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Few psychoanalysts have succeeded as novelists. Even though many psychoanalytic case studies sound fictional, the writing of compelling fiction requires what Eugene O'Neill called “a touch of the poet.” Most analysts do not come by that gift naturally, nor do they acquire it through reading the psychoanalytic contributions that grace the pages of our journals. Over a period of five decades, Allen Wheelis has shown himself to be an exception. Quietly, consistently, and unpretentiously, he has crafted a series of novels, including The Scheme of Things and The Doctor of Desire, while also writing substantial nonfiction works that have had a wide-ranging influence on students, experienced clinicians, and the educated public. Now in his eighties, Wheelis has published a memoir. In his usual self-effacing manner, he describes it as “not yet a self-portrait, more a self-sketch.” In keeping with this description, it is a selective memoir, leaving out substantial portions of his life narrative, including any details of his own analysis. It is a work of nonfiction with the poetic style of a novel. As one might expect from an analyst, the book involves an internal narrative that is somewhat free-associational, weaving in and out of external events in the author's life. As one would also expect, based on Wheelis's previous work, it is unflinching, beautifully written, and deeply affecting.
The reader learns that the author grew up in an impoverished Southern family, his early years haunted by the decline and death of a consumptive father. There are heartrending scenes from this formative period. Young Wheelis learns to shoot sparrows under the tutelage of his demanding and authoritarian father. When his aim is less than perfect, he is met with stony silence. Instead of being allowed to play baseball with his peers, he is made to cut the grass with a straight razor, a task that leaves his hands bleeding and that takes the entire summer to complete. After his father's death, the b