“It’s very romantic to think ‘I’m a tortured writer,’ but mental institutions are not full of people in bands. They’re full of people with so-called normal jobs.”
- Richey Edwards
I had a dream years ago wherein a nurse was calling me with results of some kind of test that had to do with my mental health and my sleep pattern. He told me that the results had come back the worst they’d ever seen and everyone was freaking out over them. Worriedly, I asked him what they were going to do in order to help me. In response, he just laughed and said, “Oh, we’re not going to do anything because you’re one of those creative people, an artist or whatever, and we know you need all this dysfunction in order to get work done,” and then he hung up on me.
It’s a common misconception that artists and mental illness go hand in hand. To me, that’s like saying that there’s a connection between teachers and cancer or businessmen and diabetes. Mental illness is not a gift; it’s, well, an illness. Having a mental illness does not suddenly make one a genius or great artist; those things are what one is despite an illness.
Of course, I won’t deny that art can be influenced by mental problems. There are numerous examples of this, and you’ve seen some of my own. That’s as far as the connection goes though. Speaking from my own perspective, art was a way for me to cope with my issues, it wasn’t a byproduct of them.
In order to better illustrate this point, I’ll use the story of Richey Edwards.
Richey was the lyricist of the band the Manic Street Preachers. He suffered from bouts of depression, self-harm, and anorexia nervosa. He disappeared in early 1995 and hasn’t been seen or heard from since. The band had just released their album The Holy Bible the year before, which is now widely hailed as the Manics’ best work, and also, some say, Richey’s suicide note. It confronts such issues as the Holocaust, anorexia nervosa, prostitution, capital punishment, and nihilism. Richey’s mental health near the release of the album was very poor, and some accused him of flaunting his problems to gain publicity for the band (he famously carved “4REAL” into his arm during a 1991 interview with Steve Lamacq). In a 1994 interview, James Dean Bradfield, the Manics’ lead singer, said, “I think it would make me angry if Richey’s songwriting just became therapy. I always thought that we wrote about other people apart from ourselves in a much better manner.” Richey added, “I wouldn’t allow that to happen, I would leave if that was the case.”
Richey did write lyrics that dealt with his own issues, but he wrote them from the point of view of people other than himself. He maintained incredible insight into his illnesses. His lyrics were extremely raw and honest. Indeed, one lyric states, “I’ve been too honest with myself; I should have lied like everybody else.”
The question to ask, then, is would Richey Edwards have been able to write how he did if it weren’t for his mental illnesses?
The answer is yes. Early works by the Manic Street Preachers prove this.
Richey had a great penchant for history, literature, and politics. The Manics’ early albums, especially Generation Terrorists, touch on these issues. Even The Holy Bible contains references, albeit spaced between lyrics dealing with Richey’s problems. Had Richey not been mentally ill, the band still would have stood apart loud and brilliantly from other bands. The young Manics were loud and angry about everything. Richey’s 4REAL incident certainly helped get the band attention, but they were already gaining attention through other means, and I believe that if that occurance hadn’t happened, they’d still have made a name for themselves somehow.
Richey’s problems only hindered the band overall. Over the years, everything started to become less about the band and more about Richey’s mental health. Everything was really starting to fall apart during the last tour they did as well. Richey’s problems cast a shadow over everything and put everyone on edge. If asked, nobody would have credited Richey’s issues for contributing positively to the band in any form. It was gaining them publicity, but it was the wrong publicity.
In conclusion, art and mental illness may co-exist frequently, but from my own experience, they are not necessarily connected in the way that most people assume they are. I would still be an artist if I weren’t mentally ill; I would still be mentally ill if I weren’t an artist. Schizoaffective disorder provides me with no benefits in any form to my life. Mental illness is not glamorous and does not assist my artwork or intelligence in any way.
In closing, this excerpt (shown to me by my friend, Carolyn) sums up everything I believe quite nicely:
“… whether or not psychological pain bestows or perhaps enhances creativity is an old debate. It is the question of, for example, “Would a happy Charles Dickens have written A Tale of Two Cities?” In working for many years with a great many traumatized people, artists, musicians, and writers among them, I have answered this question to my own satisfaction, and my answer is this: I do not think a happy Charles Dickens would have done less brilliant work, particularly if he were happy because he had recovered from being unhappy. On the contrary, I think that the natural genius of Charles Dickens would have expressed itself even more luminously – and also that the people around him would have led far more comfortable lives.
Happiness is not a mixed blessing.
I tell this to those of my patients who fear they will lose a certain creative edge should they be “cured”. One does not lose one’s edge. If anything, it becomes a finer blade, and – the best part – one does not have to bleed for it nearly so much. A talented person is not talented because of his or her pain. She or he is talented despite it. The pain is like a gauzy grey mist that has wrapped itself several times around a priceless clear light.”
- The Myth of Sanity: Divided Consciousness and the Promise of Awareness
