Lillian Rubin and the Man With the Beautiful Voice

Man With the Beautiful Voice

Lillian Rubin's The Man with the Beautiful Voice is not just about one man, but about seven different cases she worked on during her time as a psychotherapist. Each one was very unique, and had a way to offer her a different perspective on a part of life. In this book, she tells the story of those cases, how she worked with the clients, and her own, inner thought processes while she worked to help others. The stories focus deeply on the human psyche, and they are moving and important on a number of levels. The introduction is a very thought-provoking expression of what the rest of the book will entail, and the stories themselves easily captivate the reader because they provide new and different ways to think about life and the problems and situations people face. Because Rubin was a therapist instead of a patient, she is able to show the issues faced by clients from the perspective of someone on the outside looking in. That can be very insightful for those who are in therapy, and for those who are curious about how the process of it really works.

By making the process of therapy clearer, and by shedding light on it for the layperson to absorb, Rubin shows the very human side of the mental health field. There are times when rules are bent, and those rules can even be broken in certain circumstances, for the good of the patient. There are some ethical and significant rules that must never be broken, but there are also times during which a therapist has to know when to make a change or take a chance that will allow a patient to make a breakthrough. During those times, the therapist has to be careful not to cross ethical, legal, and moral lines. Even with keeping to proper procedures, though, there are a lot of different things a therapist can do in order to help patients, and a number of rules that can be bent or broken without causing harm to the patient, the therapist, or the profession. Having insight into what takes place in therapy can be very valuable, and this book offers a great deal of it to be considered.

One of the areas in which Rubin sets herself apart with this book is her openness and honesty about the therapeutic process from the side of the therapist, as opposed to the patient. She is unorthodox in that she believes in hugs, squeezes of the hand, and physical contact with patients, which can help them feel comforted and encouraged. That is a very different approach from the clinical detachment exercised by the majority of psychotherapists, and a departure from the way most sessions are conducted. It is this daringness and unique approach to addressing the problems of others that is at the heart of the book. The man who is referenced in the title is one of the seven stories chronicled in the book, and his deformed legs are the subject of a great deal of rage that he holds inside him. Despite his beautiful voice, he has so much anger that he deals with throughout his part of the story. It is nearly sociopathic in nature, and the big breakthrough Rubin hoped to see in his case did not come.

Many people do not realize the emotional toll enacted on a therapist as he or she attempts to help others work through problems and circumstances that are often very significant in their lives. Rubin brings that to light, and her candor is refreshing when compared to many of the dry, textbook-style reads that are generally available to address psychotherapy issues. Mental health concerns that send a person to therapy are often both delicate and forceful, and they have to be handled in a way that works for both the therapist and the patient. Because dealing with other people's pain every day can become heartbreaking over time, a therapist has to be careful about how much he or she gets emotionally invested in the lives of his or her patients. Rubin points this out, but also addresses the idea that it is not always possible to separate how one feels from the clinical issues that have to be faced. Caring for patients is a requirement of being a good therapist, but caring too much can make the career a difficult one and can actually mean more difficulty in treating patients' problems.

Each one of the cases Rubin addresses stands alone and is a complete story in its own right, but the stories also work together in that there is a common theme to be addressed in them. That theme is that psychotherapy is not a magic cure for problems and issues people face in their lives, and that it is -- and needs to remain -- much more "real" and "human" than a lot of people deem it to be. Rubin puts a name and a face to the compassion that comes through psychotherapy, and shows that it is possible to be compassionate and caring while still retaining enough clinical detachment to remain objective. Striking that balance may be difficult, but it is attainable and should be something for which psychotherapists strive. That allows them to provide the most help and hope to their patients, and can make a true difference in the lives of those patients.