In a small, frightening room in the psychiatric hospital where my wife had recently incarcerated me, I explained to the staff psychiatrist about Olivier Ameisen and the drug baclofen. Ameisen and I share an American publisher, and my editor, who knew about my battle with the bottle, had sent me an early copy of his book. The psychiatrist surprised me by saying: 'Let me look into it, but I'm willing to try it.' He was, he told me, a child psychiatrist, which immediately seemed both inevitable and desirable. I didn't joke with him about it, however. No joking of any kind with the psychiatrist. He had just told me he thought I could leave in a few days, much sooner than most. I didn't want to take any chances.

LRB 9 July 2009 | PDF Download