g., be hospitalized, commit suicide, attempt suicide) than any other kind of writer and more likely than other eminent women,” he said.
“I’ve dubbed this the ‘Sylvia Plath Effect.”‘
So, Ricky – cut back on the haiku, ok?
It strikes me that depression and self-destructive behavior lead to poetry, not the other way around. Almost all the poetry I’ve ever written was bad love poetry written after breaking up a relationship. I can only remember one poem I wrote while I was happy and in love (and that one was even worse ;>). And that is why the world of poetry is full of angsty things like The Raven and In Memoriam. (Hopefully gypsysoul can enlighten me about some happy poetry?)
I thought it was already quite well known that many writers/poets suffer from Cyclothymic Personality Disorder–a condition that worsens with age, often resulting in suicide. Hemingway, for example.
My students are many times more interested in writers’ lives than they are what they’ve written, for the very reasons stated in the study. Invariably, they wonder why so many writers, poets in particular, seem to suffer from depression. I blush, Drog, to admit that Cylcothymic Personality Disorder is a new PHRASE for me, but glancing at the link, it would certainly seem that many poets fit the description. (I KNOW a fair share of people in general who fit this description, matter of fact… maybe it’s the company I keep :-).)
As to the chicken or the egg part, Sylvia, I agree both with you AND the study. Even those who write wickedly witty poetry (Alexander Pope and Lord Byron immediately come to mind from the past)
mask pain and grief behind a veil of wit. Shelley’s “To a Skylark” is a HAPPY poem about a HAPPY bird, yet he contemplates in the poem, “Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.”
There are FUNNY POEMS — those limericks of Edward Lear and Ogden Nash… the biting stuff of Dorothy Parker… the gentle sweetness of e.e. cummings…and many, many modern writers of satire, but their happiness as POETS may be questioned.
The happiest poet I can think of on the spot is Elizabeth Barrett Browning, a woman burdened as a semi-invalid, but whose Sonnets from the Portuguese speak volumes of her deep love for husband Robert.
As to the chicken or the egg part, Sylvia, I agree both with you AND the study…
Mentioning my name here must have been a slip, as I haven’t commented on this article before. But I will now.
Like so many issues of this kind, it is not a “chicken or the egg” situation at all, but rather one in which a particular characteristic leads to two separate things: in this case, a deeper perception of reality than is possessed by the average person. Poets (and other serious writers) have such a perception; it’s what gives them the ability to create meaningful literature. Yet such a perception often leads to depression — as suggested by the “humorous” but often-accurate poster that reads, “If you’re not depressed, you just don’t understand the situation.”
It’s now fashionable to view all depression as “illness” and to claim that it’s biologically based. This may be true in some cases, and it is also true
that depression often leads to physical illness (for example, because of its well-proven effects on the immune system) or even to suicide. But a great deal of depression is merely the result of assessing one’s situation — or the entire human condition — realistically. Controlled studies have shown that people who are depressed judge reality better than those who are not, even in the trivial situation experimentally measured. So it’s no wonder that people whose writing is considered “true” enough to have literary value tend to be depressed. They simply have fewer illusions about reality.
This isn’t to say that they all write depressing poetry! They may choose to focus on happier aspects of life. And it certainly isn’t to say that they all feel suicidal, because many people have the ability to cope well with depression, whether or not they’re personally happy part of the time. (The extent to which they become physically ill rather than “mentally ill” is probably greater than has been recognized so far, though research on the physical mechanisms of psychogenic illness is changing that — poets and other artists have also traditionally tended to be “sickly” and in the past, many had tuberculosis.)
As for Elizabeth Barrett Browning, in the light of today’s knowledge it can be seen that her illness during the first part of her life, from which she never completely recovered, was almost certainly caused by the physical effects of very justifiable frustration and consequent depression over her home situation; after she left home to marry Robert Browning, she was indeed happy. But if she hadn’t possessed extraordinary sensitivity, she would have been neither frustrated nor capable of writing great poetry.
I’d be interested in reading up on those controlled studies you mentioned, if you can point me in the right direction. I had always had my own theory that while depressed artists are indeed more aware, both externally and internally, the real reason that they are depressed is that they lack the capability to cope with their insights. There are many brilliant people who understand the cold, disturbing realities of the world equally well, but choose to either ignore it, feeling that they cannot make a difference and should at least enjoy their own life, or choose to do their part to improve things, sometimes even knowing full well how hopeless their efforts are in the grand scheme of things. As to what causes this lack of coping skills, I don’t know–I imagine that it is based on some combination of genes, brain chemistry and life experiences.
