So why does a biography of Aaron Burr bring this to mind? Well, one of the primary sources for The Heartbreak of Aaron Burr is Burr’s letters, particularly to his daughter, Theodosia. Author H.W. Brands and, in turn, readers of his sketch of Aaron Burr and his life, should be thankful that Burr not only wrote plenty of letters, he kept copies.

Although Burr is the subject of numerous biographies, Brands’ use of the letters between Burr and Theo, named after her mother, allows a somewhat different perspective. As the title may suggest, the book seems to look more at Burr the man than the other categories in which he could be placed — politician, duelist, accused traitor. While Brand concisely covers the breadth of Burr’s life, it is clear that the father-daughter relationship was an extraordinary one. Burr was decades ahead of his time when it came to Theo. Throughout his life, he was devoted to seeing that she had an education equal to any man’s. Even after she was married and a mother, Burr would suggest matters for her to study and ask that she report back her thoughts and ideas upon doing so. His view of women was such that he described Mary Wollstonecraft’s A Vindication of the Rights of Woman, one of the earliest works of feminist philosophy, as “a work of genius.”

Despite his love for his daughter, Burr’s ambitions frequently took him away for extended periods of time. Yet those ambitions never produced the greatness Burr believed was his destiny. Burr’s political status in his native New York made him one of the key figures in the struggle between Alexander Hamilton’s Federalists and Thomas Jefferson’s Republicans, a dispute Brands summarizes rather handily. This would lead him to become Jefferson’s vice president in 1800, only for Jefferson to shut him out and for Burr left off the ticket when Jefferson sought re-election.

The Heartbreak of Aaron Burr also recites the political atmosphere and style that led a longstanding enmity between Hamilton and Burr to culminate in the duel in which Hamilton was killed. While dueling was illegal, it was not uncommon. Although still vice president, Hamilton’s death stirred such a reaction that Burr had to flee to avoid criminal prosecution. Becoming essentially a political pariah, Burr ventures out to explore the U.S. west of the Allegheny Mountains, a venture that would result in Burr being tried for treason.

Brands fairly outlines the supposed scheme in which Burr engaged and its players. Essentially, he is accused of assembling an armed force — which he did — in an effort to have the western areas split from the United States, forming their own nation. In addition, he wanted to gain control of Louisiana and invade Mexico. Still, Burr was circumspect enough that the full extent of his plans and goals remain unclear. When an alleged co-conspirator sends Jefferson a coded letter supposedly written by Burr, the president proclaims Burr guilty of treason and directs federal authorities to arrest him. Burr is ultimately indicted by a grand jury for treason.

Abut a quarter of the slim volume deals with Burr’s 1807 trial. There’s good reason. As Brands note, not only does it present key issues about the only crime set out in the Constitution, the cast of characters is “illustrious.” Burr is the defendant yet actively participates in his defense. His defense counsel includes Edmund Randolph, the first Attorney General of the United States and former Secretary of State. And as this was still in the day where Supreme Court justices would “ride the circuit” to sit as trial judges, Chief Justice John Marshall presided over the trial. The Heartbreak of Aaron Burr frequently quotes from the trial transcript in presenting the factual and legal issues in a readable and understandable fashion. Burr is acquitted but his notoriety means an effort to return to the practice of law fails. As a result, he departs for Europe.

Letters continued between Burr and his daughter while he was in Europe. Yet believing their mail may be too easily read in the lengthy transit, they use false names and employ a cipher when referring to individuals. This correspondence, though, reveals that Europe may well be the nadir of Burr’s life. Far from family and friends, unable to build support for any of his plans, and then largely stranded due to the deteriorating relationship between the U.S. and Britain that would culminate in the War of 1812, Burr is essentially destitute. He then has to sneak back into the U.S. because there remains a warrant for him as a result of the Hamilton duel. Burr’s correspondence reflects his personal and political misery, although undoubtedly the situation may have been much worse than he let on to Theo.

