Wagner
was very far from normal. (I’ve already outlined that here to a large degree.) Virtually everyone who met him—friend and foe—noted how unusual he
was in a wide variety of ways. Many of his contemporaries felt he
suffered from this or that mental illness, and the literature on what
pathology he may or may not have suffered from is quite extensive.
Clearly, as well, he was an incredibly gifted man. He was also
well-aware of his difference from everyone else, and made frequent
reference to it. Wagner, who was beset by both mental and
stress-related physical problems his entire life, believed—and I
will argue he is generally correct on this— that his stark differences
from seemingly everyone else were both pathological and the source of
his genius. Yet, whether stemming from or just coexisting with that
pathology, he was extraordinary productive. His creative drive
overrode whatever pathology stood in his path, as well as the multiple
physical ailments that plagued him, and he succeeded in creating an
incredible body of work, overcoming massive practical impediments
along the way.
In
the next several posts, I will be exploring all the above. I will be
laying out pieces of the puzzle of his brain and, in my last post in
the series, assembling all of them to try to create a coherent story.
I should note that I have no particular expertise in the field. But
I do feel I have a solid lay understanding of the area, as I have
spent years studying the brain and mental illnesses and have a lot of practical
experience with people who suffer from a wide variety of mental
challenges, disorders, differences or illnesses...whatever you want
to call it.
I
am going to save the issue of the connection between his particular
genius and “madness” for the next several posts. In this one,
I just want to give an overview of my understanding of the issues,
and my assumptions and understanding about the brain, mental illness
and creativity, before tackling his specific case. But everything I
touch on here will come back in his unique story, so pay attention!
I
would like to start by (re)emphasizing my belief that a discussion
of anyone’s mind must be put in the context of modern neuroscience’s
understanding of the brain; to wit, our free will, if it exists at all,
is severely limited. I wrote about the issue of free will here,
and if you didn’t read it before, I suggest that as the starting
point for this section. But for a quick review, the
neuroscientist Sam Harris, who does not believe we have any free
will, puts it this way: “Free
will is an illusion. Our wills are simply not of our own making.
Thoughts and intentions emerge from background causes of which we are
unaware and over which we exert no conscious control.” David
Dennett opposes this view in general but agrees that free will
doesn’t exist to any appreciable degree if we are not “wired
right,” that is have retardation, brain damage, or mental illness.
The Brain
First,
we all have unique brains. One of the key findings of modern
neurology is the plasticity of the brain. In a nutshell, the brain’s
experience alters its structure, therefore each of us has a very
singular brain. An interesting article about the human mind from Salon
summarizes this point:
Because each life path is uniquely personal, our individual patterns of neuronal connections are likewise uniquely constructed. Far more complex than a fingerprint, the intricate pattern of synapses makes every brain one of a kind, distinguishing even between identical twins, who share the same DNA code. The 1,000,000,000,000,000 or so neuronal connections that compose each brain’s structure form its unique signature, unprecedented and unrepeatable.
These
structural changes can be minimal or, in the case of intensive study
and work, much more significant:
Some alterations amount to no more than heightened sensitivity of the connections between neurons. A more significant form of adaptation is the formation of new synapses, which supports longer-term knowledge and skill development. The most radical structural change entails rewiring large sections of the cortex. Although we are used to thinking about learning along the timeline of minutes or hours, wholesale brain rewiring can occur over the course of many years. We see manifestations of significant neurological “remodeling” in the neural organizations of professional violinists and taxi drivers. Such remodeling might even include brain enlargement.
I
am pretty sure that Wagner “rewired” his brain to be a finely
tuned emotional machine. I can’t prove this contention, of course,
but one study of professional musicians gives a clue to what I am proposing. These musicians, in contrast to the control group, were shown to have
an increased ability to process emotion in sound. The
study’s author said: “In essence, musicians more economically
and more quickly focus their neural resources on the important -- in
this case emotional -- aspect of sound. That their brains respond
more quickly and accurately than the brains of non-musicians is
something we'd expect to translate into the perception of emotion in
other settings.”1
Mental
Abnormality and Mental Illness
While
we are all unique, there are certainly patterns of behavior that
people have labeled as “normal or “abnormal.” This whole issue
is rather fraught, as more often than not the “abnormal” has been
viewed as pathological. However, sometimes things that were once
considered pathological have been relabeled as okie-dokie. In
my lifetime, for example, my lesbianism went from being considered a
mental disorder that was criminalized behavior to being seen as
mentally healthy and quite legal!
Obviously,
just because something is abnormal doesn’t mean it is a necessarily
a pathology; instead, it could be just a part of normal human
variation. That said, in the US, the principal direction is
clear: more and more behaviors are being identified as pathological.
