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Graphic Medicine
Aliceheimer’s: Alzheimer’s Through the Looking Glass
"Alice was always beautiful--Armenian immigrant beautiful, with thick, curly black hair, olive skin, and big dark eyes," writes Dana Walrath. Alice also has Alzheimer's, and while she can remember all the songs from The Music Man, she can no longer attend to the basics of caring for herself. Alice moves to live with her daughter, Dana, in Vermont, and the story begins.
Aliceheimer's is a series of illustrated vignettes, daily glimpses into their world with Alzheimer's. Walrath's time with her mother was marked by humor and clarity: "With a community of help that included pirates, good neighbors, a cast of characters from space-time travel, and my dead father hovering in the branches of the maple trees that surround our Vermont farmhouse, Aliceheimer's let us write our own story daily--a story that, in turn, helps rewrite the dominant medical narrative of aging."
In drawing Alice, Walrath literally enrobes her with cut-up pages from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. She weaves elements from Lewis Carroll's classic throughout her text, using evocative phrases from the novel to introduce the vignettes, such as "Disappearing Alice," "Missing Pieces," "Falling Slowly," "Curiouser and Curiouser," and "A Mad Tea Party."
Walrath writes that creating this book allowed her not only to process her grief over her mother's dementia, but also "to remember the magic laughter of that time." Graphic medicine, she writes, "lets us better understand those who are hurting, feel their stories, and redraw and renegotiate those social boundaries. Most of all, it gives us a way to heal and to fly over the world as Alice does." In the end, Aliceheimer's is indeed strangely and utterly uplifting.
Aliceheimer's is a series of illustrated vignettes, daily glimpses into their world with Alzheimer's. Walrath's time with her mother was marked by humor and clarity: "With a community of help that included pirates, good neighbors, a cast of characters from space-time travel, and my dead father hovering in the branches of the maple trees that surround our Vermont farmhouse, Aliceheimer's let us write our own story daily--a story that, in turn, helps rewrite the dominant medical narrative of aging."
In drawing Alice, Walrath literally enrobes her with cut-up pages from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. She weaves elements from Lewis Carroll's classic throughout her text, using evocative phrases from the novel to introduce the vignettes, such as "Disappearing Alice," "Missing Pieces," "Falling Slowly," "Curiouser and Curiouser," and "A Mad Tea Party."
Walrath writes that creating this book allowed her not only to process her grief over her mother's dementia, but also "to remember the magic laughter of that time." Graphic medicine, she writes, "lets us better understand those who are hurting, feel their stories, and redraw and renegotiate those social boundaries. Most of all, it gives us a way to heal and to fly over the world as Alice does." In the end, Aliceheimer's is indeed strangely and utterly uplifting.
80 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2013
3 people are currently reading
210 people want to read
About the author
Dana Walrath
43 books29 followersI was born in Greensboro, North Carolina but my parents moved us back to New York City before I could even hold my head up. Like all young primates, I started out using my eyes and hands long before I began to use words. Reading came late—when it did I was crazy for books. The windows of my childhood bedroom were high and faced the street. After I was tucked in for the night, I would stand in my bed and read by streetlight. Still, unlike most writers, I never kept a journal or wrote a story or poem in grade school. All of my school papers were done with great anguish and at the last minute. Instead, I was always outside running or climbing or sledding or drawing or making something with my hands.
As a young New Yorker at Barnard College, Columbia University, I continued to avoid writing, and split my courses between visual arts and biology: painting with Milton Resnick, printmaking with Tony Smith, and lab work on the eye-brain connections of zebrafish. My oil paintings and intaglio prints were abstractions inspired by natural and biological forms of all scales. I was equally drawn to imagery seen under the microscope, and the sweep of the earth’s surface particularly when it has been worked and touched by humans for millennia.
A teaching thread in my life began when, fresh out of 10th grade, I landed with my family in Taiz, Yemen, and was promptly hired to teach 6th and 7th grade science and math at Yemen’s first experiment in bilingual co-education. More teaching continued out of college as an artist in residence for the Dobbs Ferry New York Public Schools, and as a Biology Lab Instructor at Barnard. As a young mother struggling to find time to make art, I decided to get “practical” (I know!) and wrote a dissertation on the anthropology of childbirth from the University of Pennsylvania. Anthropology—a discipline all about connections between every facet of being human— welcomed art and science and unlocked the creative writing door for me.
Since moving to the mountains of Vermont with my husband and three sons in the summer of 2000, I’ve used stories and art to teach medical students at the University of Vermont’s College of Medicine. Creative writing and artwork was done mostly during hours stolen from sleep and squeezed between other responsibilities. The balance tipped toward creative work shortly after my mother, Alice, and dementia moved in with us. Alice had always wanted me to be a doctor. When she stood in my kitchen in early 2008, admiring the cabinet knobs I had hand painted and said, “You should quit your job and make art full time,” I listened, and I haven’t looked back. When Alice lived with us, I had the great pleasure of earning an MFA in writing from Vermont College of Fine Arts.
As a young New Yorker at Barnard College, Columbia University, I continued to avoid writing, and split my courses between visual arts and biology: painting with Milton Resnick, printmaking with Tony Smith, and lab work on the eye-brain connections of zebrafish. My oil paintings and intaglio prints were abstractions inspired by natural and biological forms of all scales. I was equally drawn to imagery seen under the microscope, and the sweep of the earth’s surface particularly when it has been worked and touched by humans for millennia.
A teaching thread in my life began when, fresh out of 10th grade, I landed with my family in Taiz, Yemen, and was promptly hired to teach 6th and 7th grade science and math at Yemen’s first experiment in bilingual co-education. More teaching continued out of college as an artist in residence for the Dobbs Ferry New York Public Schools, and as a Biology Lab Instructor at Barnard. As a young mother struggling to find time to make art, I decided to get “practical” (I know!) and wrote a dissertation on the anthropology of childbirth from the University of Pennsylvania. Anthropology—a discipline all about connections between every facet of being human— welcomed art and science and unlocked the creative writing door for me.
Since moving to the mountains of Vermont with my husband and three sons in the summer of 2000, I’ve used stories and art to teach medical students at the University of Vermont’s College of Medicine. Creative writing and artwork was done mostly during hours stolen from sleep and squeezed between other responsibilities. The balance tipped toward creative work shortly after my mother, Alice, and dementia moved in with us. Alice had always wanted me to be a doctor. When she stood in my kitchen in early 2008, admiring the cabinet knobs I had hand painted and said, “You should quit your job and make art full time,” I listened, and I haven’t looked back. When Alice lived with us, I had the great pleasure of earning an MFA in writing from Vermont College of Fine Arts.
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Displaying 1 - 19 of 19 reviews
May 22, 2019
"I just wanted to know your name."
"Dana."
"Pretty name."
"Thanks. You gave it to me."
"And if I just call, you'll come?"
"It might not be me, but if you call, I promise you, someone nice will come."
"That's good. Thank you. I'll sleep well knowing that."
Alice was Dana Walrath's mother who came to live with her as she began to decline. Written and illustrated by Walrath, who is also an anthropologist, a kind of literary one. One way she thinks of this work is as literary ethnography, an ethnography of Alzheimers, with a focus on stories, in this case stories of her and her mom. They had been quite estranged, and in the process of her mom's "losing her marbles" (Walrath's way of putting it) they got closer. The writing is really heartfelt and amazing; the illustration, combining drawing and collage, is maybe somewhat less compelling, but I think this is terrific at helping us connect to aging and decline with some real humor and playfulness.
Here's an interview in the NY Times; if you are at all intrigued, take 2 minutes to click on this and look at some of the illustrations:
https://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2016/0...
"The dominant zombie story of bodies without minds strips people with dementia of their humanity and interferes with creating new kinds of familial connections. How many of us have the privilege of knowing our parents as children? Through connection we heal. Comics lead us to light because, subconsciously, we associate comics with laughter, and we need permission to laugh at sickness and not just describe it in medical terms. Laughter is respite. It opens new possibilities for how to cope."
