1

Demonul amiezii, de Andrew Solomon - O anatomie a depresiei

Vlad Adascalitei | 20 Mai, 2014

Dac citii o singur carte anul sta, atunci s fie Demonul amiezii, anatomia unei depresii, de Andrew
Solomon. Chiar nainte de a posta recenzia asta, am citit o tire despre sinuciderea lui Malik Bendjelloul. Dac
nu tii, el era regizorul fantasticului documentar ce a ctigat anul trecut premiul Oscar, Searching for Sugar
Man. Tnr, pe val din punct de vedere profesional, descris de toi cei ce l-au cunoscut ca fiind un tip optimist,
pasionat de ceea ce fcea, armant i plin de via. Nimeni nu nelegea cum s-a putut ntmpla aa ceva.
Doar n treact, se pomenea c de ceva vreme se lupta cu depresia. Fr arogana de a vrea s nelegi
hotrrea din spatele unui astfel de act profund personal i radical, o s v apropiai cu o totul alt perspectiv
de asemenea tragedii dup lectura crii scriitorului american.

Demonul amiezii este, nainte de toate, un manifest pentru empatie. Cu o sinceritate brutal i o erudiie ce te
face s te simi umil, Andrew Solomon i spune povestea propriei lupte cu acest monstru ce l pndete n
fiecare zi din spatele cortinei propriei mini. i nu e ca i cum nu ar avea nimic de pierdut. Dac America ar
avea o aristocraie, el ar face parte din ea. Fiu al unui afacerist prosper din domeniul farmaceutic, educat la
Yale, plimbat din Africa (unde particip la ritualul de exorcizare a demonilor depresiei din el ) i pn n
Groelanda (unde studiaz cum o comunitate feroce n singurtatea i duritatea ei i deschide rana depresiei
n faa unui psiholog de ocazie, n timp ce consum o farfurie de sup de balen), romancier, cu articole
aprute n The New Yorker, New York Times i alte publicaii de top.

Aa este el vzut n afar, nimic n neregul, totul n favoarea lui, un intelectual gay crescut cu o linguri de
argint n gur. De ce ar putea el s se plng? De aici vine tabuul. Din iadul sunt ceilali, din ruine, din
prerea c depresia este o exagerare, o boal a dorinei de atenie, o invenie sau, i mai stupid, o toan a
femeilor. Toi cei ce mi-au mrturisit vreodat c au trecut printr-un moment de depresie clinic, au continuat
cu: Dar te rog nu mai spune la nimeni, m-ar crede slab/. Chiar i Solomon are o poveste foarte instructiv n
sensul sta: La o petrecere, dup ce Solomon i mrturisise depresia ntr-un articol din the New Yorker, o
doamn l abordeaz la o petrecere i i povete despre tratamentul pe care l ia pentru depresie, dar l roag
s nu-i spun soului ei, care i-ar face o impresie greit despre ea, dac ar afla. Mai trziu, soul l trage ntr-
un col i i cere sfatul n legtur cu pastilele antidepresive pe care le ia. Dar l roag s rmn ntre ei, soia
nu tie i: Ce fel de brbat m-ar crede? dac ar afla. Erau singuri n minciun, dar mpreun n depresie.

Trgaciul depresiei lui Solomon a fost sinuciderea asistat de el, fratele i tatl lor, a mamei sale bolnave de
cancer. Un eveniment ncrcat de suferin, dar profund gndit, o hotrre luat ntr-un moment raional i care
la momentul acela prea singura soluie a unei mori decente. Dup, i vede de treab, i apare romanul, n
care descrie autobiografic scena cu mama sa, doar c, atunci cnd trebuie s mearg n promovare, monstrul
amiezii i contorsioneaz corpul ntr-o poziie fetal, l face s-i piard controlul asupra propriilor intestine i i
rpete dorina de a se mica, cci nu fericirea este opusul depresiei, ci lipsa vitalitii.

Depresia nu se manifest la fel pentru toi. Pentru unii este o amorire, o derut permanent cu privire la cine
sunt, ce vor i cum cum vor evada din realitatea asta care nu mai prezint nici un interes pentru ei. La alii
depresia este una agitat, violent, cu un comportament autodistructiv constant. Mersul cu vitez pe
motociclet, parautismul, drogurile, promiscuitatea excesiv, toate astea sunt o form de comportament
parasuicidar. Hugh Laurie mrturisea c i-a auto-diagnosticat depresia clinic atunci cnd, aflat ntr-o curs
de maini, dou dintre ele s-au ciocnit i au explodat n faa lui, dar asta nici nu l-a excitat, nici nu l-a speriat, ci
doar l-a plictisit. Plictiseala, a comentat el, nu este un rspuns potrivit la maini explodnd.
 2

Pn de curnd tendinele suicidale erau tratate ca fiind simptome ale depresiei, la fel i dependenele, dar nu
mai este cazul. Din cei bolnavi de depresie, doar un numr de 15 la sut merg pn la sinucidere, dar se
sinucid i oameni ce nu sufer de depresie. Nu exist o relaie imperativ de cauzalitate ntre cele dou. A fi
sau a nu fi. Exist o singur problem filozofic cu adevrat serioas, i aceasta este sinuciderea. spunea
Camus n anii 50 i nimic nu s-a schimbat de atunci. ncercm s gsim o cauz direct, l-a prsit iubita, i-a
murit mama, a fost concediat, doar pentru a ne face s ne simim n siguran. Noi nu suntem n stare de aa
ceva, doar ei ar putea face asta. Cutm confortul, dei cu toii tim c linia de demarcaie este foarte mic,
dar ncercm s negm asta, ca acel pas radical s nu existe nici mcar ca opiune. Dar el exist.

