My life had been suspended, as though I had inhaled and was still waiting to let out that gasp of breath. I set aside my dreams for a future time when life might be normal again. But that night, on my mother's birthday, as I sat and watched the sky turn from blue to black, I wondered for the first time if it ever would ...
There were holes in Sam Mills's life when she was growing up - times when her dad was just absent, for reasons she didn't understand. As she grew older, she began to make up stories about the periods when he wasn't around: that he'd been abducted, spirited away and held captive by a mysterious tribe who lived at the bottom of the garden. The truth - that he suffers from a rare form of paranoid schizophrenia, and was hospitalised intermittently - slowly came into focus, and that focus became pin-sharp in 2012, when Sam's mother died and Sam was left as his primary carer.
In this powerful, poignant memoir Sam triangulates her own experience with the stories of two other carers, one she admires and one, on some days, she fears she might become: Leonard Woolf, husband to Virginia and F Scott Fitzgerald, husband to Zelda, and a man whose personality made him ill-equipped - in a great many ways - to be a carer for his troubled wife.
A mesmerising blend of literary biography and memoir The Fragments of My Father is a compelling and moving account of what it means to be a carer.
Samantha 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.
(3.5) One in eight people in the UK cares for an ill or disabled relative. Sam Mills has been a carer for a parent – not once, but twice. The first time was for her mother, who had kidney cancer that spread to her lungs and died one Christmas. A few years later, Mills’s father, Edward, who has paranoid schizophrenia, started having catatonic episodes, as with the incident she opens her memoir on. In 2016, on what would have been her mother’s 70th birthday, Edward locked himself in the toilet of the family home in Surrey. Her brother had to break in with a screwdriver and ambulance staff took him away to a hospital. It wasn’t the first time he’d been institutionalized for a mental health crisis, nor would it be the last. It was always excruciating to decide whether he was better off at home or sectioned on a ward.
Mills darts between past and present as she contrasts her father’s recent condition with earlier points in their family life. She only learned about his diagnosis from her mother when, at age 14, she saw him walk down the stairs naked and then cry when he burned the chips. While schizophrenia can have a genetic element, relatives of a schizophrenic are also more likely to be high achievers. So, although Mills went through a time of suicidal depression as a teenager, meditation got her through and she exhibits more of the positive traits: An author of six books and founder of the small press Dodo Ink, she is creative and driven. Still, being her father’s full-time carer with few breaks often leaves her exhausted and overwhelmed.
The book’s two main points of reference are Leonard Woolf and F. Scott Fitzgerald, who cared for mentally ill wives and had to make difficult choices about their treatment and housing. In a nutshell, Mills concludes that Woolf was a good carer while Fitzgerald was a terrible one. Leonard was excused World War I service due to his nervous exhaustion from being a carer, and he gave up on the idea of children when doctors said that motherhood would be disastrous for Virginia. Virginia herself absolved Leonard in her suicide note, reassuring him that no couple could have been happier and that no one could have looked after her better. Scott, on the other hand, couldn’t cope with Zelda’s unpredictable behaviour – not least because of his own alcoholism – so had her locked up in expensive yet neglectful institutions and censored her work when it came too close to overlapping with his own plots.
The Fragments of My Father brings together a lot of my favourite topics to read about: grief, physical and mental illness, and literary biography. It had already been on my wish list since I first heard about it last year, but I’m glad the Barbellion Prize shortlisting gave me a chance to read it. It helps to have an interest in the Fitzgeralds and Woolfs – though in my case I had read a bit too extensively about them for this strand to feel fully fresh. (I also had a ‘TMI’ response to some revelations about the author’s relationships and sex life.)
Ultimately, I most appreciated the information on being a carer, including the mental burden and the financial and social resources available. (Although there is a government allowance for carers, Mills wasn’t eligible because of her freelance earnings, so she had to apply for Society of Authors grants instead.) With caring so common, especially for women, we need a safety net in place for all whose earnings and relationships will be affected by family duties. I read this with an eye to the future, knowing there’s every possibility that one day I’ll be a carer for a parent(-in-law) or spouse.
“had I ever made a conscious choice? Caring felt like something that was happening to me, as though my father’s illness had been an eruption that had flowed like lava over my life. … I can’t think of any other job where someone defines your role by conferring its title on you, as though they are holding out a mould that you must fill.”
“caring is rarely simple because its nature is not static. It creates routines, crafts the days into set shapes, lulls you into states of false security, and then mutates, slaps you with fresh challenges, leaves you lost just when you feel you have gained wisdom.”
