Anatomy of an Illness as Perceived by the Patient by Norman Cousins Page B

fine mood, refreshed as much by the spirit of the occasion as by the food. Dr. Schweitzer’s fatigue, so palpable when he first came into the dining room, now gave way to anticipations of things that had to be done. Humor at Lambarene was vital nourishment.
    The Bible tells us that a merry heart works like a doctor. Exactly what happens inside the human mind and body as the result of humor is difficult to say. But the evidence that it works has stimulated the speculations not just of physicians but of philosophers and scholars over the centuries. Sir Francis Bacon called attention to the physiological characteristics of mirth. Robert Burton, in his Anatomy of Melancholy , almost four hundred years ago, cited authorities for his observation that “humor purges the blood, making the body young, lively, and fit for any manner of employment.” In general, Burton said, mirth is the “principal engine for battering the walls of melancholy … and a sufficient cure in itself.” Hobbes described laughter as a “passion of sudden glory.”
    Immanuel Kant, in his Critique of Pure Reason , wrote that laughter produces a “feeling of health through the furtherance of the vital bodily processes, the affection that moves the intestines and the diaphragms; in a word, the feeling of health that makes up the gratification felt by us; so that we can thus reach the body through the soul and use the latter as the physician of the former.” If Kant was intimating in these remarks that he never knew a man who possessed the gift of hearty laughter to be burdened by constipation, I can readily agree with him. It has always seemed to me that hearty laughter is a good way to jog internally without having to go outdoors.
    Sigmund Freud’s fascination with the human mind was not confined to its malfunctioning or its torments. His researches were directed to the supremely mysterious station occupied by the brain in the universe. Wit and humor to him were highly differentiated manifestations of the uniqueness of the mind. He believed that mirth was a highly useful way of counteracting nervous tension, and that humor could be used as effective therapy.
    Sir William Osler regarded laughter as the “music of life.” His biographer, Harvey Cushing, quoted Osler as having advised doctors who are spiritually and physically depleted at the end of a long day to find their own medicine in mirth. “There is the happy possibility,” Osler wrote, “that like Lionel in, I think, one of Shelley’s poems, he may keep himself young with laughter.”
    Current scientific research in the physiological benefits of laughter may not be abundant but is significant nonetheless. William Fry, of Stanford University, has written a highly illuminating paper, “The Respiratory Components of Mirthful Laughter.” I assume he is referring to what is commonly known as belly laughter. Like Immanuel Kant, Fry finds that the entire process of respiration is benevolently engaged by laughter. Another paper worth consulting on the subject is “Effect of Laughter on Muscle Tone,” written by H. Paskind in the Archives of Neurology and Psychiatry in 1932.
    Some people, in the grip of uncontrollable laughter, say their ribs are hurting. The expression is probably accurate, but it is a delightful “hurt” that leaves the individual relaxed almost to the point of an open sprawl. It is the kind of “pain,” too, that most people would do well to experience every day of their lives. It is as specific and tangible as any other form of physical exercise. Though its biochemical manifestations have yet to be as explicitly charted and understood as the effects of fear or frustration or rage, they are real enough.
    Increasingly, in the medical press, articles are being published about the high cost of the negative emotions. Cancer, in particular, has been connected to intensive states of grief or anger or