Unconventional Collectors

          Walt Whitman, who wrote largely in the first person, is rumored to have refused to read the first-person poetry of anyone else; Voltaire is reported to have fainted at the smell of roses; Hans Christian Anderson is said to have been so afraid of being buried alive that he kept a note in his pocket and on his bedside table asking anyone who happened upon him to conduct a thorough investigation before supposing him to be dead (Wallechinsky and Wallace, par. 6-20). Yet, we do not remember these individuals for their bizarre behaviors. Instead, we focus on the wonderful works these extraordinary minds produced.

          It is often acknowledged in the fields of psychology dealing with abnormal behavior and mental faculties that “normalcy” is an exceedingly subjective and culturally relativistic concept. What, if anything, is normal? If we can agree upon a range of conventional behaviors and acceptable faculties, how far outside of that range is it acceptable for an individual to fall? And, if we assume the existence of a normal distribution of these attributes, what of the individuals ranked one or more standard deviations above normal; are they, too, flawed? The last question is, in my opinion, most fascinating—and one I couldn’t help but reflect on while reading the accounts of Phineas P. Gage and Elliot given in Antonio Damasio’s “Descartes’ Error.”

          One factor upon which I suspect our judgments of acceptable (and unacceptable) eccentricities are based is that of productivity. Walt Whitman, Voltaire, and Hans Christian Anderson were all eccentric-but-highly-productive men. If productivity were taken out of their personal equations, I imagine their idiosyncrasies would have inspired more concern. Before Gage and Elliot suffered damage to their brains, they were also known for their ability to efficiently accomplish tasks. The pre-injury Gage was described as “more than just another able body,” and was even touted by his employers as the “‘most efficient and capable’ man in their employ” (Damasio 4). After suffering damage to his brain, he was unable to resume his duties as a foreman of Rutland & Burlington Railroad. Sadly, he became something of a “circus attraction,” and developed a propensity for “collectors behavior” (Damasio 9). Similarly, Elliot was remembered as an “intelligent, skilled, and able-bodied man” before his brain was affected by a tumor (Damasio 34). But like Gage, after sustaining brain damage Elliot was terminated from his place of work, and became something of a collector—which was “less than practical when the collected objects were junk” (Damasio 37).

          Gage and Elliot’s cases were fairly clear in that they had both experienced demonstrable injuries to their brains and had subsequently undergone significant personality changes. However, the deficiencies Gage and Elliot later demonstrated are present in other individuals from birth. It is possible that such deficiencies in these individuals are the result of pre- or parinatally sustained neurological damage, or genetic abnormalities. But both possibilities are sometimes extremely difficult to demonstrate. Without causal evidence, arriving at a diagnosis—or even deciding if one should be given—can be a daunting task. Here too, I suspect productivity is often a key ingredient. It seems that our decisions are not based solely on the nature of the individual’s deficiency, but on the impact that deficiency has on their ability to be a productive member of society. In other words, will their life result in a collection of literature, or a collection of junk?

Works Cited

Demasio, Antonio. Descarte's Error. New York: Penguin, 1994. Print.

Wallechinsky, David, and Irving Wallace. Weird Behavior of Famous People. 1975. N.p.: n.p., 1981. N. pag. The People's Almanac. Trivia-Library.com. Web. 20 Feb. 2011.