What do you think?
Rate this book
Asylum: Inside the Closed World of State Mental Hospitals
For more than half the nation's history, vast mental hospitals were a prominent feature of the American landscape. From the mid-nineteenth century to the early twentieth, over 250 institutions for the insane were built throughout the United States; by 1948, they housed more than a half million patients.
The blueprint for these hospitals was set by Pennsylvania hospital superintendent Thomas Story Kirkbride: a central administration building flanked symmetrically by pavilions and surrounded by lavish grounds with pastoral vistas.
Kirkbride and others believed that well-designed buildings and grounds, a peaceful environment, a regimen of fresh air, and places for work, exercise, and cultural activities would heal mental illness. But in the second half of the twentieth century, after the introduction of psychotropic drugs and policy shifts toward community-based care, patient populations declined dramatically, leaving many of these beautiful, massive buildings--and the patients who lived in them--neglected and abandoned.
Architect and photographer Christopher Payne spent six years documenting the decay of state mental hospitals like these, visiting seventy institutions in thirty states. Through his lens we see splendid, palatial exteriors (some designed by such prominent architects as H. H. Richardson and Samuel Sloan) and crumbling interiors--chairs stacked against walls with peeling paint in a grand hallway; brightly colored toothbrushes still hanging on a rack; stacks of suitcases, never packed for the trip home.
Accompanying Payne's striking and powerful photographs is an essay by Oliver Sacks (who described his own experience working at a state mental hospital in his book Awakenings). Sacks pays tribute to Payne's photographs and to the lives once lived in these places, "where one could be both mad and safe."
209 pages, Hardcover
First published September 4, 2009
20 people are currently reading
4353 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 129 reviews
November 5, 2013
from the book:
Patient poem on a basement wall,
Augusta State Hospital, Augusta, Maine
" If my heart could speak,
I'm sure it would say, I wish I were
someplace else Today.
Among these books, a great amount of knowledge there must be,
but what good is Knowledge where others carry the keys.
Through the last ten years many improvements have been made,
but the final words seem to say, don't forget, my good man you're still
a patient here today. Intelligence,ability,and knowledge surely will
never last,
Why, all we want to look at, my good man, is your past. I wish that
some of these people, who write the book and make the rules,
could spend just a few years
walking in our shoes. "
Patient poem on a basement wall,
Augusta State Hospital, Augusta, Maine
" If my heart could speak,
I'm sure it would say, I wish I were
someplace else Today.
Among these books, a great amount of knowledge there must be,
but what good is Knowledge where others carry the keys.
Through the last ten years many improvements have been made,
but the final words seem to say, don't forget, my good man you're still
a patient here today. Intelligence,ability,and knowledge surely will
never last,
Why, all we want to look at, my good man, is your past. I wish that
some of these people, who write the book and make the rules,
could spend just a few years
walking in our shoes. "
August 2, 2012
I was gobsmacked by this book! I don’t know what I was expecting when I requested it, but when it arrived I discovered a volume filled with beautiful photographs of crumbling asylums. It is a form of photojournalism that tells of the majesty of asylums: their architecture, interiors, landscaping and purpose. As well it tells the story of their decline and decay: the shattered windows, peeling paint, abandoned suitcases and trees growing up through cement. The pictures themselves are stunning and the story they paint is equally moving. Coupled with an introductory essay by Oliver Sacks who clearly loves these facilities and what they represent for our society, the result is a marvelous book.
October 22, 2009
Beautiful and eerie collection of photographs of (mostly) abandoned state mental hospitals. There are two informative essays by the photographer, Christopher Payne, and one by neurologist and author Oliver Sacks, but in many ways the images speak for themselves. Payne highlights the grand, imposing edifices of these decaying institutions, their grandeur making it possible to understand how a mental asylum was once considered a great coup for a community. But it’s impossible not to also see the dashed dreams hidden away behind these crumbling walls. The fact that the noble ideals with which these places were built disintegrated over time manifests itself with a stunning literalness in swirls of peeling paint, moldering ceilings, and leaf-strewn breezeways. Similarly, the people society has left behind are evoked with the simple image of an abandoned rack of multicolored patient toothbrushes.
