
The association of literature with health and human flourishing has a history almost as long as that of reading itself. The earliest verified library, constructed around 1250 BC at the tomb complex of Rameses II, bore the inscription Psyches Iatreion, ‘Healing Place of the Soul’ on the lintel above its portal. The ancient Greeks intentionally staged their tragedies to provide catharsis to theatre-goers and the Romans prescribed the reading of orations to improve mental health. Apollo was god of both poetry and healing. The Al-Mansur hospital in Cairo, founded in 1272 AD, maintained libraries within their walls for both patients and staff and prescribed readings of the Koran as medical treatment. Physician and philosopher, Galen of Pergamon, held his personal library at a Roman therapeutic spa, Sanctuary Ascelpion.
During the Renaissance, literature was valued for its redemptive and comforting function. A poem, said George Puttenham, in The Art of English Poesy (1589), offers “the remedy of a long and grievous sorrow.” William Shakespeare, in his play Titus Andronicus, implored, “Come, and take choice of all my library, And so beguile thy sorrow…” Across Europe in the 17th, 18th, and 19th century, doctors recommended books to their patients, for guidance and respite. During World War I, librarians and Red Cross volunteers began installing libraries in army hospitals to offer soldiers a way to manage post-war trauma.
In 1916, an American minister, Samuel Crothers, combined the Greek words for book and healing to coin the term ‘bibliotherapy,’ the process in which the facilitated reading of literature is used to promote understanding and growth. Bibliotherapy grew in popularity; training programs were developed and theoretical models were offered in scientific journals. With the mid-20th century deinstitutionalisation of mental health care, bibliotherapy was moved into a variety of clinical, educational, and community settings. No universal definition for bibliotherapy has emerged from research or practice, given the variable processes, objectives, measures, participants, and contexts in which it is applied.
One approach – shared reading – uses a collaborative group model in both clinical and community settings. Poems, short stories, and novels are read aloud and discussed, facilitated by a non-health practitioner. This model draws from the longstanding conviction of the curative properties of literary reading. The current practice of shared reading provides an opportunity to move from conviction to evidence. Rigorous studies have investigated the health and wellbeing effects of reading aloud and discussing literature with others. In next month’s blog post, I will more closely examine how, for many, shared reading groups have become a ‘healing place of the soul.’