Hurry Down Sunshine: A Father's Memoir of Love and Madness

by Michael Greenberg

Overview

“Hurry Down Sunshine is about tenacity and tenderness...but mostly it’s about love.” —OPRAH WINFREY

AN AMAZON BEST BOOK OF THE MONTH PICK

This international bestseller is an extraordinary family story and an exceptionally powerful memoir about coping withbipolar disorder, now with a new afterword for the ten-year anniversary edition.

Michael Greenberg recounts in vivid detail the remarkable summer when, at the age of fifteen, his daughter was struck mad. It begins with Sally's sudden visionary crack-up on the streets of Greenwich Village, and continues, among other places, in the out-of-time world of a Manhattan psychiatric ward during the city's sweltering summer. It is a tale of a family broken open, then painstakingly, movingly stitched together again.

Greenberg's unforgettable cast of characters includes an unconventional psychiatrist, an Orthodox Jewish patient, a manic Classics professor, a movie producer, and a landlord with literary aspirations. Unsentimental, nuanced, and deeply humane, Hurry Down Sunshine is essential reading in the literature of affliction with such classics as Girl, Interrupted and An Unquiet Mind.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781590519813
Publisher:	Other Press, LLC
Publication date:	12/04/2018
Pages:	256
Product dimensions:	5.10(w) x 7.50(h) x 0.70(d)

About the Author

Michael Greenberg is the author of the memoir Hurry Down Sunshine (Other Press, 2008), published in sixteen countries and chosen as one of the best books of 2008 by Time, the San Francisco Chronicle, Amazon.com, and Library Journal. He is a columnist for the Times Literary Supplement. His writing has appeared in such varied places as O, The Oprah Magazine and The New York Review of Books. He lives in New York.

Read an Excerpt

Sally emerges from her room in a thin hospital gown, snap buttons, no laces or ties. She suddenly looks ageless. The only other time I’ve seen her in a hospital was the night she was born. By that point in our marriage her mother and I were like two people drinking alone in a bar. Not hostile, just miles apart. Yet when Sally appeared, a huge optimism came over us, a physical optimism, primitive and momentarily blind. She was her own truth, complete to herself, so beautifully formed that the jaded maternity nurses marveled at what perfection had just slid into the world. Though she has never set foot in a psychiatric hospital, there is the tacit sense from Sally that she is understood here, she is where she belongs. She acts as if a great burden has been lifted from her. At the same time she is more elevated than ever: feral, glitter-eyed. In 1855 a friend of Robert Schumann observed him at the piano in an asylum near Bonn: “like a machine whose springs are broken, but which still tries to work, jerking convulsively.” Sally appears to be heading toward this maimed point of perpetual motion. Her sole concern is to get her pen back, which has been confiscated with most of her other belongings–belt, matches, shoelaces, keys, anything with glass, and her comb with half its teeth snapped off by her potent hair. She initiates an agitated negotiation with the nurses, which immediately threatens to boil over into a serious scene. The nurses confer like referees after a disputed call. Then they grant her a felt-tip marker and march her back to her room.

What People are Saying About This

The psychotic break of his fifteen-year-old daughter is the grit around which Michael Greenberg forms the pearl that is Hurry Down Sunshine. It is a brilliant, taut, entirely original study of a suffering child and a family and marriage under siege. I know of no other book about madness whose claim to scientific knowledge is so modest and whose artistic achievement is so great. –-Janet Malcolm, author of The Silent Woman: Sylvia Plath & Ted Hughes and The Journalist and the Murderer

One of the most gripping and disturbingly honest books I have ever read. The courage Michael Greenberg shows in narrating the story of his adolescent daughter’s descent into psychosis is matched by his acute understanding of how alone each of us, sane or manic, is in our processing of reality and our attempts to get others to appreciate what seems important to us. This is a remarkable memoir. –-Phillip Lopate, author of Two Marriages and Waterfront: A Journey Around Manhattan

Editorial Reviews

Lucid, realistic, compassionate, and illuminating…In its detail, depth, richness, and sheer intelligence, Hurry Down Sunshine will be recognized as a classic of its kind.” —Oliver Sacks, New York Review of Books
 
“[Hurry Down Sunshine] is about tenacity and tenderness, feeling helpless but being present, about cracking up, then finding the wherewithal to glue the jagged pieces of your mind back together again. But mostly it’s about love.” —Oprah Winfrey, in her letter to readers in O, The Oprah Magazine
 
“Touching, warmly intimate, and unsparing…Like the best fiction, this memoir has transcended the merely particular and eccentric to constitute a kind of hard-won art.” —Joyce Carol Oates, Times Literary Supplement
 
“Triumphant…Greenberg renders the details of his daughter’s breakdown with lyrical precision.” —Washington Post

“[A] remarkable account.” —New York Times Book Review

“There is a dancing, dazzling siren seductress at the heart of this book and…[it is] madness itself…The startling associative imagery that gives Greenberg’s writing its power is like a domesticated version of the madness that nearly carried away his daughter’s life.” —Time

