Bibliotherapy
University and College Counselling, November 2024

Do you ever pay attention to that feeling when a book resonates with you and ask why? Or is it simply a momentary observation, that flees as quickly as it appeared? Often, we blink past the emotions that a piece of literature triggers in us, despite the connection we may have felt with something deep within us.

This is the charm of literature – it brings us back home, to ourselves. It connects our conscious mind with our deeper subconscious, or it prompts thoughts and feelings, all of which might be telling us something important – the clues in the messiness of life that may offer us self-awareness, insight and understanding. 

Literature does this with ease, suspending our defences as we sense safety and intimacy with the author and/or characters with whom we connect. Through this therapeutic relationship, the literature holds mirrors up. Whether it’s the familiarity of the emotion, experience or dynamic in the narrative, we find ourselves held in a safe space to explore and process these. 

As Rudine Sims Bishop once said, ‘Books are sometimes windows, offering views of worlds that may be real or imagined, familiar or strange. These windows are also sliding glass doors, and readers have only to walk through in imagination to become part of whatever world has been created or recreated by the author. When lighting conditions are just right, however, a window can also be a mirror. Literature transforms human experience and reflects it back to us, and in that reflection, we can see our own lives and experiences as part of a larger human experience. Reading, then, becomes a means of self-affirmation, and readers often seek their mirrors in books’.¹ 

This recognition, because of the identification we feel, can be very validating and healing. There is also a certain permission to explore our inner lives through the literature, beyond the entertainment and education value of a book – the ability to freely be with our thoughts prompted by the literature, uncensored, with our defences relaxed, to give us an opportunity to feel, consider and understand our reflections off the pages of the book without the shadows of shame or self-consciousness. 

This is where the power of therapeutic reading lies and where we can leverage it to heal and develop self-awareness. Before we can do this, however, we must experience a certain sense of connection and trust in the writing through the narrative being placed in front of us; an intimacy that allows us to relax our defences, to invite new perspectives by affirming to the writer: ‘I trust you. I feel connected and safe to explore my innermost thoughts’. 

As we read, the writing prompts us. As we find ourselves empathising with the characters or resonating with the narrative, we are offered clues into what we might be seeking to better understand in ourselves. 

As a bibliotherapist, I witness time and again, the validation and acknowledgement that come with narratives that represent or resonate with our own lived experiences – we feel seen, heard and understood – and we are connecting with others, be they fictional characters or the author themselves, crafting a therapeutic relationship with the text or author. 

The evolution of bibliotherapy 

The term ‘bibliotherapy’ was first coined by American essayist Samuel Crothers in 1916.² Crothers observed that reading novels provided inexpensive access to therapy. He also felt that for some patients, the therapeutic reading process could replace psychoanalysis. Despite the term ‘bibliotherapy’ only appearing at the beginning of the 20th century, the concept of therapeutic reading can be traced as far back as to the Ancient Greeks whose use of both tragedy and comedy were seen as conduits to catharsis. The word bibliotherapy itself is derived from a combination of two Greek words – biblion (meaning ‘book’) and therapeia (meaning ‘healing’). The first formal definition of bibliotherapy appeared in the 11th edition of Dorland’s Illustrated Medical Dictionary in 1941.³ In 1961, the definition provided by Webster’s Third New International Dictionary⁴ was endorsed by the American Library Association. This definition described bibliotherapy as ‘the use of selected reading materials as therapeutic adjuncts in medicine and psychiatry; also, guidance in the solution of personal problems through directed reading.’ 

Freud also saw the value of literature, referring to Ancient Greek myths as well as Shakespeare in his theories of psychoanalysis. In his essay, Creative Writers and Day-Dreaming, Freud refers to the writer guiding the reader, skilfully allowing the reader or the ‘day-dreamer’ to explore his or her own ‘phantasies’ (the Freudian term for the imaginative fulfilment of frustrated wishes, or repressed desires or needs, whether conscious or unconscious), just as a therapist would.⁵ 

In fact, therapeutic reading has developed over millennia, and can be traced all the way back to the ancient Greeks, Michel de Montaigne, William Wordsworth, George Eliot, Freud, hospital librarians during both World Wars and, more recently, modern-day academics. I chart this history in more detail in my book, Bibliotherapy: The healing power of reading.⁶ I first came across this history during my psychodynamic counselling training where I would often turn to literature to explore and resolve issues that I was grappling with in my own therapy sessions. This experience has influenced the development of my own bibliotherapy and literary curation practice, and now I solely use bibliotherapy when I see clients, working with a variety of creative bibliotherapy techniques, ranging from the use of poetry and narrative therapy, to letter writing and literary journaling, of which I go into more depth in the book. 

I’ve observed notable shifts and changes in my clients, through their engagement with therapeutic reading, and their dedication and commitment to the bibliotherapeutic process. I discuss some of these stories in the book, covering themes of grief, neurodiversity, relationships, cancer, and even motherhood. Academic research in this space continues internationally with awareness of bibliotherapy, together with the demand for the modality increasing worldwide. This is certainly evidenced by the enthusiasm for the subject by my clients, and trainees as well as readers of my book, and I look forward to seeing what heights we can reach with this incredible therapeutic tool we have available to us. 

What is bibliotherapy? 

If traditional therapy is known as the ‘talking cure’, then bibliotherapy serves as the ‘reading cure’. Similar to Freud’s free association method*, literature prompts us, through the protagonist’s or narrator’s story, giving us immediate access to our imagination and unconscious mind, bringing up our phantasies, anxieties, forgotten memories and associated emotions. Similar to traditional therapy, these are then discussed in a counselling session with a bibliotherapist or mental health professional. 

How does bibliotherapy work? 