This was absolutely beautiful. A memoir centring the authors experiences of being a carer for her mother when she had cancer and her father as he experienced catatonic episodes and schizophrenia.
So many interesting themes and issues were discussed throughout this personal piece - the author's opinion and changing relationship with the title 'carer' and what notions it perpetuates, how the responsibility of caring for someone can flood your entire life and being, ultimately impacting your own health, difficulties with maintaining romantic relationships whilst being a carer and the scarce and continuously dwindling resources that carers have access to.
Experiences of mental health and care between Virginia & Leonard Woolf and Zelda & F. Scott Fitzgerald were also interspersed within this memoir, with the author drawing similarities and differences between the two couples and her own experience of caring, how each approach may have been a product of society and habits at that period. Through this we also get an insight to people's treatment whilst in asylums. Hearing such depth about these people was both fascinating and saddening.
This was a beautiful audiobook experience and I highly recommend. So many gorgeous quotes. For people who don't have experiences of being a carer or being close to someone who is - this provides great insight and for those who do have experience in caring, this may provide solace in knowing these challenges and moments of joy are seen almost universally in care.
The title of Sam Mills memoir The Fragments of my Father can be taken in a couple of ways: The book itself is is in fragments. By this I mean that the timeline of events is not in chronological order. Rather past and present collide in different paragraphs. The other meaning of the title can allude to Sam Mills, father who was diagnosed with schizophrenia and, thus became a fragmented person.
When Sam Mills father was diagnosed and her mother had cancer, she turned from daughter to carer and it is this one more dominant aspects of the book, especially the problems that one encounters when looking after people. How far can one go? should one care for oneself? can one be a good or bad carer?
To answer these question Sam Mills looks at two carers in history: Leonard Woolf and Scott F. Fitzgerald, who, like Sam, had people close to them who suffered from mental illnesses. In the case of Leonard Woolf, when his wife Virginia was going through mental problems, he tried his best to accommodate her, even when it meant that he suffered. Scott F. Fitzgerald was the opposite, when his wife Zelda was going through her illnesses, he could not cope and ended up keeping her in a sanitorium.
Both case studies are interesting examples of the strain a carer experiences. Throughout the novel Sam Mills documents the effects being a carer had on her own life, from being a writer, setting up an indie press to relationships. Being a carer is not just looking after a person but devoting a part of oneself to the individual and this is brought out excellently.
As I stated the book is a fragmented memoir. There are passages about Sam Mills childhood; her love of books, and various happenings, one of my favourite pieces is the author having lunch with Will Self due to a novel she wrote which featured him. However as the book is about Sam Mills’ father’s mental illness, all life events are influenced by it.
Despite the non chronological timeline, the book flows and will quickly ensnare the reader. Sam Mills also manages to cover a variety of topics and keep them all hanging together and interlinking them. Although the subject is tragic, the reader will never feel manipulated, There are deaths and uncomfortable moments but Sam Mills manages to pull this off in a clever way. This is a heart warming book with lighter moments to counteract the heavier sections.
An aspect I also appreciated is that I learnt about schizophrenia, contrary to what is presented in cinema, schizophrenia is not one person fighting different personalities, such as Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (to use an example in the book) but rather someone who sees the world differently, in the book it is compared to someone being in a permanent acid trip. As the illness itself has many manifestations it is interesting to the different types of schizophrenics and how they behave.
Considering that that I rarely read non-fiction or that I lose interest in a couple of pages, it takes a very special one to keep me stuck in my chair. The Fragments of my Father did that. If you read one memoir this year – then definitely make it this. When a memoir manages to change one’s perspectives about mental health, link many topics deftly AND create a book that’s so readable then it is a crime (and I say this without any hint of hyperbole) to miss out on The Fragments of my Father.
"Madness tears a person’s character into two, their sane self and their insane one, and it can be hard to make the join, perceive them as a whole." In this moving, beautifully written memoir, Sam Mills manages to do just this: in spite of the huge difficulties she goes through in caring for him, she shows her father as a whole human being, not a man defined only by schizophrenia, but one defined by his relationship to her. I was thrilled to be sent a pre-publication day copy of this. I would recommend this wonderful, generous-spirited book, so full of love and hope, to anyone who is looking after sick relatives and needs to know that they are not alone. There were many passages which moved me to tears, but none perhaps so much as the one where Sam describes not being able to call her dad while she was away on a much-needed holiday, only to come home and find him very distressed. She realises then how much he needs her, and she steps up to this caring role, in spite of a being a young woman with a relationship to nurture, a business to run and deadlines to meet. “In our modern era, we appear to have the freedom to make a conscious choice as to whether or not we care for our mothers and fathers”, Sam writes. She goes on to challenge this – to argue that, in her case at least, there was no “choice”. She loves her father, therefore she cares for him. I will be buying this book for all my friends (and sadly there are too many of them) who are going through similar heartbreaking circumstances.
