Septimus and the Portrayal of Mental Health in Mrs. Dalloway

    Mental health is a central part of Mrs. Dalloway, as Virginia Woolf channels her own experiences with mental health into the book. Septimus is probably the most clear example of this, suffering from poor mental health eventually leading to suicide. Septimus is Virgina Woolf’s representation of being suicidally depressed, as she attempted suicide in real life and Septimus unfortunately successfully commits suicide in the book. Septimus’s mental struggles represent the difficulties WW1 veterans faced in the early 20s, only a few years after the war had ended. As discussed in class, Septimus is meant to represent the more severe mentally ill character as compared to Clarissa Dalloway, who while also suffering from mental illness does not suffer to the same degree as Septimus does. Virginia Woolfe clearly has a very personal connection with Septimus Smith, as he is inspired by Woolfe’s own experiences. Septimus is used as a character to highlight the general mistreatment that mentally ill people had at the time. While this mistreatment is naturally frustrating, this frustration is further emphasized given the fact that he is a war veteran who fought in the world’s deadliest conflict at the time. He essentially fought to preserve his home’s society yet when he returns, he is neglected by the very same society he fought to protect.
    The ignorance of mental health at the time can be seen with the doctors: Holmes and Bradshaw. Holmes consistently downplays Septimus’s issues. For example, he says that when he was feeling a little depressed, all he did was go down to the music hall and play golf. He suggests Septimus should do something similar, believing that would solve the incredibly complex nature of his mental illnesses. He chalks up sleeplessness, fears, headaches, and dreams as being nothing more than nerve symptoms. Septimus makes it very clear that he doesn’t want to see Holmes again yet Holmes still forces himself past Rezia to talk to Septimus. The other doctor, Bradshaw, only sees Septimus through a clinical lens instead of a human being in pain by saying that his proportions are off. Bradshaw also downplays Septimus’s mental struggles, saying “We all have our moments of depression” and he firmly believes that what he is doing is helping Septimus. The way both Holmes and Bradshaw brush off the complexities of Septimus’s mental health is meant to be incredibly frustrating to the reader. His cure also involves losing one’s individuality and essentially, conforming to his will. This happened to Bradshaw’s wife, who eventually conformed to Bradshaw’s will, becoming totally submissive to him. This is how Bradshaw wants to treat his patients as well. This shows how frustratingly ignorant medical professionals at the time were, and how neglected mental health really was in 1920s society.
    The treatment of mental health and the general stigma around it has evolved over the past 100 years, to the point that I don’t think characters such as Bradshaw or Holmes would be as common anymore (although there probably still are a few left). 1920s society is obviously very different to our current modern day society that we’re all living through and the treatment of mental health is one of the biggest differences shown in the book.

The Mezzanine: Baker's Thorough Analysis of OCD

    The Mezzanine is an exploration of human consciousness, centered around the thoughts and details of a white-collar office worker as he rides the escalator to his job. His mind fixates on the tiniest, most minuscule details that do not matter at all in the grand scheme of things. However, while many may think that Nicholson Baker is simply trying to be quirky with his unique writing style in The Mezzanine, I believe there lies an in-depth analysis of a man suffering with extreme obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD). Howie’s never-ending fixation on trivial details, ranging from milk bottles to shoelaces, reveals his struggle with OCD as his mind never seems to stop spiraling into seemingly endless inner-commentary about random subjects that most people do not care about. Nicholson Baker does a perfect job at capturing the core essence of OCD, by portraying Howie’s mind as being stuck in this cycle that can not stop constantly thinking.
    Baker’s writing style mimics the obsessive nature of OCD, as there are several footnotes placed throughout the book that lead to very OCD-esque tangents that completely diverge away from the main narrative. This is meant to display the potential disruptive and even damaging effects OCD can have on people, by constantly distracting and unhealthily obsessing over objects and items that don’t really matter. However, one could argue that Howie could simply just be blessed by only having to worry about how to tie his shoelaces and the nature of proper bathroom etiquette. While this may be true to some extent, I would argue that Howie’s obsessive nature on minute details is almost unhealthy, as I think that kind of obsession can potentially be damaging and seriously disrupt the daily flow of life in a person. I think the most revealing part of the book is how unhealthy obsessive Howie is when on page 127, he forms a chart in his head consisting of the subjects of his thoughts and how many times those thoughts occurred per year. Again, you could use this as an example that this dude literally has NOTHING to worry about to the point that he is just so bored that this is what he does for fun but I don’t feel that this sort of behavior is necessarily healthy in an individual.
    While The Mezzanine can be interpreted as just a boring book about a guy on his lunch break on the escalator, I think there is more to this novel than meets the eye. I believe The Mezzanine is meant to be a thorough analysis and exploration about the human mind and specifically, how OCD impacts the mental process of a human being. Baker’s introspective narrative showcases the potential challenges (or benefits?) that one could have if they suffer from OCD.

Works Cited

Baker, Nicholson. The Mezzanine. New York, Weidenfeld & Nicholson, 1988.