Dependena de droguri intr tot la simptomele depresie, dar, din nou, nu este ceva imperativ. Solomon
repovestete experiena unei prietene cu elefanii: n Nepal, cnd unui elefant i intr n picior o achie,
cornacul i pune boia de ardei iute ntr-un ochi, iar elefantul e att de preocupat de durerea provocat de ardei,
nct nu-i mai pas de durerea din picior, i oamenii pot s-i scoat eapa fr s fie strivii. Drogurile sunt
ardeiul.

De aici paradoxul, a celor care renun la droguri, dup un program de dezintoxicare, dar care, imediat dup,
se sinucid. Asta pentru c acel gol care a dus la consumul de droguri nc exist acolo i acum nghite
persoana n ntuneric cu mai mult voracitate. Pn atunci drogurile omorau voina, pcleau psihicul,
oboseau corpul, dar fr ele dezgustul revine, mpreun cu capacitatea fizic de a duce la ndeplinire dorina
de suicid.

Solomon, care le-a testat pe majoritatea, recunoate c drogurile pot fi considerate rele doar de cei ce nu le-
au ncercat. Dar aa cum spune un comediant american: Drogurile nu sunt rele, sunt foarte bune. Att de
bune, c o s-i distrug viaa.

De aici apelul disperat pe care Solomon l face pentru concentrarea pe vindecarea depresiei, mai nainte de
toate. Scriitorul a ncercat tot ce se poate ncerca n materie de tratament. Este un apologet al terapiei
tradiionale, ajutate de medicaie. Dar nu exclude ncercarea alternativelor. n afar de cele stupide, ca de pild
misticul la care apeleaz el i care se oprete n mijlocul ritualului, pentru c a uitat ce cuvinte urmeaz. Cnd
se ntoarce, acesta i recit descntul uitat: O s fii fericit. Vrei s fii fericit.

Alterantive sunt o mulime: dansul step, croetatul, exerciii fizice, dieta, stimularea magnetic transcranian
repetitiv, lightboxuri, desensibilizarea i reprocesarea prin micri oculare, masaj, hipnoz, suntoare,
homeopatie, terapie de grup, psihochirugie, cci fiind o maladie a proceselor afective, efectul placebo are un
potenial destul de mare de succes aici. Dac crezi c ceea ce faci te face bine, i te simi bine facnd-o,
probabil c te i ajut de adevratelea. Dar niciodat nu este de ajuns fr un tratament clasic, acesta fiind
coloana vertebral a recuperrii.

Exist i tratamente radicale, dar care par s dea rezultate. Ele sunt att de oribile n descriere, c e destul de
complicat s m gndesc la ele fr un fior pe ira spinrii. Ca de pild ocurile electrice, ce nc se mai
folosesc ntr-un numr mic de spitale din America. Un oc de o secund provoac o criz n zona temporal i
n vertex care dureaz circa 30 de secunde, suficient ca s modifice procesele chimice cerebrale, nu suficient
ca s prjeasc materia cenuie. Echivalent cu cel dintr-un bec de o sut de wai. Efectul negativ imediat este
c au potenialul de a-i afecta memoria. Nu se tie foarte exact cum funcionez, se presupune c au un efect
revigorant asupra neurotransmitorilor, dar Solomon vorbete cu o serie de pacieni ce au trecut prin asta i s-
au recuperat destul de bine din faze depresive ce preau ireversibile i pentru care se ncercase, practic, totul.

Mai nfricotoare este cingulotomia. Sora lobotomiei, ea este interzis n majoritatea statelor americane, dar
n Boston ea nc este executat foarte rar, pe pacieni ce trebuie s treac printr-un an de teste. Scalpul este
amorit local, iar chirurgul face un mic orificiu cu burghiul n partea anterioar a creierului. Aplic un electrod
 3

direct pe creier, pentru a distruge zone tisulare de opt pe optsprezece milimetri. Nu mai eti acelai, dar ei
sper c o s fii mai bine.

Depresia nu este doar o boal cu o sorginte chimic, ce poate fi vindecat medicamentos, la fel cum nu este
doar una psihologic, ce poate fi vindecat doar prin terapie conversaional. Ambele paliere trebuie acoperite.
Andrew Solomon este dovada vie c cineva care sufer de depresie clinic poate funciona cu rezultate
excepionale i cartea pe care o scrie este una a speranei. El ncearc s-i cunoasc inamicul, ce asemeni
gorgonei l paralizeaz periodic, pentru a l putea nvinge.

