Customer Reviews

The Thief of Happiness: The Story of an Extraordinary Psychotherapy

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1 star:		(3)

 

 

Ever since Bonnie Friedman wowed audiences with WRITING PAST DARK -- which remains one of the finest books about the whole writing experience ever written (and destined to become a classic in the manner of the Burnett's)-- I have been waiting, breathless, for her next book.

The Thief of Happiness is an astounding tale of psychological dependency, deceit, trust, and a devastatingly subtle betrayal on the part of Ms Friedman's mental health practictioner. This book not only delves deeply into Ms Friedman's creative and personal soul; it takes the reader on an otherwise illicit journey behind the closed doors of psychotherapy. The only person who helped Ms Friedman was, ultimately, Ms Friedman.

A must-read for all those who are interested in the psychological ramifications of the creative process; the often over-tread boundaries of shrink-dom; and how one very talented author came away --- just barely --- with her life intact.

If you were infuriated by the stories some years back surrounding very well-known author/psychologist Masson, etc, you will not be sorry. With any luck, The New Yorker will cover this book in a feature piece. Ms Friedman certainly deserves the attention, as does the book.

I appreciate Bonnie's courage and generosity in opening up her heart. This is a sad story, but exquisitely and subtly told. I have always been skeptical of psychonalysis, and felt all along, while reading, that Bonnie had walked into a trap that would invariably sidetrack her from more productive ways of spending seven years. I do wish she had been more critical, overall, of classical analysis as a philosophy, and not just of her own particular experience, but this is her book, and not mine, and it seems that her final word on it all is that there were good things along with the bad in her therapy.

I was a little scared to read this book, afraid that it would inhabit the realm of Too Much Information. Thankfully, it did not: it read like a gripping novel, and I devoured it. Because the structure of the book was modeled so unambiguously on the therapeutic process, I was able to feel the author's therapeutic experience from the inside out. Consequently, all the feelings the author had- discomfort, excitement, relief- passed through me as I was reading the book. Friedman has an exquisite ear for language and an incredible eye for detail. I think she's a stunning writer. I loved the book.

Bonnie Friedman has the uncanny ability to take intimatica (that's a word I just made up, meaning "the most personal information a person can reveal about him or herself") and make it not only accessible to others, but suddenly and violently important. She heaves herself on the page, blemishes and all -- a literary gurgitation that is wondrous to behold. Such is her writerly charisma, however, that we don't merely behold, we partake of her; we feast upon this author's innards. Friedman has one of the most exquisite literary sensibilities around -- her words chime and rattle and gong with passion -- and her poetic vitality is so infective that one comes away not only knowing her inside out, but just maybe oneself, too.

Finally, a gifted writer conveys exactly what powerful therapy is really like! So many millions of people have been telling their secrets in darkened offices in pursuit of transformation, yet that sense of secrecy has kept anyone from openly conveying this extraordinary experience until now. And just our luck, Bonnie Friedman is the one that decided to do it. After reading her first book, Writing Past Dark, I would have been delighted to read her on any subject. She has such a wonderful ability to create an engrossing world and intrigue you through it with a sense of fresh discovery.

Having just finished devouring *The Thief of Happiness* in a few compulsive bites, I am amazed. Friedman manages to evoke (with astonishing precision and illumination) the shifting, ephemeral, intriguing, enchanting, dismaying grace notes and dissonances of the inner life, as we change and grow. While ostensibly and in fact about the process of therapy, it also illuminates any enthusiastic and turbulent process of self-discovery. In an era when so much of our attention is concentrated on the pragmatic outer world, this is a fresh and genuine achievement. Over and over I thought of Randall Jarrell's poem "Seele im Raum;" similarly, albeit over a far longer period, Friedman manages to capture how fleeting thoughts and feelings can arise and rule one's life--and then pass away like a strange fever dream. Her critical eye is always open; even when she is showing you fabulous magical moments of insight, she also lets you see that those moments will dissolve. I am in awe. The book should find an enthusiastic word-of-mouth fan base in book groups, psychology classes, literary circles, and everywhere else that people care about our spiritual and emotional growth.

Bonnie Friedman's book is mesmerizing in its honesty about the "warts and all" experience of an intense psychotherapy. She has the strength and courage to write about the details that matter in the patient-therapist relationship: how everything becomes imbued with emotion, from the bottoms of one's own feet to the pictures on the wall of the therapist's office. She turns such seemingly tiny moments into a page-turning narrative. Her prose is beautiful, her insights surprising, and again, always so honest. I am grateful to the author for putting this book into the world.

A fairly interesting read, and Friedman CAN write when she wants to, but this book really could have used some tight editing. The prose seems overblown and self-indulgent in so many places. Friedman is constantly trying to impress us with her insights and observations, and the self-consciousness of her writing style sticks out like a sore thumb and gets tiresome. There's also an air of superiority in many of her observations, even though she speaks so often of her lack of self-esteem and envy of others. She also uses similes as if they're going out of style and, once again, I think she overdoes it. She also feels compelled to describe EVERYTHING in the most minute detail (for ex., "The coffee blanched when I added milk and immediately established a film, like vanilla pudding" (another of her endless and often intrusive similes). Wow, the milk turned her coffee whiter -- now that's a revelation! There's also something artificial and stagy in her description of her therapy sessions; it's hard to believe she could remember verbatim all the actual conversations she had with her therapist...and some of the things her therapist allegedly said seem quite off the wall (not that therapists can't be off the wall, but I find it hard to believe that some of this actually occurred the way Friedman says it did). It's also clear that she never really intended her therapist's name to remain confidential, since she says later in the book that she acknowledged her therapist in her first book. Anyone looking that book up can determine who this woman is. If I were her therapist, I think I'd feel this book to be a betrayal of the therapist/patient confidentiality. I was very much looking forward to reading this and gaining more insight into how a therapist/patient relationship works and, to some extent, this book does offer that. However, I find it to be flawed in many ways, and on the whole a disappointment.

Bonnie Friedman is certainly a lyrical writer, perhaps her descriptive talents are more suited to works of fiction than non-fiction.
Based on the reviews I had read I expected a book that perhaps revealed some insight and personal revelation regarding the author's inner process of analysis. Instead I found this book to be quite self-absorbed, the author waxing poetic over irrelevant details and constantly relating childhood memories that aren't linked to anything in the story line at all, including each other.
Having had an analyst that was indeed a thief of many things, I was hoping to relate to Ms. Friedman's experience. Unfortunately, this book really didn't seem to describe her experience as much as it did her friends, her sister, the commute to the therapist,the painting on the therapist's wall, etc. For someone that had no personal knowledge of analysis, I very much fear that this particular work would only serve to reinforce the stereotype of self absorbed "navel gazers" as the clients of therapy. I think it does the therapeutic experience a terrible disservice.

Now that Bonnie Friedman has successfully completed therapy, hopefully this review will not bother her. Sitting in with Friedman and her therapist Dr. Sing for almost the entire 274 pages is tedious at best. The book is an extremely thorough and intelligent demonstration of the therapy process. However, to those unfamiliar with the therapy process, this book will likely come across as very self-absorbed and whiney, fostering the stereo-type that those in therapy are self-centered individuals who spend time blaming their issues on others. The book is also painfully detailed. For instance, descriptions of the four-hour car journey to the therapist's office left me feeling like I was driving the four hours. Spend your money on therapy, not this book!!!