a memoir of magic and madness

eloquent reflection from Hannah Murray

Earlier this week I had the pleasure of attending an event featuring Hannah Murray, reading from and discussing her newly-published memoir The Make-Believe.

The book chronicles Hannah’s growing involvement with a wellness group, its increasing regime of rituals and doctrines, and her eventual sectioning in a state of psychosis. At the event, Hannah disclosed her subsequent diagnosis of bipolar disorder and the fact that she takes medication which has - thus far - successfully suited her.

I didn’t get the sense that Hannah identifies as mad, she certainly didn’t refer to herself in this way. She did however note the diversity of viewpoints that exist around mental health, and she spoke very compassionately about the challenges of being ‘othered’ and about the fundamentally beneficial nature of being listened to and treated with dignity as a person. She acknowledged the complexity and contextuality of the mad experience, and carefully distinguished her story as her own.

Having only been published at the end of May, I hadn’t (and still haven’t) finished the book - though I’ve read enough to recognise Hannah’s skill in recounting her memories in immense detail. She very beautifully captures the progression of thoughts and emotions over a period of months, which eventually spiraled and led to breakdown.

The Make-Believe also shines a spotlight on the wellness industry, and on the many promises (sometimes false) that it offers. A decade on from the events in the book, Hannah very wisely reflected in hindsight that healing ourselves and our inner wounds requires time, effort, patience and faith; it’s not a quick fix to be bought and paid for.

She also very eloquently distilled some of her learning in a brief observation, made in response to an audience member’s question about how she now feels about her belief in magic (which was a major feature in her mind’s unraveling during breakdown.) Hannah replied by appealing to the ordinary magic of sitting in a room with six beautiful, glittering chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Magic, she pointed out, is a matter of perception.

Having spent her twenties as a fairly successful actress in popular shows such as teen drama Skins and smash hit Game of Thrones, Hannah’s memoir receives relatively high profile and will very likely attract some amount of shallow and sanist commentary from the wider public. Exposing her personal vulnerability in such vivid detail took a great amount of courage, and delving into her lived experience, over and over as she promotes the book, takes no small measure of fortitude. If the event I attended is anything to go by, Hannah will meet the scrutiny with both intelligence and grace.

The Make-Believe: a memoir of magic and madness is published by Hutchinson Heinemann.