You probably know the name because of the movie. Winona Ryder, Angelina Jolie, that heavy 90s alt-rock energy. But if you only know the film, you’re missing the actual point of books by Susanna Kaysen. She isn’t just the "Girl, Interrupted" lady. She’s a writer who treats her own life like a specimen under a microscope, and sometimes she doesn't like what she sees.
Honestly, her writing is a lot weirder and sharper than Hollywood makes it look.
Most people think her career started and ended with a psychiatric ward in Massachusetts. It didn't. She’s written novels about anthropologists in the North Atlantic and memoirs about literal, physical pain that no doctor can explain. Her voice is dry. It’s clinical. Sometimes it’s so detached it feels like she’s writing about a stranger.
That’s the magic of it, though. She doesn’t ask for your pity.
The Reality of Girl, Interrupted
Let’s talk about the big one. Published in 1993, Girl, Interrupted is the cornerstone of any conversation about books by Susanna Kaysen. It’s short. You can read it in an afternoon. But it sticks.
The book isn't a linear story like the movie. It’s a collection of vignettes. She mixes her memories with actual photocopies of her medical records. Seeing the "Borderline Personality Disorder" diagnosis typed out in that old-school typewriter font hits different than seeing a character talk about it on screen.
The McLean Connection
Kaysen spent nearly two years at McLean Hospital. This wasn't some Dickensian nightmare hole. It was a posh place for the affluent. Sylvia Plath had been there. So had James Taylor and Ray Charles.
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She calls it a "parallel universe."
In the book, she questions the very nature of sanity. She asks how a twenty-minute interview with a doctor she’d never met resulted in a two-year commitment. It’s a critique of the 1960s social rigidness. If you didn't want to get married or go to college, you were "interrupted." You were broken.
Why Far Afield is the Forgotten Gem
If you want to see her range, you have to look at her 1990 novel Far Afield. It’s a complete pivot.
The story follows Jonathan Brand, a Harvard anthropology grad student. He goes to the Faroe Islands to study the culture. It’s funny. Like, actually laugh-out-loud funny in a "fish out of water" way. Jonathan is kind of a pretentious wreck. He struggles with the food (lots of whale and fermented mutton) and the fact that he can’t really "study" people who are just trying to live their lives.
It’s an expert look at outsiderness.
Kaysen lived in the Faroe Islands herself, so the details are visceral. You can smell the salt and the sheep. It’s a book about how we try to categorize people to make ourselves feel smarter—sorta like how the doctors categorized her at McLean.
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The Controversy of The Camera My Mother Gave Me
This is the one that makes people uncomfortable. Published in 2001, it’s a memoir about chronic pain. Specifically, vaginal pain.
It’s blunt.
The title comes from a line in a Luis Buñuel film, Viridiana. People expected another mental health memoir, but Kaysen gave them a "medical mystery" about a body part that stopped working right. She details the "vulvologists," the useless creams, and the way the medical establishment treats women’s pain as a psychological fluke.
- It’s only about 150 pages.
- It destroyed her relationship at the time.
- It offers no "miracle cure" ending.
Critics were split. Some called it brave; others thought it was TMI. But if you’ve ever dealt with an invisible illness, it’s probably the most validating thing you’ll ever read. She captures that specific frustration of being a "difficult patient" when the doctors just don't have the answers.
Cambridge and the Intellectual Life
Her more recent work, Cambridge (2014), goes back to her roots. It’s a "novel-from-life."
Growing up in 1950s Cambridge, Massachusetts, was a specific kind of experience. Her father, Carl Kaysen, was a famous economist. Her world was filled with professors, Nobel laureates, and intense intellectual pressure.
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The book captures the "pretensions and charms" of that world. It’s nostalgic but not sugary. She looks at her younger self as a precocious, slightly alienated kid who felt out of place even in her own house. It explains a lot about the woman who would eventually find herself at McLean.
What to Read First?
If you’re diving into books by Susanna Kaysen, don't just stop at the famous one.
Start with Girl, Interrupted for the context. Then, move to The Camera My Mother Gave Me if you want to see her at her most raw and clinical. Save Far Afield for when you want a break from the heavy stuff—it’s her most "literary" and imaginative work.
The Kaysen Method
- Read the medical records in Girl, Interrupted first. They provide the "official" version before she gives you her truth.
- Look for the theme of "outsiderness" in every book. It’s the thread that ties her anthropology novel to her mental health memoirs.
- Don't expect a happy ending. Kaysen doesn't do "happily ever after." She does "I survived, and here’s what it looked like."
Kaysen’s work is a reminder that being "interrupted" isn't the end of a life. It’s just a change in the rhythm. Her books aren't just about madness or sickness; they're about the weird, uncomfortable reality of having a body and a mind that don't always follow the rules.
To truly understand her impact, you should compare the clinical notes in her memoirs with her narrative voice. Notice how she uses the "unreliable narrator" trope on herself. It's a sophisticated way of showing that even she isn't sure where the "illness" ends and her "personality" begins.
Next Step: Pick up a copy of Far Afield to see how Kaysen applies her sharp observational skills to a culture entirely different from her own, rather than just focusing on her personal history.