Sunday, August 24, 2014
Stigma, stigmata: let's get rid of it, shall we?
Robin Williams and the talk of the 'stigma' of mental illness
The death of the actor has occasioned many ill-advised opinions
Elizabeth Day
The Observer, Sunday 24 August 2014
Jump to comments (195)
Flowers are placed in memory of Robin Williams on his Walk of Fame star in the Hollywood district of Los Angeles. Photograph: Kevork Djansezian/AP
When a much-loved celebrity dies in a sudden and shocking way, the immediate human desire is to find an explanation. We want to rationalise brutality. We need the reassurance. We kid ourselves that knowledge is a bulwark against falling into the same situation. If we know what caused it, the flawed reasoning goes, we can prevent it from happening again.
So it was that, in the days after Robin Williams took his life, media outlets were filled with speculation. Was it the threat of bankruptcy or career worries or a lifelong battle with addiction or a recent diagnosis of Parkinson's that made him confront the meaning of his existence?
The questions were futile. Depression is not a logical disease, a matter of straightforward cause and effect. Suicide is a devastating and complex beast. In truth, the only person capable of telling you why they did what they did has fatally absented themselves from the discussion. And sometimes, even they would be unable to pinpoint a reason.
But alongside the hopeless search for motivation, something else emerged in the aftermath of Williams's death. There was a lot of chatter surrounding the "stigma" of mental illness. Social networks were clogged with people urging others to seek help for their depression and not to feel "stigmatised" by their illness. There were magazine articles about mental health issues being "taboo" and how we must counteract this state of affairs by talking about our own struggles.
All of which is entirely admirable, but is there a stigma? The very fact that the internet was abuzz with people sharing their own stories of depression and encouraging others to do the same suggests that, thankfully, we live in a more accepting age. Most of us will know of close friends or family members who have dealt with depression. Some of us, myself included, will have experienced a form of it ourselves. Celebrities, too, have spoken out, fostering this culture of greater acceptance. The actresses Carrie Fisher and Catherine Zeta-Jones have talked about their bipolar disorders. Stephen Fry has written movingly about his depression.
As a result, I don't view mental illness as a scary, strange thing or as a form of weakness. Do you? I doubt it. And because we are talking more openly than we might have done in the past, many employers have become more attuned to dealing with it. If a workplace failed in this duty of care, there would, rightly, be outrage.
Stigma exists in other places – in the long-term care of the elderly, for instance: that unglamorous world of colostomy bags and daily drudgery we don't like to talk about because we're scared it lies ahead of us all.
There is still work to be done. An applicant for a job might feel less inclined to mention a history of mental health problems than, say, a battle with cancer. That is wrong. But bandying around the term "stigma" in reference to mental illness is unhelpful. It does precisely the opposite of what it intends to do: it means we're actually more likely to think of it in those terms because of the repeated association. Can't we just ditch the word?
What does "stigma" mean, anyway? The original definition has its roots in a Greek term that referred to the marking – by cutting or burning – of socially undesirable types such as criminals, slaves or traitors. Later, the Canadian sociologist Erving Goffman defined social stigma as "the phenomenon whereby an individual with an attribute which is deeply discredited by his/her society is rejected as a result of the attribute".
Does that apply to mental health? Increasingly, I would say the answer is no. Yes, we should keep talking about depression. Yes, we should be profoundly sensitive to those who grapple with it every day of their lives. But let's stop saying there's a stigma attached to it.
(Emphasis mine. This article echoes one of my previous posts, expressing the belief that juxtaposing the ugly, scary word "stigma" with ANY condition "marks" it in a way which reminds me of the plural of stigma - stigmata. No more bleeding wounds, eh? No more creepy supernatural manifestations, "demons" (a word people casually use to describe mental illness without ONCE stopping to think exactly what they are saying), or any of the crap that still hangs around human pain. Let's get real, use some sensible and sensitive language, and get on the path to real healing.)
Order The Glass Character from:
Thistledown Press
Amazon.com
Chapters/Indigo.ca
Lots and lots of mistakes
I normally delete or at least warehouse posts like this, because I think they're too depressing and someone might actually read them. Maybe I'll delete or warehouse this one, too. I was rifling through some files, paper files I mean, ones written on paper and filed in file folders, and I realized how much of my work had come to absolutely nothing. Almost every file represented a failed attempt - a failed novel, a failed first draft of a novel, a failed attempt to get an agent (lots of those!), and so many rejections, some of them quite snide, that it made my head spin. And squeaking through, the smallest fraction of so-called successes which ended up being (surprise!) miserable failures after all.
I tell myself, OK, it's not in the cards. Don't bash your head. But I have set myself up this way. "Something" does not want me to succeed, in spite of a monster amount of effort over 30-some years. Everyone, if this is pointed out, points at me. "I" am the reason. I do this "wrong", I am "too negative" or just have the wrong energy.
I hate those pieces that say, oh, you have to embrace failure! Without failure you can have no success! There's no such thing as a mistake! OK then: having an affair; driving drunk; hitting your kid - these are extreme examples, but they're mistakes, aren't they? Are they really "okay" and a good thing for learning? How about the minor stuff, losing a file, losing a client, losing your mind? Do you really think for one minute you will be taken back at work after a mental breakdown of any sort? Do you? That's not what I heard. No, not at all.