Aspects of this book are creepy—it brought to mind several horror movies (notably Session 9) that I instantly wanted to rewatch once I finished reading. But it’s surprisingly poignant, too. In his closing essay, Payne talks about witnessing the destruction of Danvers State Hospital in Massachusetts, the exterior of which was a familiar sight throughout his childhood. It was closed in the early ’90s and recently demolished to build condominiums. It’s easy to see why Payne views this as a tragedy against architecture and history, and his photos of Danvers being gutted are some of the most wrenching in the book. There was something here—something that mattered once—and now it’s gone forever.
Aspects of this book are creepy—it brought to mind several horror movies (notably Session 9) that I instantly wanted to rewatch once I finished reading. But it’s surprisingly poignant, too. In his closing essay, Payne talks about witnessing the destruction of Danvers State Hospital in Massachusetts, the exterior of which was a familiar sight throughout his childhood. It was closed in the early ’90s and recently demolished to build condominiums. It’s easy to see why Payne views this as a tragedy against architecture and history, and his photos of Danvers being gutted are some of the most wrenching in the book. There was something here—something that mattered once—and now it’s gone forever.
February 3, 2022
Depressing as hell. The photographs tell it all. Excellent photojournalism.
October 27, 2013
Haunting and depressing. Odd that so many of the buildings look just like my high school alma mater, which was built in 1891. Guess that was the golden age of nuthouse institutional gothic brick architecture.
Read
October 15, 2017Pictures paint a thousand words! The photographs in this book are skillfully rendered and carefully chosen. This is a large table-top book. Don't expect photos of abuse and neglect, but some interesting history; architecture mostly, but also the evolution of asylums, the sad results of the loss of the original caring ideals, and amazing pictures of majestic buildings, and haunting interiors. Be sure to read the afterword, as well as the introduction. I learned things I never knew.
August 31, 2024
Incredibly beautiful and haunting photos of antiquated and dilapidated mental health institutions. Kinda spooky. It really makes you think about the people who lived and worked there... who one day put down their equipment or whatever and never picked it up again. Though, I think anyplace that was abandoned and left to squalor would feel spooky.
December 9, 2017
Not what I was expecting. Thought this would have been perhaps photos of things that we we're not allowed to normally see or of black and white photos of people who resided there -rather, it was a coffee table style book with pictures of the outside of run down buildings and crumbling insides. Amazing photographs, just not what the synopsis implied.
May 6, 2022
Con un prólogo de Oliver Sacks muy interesante en que habla del cambio en la visión de las instituciones mentales desde una internación prolongada de los internos, quienes además trabajaban y mantenían el lugar a estancias cortas y medicación constante, que trajo consecuencias muy complejas, el trabajo fotográfico de Payne es de gran belleza. Todas las imágenes de los pasillos, dormitorios y fachadas parecen de castillos góticos: esa extraña belleza de las ruinas, vemos cómo el tiempo avanza y devora salones de teatro, baños, camas, ropa, cementerios y el recuerdo de quienes alguna vez habitaron estos lugares.
October 16, 2009
The age of the state mental hospital has come and gone. Many of these enormous edifices have already been razed to make way for developers, and the remaining structures are boarded up, or only make use of portions of their once expansive rooms and grounds – a very different picture from their heyday. A 1948 census/study done by the state of Illinois found that there were 539,000 patients in mental hospitals around the country. In the 1950s there were 33,000 mental patients on Long Island alone. Once upon a time, these institutions were communities unto themselves – many of them self-sufficient. The patients raised their own food and livestock, did their own laundry, made their own clothes, cooked their own meals, constructed their own buildings, and performed other work that gave their lives structure and meaning. In the 1970s, when patient labor was outlawed, these practices ceased, and patients who had found some peace/relief from their illnesses in work rituals were left to stare vacantly into television screens. Thousands of others were released into the streets as the institutions that had once housed them closed down due to budget cuts and the changing beliefs within the medical community.
