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by Kay Redfield Jamison

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Genres: Psychology, Mental Health, Nonfiction, History, Memoir, Audiobook, Self Help

320 pages, Paperback

Published January 1, 2024

About the author

Kay Redfield Jamison (born June 22, 1946) is an American clinical psychologist and writer who is one of the foremost experts on bipolar disorder. She is Professor of Psychiatry at the Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine and is an Honorary Professor of English at the University of St Andrews.

Reviews

[Jeanne · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fires in the Dark: Healing the Unquiet Mind is at least the third of Kay Redfield Jamison's books that I've read; her memoir, An Unquiet Mind, and Night Falls Fast were the other two, although neither since I've been on GR.

Jamison's previous books have largely focused on the experience and consequences, good and ill, of bipolar disorder and suicide. Fires in the Dark is largely, "a love song to psychotherapy," a phrase that she would have used to subtitle this book (Schwartz, 2023).

Her description of psychotherapy is like that of a courageous journey with a fearless guide. Jamison – and the healers she quoted – describe this journey as often difficult and sometimes paradoxical: "to treat, even to cure, is not always to heal" (p. 3). Strong healers are curious, a refuge, at ease with ambiguity, comfortable with complexity, They help their clients (others prefer to talk about them as "patients") to feel safe, to make "intolerable memories tolerable" (p. 60), and hold "an unshakeable belief in … the ability to get well, compete, and make a difference" (p. 160). To heal is to recognize what was lost and to reshape that loss into something good. It often has a spiritual basis.

Jamison referred to a number of healers, most of whom were active in WWI. Almost all were white males, although she quoted some war nurses, as well as some fictional characters (e.g., T. H. White's Merlyn and P. L. Travers' Mary Poppins). She especially focused on the trauma of war.

Clearly, early 20th century is where Jamison's reading heart is, but as psychotherapy is a diverse field, focusing her reading there limits the kind of conclusions she could draw about psychotherapy, which she sees as generally long-term and insight-oriented, rather than emphasizing solution-focused treatments, Ericksonian hypnosis, or family therapy treatments.

Despite this limitation, Fires in the Dark is an engaging set of musings, although its path is not always clear. You may need to be comfortable with not always knowing where you're going.

[Bren · Rating 2 out of 5]

I was soo excited for this book, but from what I've learned with Jamison is that her books are history lessons. This book did not discuss anything about healing the unquiet mind. If anything there was a brief: "It will be hard, but have hope" line and that was it. The rest as a history lesson on WWII and the doctors around that time. I think if it was better researched on how to heal and presented as a study (like the title implies), it would have been a much better book. Half of the time I was reading/listening I just didn't understand why some parts of the book were in there.

[Alexis Michael · Rating 2 out of 5]

This was not what I expected. When reading about the book, my impression was it would discuss how therapy and the therapeutic relationship leads to healing. Instead, it is more focused on a literary exploration of the lives of a couple doctors in history, particularly WWI.

[Jessica · Rating 2 out of 5]

I have no idea what the thesis of this book is, and I read the entire thing. There were some beautifully eloquent passages, lots of poetry, lots of history of World War I, but what was the main idea? Couldn’t tell you.

[Laurie · Rating 2 out of 5]

I wanted to know more about the psychology behind it all—the research and findings. There was just so much back story on the different doctors, researchers, specific people historically that didn’t really add to what the book totes itself to be. It’s more of a series of history lessons —mini biographies, if you will— that occasionally mention something about how people react psychologically to a given circumstance. I ended up skimming much of the last part of the book.

[Lizzy Ritz · Rating 2 out of 5]

There were three words missing in the subtitle. “The History of”
There’s a lot of beauty packed in here but I was expecting something more Illuminative of our current pathways.

[George Ferrick · Rating 5 out of 5]

Immensely timely - Putin should read it thrice!

War and it’s horrors in its wake. Healers In it’s midst. Honor, duty, sacrifice. But could there be another way, so that youth would not have to put their bodies and spirits on the line.
And their parents, grandparents, siblings, and friends mourn? Whence comes the enemy, the monster, the bully, or the dueling egos necessitate the throwing of bodies against each other, until the last is standing? And an end can be called to the war?
But a beginning of mourning, living with lived loss, PTSD, parentless children, homes, cities destroyed in need of reconstruction, nature wounded and forests bereft, wildlife innocent forgotten victims in man’s wake.
With the planet at risk, and such resources diverted and squandered? Why? Read, ponder, empathize, weep, act, vote, dedicate.

