Slate just published a review of Milton Rokeach's "The Three Christs of Ypsilanti," and it was not very interesting. The book appears to be a sort of philosophical justification for why a 1950s psychologist thought it might be interesting to put three schizophrenics who each believed they were Jesus into a ward together. That might've been interesting!
Instead, the 1950s psychologist lies about the schizophrenics' interactions with each other in order to make his experiment "meaningful." Then he fucks with the schizophrenics, sending them condescending letters from make-believe people in order to try and get them to stop believing they are Jesus. Then the schizophrenics stop reading the pretend letters and go on believing they are Jesus. Then, apparently, the book is over. Good job, book review! Running out to Powell's right now!
The part of the book that appears to be lies follows early meetings between the schizophrenics. Apparently, they weren't happy that they all shared the same identity.
"You oughta worship me, I'll tell you that!" one of the Christs yelled. "I will not worship you! You're a creature! You better live your own life and wake up to the facts!" another snapped back. "No two men are Jesus Christs. … I am the Good Lord!" the third interjected, barely concealing his anger.
This is clearly made-up nonsense directed at a reading audience that, logically enough for the 1950s, had probably never met a schizophrenic. (An audience that could see how Jesus 1 could walk up to Jesus 2 and say, "Hello, my name is Jesus. I like being the only son of God," instead of saying something like, "Mother says to stay away from the parasites. That tornado weapon was glinting?") It is intended to introduce a narrative about how each of us continuously constructs our identities: through logical interaction with our environment.
Its message is similar to Voltaire's story of Simon Morin (also mentioned in the Slate piece): Morin was a Christ-identified schizophrenic condemned to share a "mad-house" with "another fool, who called himself God the Father." Voltaire writes: "Simon Morin was so struck with the folly of his companion, that he acknowledged his own, and appeared for a time to have recovered his senses." So they let Morin out, and then, d'oh!, he remembered he was Jesus again, and then they burned him alive. These narratives emphasize Enlightenment logicality while ridiculing fanaticism, reminding us to ask questions toward finding truth, including the truth of who we are, in order to better ourselves and our society.
Which reminds me: Talking about mental illness is always talking about morality. It's always about "shoulds." What should we believe about this? What should be done about that (in order to uphold these values at the expense of those)?
Just sayin'.
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