Brain on Fire

Brain on Fire: My Month of Madness by Susannah Cahalan

What a frightening tale. Brain on Fire is more than a memoir of Susanna Cahalan’s self-described “month of madness.” This book is, at various times, a straightforward autobiography, a research paper, a sociological study, and a treatise on the state of quality medical care. And it all meshes well.

Susannah Cahalan was twenty-four years old and a reporter at The New York Post when she began suffering from an illness that presented itself with symptoms similar to schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and other well-known, but misunderstood, mental illnesses. It’s no spoiler to say that Ms. Cahalan recovered from the illness—she did write the book—but Brain on Fire is more about the how than it is the what.

The most impressive thing is how the author was able to treat her own case like a reporter. She researched the subject matter; watched hospital tapes of her own episodes and treatments; interviewed her doctors, friends, family, and coworkers; and put it all together in a way that make me laugh, cry, and want to read more about it all. It would be very easy for a work like this to swing to one extreme—either too much or too little—of the emotion scale. Instead, it was balanced and nuanced.

The second-most impressive thing was Ms. Cahalan’s sentence structure. I found myself rereading sentences and marveling at her use of words and punctuation. She varied the structure at different parts of the book. Sick Susannah, “crazy” Susannah, recovering Susannah, and reflective Susannah were all presented differently. They existed in the same body, but they are not the same person, and the author, whether intentionally or not, managed to voice them differently. Very effective.

This was just about as perfect a book as it could be to have been written by the subject at such a short period of time after the occurrence of the tale. There was a point about two-thirds through it where I thought the recovery period would be dragged out and morph into a sappy “everybody was so great and I have the greatest family ever and I could have never made it without them” love-fest. It didn’t. Instead, the author addressed her recovery in a satisfactory manner (she still has to live with these people and deal with them every day) and then went in a direction I did not expect. The end of the book was a selfless and self-aware piece on the state of mental illness, where we stand in terms of research & knowledge, and a very real and relatable reflection on the whys. I loved it. Chapter 47 through 49, in particular, represent some of the best writing I’ve read in 2012. Great book. I highly recommend it.



A+