Product Description

Drawing on seven years of his own research and the work of other
esteemed Lincoln scholars, Shenk reveals how the sixteenth
president harnessed his depression to fuel his astonishing success.
Lincoln found the solace and tactics he needed to deal with the nation's
worst crisis in the "coping strategies" he had developed over a lifetime
of persevering through depressive episodes and personal tragedies.

With empathy and authority gained from his own experience with
depression, Shenk crafts a nuanced, revelatory account of Lincoln and
his legacy. Based on careful, intrepid research, Lincoln's Melancholy
unveils a wholly new perspective on how our greatest president
brought America through its greatest turmoil.

Shenk relates Lincoln's symptoms, including mood swings and
at least two major breakdowns, and offers compelling evidence of the
evolution of his disease, from "major depression" in his twenties and
thirties to "chronic depression" later on. Shenk reveals the treatments
Lincoln endured and his efforts to come to terms with his melancholy,
including a poem he published on suicide and his unpublished writings
on the value of personal—and national—suffering. By consciously
shifting his goal away from personal contentment (which he realized
he could not attain) and toward universal justice, Lincoln gained the
strength and insight that he, and America, required to transcend
profound darkness.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #282075 in Books
• Published on: 2005-09-27
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Hardcover
• 368 pages

From Publishers Weekly
Abe the Emancipator, argues Washington Monthly contributor Shenk, struggled with persistent clinical depression. The first major bout came in his 20s, and the disease dogged him for the rest of his life. That Lincoln suffered from "melancholy" isn't new. Shenk's innovation is in saying, first, that this knowledge can be illuminated by today's understanding of depression and, second, that our understanding of depression can be illuminated by the knowledge that depression was actually a source of Lincoln's greatness. Lincoln's strategies for dealing with it are worth noting today: at least once, he took a popular pill known as the "blue mass"—essentially mercury—and also once purchased cocaine. Further, Lincoln's famed sense of humor, suggests Shenk, may have been compensatory, and he also took refuge in poetry. Unlike Americans today, Shenk notes, 19th-century voters and pundits were more forgiving of psychological and emotional complexity, and a certain prophetic pessimism, he notes, was appropriate to the era of the Civil War. Occasionally, Shenk chases down an odd rabbit trail—an opening meditation on whether Lincoln was gay, for example, is neither conclusive nor apposite. Still, this is sensitive history, with important implications for the present. (Sept. 20)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

From School Library Journal
Adult/High School–In 1835, Lincoln, a likable, gifted law student, was so depressed that his community, who accepted his mental state as a component of his brilliance, put him on a suicide watch. The reaction to his depressions by those who knew him, and by Lincoln himself, is a revelation of 19th-century thinking. In his day, melancholia was seen as a personality type that, along with disadvantages, had attributes such as deep self-reflection. Blessed with insight into his condition, Lincoln used it as a resource, providing self-therapy in an era when professional therapies were scant. The man also was blessed with a sense of humor and, above all, good friendships that alleviated major life traumas, including the loss of two children. This is not a full biography. Emphasis is placed on aspects of Lincolns life that contributed to his mental burdens, such as his estrangement from his father. The value of this book is the authors ability to assess his subjects mental state based on eyewitness accounts and Lincolns own words. Shenk assumes his readers have a grasp of the periods history, making the book challenging, but teens interested in Lincoln or psychology will find the content compelling.–Jo Ann Soriano, Lorton Library, Fairfax County, VA
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

From The Washington Post's Book World/washingtonpost.com
President Buchanan is reported to have said to President-elect Lincoln as they rode down Pennsylvania Avenue on the latter's Inauguration Day: "My dear sir, if you are as happy on entering the White House as I shall feel on returning to Wheatland [Buchanan's Pennsylvania home], you are a happy man indeed." But Abraham Lincoln did not expect to attain "happiness" in the White House or, as this intellectually energetic book shows, anywhere else. Lincoln's Melancholy sounds again the half-forgotten, minor-key background music of his life. Joshua Wolf Shenk rejects the notion that Lincoln got over his melancholy under the demands of the presidency; his Lincoln is never too busy to be gloomy. And, drawing on modern studies of depression, Shenk even has a reference -- humorous, I think -- to "happiness" as a mental disorder.

In 1998, Shenk (a young essayist who frankly mentions his own battles with depression) read a reference to Lincoln's melancholy in an essay on suicide and set about learning more. In his researcher's zeal, he read Lincoln scholars and also sought them out and interviewed them; he went to Lincoln's birthplace and Ford's Theater, stood where Lincoln delivered the "house divided" speech, held in his hand Lincoln's letters to his friend Joshua Speed, saw the fatal assassin's bullet and, since heredity is one ingredient inclining a person to depression, obtained the records admitting Mary Jane Lincoln, Lincoln's father's cousin, to the Illinois Hospital for the Insane in 1867. He even attended a convention of Lincoln impersonators, borrowed a Lincoln suit for himself and joined in. His book has page after page of acknowledgments, to the point that one may be tempted to say: No wonder a writer with this many friends could produce such a strong book.

