'Til death do you part?
Wrestling with matters of intimacy and autonomy
by Bill Rodriguezk
Peter D. Kramer
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The author most widely known for writing Listening to
Prozac doesn't believe in easy answers -- or easy questions. That's ironic,
because Providence psychiatrist Peter D. Kramer is wrongly associated by many
who didn't read the book -- and by some reviewers who read it carelessly --
with promoting the Panacea Pill school of mental hygiene. In fact, the 1993
best seller merely observed that anti-depressants are helpful for many people.
The book, and Kramer, was far more interested in examining the ethics and
likelihood that such drugs were changing the very nature of being a human being
in our society.
And if it's tough to get across such a distinction clearly in a whole volume,
how difficult must it be to communicate the right message to a person bristling
with defense mechanisms in therapy?
Yet in his recently published Should You Leave?, Kramer has taken on an
open-ended question that rarely has an absolute answer. It's also one of the
most common themes in his clinical practice.
That he is humbled by the question is evident in the book's subtitle: "A
Psychiatrist Explores Intimacy and Autonomy -- and the Nature of Advice."
Exploration indeed. Decide yes, decide no, each way leads into uncharted
territory.
"You don't get the opportunity that you get in the stories of Borges,
following two paths at once. You follow one path and you don't know what would
have happened if you had done the other one," Kramer says of deciding to leave
or not. "In reality you only get to follow one route."
Dressed in jeans and a black Provincetown sweatshirt, he is sitting in the
living room of his East Side home, a leisurely walk to his classes and seminars
as Clinical Professor of Psychiatry at Brown University. As a Harvard
undergraduate his concentrations were history and literature. The latter
interest is evident in his using fictional composites rather than case studies
in Should You Leave? Kramer is 49, though he looks far younger, and
despite a happy 17-year marriage that has produced three children, ages 7 to
16, he is anything but complaisant about the challenges to such unions today.
"We're in a culture where almost half the marriages end in divorce. You almost
need as much reason to stay as to go. I don't think there's been any other
civilization that's been balanced quite this way," he points out. "And that's
marriages. Obviously, most relationships that are not marriages do end.
"This book is certainly not meant to solve the crisis of divorce. But I do
think, often, that people give up too easily," he says. "Particularly, when
people consult me I have a sense that they don't have a very good sense of what
it is to try."
Trying hard to make a relationship succeed is hardly the kind of feel-good
message that makes self-help book sales soar. Kramer doesn't think much of the
run-of-the-drugstore-rack paperbacks that reduce the complexity of life to
numbered lists and simple rules for living. A recurring character in Should
You Leave? is the short story writing psychiatrist Lou Adler, a fictional
assemblage of mentor figures in Kramer's life. After reading an early draft of
the book, he impishly responds, "No maxims? No metaphors?"
"Almost anything you could say in self-help is right for some person and wrong
for another person," Kramer says. "Really, living is a creative act. That's the
problem with ordinary self-help, that if you went around applying the rules you
might be more successful in terms of achieving the goods that the culture, but
you might not live your own life."
And those values are problematical, as Kramer sees it. This is a very
"consumerous" culture, he observes, where people's worth is largely assessed in
terms of beauty, bank balance and other matters unrelated to character. "And
there's a sense that you can trade up. That if the model you have doesn't give
you sufficient dignity or reward, that you can trade up to a more valuable
model. I think that is really more dangerous at the moment. The ease of divorce
with the strength of this sort of hyper-capitalism makes relationships very
difficult."
Perpetuating this attitude is the popular culture at large, which establishes
and perpetuates behaviors and expectations through more than Oprah and Ricki
Lake.
"The characters as they are depicted in sitcoms and hospital and police dramas
and mass-market cinema are a lot like self-help," Kramer says. "They contain
some message about what the cultural values are -- that you should be
assertive, that you should leave and not try to reform an alcoholic. There are
all these messages that are the bromides of the culture that are contained in
non-literary storytelling."
Kramer contrasts that superficiality with literary storytelling, which he
finds to be far closer to life as experienced. A New Yorker short story
may not offer the comforting predictability of a Seinfeld episode, but
it is far more honest in its characterizations -- ambiguous but honest.
"The message of literary fiction is that life and, parenthetically, your own
situation, are as complex as you imagine them to be," Kramer suggests.
You won't get the final word about a perplexing relationship by skipping to
the last chapter of Should You Leave?, as you might with a novel. But if
Dr. Kramer succeeds in his book, his readers will have a greater respect for
their own hard questions than they will for others' easy answers.
What to do?