Review: The Body Keeps the Score

Cover image of "The Body Keeps the Score" by Bessel van der Kolk, M.D.

The Body Keeps the Score, Bessel van der Kolk. Penguin Books (ISBN: 9780143127741) 2015.

Summary: An account of the growing understanding of the effects of trauma on the brain and the body and promising treatments.

Since its initial publication in 2014, The Body Keeps the Score has prompted a widespread conversation about the effects of trauma on the brain and body. Particularly, in recent years the focus on #MeToo and on race-based trauma have extended the conversation.

For Bessel van der Kolk, his awareness of trauma began with some of the Vietnam war veterans he was seeing. They suffered from nightmares, waking flashbacks, hair-trigger anger responses, alcoholism, depression and suicidal ideation. They also often felt detached from their lives. This book traces the growing understanding of the effects of trauma that didn’t fit existing clinical diagnoses or treatments. Often, efforts to treat symptoms brought little relief.

This book chronicles the learning journey of van der Kolk and other clinicians to understand trauma. A key to all of this was the growing field of neuroscience. They found that the brains of the traumatized were not like others. Either they were in an amygdala-triggered hyper-vigilant state that bypassed the pre-frontal cortex, or they were shut down. Not only this, effects of trauma were also evident in the body from auto-immune issues, headaches, and a number of other somatic complaints. They discovered genes that turned on under stress. Hence the book’s title: the body does keep score.

While his work began with soldiers, van der Kolk began to realize the ongoing marks on mind and body of childhood traumas. These include physical and sexual as well as emotionally abusive situations. They learned to take trauma histories. But they also learned that people were not always consciously aware, or could only remember bits and pieces. And these memories were not integrated parts of one’s life story.

The final part of the book describes a variety of therapeutic approaches. In one sense, trauma cannot be undone. But people can learn to manage the feelings, the triggers that bring up the past. They can learn to be present to others. And they can stop keeping secrets from the self. The author describes the use of neurofeedback, mindfulness, and cognitive behavioral therapy. He devotes a chapter to finding the language to name one’s experience. Eye movement desensitization and reprocessing (EMDR) is another approach he describes in processing trauma. Because mind and body often detach in trauma, he also addresses approaches like yoga, theater, choral singing and others that re-establish that connection, often in the context of community.

The book combines explanation of neuroscience and physiology with case studies. Another aspect of the book is how the author describes his own learning journey. He considers patients his first teachers. But he also learns from other clinical approaches and allows himself to be the subject of those approaches, sharing how he changes through them. While not ruling out using medications, he prefers other approaches. This makes sense if the goal is for a person to be able to integrate traumatic memories, self-manage, and be present.

Two things I wonder about. One is the “grabbag” of therapeutic approaches. It seems important over time to develop standards of care, identifying the most effective therapies where possible. It also seems like we are in a pendulum swing from not recognizing trauma to possibly applying the label overly freely. I hear people describing listening to the news as traumatizing. Distressing, yes. But traumatizing? It doesn’t seem to be the same thing as childhood sexual abuse or rape. I wonder if clinicians will develop greater precision in what is labelled as and treated as trauma.

Still, I found this a fascinating book and can understand its path-breaking nature. Van der Kolk describes his own journey to understanding trauma’s effects on brain and body when there wasn’t a category for this. And he offers hope that, while we can’t undo trauma, what we’ve learned about neuroscience and therapy can help people get their lives back and understand and not just react to trauma. There is hope.

Review: Bastille Day

Bastille Day, Greg Garrett. Brewster, MA: Raven/Paraclete Press, 2023.

Summary: A brief love affair with a beautiful Muslim woman who he rescues from a suicide leads Cal Jones to come to terms with losses and traumatic memories and to discover that he is not alone.

Brave. And broken. Like James Bond. That is how Calvin Jones describes himself. Jones had been a war correspondent in Iraq where both his father and driver Khalid died in bomb attacks. He blamed himself for Khalid. He fled to the security of working at a local news station. For ten years. Life was good. He was in a serious relationship with Kelly McNair, an interior designer. They looked good together. Sex was pretty good. Then, before his eyes at a Black Lives Matter rally five police die including the officer he was riding with, who he watches bleed out before his eyes. The man had protected him with his life. And all the dreams, never distant, came back.

Rob, a fellow correspondent, sensing the troubled state of a former colleague invites him to join Rob’s news agency in Paris to cover terror attacks in Europe. He arrives the Monday before Bastille Day (July 14) in 2016. While waiting to meet Rob in Harry’s New York Bar he meets a beautiful Muslim woman, Nadia, highly educated but unhappy. In days she will be married to a Saudi millionaire, an arranged marriage that will greatly benefit her family. Except she doesn’t want this marriage and has contemplated suicide, jumping off a bridge into the Seine. As they part, he gives her his business card. Call, if she needs to talk. He doesn’t expect to hear from her. The marriage is in five days.

