In her second collection, “I Watched You Disappear” Silver’s poems invited us to accompany her on her journey through treatment, anger, despair, determination, and faith. This third collection (her penultimate) continues the author’s beautifully written illness narrative, again presenting moments of joy and of despair, and always of hope. 

Silver places her title poem, “From Nothing” (pg. 1), before Section I as an epigraph to the entire collection. “Each death I witness makes me more my own,” she writes, and although the poem sees “muscle shredded” and “bone sheared,” the poem’s last lines lift, as do many of Silver’s poems, into hope and faith: “and my molecules will vault, emerging. / From darkening days, the light will surge and flee.” Section I begins with poems of memory–“Summers in Vermont” with her family (pg. 5)–and “Coincidence,” when her sister’s child is born on the same day that Silver holds her breath and presses her “shorn chest” to an X-ray machine (pg. 7). The memories here are of family moments, both the joyful and those tinged with such “darkening days.” In “Luzerne,” she recalls when time was “consigning” her to such darkness, but two things saved her: her son, the poet’s hand touching his “damp blond hair,” and poetry, “offering itself like a pair of velvet shoes” (pg.13). Silver develops the idea of poetry as a special entity, a gift that enables her to walk forward in her journey, in “Raven” (pg. 15). She imagines a raven lifting her, holding her, and then setting her down in her home, where, she says, “dawn drove a pen into my hand.” This sense of urgency and necessity pervades all of Silver’s poems, as if she has been commanded to write her story.  

Section II begins in “Anguish” (pg. 19) a stunning poem about the loss of her first child, a daughter, but the section ends in joy with “After a Favorable PET Scan” (pg. 38). It might be difficult to find another poem by any author that offers such resounding relief and happiness. This poem, especially, speaks to how terrible every test is for those who are suffering, for those whose test results might mean more medication, more surgery, or less time to live. The celebratory release felt by patients when results bring good news must be a special kind of joy: “Oh world, I will give you all my love. / I will race like a child through the fields, / I will chase off the unkindness of ravens. / My words will grow thick as marshes, / sheltering nests in salty steams.” The poems in Section II are some of the most beautiful and moving poems in this collection. See especially “Tenebrae” (pg. 21), a plea for life; “Poise” (pg. 26), a rant against giving in to cancer; “Snow White” (pg. 30), a poem of mourning for self and others; and “Four Prayers for Forgiveness” (pg. 34-35), a poem that turns illness into beauty: “–the scattered lumps in my lungs / become church domes roofed in green mosaics, / my bones’ fissures fill in with grass-green yarn. / . . . I open my eyes and all is golden.” 

Section III seems to present a corrective reaction to the joy expressed in the final poem in Section II. The poems in this last section are short, mostly one stanza, a catalog of things that are broken, cracked, ripped, or chipped. The warning that nothing lasts forever is implied in poems such as “Partings” (pg. 44) and “Woman with a Hole in Her Stocking” (pg. 45), in “Red Never Lasts” (pg. 47) and “Autumn” (pg. 57). Yet, as always in Silver’s poems, the warning is tempered by the beauty of her words and the depth of her insight into what it is to suffer over the course of an illness that has remissions and recurrences, that sees the body changed and relationships altered. In “Ideal Speech” (pg. 58), she writes “Listen to the Holy Ghost. She blows through you, / she blows her poems right through you.” Even when days seem darkest, the ideal speech for Silver is poetry, and she is the “you” through which the Holy Ghost speaks these auricles. In the book’s final poem, “Three Roses” (pg. 59), the author once again works her spell, turning illness into beauty and despair into hope. “Where only my scar line remains, a red rose blooms. / Luscious, full, so open that if it dropped a single petal, / it would not be as lovely as it is this very moment.” And in the poem’s final lines, “Lay her hands on my chest–here, I give it to you. / Feel your palm on my skin heat and spark,” What is the “it” she gives us? I believe that Silver invites us, as Whitman did, to merge with her and to live within her words, which are her flesh, the poems she writes and then gives us to read and ponder.  

Miscellaneous 

In my annotation of Silver’s second collection, “I Watched You Disappear,” I wrote that her poems might be difficult for some to read: “These poems are beautifully crafted, often primal, and they touch the deepest reaches of personal illness and the shadow of mortality. Readers who have breast cancer or who have family or friends living with breast cancer, might find these poems difficult to read–others under the same circumstances might find them difficult and yet, at the same time, essential.” The poems in this collection can be as raw as they are hauntingly beautiful. But, as do her other books, this one again opens to us a world apart, one we cannot enter unless we share this author’s diagnosis and illness trajectory. If we are caregivers or care receivers, if we suffer or we watch loved ones suffer, these poems plunge us into emotions that we ignore at our peril.  

Publisher Louisiana State University Press 
Place Published Baton Rouge 
Edition 2016 
Page Count 65 

A previous version of this review was published in the NYU Literature, Arts, and Medicine Database. 
Web image created by Medhum.org

A precocious young person on a track to success, Wang experiences a manic episode at Yale that leads to her first hospitalization. After a second hospitalization, her college washes its hands of her. Hitting roadblocks time and time again requires her to rebuild her life over and over. This is not a conventional chronological autobiography but rather essays that provide different approaches to the author’s experience of mental illness. The plural “schizophrenias” of the title encompasses the whole schizophrenic spectrum of disorders. As Wang explains, her own diagnosis is “the fucked-up offspring of manic depression and schizophrenia” (p. 10).   