As an ex-carer (my parent died) I really appreciated this book. Mills' insight into the caring 'journey' - the joy, the guilt, the exhaustion, the frustration and oh so much more. Of what it does to the carer, of what the system offers (or doesn't, in this case in the UK, but similar around the world I'm sure - ie it is not 'valued' as it is not seen as 'productive' by capitalist society). It must have taken a lot out of her to write this, her descriptions are spot on, and I related to them. Some other reviewers were critical of her romantic decisions - um HELLO did you not read what she was going through? Seriously. I also enjoyed looking into two men's life as carers - why DOES it 'always' have to be women? Zelda Fitzgerald & Virginia Woolf. I'm curious to reread Zelda's work after what I read had been done 'to' her - and the different mores of the time (we have changed, a little, thank god!). I also liked the hard cover version, lovely paper. A little thing perhaps, but it all added to reading experience. This book has been on my to read pile for a while, I started, left it for others and returned, that was only because a hard read, because it brought up feelings from my time as a carer - with no family to support me & everything my decision and responsibility, I 'did the job' but it mentally and physically stripped me. That was hard to resist, as it's been several years now, but gosh, when I think about it....I couldn't have left my dad alone, but it was at a big cost to me (and I don't mean just finically) I lost myself.
I got to the end at page 353 finally after many weeks. It was a struggle, but despite some persistent on-going criticisms such as “oh why on earth did she do that”, it has been worth it to stick to the conclusion. There is another book with the same title apparently, written by one Antonio Dias (2012). One of Sam Mills’ memorable flings was with an Antonio (but oh why did she do that?) possibly around 2011. The book goes back and forth in time quite a bit. Her mother died in 2012. Spoiler alert, Sam promised her mother she’d look after Dad. Mothers! So for the next umpteen years Sam’s love life stays pretty much in tatters. There is the perennial person referred to as “Z” (oh why did she start on that one, doomed from the start), then there is Thom, a sensible chap who lives in faraway Manchester (Dad lives in the family home in London suburb). One gripe is that there is next to no information about Mr Mills’ background, his father? his mother? Did Sam never know her grandparents? It’s a memoir, so it’s all about the author obviously. The subject of schizophrenia comes up every now and then, and Sam has some interesting takes on the subject. There’s quite a bit about the history of caring which is enlightening. The future, obviously if Sam had her way, the state would be a lot more generous to families who end up caring for incapacitated members.
Shortlisted for the Barbellion Prize, this is an interesting account of Sam Mills' life with a schizophrenic parent, Edward, who suffers bouts of catatonia... life-threatening if he is not looked after. It is about her life, that of her mother (who also needed care prior to her death from cancer some years before the period which is the main focus of the book), her father's life... and she places these experiences against two famous couples affected by mental illness: Leonard and Virginia Woolf, Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald and some history of 'caring' generally.
It's such a compassionate and respectful book, and provides important insights. For any who may have missed the awful dilemmas of treatment and disorder, there is plenty here. She's a freelance writer, trying to set up a publishing house, flexible work she can do 'anywhere' but she shows how difficult it is to concentrate, what it does to creativity. There are gaps and puzzles (it feels like a lot of holidays abroad for one so skint and involved in care but it seems that was the pattern of her mother too, perhaps just what the two of them most need in order to cope if they cannot have all that they would without their caring roles) There's an odd comment about a nameless relative who, it is implied is out of touch... because they only visit once a week, and her love life is not a pretty picture, with several relationships which would have been better avoided (but taken up for understandable reasons) and one which was neglected and let go. I could have done without the titivation of 'Z' the prize-winning writer (as I suspect could she) although some of the complications and reflections do shed a useful light on her central topic.