[jrendocrine at least reading is good · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read Kay Jameson’s An Unquiet Mind last century (!) and really enjoyed it. Here, she treads again in the fields of psychiatry, but not about her own bipolar disorder (treated), asking – what does it take to make a doctor successful in approaching patients with psychological disturbance? As a whole the book doesn’t fully hold together, but there are parts that are sublime:

The first section “The Mind at War” and the final 2 chapters which returns to the same subject are marvelous. Jameson concentrates on 2 doctors who treated broken men from the front of the Great War. The first is William Osler – known to all doctors for his towering approach to clinical medicine and teaching of doctors in training, which has had a lasting and positive effect on American medicine. I learned that Osler lost his only, and beloved, son in the killing fields of France; this affected his approach to medicine – his permanent grief was only born through work. Actually pretty inspiring.

Then Jameson turns to WHR Rivers (who should have been the entire book IMO), including his treatment of Sigfried Sassoon and his enormous effect on psychiatry. I had come to know WHRR through Pat Barker’s incandescent Regeneration Trilogy (still one of my all time favorites) – I dreamed of, admired, and identified with Rivers (his visual agnosia!). Here Rivers saves Sassoon’s life and guides young soldiers through their grief – by facing it. Just an inspiring beautiful man.

Other sections are less coherent. The chapters about ancient physicians, e.g., Imhotep and Asclepius, and the Big Sur/Esalen days, didn’t seem to go anywhere. [I did, give a start seeing the color plate of Freud’s study in Hampstead – my mother had painted this same scene – I always thought she had painted Freud's consultation room in Vienna and that she had made up all the busts!! It’s my favorite of all her pictures and I look at it every day! Thank you, K Jameson for this personal gift/comeuppance to me!]

I suppose the point of the book is made, though with some effort – that the clinician must guide the unquiet mind back to living and prospering in the world without resorting to Nepenthe, rather that suffering must be faced, and that the work toward understanding is hard.

[Joel Cuthbert · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'm not entirely sure my reading dates are quite correct on this one.. but anyways. I also feel this is one of those books where I feel a half-star might help me more accurately convey my appraisal of it.

It's a beautiful-looking book, and at points is quite beautifully written. It is full of intriguing promise, but it doesn't quite provide what it would appear to suggest. I will say the fact that the last 60-80 pages are all notes gives you a bit of an indication the kind of book that it is. It is marketed in a certain way, to plummet the depth of how folks have attempted to heal the mind, but it definitely veers a bit more into the historical than the entirely practical. It also strangely gets personal, but inconsistently, the author seems to reveal a handful of her cards, but only if you've made it 2/3ds of the way through. It felt a bit out of place, like perhaps these were really a bunch of individual essays, cobbled together by a hasty editor.

But I also found that the moment I was really growing a bit frustrated with it, I would then enter a really meaningful passage that I felt added a bit of a holistic approach to how the complex history of "healing of the mind" as unfurled.

I'm studying to be a therapist at present, and I have a bit of a soft spot for History, this does quite blend the two, but it might be better advertised as a book of history, touching on psychology, than what is quite understandably assumed is something the other way around.

[Kyle Wheeler · Rating 3 out of 5]

I've read Jamison's other books and found them quite interesting. This one was different from what I expected. While she talks about some of her personal journey through the darkness of mental illness, this is mostly about how healers and how they helped people serving in World War I and the trauma they experienced. Part of the job was to heal them so they could return to the front line. Healers were also traumatized by what they endured tending to the wounded. If you haven't read Jamison's other books, I recommend those more, but if you want a bit of history of the medical knowledge of earlier eras, this will appeal to you. For a better review of this book, I suggest searching through others' reviews of this book on Goodreads. There are some much more detailed and useful than I am providing here.

