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Trauma
Trauma: Writing about art and mental health includes contributions from a range of well respected authors, such as Marina Benjamin, Yvonne Conza, Rhiannon L Cosslett, Neil Griffiths, Juliet Jacques, Kirsty Logan, Sophie Mackintosh, Alex Pheby, Monique Roffey, Tamim Sadikali, Joseph Schreiber, and the film-maker David Lynch. The essays range from the personal to the political, from the raw to the reflective, exploring topics such as grief, insomnia, anxiety, schizophrenia, meditation, abusive relationships, work, and the relationship between madness and creativity. Emma Jane Unsworth's essay focuses on post-natal depression; James Miller's explores the impact of Trump and the political climate on our collective mental health; David Lynch's essay explores the healing benefits of Transcendental Meditation. Matt Haig's successful books have demonstrated a huge appetite for mental health, but this anthology aims at a more literary readership who want to think about the issues with greater depth. This is the first anthology exploring this issue published in the UK.
300 pages, Paperback
First published January 21, 2021
1 person is currently reading
96 people want to read
About the author
Sam Mills
29 books24 followersSamantha Mills
Sam Mills was born in 1975. After graduating from Lincoln College, Oxford University, she worked briefly as a chess journalist and publicist before becoming a full-time writer. She has contributed short stories to literary magazines such as Tomazi and 3am and written articles for the Guardian, The Weeklings and The Independent.
She is the author of 3 young adult novels, published by Faber, including The Boys Who Saved the World, which is currently being adapted for film and the award-winning Blackout. Her debut novel for adults, The Quiddity of Will Self (Corsair) was described by The Sunday Times as “an ingenious, energetic read” and the Guardian as “an extraordinary novel of orgiastic obsession.” Sam is one of the founding members of the Will Self Club.
Sam Mills was born in 1975. After graduating from Lincoln College, Oxford University, she worked briefly as a chess journalist and publicist before becoming a full-time writer. She has contributed short stories to literary magazines such as Tomazi and 3am and written articles for the Guardian, The Weeklings and The Independent.
She is the author of 3 young adult novels, published by Faber, including The Boys Who Saved the World, which is currently being adapted for film and the award-winning Blackout. Her debut novel for adults, The Quiddity of Will Self (Corsair) was described by The Sunday Times as “an ingenious, energetic read” and the Guardian as “an extraordinary novel of orgiastic obsession.” Sam is one of the founding members of the Will Self Club.
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
February 7, 2022
I’ll never learn: I left it over 10 months between finishing this and writing it up. And took no notes. So it’s nearly impossible to recreate the reading experience. What I do recall, however, is how wide-ranging and surprising I found this book. At first I had my doubts, thinking that it was overkill to describe sad events like a break-up or loss as “traumatic”. But an essay midway through (which intriguingly trades off autobiographical text by Kirsty Logan and Freudian interpretation and Paul McQuade) set me straight: trauma cannot be quantified or compared; it’s all about the “unpreparedness of the subject. A traumatic event overwhelms all the defences laid out in advance against the encroachment of negative experience.”
The pieces might be straightforward memoir fragments or playful, experimental narratives more like autofiction. (Alex Pheby’s is in the second person, for instance.) Within those broad branches, though, the topics vary widely. James Miller writes about the collective horror at the Trump presidency. Emma Jane Unsworth recounts a traumatic delivery – I loved getting this taste of her autobiographical writing but, unfortunately, it outshone her full-length memoir, which I read later on in the year. Susanna Crossman tells of dressing up as a clown for her clinical therapy work. Naomi Frisby (the much admired blogger behind The Writes of Woman) uses food metaphors to describe how she coped with the end of a bad relationship with a narcissist.
As is inevitable with a collection this long, there are some essays that quickly fade in the memory and could have been omitted without weakening the book as a whole. But it’s not gracious to name names, and, anyway, it’s likely that different pieces will stand out for other readers based on their own experiences.
Four favourites: “Inheritance” by Christiana Spens, about investigating her grandparents’ lives through screen prints and writing after her father’s death and her son’s birth; “Blank Spaces” by Yvonna Conza, about the lure of suicide; “The Fish Bowl” by Monique Roffey, about everyday sexual harassment and an assault she underwent as a teenager (I enjoyed this so much more than her latest novel); and “Thanks, I’ll Take the Chair” by Jude Cook, about being in therapy.
The pieces might be straightforward memoir fragments or playful, experimental narratives more like autofiction. (Alex Pheby’s is in the second person, for instance.) Within those broad branches, though, the topics vary widely. James Miller writes about the collective horror at the Trump presidency. Emma Jane Unsworth recounts a traumatic delivery – I loved getting this taste of her autobiographical writing but, unfortunately, it outshone her full-length memoir, which I read later on in the year. Susanna Crossman tells of dressing up as a clown for her clinical therapy work. Naomi Frisby (the much admired blogger behind The Writes of Woman) uses food metaphors to describe how she coped with the end of a bad relationship with a narcissist.
