cool idea of a memoir and a worth it one. our protagonist/author, Suzanne, is well-spoken and thoughtful in the memoir and in her telling.

"They'll keep you thirty days or until your insurance runs out. Then you're cured." It is August 1992. Suzanne Scanlon writes her own story, that of a Freshman woman at Barnard, not quite fitting in, becoming desperately lonely, her main friend a guy she knows who talks suicide with her. Ultimately, she tries it and ends up hospitalized for several years. Suzanne is thoughtful, well-read, traumatized by the death of her mother when she was eight and her father's remarriage and neglect. She weaves the story of her "treatments" and her eventual discharge and ultimately finding a way to stop using hospitals. She reflects beautifully on the many writers who shared their mental illness/breakdowns with us over the years or who featured fictional characters in need of care for their mental illnesses. Think: Beloved, The Yellow Wallpaper, The Bell Jar, Slouching Towards Bethlehem, Girl Interrupted.

Scanlon acknowledges she was ill. One of her former psychiatrists told her her hospitalization lasted so long because it was the best they could do at the time. Prozac was new. For two years, she continued to have periods of partial or inpatient hospitalization after she left the state psychiatric hospital. She notes she had to undo the identity formed by her illness and hospitalization. She comments that formerly long term mental hospital patients are known to regress and require re-hospitalization as a result of institutionalization. It could be more difficult to be out than in. What made it possible for her to live outside those walls was her own personal decision not to commit suicide.

Ultimately a multi-page bibliography at the end of this memoir reminds us that much has been effectively written of women whose mental health is treated differently, ineffectively, and that they are observed as crazy in a different way from men. That they may, like Suzanne be "treated" too long. She comments, "I think that is part of what we mean by mental illness. What you can't help. … It is either excess or rigidity and often both." She notes she was "crazy" because she ate only one plain baked potato a day and was described as having bizarre eating habits by a nurse who ate only a pack of rice cakes a day. She notes that the word hysteria, the early term for "crazy women," came from a theory that movement of the uterus cased the symptoms. It means "wandering uterus" and goes back to Hippocrates. A number of recent writers I am familiar with, and a movement in the UK Scanlon references, are looking at doing away with the various diagnostic labels placed on mental illness and just providing the care needed for the symptoms and illness a person experiences. This rings so true.

As a book fanatic, I loved, loved, loved every literary reference with recognition and a resounding, "Yes!" Scanlon was an English major and she teaches writing. She has much to give and is a wonderful writer. This book flew for me. I went back for more of the substance later and am just writing this some months after reading Committed. She particularly loves Audrey Lorde's poetry and quotes it as she wraps up her memoir. I need to read Lorde. So, to me this is a hugely meaningful book that I commend to you.

wow. thank you netgalley and vintage for the digital arc, i fear this book changed me <3

committed: on meaning and madwomen details suzanne scanlon's experience in and out of psychiatric treatment, most heavily focusing on her almost three years in the New York State Psychiatric Institute. while navigating the grief she experiences after the death of her mother and her worsening mental state, suzanne finds solace in the suffering of the literary figures who came before her.

the way scanlon weaves her own personal experience with the experience of the "madwomen" whose writing shaped her is so brilliant to me, and i think it is something to which a lot of readers can relate. mental illness can feel so isolating, and oftentimes we (i'm speaking for all of us, it's my review so i can do that) can only identify ourselves in the writing of those who suffered through it all first. so many of my reviews are just "this author put words to feelings i could never articulate," and this book is just that sentiment over and over again.

to be clear: this is not an easy read. please proceed with caution. scanlon is asking a lot of the reader, but not necessarily in a bad way (i actually think more authors should be asking more of their readers, not everything needs to be an easy read, but that's a convo for a different day lol). there is no hand-holding here. it's painful and it sucks and unfortunately that is just how it has to be. i left this book feeling like i needed to get a therapist, so you know...just be ready for that! i also left this book with a list of authors to check out and books to read so that balances out, right?

mostly, i am just glad this book exists. i read it over several bus rides, and i feel like a more dedicated reading experience would better serve the book's intentions (or make my mental health worse...only one way to find out lol).

This memoir offers a raw and unflinching look into life inside a mental institution, providing an honest portrayal of the challenges and humanity found within its walls. The author's vulnerability and courage shine through as they recount their experiences with striking clarity and emotion. The narrative is both unsettling and deeply moving, shedding light on the complexities of mental health and the flawed systems meant to support it. A powerful read that challenges stigma and offers insight into the realities of living with mental illness.

Committed was a really interesting read looking at mental illness and how women are treated. I would read more from this author.

Committed: On Meaning and Madwomen by Suzanne Scanlon is a raw and masterful memoir. It chronicles her journey through madness and recovery after a suicide attempt during her college years. In her decades-long recovery, she finds solace in the works of women writers like Charlotte Perkins Gilman and Sylvia Plath, whose stories of madness and self-actualization resonate with her own. Committed reclaims the madwoman as a symbol of insight and transcendence, offering a profound look at mental health and women's literature.