Povetile de recuperare din Demonul amiezii sunt att de extraordinare, c atunci cnd s-a dus cu o parte din
ele la editorii de la New York Times, acetia i-au refuzat publicarea pentru c preau neveridice. Erau
realitatea, dar se apropiau prea mult de ficiune. Cum se putea ca doar combinaia dintre un pic de terapie, un
pic de medicamentaie, un pic de atenie, de cineva care s-i asculte, pentru a nu se mai ascunde tot timpul n
spatele unei mti i pentru a afla c mai sunt i alii la fel, s fie de ajuns pentru ca bolnavi, sraci, abuzai
fizic i psihic s se scuture din condiia lor i s devin efi de fonduri de investiii. Sunau prea mult a ficiune i
cu toate astea erau realitate.

Andrew Solomon i ncheie cartea spunnd c a ajuns s-i iubeasc depresia. Eu nu pot s fiu la fel de
iubitor, o ursc pe a mea. O ursc cu o pasiune ce m ajut s m menin pe linia de plutire. Iau hotrri n
privina comportamentului meu, aducndu-mi aminte ct de mult ursc reapariia depresiei clinice n viaa mea.
Dar m-a nvat ceva , ca i pe el, suntem unii de defectele noastre. Un alcoolic poate vorbi mult mai uor
despre boala lui n cadrul unei edine Alcoolici anonimi, unde toi au trecut prin acelai calvar, un junkie la fel
cu un grup de la dezintoxicare, un depresiv cu un alt depresiv. Judecata nu mai este acolo, ea a fost nlocuit
de empatie. De nelegere, de dorina de a mbria, nu de a respinge ce nu nelegi i, s fim sinceri, i mai i
stric buna dispoziie.

Demonul amiezii este o carte complet, vorbete despre istoria bolii, sociologia ei, politicile statului legate de
tratarea ei, tratament, alternative i, n mod special, speran.

Muli neag depresia, pn este prea trziu. Nu se las ajutai, ci fug de cei ce le ntind o mn, pentru c
asta le-ar legitima oficial condiia de depresiv. Brbaii devin agresivi i i neac amarul n pahar sau alte
substane, aa cum au fost nvai c trebuie s fac un brbat adevrat, femeile se nchid n ele i ip mut
ca un personaj din picturile expresioniste.

P.S.: i cum oricum asta nu a fost tocmai o recenzie obinuit. Dac cineva vrea s vorbeasc despre ceva
prin care trece, acesta este email-ul meu a.vladk@ymail.com Anonim sau nu, o s le citesc, dac o s vrei, o
s v rspund, dac nu vrei, nu o s v rspund, dar putei s fii siguri c cineva, undeva, v-a citit povestea i
nu suntei singuri.
 4

Domnul Andrew Solomon sau despre Demonul Amiezii. O anatomie a depresiei

03.06.2014 Cristina Foarf

Cartea lui Andrew Solomon, Demonul Amiezii. O anatomie a depresiei, este copleitoare. Te cufunzi complet n
ea, i pui ntrebri asupra propriilor experiene, empatizezi att ct poi cu o suferin pe care o nelegi pn la
un punct. n cele 600 de pagini, Andrew Solomon ntoarce depresia pe toate prile i, cel mai impresionant
lucru, o face pornind de la experiena personal.

Aceasta nu este o cronic a crii. Nici n-ar avea cum, nu am pregtirea i nici experiena necesare. i
propune s fie un punct de plecare pentru a v face s citii cartea i s privii depresia cu ali ochi. ntr-un
eseu foarte personal, Andrew Solomon jongleaz aici cu psihologie, medicin, farmacie, povestete n detaliu
episode crunte de depresie ale sale i ale apropiailor i i face istoria cultural. Perspectivele lui sunt multiple,
vorbete de lucruri la care nu te-ai fi gndit i o face cu elegan, umanitate i cldur. Pune depresia n
legtur cu clasele sociale, cu istoria, cu mentalitile, cu cultura, cu dependena, ba chiar discut i poziiile
politice legate de acest subiect.

Cartea a aprut n 2001 i a fost tradus foarte recent la Humanitas. A fost printre textele finalistele pentru
Pulitzer, a ctigat National Book Award n SUA i a fost tradus n peste 20 de limbi. Un adevrat fenomen cu
care foarte mult lume a rezonat, datorit subiectului sensibil, de multe ori ascuns sau neasumat.

Cine este Andrew Solomon

De la prima conferin TED pe care am vzut-o, Andrew Solomon m-a fascinat. Cu un aer de dandy,
aristocratic, cu un discurs hipnotizant, Andrew Solomon i d impresia unui om ale crui vorbe au profunzime.

