The author needs no introduction. Alastair Campbell, Tony Blair's former spin doctor, is probably best-known to New Zealand audiences for his hilariously ham-fisted media-handling of the disastrous 2005 Lions' rugby tour.
And while some may argue that Campbell has already turned his hand to fiction (see 2002's "sexed up" dossier about Iraq's chemical weapons capability), this is his first novel. It's about a depressive psychiatrist and his six patients, and while Campbell will never be a Booker-winning novelist with banal dialogue like, "You have lost your wife, though I am not convinced that cannot be salvaged at a later date", he fortunately has chosen a subject close to his head.
Campbell had a serious breakdown in 1986 and was hospitalised, then had a recurrence of depression after he was forced out of politics (see, again, 2002's "sexed up" dossier). He chronicled his struggles with mental illness in a recent BBC documentary, the book is dedicated to one GP and two psychiatrists, and the cover endorsement comes not from another novelist but from fellow celebrity depressive Stephen Fry (who gushes: "brilliant ... compelling ... unforgettable").
So, when ace psychiatrist Martin Sturrock starts seeing black dogs, Campbell lets his patient and manual labourer David Temple act as a cipher and speak with inexplicable elegance about living through depression: "I felt like I have lived through a storm, and yet not a blade of grass has moved," he says.
Sturrock's other broken patients are ripped from yesterday's headlines. There's a rape victim from Kosovo, a people-trafficked prostitute from Sierra Leone and - in a comic aside - a wayward barrister whose wife is convinced he suffers from sex addiction.
The characters, mostly a collection of details, unfortunately fail to become more than the sum of their parts. But Campbell's obvious experience gives him an insight into a form of psychiatry that many might regard as quackery - if only they weren't part of mainstream cognitive behavioural therapy. A severe burns victim is given a box of raisins to ponder, the rape survivor is asked to forgive her attacker and an alcoholic Member of Parliament is given a sermon on the "demon drink" (Campbell is also a teetotaller).
The author clearly wants to believe in the power of healing through dramatic epiphany. And while it may have helped him through his own dark times, the mawkish conclusion won't satisfy everyone.
All in the Mind
By Alastair Campbell (Random House $37)
* Matt Nippert is an Auckland reviewer.
Straight off the couch
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