There is a lovely account near the end of the book (and Edward is still alive and as usual at the close, there is no artificial unrealistic 'resolution') I feel it is an occasion when she is braver than some other times. She's away and a friend of hers needs somewhere to stay and it is agreed for him to go to her father's. Her father, despite his depiction as a man who must have strict routine, is a kind and considerate host. It turns out that her friend's needs were rather more than temporary accommodation, and thus the benefits of this kindness even greater.
A brilliant book looking deeper at the sacrifices made to be a carer for someone unable to care for themselves. As someone with a history of mental health troubles, it is interesting to lift the veil and see what those who were responsible for me during those times went through. It highlights a lot of the struggle of the carer, interceeded with interesting historical facts of mental illness and the role of the carer, as well as retelling other carer tales from Leonard Woolf and F Scott Fitzgerald, and how Mills fits into this. The only reason I did not give this book 5 stars (I would give 4.5 if possible), is the disjointed nature of the writing. It often feels like the story tumbles around like Mills needed to cathartically release all she could in this novel; the years of hurt, isolation and struggle. It is interesting to note, however, the disjointed nature of the writing could also be a representation of the disjointed thinking of her father and his schizophrenia. This rapid-fire, quick changing and frank discussion held within the book does not make the read unenjoyable however; as someone with a penchant for fantasy fiction, I found myself listening to the audiobook in almost one day. 4.5 stars
In recent years I have come to appreciate more memoirs of any kind, as long as I find them honest and moving, one way or another.
Sam Mills' The Fragments of My Father deals with a very sensitive subject, and one which is not extensively touched upon in literature : schizophrenia and mental illness. She tackles it with huge compassion and empathy, as she changes from full-time writer to practically a carer to her father who suffers from catatonic episodes. Mills compares (very intelligently) her personal situation of care to two famous literary couples - Leonard & Virginia Woolf + F. Scott & Zelda Fitzgerald - where in both cases the females end up (in various circumstances) in mental institutions. In the former there was genuine love and well-being at the forefront of his actions and the aim of protecting Virginia's genius at all costs. In the latter Scott was determined to exercise control and a position of power through excessive cruelty.
Mills offers a lot of insight into the plight of carers in the 21st century, and it is a very touching memoir, more so if read during the festivities.
Having been a carer for most of my adult life I was interested to read this book. I could empathise with Sam Mills quite a lot on how she felt but she was lucky to get a break now and then and travel abroad because many of us never get that chance. She was also fortunate she did not have children to care for as well as an elderly parent.
I did not enjoy the parts about Leonard Woolf and F Scott Fitzgerald although I can understand that as a writer she is trying to compare her lot to theirs. I have to be honest and say I skimmed through most of these parts.
I have read many far more engaging and interesting accounts of being a carer but I was just beginning to warm to her when the book ended abruptly and the 50+ following pages were taken up with bibliography, acknowledgements, notes etc.
This book has been such an encouragement. It's been inspiring with the positive light it shines on kindness, a trait all too underappreciated in a society guided by profit. The author is so compassionate in showing the changes of an overwhelming responsibility for one's family. She has to take care of her parents; she struggles but still manages to make ends meet and show them love, sacrificing so much in the process. Yet, she remains focused on being grateful, and emanates an inner strength more of us need. Also, I loved to see how she took solace in literature and in the lives of other authors. The short biographies of Woolf and Fitzgerald worked as a well thought counterpoint.
Really insightful book, thoroughly well researched but deeply personal. Very clever how the author related her experiences as a carer to renounced literary figures from the past and their varying experiences and abilities as carers, and I found it helpful and interesting where she raised awareness of some important issues of caring in the U.K. and philosophical questions around caring, without trying to sell any particular political standpoint. Books like these really help with stigma of schizophrenia and help humanise the experience both of the people affected and those around affected. Hopefully the beginning of more nuanced stories of schizophrenia.
Such an amazing book. It's tender, respectful and arresting.
On the backdrop of two literary women who faced their own battles with mental health (at a time when sufferers were swept under the rug, for the sake of British stoicism), the author of brilliant YA novels BLACKOUT and A NICER WAY TO DIE (not to mention the madness that is THE QUIDDITY OF WILL SELF) opens up about her life as her father's carer and how she balances her own career.
this book moves between an account of the author’s role as Carer for her father and a more academic account of famous authors such as Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald and Virginia and Leonard Wolf who had caring - Carer relationships. Although the academic accounts were interesting I found the movement between the two a little jarring. Perhaps it was necessary to fill out the book-length project, but I think I might have preferred it to be a more personal account. But it does add perspective to the author’s experience. The writing is fluid and persuasive.