Christopher Payne’s photographs capture what remains, and in lots of cases what no longer exists as these hospitals continue to be demolished. I was struck by how beautiful they were, how carefully planned and constructed. I had expected them to be scary, with some kind of evidence of scarring, or a reflection of the mental state of their patients. But, on the whole, they evoked a sense of peace, with their large windows that let in light, the manicured grounds surrounding them, the common areas where patients could come together (dining halls, reading areas, bowling alleys, theaters). The mental hospital campuses seemed like college campuses, the patient housing like dormitories. The piles of records, seat cushions, etc. seem to indicate that things ended quickly, and no one had the time or perhaps the energy to properly clean anything up. Patients and staff left in a hurry and no one cared about what was left behind. The disintegration was both sad and beautiful. Reading this left me with more questions than answers: What was the world like back when these institutions were in vogue? How many patients were really “insane”? And if most of them were, what caused their illnesses? Was there something about society, about the times that broke them? How does that number compare with our population of the mentally ill today? What happened to all of those people when they were released? How could all of these buildings have been abandoned? I had no idea I would be so interested in this topic when I first picked up this book. I highly recommend it, though, as food for the imagination if nothing else. This is a glimpse into a world so many of us never experienced or knew.
Christopher Payne’s photographs capture what remains, and in lots of cases what no longer exists as these hospitals continue to be demolished. I was struck by how beautiful they were, how carefully planned and constructed. I had expected them to be scary, with some kind of evidence of scarring, or a reflection of the mental state of their patients. But, on the whole, they evoked a sense of peace, with their large windows that let in light, the manicured grounds surrounding them, the common areas where patients could come together (dining halls, reading areas, bowling alleys, theaters). The mental hospital campuses seemed like college campuses, the patient housing like dormitories. The piles of records, seat cushions, etc. seem to indicate that things ended quickly, and no one had the time or perhaps the energy to properly clean anything up. Patients and staff left in a hurry and no one cared about what was left behind. The disintegration was both sad and beautiful. Reading this left me with more questions than answers: What was the world like back when these institutions were in vogue? How many patients were really “insane”? And if most of them were, what caused their illnesses? Was there something about society, about the times that broke them? How does that number compare with our population of the mentally ill today? What happened to all of those people when they were released? How could all of these buildings have been abandoned? I had no idea I would be so interested in this topic when I first picked up this book. I highly recommend it, though, as food for the imagination if nothing else. This is a glimpse into a world so many of us never experienced or knew.
August 19, 2012
Not what I was expecting! This is like a coffee table book - oversized and mostly pictures. I love Oliver Sacks and he did a great intro. I had no idea that insane asylums (later referred to as state mental hospitals) were initially symbols of pride for a community that showed their forward-thinkingness. As time advanced, however, things went downhill leaving us with the common negative stereotypes we have today.
The pictures were good - some sad, some surprising (bowling alleys and patient-run TV stations), and some creepy. Most of the hospitals are abandoned now, but some are still being used, albeit it only small portions. One thing that was surprising was the sheer size of these buildings - many were built in the Kirkbride style, named after a well-respected mental hospital administrator. The style consists of a central administration building flanked symmetrically (with each new wing stepped back from the previous, creating a V shape) with the patient housing and treatment wings. The most well-adjusted patients lived closest to the admin center (where the staff also lived), with the most severe cases housed in the outer-most wings. As to the garagntuan size of these buildings, Greystone Park State Hospital in NJ that opened in 1876 supposedly had the largest continuous foundation in the US and was surpassed only by the Pentagon some 77 years later. In later years, the Cottage Plan became more popular and consists of clusters of separate buildings, similar to a college campus.
Overall, a quick interesting read for anyone interested in the early days of psychology.
The pictures were good - some sad, some surprising (bowling alleys and patient-run TV stations), and some creepy. Most of the hospitals are abandoned now, but some are still being used, albeit it only small portions. One thing that was surprising was the sheer size of these buildings - many were built in the Kirkbride style, named after a well-respected mental hospital administrator. The style consists of a central administration building flanked symmetrically (with each new wing stepped back from the previous, creating a V shape) with the patient housing and treatment wings. The most well-adjusted patients lived closest to the admin center (where the staff also lived), with the most severe cases housed in the outer-most wings. As to the garagntuan size of these buildings, Greystone Park State Hospital in NJ that opened in 1876 supposedly had the largest continuous foundation in the US and was surpassed only by the Pentagon some 77 years later. In later years, the Cottage Plan became more popular and consists of clusters of separate buildings, similar to a college campus.
