The artist's struggle with mental illness is well trodden literary territory, but this memoir avoids the common clichés. There's no trace of nostalgia, mawkishness, self-pity or bitterness; neither does the author attempt to draw any predictable conclusions or proffer worthy insights on her experiences of mania. Throughout the book the protagonist remains fundamentally grounded, and even during the most psychologically turbulent episodes her descriptions are prosaic, curious, analytical, sometimes almost clinically detached.
By contrast many of the other characters in her world appear far stranger: a deluded painter varnishes unfortunate lizards for his art; a creepy obsessive fan waits on the doorstep clutching a sinister postcard and a flower; vintage Hollywood star Betty Hutton drinks pond scum in an effort to lose weight; even Joseph Campbell turns out to harbour an unreasonable hatred of dogs. Unusually for a musician's memoir, all of her band members are almost unbelievably sweet and unassuming, but no-one attracts anything more than bemusement or playful criticism. Though Hersh's family appear only on the periphery (perhaps a little too much so for the reader) her relationships are beautifully observed, warm, funny and affectionate.
Comparisons with The Bell Jar are inevitable but lazy: although superficially similar, this is a very different book. It may not top your holiday reading list (as you'd expect, some passages make for uncomfortable reading) but Paradoxical Undressing is a well crafted, moving and surprisingly uplifting account of a short, pivotal chapter in someone's life.