Nscut ntr-o familie bogat, lui Andrew Solomon, spune chiar el, nu i-a lipsit nimic. A fost mereu ntr-o poziie
privilegiat, a obinut ce a vrut, a mers la cele mai bune coli, a avut experiene bogate, prieteni, familie alturi
de el, a cltorit mult i a avut mereu un cerc social interesant. Pentru cei care cred c depresia este
provocat doar de cauze exterioare, acest lucru poate prea uimitor sau cel mult un moft. Tocmai despre
complexitatea depresiei vorbete Andrew Solomon n carte.

Homosexual, Andrew Solomon a avut probleme cu asumarea propriei sexualiti, a cutat i a experimentat,
spune el, orice. ntr-o alt carte a sa, Far from the Tree: Parents, Children, and the Search for Identity,
reconsider ideea de familie, discutnd deschis despre tabu-urile i prejudecile legate de familie, despre
tipurile moderne de familie i despre noile relaii.

Un episod marcant din viaa lui, despre care vorbete i n carte, este boala mamei sale. Suferind de cancer, i
observ decderea, dispariia treptat pentru ca, n final, s i fie alturi atunci cnd ea a ales eutanasia,
nclcnd legea, dar ajutnd-o s-i mplineasc dorina de a muri. Totul este descris ntr-un eseu emoionant
pentru The New Yorker pe care l putei citi aici.

mpreun cu partenerul lui, au un copil nscut de o mam purttoare. n acelai timp, partenerul lui este tatl
biologic a doi copii, un bieel i o feti, unei familii de lesbiene i Andrew este tatl biologic al unei fetie
fcute cu o prieten care dorea s aib copii. Complicat? Citii ct de frumos i complex explic el totul i
nelegi c regulile despre ce nelegem n mod tradiional prin familie nu se aplic oricum, oricnd i cu
rigiditate. Despre familia lui modern, extins, cu relaii complicate, citii un eseu fascinant aici.

Mai multe vedei n conferinele TED de mai jos, att despre depresie, ct i despre familie, unde, cu atta
sinceritate, domnul Solomon vorbete despre sine i despre convingerile sale.
 5

Dac eti depresiv, citirea crii te face s-i dai seama cum funcioneaz mecanismele depresiei, la ce s te a tep i,
i d informaii detaliate despre medicaie, ce pastile func ioneaz i cum, ce efecte adverse au i ce nseamn din
punct de vedere fiziologic depresia.

Dac ai lng tine o persoan depresiv, cartea asta te ajut s-o n elegi mai bine, i arat cum s reac ionezi n
situaiile critice (dei, spune chiar el, nu exist o reet universal) i te nva s nu mai minimizezi depresia. Uneori
avem tendina de a minimiza depresiile altora, de a le pune n seama diver ilor factori, de a le considera un moft
sua ceva trector. Despresia este un stigmat i cei care merg la psiholog sau psihiatru sunt nu de pu ine ori
considerai nebuni. Ne e greu s oferim empatie atunci cnd nu n elegem. Andrew Solomon demonteaz miturile i
prejudecile privind depresia i-i arat ct de serioas e.

Pe mine m-a fcut, de exemplu, s-mi dau seama c n-am avut episoade depresive serioase, a a cum credeam,
dar am realizat ct de atent trebuie s fiu pentru a le contientiza din primele faze i a ncerca s nu le las s
creasc i a cuta ajutor. Citind descrierile detaliate ale strilor de acolo, mi-am dat seama ct de cumplit e s nu te
poi ridica sptmni ntregi din pat, s nu poi mnca, s ai nevoie de ajutor pentru cele mai simple lucruri, s te
gndeti permanent la sinucidere (el chiar spune c, contar miturilor, cei care vorbesc despre sinucidere sunt
predispui s o fac iar cei care au ncercat tind s repete) i s nu po i controla pe termen lung deloc ce se
ntmpl cu tine.

Cartea nu are tonul didactic al unui volum de psihologie, nici cel tiin ific al unuia de medicin, dar nici afectarea
unei mrturisiri personale. Andrew Solomon le-a echilibrat perfect. Iar ceea ce este cu adevrat impresionant este
sinceritatea lui Andrew Solomon, care se expune complet, povestind n amnunt episoade foarte intime, ntmplri
jenante (ca atunci cnd face sex la ntmplare cu brbai n parcuri pentru a se contamina cu HIV), gnduri dificil de
acceptat fa de tine nsui dar fa de alii, momente de introspec ie adnc sau episoade pe care nu mul i le
recunosc public (consumul de droguri de exemplu). Devine vulnerabil n fa a cititorului, cu imaginea unui om care nu
are nimic de pierdut, dar care i dorete s-i ajute pe al ii s nu treac prin ce-a trecut el sau, dac trec, s
neleag ce se ntmpl cu ei.