“This memoir of a family crisis captures the grief that transformed their lives…readers come away with a sense of the intractable nature of psychosis and the courage it requires for patients like Sally, whose struggles continue, merely to live.” —People

“[A] finely observed memoir…written in delicately episodic style. Vivid.” —Wall Street Journal
 
“Beautifully written…The literary precedents Greenberg turns to are Joyce and Robert Lowell…There are echoes of Virginia Woolf, too…Sally’s psychiatrist calls…the mind falling in love with its delusions…‘the evil seduction.’ But Greenberg can understand the impulse, and it’s this that gives Hurry Down Sunshine such power.” —The Guardian

“[Hurry Down Sunshine’s] fundamental strength arises from Greenberg’ s insistence on facing the demons that held his girl in their dark thrall. Sally’ s descent and tentative return form the map for this story; Greenberg’s courage lies in his willingness to follow her down that terrible path, no matter where it leads.” —Bookforum

“A story of almost mythic power…A compelling narrative about how one family coped with madness…Tough and lyrical…Greenberg brings a true writer’s sensibility to every line.” —The Times (UK)

“[A] moving, brutally self-examining and unsettling memoir.” —Daily Mail (UK)

“[Greenberg] writes beautifully…[He is] gratefully and minutely observant…His cast captivates.” —The Observer (UK)

“The psychotic break of his fifteen-year-old daughter is the grit around which Michael Greenberg forms the pearl that is Hurry Down Sunshine. It is a brilliant, taut, entirely original study of a suffering child and a family and marriage under siege.” —Janet Malcolm, author of The Silent Woman: Sylvia Plath & Ted Hughes and The Journalist and the Murderer

“One of the most gripping and disturbingly honest books I have ever read. The courage Michael Greenberg shows in narrating the story of his adolescent daughter’s descent into psychosis is matched by his acute understanding of how alone each of us is, sane or manic, in our processing of reality and our attempts to get others to appreciate what seems important to us. This is a remarkable memoir.” —Phillip Lopate, author of Two Marriages and Waterfront: A Journey Around Manhattan

From the Publisher

If your average health insurance policy is to be believed, mental illness is hardly worth noting: 20 visits or less; a few pills. Either that or it is too monumentally thoroughgoing to be dealt with in any actuarial manner and is thus best left unmentioned. Let those who have it face it as they may.

Writers face it, of course, by writing about it. Since Robert Burton's 1621 Anatomy of Melancholy, the library of mental affliction has grown large, especially of late: there is William Styron's Darkness Visible; Andrew Solomon's The Noonday Demon; An Unquiet Mind by Kay Redfield Jamison; Blue Genes by Christopher Lukas. Right on the latter's heels now comes Hurry Down Sunshine, the Times Literary Supplement columnist Michael Greenberg's visceral recounting of the summer of 1996, when his teenage daughter, Sally, was suddenly overtaken by manic-depression.

John Dryden observed (in Absalom and Achitophel), "Great wits are sure to madness near allied / And thin partitions do their bounds divide"; it is precisely on this uncertain edge between genius and insanity that Greenberg's story skates. For bipolar (as the disease is now known) is, strangely, an affliction centered on sometimes high-flown ideas and the words that express them, symptomatically in pressured speech replete with puns. Indeed, the first time Greenberg sees Sally, now medicated, in the psych ward after her admittance, she remarks, "They stole my words."

Great artists, and particularly writers -- Byron, Keats, Coleridge, Virginia Woolf, Robert Lowell -- are disproportionately affected, and it follows suit that Sally, too, has verbal gifts. (Dr. Jamison, herself a sufferer, devoted another book to the study of this peculiar confluence.) So it is that bipolar often goes unrecognized as a severe yet treatable malady, and so it was that Greenberg at first wished to see it as anything -- youthful intellectual exuberance, a mishap of recreational drugs -- but an illness that would take Sally, and him as her father, on a bruising ride over rocky terrain.

Although it occurs in the mind, the onset of the disease is concrete in its ramifications. And in Greenberg's telling, we can practically feel the heat of July as it oppresses New York City and the West Village tenement where he lives the type of bohemian artist's life that used to be common but is now rare in those high-rent precincts; we can see the street where Sally flips out, kicking a trashcan in her "irate euphoria" (the author's perfect description of the psychotic mania that is often the first noticed phase of this cyclic debility).

The chronological narrative, with its imperative to follow along quickly so we may see what's next, is anchored in the observation of physical detail -- which paradoxically, and pleasantly, raises it to the realm of the philosophical. The nature of the disease leads Greenberg to explore the nature of personality itself: where does it end and pathology begin? His parental love for Sally, coupled with this careful observation, allows her to shine in all her complexity -- and we can almost taste the stew of frustration, despair, and cogitation that fuels her mania. The central tragedy, as he sees Sally engendering it, is that finally, "There is no I, no reliable self to retreat to or upon which to stand."