As is inevitable with a collection this long, there are some essays that quickly fade in the memory and could have been omitted without weakening the book as a whole. But it’s not gracious to name names, and, anyway, it’s likely that different pieces will stand out for other readers based on their own experiences.
Four favourites: “Inheritance” by Christiana Spens, about investigating her grandparents’ lives through screen prints and writing after her father’s death and her son’s birth; “Blank Spaces” by Yvonna Conza, about the lure of suicide; “The Fish Bowl” by Monique Roffey, about everyday sexual harassment and an assault she underwent as a teenager (I enjoyed this so much more than her latest novel); and “Thanks, I’ll Take the Chair” by Jude Cook, about being in therapy.
March 22, 2021
Trauma: ‘A deeply distressing and disturbing experience’.
Sam Mills and Thom Cuell’s anthology Trauma: Essays on Art and Mental Health consists of 32 essays about the different varieties of trauma. Although the subject of mental is one that is often discussed, one cannot help noticing that during the lockdown situation caused by the pandemic, the need for mental well-being has increased. Thus this anthology’s publication is timely.
As Trauma covers a lot of ground, I thought that I’d focus on some of my favourite essays. Generally when faced with an anthology, I try mention every single piece and group them up according to theme but I decided to do things a bit differently. Just 2 notes: All essays here are excellent so even choosing a few was difficult, secondly there is a mixture between personal essays and slightly more academic ones. I veered a towards the personal.
One of my personal favourites was Naomi Frisby’s A Recipe for Madness, which is her account of her relationship with a narcissist. I liked the way Naomi writes in detail every step of the relationship: from the fantastic beginning, where the narcissist puts her on a pedestal to the end where she is abandoned and caught in a web of lies. Not only do we readers get a picture of this type of behaviour but also how it psychologically affects the person who tries to love the narcissist. It’s a powerful essay.
Monique Roffey’s essay of an incident of sexual trauma which happened to her in her early teenage years is an interesting one. Rather than than spew rage and hatred, Roffey states that she would like to meet her abuser and listen to him. Her philosophy is that love will help combat everyday pain of these types of incidents.
Joseph Schrieber’s Unravelling of the Self is an intimate look at how being depressed with one’s gender can be traumatic as well. Having just read a Time article about how Elliott Page’s transition also made them happier is proof that no matter what the situation is, we need to do our best to be mentally healthy.
These are just three essays. In quick rapid fire style here are some more I liked: Kirsty Logan’s and Paul McQuade’s ‘conversation’ of a bad time Kirsty was going through with McQuade’s interventions on the nature of trauma and the attempts to overcome it, is an excellent look at how to balance the personal with academic, Seraphina Madsen’s Telsa, Murdered by Society is a brilliant look at the life of Telsa and the causes of his eventual breakdown, Emma Jane Unsworth’s Hallelujah is about the trauma of giving birth, editor Sam Mills The Shattering is a deep dive in the nature of Schizophrenia. I can go on: Rowena Macdonald’s Quite Collected… meanwhile is a spot on depiction of anxiety, Tom Tomaszewski’s Landing in Poland is an interesting look at how one’s homeland can be triggering and Anna Vaught’s piece on madness and writing , In Order to Live, is a stunner as well.
Does Trauma: Essays on Art and Mental Health, offer solutions? the answer is no BUT there are definitely times when one can relate to the topics discussed and I find that equally helpful. It’s like someone telling you that these incidents do occur and the methods some of the authors used to help themselves does give hope.
I cannot recommend this book enough. Whether one has a passing interest in the subject, is wholly invested in the different forms of trauma or is a trauma victim, I can assure that this anthology is required reading. Sometimes with trauma there is a feeling that one fighting a lost battle but an anthology like this will make one realise that out there, you can find something relatable.
Sam Mills and Thom Cuell’s anthology Trauma: Essays on Art and Mental Health consists of 32 essays about the different varieties of trauma. Although the subject of mental is one that is often discussed, one cannot help noticing that during the lockdown situation caused by the pandemic, the need for mental well-being has increased. Thus this anthology’s publication is timely.
As Trauma covers a lot of ground, I thought that I’d focus on some of my favourite essays. Generally when faced with an anthology, I try mention every single piece and group them up according to theme but I decided to do things a bit differently. Just 2 notes: All essays here are excellent so even choosing a few was difficult, secondly there is a mixture between personal essays and slightly more academic ones. I veered a towards the personal.
One of my personal favourites was Naomi Frisby’s A Recipe for Madness, which is her account of her relationship with a narcissist. I liked the way Naomi writes in detail every step of the relationship: from the fantastic beginning, where the narcissist puts her on a pedestal to the end where she is abandoned and caught in a web of lies. Not only do we readers get a picture of this type of behaviour but also how it psychologically affects the person who tries to love the narcissist. It’s a powerful essay.