"Dana."
"Pretty name."
"Thanks. You gave it to me."
"And if I just call, you'll come?"
"It might not be me, but if you call, I promise you, someone nice will come."
"That's good. Thank you. I'll sleep well knowing that."
Alice was Dana Walrath's mother who came to live with her as she began to decline. Written and illustrated by Walrath, who is also an anthropologist, a kind of literary one. One way she thinks of this work is as literary ethnography, an ethnography of Alzheimers, with a focus on stories, in this case stories of her and her mom. They had been quite estranged, and in the process of her mom's "losing her marbles" (Walrath's way of putting it) they got closer. The writing is really heartfelt and amazing; the illustration, combining drawing and collage, is maybe somewhat less compelling, but I think this is terrific at helping us connect to aging and decline with some real humor and playfulness.
Here's an interview in the NY Times; if you are at all intrigued, take 2 minutes to click on this and look at some of the illustrations:
https://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2016/0...
"The dominant zombie story of bodies without minds strips people with dementia of their humanity and interferes with creating new kinds of familial connections. How many of us have the privilege of knowing our parents as children? Through connection we heal. Comics lead us to light because, subconsciously, we associate comics with laughter, and we need permission to laugh at sickness and not just describe it in medical terms. Laughter is respite. It opens new possibilities for how to cope."
February 13, 2022
The creation of this book was very therapeutic for Dana, the author; and I believe that the reading of it would help anyone dealing with a loved one’s Alzheimer’s in much the same way. It helps to reframe Alzheimer’s less as a disease, and more as a “different way of being and a window into another reality,” that allows us to see how we can learn from the patient.
I found especially interesting how Walrath, with her perspective as a medical anthropologist, explained the critical difference between curing and healing.
The art was pencil and collage on canvas, made from torn pages of Alice in Wonderland. I wouldn’t classify it as a graphic novel but instead, short essays each illustrated by these relevant collages. This is another Graphic Medicine work that provides the valuable tool of graphic storytelling as part of the healing process for medical treatment.
I found especially interesting how Walrath, with her perspective as a medical anthropologist, explained the critical difference between curing and healing.
The art was pencil and collage on canvas, made from torn pages of Alice in Wonderland. I wouldn’t classify it as a graphic novel but instead, short essays each illustrated by these relevant collages. This is another Graphic Medicine work that provides the valuable tool of graphic storytelling as part of the healing process for medical treatment.
July 8, 2016
A very heartfelt, introspective and informative graphic novel about taking care of an aging parent who is losing ground to Alzheimer's disease. At times humorous, frightening and heartening the whole thing gives a lot of insight into what is going on for disease sufferers. The art on each page, collages made up of text from Alice Through the Looking Glass, pencil and other colorful paper brings the story to life and gives it another dimension.
I think anyone with aging parents, relatives or friends would find this book thoughtful, and gain something from reading it. For those who’ve read Can’t We Talk about Something More Pleasant, this one is a little more gentle and exploratory of the symptoms of Alzheimer's, it has less humor, though there is some, but it is also telling the story of a parent and child coming to get to know each other in a different way and become closer.
Highly recommended.
I think anyone with aging parents, relatives or friends would find this book thoughtful, and gain something from reading it. For those who’ve read Can’t We Talk about Something More Pleasant, this one is a little more gentle and exploratory of the symptoms of Alzheimer's, it has less humor, though there is some, but it is also telling the story of a parent and child coming to get to know each other in a different way and become closer.
Highly recommended.
November 6, 2018
Dana talks a lot in this book about how storytelling is part of her culture and part of herself, and boy is she right. This book is enthralling. It had me laughing out loud at times, and in complete awe at other times. The way Dana and family communicated with Alice throughout her Alzheimers journey is unlike anything I've ever seen, and I think so much of the benefit of having this book available for people on this same journey is to illustrate that you alone have the power to determine what methods of communication and coping will work for your family. Alice is lovely and sweet, and the narrative is gripping. I learned a lot about patience and communication from this book, and will be carrying that with me in many future conversations with people, not just those experiencing Alzheimers. Right now this is tied with Taking Turns as my favorite Graphic Medicine title.
