The Quest for the True Self

In today’s review, I wish to discuss a novel and an autobiography, Distance (Penguin, London, 1998), a novel by Colin Thubron and Breaking the Heart Open: The Shaping of a Psychologist (Gill Books, Dublin, 2023) by Dr Tony Bates.  At first glance, it would seem that neither of these books has much in common with the other, but there the casual peruser of my bookshelves would be greatly mistaken.  Essentially, they are both works of literature that strive to answer the ancient and primordial question of personal identity, colloquially and succinctly put: Who am I?  They are both books in search of the elusive self, and attempt to put some shape on the story of that often-fraught search. 

The story of the novel revolves around a young astronomer, Edward Sanders, who has lost the last two years of his memory and now must begin to piece together his past. Significantly, his post-graduate study is in the area of black holes, and his interview with the doctor at the clinic foregrounds the looming black hole in his own memory. He remembers a few things like where his house is, but simply cannot remember his recent relationship with the artist Naomi, with whom he has been living, apparently, for quite some time: “I look at her with (I know) appalled numbness.  I can’t help myself.  She reminds me of nobody at all.  She might have wandered in to ask the way.  Her voice stirs nothing.  She looks quite plain, apart from her dark eyes.” (p. 47)

There are several kinds of distances in this book, the physical one in the astronomy field: “beyond our own galaxy lie an estimated hundred thousand million more galaxies, some measuring hundreds of thousands of light years across….” (p. 39), the frightening immensity of the blackhole of amnesia that lies at the heart of his lost identity and the emotional distance that exists between Edward, his father, his mother (whom he has forgotten has died) and especially his recent lover Naomi. As Edward recovers his memory, he must confront past griefs and the destructive nature of some past relationships.

The novel is fast-paced, often with short, succinct sentences that bring us on an investigative hunt for the reason behind his traumatic amnesia.  We want to find out what happened to Edward, what Naomi had to do with it, and especially what role the mysterious woman Jacqueline (whose existence and name he only remembers after some time) played in his traumatic amnesia, and so the novel reads like a “whodunit” that keeps the reader guessing until the end. Thubron is a noted and award-winning travel writer as well as a novelist and displays masterful writing in both genres.  Here, he displays an ability to write a gripping story that is both suspenseful and emotionally deep.

What enthrals this reviewer is the tortured nature of Edward’s deeply existential search for identity, his search not alone for the two lost years, but for the very meaning of life itself – a subject that interests most questioning and sensitive human beings.  In short, this book can be said to be a quest for self, for a holistic self. Edward had always wanted his father to drop his mask and reveal himself: “All my life I’ve wanted him to unwrap himself, and now that he is doing so I feel apprehensive” (p. 33) Furthermore, his father tells the amnesiac that he “stopped being himself” (p. 49) for the past year and Eddie feels that he has “broken into fragments” and that he exists “only as other people’s versions.” (p. 49) When Naomi tells him later that he is not himself and should rest, he retorts, “I don’t believe in a self.  Whatever I am now is me!”  This is all deep existential stuff of mental breakdown and trauma with deep philosophical questions thrown in.  Does the self really exist at all is one such question.  Then there is a theological interlude where Edward encounters an old university companion, Harry, who has become an Anglican monk.  Harry tells him he has found his real self now that he has very few possessions to cling to.  Edward finds this a rather incredible attitude and considers that reality is exactly the opposite for him; circumstances have preserved his possessions, but have removed his very self. (p. 69) Then there is his later contention that he found that the mysterious Jacqueline had many selves, which kept superimposing themselves as time passed. Or again, Thubron introduces this ethical question: “I wonder: how culpable is someone who’s forgotten his crime? Could he be sentenced and condemned without memory? What then is being punished?” (p. 87) Or again, ponder the statement, “The mystery isn’t stars, it’s people.” (p. 95) Or later on, Black Holes like God are unknowable, indeed ineffable (see p. 125). The mystery of it all confounds Eddie and indeed us, the readers: “Basically, we’re just trapped in our own heads.  The Inuit – the Eskimos – thought the stars were seal hunters who’d lost their way home.” (p. 127)

In short, this is a thought-provoking novel that explores the mystery of the universe through solid research in astronomy, the existential crisis of a traumatic event, the physical as well as mental ravages of breakdown and grief and the often strangeness and pain of relationships.  We are as mysterious as the universe in which we live, and Colin Thubron captures both with delicate and intense prose.  This well-paced novel never falters and keeps our attention right to the end, a wonderfully suspenseful read.

Breaking the Heart Open is an autobiography that tells the personal and professional story of the growth to adulthood and retirement of one of Ireland’s leading clinical psychologists and CBT therapists.  It tells a parallel story to that of Edward Sanders, being as intense a portrayal of the search for the real self, though in another genre entirely.  It is an equally gripping read, and reading both books in tandem, I found the interplay of both stimulating and rewarding.  The hero or protagonist of the novel is as authentic a searcher for the real self as is the clinical psychologist, Dr Tony Bates, who is Adjunct Professor of Psychology at University College Dublin.  To list Dr Bates’s other accomplishments would take up too much space here; however, it will suffice to say that he founded Jigsaw (The National Centre for Youth Mental Health) in Ireland in 2006 to serve young people and their mental health needs.

This book is a searingly honest and inspiring account of a life lived authentically.  Tony recounts the various traumas he encountered while growing to maturity, and his storying of himself is lifelong and continues to this day.  The journey to selfhood is a lifelong pursuit, and Tony shares his hard-won wisdom and his insights into psychology and psychotherapy in this beautifully written, intense and occasionally lyrical book.  He has managed to make sense of his own suffering with the help of his deep studies in psychology, his close teamwork with other experts in his field and insights he has gained from his long service listening to patients over nearly forty years. His own life story is seamlessly interwoven with the story of helping and healing many people who have suffered much from poor mental well-being.  His comments are at times highly critical, though never eristic or polemical, of our psychiatric institutions, which he sees as having been and in some places still are over-medicalising the patients.  While obviously there is a need for good psychiatric care, including judicious use of powerful medications, Dr Bates contends that “we have over-medicalised human suffering by reducing the meaning of our pain to diseases rather than relationship experiences, history and social circumstances.” (p. 285)

I loved the author’s quotation from the author Isa Dinesin: “All our sorrows can be borne if you can put them into a story.” (p. xii) In short, this is an appeal to and for effective narrative therapy, and Tony Bates’s book is such an appeal as he realised soon enough in his early life as a practising psychologist that he had lived up till then “a story that was too small.” (p. xiii) In this autobiography, he treats us to a large and enlarging story that works through all his trauma and, in so doing, has helped and still helps many others through their mental pain.  What comes across in this riveting read is the passion and compassion of the author.  The title of the book is not surprising in this context as its inspiration derives from a quotation from Rumi: “You have to keep breaking your heart until it opens.”  In his compassion for the mental well-being of his patients and especially that of young people, Tony Bates shares his enlarging story of his humanity with us.  I cannot but agree with one of Tony’s Jigsaw Youth Advisers that “the road to mental health…is ultimately a solitary quest for one’s true self.” (p. 177)

Both the books reviewed here in this post explore that all-too-human quest through diverse genres, and reading the two in tandem heightened the suspense and added to the enlightenment of at least one reader.