In a Mad World
Recently, I read the story “Colloquy” by Shirley Jackson. This brief story, published in the New Yorker in 1944, struck me as a really important work to look at as we navigate the horrors we see in the world today. Its depth and sharpness excellently capture the absurdity of modern life and it gave me a sense of relief to see that it can represent human emotions that span decades but feel ever more relevant today. I recommend reading the story if you can (it's on the New Yorker website, but you may need to create an account, I read in it a collection of short stories I got from the library: Support Libraries!). Spoilers for “Colloquy” ahead.
The story tells of a woman, Mrs. Arnold, who goes to see a new doctor to talk about things going on in her life that she doesn’t feel comfortable talking about with her regular doctor. As tension builds to what she is trying to hesitantly speak on, the reader is very curious and wonders what could be so wrong. What she ultimately tries to describe is a profound confusion and disappointment, saying “I don’t understand the way people live. It all used to be so simple” and she goes on “did there use to be words like psychosomatic medicine? Or international cartels? Or bureaucratic centralization?” She is clearly exasperated. As the doctor begins to explain (or rather condescend to her) these concepts, she begins to softly cry, seemingly out of frustration, bewilderment, and despair. The last paragraph ends in this exchange:
“Mrs. Arnold,” the doctor said severely, “I want you to get ahold of yourself. In a disoriented world like ours today, alienation from reality frequently-“ Disoriented,” Mrs. Arnold said. She stood up. “Alienation,” she said. “Reality.” Before the doctor could stop her she walked to the door and opened it. “Reality,” she said, and went out.
When I finished reading I thought: that’s exactly how I feel! We live in a time where our modern society is terrorizing and murdering citizens with ICE, where AI CEO’s have daily warnings of takeover (but still push their products on us for sale in every conceivable way), the climate crisis is reaching a literal boiling point. And we are all supposed to do what? Just do our normal thing? This is what I talked about in an earlier blog post on hypernormalization.
But can we see ourselves as Mrs. Arnold? She wonders in the story “ Is everyone crazy but me?” And that’s what it can feel like sometimes. Looking for answers and getting met with ever more confusion. Getting pushback on calling what’s happening in America as fascist or what’s happening in Gaza as genocide. It’s maddening.
I can understand Mrs. Arnold’s need for someone to validate her feelings, to help her, to be present with her in the world as it is. Not to dismiss her experience and to reinforce the very insanity she is questioning. This also reads like a therapy appointment. There are so many therapists nowadays that will just help their clients cope with the way things are. I disagree, therapy needs to be a space where we can name the absurdities, the hypernormalization, the horrors, the fascism at work. Where we take this all seriously, and not dismissively, or as adjunct to our lives. Something to compartmentalize rather than engender the activist within.
I love the end of this story because the way she leaves fills me with hope. I read her last few words as laden with disgust, but they can also read in a multitude of ways. If we can name it, even if we don’t understand it, if we can be angry about it, even if despairing, then we can stand against it. We don’t have to turn away or be subsumed. The story didn’t end with her numbing herself and accepting the doctor's way of looking at things. She isn’t meek. She is disturbed, but still willing to name what is disturbing her, as we all must continue to do in our own lives. It’s not easy and it takes reminders coming from new and unexpected places.