Review of The Naked Room by Willa Schneberg

THE NAKED ROOM, Willa Schneberg. Broadstone Books, 418 Ann St., Frankfort, KY 40601, 2023, 93 pages, $18.50 paper, www.broadstonebooks.com.

Willa Schneberg’s The Naked Room is an open door to the history of psychotherapy, a collection of poems that spotlight pioneers of the medical field, famous institutionalized patients, the treatments (and “treatments”) of various mental illnesses, and her own experiences as a practicing psychotherapist. The poems are divided into six sections— Asylum, Case History, Straitjacket, Fifty-Minute Hour, Reality Testing, and Termination—but each one is a brief and gripping reality all on its own, a testament to Schneberg’s willingness to deeply explore the nebulous parameters that are used to define and address mental health.

Schneberg’s knowledge of the treatment of the mind has created a dark and harrowing empathy. Most of the pieces in this collection are persona poems that dive into the minds of troubled people, both real and imagined—and even into the perspective of a straitjacket:  I wrap my canvas arms around, / perhaps a little too lightly. / … your arms are nicely crossed and contained (“Love”). She does not flinch from the brutal and dehumanizing practices forced on people throughout history, the way those practices are packaged as a form of love.

Some of the voices in this collection display straightforward psychosis, such as the unnamed asylum patient who narrates the opening poem, “Yellow Halo”: One at a time in my mind I hold a marvel just so, / until it emerges through a slit in my back that opens / and closes and disappears when God whispers. However, many of these poems follow people who clearly struggled and never received help, such as the Nepalese prince who murdered his family or the wife of a Cambodian official who threw acid on her husband’s younger lover: My husband is a powerful man, / high up in the government. Powerful men don’t grow old, / like their wives (“Ugly”). There is a grim and dark compassion to these poems, a willingness to look at the source of unimaginable behavior and treat it with understanding. It is a reminder that actions that seem like sudden madness can grow out of trauma, fear, frustration, and deeply unjust power structures.

Many of my favorite poems in this collection include the sly reminders that our concepts of mental health are inextricably tied up in cultural beliefs and biases. “Admission Criteria for Oregon State Insane Asylum, 1906,” a found poem from the Oregon State Hospital Museum’s Display Board, includes Childbed Fever / Christian Science / Disappointment in Love and even Worry as potential markers of insanity, while “Intake at the Canton Asylum for Insane Indians” reminds us that our recent history holds the following racist beliefs:

It doesn’t really matter what it is:
Creek, Apace or Sioux.
She’s just another imbecile.

If you kill the Indian,
you save the man.

I was fortunate enough to attend Schneberg’s reading at The Naked Room’s book launch, which was an excellent reminder that her expertise is in her psychotherapy practice just as much as it is in poetry. While reading these pieces, she would pause to elaborate on an entry from the DSM-V or share the true story that inspired a poem. The Notes section of the collection functions in the same way, providing essential context for understanding cultural beliefs, historical figures, and the way our concepts of madness have changed over decades and centuries.

Schneberg’s psychotherapy practice also led to some of the more poignant poems in the book, which are found in the section Fifty-Minute Hour and deal with the emotional and mental strength required to be a therapist. You carry their angst with you— / a basket filled with quivering raw eggs. / Clients must never know your fear of cracking (“Confidentiality”). The delicate act of being an empathetic human being—of creating a vulnerable “naked room” for a client while keeping essential parts of yourself separate—is one of the most interesting explorations of humanity in this deeply human collection. Schneberg notes in the poem “Unspoken” that she and her client are Alone together / we face each other. / You have your place, / I have mine.

Informative and incisive, The Naked Room explores a bleak history of trauma while remaining deftly empathetic and expansively kind. Its exploration of mental health reminded me of all the ways that we are alone together and what our next steps might be.