This was absolutely gorgeously written! It was clear that it's a story the author has long needed to tell. It ended up being something different than what I was expecting, which was more exploration of her literary predecessors. Although it did cover those (very well) it's much more memoir. It can get a little too in-depth or too much, but it reminded me so much of being a young woman in New York City during formative years and realizing all isn't right with one's mental health. I would have liked to have known more about how she was able to remain institutionalized for so long, since as other providers rightly comment later in her life that's pretty unusual.

So struck by the writing and observations, I highlighted so many passages that I want to remember. I also found it strangely inspiring, and despite some of the heavy topics it doesn't bog down emotionally. The author obviously waited long enough to write a memoir with enough distance and consideration of her experience.

Susanne Scanlon has written a raw intimate memoir of her mental illness the time she was committed.She blends her illness with that of other authors.A really interesting eye opening read.#netgalley #knopf

Suzanne Scanlon's memoir reflects on her process of understanding her illness in the discourse of a mad woman. Dealing with the grief of losing her mother as a young child and years spent in a psych ward in the 1990s, Scanlon discovers herself through her creative writing practice and finds solace among fellow troubled women writers like Plath, Duras, and Woolfe. Committed is ultimately about the importance of owning the narrative. There is importance to sharing the truth of ourselves, the truth of our life, our illness, of taking control of the narrative so that we shape them and are not shaped by them. It was not an easy read, but I recommend.

Thank you to the publishers and NetGalley for this eARC!

such a unique blend of memoir + exploration of other authors’ writing like I have never seen before. the memoir portions are extremely fragmented which I thought would bother me at first but as the book went on, I began to love it. I have recommended this to so many people since finishing it!

"Committed" fuses personal narrative and literary analysis to expertly relate the experiences of women writers and creators across generations who have battled the medical establishments and societies that attempt to mold, compact, and diminish them. From Virginia Woolf to Sylvia Plath to Sinéad O'Connor, Scanlon traces the legacy of madwomen and the costs of their rebellion.

Suzanne Scanlon was a lonely student at Barnard when, in 1992, she was committed to New York State Psychiatric Institute after a suicide attempt. Scanlon was variously diagnosed with chronic depression, major depression, bipolar disorder and, most commonly, dysthymia. During her commitment, Scanlon reports that “[t]hey needed me to get better and instead I got better at being sick. I got better at being a mental patient. I got better at planning my death and better at speaking to psychiatrists.”

Scanlon, whose mother died of breast cancer when she was 8 years old, experienced chaos and neglect when her father quickly remarried, and she and her three siblings had come to an “unspoken agreement” that they “would not speak of her, of the mother who left.” She reports in a stream of consciousness about her stay (she wrestles with using the word “live” since her hospitalization “wasn’t about living”) at the nineteenth century asylum (where second hand smoke is not mentioned) from March of 1992 through August of 1994, but she also addresses more broadly women’s mental health and the patriarchy. She begins with “hysteria,” the first disease attributable to women, the wildly popular late nineteenth century “rest cure” which was considered the best practice for treating all sorts of nervous disorders, and multiple personality disorders (“recovered memories” were in vogue when Scanlon was hospitalized and she was urged to “remember” abuse at the hands of her father and brothers). She has a unique perspective about social media, reasoning that “[i]n the midst of despair or loneliness now, a person might post something to social media and receive an instant response, and while those posts surely don’t always relieve symptoms, there’s some possibility of connection.”

It’s not surprising that Scanlon, currently a professor of creative writing at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago and an artist-in-residence at Northwestern University, discusses the works of numerous authors, the usual suspects, such as Sylvia Plath, Virginia Woolf and Charlotte Perkins Gilman, but also James Baldwin, Flannery O’Connor, Henry James, Margaret Atwood, Sandra Cisneros and Raymond Carver. She has said in interviews that “I came to imagine these writers as my mother, as the books my mother would have written. This is all in the realm of fantasy but it was and remains quite motivating to me.”

Scanlon writes “about how I lost my mind. I am writing about how I was institutionalized for many years. I am writing about that space the writer occupies, that balance between sanity and insanity.” Her book is painfully honest and raw. While not a redemptive narrative, Scanlon seems to have learned to live with her brokenness. Thank you Vintage and Net Galley for an advance copy of this difficult but important read.

Technically 4.5 stars, but I’m rounding up.

I’m no stranger to writing on mental illness, specifically women’s mental illness, and I’m willing to call Committed the best memoir on the topic I’ve read in recent years. Weaving together her years-long experience at the New York State Psychiatric Institute, the factors that led to her hospitalization, and discussions of women writers who’ve suffered similar fates, Scanlon managed to write a book that transformed my perspective of my own mental illness—not an easy feat.