My practice follows the work of academic Dr Caroline Shrodes,⁶ an important pioneer of bibliotherapy, whose 1949 dissertation drew many parallels between traditional psychotherapy and bibliotherapy, and proposed three qualities that needed to be satisfied for a text to qualify for ‘bibliotherapy’: 

• Identification: The reader connects and identifies with the narrative or protagonist. When a reader identifies with characters, situations or emotions depicted in a book, the recognition and validation experienced enables and encourages self-exploration and examination of their own situation
• Catharsis: This identification leads to the reader connecting with their own similar emotions. If these emotions are expressed, this release leads to relief
• Insight: By vicariously reliving the experience of the protagonist through the reading process, the reader has a newfound awareness and insight into their own situation, gaining perspective and discovering coping strategies, and potential ways to address their own issues. In addition, readers develop greater self-empathy and self-compassion as well as empathy for others. 

As readers welcome this connection, they experience a sense of validation and feel understood, while rejecting the aspects of the narrative that feels threatening or challenges the ego. 

The bibliotherapy session 

Prior to the bibliotherapy session, I ask clients to complete a questionnaire that is designed to understand the issues they face, their reading preferences and reading habits, and how much time they have to read. This enables me to select relevant and appropriate literature to work with during the sessions. In my book, I refer to this as ‘literary curation’.⁶ 

During the first 50-minute bibliotherapy session, I explore each client’s issue in more depth, and introduce them to an initial reading list (or ‘book prescription’), comprising seven to 10 book recommendations that I have prepared. I may add to this list or remove literature subsequent to this discussion and/or depending on the client’s preferences. The client then selects one or two books from the list that they feel particularly drawn to or compelled to read. 

I suggest they read the book(s) and undertake some ‘literary journaling’ (a foundational bibliotherapy technique I use with most clients) prior to the next session based on what they have read. I request that they share these reflections with me. These reflections inform subsequent sessions, as well as give clients an opportunity to continue the work outside the therapy room, processing thoughts and feelings, and recording how they might have been feeling during the week. 

During future sessions, I introduce additional creative bibliotherapy techniques to clients, ranging from poetry therapy, narrative therapy, letter writing to genre-based reflective practices. These play an active role in the therapeutic process, enabling clients to leverage both their reading and therapy. Further details of these techniques can be found in the book, along with stories of clients who have undertaken bibliotherapy for a variety of issues. 

Case study example 

To demonstrate how this all works in practice, let me illustrate the story of my client, Sarah, who had been struggling with grief following the sudden death of her younger brother. Despite trying various forms of therapy, including grief counselling, she found it difficult to process her emotions and move forward with her life. Her grief manifested in the form of social withdrawal and a deep sense of hopelessness. She wanted to complement the grief counselling with bibliotherapy, in the hope that engaging with literature might offer her a different perspective and help her navigate her complex emotions. 

The bibliotherapy process began with an assessment of Sarah’s relationship with her brother, her emotional state, and her reading interests, preferences and habits. Based on this, I pulled together a list of fiction and non-fiction focused on themes of loss, resilience and healing. Sarah was keen on reading memoir, so we landed on Kathryn Schulz’s Lost and Found,⁸ a book that delves into the author’s experience of grieving after the loss of her father, having just met the love of her life a few months before, pulling us into a meditation of how hope, discovery and new beginnings can carry us through our pain. 

I encouraged Sarah to read the book at her own pace, and engage in some literary journaling, noting any passages that resonated with her. During her bibliotherapy sessions, we discussed her reflections, exploring how Schulz’s experiences of loss paralleled her own, and enabled her to connect with her own grief and sadness. 

In Lost and Found, Sarah found solace in Schulz’s portrayal of grief’s irrationality, but also the coexistence of sorrow and hope, and the process of coming to terms with loss. This resonance led to a sense of validation and acknowledgment of her own feelings of grief and sadness, alleviating some of the isolation she felt. The book also provided her with a language of loss for her grief, allowing her to better articulate her emotions, and felt that seeking something meaningful, including novelty and new beginnings, were vital to her healing journey. She decided to pursue her passion for poetry and writing by enrolling in a year-long poetry writing course in the city. An exciting new chapter for her, it inspired her to write a series of poems remembering her brother and memorialise him in this way, while also using creativity to connect with, and process, her grief. 

After several bibliotherapy sessions, Sarah reported that bibliotherapy provided her with a safe space to explore her feelings and find new ways of understanding her loss. By connecting with Schulz’s experience of grief, Sarah was able to rediscover hope and meaning in her own life. This case highlights the potential of bibliotherapy as an effective complement to traditional grief counselling, offering a unique pathway to healing. 

Learning by experience 

As with most things, experience is the best teacher and there is no better way to understand the bibliotherapy process than to come in for a session and experience it for yourself. Directly engaging in a bibliotherapy session allows individuals to truly grasp the nuances of the process, from the careful selection of literature tailored to a person’s therapeutic needs, goals and reading habits, to the guided reflection that follows. By immersing yourself in a session, the therapeutic power of literature becomes not just an abstract concept, but an insightful, lived reality. 

As we navigate the complexities of modern life, the therapeutic potential of reading should not be underestimated. Whether as a complement to traditional therapy or as a standalone practice, the connection and intimacy with the text, and the resonating words of authors, can provide solace, insight and a deeper understanding of our own experiences. 

In a world where many seek meaningful ways to manage stress and find personal clarity, bibliotherapy offers a timeless, deeply human approach – one where the stories we read become a mirror reflecting our innermost thoughts and feelings, and in doing so, guide us toward healing. 

*The process through which we freely share thoughts and words that arise when encouraged to speak unfiltered without censorship about whatever comes to mind. 

University and College Counselling November 2024