Nothing could sound more out of the ordinary than the title of Zack McDermott’s memoir: Gorilla and the Bird. Who could relate to the relationship between a looming, hairy, bipolar, gorilla of a man and a resilient, witty, selfless bird of a mother? How could an audience understand the pain and confusion that accompanies the diagnosis of bipolar disorder? Despite countless unusual life experiences, McDermott weaves the tapestry of his own life while incorporating collective threads from every reader. Absent father figure? Check. Contempt with a childhood hometown? Got it. Loving and protective mother? Roger that. Psychotic breaks and dangerous manic episodes? Eh...not so much.
The beauty of McDermott’s work is that he seamlessly combines all of these outlandish aspects into a cohesive and relatable narrative. He pours himself into his work and speaks candidly through every line as though he is having an individual conversation with each reader. He recounts the tale of his crusade for justice—his path from “lower middle class poverty” in redneck Wichita, Kansas to his fulfilling yet draining Legal Aid job in New York City. His brutal honesty unearths universal human struggles: grappling with the balance between guilt and self-pity, never knowing when is the right time to complain or give thanks, conceding to the morbid curiosity that propels us all to dig deeper into the sordid lives of others, swallowing the heart-wrenching pain of death—McDermott surmounts it all, and more. Beyond these ubiquitous themes, McDermott’s paramount testament is to his personal battle with madness: his diagnosis with bipolar disorder.
After years of representing one basket case after another in court, McDermott never imagined that he himself would be the one on the other side of the equation. When a psychotic break lands him in a New York mental hospital with a diagnosis of bipolar 1, McDermott not only fights to regain his own sanity, but battles the longstanding ignominy against those deemed to be “mentally ill.” With his mother, the Bird, ever by his side, he conquers the unpredictable ebb and flow of his disease and learns how to take back control of his life. After years of personally combating stigmas against mental illness, McDermott uses his own experiences as a platform in his electrifying memoir to give a voice to those who lack the lucidity to do so themselves.
After being blown away by McDermott’s heartening candor and vulnerability, I implore that the masses grab a copy of Gorilla and the Bird. Although laced with vulgarity, McDermott’s memoir effortlessly integrates humorous anecdotes and introspective analyses into an impactful piece of literature reflecting not only on his own life, but the ways of the world. Just as it has done for me, Gorilla and the Bird will ignite a passion within every reader and encourage them to understand the injustices in the world and fortify the movements to combat them.
The beauty of McDermott’s work is that he seamlessly combines all of these outlandish aspects into a cohesive and relatable narrative. He pours himself into his work and speaks candidly through every line as though he is having an individual conversation with each reader. He recounts the tale of his crusade for justice—his path from “lower middle class poverty” in redneck Wichita, Kansas to his fulfilling yet draining Legal Aid job in New York City. His brutal honesty unearths universal human struggles: grappling with the balance between guilt and self-pity, never knowing when is the right time to complain or give thanks, conceding to the morbid curiosity that propels us all to dig deeper into the sordid lives of others, swallowing the heart-wrenching pain of death—McDermott surmounts it all, and more. Beyond these ubiquitous themes, McDermott’s paramount testament is to his personal battle with madness: his diagnosis with bipolar disorder.
After years of representing one basket case after another in court, McDermott never imagined that he himself would be the one on the other side of the equation. When a psychotic break lands him in a New York mental hospital with a diagnosis of bipolar 1, McDermott not only fights to regain his own sanity, but battles the longstanding ignominy against those deemed to be “mentally ill.” With his mother, the Bird, ever by his side, he conquers the unpredictable ebb and flow of his disease and learns how to take back control of his life. After years of personally combating stigmas against mental illness, McDermott uses his own experiences as a platform in his electrifying memoir to give a voice to those who lack the lucidity to do so themselves.
After being blown away by McDermott’s heartening candor and vulnerability, I implore that the masses grab a copy of Gorilla and the Bird. Although laced with vulgarity, McDermott’s memoir effortlessly integrates humorous anecdotes and introspective analyses into an impactful piece of literature reflecting not only on his own life, but the ways of the world. Just as it has done for me, Gorilla and the Bird will ignite a passion within every reader and encourage them to understand the injustices in the world and fortify the movements to combat them.