October 2, 2024
so endearing and relevant to think of disability and alzheimer
December 1, 2022
I had to read this book for a university class, but I’m glad I did. Even though it’s not the illustration have a style for with I usually don’t go too, overall I find this graphic novel a very interesting and touching view over Alzheimer and the tournament of events that in can create in those ho live it. It was also unusual and fascinating to live all these stories and events though the lens of science, certainly not my cup of tea either. Overall, I enjoy navigating though the pages of Aliceheimer’s
May 24, 2017
I was a bit stuck on the format of this, collagey illustration page followed by a vignette about life taking care of a mom with dementia -- when things are published with graphic novels and really are picture books for adults I drag my feet about them. But this was very sweet, very tender, very honest, hard and lovely. We're all gonna be there some way in one way or another, learning and practicing compassion now is a really good plan. Walrath does her best to do that and share that journey with her reader, and it's effecting and sad and ...weirdly useful? I'm glad I finally dug in.
December 25, 2023
Agreed with another review that said they wouldn’t call this a graphic novel. It’s more a collection of short essays with the utilization of imagery at the beginning of each. I like the depiction of Alzheimer’s in the book as a way to remind that the person is still a person. Their reality is experienced in a different way. Working with dementia in my current professional capacity, this is simply a good reminder to be a part of their reality as best as I can. Important read for anyone going to work with dementia or memory care.
April 27, 2024
I read this book twice. Firstly, straight through, and then I went back and dipped into it. Aliceheimer's is a memoir of hope and love. Dana Walrath does not smooth over the difficulties of a parent having Alzheimer's but focuses on the connection with her mother and the healing that happened, particularly when Alice was living with her. I read it a second time so that I could appreciate the drawings more, their detail and magic.
April 11, 2019
Wow. Such a beautiful book. A fairly short read, but powerful and sweet.
I borrowed it from the library, but I'll be buying a copy soon.
Another reviewer said, "I think anyone with aging parents, relatives or friends would find this book thoughtful, and gain something from reading it." I agree wholeheartedly.
I borrowed it from the library, but I'll be buying a copy soon.
Another reviewer said, "I think anyone with aging parents, relatives or friends would find this book thoughtful, and gain something from reading it." I agree wholeheartedly.
November 8, 2017
Deeply touching. Almost like a short animation put into words.
April 24, 2019
A beautiful journey of mother & daughter as they experience the mother’s Alzheimer’s. Part diary, part visual expression.
March 16, 2020
Very well-written and drawn graphic novel of a daughter’s journey with her mother, Alice, and her mother’s Alzheimer’s disease. And incontinence.
May 22, 2021
This was an odd little book. I’m glad it seemed like the author was able to find peace in a troubling time.
June 5, 2023
At once devastating and uplifting. ❤️💔❤️
April 8, 2024
Heartbreaking. Loved the concept of "graphic medicine".
December 23, 2021
One of the sweetest stories I’ve ever read
July 21, 2016
I was excited to hear about a book about dementia which avoided the usual tragic narrative (Still Alice I'm looking at you...) but worried that recasting it as a magical Wonderland adventure might be taking things too far the other way. I needn't have worried though, the writing in this book is beautiful - a series of poignant vignettes I found incredibly moving. I wasn't as convinced by the illustrations. They are sweet, with a naive, sketchy quality that seems to capture Alice's personality but they are quite repetitive and I felt they were overshadowed by the brilliance of the writing. Anyone with an interest in dementia would get something from this book, including people who have been recently diagnosed themselves.
December 3, 2016
Came across a genre called graphic medicine and went looking for some of the titles. This one is great. A story accompanies a drawing in this moving and painful story of the author's mom suffering from Alzheimers. How do you continue to honor the person who was; what is the new mother-daughter relationship in light of this disease?
Displaying 1 - 19 of 19 reviews