Too Many Suicides

From the site: PsyArt:

“During his last years, Édouard Manet painted a Parisian dandy’s suicide. A painting that was clearly personal and private (it was never entered into the annual Paris Salon), "Le Suicidé" may reveal the artist’s conscious or unconscious wishes and desires. Using the post-Freudian concept of narcissism, I consider "Le Suicidé" a disguised self-portrait of the artist in the guise of a modern crucifixion. The Baudelairean persona of the avant-garde artist as a persecuted, tragic martyr recurs in Manet’s oeuvre scholars have viewed works of this nature as disguised self-portraits. Life-long feelings of persecution and critical disparagement lead to Manet’s fantasy of himself as a wounded martyr. Stricken with the debilitating, terminal stages of tertiary syphilis, Manet may have identified his life’s burden—alienation, public persecution and physical and psychic suffering—with the burden of the Christian Messiah”

I’ve known too many suicides. I used to keep count of them in the late 60’s and early 70’s but I eventually forgot them as it was too gruesome. I am now trying to get a few memories down on paper with out too much information, so I’m not opening old wounds for people. These things seem to have popularity and run for a while and they go out of favor again.

I never understood the depth of feeling involved in this. When the late Jim Striby and I were teaching at the Maryland Institute, we were very surprised at the number of graduate students, (we sort of had deeper conversations with them than with the younger ones), that had contemplated suicide. It was the majority! Neither one of us ever had had those feelings (being insensitive louts) and we were taken aback by this fact.

The earliest one I can remember was when I was a boy some kid (I knew) set himself on fire. He was about 13, he did it in a school yard and there was his report card nearby.

I can remember a speech I heard in the early 60’s by a Pennsylvania educator, speaking to the Howard County, MD teachers, who said that a number (as I remember it was about 500-600) of children committed suicide in Pennsylvania in 1963 (I think) and in every one of the suicides the child had his or her report card with them, and the youngest child was 8. This was a dramatic speech (I still remember it) and it helped ease the importance of grades in the minds of children and parents; at least for some of us.

My mother seemed to have some friends who did themselves in, whether on purpose or not. She had a friend; I can’t remember her name although I have a photo of her somewhere, who died from an overdose of pills and booze. This may have been in error, my mother thought.

My mother had a boss who was a very important and proud man, as she described him, who after discovering he had an incurable, debilitating disease, shot himself in the head.

I remember a friend who had run into some bad times, and was half way out of them, and then found new problems to take their place. These were all women problems, not drugs or criminal activities. He chose to shoot himself rather then face the reality. It was a shame. Especially as I see it now, so many years later, it just makes no sense.

My friend John who did himself in for an assortment of reasons that not one of us left really understands, stays in my memory. He will always be the fun guy he remains in the last photograph I have of him, taken in the 70’s.

I knew a young man who found his father dead, and lived with the scene impressed in his memory. As an adult, when he could take it no more, he did the same thing.

My mother’s friend’s daughter married a young man who fathered a child with her, and when the baby was little, went off and shot himself in a motel.

My youngest son had a friend whose brother did him self in, and it happened while I was in Europe. I remember speaking to him from Italy, and trying to block copycat activity from far away. Discussions with his mother from Europe ensued. If he’s reading this, it’s OK, its 25 years ago and I figure he’s out of the woods on this one.

It turns out that so far from the time, I have lost track of most of the names and dates however, the 60’s engendered much of this kind of activity. I know people still consider this as an alternative, and I am not talking about Dr. Kevorkian type drama, but people just trying to escape our reality. My heart goes out to them all, but I’ll never understand, as it still hasn’t crossed my mind.

It’s just too much fun being here.