Committed

On Meaning and Madwomen

By: Suzanne Scanlon

Narrated by: Suzanne Scanlon

A raw and masterful memoir about becoming a woman and going mad—and doing both at once.

When Suzanne Scanlon was a student at Barnard in the 90s, grieving the loss of her mother—feeling untethered and swimming through inarticulable pain—she made a suicide attempt that landed her in the New York State Psychiatric Institute.

After nearly three years and countless experimental treatments, Suzanne left the ward on shaky legs. In the decades it took her to recover from the experience, Suzanne came to understand her suffering as part of something larger: a long tradition of women whose complicated and compromised stories of self-actualization are reduced to “crazy chick” and “madwoman” narratives. It was a thrilling discovery, and she searched for more books, more woman writers, as the journey of her life converged with her journey through the literature that shaped her.

Transporting, honest, and graceful, Committed is a story of discovery and recovery, reclaiming the idea of the madwoman as a template for insight and transcendence through the works of Charlotte Perkins Gilman, Virginia Woolf, Sylvia Plath, Janet Frame, Audre Lorde, Shulamith Firestone, and others.

Cover painting: "Morning Sun" (detail), 1952, by Edward Hopper © 2024 Heirs of Josephine N. Hopper/Licensed by Artists Rights Society (ARS), NY. Photo by Artothek/Bridgeman Images.

Intelligent and poetic

This book kept me interested and gave me many books to add to my “to read” list. I appreciated the way the author wove books that influenced her into her life story. I would have liked to see more of this life story, though. Scanlon discusses the psych ward on which she was a patient, but I never get a very clear window into what it was like. This is where her discussion of books hindered rather than helps. Sometimes the analysis of a book goes on too long or gets too much into critical theory. As someone who cringes at too much analysis (I’m traumatized by my years as an English major, haha), I’d rather hear the personal rather than the analytical, especially when the analytical treads into political territory.
I enjoyed the book overall though and would recommend it. The audio version was a bit difficult for me because (I’m not sure if it was the microphone the author was using or what) many words sounded lisping. I have misophonia, so this is probably just a “me problem.” Anyway, give this book a shot! It’s thought-provoking for sure, and, as a fellow “professional patient,” I appreciate reading others’ experiences and finding connection there.