Once back in the U.S., Burr eventually recedes from view and he yields no power, political or otherwise. Family tragedies would further affect him and Brands’ use of Burr’s letters throughout the book that established the strength and importance of those relationships helps bring home the effect of those tragedies on him. Thus, largely from beginning to end the portrait Brands creates is crafted with Burr’s own words.

The Heartbreak of Aaron Burr certainly is not an in-depth look at the enigmatic Burr. But lengthier works tend to focus on details of what led to the duel with Hamilton and what Burr did in the west that led to the accusations of treason. As such, they give us more a picture of the political Burr than the personal one. This also makes the narrative quite readable and well-paced.

We are fortunate that individuals like Burr tended to keep copies of their letters, both sent and received. While we don’t know where where technology will take us, I can’t help but wonder whether the sources will exist in the future that make works like this possible.

Aaron Burr, January 1809, quoted in
H.W. Brands, The Heartbreak of Aaron Burr

From the outset, then, those in the legal profession are aware of the stigma that attaches to admitting to treatment for mental health conditions, even if that treatment is, like insulin, successful at controlling the potential effects of the condition. James T.R. Jones examines one aspect of that stigma in A Hidden Madness, a memoir of his work as a Wall Street lawyer, federal appellate court law clerk and law school professor while suffering from bipolar disorder.

Since 1986, Jones has been a professor at the Louis D. Brandeis School of Law at the University of Louisville. He has yet to hold a license to practice law in Kentucky. Why? Because, among other things, the application asks if the applicant has been diagnosed with or treated for a number of mental health conditions within the last five years, including bipolar disorder or major depression. Over the last 30 years, Jones treated continually for that condition and was hospitalized for it several times. Jones so feared the stigma of revealing his condition that he kept it a secret from virtually everyone. In fact, he didn’t disclose it to either of his wives until he was seriously considering asking them to marry him.

Jones now believes it is a condition that had its roots in childhood and that it was tied in with an inferiority complex he developed. Yet despite those struggles, Jones was a successful student and able to intentionally plot out and make the career moves he believed necessary to become a law professor. He tells his story chronologically and doesn’t hesitate to thank those who aided him along his way. Whether due to the academic setting or intentionally, A Hidden Madness at times takes what feels like more of an objective tone than a subjective one. This also means that while the effects are unquestionably difficult to convey, the book seems to be more detached than some other memoirs by individuals confronting mental health issues.

The fact Jones has succeeded doesn’t mean it is or has been easy. It’s unlikely any of us not afflicted with the condition can really understand its effects. Jones tells of periods, such as after a divorce, where even with lithium therapy he struggled to fulfill his job duties. He talks of stress pushing him toward the extremes of the condition, often being “constantly hopeless” and irritable, lacking energy and being “chronological suicidal.” He recognizes the lithium and other medication controlled the symptoms enough that he could work but still experienced peaks and “horrible valleys.” Although unlikely meant that way, Jones makes an serious observation inn which many of those who have attended law school may well find humor: “It is difficult to teach Decedents’ [Estates] at the best of times, let alone when severely depressed, sometimes suicidal.”

Jones’ occasional suicidal ideations may reflect the dichotomy of bipolar disorder. Jones has long had an interest in guns. Even though he and others recognized they pose a risk for someone who is suicidal, he had what he considered legitimate reasons for keeping them. “I wanted to to have them around both to show I would not use them and to have them available as the tools to end my life if I chose to do so,’ Jones writes.

Jones describes some of the effects of the disease in the private practice of law, noting there were days when he was an associate in a Jacksonville, Fla., firm where he was so depressed he couldn’t put in the necessary billable hours. Yet another aspect of that depression was to ruminate over that inability, creating a vicious cycle. Although A Hidden Madness touches on this, it has an inherent limitation in addressing mental health issues in the legal profession. For example, while it unquestionably has its own pressures, most law professors aren’t subject to the pressures and deadlines their job demands, many imposed by courts and clients. Moreover, academia affords the protections of tenure. In contrast, the practicing attorney faces a conundrum. If they don’t seek treatment, they may be harming their client or forced to quit practicing law. Even those who seek treatment fear disclosure because it may result in loss of clients or perhaps even opposing counsel seeking to take advantage of the condition.