Overall, a quick interesting read for anyone interested in the early days of psychology.
June 16, 2016
Payne's photographs will trigger so many thoughts and emotions. Be prepared.
The prologue and beginning essay explain the institution of mental health treatment in the 19th and early 20th century. I was fascinated by the explanation of how the original meaning of "asylum" (to mean a refuge) was behind the use of the term to describe mental treatment facilities. The use of "moral treatment" in dealing with the mentally ill was unique to the time and required a certain type of physical environment. The state mental hospitals that were created to facilitate such treatment were a world unto themselves.
Payne has made an extensive study of the historic photographs from the hospitals. He has also traveled extensively to photograph the ruins of the facilities that have been abandoned. Oh, my. I was alternately chilled, appalled, amazed, and awe-struck. These are truly evocative photographs.
What was the effect of the state mental hospital system? Many thoughts come to mind after reading this book. The creation of drugs to treat mental illness brought about an immense change in treatment, but not in time for many people. Oh, and don't forget Walter Freeman (shudder).
A very thought provoking book.
The prologue and beginning essay explain the institution of mental health treatment in the 19th and early 20th century. I was fascinated by the explanation of how the original meaning of "asylum" (to mean a refuge) was behind the use of the term to describe mental treatment facilities. The use of "moral treatment" in dealing with the mentally ill was unique to the time and required a certain type of physical environment. The state mental hospitals that were created to facilitate such treatment were a world unto themselves.
Payne has made an extensive study of the historic photographs from the hospitals. He has also traveled extensively to photograph the ruins of the facilities that have been abandoned. Oh, my. I was alternately chilled, appalled, amazed, and awe-struck. These are truly evocative photographs.
What was the effect of the state mental hospital system? Many thoughts come to mind after reading this book. The creation of drugs to treat mental illness brought about an immense change in treatment, but not in time for many people. Oh, and don't forget Walter Freeman (shudder).
A very thought provoking book.
May 24, 2012
Overall, as splendid as one could wish for in a single-volume book of photography of abandoned mental hospitals. The Internet showcases a variety of sites devoted to explorations of such hospitals and "homes for the feeble-minded" as they were once known, and while some sites are just grainy photos of kids mucking about in an abandoned hospital, some sites are beyond amazing with photography able to rival the best professional efforts. So, to pick up a book with such photography when a wider spectrum of the same is availible for free online feels a little strange.
However, this book is very well-done and will bring you to sit down and page through it then and there, in the floor, in low light, where-ever. The effort is first-rate and to have an actual hardcopy document of this genre is very useful and necessary for historiography.
Moreover, the focus here is American state-sponsored mental hospitals which were a breed unto themselves and still exist, albeit often now in very different manifestations. The insight this book thus offers is well worth investing in both in terms of money and time.
However, this book is very well-done and will bring you to sit down and page through it then and there, in the floor, in low light, where-ever. The effort is first-rate and to have an actual hardcopy document of this genre is very useful and necessary for historiography.
Moreover, the focus here is American state-sponsored mental hospitals which were a breed unto themselves and still exist, albeit often now in very different manifestations. The insight this book thus offers is well worth investing in both in terms of money and time.
June 17, 2011
This book gives you a brief history of the evolution of state psychiatric institutions ("insane asylums") and their original purpose to provide respite and care for people with mental illnesses. As I thumbed through the brilliant photos of the former asylums in their current state; however, I was overwhelmed by the sadness and helplessness that the institutions exude. A patient poem that was written on the wall of a basement in the Augusta State Hospital in Maine is particularly poignant - and puts words to this sense of isolation that the institutions create. The patient wrote: "if my heart could speak, I'm sure it would say, I wish I were someplace else today. Among these books, a great amount of knowledge there must be, but what good is knowledge where others carry the keys... I wish that some of these people, who write the books and make the rules, could spend just a few years walking in our shoes."
