Love's Executioner, and other therapy books

Yalom seems to think clients should be subservient to him. His patronizing condescension and focus on himself may be honest, but not what I would tolerate out of a therapist.

While I agree with the sentiment you express wholeheartedly, I don't see it as applied to Yalom. I agree that he is expressing sadness at her "giving up," but therein lies the problem for me: "given up" what? His standard of beauty? How he sees appearance as reflective of respect--or lack thereof--towards him? That's the attitude I resent. And I do think he expresses disgust in a personal revulsion sort of way which is very honest, but honesty at the expense of kindness I find less than admirable.

That's really a great piece.

I agree that is an excellent read. I'm not convinced that Yalom -- the author that is, who writes from a place where he is more sharing his story about what it's like to do the work he does, is horribly prejudiced about his fat clients. I think that to be very self aware of what your biases and feelings are is different than to be biased and prejudiced. It is the acting out of those biases-- the treating people differently based on them-- as opposed to the thoughts themselves, that is the problem.

In my experience, people who are more self aware of how they feel about others and are willing to acknowledge the ugliness of their thoughts and feelings, and where they may come from, are able to move beyond those and treat people with compassion and understanding. It's the people who deny that they have strong feelings one way or the other, or who claim they are "objective", are usually the kind of people I stay away from.

I got something out of reading Yalom's books, probably just entertainment from his internal dialog, and see the value of his as the author. I am not sure that I learned a whole lot about Yalom the therapist, as in what it might be like to be a client of his. I think his books speak to more what it's like to be a therapist, not so much what it's like to be his client.

I can't imagine ever admitting to my worst ugly thoughts for the masses to read, no matter how many books I would sell. So, I appreciate Yalom's giving of himself in that way even as I cringe at the sentiments themselves and I feel compassion for people who might feel badly reading it.

Yalom is also open about his tricks and I appreciate that, too, as I want to know the best, worst and most practical of what a therapist thinks. I might think it is wrong to use tricks, but I want to know what they are.

I've bought a lot of the book suggestions in this thread, thanks!

I've found that many male therapists (who are honest) think on appearance of clients. I so don't want my appearance to have anything to do with therapy!!!

As a teen, I was expected to groom myself to be pleasing to the sight of the adult male in the household. As I reflect on Yalom's work, I realized I could never fully open up to a male therapist.

I'm fairly convinced that he did a good job of not letting his clients know his prejudice, but, it's hard to tell from the work.

I agree 100% that the more we know about ourselves, ugly thoughts and all, the better we are at checking those thoughts. It moves us from a place of reaction to thoughtful action. I admire his skill and self-knowledge without a doubt. His honesty is unflinching, and he was willing to talk about himself. He had to know that, for some, it would be inflammatory.

I imagine that, if I were a therapist, that all sorts of hidden bias would pop up. Keeping it out of the therapeutic frame must require a tremendous amount of discipline.

It's hard for me to explain, but it's not so much the thoughts but how he says them, it's like an attitude, that bothers me. Therapists can be disgusted by things too, and I understand that. But behind it all I also sense a certain ego and sense of superiority, and I think that's what I find more bothersome. Then again, I'm a man and issue of calling somebody fat is less of a trigger for me than for female readers (generally speaking). So maybe it IS only his fat disgust, that some find bothersome.

I sense Yalom's disgust goes far beyond his fat disgust. He strikes me as downright misanthropic. His accounts drip with superiority toward his patients. I reread the title chapter about the 70-year-old woman, Thelma. I think he doesn't offer one thing to help the reader like or sympathize with her. Rather than a collaboration, I feel he's brute-force wrestling with his patient who fails to meet his standard of emotional fitness. And after he talks with Thelma's husband he says, "God, what a couple! Deliver me from both of them!" He certainly lacks the insight or empathy into sexual exploitation at the hands of a therapist, which is a central issue in this case.

I see skilled narrative or creative nonfiction writers lead their readers into the worlds of their subjects, take you on their journey to understand and empathize with the subjects' struggles. All Yalom seems to want his reader to care about is Yalom.

Then there's Yalom's fixation with appearances. Need I say there's more to a woman than that, even us older ladies. I'd think after months of the intimacy of therapy Yalom would see beyond appearances and have some appreciation for his patient's good qualities and humanity.

Yalom makes me angry because I see him as duplicitous. He criticizes his patients' inauthenticity. But that's what I draw about him. I feel his work is all about his self-admiration rather than liking anyone very much.

It's totally his ego that I find annoying, not the issue of fat or appearance, per se. While I think self-awareness, and the willingness to reveal the less flattering sides of it are to be respected, I think it's also possible to use such a display of honesty as a veil masking a self-congratulatory attitude. It's a sort of passive-aggressiveness, I suppose. It's the "see how honest I'm willing to be" rationalization, when employed ultimately for self-aggrandizement, despite the consequence of causing potential pain, that I find off-putting about him. Of course, all of these speculations are second hand as none of us appears to know him personally; but it's enough for me to not be willing to further line his pockets by buying his work.

Wow. You put words to it in a way that I could not.

I get what you are saying. His revealing of his inner thoughts isn't a humble revealing, offered in a self-deprecating tone.

Rather, if you read the afterword, there's no shame for his former feelings about fat people, but there's a defensiveness and a pride about having overcome his feelings.

Yes, Yalom's "humility" reminds me of a politician's shallow mea culpa when he's caught in some horrible impropriety. He goes before the cameras, performs his carefully-crafted and scripted remorse, then continues his day with no whiff of real shame evident.

I can understand how he can be seen as egotistical, and maybe he is. I think it's hard to judge from a book one way or another. I'm not sure that he's egotistical as an author, although maybe he is as a therapist.

But I can't agree that anyone should be ashamed of his or her thoughts or feelings. How you treat people-- if shabbily or thoughtlessly or violently or whatever-- people should atone for what they *do* wrong.

But I don't believe that shame attaches to just thoughts or feelings. Getting rid of my own shame for what I think and feel has not been an easy road, and I wouldn't wish "real shame" on anyone.

Perhaps I used the wrong word. Would you feel more comfortable if I used "authentic vulnerability" Or "authentic contrition?" I'm trying to pin down the difference between a performed, insincere apology and a real one.

Or maybe the line is Yalom's feelings about the obese woman vs their consequence: the ethics of he being the one to treat her, or how he served her up in his NY Times bestselling book.

Though Yalom writes with great reproach how has patients live under illusions, without authenticity, I draw the same qualities about him.