E o zon a nisipurilor mictoare depresia, unde nici un pas nu e sigur i unde te scufunzi ncet. Cartea e
impresionant tocmai prin profunzimea cu care trateaz depresia, jonglnd mereu cu planurile, i e dureroas
pentru c-i arat n fa, fr exagerri dar fr ascunziuri, ce nseamn de fapt boala asta teribil. Iar cnd vine
vorba de tratamente extreme, ca electroocurile sau chiar operaii pe creier, te trec fiorii.

Depresia e o vulnerabilitate genetic, spune Solomon, care adeseori este amplificat de evenimentele exterioare.
Depresia nu e tristee, nu e oboseal, nu e melancolie, nu e anxietate. Ele pot fi parte din ea dar depresia este ceva
mult mai complex. Predispoziia exist ns i e o ntreag discu ie n carte despre depresia la oamenii sraci. n
cazul lor, tindem s punem depresia pe seama lipsurilor, s nu o tratm corespunztor, cinvin i c dac se
rezolv presupusa cauz, dispar consecinele. Boala minii e o boal real, spune el, cu efecte asupra
corpului, pe care le descrie n detalii greu de suportat. Cum se aplic regulile chimie unui lucru att de nebulos
ca starea de spirit?
 6

Citate din Demonul Amiezii. O anatomie a depresiei

Mai mult dect orice v-a putea spune eu despre carte v spune textul n sine. Am ales cteva citate pentru a
vedea cum scrie Andrew Solomon i de ce cartea asta este o lectur att de intens.

Depresia este punctul nevralgic al iubirii. Pentru a fi fpturi care iubesc, trebuie s fim fpturi care pot cdea
prad disperrii din cauza unei pierderi, iar depresia e mecanismul acelei disperri.

Depresia crescuse n mine ca via care cucerise copacul; m sectuia i se nfurase n jurul meu, hd, mai
vie dect mine.

E prea adesea o calitate a fericirii faptul c-i sim n fiecare clip fragilitatea, n vreme ce depresia, cnd eti n
miezul ei, pare o stare care n-o s treac niciodat.

Mai bine triesc mereu n ceaa tristeii dect s renun la capacitatea de a simi durere. Dar durerea nu este
depresie acut; iubeti i eti iubit cu mare durere, i eti viu trind asta.

Cnd te confruni cu lumi cu lumi n care adversitatea este norma, vezi cum se modific hotarele dintre gndul
corect c viaa e grea i starea de depresie.

Opusul depresiei nu e fericirea, ci vitalitatea.

Aceasta este, poate, cea mai mare revelaie pe care am avut-o: nu faptul c depresia e fascinant, ci c
oamenii care o au pot s devin fascinani datorit ei.

Tendina de suicid poate fi un simptom al depresiei; poate fi i un factor de ameliorare. Gndul de sinucidere
te poate face s treci prin depresie. M atept s triesc mai departe ct vreme pot s dau sau s primesc
ceva mai bun dect durerea, dar u fgduiesc c n-o s m omor niciodat. Nimic nu m ngrozete mai tare
dect gndul c a putea, la un moment dat, s-mi pierd capacitatea de a m sinucide.

Depresia o taie de-a curmeziul, peste limitele de clas, tratamentele depresiei ns nu. Aceasta nseamn c
cei mai muli dintre oamenii care sunt sraci i depresivi rmn sraci i depresivi; de fapt, cu ct rmn mai
mult sraci i depresivi, cu att devin mai sraci i mai depresivi. Srcia e deprimant, iar depresia srcete,
ducnd la disfuncii i izolare. Umilina srciei este o relaie pasiv cu soarta, o stare n care oamenii cu
putere evident mai mare apeleaz imediat la tratament.

Etalonul nostru, ca fiine umane, nu este realitatea.

Meet My Real Modern Family

February 2011
 7

"While I was becoming true to myself, the world changed."

"In my wedding toast, I said, The love that dared not speak its name is now broadcasting.""

"Children are always products of emotion and biology, but its disorienting when those elements
become asynchronous."

"Pregnancy supersedes irony; you never know anyone as admiringly as you do when she is carrying
your child."

"It was momentous to hear the Danbury city clerk declare us husband and husband and just as
consequential to have all four children together for the first time."

"Loving John had helped me to become whole, and loving these children rooted me in that wholeness."

"I dwell too much in abstraction and the future, and parenting has taught me the present time that
children require, where contentment, even rapture, reside."

"It is exhilarating to be Christopher Columbus landing on the wilder shores of love, but sometimes one
would prefer to live where the luxury hotels have already been built and Internet access is wireless."

"We have earned the familial relationships into which others stumble, and there is a veterans peace in
our mutual devotion."

"I do not accept competitive models of love, only additive ones."

Children used to make me sad. With the happy children in my adult life, I felt guilty, even mean, about being
sad. The origin of that sadness was opaque, but I think it came most from how the absence of children in the
lives of gay people had been repeatedly held up as my tragedy. When I came out, the prevailing view was that
I was shortsightedly choosing sexual fantasies over producing a family. I was encouraged by my parents and
the world to marry a woman and procreate. I spent years drifting between relationships with men and with
women; I was mildly bisexual in a fluid era, but if children hadnt been part of the equation, I wouldnt have
bothered with the other half. Even though I was in love with some of the women I dated, I felt mildly fraudulent
in those intimacies. While I was becoming true to myself, the world changed. What I couldnt know then was
whether I truly wanted children, or whether I just wanted to prove wrong everyone who had pitied me.