I was finishing up a day at one school before heading out for night classes when I wrote that.
A psychologist explained to me long ago that there are types and degrees of depressions– the two major ones being situational (you lose a job or a significant other) and clinical, which has its basis in brain chemistry, etc., and is the more serious of the two.
I don’t see the problem with the chicken or the egg issue. You explained it differently, and I accept that, but it’s still debatable to me whether the writing is mostly a result of depression (caused by heightened awareness of reality), or depression is the result of the writing (that very focusing in on reality you mentioned). Sometimes the writing act itself leads to epiphanies — and those can be devastating. That’s what I meant by implying, who knows what event takes place first, with every poet and writer? But I agree that in many cases, depression is a factor in producing remarkably good writing.
And yes, I certainly know all about Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s repressive home situation due to her domineering father. I know that stress and frustration can lead to physical illness. Her most marked depression followed the drowning of her brother… and her frail physical health, even as a child, from what I understand, declined even more.
Sweetwind asked if I had anything to add about “happy” poems, and EBB came to mind. In my opinion, sensitivity is not necessarily conjoined with depression or depressing poems. As you pointed out, our sensitive poets often choose, not particularly HAPPY OR SAD poems, but simply poems that, as Frost said, “make you remember what you didn’t know you knew.”
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I’m running out of time — better write my Great American Novel before the law of averages catches up with me…
Unfortunately, going from the bouts of mania to the lows of depression just seems to amplify the procrastination. If i wasn’t so compulsive about writing I probably wouldn’t type a word.
… I’ll wager, came from seeing Sylvia Plath’s name in the story, so the name was fresh in your mind when you wrote your comment.
I thought of that EXACTLY before I read your last comment. Yes, Sylvia Plath and I commune from time to time :-).
Actually, I’m afraid it may be an age thing…perhaps it was just overload on the brain circuit due to a hectic schedule. I think someone should do a controlled study on how often people make such mental swaps, don’t you?
The only reference I can find at the moment is in Lesley Hazelton’s fine book The Right to Feel Bad: Coming to Terms with Normal Depression (though I’m sure I’ve seen other mentions of such findings in the past). She cites Alloy & Abramson, “Judgment of Contingency in Depressed and Non-depressed Students: Sadder but Wiser?” Journal of Experimental Psychology, General Vol. 108 (1979.) This was an experiment with colored lights; the subjects were asked to estimate how much control they had over what lights came on when they pushed buttons. Both in cases where they actually had a lot of control, and in cases where they had little, the non-depressed subjects’ estimates exaggerated the extent of their control or lack of it, whereas the depressed subjects were quite accurate in their estimation. This was true even when there was no relation at all between which button they pressed and what light came on, whether or not they could win or lose money by “success” in the game. The experiment could not answer the question of “whether depression leads people to be realistic or whether realistic people are more vulnerable to depression,” but Hazelton interprets it as I do: “If people have the illusion of control when they are not depressed, then depression must be seen as the loss of that illusion, as well as all manner of other illusions by which we make it easier for ourselves in a world little given to individual control.”
She goes on in a section titled “The Problem of Awareness”: “To be too aware can make life very difficult. When we are depressed, we see too much …
The defenses we usually maintain for filtering out these perceptions are down … Most psychotherapies have assumed that awareness can only be good, and that the more a person can see the world without illusion, the more rational and sane a person will be. But the loss of illusion can be seen in quite a different way …”
However, she continues, “many philosophers have seen depression as ultimately right.” And I think this is the case with many poets and writers, too — and in fact many scientists — they would rather have realistic perceptions of life than illusions. It reminds me of the young protagonist of one of my novels who, in adolescence, declared firmly that he “preferred truth to comfort,” and who at various points in the story was seriously depressed, with good reason, while those around him, less gifted than he, were not.
Of course, Hazleton is not talking about the serious form of depression that is a true mental illness. Nor does she mean to imply that all depressed people are realistic; it is known that some have unjustifiably pessimistic views of themselves, and that some are depressed as a result of physical factors. She is merely challenging the all-too-common notion that these are its only causes and that depression in itself is an abnormality that should be “cured.”