March 18, 2013
Rather odd little coffee table book filled with photographs of abandoned mental hospitals. The photographs were eerie and evocative, like any photographs of ghost towns or abandoned buildings. But I just kept thinking this was all such a waste. The asylums were enormous, some with a population larger than my home town. (Blackfoot's very own State Hospital South, since it's not abandoned, didn't make it into this book.) And they had barns and fish hatcheries and their own power plants. But instead of using the buildings for anything (a hospital? transitional housing for the homeless?) the states just abandoned the buildings to rot and ruin.
December 12, 2009
This book had a vert short, but informative essay about the history of American asylums and with the amazing photos the book provides, I've come to realize how beautiful these buildings are and how important they were to the people who called them home. They are not the places I always believed them to be. This book has let me see that asylums are not scary, they are actually quite sad and it is sad to think that their incredible history lays deteriorating and has been forgotten. It is a beautiful tribute to them.
April 5, 2013
When I checked this out of library, I wasn't expecting what it is: a collection of photographs of old asylums with introductory essays by Oliver Sacks and Christopher Payne, who is the photographer and is also an architect. That's the thing about checking out ebooks. When you check out a physical book, of course you know what you're holding in your hands. I didn't realize that this was a "coffee table book" until I saw that it could only be loaded on my iPad, not my Kindle. In any event, I did enjoy it. The photos are striking, and the architectural and social history are very interesting.
October 15, 2013
Amazing and beautiful book. Contained a few photos of the Northampton State Hospital, which was (it has since been demolished) one of the most haunting and visually stunning places I have ever been. I loved visiting the abandoned hospital when I was in college, and I wish I had taken more photos and done more research while I was there in the late eighties. I'm so glad I found this book--it's destined to become one of my favorites.
Read
November 26, 2020Sometimes, I admit, I hear about so many people having anxiety, depression, schizoaffective disorder, PTSD, OCD, antisocial personality disorder, or borderline personality disorder, that I think, does everyone today have a diagnosis? Surely there must be something unhealthy about our modern way of life, with its technology and isolation, that so many people are struggling with mental health issues.
While I do in fact believe that there is much wrong with our modern way of life, Christopher Payne’s book Asylum reminds me of an alternative explanation. There are not more mental health issues today than in the past, but in the past we used to send people away, and we don’t do that anymore, or at least very rarely.
The state mental hospitals documented in Asylum were huge, and they were full. They began to be built in the 19th century as a form of “moral treatment,” which was supposed to offer a healthy environment of light, fresh air, parklike vistas, and good food, as well as stability and community. The hospitals were sources of civic pride, with many of them displayed on souvenir postcards.
Over the years, the hospitals strayed somewhat from their ideal of moral treatment, as overcrowding and budget cuts caused many to be more institutional and less homelike, but still, as Oliver Sacks, who wrote the introduction, points out, they remained literal asylums for many troubled people, that is, places of refuge and safety.
The hospitals were also like self-sufficient towns. They grew their own food, produced their own power and treated their own water, and the patients worked at all of these jobs. Patient labor was eventually outlawed in the 1970s as exploitive, and both Sacks and Payne think that was a shame, as work therapy had provided many patients with a sense of structure and accomplishment, and sometimes skills they could carry into the outside world. Afterward, patients just sat and watched TV.
Payne is an architect by training, and he specializes in photographing abandoned places. He traveled the country, visiting old state mental hospitals that now have peeling paint and gardens overgrown with ivy. In some cases the rooms are eerily empty. In others they look as if they were vacated yesterday, with patient belongings speaking of the hundreds and thousands of individuals who called these places their home.
The photos begin with exteriors: imposing multistory facades, with towers and columns. Mulitple wings stretched out and back. These are castles, solid and elegant, even if there are bars on the windows.
The lobbies are airy, with curving marble staircases and molded ceilings. The typical wards, where patient bedrooms lined the halls, demonstrated, at least in their abandoned state, a sense of regularity and calm. Locked wards had metal bars and grates. Storage rooms included a pile of patient suitcases, still containing personal belongings, and a rack of multicolored toothbrushes, each still marked with its owner’s name. Supervisors’ quarters were large, comfortable apartments. Basements and attics are filled with huge metal ductwork, and connecting tunnels.
