John Brooks
Cheshire, United Kingdom

Whether or not bipolar disorder enhances artistic expression is a contentious topic.¹ Graham Greene (1904–1991), a renowned twentieth-century author, believed that his illness was an essential part of the material of his novels.² As a troubled teenager, he underwent psychoanalysis following a bout of depression. In his more mature years, he was diagnosed as suffering from manic-depression, better described today as bipolar disorder by Eric Strauss, a consultant psychiatrist at the Tavistock Clinic and Saint Bartholomew’s Hospital. Writing was encouraged as a type of therapy to escape his melancholia.

Because he was older at the time of his diagnosis, Greene did not benefit from the giant steps that have been made in the treatment of bipolar disorder. The early experiments of John Cade in the 1950s lead to the commercial use of lithium as an innovative prophylactic mood stabilizer in 1971. Greene did, however, seek his own ways of escape by using alcohol, amphetamines, and barbiturates, as well as bouts of international travel for relief of his ennui. Unfortunately, this pattern of behavior could also trigger manic episodes that sometimes ended in despair.

Bipolar disorder is often described as a rollercoaster existence, and this description could be applied to Greene. He alluded to the fact that his characters, although unlike him in many ways, had emotions that were similar to his.³ He confessed to Vivien, his wife, that his condition made marriage and other relationships difficult because of his frequent moods swings, bouts of depression, and restlessness.⁴ He described these episodes as a curse.⁵

My first introduction to Graham Greene was as a medical student, when I was enticed by the title Our Man in Havana. After a few chapters, laced with author’s dry sense of humor, the narrative gradually descends into a tragic phase, resulting in three unexpected deaths. Without knowing it, I had strayed into “Greeneland,” that exciting, unstable, and sometimes hostile world of the mind associated with the author. Even more complex is the mood spectrum in Greene’s novels that is reflective of both his mental illness and his creative genius.⁶ Like many readers, I could not help being drawn to his works and their unpredictable endings.

In 1966, Greene relocated to Antibes in southern France. He continued to travel to far flung places, particularly to South America, where he had many friends, and to Russia to meet his old pal, the infamous spy Kim Philby. Greene was a generous man who occasionally behaved like Don Quixote, tilting his pen in place of a lance in the pursuit of justice. Towards the end of his life, he moved to Switzerland to be near his family. There, he started treatment for aplastic anemia, which required blood transfusions every two weeks.⁷ He died on April 3, 1991. In his last few days, he was anxious to know what the afterlife had in store for him. It seems likely that if Greene had been able to take effective treatment for his bipolar disorder, his social and domestic life would have been much improved. But who knows if we would have had such wonderful novels with the special atmosphere that exists in Greeneland.

References

1. Johnson Sheri L, Murry Greg, Fredrickson Barbara, et al. Creativity and bipolar disorder: Touched with fire or burning with questions? Clin Psychol Rev. 2012 Feb;32(1):1-12.
2. Greene R. Graham Greene: A Life in Letters. Edited by Richard Greene, Little Brown, 2007, 4, 159-60.
3. Cloetta Y. In Search of a Beginning: My Life with Graham Greene. Bloomsbury Publishing, 2005, 7, 49.
4. Greene R. Graham Greene: A Life in Letters.
5. Graham Greene Birthplace Trust. Graham Greene’s grandson interviewed. April 8, 2021. https://grahamgreenebt.org/graham-greenes-grandson-interviewed/
6. Edwards B. Mood Spectrum in Graham Greene 1929-1949. Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2015.
7. Greene R. Russian Roulette: The Life and Times of Graham Greene. R. Abacus, 2021.