Love's Executioner and Other Tales of Psychotherapy

This was a truly insightful book. Gifted to me from a dear friend in the field, psychology has long been an interest of mine from a simple outsider-looking-in perspective. I'm fascinated by how people think, and the almost-paradox of a socially caring profession that can decode the complexity of the human down into different frameworks of behavioural predispositions while, at the same time, balance the randomness and absurdity of what a mind can think and influence.

A massive misconception of mine, though, has been my understanding of the therapist. Are these mythical figures able to turn into stable, unflappable super humans in the face of crisis and disturbing moments? Are they able to control their own biases? How do they do that!? What is the end result of ‘good' therapy? Is complete transformation always the aim? Or is basic change in personhood suffice?

Love's Executioner speaks into these questions with fearless transparency. I was struck by the honesty and vulnerability of Irvin Yalom. Throughout the pages he decompresses and brings the reader into those internal, private moments either in therapy itself, or between sessions, where his mind wanders and responds to the reality unfolding in front of him. His free associations are at times almost uncomfortably private - but I feel this is precisely what he's trying to achieve; a unaltered, real-time unravelling of a human working with a fellow human. For all its seriousness, I found his desire to portray his ‘human' side often entertaining and funny - a beautiful companion piece to some of the more outlandish therapy stories.

I feel privileged to have read this book, as if I was the recipient of a Willy Wonker-style gold ticket to a room and scenario the public isn't meant to dwell in. It taught me a lot about the field, about the mind, and about the depth of thought.