Bedlam

Higgie, author of The Mirror and the Palette, captivates in this poetic story of English artist Richard Dadd (1817–1886) and his descent into madness. The story opens in Broadmoor Hospital in 1885, where an elderly Dadd was committed years earlier, and where he’s made much of his work. Reflecting on his life, he focuses on his travels as a young man with his patron Sir Thomas Phillips, shortly before a psychotic break sent him to a series of hospitals. In 1842, Dadd and Sir Thomas leave London for their tour across Europe to North Africa and the Middle East. Higgie peppers the travelogue with foreshadowing, as when Dadd admits of his time in Venice, “There have been moments when I have exploded with a rage that has surprised even me.” In Egypt, he becomes convinced that a man is following him. As the trip draws to a close, Dadd’s musings veer into the misjudgments of a madman: “However flimsy the attempt, I must try to protect whatever innocence there may be on board this vessel.” Told in short chapters, the story culminates in an act of violence that confirms Dadd’s descent into lunacy. It’s an arresting meditation on the fragility of sanity. (July)