[Jasmine · Rating 3 out of 5]

A much deeper read than anticipated. Rather than discussing the semantics of psychotherapy, it seems like Jamison intends to give an expansive cultural history of treatment and healing of mental suffering through sharing the stories of healers, artists, and soldiers. The book starts with discussing the healing process of the mind to the role of writers and artists to the influence of companionship and ends with the necessity for knowledge.

That said, it was hard to discern the central thesis of Jamison’s writing. There were many touching scenes that were hard to put together to form the overarching picture of her work.

[Leigh Williams · Rating 5 out of 5]

Such a beautifully written book ❤️
"We all look in our different ways to find the way back from pain, to find the way to peace and redemption. We look for purpose, for the rock that is higher than us. We look to healers for courage and the way forward. We look to them for convoy and toughness, for knowledge and humanity. We seek the balm of Gilead that makes the wounded whole." -
III The Healing Arts - Hero, Artist, and Storyteller -
Ch. 9 They Looked To Their Songs

[Scott Pearson · Rating 5 out of 5]

Kay Redfield Jamison is a well-known psychotherapist at Johns Hopkins who herself famously suffers from bipolar disorder. In 1996, she wrote eloquently about her journey in An Unquiet Mind. In this book, she posits the idea that to be most effective, healers – the doctors, counselors, and leaders – need to be healed themselves. To support her argument, she provides life narratives of many such eminent people, with a focus on the early-to-mid twentieth century.

Jamison uses historical stories to illustrate that many of the best healers are sufferers, too. She explores the phenomenon known as “shell shock” in World War I. At the time, soldiers experiencing this were sent away from the front to heal. Strangely, those who are healed were immediately sent back to the front to fight and often die. At the time, physicians and nurses saw this inherent contradiction in their work. Their task from the military enabled more dreary death.

Many of these discursions serve as meditations, almost like short homilies in a memorial service. They are not overtly directional but instead meander, much like a psychotherapeutic encounter. The psychiatrist WHR Rivers plays a leading role in this discourse, and other well-known topics include Paul Robeson, Notre Dame Cathedral, Siegfried Sassoon, ancient Greek medicine, and William Osler. In the epilogue, Jamison says that she started out to write a book about healing, but she ended up writing a book about healers.

This work will disappoint readers who like a structured, orderly writing style that engages contemporary debates. It’s well-researched and interesting, but it’s neither controversial nor trending. It’s more about circumspectly peering into others’ private lives to find how they find healing. Her thesis that those healed make the best healers is echoed throughout the centuries, but is strangely forgotten in modern medical training, with all its focus on objectivity and evidence. In practice, healing remains as much of an art as a science, particularly in fields like psychiatry and psychotherapy. Jamison, a provider and receiver of life-healing aid, reminds us of this thematic strand in history. I think her contribution here contains an idea that deserves to be heard and reflected upon.

[Brian Balke · Rating 5 out of 5]

Broadly, psychology is concerned with understanding and influencing behavior. The specializations of psychiatry and psychotherapy narrow their concern to help us control behaviors that threaten our well-being. Psychiatry uses surgical and chemical interventions to rebalance our behaviors; psychotherapy seeks to illuminate those behaviors and nurture self-regulation. Historians of psychology know that both disciplines are subject to faddish devotion to silver-bullet prescriptions that are deemed, ultimately, to harm the public. This is supported by recent studies that reveal the irrelevance of method: healing is found not in the confines of the patient’s cranium but in the nurturing embrace of the therapeutic relationship.

Kay Redfield Jamison, in “Fires in the Dark,” seeks to illuminate the character of great psychological healers. As therapist, patient, and teacher, she approaches the question from diverse perspectives. In her conclusion, however, those threads are left dangling.

Perhaps that is only to be expected, given the majesty of the program she undertakes. It starts in the desperation of World War I, where the prodigality of industrial warfare broke the belief that nations could profit by spending the blood of their sons on foreign battlefields. Painting, in her opening chapters, the gruesome medical realities, Jamison orients us to the pressures that turned heroes into psychological invalids and pacifists.

Confronting this apocalypse, healers rallied to the service of their brothers. Jamison chooses William Halse Rivers Rivers as her avatar, a man of prodigious intellectual achievement: scientist, author, teacher, and heir to English military glory – but also sufferer from melancholy and exhaustion relieved most effectively by maritime voyaging to exotic research locales.