Shortly after I met John, who is now my husband, we ran into his friends Laura and Tammy and their toddler,
Oliver, at the 2001 Minnesota State Fair. John and Laura had been co-workers, and Laura had observed him
for years before she and Tammy had asked him to be their childs biological father. Though not especially close
to them, he had agreed, signing legal documents in which he foreswore paternal rights and they foreswore
claims to support. He had offered to be in the childs life to the extent he was able, if the child so wished, but in
 8

deference to Tammys position as adoptive mother, he had so far remained uninvolved. Nevertheless, the
women asked him to be a sperm donor again, and Lucy was born in 2004, by which time John was living with
me in Manhattan.

The question of having biological children in unorthodox ways was familiar to me. A few years before I met
John, during a trip to Texas, I attended a dinner that included my college friend Blaine. I had adored her for
more than 20 years, but then, everyone adores Blaine; she is serenely beautiful and poised, and I had never
felt indispensable to her as I do with more difficult friends. Blaine had divorced and shortly thereafter lost her
mother, and she alluded to her yearning to become a mother herself. I said Id be thrilled to father her child.
The idea that she might actually want to have a baby with me was unimaginable; I suggested it with the
rhetorical politesse with which Id invited new acquaintances in remote countries to stop by for a drink if they
ever found themselves in Greenwich Village. When I got home, however, I wrote her a letter, saying that I
thought she would be a glorious mother, and that if she didnt have a child with me, I hoped shed have one
with someone.

When Blaine came to my 40th birthday party in New York three years later, in 2003, we realized that we both
wanted to have that child together. I wasnt ready to tell John, who was still living in Minneapolis. When I did tell
him, he exploded. He had been a sperm donor, he argued; I would have a child who would bear my last name.
I would be involved in an ongoing, profound relationship with Blaine that he feared would lethally triangulate
our own. I did not know how hard it is to reinvent family, and he could not envision how fulfilling this particular
reinvention might be. I nearly backed out but felt I couldnt renege on my word, based on a wish I could
likewise not forsake. John, whose benevolence invariably triumphs, finally relented, and Blaine and I conceived
through IVF. Blaine, meanwhile, had met her partner, Richard, putting a reasonable if unusual balance in place.

Falling in love with John had meant not only the discovery of great happiness, but also the elimination of great
unhappiness. Marrying him was my way of acknowledging our love as more a presence than an absence,
which was especially urgent as we moved forward with the Blaine plan. I am a dual national, and Britain had
recently passed an encompassing civil-partnership law, so we had a June ceremony in the English
countryside, presided over by a registrar, a minister, and a rabbi. In my wedding toast, I said, The love that
dared not speak its name is now broadcasting. If all my gay childhood traumas had led me to this day, I
thought, maybe they were not so bad as they had seemed. Oliver, then 7, served as Johns ring bearer. Blaine,
four months pregnant with our child, came with Richard, and John ventured that wed had the first gay shotgun
wedding.

John and I headed to Texas for little Blaines delivery, by Caesarean section, on Nov. 5, 2007. I watched the
obstetrician pull my child out of her mother, and was the first person to hold her, and was as shocked as I was
elated. I had to affirm paternity before my name went on the birth certificate; the hospital clerk advised me, as
an unmarried father, to ask for genetic testing, referring knowingly to the love child. I spared him the details.
 9

Little Blaine was to live in Texas with her mother, and we were to visit each other often. I was grateful that John
welcomed the daughter he had dreadedgrateful, too, that he and Blaine had come to cherish each other.
Blaines 86-year-old father, whose values I had thought this might challenge, accepted me as a son; my father
was overjoyed by his granddaughter. My pleasure in fatherhood aligned with the satisfaction of giving scope to
Blaines genius for motherhood. Blaine had my own mothers elegance of thought and appearance, echoed her
ability to find hilarity in the dailiness of life, demonstrated the same madcap imagination largely hidden by
discretion and obdurate reserve, and shared her gene for intelligent empathy tinged with sadness.

Still, I wanted a child in my own house with John. Its good news that being gay is no longer crazy (removed
from the DSM, psychiatrys bible, in 1973) or illegal (fully decriminalized in 2003), but we carry the legacy of its
being both, and couldnt have children to assert progress, social or personal. John had wanted to marry; I
hadnt, particularly; and then the reality had entranced me. I exacted a child as fair trade, believing John, too,
would end up entranced. John said, How much happier do you need to be? I said, If we dont have a child
because youve vetoed the idea, it will infect the rest of our marriage. The conversation stalled there, but
Johns compassion ultimately carried the day. For my birthday six months later, in October 2007, he gave me a
carved antique cradle tied up with a bow, and said, If its a boy, can we call him George, after my grandpa?