Out on a run, he receives a text. She is at the bridge, ready to jump. By providence, he is near, and when she jumps, he goes after her, rescues her, and takes her back to his apartment to dry off. And so begins an improbable love affair. He realizes that he never loved Kelly and that he does love this woman and doesn’t want her to marry the millionaire, even as she grapples with the implications for her family, herself, and even other Saudi women, if she refuses to take the burqah.

Amid all this, the Nice truck attack occurs, in which a Muslim, shouting Allahu-akbar (“God is greater”), drove a truck for a mile down a boulevard crowded with Bastille Day celebrants, killing or injuring 500. Cal is sent along with cameraman Ahmed, to cover the attack. It surfaces all the memories, the trauma, the anger. And he takes it out on Nadia, forgetting all he has learned of her and other honorable Muslim friends. Too late, he realizes how he has wronged the woman he loved and desperately tries to communicate. Silence.

He is a wreck. Drinking too much. Barely holding it together. Yet loved. By his Uncle Jack in Texas who would hop on a plane in a moment, talks straight sense. He and his wife pray like crazy. By Rob and his wife, going through a rough patch in their own marriage. By a former military chaplain and by Clarice, the dean of the American cathedral. And by Allison, an attractive lesbian and good friend. They have faith when Cal has lost his. No cliches. Presence. Honesty. Love.

Cal will need it. To face the complicated relationship with his deceased father. His guilt over Khalid. Over the police officer. Over Kelly who he does not love. He is broken and needs to find “brave” within it. Especially with Nadia who he can’t bear to lose despite the obligations she faces.

This is an adult novel from a Christian publisher. There is sex outside of marriage, though not graphically portrayed. There is violence that is graphically described. There is also a quietly compelling Episcopal community (as well as Uncle Jack) who make space to include Cal in their journey as far as he will go. He is both skittish from a fundamentalist youth, and broken from the horrors he has seen, including the horror he sees in himself. We wait to see how brave will he be.

Greg Garrett offers a finely drawn story occuring in the space of a week, peopled with characters we come to love, including Frederick the bartender at Harry’s New York Bar. We consider Christian-Muslim relations, in ways integral to, but never overshadowing, the plot. The dialogue is never trite, but reflects people who care about their lives and those of others, wrestling with fraught choice, life’s ambiguities, and the unanswered questions of suffering and loss. I will be thinking about Cal, Nadia and their friends for awhile…

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Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher.

Review: You Are Us

You Are Us, Gareth Gwyn. Austin: River Grove Books, 2023.

Summary: An account using case studies showing how self-understanding and inner work allows individuals to become leaders in healing polarized relationships.

It seems we are in a time of unprecedented polarization around politics, racial and sexual identity, religion, and socioeconomic status. Often, we feel these divisions are so deeply embedded, the wounds and grievances so great, that bridging those divides seem impossible. Gareth Gwyn, the founder of Let’s See Labs, an organization that develops media on various platforms and offers workshops “that facilitate sociocultural transformation” through work with individuals who become leaders in transformative cross-cultural relationships.

Gwyn traces our polarized relationships to the experience of inner trauma that often draw us into social identities of reaction in which we blame the pain on “them.” We act out of our trauma, even while being disconnected from it. Transformation results when a person, often in the presence of unconditional acceptance, is able to recognize the inner wounds and traumas that have led to looking at the world through a lens of hate and “us versus them.” The book uses several case studies (accessible as online videos through QR codes in the book) to show this transformative process. For me, the story of Scott, a former KKK member deeply alienated from his own family, who had a transformative encounter with a black man at a rehabilitation center, was the high point of this book, leading to a process through which Scott experienced inner healing and became a reconciliation leader.

The book moves from our inner healing to a posture of responsiveness that claims the freedom over our emotions and the choices of action in response to them. Recognizing our own worth, we recognize that of others. We face how we have contributed to polarities, even to our own victim status, while fully grasping both the role of the other and developing awareness of that person’s own wounds. We gain freedom both to embrace and move beyond our identities.

My only struggle with the book is that the author assumes a familiarity with the vocabulary of “inner work” which may feel like in-group jargon or “psychobabble” to some. Some explanation or translation of this terminology might help more effectively make the important case this book makes to a wider audience.

Gwyn’s book seems to illustrate an important idea articulated by Fr. Richard Rohr that, “If we do not transform our pain, we will most assuredly transmit it.” The cover art represents this transformation. It reads, “You Are Either With Us or Against Us.” As people do inner work dealing with their pain, Gwyn believes that we see how the other is actually “us” leading to the beginnings of bridging divides.

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Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher through Speakeasy