In elaborating Rivers’ art, Jamison turns to the reflections of Siegfried Sassoon. First a hero of the trenches, then pacifist rescued from execution by a diagnosis of nervous collapse, Sassoon documented the horrors of war in his poetry and memorialized Rivers’ life. In their interaction, we witness the foundations of cultural affinity, curiosity, and duty at work in the therapeutic process. In Sassoon, specifically, we also are confronted with the question of how sane people navigate insane societies, a theme that presages the final chapter describing the entombment of the Unknown Soldier as a ritual that helped to close England’s self-inflicted wound, thus leaving it vulnerable to repetition in World War II.

As a counter-current, Jamison describes her own search for wisdom and healing. Her reflections are interspersed with the narrative, first as conclusions drawn from professional history, but becoming progressively more personal as she documents her adult struggle with bipolar disorder. In the middle section of the book, Jamison ventures to ancient Greece, exploring the principles of integrative healing and myth, introducing themes that inform map-mapping as a therapeutic strategy. Rather than elaborating this practice in depth, however, Jamison reflects on the influence of mythic story-telling (LeGuin’s Earthsea, Stevenson’s Treasure Island, and Mary Poppins) in nurturing moral and intellectual autonomy in youthful readers. The counter-current ends with early childhood memories of navigating the treacherous waters of the Potomac Bay – at once dangerous and profligately alive – a metaphor that leaves me wondering whether Jamison sees mental disorientation as an essential fertilizer for a fulfilled life.

Throughout, Jamison’s writing and perspectives are tender and deeply humane, illuminating the challenges of healing in our disjointed age to leave me humbled and mournful. Unfortunately, her search for the elements essential to the therapist’s character runs aground, hinted at only in the testimony of students and patients as to being absorbed within mental clarity and purpose.

In her case, Jamison’s brush with greatness of soul was an experience in Esalen of “falling into the stars.” Running to her academic advisor, she was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and put on lithium to suppress recurrences. Contrast this with Eastern mysticism, which would recognize such an experience as “enlightenment” that presaged growth, or with the power of Rivers’ presence forged from the struggle to unify both integrative (anthropological) and reductionist (neurophysiological) perspectives on the human condition, or with the traditions of ancient Greece where Asclepius was placed in the heavens by Zeus as a guide to future healers.

If Jamison reaches a demoralizing cul-de-sac in her quest, I would hazard that it is because modern psychology has beaten the soul out of her.

[Judy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Thanks to Netgalley for an ARC: This is a beautifully written book, but it's not linear. The NYT review calls it a "kaleidoscope"--and I found that accurate. The author, a psychology professor who has written about her bipolar illness wrote: "I set out to write about healing and wrote about healers." Jamison wrote a long introduction which to help readers understand the book. She explores healers--psychiatrists and physicians who exemplify the best of medicine, and the things that allow her to heal--literature, music, people. It isn't a straightforward exploration, but all of the various chapters are well researched and fascinating. I understand other reviewers' frustrations. I consider this book a resource, a reference and a wonderful historical exploration. Healthcare is struggling right now--psychiatrists aren't even taught psychological counseling in training and the more easily studied and shorter types of therapy are in vogue--not that they're better. Jamison starts with a quote from Paul Farmer about walking with a patient for a long time. What an ideal. The book does require some patience, but it's well rewarded. I would use it in medical education.

[Maryann Jorissen · Rating 2 out of 5]

I noticed a few disconnects while reading this book:

The title indicates a book covering psychology and psychiatry spanned over the years. Instead it was a medley of legendary men that were gifted in the art of counseling and who provided comfort to soldiers during WWI. In fact most of the time/setting was during the First World War. The title and summary fail to point to how much of the focus is WWI.
Several gifted men were described over the pages. But even with these individual descriptions much of content deviated to events specific to the war itself. In doing so, content seemed to vacillate among the thoughts of general groups involved in the war and the works of renowned healers.
The premise seems obscure. All the pieces—great doctors and healers, the war, shell shock, individual poets, groups of men/women working in the war effort, and theories of healing—-were poorly organized, making this book a puzzling read. Did the author really cover what she meant to cover? Or did she get lost in a jumble of subjects that failed to intersect?
My final impression was one of disappointment.

