HALF OF A WHOLE

After a woman’s twin brother suffers an episode of mental illness, she reflects on her upbringing and subsequent quest for independence in this debut memoir.

In 1987, 45-year-old Haus’ family was forced to call the police when her twin brother, Marvin, had a breakdown that involved aggressive and upsetting behavior. The memoir opens with the author being quizzed by a nurse on whether there was a history of bipolar disorder in her family. Her immediate response was that “everyone in our family is fine,” but the query led her to scrutinize her childhood more closely. Raised on a farm in western Minnesota by evangelical Christians of Swedish heritage, the twins were shaped by strict religious beliefs and Scandinavian stoicism. Haus recollects her coming-of-age while touching on aspects of Marvin’s behavior that may have signaled his growing mental illness, such as his various “tics and shrugs” and his willful killing of bantam chicks before they hatched. Haus recognized the close bond that she had with her twin but also sought independence from her family. She excelled academically, eventually forging a new life in New England, where she raised a family and had a successful sales and marketing career while Marvin dropped out of college and served in the military before taking on a series of low-income jobs. The author describes how her sense of family duty competed with her drive for freedom as Marvin’s mental health deteriorated and he began to alienate those around him.    

Haus’ memoir approaches the topic of mental illness in illuminating ways. She shares her deepest emotions regarding twinship, which she formed in childhood: “We had always been together. How could I run away if he wouldn’t go with me?” Later, Haus allows readers to eavesdrop on her therapy sessions, including an earth-shattering moment when her therapist stated: “being a twin has been a devastating experience for you.” The author astutely counterbalances moments of heightened emotional intimacy with salient factual commentary, as when she notes that “psychologists worry about the intense bonding that occurs between twins,” who “risk seeing their twin not as a separate person but as a part of their own self.” Haus beautifully embroiders the memoir with keen descriptions full of sensory imagery: “We searched for pullet eggs in the woods, played with the baby mice in our granary, or pulled our fingers through the water in the cows’ water tank to screen out the spongy moss.” One minor criticism is that the section describing the author’s childhood is drawn out a bit too long, but Haus’ meticulous attention to detail does form a comprehensive portrait of their family life. Although the memoir can be heartbreakingly sad, it builds to a stirring moment of understanding when the author fully recognized her brother’s determination in the face of what was later diagnosed as bipolar disorder. Overall, this sharply conceived book shines a light on the challenges of twinship and offers a deeply personal account of a family coping with mental illness.

A richly detailed and affecting remembrance.