Not the thing I was

Publishers Weekly

Eliot's striking memoir chronicles a childhood and adolescence spent within the luxurious confines of the University of Chicago Sonia Shankman Orthogenic school, then run by migr psychiatrist Bruno Bettelheim. In an era when most mental institutions were sterile and unforgiving, Bettelheim's school during Eliot's stint (1963-1976) boasted fine china, classic film screenings, open discussions of sexuality and an unlocked, fully stocked "candy closet" that the children were allowed to raid at will. It's also a place where, according to Eliot, Bettelheim ruled supreme, said nasty things to the kids and publicly slapped them. A concentration camp survivor, "Dr. B." (as both staff and patients called him) passionately believed that "if the Nazis could create an environment to destroy personality... he could build an environment that could foster and re-create personality"-orthogenic means "path to truth" in Greek. And the school's methods are stunningly unorthodox; upon his arrival, eight-year-old Stephen is given a stuffed lion--not, Bettelheim explains, so that he has something to love, but so that he'll have something to hit that can't hit him back. The children, of varying ages, are all there for different reasons; Stephen, a precocious child who could read before he was two, describes them as people with a certain "limp in life," and his own case as involving anxiety and castration fears and borderline schizophrenia. Unfortunately, the memoir shuttles back and forth in time too rapidly-each chapter, ostensibly about a different topic, moves confusingly through the 13 years of Eliot's treatment. A simple year-by-year structure would have made this memoir, which has a real story to tell (and which will inevitably be compared with Girl, Interrupted) more coherent. (Mar.) Copyright 2002 Cahners Business Information.

Library Journal

In this unique story of recovery from childhood mental illness, Eliot lucidly recounts his 13 years at the Orthogenic School at the University of Chicago, when the controversial Bruno Bettelheim (1903-90) served as director. Born in Austria and interned in concentration camps, Bettelheim believed in long-term psychoanalytic treatment rather than the drug therapy and behavior modification programs prevalent today. Eliot, who now works as an investment banker in New York City, was sent to the school in 1963 at the age of eight. Just why is unclear, however: the author alludes to unhappiness, lack of friends, and some bizarre thoughts, but that does not seem to account for his diagnosis as a schizophrenic in a transitional phase. Eliot instead focuses on the details of daily life at the school, covering Bettelheim's foibles as well as his therapeutic genius and offering tales of relationships between students and counselors, visits home to an affluent environment, and his rich fantasy life as a troubled boy with gender identification problems. This coming-of-age story was first published in France and relies mostly on memories and case notes. Despite unanswered questions about the nature of the author's illness and treatment regimen, this intriguing and inspirational book is recommended for specialized collections serving mental health consumers and their advocates.-Antoinette Brinkman, M.L.S., Evansville, IN Copyright 2002 Cahners Business Information.

Kirkus Reviews

A New York City investment banker recounts his long haul through a childhood and adolescence of emotional troubles. By the time he was eight, Eliot remembers, he saw dangers everywhere. In response, he became verbally vicious, full of rage and sadness, arrogance and grandiosity. In profound disequilibrium, he was diagnosed as a borderline schizophrenic. Here, recounting his 13 years at Bruno Bettelheim's Orthogenic School in Chicago, he tries to crawl back into the skin of the boy who never felt comfortable in that skin. Bettelheim would have approved, for it was his conviction that to help a disturbed child, you first had to see the world as the child did. But Eliot is a different creature now, and it is difficult for him to coax his strange younger self onto the page, despite reference to notes taken by his counselors. However, he is eloquent in describing the Orthogenic School’s routines and in weaving his progress through them, from the battling child who established a relationship with another person for the first time, to the golden middle years when he started to catch glimpses of his behavior in a context other than his own, to the desire to be free of observation and others’ control. Also sharp is Eliot’s portrait of Bettelheim, contradictions and brilliance and all. A genius at "digging out the underlying truth about an issue," the psychologist had less attractive traits, including a weakness for humiliating students and an inability to adequately contend with teenage sexual issues. Yet he created an environment that could foster and re-create personality, at least for some. Eliot knows that leaving the school at age 21 to attend Yale was not a miracle or a matter of luck, butthe result of counselors who knew he had "a streak of sanity somewhere" and helped him find, mine, and refine it. Flawed, but in patches a vivid depiction of an unorthodox school and its controversial director.