[Elizabeth Renter · Rating 3 out of 5]

I have enjoyed a lot of Jamison's work, but this one was tough. More meandering than her other books, and it didn't deliver on the broad promise of the title. She seemed to go down rabbit holes only mildly related to the thesis, for pages upon pages. Further, the overwhelming majority of the discussion was spent specifically on people WWI, and as such overwhelmingly European men. At times I had to remind myself what the book was supposed to be about, as I'd find myself reading about something seemingly unrelated for 10 pages at a time.
My final disappointment with the book: Kindle showed 488 total pages. Imagine my disappointment when the book actually ended at page 324. The final ~160 pgs were footnotes. I kept expecting for her to focus the topic in coming pages, until I ran out of pages.
All of this said, she still has a way with words, and I found myself highlighting phrases that I really enjoyed. Unlike her other books, however, this one will not be re-read.

[Bakahaze · Rating 2 out of 5]

Jamison lays out her key ideas in the prologue of the book.

Suffering teaches. Death teaches. Ritual and prayer gives solace and helps us grieve. Vigorous engagement with life heals, through experiencing or creating art, music and poetry. Nature heals. Hard work heals.

And so healers must imbue all of these elements into their priestly role. Read widely, console the spirit, learn from their own wounds and suffering, and inspire hope and bear witness to those who are on their quest and journey for recovery.

Poetic and filled with pathos, what follows is a meandering journey through an "archipelago of thoughts, experiences and images" reflecting on the tragedy of the Great War, stories of healers, artists and Jamison's individual experiences. However, the stories do not clearly relate to Jamison's thesis and readers searching for structured and concrete ideas to healing the unquiet mind will be disappointed and confused.

[Mary · Rating 4 out of 5]

What I can say is that in my life right now, I feel like I’m carrying a backpack full of heavy rocks. The things I read either make the backpack lighter or heavier. This made the backpack heavier and I finished it and felt like the extra weight was worth it, partly because it gave me a way to think about people I love who are struggling without being overwhelmed (it is mostly hopeful and the way it interweaves poetry in particular spoke to me in helpful ways) and because it was interesting in its perspective (focusing on early 20th century pioneers in the field of psychotherapy and their relationship to their patients.) For my money, the last paragraph or two of the Epilogue is as helpful a philosophy of life as any I’ve heard. I’m glad to be on the other side of reading this, but it means something that its weight was worth it to me.

[Natalia Weissfeld · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fires in the Dark: Healing the Unquiet Mind By Kay Redfield Jamison is a fantastic book about mental health, what makes a good healer and the incredibly curative power of words and imagination. In this book the author explores mental suffering throughout history. From the concept of the wounded healer in the mythic Greek centaur, Chiron,

to PTSD during wartime and the story of doctors and nurses in the battlefield. From the use of psilocybin in indigenous religious ceremonies to induce mystical and transcendent states and to alter mood to psychotherapy in all its forms and shapes; the book is fascinating. If you are interested in mental health from a historical standpoint, then you will find this book very enriching.

[Felicia Ho · Rating 4 out of 5]

A surprisingly literary read.

Started this thinking it would be similar to books calling for better mental health care in the states, especially in the wake of Covid, but instead dove straight into a book about the history of healers (Osler, Rivers) and poets (Sassoon, Owen). The writing is beautiful and the messages elegantly put — especially on such challenging and difficult topics as war and shell shock.

Main takeaways are hard to pull out, however, so I wish there was more closure on ideas rather than description of stories alone. A thoroughly enjoyable read in the end, but not necessarily what I expected. Now intrigued to dig deeper into medical history.

[Kaylee Dupree · Rating 2 out of 5]

This was not ultimately what I thought I would be listening to and at times hard times attend to. I read the first one she wrote years ago, and thought this would be a follow up or more treatment focused being the first was a memoir. It turned out to be stories about individuals from the war, doctors, and insight on the ultimate healers she has encountered throughout her life and her own healing journey. She admits that the book is not what she set out for it to be in the epilogue, but that she is pleased with it. She feels that understanding powerful healers helps to implement healing within one's self and patients.