Unlike memoirs along the lines of Elizabeth Wurtzel’s Prozac Nation or Marya Hornbacher’s Wasted, Committed benefits greatly from the 25-plus years that passed between Scanlon’s hospitalization and her writing of the book: Her perspective is mature, wise, and self aware, and she doesn’t glamorize her experience as writers sometimes tend to do. Rather, Scanlon is curious to understand her time at the institution, as well as how it subsequently shaped her life and identity as a “madwoman” or “ex-patient.” From the start, I was happy join her on this journey.

The sections that stood out as particularly striking were those in which Scanlon discusses her relationships with other mentally ill women writers, among them Sylvia Plath, Shulamith Firestone, and Janet Frame. These relationships are deeply personal, and I applaud Scanlon for teasing them out so thoroughly; I’ve had similar affinities for long-dead women writers (Virginia Woolf, most notably), and have as yet been unable to articulate what exactly draws me to them so strongly. In these passages, I see a lineage of female writers forming, which is nothing short of thrilling.

My criticisms of Committed are largely in regard to pacing and format. The narrative lost momentum at times, and some pages seemed to drag on a tad too long. I was also unable to discern a clear logic behind the book’s organization: I don’t mind jumping back and forth in time, but couldn’t anticipate when this might happen, which left me confused more than once. That said, my praise of Committed far outweighs my criticism, and I’m happy to forgive these flaws.

Though the memoir’s subject matter is not light, I highly recommend Committed—to women, to writers, to patients past and present, and to mental healthcare workers as well. They have a lot to answer for.

Thank you to NetGalley and Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage, and Anchor for the advanced copy!

An incredibly captivating memoir about a woman who spent many years living in a psychiatric institution. There’s a heavy focus on female writers and how their portrayal of mental illness in literature helped the author understand her own struggles. This was raw and often heartbreaking with an important message about learning to overcome being labeled by a diagnosis.

This may be one of my most favorite nonfiction reads.

I first started this book thinking it would be like Prozac Nation but to make that comparison would be reductive of both Scanlon and Wurtzel's respective works.

How Scanlon feels about the works she references is how I feel for Committed. Somehow this collection manages to be deeply personal without feeling too self-indulgent. There is something different about Scanlon's prose-- there is almost a detached element to it. I'm not sure how to best describe it, you'd really have to experience it for yourself.

Committed shocked me and moved me. It made me feel incredibly uncomfortable and incredibly seen. I enjoyed the disjointed timeline, jumping from past to present. It conveyed how impossible it must feel to tell such a story linearly.

Some of Scanlon’s opinions challenged me. To be honest, I’m still digesting how I feel about it all, and I think I will be for a long time. Overall I appreciated Scanlon’s critique of the mental health industry, especially in the 90s. Mental health is complex, and oftentimes the people suffering the most can end up being dehumanized and even commodified. I look forward to seeing what Scanlon does next.

Scanlon reflects on her years-long hospitalization in a psychiatric institute in the 1990s, situating her experiences in the larger context of feminism, madness, and women writers. The part of me that shares an interest in critical theory, feminist literature, and the history of mental institutions found this quite captivating. I could very much relate to the author's reflections even if I did not experience it myself.

However, the memoir is long and not the best organized. Beyond being a thoughtful, intellectual reflection, I'm not convinced Committed adds anything specific to the canon of feminist reflections on madness that hasn't already been covered.

Thank you to NetGalley and Vintage for the e-arc.

A captivating read. I inhaled this (being of the same generation (Gen X) as the author). Who controls the narrative frame of your mental health? What will we do to receive the care we need? How can turning inward also be a means of communication?

DNF at 20%. This sounded interesting at first, but it just wasn't really doing much for me unfortunately.

Reflecting on her years spent at New York's State Psychiatric Institute after a failed suicide attempt, Suzanne Scanlon's memoir reflects on her process of understanding her illness in the discourse of a mad woman. Within Committed, Scanlon shares the importance of owning the narrative to deconstruct the shame and self-loathing others can easily make us internalize.

Dealing with the grief of losing her mother as a young child and years spent in a psych ward in the 1990s, Scanlon discovers herself through her creative writing practice and finds solace among fellow troubled women writers like Plath, Duras, and Woolfe. The literature insights, for me, really curated a greater understanding of the context of how women's mental health has been narrated over the decades.

Committed is ultimately about the importance of owning the narrative. There is importance to sharing the truth of ourselves, the truth of our life, our illness, of taking control of the narrative so that we shape them and are not shaped by them.

The subject matter does not lend itself to being an easy read, but it's a necessary one. The timeline does skip around, so I lost a sense of time every so often. Nevertheless, I've added a list of books and titles from the authors mentioned that I'm looking forward to exploring.

Thank you to the publishers and NetGalley for an ARC of Committed.