Thank God William Blake did not have a psychiatrist. It’s hard to imagine Blake writing the Songs of Innocence and Experience while on Seroquel or Zyprexa. And Emily Dickinson on Paxil for Social Anxiety Disorder, married and happy with four kids and writing 1800 poems during her life? Not likely. Hildegard of Bingen’s psychiatrist would have promptly eradicated her visions with a shot of Haldol.
We make progress, yes, and psychiatrists act according to the Hippocratic Oath, and we believe in progress, but “progress” was defined centuries ago by the Enlightenment-trained fathers of our country and culture. Reason is King, and when you are unable to reason, you are unable to function in our society. Thank God there are psychiatrists to help me.
Principle 1st: That the Poetic Genius is the true Man.
O Earth O Earth return!
Arise from out the dewy grass;
Night is worn,
And the morn
Rises from the slumberous mass.
— W. Blake, Introduction to Songs of Experience, 1794