On the grounds are barns, greenhouses, silos, slaughterhouses, workshops for making shoes, clothes, furniture. There were barber shops, bowling alleys (still with shelves of shoes), theaters, a TV studio. There were kitchens and bakeries. The patients created their own art.
And there are the medical facilities: hydrotherapy tubs, electrotherapy machines, operating rooms, straight jackets. And, as some patients spent their whole lives in these places, there are coffins, morgues, and graves, including shelves filled with copper urns containing unclaimed remains.
At the very end Payne documents the destruction of Danvers State Hospital in Danvers, Massachusetts, which he obtained access to just as it was being torn down to make way for development. He has, quite literally, captured a vanished world, and the images are haunting.
While I do in fact believe that there is much wrong with our modern way of life, Christopher Payne’s book Asylum reminds me of an alternative explanation. There are not more mental health issues today than in the past, but in the past we used to send people away, and we don’t do that anymore, or at least very rarely.
The state mental hospitals documented in Asylum were huge, and they were full. They began to be built in the 19th century as a form of “moral treatment,” which was supposed to offer a healthy environment of light, fresh air, parklike vistas, and good food, as well as stability and community. The hospitals were sources of civic pride, with many of them displayed on souvenir postcards.
Over the years, the hospitals strayed somewhat from their ideal of moral treatment, as overcrowding and budget cuts caused many to be more institutional and less homelike, but still, as Oliver Sacks, who wrote the introduction, points out, they remained literal asylums for many troubled people, that is, places of refuge and safety.
The hospitals were also like self-sufficient towns. They grew their own food, produced their own power and treated their own water, and the patients worked at all of these jobs. Patient labor was eventually outlawed in the 1970s as exploitive, and both Sacks and Payne think that was a shame, as work therapy had provided many patients with a sense of structure and accomplishment, and sometimes skills they could carry into the outside world. Afterward, patients just sat and watched TV.
Payne is an architect by training, and he specializes in photographing abandoned places. He traveled the country, visiting old state mental hospitals that now have peeling paint and gardens overgrown with ivy. In some cases the rooms are eerily empty. In others they look as if they were vacated yesterday, with patient belongings speaking of the hundreds and thousands of individuals who called these places their home.
The photos begin with exteriors: imposing multistory facades, with towers and columns. Mulitple wings stretched out and back. These are castles, solid and elegant, even if there are bars on the windows.
The lobbies are airy, with curving marble staircases and molded ceilings. The typical wards, where patient bedrooms lined the halls, demonstrated, at least in their abandoned state, a sense of regularity and calm. Locked wards had metal bars and grates. Storage rooms included a pile of patient suitcases, still containing personal belongings, and a rack of multicolored toothbrushes, each still marked with its owner’s name. Supervisors’ quarters were large, comfortable apartments. Basements and attics are filled with huge metal ductwork, and connecting tunnels.
On the grounds are barns, greenhouses, silos, slaughterhouses, workshops for making shoes, clothes, furniture. There were barber shops, bowling alleys (still with shelves of shoes), theaters, a TV studio. There were kitchens and bakeries. The patients created their own art.
And there are the medical facilities: hydrotherapy tubs, electrotherapy machines, operating rooms, straight jackets. And, as some patients spent their whole lives in these places, there are coffins, morgues, and graves, including shelves filled with copper urns containing unclaimed remains.
At the very end Payne documents the destruction of Danvers State Hospital in Danvers, Massachusetts, which he obtained access to just as it was being torn down to make way for development. He has, quite literally, captured a vanished world, and the images are haunting.
July 15, 2021
This book showcases Christopher Payne's stunning, haunting, and redolent photographs of the ruins of state abandoned mental hospitals. The exteriors still resemble solid castles, but their interiors have been destroyed by mould, plant growth, vandalism and neglect. In his forward Oliver Sacks tries to rescue state mental hospitals from their frightening disarray image. He covers thoughtfully for the days when underprivileged people with mental illness were sent to live, often permanently, in these state-run institutions. By 19th century ideals of "moral treatment", state hospitals were self-sustaining communities where patients grew their vegetables, raised their livestock, and even made their clothes and shoes. Sacks pointed out that that the hospitals were a sanctuary for the mentally ill in the era before effective treatments were available. The imposing brick structures protected the most vulnerable members of society, and, more importantly, allowed them to be themselves. Sacks writes of "spacious dayrooms" that contained "patients quietly reading or sleeping on sofas or (as was perfectly permissible) just staring into space. State hospitals were places where one could be both mad and safe, places where one's madness could be assured of finding, if not a cure, at least recognition and respect, and a vital sense of companionship and community".
