"In the year 1830, I was unfortunately deprived of the use of reason...The Almighty allowed my mind to become a ruin under sickness-delusion of a religious nature, and treatment contrary to my nature. My soul survived that ruin."
So begins the most remarkable pre-Freudian account of schizophrenia ever put to paper. John Perceval, son of a prime minister of England, was certifiably insane from the years 1830-1832, and after his recovery he wrote an autobiographical account of his three years of schizophrenic illness. Perceval speaks of his illness and recovery with vigor and insight, giving a surprisingly modern view of schizophrenia: he regards it not as an oddity of his individual psychology but as something which was determined by his relations with his family and with the staffs of the various institutions in which he was incarcerated.
Gregory Bateson, famous ethnologist and anthropologist, has edited Perceval's account and written an illuminating introduction, and with both Bateson and Perceval as our guides into pre-Freudian psychology, this book becomes more important and startling than I Never Promised You a Rose Garden.
This is a hard book to review. John Perceval is a prig and a man who thinks being a gentleman gives him higher sensibilities than the rest of mankind. But he is also hones and, considering the ignorance of the doctors who served him, amazingly perceptive. The book is long and his complaints are repetitive, as are the brutalities that inspired them. Along the way you get as clear a sense as one can of what happens during a psychotic episode, and an equally clear picture of the skeptical mind that allowed Perceval to eventually overcome and silence his voices. The book tired me, but I kept on reading the way one keeps on listening to a man who repeats himself telling a sad and horrific tale. In some ways this is not a good book, but in others it may be a great book.