BOOK REVIEWS 825 a single author, thus failing to appreciate Medea as a far more complex and meaningful representation of a woman, wife, and mother. GEORGE HAGMAN (STAMFORD, CT) MENDED BY THE MUSE: CREATIVE TRANSFORMATIONS OF TRAUMA. By Sophia Richman. New York/Sussex, England: Routledge/Taylor and Francis, 2014. 256 pp. Mended by the Muse: Creative Transformations of Trauma is a sustained, impassioned argument for the psychotherapeutic potential of the creative arts. In particular, author Sophia Richman (a member of the faculty at New York University Postdoctoral Program in Psychotherapy and Psychoanalysis) argues that art plays an important role in the process of self-repair following trauma. Building on Winnicott s idea of transitional space, Richman describes how the artist plays with aspects of reality and fantasy, and in the process comes to articulate and give aesthetic form to aspects of self-experience that have been damaged and hidden perhaps even from the self. The book begins with an account of Richman s family s experiences of trauma during and after the Holocaust. Posing as a daughter and her widowed Catholic mother, Richman and her mother lived out the Second World War in plain sight, all the time fearing discovery of their Jewish identities. Her father, having escaped from a concentration camp early in the war, hid in their attic, where he eventually began to compose a memoir of his incarceration and escape. Richman describes how the process of writing down her father s words (and then later her own) provided a sense of control and mastery over the humiliating experiences (p. 15) they had endured. In addition, she notes that in her father s case, sharing his writing with her mother helped the two of them to reconnect. However, her own failure to connect with her father endured during the years of hiding and continued throughout their later years. Clearly, the story of family trauma and recovery through art is fundamental to Richman s thesis. Richman moves from her personal story to an exploration of the psychoanalytic literature on creativity. This chapter is an excellent re-
826 BOOK REVIEWS view, and I recommend it to anyone interested in the diverse ways in which analysts think about the creative arts and the psychology of artists. Next is a chapter on dissociation. An adherent to recent models of dissociation such as Bromberg s, Richman argues that the creative arts provide an avenue toward bringing together radically dissociated aspects of memory, riven and sequestered by trauma. She states: When individuals are engaged in the creative process, whether they are regressing, progressing, or moving from one self-state to another, they enter a place where they have more access to internal problematical material and have an opportunity for working through the material towards self-continuity. [p. 73] Richman believes in the therapeutic power of art. It has long been known that artistic endeavors have the power to heal the artist (p. 62), she observes. The power of creativity to overcome trauma and support self-healing is examined by Richman from many angles: in one chapter, she discuses genocide; in another, mortality and the healing function of memoir. She uses examples from the lives of artists and psychoanalysts to illustrate her thesis. A close examination of Richman s argument reveals that there are two sides to her thesis, with the first and most important one being that the creative arts can heal the psychological damage of trauma. Second, the sharing of one s artistic products can lead to a healing reengagement with other people. These are actually two very different claims, and Richman is far more persuasive regarding the latter dimension of her thesis than the former. Let me take each in turn. Although it feels good to imagine that art-making has some kind of healing role, it is much harder to find evidence of this. Clearly, when it goes well, art-making can be joyous and satisfying, one of the most meaningful of human experiences. On the other hand, when it does not go well and such occasions are a common complaint of all artists it can be a debilitating torment. Taking the former, more positive perspective, Richman offers several examples from art history. While it is true that artists often seem to be trying to articulate and make sense of trauma (often successfully), this does not mean that psychological repair follows. Unfortunately, in her biographical examples, Richman fails to show con-