I agree with you that there are many brilliant people who understand reality well and are able to cope, but I think the main method of coping is to repress a good deal of awareness and focus on some particular activity — which can be either destructive (drinking, for example) or constructive; and if it’s a constructive activity, this repressed emotion is a powerful spur to achievement. Poets and artists are trying to express their feelings about life in their art, which is why their depression is necessarily at the surface. However, I suspect most brilliant people are depressed part of the time (it’s known to have been true of many leaders, such as Lincoln and Churchill) and that the rest would be if they stopped to think about it. This is one reason why I feel that the current media focus on “diagnosing” depression in everybody who has had “symptoms” for more than two weeks — which I believe to be driven partly by the pharmaceutical companies and partly by people who want to convince themselves that continuous happiness is the natural state of everybody who’s not sick — is damaging both to individuals and to society.
Sylvia (and I mean Sylvia this time :-), this information is very informative and helpful. I agree with you about those too quick to diagnose the normal ebb and flow of contentment as a serious depression (i.e., mental illness) that can be “cured” with medication.
Your findings of depression research make sense, also, whether they apply to artistic types or the population in general.
I do have a problem with those who feel that any kind of medical treatment, whether it’s drugs, therapy, or both, for severe depression is somehow shameful or a sign of weakness.
I’ve never been diagnosed with clinical depression, but I know those who have been. These people don’t participate in therapy or medication because they expect to be HAPPY all the time. They want to climb out of the suffocating quicksand and be able to feel the normal range of emotions which the rest of us experience.
I certainly don’t think medical treatment for severe depression, or for LONG TERM moderate depression without any situational cause, is a sign of weakness or in any way shameful. Nor is it “weak” even for people with less serious depression
to seek treatment; belief in the Medical Establishment’s claims is natural in our culture. What I object to is the promotion of treatment to those who don’t need it (I have the same objection to promotion of many other types of medication to people who don’t need it). There’s a frequently-run TV ad promoting the idea that sadness is caused by biochemistry that drives me up the wall. This is true in SOME cases, but by no means of the majority of people who watch TV when they’ve been feeling low for a few weeks. Furthermore, the effect on watchers who are NOT depressed does more damage than can be justified by any benefit to the few who are seriously depressed without knowing they can be helped.
We approve ads like this, which condition people to believe that drugs are the solution to life’s problems, and then we wonder why kids use illegal drugs that make them feel high!
Drugs for depression are widely overused and have more serious side effects than is generally admitted, especially in young people — as has been in the news recently. There are people who need them and function better with them, in whom the risk of upsetting the body’s natural balance is warranted. These people know they have a problem more severe than the kind of depression normally felt from time to time, which doesn’t seriously affect ability to function. But the public is being led to think that there’s no such thing as normal depression. It’s being said that depression lasting more than 2 weeks is not shameful, but sick, when actually it is neither. There are screening campaigns and lists of “symptoms” in the media with the claim that if you’ve had them longer than 2 weeks you should see a doctor. It’s a rare person who hasn’t at some time had these feelings over a longer period; I certainly have. I don’t think it helps people to be told that their natural feelings are “sick” feelings.
It’s been a while since I read The Bell Jar, (almost all I can remember is the scene where she loses her virginity with the simultaneous interpreter– thank goodness I was was already sexually active myself when I read that, or I might be a virgin yet!!!) but IIRC it’s the sort of book where you want to be in a robustly good mood when you read it, cuz if you’re feeling iffy, it’ll really bring you down. So perhaps another selection bias could be: poets read more poetry (and prose works by poets), of which a large percentage is grim stuff that will reinforce any blues being suffered by the reader.
One doesn’t read Sivvy unless one is LOOKING FOR a touch of that mild depression that haunts us, uninvited, from time to time….
I don’t know… maybe it’s a female thing where SP is concerned. I don’t know of many males who would turn to her after a girlfriend cast them aside, whereas I can remember reading both Sylvia and Edna St. Vincent Millay’s gut-ripping loss-of-love sonnets in my passionate youth, after even the slightest rejection by some clueless young man.
Sivvy and Edna felt my pain better than Bill Clinton ever did :-).