A lawyer laid out the advantages of having one woman provide the egg and another the womb, so that neither
would have full claim as mother, and we began the blind-dating egg hunt. Our first choice was a charming
woman who, several months into preparations, tested positive for cocaine. Even as I championed another
prospect, whose egg we finally used, I felt sorry that I would never see what might come of mixing Johns
genes with my own. I was thankful we could get an egg, but sad that neither of us could produce one; glad we
could have a child at all, and regretful about the aura of manufacturing that clung to the venture. Children are
always products of emotion and biology, but its disorienting when those elements become asynchronous.

John had proposed that I be biological father of this child and said that he might sire the next, if there were
one. When we told Laura and Tammy our plan, Laura said, We couldnt have had Oliver and Lucy without you,
and well never be able to thank you enough for that, but I could be your surrogate to show how much you
mean to us. There followed medical screenings of Laura, the egg donor, and me; samples (the bright hospital
room, the leatherette briefcase of dated girlie magazines provided by the staff); fertility treatments for Laura;
embryo transfers; and ultrasounds. Children had been a buffer for Laura against pain and fear, giving purpose
to her calm authority; now, she bravely converted that vulnerability into generosity.

We got pregnant on our second IVF protocol. Pregnancy supersedes irony; you never know anyone as
admiringly as you do when she is carrying your child, and I marveled at the way Laura wove the life she was
building for us into the life she had built for herself. Through the proceeding, we drew inexorably closer to
Laura and Tammy and the kids. Oliver and Lucy referred to the expected baby as their brother, and I was shy
of their enthusiasm. However, I liked Olivers zaniness and Lucys exuberance, and I loved how Johns wit and
gentleness echoed in them. We went to Minneapolis for the late stages of the pregnancy and ended up staying
a month, seeing them every day. When Oliver and Lucy learned that little Blaine called us Daddy and Papa
 10

John, they said they wanted to call us Daddy and Papa, too. I was not prepared for the idea that all of these
children were in various degrees mine, but the generosity with which John had come to embrace an inclusive
notion of family and celebrate the Blaines modeled my path to acceptance. Having set out to have two
children, I was suddenly contemplating four. To bring us closer had been part of Lauras purpose in helping us,
and it worked. By little Blaine, by the imminent George, by Oliver and Lucy, I had been changed, and children
made me happy.

On April 9, 2009, at 9:45 p.m., at Abbott-Northwestern Hospital in downtown Minneapolis, we got a view of
Georges pate, and then Laura pushed six times, and out he popped, into Johns arms. I cut the cord. We
summoned Oliver and Lucy from the waiting room; we called Blaine and my father. John was instantly
enraptured, as I knew he would be. For nine months, wed felt the favor Laura did us almost as though
someone had offered to carry an increasingly heavy bag of groceries up an increasingly steep staircase, but
that day we understood that she had made a life for us. We saw clearly for the first time something wild and
heroic in her, an acreage of heart and valor beyond anything our male experience had taught us.

Planning to have a baby had been my department; caring for one was Johns. I had taught him about
determination, about doing things instead of simply imagining them; now he taught me about experiencing
those things. We had been advised that if the Defense of Marriage Act were repealed, we should have a
marriage legally recognized where we live, so we had a second wedding in Connecticut, two years after our
English one. We incorporated a naming ceremony for George, appointing godparents and honorary aunts. It
was momentous to hear the Danbury city clerk declare us husband and husband and just as consequential to
have all four children together for the first time. I keep on my iPhone a portrait from that day, a visual aid for
elucidating how we are all related. I wrote this story to usurp that image.

When John and I were invited to the White House Easter Egg Roll last spring, we explained that we were an
extended nuclear family, and the whole lot of us went. When my stepsister got married in October, all four
children were pages or bridesmaids. We spent most of December together in the candyland of a New York
Christmas, and it was revisionist Rockwell, the four kids around the tree at my fathers house. Loving John had
helped me to become whole, and loving these children rooted me in that wholeness. I had feared ahead of
time that I might not love my children enough; now I am enthralled by Georges fascination with the moon; by
little Blaine announcing, when she saw that I had cut my finger, You need a mommy, and fetching a Band-Aid;
by Oliver and Lucy debating whether to leave a ginger cookie for Santa or give it to John and me.

Little Blaine has learned to say, soulfully, I miss you, Daddy, even when we are together, which used to break
my heart. During a vacation in June, I took her for a walk, leaving Blaine and Richard in a restaurant with John
and George. As I was pointing out sights, she said, Oh, Daddy, Im so happy, and when I picked her up, she
leaned her head on my collarbone and said, I miss you. The next morning, out on a boat, she threw her arms
around her mother, and said, I miss you, and I realized that for her, miss and love meant one idea. I have
come to use the words interchangeably myself. I miss my children even when Im beside them, and
acknowledging that ache seems the best way to contain it. Although he would never forsake the kids we have,
 11

John maintains that he could have been happy without children, but now that I know this joy, I feel I could not. I
dwell too much in abstraction and the future, and parenting has taught me the present time that children
require, where contentment, even rapture, reside.