Interestingly, as Payne writes in his discussion of the buildings' architecture, state hospitals were designed to be beautiful and were a source of great civic pride to their host cities. The building’s "outward similarity to the great resort hotels of the Victorian era is striking," he writes. Amenities included auditoriums and bowling alleys for the patients as well as elegant offices for doctors and administrators.
Interestingly, as Payne writes in his discussion of the buildings' architecture, state hospitals were designed to be beautiful and were a source of great civic pride to their host cities. The building’s "outward similarity to the great resort hotels of the Victorian era is striking," he writes. Amenities included auditoriums and bowling alleys for the patients as well as elegant offices for doctors and administrators.
May 25, 2022
I think every person has a macabre curiosity of what asylums were like. The essay in this book explains very well what sort of treatments were given, how people were admitted, and what the duration of their stay might have been, and how the buildings were designed and built to house the many that needed help. The photo and diagrams show the buildings, the hallways, resident rooms, treatment areas, and general areas for patients to congregate. Many of the buildings built at the turn of the century were beautiful and elaborate, almost castle like in their appearance. By the early 20th century, there were over 250 of these institutions around the country. it was hoped that well-designed buildings, a peaceful environment, time spent outdoors, areas for work, exercise, and activities would help patients recuperate or heal. Once policies and treatment changed, many of these buildings were abandoned and left to ruin. The photos have a haunting and indescribably sad atmosphere to them, but their clarity is very informative and fascinating.
February 1, 2024
This book of photographs of abandoned state mental asylums is just about the saddest I’ve read in I don’t know how long. It’s also incredibly thought provoking. These magnificent, massive buildings and their extensive acreage were larger than many towns. Now, they’ve been demolished or reduced to worthless trash.
Why, when so many people need housing, can these buildings not be saved? Well, obviously because of the cost. Then why can’t developers convert the existing buildings to condominiums and keep part of the buildings and their effects intact, perhaps in a small onsite museum? These buildings were designed by the best architects of their time, and they’re beautiful.
The combination of the anguish the mental patients were suffering and the demolition of these phenomenal buildings has really affected me. I should at least say that Payne’s photos are gorgeous and Oliver Sacks’ words are always more than worthwhile.
Why, when so many people need housing, can these buildings not be saved? Well, obviously because of the cost. Then why can’t developers convert the existing buildings to condominiums and keep part of the buildings and their effects intact, perhaps in a small onsite museum? These buildings were designed by the best architects of their time, and they’re beautiful.
The combination of the anguish the mental patients were suffering and the demolition of these phenomenal buildings has really affected me. I should at least say that Payne’s photos are gorgeous and Oliver Sacks’ words are always more than worthwhile.
February 14, 2020
So I thought for sure that this was going to be a book with a lot of creepy information. I was surprised when it was all photographs, but I was not disappointed.
I was shocked at what I saw. Some of the old Asylums were beautiful, though I think it was meant to look like that to the outsiders. I could only imagine what went on behind those walls. There was something haunting beautiful in the images. If anything, I was wishing there were more from the Elgin hospital.
I do think my favorite quote came out of this book, written on the walls of a morgue. "Let Conversation Cease. Let laughter flee. This is the place were death delights to help the living."
I did however learn that the Danever hospital in Massachusetts was the base for Arkham Asylum. This book is definitely one of those were a picture is worth a thousand words.
I was shocked at what I saw. Some of the old Asylums were beautiful, though I think it was meant to look like that to the outsiders. I could only imagine what went on behind those walls. There was something haunting beautiful in the images. If anything, I was wishing there were more from the Elgin hospital.
I do think my favorite quote came out of this book, written on the walls of a morgue. "Let Conversation Cease. Let laughter flee. This is the place were death delights to help the living."