In a speech in 1939, Carl Jung noted with disgust that “we cannot
stand abnormal people any more so there are apparently very many more
crazy people”2
The blogger Steven Novella sums up the debate within the psychology profession of the issue of
so-called “abnormalities”:
The
question is essentially how we should think about symptoms of mood,
thought, and behavior. At one extreme we night consider all aspects
of human mentality as being part of the normal spectrum, with
differences being just that – differences. Those who follow the
position of Thomas Szasz consider labels on mental differences to be
largely politically and culturally motivated forms of repression.
At
the other end is the obsessive partitioning of every nuance of human
behavior into one or another abnormal category – the medicalization
of all human problems. This may be connected to an overly
reductionist approach to psychology, seeing all behavior in terms of
neurotransmitters and brain function and giving insufficient
attention to higher order situational and cultural factors.
Clinically
speaking, if a pattern of behavior is harmful to the individual or to
others in society, it is generally considered pathological. The more
severe the harm to the self or others, the more the person is
perceived to be mentally ill. But what if the reason the person is
harming themselves—i.e. the person has developed a mental disorder
or a drug dependency, for example—is because of a reaction to
long-term persecution for their “abnormal” behavior? Who is the
person with the real mental illness, the persecutor or the
persecuted? Returning to the issue of the historical labeling of
homosexuality (and other “queer”3
thoughts and behavior) as a pathology, I believe that there was—and is—a pathology
related to the issue. However, it wasn’t queer people who had the
mental illness (except as so driven by their persecution.) Instead, to
my mind, it was the people who wanted to persecute those who were
different who had the true mental illness, as they had a pathological
fear or hatred of the “other” (often codified in religious
dogma).
I
am not arguing that mental illnesses that develop from persecution
aren’t real, of course. Many queer people did and do, in fact,
have mental problems stemming directly from the societal taboo
on their behavior or thoughts. While the relatively broader
acceptance of queer behavior has helped to lessen this problem, the
taboo still remains fierce in many parts of the country, particularly
for those people who cross gender boundaries. The flip side is that
those intolerant behaviors that should be seen as pathological are
not labeled as such due to a societal cultural paradigm accepting
this behavior—such as persecution of those who are different than
the general population—as normal and part of “human nature.”
The
etiology of mental illness is, of course, complex and well beyond the
scope of this blog. But, I do want to highlight one of the important
precursors to its development: stress. To be persecuted or to be poor
or to have a dysfunctional family environment brings on stress. There
is large body of evidence that this can both can trigger the initial
onset of mental illness as well as be a factor in the continuation of
the illness and relapses into severe episodes. Read here for evidence on the relationship of mental illness and stress. As well, it is linked to all sorts of physical problems as
well, from long-term problems such as heart disease to an increased susceptibility to the common cold.4 This is particularly true for chronic stress.
Creativity
and Mental Illness
There
has long been an academic debate whether “madness” and creativity
are linked. The debate is getting tantalizingly close to consensus
with both long-term studies and neurological science finding clear
links between several mental conditions and creativity, including
depression and bipolar disorders,
schizophrenia, ADHD and autism. For a good overview of the topic with many references to the scientific research, see here.
The
fact that they are linked doesn’t mean, of course, that the
majority of creative people have mental problems.5
But what has been repeatedly proven is that the numbers of highly successful creative
folks who have had mental problems far exceed any control group. This is the finding that has fueled the neurological and biochemical search.
One
of the scientists who is unconvinced that there is a casual
connection between creativity and mental illness is Johns Hopkins
researcher Albert Rothenberg.6
In Creativity and Madness, he argues that madness and creativity
are functionality incompatible: “Although creative people may be
psychotic at various periods of their lives, or even at various times
during a day or week, they cannot be psychotic at the time they
are engaged in the creative process, or it will not be
successful.”7
He then acknowledges that creative thinking “involves a great deal
of mental and emotional strain,” which could lead to mental
problems.8
The problem is that he is arguing against no one. Researchers who believe that creativity and mental illness are often linked are not arguing that people create during psychotic episodes, but that mental illnesses can emotionally inform those artists about the human condition through their own suffering or, for that matter, euphoria. The idea is that they then channel into their emotional revelations into their art during periods of relative or complete sanity.
The problem is that he is arguing against no one. Researchers who believe that creativity and mental illness are often linked are not arguing that people create during psychotic episodes, but that mental illnesses can emotionally inform those artists about the human condition through their own suffering or, for that matter, euphoria. The idea is that they then channel into their emotional revelations into their art during periods of relative or complete sanity.
Rothenberg
did show through his research that there is one universal factor for
creative success: extraordinarily high motivation, that is, a strong
creative drive.9
The poet Carol Ann Beeman argues in her compelling book Just
This Side of Madness
that it is this drive itself which is can tip over to mental illness
unless it is able to be satisfied:
The
drive to create is explored through an increased affectivity and
sensitivity to emotional stimulation into a total, unique, and
individual expression of his or her experience of life. The artist
just like the rest of us becomes burdened with the affective build-up
associated with any biological or psychological drive state.
