Writing about the history of psychiatry has often resembled a battle of ideologies. While early historians of the field were content to trace the advance of science and civilization in the treatment of the menally ill, revisionists, who have seen psychiatry as a nexus of social, political and economic issues, attempted to turn these earlier ' whig' interpretations on their head. Michel Foucault, perhaps the most prominent revisionist, candidly expressed his motives for entering into the fray:
For me, it was a matter of
this: if, concerning a science like theoretical physics or
organic chemistry one poses
the problem of its relations with the political and
economic structures of society,
isn't one posing an excessively complicated question"
Doesn't it set the threshold
of possible explanations impossimbly high? But on the
other hand, if one takes
a form of knowledge [savoir] like psychiatry, won't the
question be much easier
to relolve, since the epistemological profile of psychiatry
is a low one and psychiatric
practice is inked with a whole range of institutions,
economic requirements and
political issues of social regulation? Couldn't the
interweaving of the effects
of poewr and knowledge be grasped with greater certainty
in the case of a science
as 'dubious' as psychiatry.*
Animated by views such as this, revisionists fashioned an image of psychiatry
which focused on the relationship of psychiatry to society-at-large and
emphasized its social control functions over its therapeutic pretentions.
At one time, anyone attempting
to write about the history of psychiatry was tempted to be drawn into the
battle between the whigs and the revisionists. As Nancy Tomes wisely noted
at the beginning of her book, however, both of these views tend to reduce
psychiatry to one sterotype or another. What was missing from both whig
and revisionist interpretations was a careful study of the daily practice
of psychiatry and not simply what the published record showed that psychiatrists
and others may have said. It was precisely Professor Tomes' intellient
effort to look at the daily life of psychiatrists and patients at the
Pennsylvania Hospital for the Insane during the nineteenth century
that made A Generous Confidence one of the most enriching works
in the history of psychiatry at the time it was published. Many books have
since been published in a similar spirit, but Tomes' book was certainly
one of those that pointed the way.
By taking a close look at
the life of Thomas
Story Kirkbride, who was the superintendent of the Pennsylvania
Hospital for the Insane from its founding in 1841 until his death in
1883, she was able to open a window on the treatment of the mentally ill
which made simple stereotypes more difficult to maintain. In doing this
she was fortunate that the records of the hospital were unusually well
preserved, but her resourcefulness in using these records cannot be overstated.
We are also fortunate that
in choosing to write about Kirkbride, Tomes selected one of the most influential
American psychiatrists of the period. This choice allows a study of one
man and his institution to reflect, quite convincingly, the rise and decline
of asylum treatment of the insane. In addition to managing his asylum,
Kirkbride was also a founder and leading member of the Association of American
Superintendents of Asylums for the Insane [the forerunner of the American
Psychiatric Association]. His writings about asylum architecture were highly
influential in an ear that took the moral influences of asylum design very
seriously. His biography is also of interest because, as a leading advocate
of 'moral treatment' who remained professionally active into the 1880s,
he lived to see and struggle against the severe criticism which this treatment
received in the 1870s. Because of Tomes' approach, however, the reader
is not only able to form a picture of the controversies which swirled around
asylum practice but also of tensions within the asylum. Especially interesting
are her discussions of the various ways patients resisted Kirkbride's efforts
and her portrayals of particular patients such as Wiley Williams, who shot
kirkbride in the head, and Ebenezer
Haskell, who made a cause celebre of his contention that he
had been unjustly committed.
Perhaps the most interesting
feature of this book is Tomes'' discussion of Kirkbride's efforts to 'cultivate
his patron's generous confidence' in asylum treatment. Arguing that the
rise of the asylum corresponded with changes in families' willingness and
ability to care for disturbed members, Tomes overcomes the dichotomy between
views of the asylum as merely controlling disturbed members of society
or simply providing care for patients. Families wanted both control and
care for their relatives and Kirkbride attempted to convince them, in both
his rhetoric and his practice, that his institution would provide them
with what they wanted. Particularly illuminating in this regard is Tomes'
discussion of Kirkbride's preoccupation with architectural details. while
previous historians wrote off such preoccupations as reflecting merely
managerial concerns, Tomes shows, quite convincingly, that Kirkbride was
able to use his descriptions of thephysical structure of the asylum to
convince families that it was an institution that they could trust. Through
her use of asylum records and letters, she is also able to show that Kirkbride's
practice was often quite effective in restoring patients to health. Tomes'
ability to convey how it was that moral treatment healed is a particularly
rewarding feature of this book.
Well indexed and annotated
and complete with helpful photographs and an appendix with a statistical
profile of the asylum, this is an eminently readable book. More than that
it is a book which has been important in helping us transcend earlier battle
lines and arrive at a more accurate picture of asylum treatment in the
nineteenth century.
This is a revision of a review originally written in 1985. Edward M. Brown
*Michel Foucault, Power/knowledge: Selected Interviews and other Writings
1972-1977,
edited by Colin Gordon [New York, 1980, p 108