All happy families are the same, and yet, when my brother says he loves his wife and children, everyone is
delighted; when I speak of loving my family, people are often shocked and occasionally disgusted. Our
affection becomes politicalthrilling in a way, but Id prefer to have intimacy untainted by purpose. That photo
on the iPhone often seems euphemistic, because what it shows looks easy. It is exhilarating to be Christopher
Columbus landing on the wilder shores of love, but sometimes one would prefer to live where the luxury hotels
have already been built and Internet access is wireless. Most people expect to have children, and there are
susceptibilities attached to that; I had expected not to have children, and the reversal contains stranger ones. I
have had to separate the relief of escaping that tragic childlessness to which my parents gave so much airtime
and the reality of human beings for whom I am variously responsible. It must be easier when there is a script.

Once George arrived, the urgent question arose of how all these relationships might constellate. John and I
have complete charge of George; Blaine and I had agreed in advance that we would make the major decisions
about little Blaine together; Laura and Tammy have separate parental authority, and we do not set the course
for Oliver and Lucy, nor Laura and Tammy for George. The three arrangements are different, and as most
parents suppress sibling rivalry, we struggle to avoid situational comparison. I would not obscure the frictions
sparked by conflicting priorities and boundaries, disparate resources, myriad parenting styles - but they are
dwarfed by the fact that it all somehow functions. We have earned the familial relationships into which others
stumble, and there is a veterans peace in our mutual devotion.

John and I sent out birth announcements that included a picture of us with George. One of Johns cousins
returned it with a note that said, Your lifestyle is against our Christian values. We wish to have no further
contact. Some people scorn the idea of calling five adults and four children in three states a family, or believe
that the existence of our family undermines theirs. I do not accept competitive models of love, only additive
ones. I espouse reproductive libertarianism, and would propose that when everyone has the broadest choice,
love itself expands. I would never want to be smug about the affection we all found in one another. It is not a
better love than others, but it is another love, and just as species diversity is crucial to sustain the planet, this
diversity strengthens the ecosphere of kindness.

Even the most liberal courts note, apparently in approval, that gay people does not make their children gay. If
one suggests that black people should be able to reproduce so long as the kids are white, one sees how much
prejudice is enmeshed in even ostensibly pro-gay arguments about family. Its disorienting to recognize that the
more conventional our choices are, the more radical we are, that my days of party hopping and sexual
adventuring were tolerable, but that our arguing about how much to babyproof, thinking about preschools,
buying a swing set, and joining a church constitute an assault on family values. Theres a bizarre and hateful
inversion in this. American modernity is built on our liberation from a pernicious 1950s model of the nuclear
 12

family that was never true in the first place, and those who attempt to preserve that model are not
conservatives, but regressives.

The change has already happened; its only the law that lags. The road less traveled, as it turns out, leads to
pretty much the same place.

Books That Changed Me

To the Lighthouse Virginia Woolf I read this book in my freshman year of college and I remember feeling
almost shaken by it; it was as though someone had found all the unsayable things in my own mind and cloaked
them in language. This was the story of my relationship with my mother; of my relationship with time; of my
relationship with the written word. Many writers do something I cant do; Woolf does what I can do, but so, so
much better than I could ever do it.

War and Peace Leo Tolstoy Id never been interested in this thick book, but I was writing about Russia
and it began to feel like a gap in my education. I had an hour-long train ride twice every day in Moscow and I
read the whole book on that train, week after week. I love the shocking intimacy of the grandest moments here,
and the arresting universality of the most personal ones. Few authors can paint an entire, self-contained world,
but this is one, as complex and as real as reality itself.

The Complete Poems Emily Dickinson I always had a taste for the quirky and the metaphysical, and
Dickinsons ability to capture despair and hope in a single poem continues to move me. I love her self-effacing
voice, her quiet insistence on nuance, her wry and halting images, and her ease with death. There is a peculiar
kindness in her writing as well, half-hidden by her intense curiosity. She lives in the poems more than she ever
lived in real life. They make you breathe in life anew.

A Different Person James Merrill This isnt an important book, but its an impossibly charming one, and
in its depiction of a gay persons journey to self-acceptance, it has great resonance for me. James Merrill
writes of the period before he was established as a great poet, and describes what he needed to figure out
not so much how to write as how to live. How to learn to love. And how to put that learning into practice. His
book shows us how to do the same.

Rootabaga Stories Carl Sandburg I think I fell in love with language the day my father first read to me
from the Rootabaga Stories. Carl Sandburg said he wrote them as American fairy tales for people who hadnt
grown up with kings and princesses and castles. But I loved them for their music, their subtle melancholy, their
untrammeled imagination, and for their poignant wit. Reading them to my own children now, I recognize how
much my literary voice has borrowed from Sandburgs distinctly American cadence.