Creative self-expression is the only constructive means through which
artist can reduce the tensions inherent in the drive state to any
effective degree. Without a suitable outlet to ensure the
constructive channeling of the emotional content collected from his
or her reactions of the world, the artist will inevitably
break-down.10
However,
the strains of the “constructive” act of artistic creation itself
can lead breakdown. For instance, Leonard Woolf reports about his wife Virginia: “It was mental and physical strain which endangered her
mental stability....Thus the connection between her madness and her
writing was close and complicated, and it is significant that,
whenever she finished a book, she was in a state of mental exhaustion
and for weeks in danger of a breakdown.”11
While
the link between creativity and “madness” has been all but
proven, the main thing to reemphasize is that the act of creation
generally requires sanity and detailed control, certainly for works that require skilled
craft such as creative writing, composing, etc. (I mean, there could be exceptions: Jackson
Pollack’s work looks nuts to me, and I can imagine it could have been done
in a psychotic state without any problem.) As Salvador Dali said,
“There is only one difference between a madman and me. The madman
thinks he is sane. I know that I am mad.”
Note
on the Diagnostic Statistical Manual (DSM)
Before
I continue with this line of argument, I just want to interject that
the whole concept of disorders as we understand them—the DSM being
the standard
reference for classification of mental disorders—is suspect, and
there is now a large push-back to the symptom-based view of mental
illness that it is not grounded in science. The recent release of
the DMV-V has crystallized this debate. The new edition,
though greatly criticized for some of its tweaks, doesn’t really
change much from DSM-IV. The National Institute for Mental Health
(NIMH) has publicly criticized its approach, not because of a radical
break with the past, but because it hasn’t done so, which they
believe in the modern era is essential. The organization's central
argument is that the new techniques of brain science—still in their
infancy— are the best way forward, and the DSM way of categorizing
is, essentially, without scientific underpinning and therefore a dead-end. The
director of the NIMH, in this open letter writes:
The
weakness [of the DSM] is its lack of validity. Unlike our definitions
of ischemic heart disease, lymphoma, or AIDS, the DSM diagnoses are
based on a consensus about clusters of clinical symptoms, not any
objective laboratory measure. In the rest of medicine, this would be
equivalent to creating diagnostic systems based on the nature of
chest pain or the quality of fever. Indeed, symptom-based diagnosis,
once common in other areas of medicine, has been largely replaced in
the past half century as we have understood that symptoms alone
rarely indicate the best choice of treatment.
He
goes on to indicate his bottom-line: “But
it is critical to realize that we cannot succeed if we use DSM
categories as the ‘gold standard.’
The
diagnostic system has to be based on the emerging research data, not
on the current symptom-based categories.”
Since
all brains are completely unique, that too argues against any sort of
reductionist model in which people suffering from a variety of
mental—and often physical—symptoms can easily be slotted into
this or that disorder. That said, it is hard to even discuss the
subject without referring to the dominant model—the DSM—that exists in our
culture now. I am hoping to avoid reductionism, as I absolutely
believe that is impossible with Wagner, but I will of necessity refer
to DSM disorders when I turn to Wagner.
Creativity
and the Bipolar Disorder Spectrum
The
strongest evidence showing a link to creativity consists of disorders on the
bipolar spectrum. These disorders are characterized by cyclical mood
changes between manic and depressive states. The changes can be
extremely rapid or a person can be stuck in a “manic” or
“depressive” episode for long periods. Sometimes both symptoms
co-exist. On the mild end of the spectrum, it is called Cylothymia
disorder, with the less-severe manic episodes termed hypomania. There
are various subtypes, but the most severe is Bipolar I and the
relatively more moderate is Bipolar II.
Kay Redfield Jamison,
the author of Touched
with Fire
about creativity and bipolar or depressive disorders, writes in her book, “Mania is characterized by an exalted or irritable mood, more
and faster speech, rapid thought, brisker physical and mental
activity levels, quickened and more finely tuned senses,
suspiciousness, a marked tendency to seek out other people and
impulsiveness.”12
As for the depressive cycle, it “affects not only mood but the
nature and content of thought as well. Thinking processes almost
always slow down, and decisiveness is replaced with indecision and
rumination. The ability to concentrate is usually greatly impaired
and willful action and thought become difficult if not impossible.”13
The
paradox of the disease is that many people who have it like aspects
of it, and don't want to lose those parts of the disease. In
this small study of people diagnosed with bipolar illness most viewed
it “as a gift.” The
actor Stephen Fry, who has been diagnosed with the disorder, created
a film to explore this conundrum.14 (Watch it here.) He asked everyone he interviewed who had been diagnosed with the
disorder if they would push a button to make it disappear. Only one
would have done so. The three folks pictured below—Fry, Richard Dreyfuss and Carrie Fisher—all said that they preferred to “keep” their disease.