"The goal," Shenk writes, "has been to see what we can learn about Lincoln by looking at him through the lens of his melancholy, and to see what we can learn about melancholy by looking at it in light of Lincoln's experience." He has effectively cast light in both directions.

Lincoln's sorrowful moods were no secret; contemporaries said things such as, "His melancholy dripped from him as he walked." But that theme was shoved aside by professional historians in the middle of the 20th century, especially by the towering James G. Randall and his wife, Ruth, who led a generation of scholars to produce ungloomy Lincolns. More recent research, restoring oral testimony taken from Lincoln's own time, has brought back into view two "major depressive episodes" in Lincoln's life, as well as providing a cloud of witnesses to his melancholy disposition.

His family history and his youthful experience planted the seed; his mother, said to be intelligent and sad, died when he was 9; he endured other deaths and a distant relationship with his father. Nevertheless, as a youth Lincoln was reported to be not only amiable, bright and funny but also happy. The first serious depressive episode came -- as Shenk says such attacks often do -- in Lincoln's mid-twenties, during the late summer of 1835, when he was 26. Ann Rutledge, a charming young woman often rumored to have been his first love, died, and he seemed particularly distressed when rain fell on her grave; his friends were worried enough about him to set up a suicide watch. The Randalls dismissed Lincoln's love for Ann as a myth, but the next part of the story could not be denied: Something drastic happened in January 1841 that left Lincoln exuding gloom and unable to attend to his duties in the state legislature. The prevailing (Randall) story, which Shenk carefully corrects, had Lincoln splitting up with his fiancé, Mary Todd, on "that fatal first of Jany. '41," falling briefly into depression as a result, getting help from his friend Dr. Aaron Henry, leaving depression behind, reuniting more or less happily with Mary and going on to glory. Except for the glory, Shenk argues, that whole story is mistaken.

We don't know exactly what happened on "that fatal first of Jany.," but Shenk gives it a painstaking examination. The onset of depression involved not only Lincoln's misery about feeling tied to Mary Todd while being much drawn to another young woman, Matilda Edwards, but also professional calamities not usually connected to this episode. Shenk shows that they should be. Lincoln had been a chief proponent in the Illinois assembly of an ambitious scheme to build canals, railroads and roads, which had just then collapsed, destroying the state's economy and, perhaps, his political career. His old friend Speed left town and got married. The weather turned cold. And after Henry's horrific treatment, Lincoln did not just get over his depression. (If Henry followed the aggressive program we know he approved for others, the doctor would have "bled him, purged and puked him, starved him, dosed him with mercury and pepper, rubbed him with mustard, and plunged him in cold water.") He did go on with his life, but with both a new strength of purpose and a new susceptibility to melancholy.

Depression emerging in his mid-twenties, taking a deeper hold in his thirties and staying with him for the rest of his life: That is the story Shenk tells. It is not a story of crisis and recovery but of crisis and coping -- and of that coping leading to stunning creativity. The link between depression and artistic creativity is often affirmed; why not also (asks Shenk) with a creative politician like Lincoln? "In his mid-forties, the dark soil of his melancholy began to bear fruit," Shenk writes. "When Lincoln threw himself into the fight against the extension of slavery, the same qualities that had long brought him so much trouble played a role in his great work."

The book's title is carefully chosen. The older word "melancholy" has more flavor than our depressing modern word "depression"; it also had a broader meaning, including some positive aspects that Shenk finds illustrated by Lincoln. The president treated his melancholy not as some mysterious mental invasion by spooks but as something he could deal with in a rational way. That yielded an intense concentration on a high purpose. It also made him austerely realistic. "Lincoln saw the world as a deeply flawed, even tragic, place where imperfect people had to make the best of poor materials," Shenk argues. "The ethic that he proposed for his country -- continued struggle to realize an ideal, knowing that it could never be perfectly attained -- was the same ethic he had used to govern himself."

"Depressive realists" like Shenk (and Lincoln) would expect there to be a touch of the negative in a review, so I provide the following: First, sometimes this almost seems to be a pro-depression book; second, sometimes Lincoln's depression seems to be presented as the sole source of his greatness; and third, some readers, coming across page after page about gloom, misery, melancholy and depression, will say, "Enough already."