Another area Jones occasionally touches on but does not explore in detail is the advantage professionals with mental conditions may have — resources. Jones points out that his insurance paid for his hospitalization. He observes that part of the reason he was able to maintain ongoing treatment is that insurance also paid for his it and his prescriptions. Likewise, he had the benefit of disability payments. In contrast, many people who face mental health issues in today’s America have none of those things. It is almost impossible to imagine a person staying on drugs like lithium or them remaining effective without ongoing visits with a health care provider. If they lose their job, the only income replacement may be unemployment.

What A Hidden Madness perhaps explores best is the fear of disclosure. The stigma of mental illness can be too much for even highly intelligent and rational people whose mental health issues are treated and under control. Even though Jones had episodes where he needed hospitalization, in part due to the fact physical side effects of lithium forced him to stop taking it, he has maintained a highly respected job for decades. Yet even he deeply feared going public with his story. He points out the fear an applicant for law school or admission to the bar may have in disclosing what is likely their most closely held secret and perhaps even disclosure of their most personal medical records. it is clearly a conundrum. The failure to disclose could result in denial of their application; disclosure might produce the same result.

Jones makes a strong argument against the stigma that attaches, encouraging others not to be held captive by it like he was for decades. recognizing it held him captive for decades and encouraging others. As such, he is one of many professionals lending their voices to what Jones considers to be “the most stigmatized group today,” those who have and treat for mental health conditions. It is only through efforts such as his that such people and their treatment may no longer need to stay hidden.

James T.R. Jones, A Hidden Madness

Because each of us likely has our own definition and perspective, in early 2009 John Noltner began interviewing people about what peace meant to them. His goal was to create a collection of thoughts on peace from a wide variety of people and use it to foster a larger public conversation about the topic. A freelance photographer based in Minneapolis, Noltner also took black and white portrait photographs of his subjects. In addition to creating a traveling exhibit, another result of his efforts is his book, A Peace of My Mind, Exploring the Meaning of Peace One Story At a Time, which contains excerpts of about 50 interviews and the subjects’ portraits. (Many of the full interviews are available on the book’s web site as podcasts.)

A significant number of those interviewed, particularly those with a religious orientation, tend to look toward an internal peace as a first and essential step. They believe that the personal effort of finding an inner peace contributes to and builds peace in the world as a whole. Others tend to view it as an absence of war. Yet there hasn’t been much of that, notes Luyen Phan, an international student advisor. He believes peace can arise by building on cultural awareness and exchanges so that what happens elsewhere in the world has more meaning to us.

Economic and personal security also play a role in some visions of peace. Some express the concept that “nobody gets seconds until everyone gets firsts” or that the measure of success isn’t monetary but the intangible values that prompt people to strive to help others. There is also a sense in some interviews that personal safety or the knowledge that a person has food and shelter are key components.

Some views are striking because of the individual’s background. Jamal Hashi was in elementary school when war broke out in his native Somalia. Now a restaurant owner, his observations have a somewhat unique religious backdrop and perspective.

The core of the message [in the Bible and Qur'an] is: achieve peace, give peace, and live by peace. But what do we fight about? The difference of who was the messenger. It’s like killing the mailman because he wasn’t the same mailman last week. Did you get the mail? That’s all that matters.

Others are more lyrical. Take for example, Melvin Carter Jr., a retired St.Paul police officer, who considers peace it “living symphonically” with each other. “[Y]ou know, in the symphony you’ve got all kinds of stuff happening — rhythmically and melodically and harmoniously — at the same time. [Yet the instruments work] together in such a way that doesn’t clash.”

One thing that is clear is that regardless of how people view or strive for peace, it is not a state we should consider only during particular times of the year. Thus, A Peace of My Mind would be one of those Christmas gifts that has the propensity to long outlast the event.

Hudlin Wagner in John Noltner’s A Peace of My Mind