The Shadow Factory

by Paul West, Diane Ackerman (Introduction)

From the introduction by Diane Paul West recalls the early days after his stroke, exploring some of the all-too-real tricks the mind plays to save itself from the tomb of lost words. Paul had a massive stroke, tailored to his own private hell. The author of over fifty stylishly written books, a master of English prose with one of the largest working vocabularies, a man whose life revolves around words, he had suffered brain damage to the key language areas of his brain and could no longer process language in any form. Global aphasia, it’s called, the curse of a perpetual tip-of-the-tongue memory hunt. He understood little of what people said, and all he could utter was the syllable “mem.” His prognosis was grim. The brain cells were dead in Broca’s and some of Wernicke’s area, he could no longer swallow food without choking, and it was a left-hemisphere stroke. After three weeks in the rehab unit, he was able to say “I can talk good coffee.” Still, it was a complete sentence. “You know, dear,” I said about two months later, when he was feeling mighty low, “maybe you want to write the first aphasic memoir.” He “Good idea! Mem, mem, mem.” And so he began dictating, sometimes with mountain-moving effort, and others sailing along at a good clip, an account of what the mental world of aphasia felt and looked like. Writing the book was the best speech therapy anyone could have prescribed.

Genres: Nonfiction

181 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 2008

About the author

Paul West (February 23, 1930) was an English-born novelist, literary historian and poet, the author of 24 novels, who lived in America since the early 1960s. He resided in upstate New York with his wife, the writer, poet and well-known naturalist Diane Ackerman, until his death in 2015. Paul, still remembered with affection by his old colleagues and friends in England as a big, jolly man, was born in Eckington, which is near (and now considered a part of) Sheffield in South Yorkshire, but was during West’s childhood a Derbyshire village associated with the famous literary Sitwells of Renishaw.
Paul was honoured with the American Academy of Arts and Letters Literature Award (1985), the Lannan Prize for Fiction (1993), the Grand Prix Halperine-Kaminsky Award (1993), and three Pushcart Prizes (1987, 1991, 2003). He was also a recipient of a Guggenheim Fellowship, a New York Public Library Literary Lion (1987), and a Chevalier of the Order of Arts and Letters 1996, France).
His parents, Alfred and Mildred, really cared for books, and created an environment which ensured that young Paul inherited a great passion for literature, which was enhanced when he went from his native village to study first at Oxford University in England and later at Columbia University in America. He never lived in England again after going to Columbia, and in later years Paul was involved with other US universities in teaching roles, notably Pennsylvania State University.
Paul West’s novels have included: ‘A Quality of Mercy’ (1961); ‘Tenement of Clay’ (1965); ‘Alley Jaggers’ (1966); ‘I'm Expecting to Live Quite Soon’ (1970); ‘Bela Lugosi's White Christmas’ (1972); ‘The Very Rich Hours of Count von Stauffenberg’ (1980); ‘Rat Man of Paris’ (1986); ‘The Women of Whitechapel and Jack the Ripper’ (1991); and ‘OK: The Corral, the Earps and Doc Holliday’ (2000).
His non-fiction has included the autobiographical ‘I, Said the Sparrow’, a delightful essay on his Eckington childhood; ‘The Growth of the Novel’ (1959), ‘The Modern Novel’ (in 2 vols, 1963); ‘Robert Penn Warren’ (1964); ‘Words for a Deaf Daughter’ (1969); ‘A Stroke of Genius: Illness and Self-discovery’ (1995); and the remarkable ‘The Shadow Factory’ (2008), the aphasic memoir he dictated with such struggle and resolve –it brings tears to the eyes and admiration to the heart, as we are reminded in reading it of the courage of this man. It is a ‘must-read’ in the context of the terrible stroke he suffered in 2003. Paul’s wife, Diane, also wrote about that stroke and its consequences in her book ‘One Hundred Names for Love: A Stroke, a Marriage and the Language of Healing’. Paul’s poetry collections include ‘Poems’ (1952), ‘The Spellbound Horses’ (1960), and ‘The Snow Leopard’ (1964).


Librarian Note: There is more than one author in the GoodReads database with this name.

Reviews

[Stephen Wong · Rating 5 out of 5]

It is true that Paul West not only had a massive stroke but also survived it with a massive effort of brain to come back in anabasis to regain his massive vocabulary. But you would not know it yourself -- what it means to be in the vice of Broca's aphasia, to lose language and what counts for hopeful therapy. It has got me thinking too how so knit the sound of speech is to brain function that even if muscles and jaw have to come to knots to produce that sound it is hearing in the den of nerves you would do more to overcome merely batting eyelashes to say something anything from that voided jar -- a capsule in space floating away out of orbit mouthing words that come as though across a din of molasses.

[Cat Treadgold · Rating 4 out of 5]

I suppose everyone who joins the stroke club by way of a loved one desperately searches for insight into their thoughts, which they can no longer express in any detail—at least for now, we hope. Touted as the first “aphasic memoir,” this book in particular caught my eye. Of course the problem with stroke, perhaps with any brain disorder, is that there is little common ground between victims. It all depends on the extent of the damage, where the damage occurred, the personality of the victim, what was stored in the brain to begin with…. This is a short book and it’s worth staying with it. The first part is better read as a sort of absurdist poetry, however. It is interesting, poetic, but not terribly illuminating if you’re looking for insight into the workings of a brain that struggles to translate thoughts into words. If you are tempted to give up early on, skip to the last quarter, when Mr. West finally breaks through into language. Throughout he is terribly arch, and that oh-so-British wit and sarcasm may annoy some readers. He is also self-deprecating, which endears him to us, and we can’t help but feel his frustration and irritation at his condition. Although I doubt my loved one’s thoughts bear much resemblance, I did find a little common ground and comfort. The memoir of Paul's wife is next on my list.

[MountainAshleah · Rating 4 out of 5]

I think this book can be appreciated and respected rather than enjoyed. I'd say it could be studied as well although we will never know the level of editing involved which kind of makes the memoir of aphasia a bit complicated and murky...how much is the work of a helping hand. Still, that West wrote this book at all is an astonishing achievement. Diane Ackerman is a bit of a shadow figure here, more like a distant relative than beloved wife, and I'm not sure why. Do read her memoir about this experience, One Hundred Names for Love. It's quite different even while addressing some of the same situations.

[Marianna Monaco · Rating 1 out of 5]

I was lead to read this book after reading Diane Ackerman's One Hundred Names for Love.
Diane's book describes in detail the aftermath of Paul West's stroke.
This is Paul's version, a representation of the mind and language of an aphasic.
Hard for me to follow.
However, after reading both books, I will explore Paul's earlier writing, having learned that before his stroke, he was known for his extensive vocabulary and lyrical writing style.

[Keith · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is one of the most moving books I have ever read --produced by a courageous guy from Eckington, near Sheffield, someone I knew 40 years ago, who suffered a massive stroke in 2003. The Shadow Factory is the story of that terrible misfortune and how West and his wife coped with it.

[Amanda · Rating 2 out of 5]

The framing of this book was so much more relatable to me than the content of the book. An amazing feat for sure, but I kept losing my place and thinking it did not matter. There were no handles to grab.

[Morag Kydd]

I guess there is a lot to learn from his experience. I guess have to find the thing first. There is a sample of it in this months Harpers(september). check it out.