BOOK REVIEWS 827 vincing examples of such healing. For instance, her two examples of artists healed by their art, Frida Kahlo and Francis Bacon, are actually very poor poster children for mental health and well-being. Both were alcoholic and depressive despite artistic success over many years, and neither showed any evidence of psychological healing. In fact, there is clear evidence of the reverse: of continued deterioration and self-destructiveness, even as they achieved some of their finest artistic work. In considering Richman s thesis, I thought about many of the great artists whom I have admired and with whose biographies I am familiar. Despite high levels of accomplishment (even the fulfillment of genius), most of these artists did not show any improvement in their psychological health. An obvious example is Van Gogh, but there are innumerable others. If art healed, then Hemingway would not have been a suicide; and Faulkner, Fitzgerald, Cheever, and Carver would not have suffered from chronic alcoholism and depression. I do not subscribe to the idea that mental illness is somehow essential to creativity, but the healing power of art is a separate issue. I am sure the reader can come up with numerous examples of productive and aesthetically successful artists who failed to evidence psychological healing; in fact, the opposite has too often been true. I am not saying that art-making may not be useful in recovering from trauma. In fact, this is where Richman succeeds in providing convincing evidence regarding the second part of her thesis. Art can support healing in the context of a relationship with another with whom one shares the process and its results. In her report of analytic work with a patient named Marnie, Richman describes the way that the therapeutic process was enhanced when the patient found out that Richman shared her interest in writing. Deeply immersed in writing a memoir, Marnie began to bring her work into sessions. Richman writes: The experiential space we shared became alive with energy.... Marnie s writing was something we could look at together and discuss.... We co-created a narrative (p. 99). In other words, it was not so much the art-making as the art-sharing in the context of a positive and engaged therapeutic relationship that was ameliorative. In fact, Richman argues that artistic expression in conjunction with psychoanalysis... makes for a most effective combination (p. 96).
828 BOOK REVIEWS Richman s success in arguing for the relational nature of creativity and art appreciation underscores a problem in the book. Her discussion of the creative process seems to rely on a model that emphasizes the solitary, private nature of creativity. Many times, she discusses the mysterious, solitary work of the individual artist. Given the fact that art throughout human history has been communal and interpersonal, the relatively recent myth of the solitary artist in his or her studio distorts the true nature and role of art in human existence. People can use art to heal. But this is not inherent to art itself; rather, it comes about through the way that the artist makes use of it. Most important, it is when artists engage with others family, friends, mentors, etc. in a healing process in which art plays a role that healing and growth become possible. As Richman s treatment of Marnie illustrates, art and art-making can be used to provide added meaning and emotional resonance to the dialogue between patient and analyst. Whether we discuss a creative project in which the patient is involved, or a movie, television program, or play, the meanings of these art forms to the patient perhaps involving a character whom the patient hates or loves, a situation evoking childhood memories, or the dramatic depiction of a trauma or loss with which the patient resonates can enrich the clinical dialogue. As with the treatment of Marnie, when patient and analyst share enthusiasm for art, this mutual idealization may increase the potential for clinical benefit to both members of the dyad. Artwork can vitalize and provide cohesion to self experience. In addition, the shared discussion of art in sessions can create diverse opportunities for exploration and elaboration of fantasy. Over time, the externalization of the patient s creative life and fantasy life through artwork can be a rich means with which to continue the analytic dialogue. It can also track the evolving nature of the patient s psychological life and sense of self. Richman describes this process when she tells about writing her memoir. Having terminated her treatment, she continued to elaborate memory and experience through her writing once again, with the enthusiastic encouragement and interest of her analyst, who remains in contact and urges her on in her writing.
BOOK REVIEWS 829 Like anything else, the effective integration of art into the treatment must be based on an in-depth and sensitive attunement to the patient s experience, to his or her vulnerabilities and needs. Artists can be highly vulnerable at the best of times, and the importance of the analyst s response to an artist patient should not be minimized. But management of the patient s vulnerability is our stock in trade, after all. In this regard, Richman s Mended by the Muse: Creative Transformations of Trauma is a testimony and guide to the importance of art in the clinical exchange, as she demonstrates how we can leverage its special power to heighten meaning, communication, and positive outcomes. GEORGE HAGMAN (STAMFORD, CT)