Any investigation of bipolar is at base a metaphysics, a discussion of who we are. This becomes evident to Greenberg early on: by page 27, he is arm-wrestling with the obverse of his daughter's grandiose insistences ("You don't know anything about me. Do you, Father?"), her apparent joy, her sense of control over concepts and life itself:

She is beleaguered by certitude because she is certain of nothing. She thinks she's eloquent, when she can't put together a coherent sentence. She demands control because, in some interstice of her psyche, she is hurtling out of control.

He is a writer; his wife, Pat, a dancer; Sally's mother, Robin, an artist -- this child of theirs was cooked in the creative oven, and (as we are all secretly proud to note of our offspring) she came out bearing their artistic impress. So Greenberg is especially worried that the treatment he knows will save his child will also diminish her, will "blunt" the sensibility that makes her who she is. At the diagnosis, then, the author fears he is present at what amounts to his daughter's death.

Being the story of something unexpected (a.k.a. life itself), this is also the story of other sunderings, not just of Sally with so-called normalcy. There is Greenberg's parting of the ways with Robin, their young love portrayed in its innocent first flush but then left, in the recounting, to peter out inchoately. There is the violent crescendo of an almost-break with his current wife; this is laid at the doorstep of his own inability to deal with anger and the stress of Sally's breakdown. And there is some ancient history (as always) with his mother, along with his mentally unstable brother, Steve. All of these relationships remain strangely brittle on the page, as if he knows a memoir has to include them because they are included, but all the truly warm blood flows between him and Sally, with little left to fully animate any other bond. Robin moves through the account as a new age–ist caricature; Steve is an angry and furtive character held at arm's length by the author until such time as he needs him to shade in his picture of chronic craziness as a category of burden. "The afterlife of what has been thrown away," Steve declaims, on the subject of the junk he has taken to selling on the street. But this bit of poetry sounds suspiciously more fresh from the author's pen than recalled from someone's decade-old speech.

Still, at the story's conclusion, if in true life there is ever such (and Greenberg ends by saying no, there is not), the paragraphs begin to fairly hurtle along. It is here that Greenberg hits stride, with ideas, comprehensions, and forgivenesses galloping together in beautiful gait. He allows us to see that it won't go on forever like this, but for a moment, all can be well. Until it isn't, again. --Melissa Holbrook Pierson

Melissa Holbrook Pierson is the author of three works of nonfiction: The Perfect Vehicle, Dark Horses and Black Beauties, and The Place You Love Is Gone, all from Norton. She is writing a book on B. F. Skinner and the ethics of dog training.

What sets Hurry Down Sunshine apart from the great horde of mediocre memoirs, with their sitcom emotions and too neatly resolved fights and reconciliations, is Greenberg's frank pessimism, dark humor and fundamental incapacity to make sense of his daughter's ordeal, let alone to derive an uplifting moral from it…beyond family drama, Hurry Down Sunshine is a very New York book, filled with the kind of characters increasingly rare in a city where real kooks can no longer afford to live.
—The New York Times

Rachel Donadio

Greenberg renders the details of his daughter's breakdown with lyrical precision. He ably describes the heightened sense of being that is often a component of madness—and the way it beckons to outsiders.
—The Washington Post

Nell Casey

Times Literary Supplement columnist Greenberg chronicles his 15-year-old daughter Sally's manic breakdown in vivid yet surprisingly detached prose. In July 1996, the author awoke to find a furiously annotated copy of Shakespeare's Sonnets and loose pages of Sally's poetry strewn about their Greenwich Village apartment. That night, the police escorted his daughter home for "acting crazy" in the streets. Greenberg and second wife Pat pieced the story together from Sally's breathless, incoherent account. She had been struck by a vision: We are all born geniuses, but society robs us of the gift. When the police pulled up, she was on a mission to communicate this to anyone who would listen-even people in the speeding cars she was convinced she could thwart with her hand. Michael and Pat took the "feral, glitter-eyed" Sally to the nearest emergency room, where a psychiatrist gave a preliminary diagnosis of bipolar 1 and admitted her to the psych ward. In his text, her father deals with the shock of Sally's condition by portraying it in the context of literary madness. Greenberg quotes Lowell's descriptions of his own manic episodes, cites Spinoza and alludes to Plato, Byron, Hemingway and Woolf. This might seem aggrandizing, but the author is trying to demonstrate that Sally's insights are sometimes justified, while at the same time avoiding James Joyce's fatal error of enabling his daughter's madness by participating in her visions. Sally spent 24 days in the ward, flanked by her quirky family and a tableau of other colorful characters, before she returned home, highly medicated and bravely determined to believe her therapist's assertion that psychosis is not an identity. Greenberg'stalent for description occasionally runs away from him in a narrative that could be slightly tighter, but his erudite portrait of bipolar disease as experienced from both inside and out is dazzling. Sally's own precocious descriptions of her mania serve as no small aid. Bears enlightening and articulate witness to the sheer force of an oft-misunderstood disease. Agent: Irene Skolnick/Irene Skolnick Literary Agency

Kirkus Reviews