Product Description

'Bedlam!' The very name conjures up graphic images of naked patients chained among filthy straw, or parading untended wards deluded that they are Napoleon or Jesus Christ. We owe this image of madness to William Hogarth, who, in plate eight of his 1735 Rake's Progress series, depicts the anti-hero in Bedlam, the latest addition to a freak show providing entertainment for Londoners between trips to the Tower Zoo, puppet shows and public executions. That this is still the most powerful image of Bedlam, over two centuries later, says much about our attitude to mental illness, although the Bedlam of the popular imagination is long gone. The hospital was relocated to the suburbs of Kent in 1930, and Sydney Smirke's impressive Victorian building in Southwark took on a new role as the Imperial War Museum. Following the historical narrative structure of her acclaimed Necropolis, BEDLAM will examine the capital's treatment of the insane over the centuries, from the founding of Bethlehem Hospital in 1247 through the heyday of the great Victorian asylums to the more enlightened attitudes that prevail today.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #157901 in Books
• Published on: 2008-08-04
• Original language: English
• Binding: Paperback
• 336 pages

Review
...a lively and concise book...as a brief guide to its subject this book cannot be matched --Daily Express, September 5, 2008

Review
elegrantly written and richly anecdotal study

Review
a brilliant new history of the capital's treatment of its insane

Customer Reviews

History On the Dark Side
After enjoying the authors last outing "Necropolis", I was really looking forward to this book. I am glad to report that this book is even better than the last.
Ms Arnold takes us through a white-knuckle ride of the history of both the institution of Bedlam and the treatment of the mentally ill. No punches are pulled in the gruesome descriptions of the plight of the poor patients.
The book covers a lot of ground and it would have been easy for the writing to get bogged down in a single place but the skill of the author keeps it tripping along making it a very pleasing read overall. Whilst not being overly detailed, this book is a fascinating glimpse into an often ignored subject.
The only negative point I can find is that I would have liked a few more illustrations.

Not as good as I thought it might be
This book's downfall, I think, is its huge ambition. From 1247 to the present falls within its remit. I think for such a slim volume that is asking too much. The result is a mind-boggling cast of characters who have no sooner been introduced and allotted their fifteen seconds of fame than they are tossed aside to make way for the next person. It just becomes a little confusing.

I think there should have been more illustrations, too. Speaking of illustrations, in the maps provided why isn't Bethlem circled or in some other way indicated? I scoured them in my search and am not sure if I pinned it down.

The chronology progresses generally speaking as one would expect in a work of history (i.e. from the beginning to the end) but it also has the irritating habit of quite regularly leaping forwards and backwards centuries at a time. This is because Arnold struggles to contain the narrative either within a straightforward chronological order or when she digresses into self-contained related topics and the biographies of the various doctors and patients. The narrative needs to reconcile the different strands more satisfactorily.

However, having started off with some negative points I will admit that this is an interesting story, albeit probably despite the author's efforts rather than because of them. I never really felt that there was a common thread running through this book tying everything together. It felt disjointed. I also struggled to understand many parts of the book initially because of the author letting the people she writes about tell the story in their own words. It's often not easy to understand the historical dialects and peculiarities of writing and a translation isn't always provided.

This is a good book to read, though, if you have any experience of the mental health system yourself. I imagine. I think that to be told that only the thoughtful and the sensitive succumb to madness and that insanity has no respect for wealth or social status, afflicting rich and poor and high and low alike, is quite reassuring. Also, to be reminded that mental health problems are as old as humanity itself (or since 1247, at any rate) is pleasing and comforting too. Relief at living in this century is another emotion brought on my reading this.

Also, I was troubled by the amount of poetry quoted in this book. A fine example is the truly awful doggerel by John Keats that concludes the whole book. "Ode on Melancholy" is just abysmal. Is it supposed to be ironic? I tend not to like authors, especially historians, who indulge their enthusiasm for literature, and especially poetry, in their books. I think it is distracting and frustrating to repeatedly come across a block of meaningless (it's mostly only semi-fathomable and lacking literal meaning) verse in a non-fiction book and to necessarily feel obliged to stop to begin the arduous task of teasing out from it some sense.

It breaks up the flow and invariably makes one feel a failure for struggling with it. I didn't pick up a history (or history of medicine) book to read and critique poetry and I resent the fact that I am expected to do this. I've noticed that quite a few scientists and historians do this. I think authors should exercise some self-control and restraint in not being tempted to try to convert their readers to one of their pet hobbies or enthusiasms.

But, rant aside, and to draw this review to a close with indecent haste, I would still say this book is worth a look.

MAD AS A MILLINER
Bedlam was the original cockney name for Bethlem Hospital, a "refuge" for lunatics; the inhabitants have made bedlam a dictionary word. This book sprints through the history of the complex with the hysteria of many of its patients. Many of the characters receive their "fifteen minutes of fame" precisely because of the fleeting existence they had.

Famous -or infamous as the case may be- inmates included the painter Richard Dadd, who killed his dad and Margaret Nicholson who tried to kill a King; at the time she was insane and King George III was in one of his sane periods. The author relates these tales and many others with relish. Writing about madness in all its forms is the basis for this book and the narrative enthusiastically writhes forward.

Of course there are lurid adventures - for example the madmen who cut off their penises- and Catherine Arnold exposes the dubious mental health doctors of old tying the naked wretches to straw beds alongside various other more violent remedies. One chapter is devoted to crazy women and their poor woes, some of these hatless females had their heads blistered. Latin might not have been a dead language when Bethlem was in its early throes but the quacks didn't adhere to Primum Non Nocere.

Medicine may have advanced and the understanding of mental illness more humane, the problem of fascination with psychotic people still thrives today. Freak shows and serial killers receive far greater newsprint than good luck stories. At least today's asylums don't have an open day when the public can visit and laugh at the idiot's misfortune, as recounted in this volume.

This is a quick read and for those with short attention spans; it's ideal. We surge through the centuries like the Gordon rioters hell bent on razing London. Go on; give it a butcher's hook.