I did however learn that the Danever hospital in Massachusetts was the base for Arkham Asylum. This book is definitely one of those were a picture is worth a thousand words.
September 14, 2021
An exceptionally interesting and informative volume about insane asylums in the United States. It is primarily a book of photography, including historical images as well as recent pictures of abandoned mental hospitals. A well-written essay by a former hospital worker provides background information. I found reading this essay and viewing the images quite good therapy. While a young girl, I read my Mum's book about the actress Frances Farmer and her involuntary commitment. Unfortunately, this experience gave me nightmares and even today I sometimes dream of being forced into a psychiatric institution and treated most brutally. I highly recommend this book to those interested in the treatment of the mentally ill, old abandoned buildings, governmental architecture, and/or outstanding photography. You will definitely not be disappointed:)
February 1, 2018
Oliver Sacks wrote the forward on Asylum. He discusses his time working in an asylum and watching the changes that led to most asylums being closed. Christopher Payne has beautiful and heartbreaking photographs of asylums all over the country. The pictures conveyed an overwhelming sadness. With so many of these asylums, which are historic buildings, being torn down, Payne felt the need to document them as much as possible.
I strongly recommend this book if you have any interest in the history of mental health in the United States. The text sections by Sacks and Payne are relatively short; the photographs comprise the majority of this book. Personally, I found myself drawn back to look at them multiple times. This will be a book that I purchase in print format.
I strongly recommend this book if you have any interest in the history of mental health in the United States. The text sections by Sacks and Payne are relatively short; the photographs comprise the majority of this book. Personally, I found myself drawn back to look at them multiple times. This will be a book that I purchase in print format.
October 24, 2019
I came across this book from the 99pi newsletter article about the Kirkbride asylums of the 19th century. It's fascinating to look at the way perceptions of asylums and mental illness have changed (for better and worse) through generations.
There is a wonderful introduction essay by Oliver Sacks that complements the photographs of these decaying landmarks. It's an incredibly thoughtful book, a meditation on place, loss and unrealized dreams. The asylums were intended to cure and stand as a refuge from general society but were so many other things too: tourist attractions, overcrowded institutions and eventually, decaying architecture. This book gives a nuanced story to places long forgotten.
There is a wonderful introduction essay by Oliver Sacks that complements the photographs of these decaying landmarks. It's an incredibly thoughtful book, a meditation on place, loss and unrealized dreams. The asylums were intended to cure and stand as a refuge from general society but were so many other things too: tourist attractions, overcrowded institutions and eventually, decaying architecture. This book gives a nuanced story to places long forgotten.
October 29, 2017
This book felt incomplete. I think I misunderstood the concept when I picked up the book, to be honest. "Inside the Closed World of" suggested it would be pictures of things we normally wouldn't be allowed to see. Or, perhaps, pictures of the past that we won't see because they no longer exist. I was expecting one of two things: creepy, paranormal-ish photos or black and white photos of times past.
What this book actually contains is pictures of closed state mental hospitals. No ghosts, but also no comparisons of yesteryear against today.
For what it was, it was okay. For what I wanted it to be, it was a disappointment.
What this book actually contains is pictures of closed state mental hospitals. No ghosts, but also no comparisons of yesteryear against today.
For what it was, it was okay. For what I wanted it to be, it was a disappointment.
April 21, 2018
This was a really beautiful and unexpected volume of photographs. Given the cover image, I was expecting that Payne would be highlighting a sinister side of mental hospitals but in reality it was quite the opposite. In the brief introduction and afterword, Oliver Sacks and Christopher Payne focus more on the civic pride felt by communities hosting grand mental hospitals and the sense of purpose that these vibrant hospitals afforded their patients. My only complaint is that the photographs left me wanting to know so much more about the lives lived in those spaces.
March 9, 2025
A coffee table book with thick, glossy pages filled with photographs from abandoned mental hospitals. It was interesting to see the different kinds of architecture, and the eerie decaying insides, frozen in time. Very sad, but fascinating. Hard to rate a book like this, I didn't enjoy it so much that I'll keep it, so maybe 3 stars?
Displaying 1 - 30 of 129 reviews