At the time of the film, Fry had never even treated the disorder because he actually liked his manic self, believed it was essential for his creativity, and didn’t want that to go away. However, the depression that accompanies the disorder has led him to make repeated suicide attempts (and according to this article about a recent suicide attempt, he seems to be treating the syndrome now).
There are a number of explanations and theories from neuroscience and psychiatric literature exploring this connection between bipolar and creativity. I can only provide a small smattering of them, and I am leaving out the scientific grounding as it would require many more pages. However, please follow the links below in the footnotes to get started on the biochemical and neuroscientific literature.15
There are a number of explanations and theories from neuroscience and psychiatric literature exploring this connection between bipolar and creativity. I can only provide a small smattering of them, and I am leaving out the scientific grounding as it would require many more pages. However, please follow the links below in the footnotes to get started on the biochemical and neuroscientific literature.15
The
most obvious connection is that during the hypomanic state the artist
has both the drive, stamina and confidence to express their emotional
insights, often gained at the depressive trough. In this article by
the psychiatrist Neel Burton,
he highlights a study by Jamison of artists diagnosed on the
bipolar spectrum, in which the majority self-reported that the
hypomanic state led to “‘increases in
enthusiasm, energy, self-confidence, speed of mental association,
fluency of thoughts and elevated mood, and a strong sense of
well-being.’ Participants also reported a noticeably decreased need
for sleep and
feelings of elation, excitement, and anticipation.” That such
feelings and thoughts would potentially aid the creative process
seems clear.
An
article on the subject in Wired
puts it this way: “The extravagant
high descends into a profound low. While this volatility is horribly
painful, it can also enable creativity, since the exuberant ideas of
the manic period are refined during the depression.”
A
New York Times article on the same subject suggests, “One
idea is that since there is a genetic basis for affective disorders,
the same gene may also produce artists. Geneticists suggest that
because the way a manic depressive episode arouses brain activity --
triggering extreme swings of emotion -- the brain may become more
adaptive to synthesizing incongruous thoughts. That process -- of
reorganizing disparate emotions into a new order -- may be the
essence of creativity.”
Burton cautions in his article: “Thus, whilst there can be little doubt that
bipolar disorder and creative genius are associated, evidence of
causation and of the direction of causation is still lacking.” Thus, he postulated that it was possible that the creative drive and the
acts of artist expression itself that could trigger the disorder in
some individuals and not the other way around as is generally
imagined.
End Notes
2 As
quoted in Beeman, Just This Side of Madness, page 32. It is easy to
track this trend through the Diagnostic Statistical Manual of Mental
Disorders (DSM). Each edition has led
to an
ever greater numbers of identified disorders; some of this is just
refining and distinguishing but some of it is, in fact,
pathologizing that which was not seen as pathological in the past.
The DSM-I,
from 1952, listed 106; the DSM-III,
from 1980, listed 265, and the current DSM-IV has
297. The chair of the DSM-5 task
force, David Kupfer, announced that the total number of disorders
in DSM-5
would not increase, but subtypes were added!
3 I understand that some people aren’t comfortable with the use of
the word “queer” to define the gamut of folks who are gay,
bisexual, transgendered, transsexual and otherwise outside the norm
of heterosexual and gender conformity. Oh well, get used to it.
It’s a great term and so darned economical for writing!
5 Though
in the case of famous poets it is close to a majority, as a number
of studies have shown the incidence of psychopathology to be around
50% for them; musicians and prose writers tend to follow with about
35-30% rates. See page 62 of Jamison, Touched by Fire and the whole of chapter 3.
6 Rothenburg,
Creativity and Madness; this book came out in 1990, which in the world of brain science
is in the relative dark ages. I don't know if he has moderated his position with the changing evidence.
7 Ibid, 36 (emphasis in the original)
8 Ibid,
161
11 Ibid,
141
12 Jamison, Touched with Fire, 27. Jamison is both a professor of
Psychiatry at Johns Hopkins (though a trained psychologist) and has
suffered from the disease herself since early adulthood.
13 Ibid,
21
14 Fry obviously likes to tackle conundrums, in that he did the previously-linked documentary
exploring his love for Wagner in the context of his Jewish heritage,
too.
15 For some of the scientific underpinnings of the links between creativity and madness, see here and here on dopamine and
the mesolimbic and mesocortical pathways; see here where you can either read or watch a Glenn Wilson lecture covering creativity and psychoticism, schizotype, apophenia; see here for the connection of a lower latent inhibition (LI) threshold
to creativity and mental illness.
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