In an essay entitled “High-Functioning” we learn how the author, having been a fashion editor, knows how to pass for normal: “My makeup routine is minimal and consistent. I can dress and daub when psychotic and when not psychotic. I do it with zeal when manic. If I’m depressed, I skip everything but the lipstick. If I skip the lipstick, that means I haven’t even made it to the bathroom mirror” (p.44).   

Later, in “The Choice of Children,” volunteering at a camp for bipolar children makes Wang think about what it would be like to inflict her diagnosis on her own offspring. In “Reality, On-Screen” she attempts to convey the sensation of decompensating to psychosis. And in “Yale Will Not Save You” she considers the failure of universities to accommodate mentally ill students.  

This is a special and rare book. As with Elyn R. Saks in The Center Cannot Hold, Wang’s disability seems not to have robbed her of her cognitive faculties, resulting in a sense of lucidity. Yet, at the same time, we are never far from madness. As a result, the essays glisten like polished jewels while the author’s voice retains the air of authenticity.   

While Wang has understandably had ambivalent experiences, in every case where The Collected Schizophrenias might have lapsed into an anti-psychiatry rant, the author instead considers a range of perspectives. She is devoted to taking her medication, yet she open-mindedly explores alternative therapies, spirituality, and even the notion that her illness might have bestowed talents or some evolutionary advantage on her.   

We should not have to be reminded that once civilians become patients they do not lose their intelligence. Wang writes that “a primary feature of the experience of staying in a psychiatric hospital is that you will not be believed about anything” (p. 98). Indeed, when she is asked how she is doing and she replies she is doing well, she is said to be lacking in insight. At other times, she is advised by certain well-meaning people that given her diagnosis “I should be proud of how coherent I am” (p. 54), and by others “who don’t believe in mental illness… that in other cultures, a person who would be diagnosed with schizophrenia in the West might be lauded as a shaman and a healer…They are likely to be the type who boast about never taking aspirin for a headache” (p. 23).  

There are many insights to be found in this book that should prove eye-opening to mental health practitioners. It should be required reading for anyone who wants to understand the experience of having an illness.   

Publisher Graywolf Press 
Place Published Minneapolis 
Edition 2019 
Page Count 202 

Web image from Wikicommons
An earlier version of this review was published in the NYU Literature, Arts, and Medicine Database. 

Actor Clark Middleton wrote this autobiographical dramatic monologue in collaboration with Robert Knopf. Stricken with juvenile rheumatoid arthritis at age four, Middleton enacts his early painful experience — painful physically and emotionally. He takes us through an adolescence complicated by physical difference, his interaction with medical professionals over the years, and his craving to become an actor. Middleton struggles with the medical establishment, the pain and humor of coming-of-age, and ultimate self acceptance. Eventually, he was able to have both hip replacement surgery and a career in theater and film. The play is funny, poignant, and instructive.

Miracle Mile was performed in New York City in Fall, 1997 at Theater Row. The New York Times review called the play, “an enriching chronicle of a man who refuses to let the world take him at face value.” Middleton performed his monologue at New York University School of Medicine and at other institutions. Clips of a videotape of the theater performance are available at this web site.

Archive Videos from the Play

Actor Information
Clark Middleton (actor/author) performed MIRACLE MILE Off-Broadway in the fall of 1997. He has appeared in Sam Shephard’s CURSE OF THE STARVING CLASS as well as Mr. Shephard’s CHICAGO at the Signature Theatre Company. Clark was in William Hoffman’s AFTER THE ORCHARD and performed MIRACLE MILE at the Invaluable Cape Cod Theater Project. He began his professional career performing with the late Geraldine Page in productions of THE MADWOMAN OF CHAILLOT, PARADISE LOST, and VIVAT VIVAT REGINA. Since that time he has appeared in more than 40 NYC productions, most notably at the New York Shakespeare Festival, The Public Theatre, LaMaMa and Circle Rep, where he appeared with Olympia Dukakis in THE HOPE ZONE. In NYC Clark has directed LONE STAR, OUR DALY BREAD, DOMINO COURTS, CALL IT CLOVER and KIDNAPPED. He also directed MARVIN’S ROOM at The Wayside Theatre in Virginia. Clark can be seen in the films BAIL JUMPER, STORIES FROM NEW YORK, THE CONTENDERS and DON’T SHOOT DARLING. Clark plays the forensics expert Ellis on NBC-TV’s LAW & ORDER. He is a native of Tucson, Arizona and a member of both the Lab Theater Company and the 42nd Street Workshop.

Clark died on October 4, 2020. He was 63 years old.

Director Michael Warren Powell
Leading Actors Clark Middleton
Video Courtesy of Michelle Bouchard
Original Date of Entry 07/12/06

An earlier version of this review was published in the NYU Literature, Arts, and Medicine Database (Litmed).

Web Photo by Alex Radelich