Make mistakes, yes, sure. But don't be me. And keep in mind that no one "has your back".
Friday, August 22, 2014
Some cats know
The old prospector’s nose for gold
the sailor who can read the sky
the gambler’s sense of when to fold
the trick to making apple pie
these mysteries one cannot explain
this old black art
so queer and quaint
like making love, or making rain
either you got it,
or
you
ain’t
Some cats know
you can tell by the touchin’
they don't come on huffin’ and puffin’
and grabbin’ and clutchin’
some cats know
how to take it nice and slow
but if a cat don't know
a cat don't know
some cats know
how to stir up the feelin’
they keep foolin’ round
till they're half way to the ceilin’
some cats know
how to make the honey flow
but if a cat don't know
a cat don't know
some cats know just where it's at
they are not like some others
I would ruther one like that
If I had my druthers
Some cats know
how to play nice and pretty
nice and soft
and soon you're off to
good time city
some cats know
how to take it nice and slow
but if a cat don't know
a cat don't know
he just
don't
know
(Lyrics by Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller)
Order The Glass Character from:
Thistledown Press
Amazon.com
Chapters/Indigo.ca
For Robert Osborne fans only
Maybe you don't realize this, or you don't realize it YET, but you will soon, because I am about to tell you, I love love love Robert Osborne, the affable, infinitely knowledgeable host on Turner Classic Movies. TCM has revolutionized my life, in a way. Well, sort of. On TCM I discovered the movies of Harold Lloyd - they are great champions of Lloyd and have interviewed his granddaughter Suzanne (CEO of Harold Lloyd Entertainment) many times. The novel I'm so desperately trying to get someone to read (The Glass Character - catchy title, eh?) could not have been written without this comprehensive exposure and the background information provided by Osborne (and in fact, I often enjoy his commentary more than the movies themselves. I mean other people's movies, not Harold's. Never Harold's.)
But before his present incarnation as iconic TV host and movie afficionado, Robert Osborne had another life as Bob Osborne. He showed up in all sorts of movies and TV, but the best clip I could find was from the first episode of The Beverly Hillbillies, in which he plays Mr. Drysdale's assistant.
And a cute one. It's that blink. I don't know why it is, but it drives me crazy.
His closeups have an almost Alan Ladd quality, a leading-man thing, but really, he was born in the wrong decade. He has the movie star looks of someone out of the 1940s. You can see him playing Bette Davis' arm candy at some society soiree. Almost too good-looking, but not aware of it. A dynamite combination.
Blink.
BLINK.
Osborne does all sorts of interviews at film festivals with ancient stars who are about to kick off. The most alarming was the Mickey Rooney interview, in which Rooney reached so far out of his personal space bubble that he punctured it, and Osborne's too. He later said it was all he could to stay in his seat.
It was so lovely to see Gene Wilder again. Old and frail, his face softened by age, he was still very much himself. Probably my first exposure to him was that old Alka-Seltzer commercial about "the blahs", with the animation of the guy whose head was floating around the room.
What I notice, while watching these gifs which have no sound, are the closeup shots where neither of them is saying anything. Can you guess why? THEY ARE LISTENING. I think these guys are of the last generation that was taught to do that, to assume the other person might have something important to say, or maybe just "something". The important thing WASN'T to impress people or get your own points in.
Alan Ladd
Thursday, August 21, 2014
One of the strangest things I've ever seen
Now here's a strange thing, almost an eerie thing. Not long after Robin Williams' tragic suicide, I found this lovely picture of him with Terry Gilliam, the director of The Fisher King. I noticed how Williams seemed to be snuggled into his shoulder like a little kitten, almost shockingly vulnerable.
But last night, on finding out Billly Crystal will be hosting a tribute to Williams at the Emmy Awards, I found this. Of course I immediately saw the remarkably similar position, the arm around the shoulder, the closed eyes and bowed head and vulnerability. It's uncanny.
But then I noticed how similar Gilliam and Crystal looked, with the same smile, protective, warm. Really, it's the same expression.
I had to try an experiment by flipping the photos.
Now, the other way.
For all the world, it's as if the've been told to pose that way. It just seems so unlikely that it would happen spontaneously. Really, the biggest difference is Gilliam's height. If Crystal were six inches taller, it would be so similar as to be downright scary.
So what does it mean? Humans seek to find meaning in all things, whether there is a connection there or not. The more you study these photos, the eerier it gets - not just the closed eyes, tilt of the head and facial expression, which is close to exact, but the hand under the chin in a sort of gentle caress. Gilliam and Crystal have their heads in the exact same position and wear a remarkably similar expression.
These photos were random, I didn't seek them out. I just noticed them. I don't know how many others there are. I noticed Williams has dropped off the radar in just over a week, a typical response to a suicide. We just don't want to believe it happened. I don't want to believe it happened. It's something that is almost beyond imagining.
POST-BLOG REVELATION. I just keep finding these! Now, more than a month later, I find a photo of Robin with his close friend Billy Connelly, and look at it.
.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)