[Samuel Kinch · Rating 3 out of 5]

Simply a blank check for Jamison to write about the historic thinkers who have influenced her. None of the episodes were boring, but there was little to connect between them. An enjoyable audiobook, but would have been difficult to get through on paper.

"Psychotherapeutic techniques, like medications, come and go. Human nature and its needs are more constant. My book is, more than anything, a reflection on healing the mind. It is an archipelago of thoughts, experiences, and images. It is a book that looks back on the ancient, learns from the modern, and tries to discern the common threads and practices of extraordinary healing."

[Renia Carsillo · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book has some beautiful parts and a fascinating history, but it reads more like a group of disjointed essays and historical papers than a cohesive or unified thought or thesis. Taking it in pieces, the writing and the historical frames are beautiful. Unfortunately, I could never find a cohesive thread to bring the thoughts together in a way that would make it a "book" or even a collection. I wish I'd consumed this as a series of articles instead of with the expectation that the whole would offer something greater than the individual parts.

[Abby Howell · Rating 3 out of 5]

Three stars because the writing was decent. More like a bunch of solid essays, most about World War 1, the war poets, and two specific doctors. Some about the author herself. Nothing groundbreaking or new. But, as a whole, the book never seems to have a point. It is definitely not about "healing the unquiet mind". More like an uncritical paean about the good of psychotherapy. It's like the book was half-written and the author couldn't quite figure out what she was really writing about.

[Morgan Wilcock]

"'The minds of these patients were fragmented,' [A.J. Brock] wrote of his shell-shocked patients. 'Their memories held such painful content that they tended to let the past slip altogether,' They lost their bearings and their contact with the world."

This book, which opens with and hones in throughout on discussions of WWI trauma patients, reminded me so much of myself that I'm terrified that sexual trauma can be comparable to war trauma and what's at stake for me is literally that bad. Say that's just not true. At least that brings me out of me-myself-I mode a little bit; yes, I've lost my contact with the world. I've forgotten sequences from my past.

What I appreciate about this book -- and it's the first one I've read by this just really incredible person whose name my uncle introduced to me, Kay Redfield Jameson -- is its emphasis on the intimate connection between madness and creativity, and how with the right or wrong supervision the best artists, poets and singers (like Paul Robeson), can either triumph or suffer unfathomably. Soldiers too. I'm at a stage in my treatment when I feel like I'm running all the time from some sort of patriarchy that governs most medicine; each time I feel like I follow some sort of lead toward being healed and I feel hope that I'll be given really good treatment, some trap door opens and I fall right through it. I hope that someday I can even hold a candle to writing about trauma -- one's own or just anyone's -- that is this brilliant.

[Bill Barnes · Rating 3 out of 5]

I was excited to get this book because of a review in The Atlantis. The first half was at least 4 stars but she lost me in the second half, thus the 3 stars. Beautiful writing and insights on Sassoon and his relationship with Rivers. The detour with Robeson was a complete head-scratcher. At least she doesn’t dodge the fact that Robeson was breathtakingly naive about Stalin. Some beautiful writing but she could have used an editor for considerable tightening.

[Maddie Ostergaard · Rating 4 out of 5]

Really moving and interesting. It combines a lot of different themes and elements that are used in healing. It doesn’t seem to have any sort of structure and feels like a personal collection of musings rather than a comprehensive or extensive delve into the topic of healing. That being said, healing itself is in everything we do and is a constant process, so to make something comprehensive or extensive on healing is most likely futile. I enjoyed this valiant effort.

[Maggie · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a thoughtful and interesting book, although not linear. It’s nicely researched, and nearly poetic in its writing. The foundation of healing healers first shouldn’t be as novel as it is, and I loved exploring the concept and its history.
Thanks to NetGalley and Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage, and Anchor for allowing access to a digital ARC.

[Michael Weinraub]

I'm glad I learned about the Osler and Rivers, and the descriptions of how a skilled therapist can transform a person's beliefs about themself and their hope for healing was inspirational. There was a bit of a ramble here among characters but the dive into the minds of men and women in healing was interesting.