A debut memoirist provides an insider’s account of an American psychiatric hospital.
Williams compares his story to Ken Kesey’s 1962 novel One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, lamenting that “not much has changed” in the treatment of inmates since that novel was published. The bulk of the book centers on 28 days in 2018 that Williams spent in a Massachusetts psychiatric hospital after his hypomania had led to what he calls a “serious psychotic break.” His wife insisted he see his psychiatrist, who was known as one of the top practitioners in the country; the visit ultimately led to Williams’ institutionalization. Despite the hospital’s prestigious reputation, the author describes experiences of emotional and psychological torment there in horrifying detail. For example, he asserts that the staff embraced practices that triggered his intense claustrophobia by constricting him “in a straitjacket-like restraint,” and that they alluded to using electroconvulsive shock therapy as punishment after he “ticked off” a doctor. Blended within these harrowing recollections are autobiographical vignettes from the author’s eclectic life experiences: Williams notes that he’s the grandson of a legendary 1930s-era aviator who set records for cross-continental flights alongside Howard Hughes, and he recounts his own daring pursuits as a climber, including surviving a fall from Mt. Fuji. He also tells of his very different careers as both an acclaimed artist and a founding partner of a financial firm. Williams’ stream-of-consciousness prose style makes for an engaging, if disjointed, read that often jumps from social commentary to pop-culture references to anecdotes that toe the line between humor and vulgarity. Although this approach may not resonate with every reader, the work as a whole does effectively provide a damning indictment of dehumanizing policies and practices in mental health treatment facilities.
A fine memoir and a searing behind-the-scenes exposé.