25 JUNE 1988, Page 39

The importance of being alone

Anita Brookner

THE SCHOOL OF GENIUS by Anthony Storr

Deutsch, £12.95, pp.216

This book brings excellent news for those who, whatever their reasons for so doing, live alone, and exceedingly bad news for polemicists like Mrs Thatcher and various tame theologians who proclaim the excellence, the stability, and the superior- ity of the family unit over all other forms of human life. I note in passing that Mrs Thatcher, in her speech to the Conserva- tive Women's Conference on 25 May, uttered the following article of faith: 'The family is the building block of society. It is a nursery, a school, a hospital, a leisure centre [my italics], a place of refuge and a place of rest. It encompasses the whole of society [my italics again]. It fashions our beliefs, it is the preparation for the rest of our life. And women run it.' That there are many things wrong with this pronounce- ment will be readily perceived by those whose family life is or has been less than wonderful. But what is most wrong with it is its exclusivity, and the wordless insult it delivers to those who can thus count themselves cut off from the whole of society as envisaged by Mrs Thatcher and her supporters because they may have no family to protect them or because they may have lost the family they once had. Rather more guilty in this respect than the Prime Minister herself are those ministers of religion who endorse her views. They at least should know better.

It is heartening to find a psychiatrist of Dr Storr's eminence diverging from this received wisdom and in fact advancing the opposite view, namely that solitude may be a natural human requirement and one that is essential for the growth and enrichment of the inner life. The fashion in psychother- apy today is to deal with groups, with the family, with relationships. The loquacious- ness brought about by this kind of practice has been appalling. Psychoanalysis is, and was always intended to be, a purer disci- pline, in which the patient, if the analysis is properly conducted, will talk as if he were alone. In prayer, the wishes of the heart, of the true self, come to consciousness be- cause one believes oneself to be alone with the Creator. In the discipline that leads to the slow evolution of a work of art solitude is essential. Nor is this requirement con- fined to artists, writers and musicians. Any pursuit that permits of uninterrupted rumination springs from the same source: no one has yet advocated communal gardening. And yet those who for one reason or another desire to be alone are regarded with pity and condescension, and can be interrupted without prior appoint- ment by those who believe the situation to be shameful. This activity is occasionally known as taking poor so-and-so out of him- or herself. Dr Storr's contention is that most people need to be put back into themselves, so that the real self can be more easily distinguished from the false or social self.

Solitude is also a practical requirement, much as dreaming is thought to be: for the processing of data. Thinking is a solitary function, and those whose early circum- stances are intolerable may escape them by means of fantasy. Such childish stra- tagems may lead to creative behaviour in later life. Trollope, to give a notable example, traced his formation as a novelist to his ability to outwit early unhappiness unhappiness largely occasioned by a defec- tive parent — by the device of voluntary daydreaming. Solitude may also be a re- quirement in mourning and bereavement. Many studies have shown that the man or woman who assumes normality and sociability too soon will reassure friends and colleagues but may in so doing mourn inadequately. It is not necessarily copious tears that will relieve the mourner so much as the deep inwardness of reflection needed to process a period of change. Yet many will evade this work, perhaps out of fear of madness. Madness, of course, will be a possibility, but derangement usually comes from solitude imposed by others and accompanied by sensory deprivation. Soli- tude chosen for its own sake is, or can be, rewarding.

Freud's two imperatives for normal func- tioning were the ability to love and the ability to work. Dr Storr would incline to think that this has been fatally misinter- preted. Freud weighted love and work equally. Yet common thinking overvalues the first at the expense of the second, and even scans work itself for its ability to deliver gratification. The point about work is that it is impersonal: it requires to be done over and above anybody's desire to do it. It engages the self that is less greedy, more abstract, than the self that yearns for love. While the high and unrealistic ex- pectations built on love and marriage may lead to disappointment, there is now a distinct possibility that work — of the frenetic and self-aggrandising variety may fail in the same way. Both the inner and the outer selves need to be engaged to deal with these activities. Romantic ideas of marriage may be a form of fiction dear to the human heart, but the true and complex self will need to seek other outlets. And these outlets should be awarded equal status. For it is precisely as a sign or confession of diminished status that solitude is often read, or misread. It is that error that Dr Storr's excellent and lucid book seeks to correct. Gibbon's assertion that 'solitude is the school of genius', from which the book takes its title, was certainly true for Gibbon himself. Dr Storr's heartening message is that some- thing like it is available for everyone.