Shenk argues that the suffering that Lincoln "endured lent him clarity, discipline, and faith in hard times." But surely suffering does not do all that unless there is something strong that the suffering prods into action. Lots of people suffer; not all of them become great. I would suggest that Lincoln had intellectual and moral self-confidence, deep conscientiousness, a powerful desire to achieve something worthy, a romantic idea of his country and an unusual sympathy for creatures in distress -- all independent of his being depressed.

On the other hand, by treating Lincoln from this angle, Shenk does gain a dimension that not all Lincoln books achieve: Looking at his subject's darkness also means approaching his depth. Shenk deals well with the recently discovered Lincoln poem on suicide ("Yes! I've resolved the deed to do,/ And this the place to do it"); with Lincoln's alleged homosexuality; and with Lincoln's humor, a not-so-easy topic that the author tackles with the seriousness it deserves. Lincoln's Melancholy poignantly captures the subtle last phase of the president's life -- when his belief in an ordering Providence became more pronounced, when he insisted that "events have controlled me" even as he vigorously did his duty. "In his strange mix of deference to divine authority and willful exercise of his own meager power," Shenk writes, Lincoln achieved not happiness but "transcendent wisdom, the delicate fruit of a lifetime of pain."

Reviewed by William Lee Miller
Copyright 2005, The Washington Post. All Rights Reserved.

Customer Reviews

Facinating Look at A.Lincoln
I can truthfully say that this is the first book I have ever read about A. Lincoln. I loved it! It had intimate deatils and insight looks into the depression of the former President himself. I would reccommend this book to anyone wanting to read something "different, appeal'n" on Lincoln. Great book.

Insightful and Respectul Treatment of Lincoln
Carl Becker said that every man is his own historian, and so it seems fitting that Lincoln be reinterpreted in the light of modern approaches to depression and mental illness. What is most admirable about this book is the author's respectful approach to Lincoln and the past; he insists on viewing Lincoln's behaviors in the context of the mores and culture of his time, which were far different from those prevailing today. The author persuasively argues that there was a romantic connotation to melancholy back then. This, combined with the cultural acceptance of greater emotion from single young men, explains some of Lincoln's publicly expressed emotional troubles as a young man

On the other hand, the author insists on defining Lincoln as suffering two "breakdowns." It's not clear what relevance this modern term has, nor can the author distinguish between mental illness and the culturally acceptable level of melancholy and love-sickness a young man was permitted to manifest at the time.

In short, given the lack of data (most notably the inability to interview the subject, Mr. Lincoln) and the different culture back then, why even try to import these modern day notions of depression to the 1830's-1860's?

Still, the book does make three points exceptionally well, which makes this a very worthwhile effort.

First, he destroys the idiotic notions that Lincoln was gay by virtue of close emotional relationships with men that were permitted and encouraged by the culture back then. Superficial modern day notions of sexual identity have no place in a different time with different (and perhaps healthier) approaches toward the permissibility of emotional intimacy between men.

Second, he argues that Lincoln's struggles with melancholy were part of his larger struggles against adversity that toughened him up for the greatest trial faced by any American President since Washington. This is an old theme, but it is well constructed here. On paper, hugely successful men like Buchanan, Jefferson Davis, and General McClellan should have been the ones to lead successfully during this crisis. But in some ways their previous success was a curse. The depressive's realism and ability to solider on during adversity is perhaps far better preparation. A fascinating point and one that is completley lost in modern Presidential races.

Third, the author argues that Lincoln's mental makeup allowed him to resist the compromises and stop gap measures that seduced men like Buchanan, Douglas, and Crittenden. Lincoln saw that the country had to recognize the evil of slavery and put it on the path to ultimate extinction. This was, of course, Lincoln's greatest insight, though I'm not convinced that his melancholia necessarily predisposed him to accept it. But there is some appeal in the contention that depressives can be curiously more disposed to realism in a world that is frequently evil and unfair.

This is an insightful book, though the ability to analyze Lincoln's psyche given the absence of data and intervening culutural changes is, of course, a doomed venture.

Audio Version - Excellent!
Shenk's study of Lincoln and depression is fascinating, and Richard Davidson does an excellent narration. I found the audiobook entertaining and thought-provoking.

Shenk provides a detailed biography of Lincoln interspersed with musings on psychology and related topics. He points out that modern culture has unfairly criticized depressives as negative people, with only a minority of scientists pointing out that depressed people may actually be more realistic than optimists. In light of the threats facing mid-19th century America, Lincoln was more in touch with what was likely to happen than his happier peers. Shenk also shows that Lincoln's long-standing depression contributed to some of his outstanding character traits, such as his desire to be of service to his country and an unwavering determination to complete necessary tasks, no matter how unpleasant. This made him strong enough to lead his country through an incredibly bloody war.

Shenk finishes the book with a discussion on Lincoln's biographers and how historians inject their own prejudices into published research. The final CD concludes with an interesting interview with the author.