This is a remarkable book. There are a lot of people I would recommend this book to, but it is about trauma and so the author discusses trauma and describes traumatic events – and the more I thought about who I might recommend it to, the less I felt able to. I’m not sure I really can ‘recommend’ you read this – but then, I might be more squeamish than other people are with books on these topics. And dear god, there are people out there who do the most awful things to one another.
In one of Steven Pinker’s books I read years ago – either the Blank Slate or How the Mind Works – he says that father-daughter incest is incredibly rare, in fact, virtually unheard of – like most things he says, he said this with utter conviction and, like most things he seems to say outside of linguistics, he was completely and even dangerously wrong.
Like I’ve said, a lot of this book makes for unbearable reading. That said, I would still encourage you to read it if you can bring yourself to. Now, I’m not saying that for the normal bullshit reason people say such things – you know, because it gives you an insight into the dark side of the human condition (if you want that, you could just turn on the news), or that it is so inspiring to see people overcome near infinite aversity (I guess it must be, but there are better ways to be inspired), but I would suggest reading it because I think our world is becoming an increasingly traumatic place. I’m certainly not saying that modern life is the same as being raped by your drunken father while you are still in primary school, but I do think that modern life presents us with a sense of powerlessness, of disassociation, of an overwhelming sense of loathing for what we are forced to do in our day-after-day jobs and that all this can be (no, actually, IS) a source of mental trauma to far too many of us. If the trauma discussed here often happens with a bang, I think the slow drip, drip, drip of horror of a lot of modern life can have much the same accumulative impact. Couple that with the abject precariousness with which we hold our jobs, even while they cripple our sense of self-worth, and really, you get one of those perfect storms people seem to like to talk about – you know, lots of bad things and all of them happening at the same time.
I am a very strong believer in the power of narrative – we are not just ‘pattern making creatures’ but rather we are ‘story making creatures’. All the same, this isn’t always a good thing. The story Hitler told of German humiliation after WWI, of the power of world Jewry to cripple the German nation out of spite, of the Jewish link to Bolshevisms, and this and so much more, left us with a decade drowned in blood. My belief in the power of stories has always made me fond of the psychological ‘talking cure’ – well, fond for other people, if not so much for myself. I’ve always believed that if we can find ways to ‘rewrite’ our stories we gain power over our life. This book makes it clear that in cases of real and deep trauma this isn’t always possible, in fact, it is counter-productive at best.
The author explains that when we experience deeply traumatic events our brains ‘cope’ by shutting down those parts of the brain that are not immediately necessary for us to come out the other end of the event alive. The part of the brain that gets shut down that is most interesting in relation to post-traumatic stress is the bit that locates the event in time. (That part of the brain has a name, I’m never interested enough to remember those names – the book gives you all those names and maybe even more). I guess the brain figures that all times are one time if you it isn’t clear you are going to live through an event. The problem is that this means that the event then isn’t really connected to any specific time – and so it can never be ‘over’ – it is ‘ever-present’. That is, any trigger that brings the event back to mind doesn’t just remind you of the event – it puts you back into the immediacy of the event. You don’t just ‘remember’ the event – you are back living it. And this is why talking cures don’t work so well with trauma – if memory is like groves implanted on our brain, reliving events in all of their immediacy over and over again, as if these events are constantly in the present, turns those groves into canyons.
A lot of post-modern theory is interested in how our bodies embody who we are. A case in point is gender – what it means to become male and female is highly dependent on the culture you are brought up in. In pre-revolutionary China certain women had their feet bound since this was considered the height of feminine beauty – but you don’t need to physically bound parts of people’s bodies to embody social attitudes within them. The wearing of high heels comes to mind, of course, but I’m also thinking of the ‘man spread’ people complain about on trains – and yet, you never hear the same complaint about women. And why? Because women are taught to make themselves small throughout their lives in our culture and this eventually becomes so embodied within their identity as to be unnoticed by them or anyone else – well, unless they break the rule, take up more space than is allocated to them, and then everyone notices.
A large part of the point of this book is to show how trauma marks our bodies in ways we may not notice as being related to the trauma and that these marks, these embodied scars, while designed to ‘protect’ us, can often have the effect of prolonging and accentuating the scars the trauma has left.
As such, a lot of this book, at least the bits that consider at how to overcome trauma, look much less at what drugs you should take to make the symptoms disappear, but rather what can you do physically to control the effects of your trauma. The author practices EMDR – Eye Movement Desensitisation and Reprocessing – which, is something my daughter has been doing, and something I would have dismissed a few years ago as nonsense. As I said above, the point of much of trauma therapy is to convince your brain that the traumatic event is now in the past. It is pretty difficult to rewrite your story if the story seems to be happening right now and you are about to die. So, finding a way to think about that story and to also feel safe is pretty important. The author suggests that EMDR is one of the ways to achieve that – well, and patience too. He also has an entire chapter on yoga. He stresses the importance of becoming aware of one’s own body, and not just in the sense of noticing when you are hyperventilating or your heart is jumping out of your chest – although, these are good things to notice too – but also where memories feel like they are stored in your body. You know, where it is uncomfortable to be touched or, in yoga, which positions make you feel vulnerable and why that might be.
He also talks about the power of writing – I really do believe in this, like I’ve said already, I believe in stories. I really think that most of us miss the point of writing, that it is a way for us to see what we think, quite literally, and that we do not use this power nearly often enough. But, again, this comes back to my belief in the power of narrative, and perhaps it is just me.
Like I said at the beginning – it is hard to know if I can recommend this book, but it is fascinating stuff.
And Benjamin Rogers – thanks for recommending this to me, I’m very grateful.