Monique Roffey’s essay of an incident of sexual trauma which happened to her in her early teenage years is an interesting one. Rather than than spew rage and hatred, Roffey states that she would like to meet her abuser and listen to him. Her philosophy is that love will help combat everyday pain of these types of incidents.
Joseph Schrieber’s Unravelling of the Self is an intimate look at how being depressed with one’s gender can be traumatic as well. Having just read a Time article about how Elliott Page’s transition also made them happier is proof that no matter what the situation is, we need to do our best to be mentally healthy.
These are just three essays. In quick rapid fire style here are some more I liked: Kirsty Logan’s and Paul McQuade’s ‘conversation’ of a bad time Kirsty was going through with McQuade’s interventions on the nature of trauma and the attempts to overcome it, is an excellent look at how to balance the personal with academic, Seraphina Madsen’s Telsa, Murdered by Society is a brilliant look at the life of Telsa and the causes of his eventual breakdown, Emma Jane Unsworth’s Hallelujah is about the trauma of giving birth, editor Sam Mills The Shattering is a deep dive in the nature of Schizophrenia. I can go on: Rowena Macdonald’s Quite Collected… meanwhile is a spot on depiction of anxiety, Tom Tomaszewski’s Landing in Poland is an interesting look at how one’s homeland can be triggering and Anna Vaught’s piece on madness and writing , In Order to Live, is a stunner as well.
Does Trauma: Essays on Art and Mental Health, offer solutions? the answer is no BUT there are definitely times when one can relate to the topics discussed and I find that equally helpful. It’s like someone telling you that these incidents do occur and the methods some of the authors used to help themselves does give hope.
I cannot recommend this book enough. Whether one has a passing interest in the subject, is wholly invested in the different forms of trauma or is a trauma victim, I can assure that this anthology is required reading. Sometimes with trauma there is a feeling that one fighting a lost battle but an anthology like this will make one realise that out there, you can find something relatable.
January 1, 2022
Trauma is an anthology of thirty-two essays by contemporary writers, sharing with remarkable frankness their experience of mental illness caused by, and sometimes causing trauma. Some of the writers have experienced physical, sexual and emotional abuse; others have lived with drug and/or alcohol addiction. Their illnesses have been diagnosed (and sometimes misdiagnosed) as depression; schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, gender dysphoria and insomnia. All of them are survivors, and art of one kind or another has been intrinsic to their sense of having a future.
The book is not one that can be read in a sustained way. I've read it over successive afternoons, just one or sometimes two essays at a time. It takes time to reflect on, and absorb the story that the contributors have to tell. Some stand out more than others: I mentioned 'We Awful, Awful' by Ian Boutlon in my review of The Morbids because it had such an impact on me. It made me admire the self-mastery of people who suffer this debilitating condition by developing powerful coping strategies.
Momina Masood in 'We Still Went to the Movies' writes about the importance of going to the cinema as a distraction and healing—and how this became a covert activity when religious extremists took over in Pakistan. Going to the movies became something more than seeking entertainment because it was considered un-Islamic and cinemas were often summarily shut down or burnt and destroyed.
Rowena Macdonald's essay is a brilliant piece using format to make a powerful point. In the left hand column the reader sees the anxiety and panic; in the right hand column we see the facade of 'reality.'
To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2021/03/14/t...
The book is not one that can be read in a sustained way. I've read it over successive afternoons, just one or sometimes two essays at a time. It takes time to reflect on, and absorb the story that the contributors have to tell. Some stand out more than others: I mentioned 'We Awful, Awful' by Ian Boutlon in my review of The Morbids because it had such an impact on me. It made me admire the self-mastery of people who suffer this debilitating condition by developing powerful coping strategies.
Avoid the words, he said. And repetition. No Philip Glass. No Terry Riley. Earworms lie in wait under all harmony. Oddly, the more mad-sounding the music, the harder it is for it to attack you when you break. So embrace discord. Stockhausen. Soft Machine. There's nothing your head can do to make them sound worse. (p.153)
Momina Masood in 'We Still Went to the Movies' writes about the importance of going to the cinema as a distraction and healing—and how this became a covert activity when religious extremists took over in Pakistan. Going to the movies became something more than seeking entertainment because it was considered un-Islamic and cinemas were often summarily shut down or burnt and destroyed.
[General] Zia had banned all types of collectivisation. Cinema was the only space where you could be part of a public, without it being a jalsa (protest rally) or a janaza (funeral.) (p.236)
Rowena Macdonald's essay is a brilliant piece using format to make a powerful point. In the left hand column the reader sees the anxiety and panic; in the right hand column we see the facade of 'reality.'
To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2021/03/14/t...
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews