
The notes stay with that reading, and they stop before a later recap.
The notes are a reading of Irvin Yalom’s The Schopenhauer Cure, set beside the writer’s own time in a group. The first sight of group counselling, they write, came from the musical film Rent: people with AIDS talking to one another, each a support for the rest. Curiosity was enough to make the writer apply for a free programme, one session a week for a month, five meetings in all.
The mix of people was unlike everyday company, and at first the hour was a pleasure. As the sessions went on, though, speaking became harder. Each meeting turned up a darker corner the writer did not want to face, and the writer left. Opening the book, they write, brought that memory back, and Philip, one of the novel’s central figures, felt uncomfortably close.
The book, as they tell it, is the story of two people. Julius, a well-known therapist of sixty-five, is suddenly told that he has a year to live. In that shock he thinks of Philip, a client he had treated for three years without change. Philip is now a philosophy professor and a counsellor. Julius agrees to supervise him on one condition: that Philip join a six-month therapy group.
Schopenhauer, the writer had met in a high-school ethics class as a pessimist and a nihilist. His loneliness, they write, is easy to recognise; but an attitude of not wanting to live life again is, for the writer, why he cannot be the whole answer. A counselling group, they add, is a miniature of human society, a place where people correct a dark feeling by answering one another. The writer’s own flight, on this reading, came from not trusting the counsellor or the therapist. The force of group therapy, once known only in the head, is something the writer now says they would trust enough not to run from next time. The same Korean report, in a longer form, is on CampusDown.
Last updated: 15 November 2026
The writer first saw group counselling in the musical film Rent, then joined a free programme that ran weekly for a month, five sessions. As the meetings went on, speaking became harder, and the writer left.
Julius, a well-known therapist of sixty-five, is told he has a year to live. He looks up Philip, a former client he treated for three years without change, now a philosophy professor and a counsellor, and he takes Philip on for supervision on the condition that Philip join a six-month group.
A sense that Schopenhauer’s solitude can be recognised, but that an attitude of not wanting to live life again cannot be the whole answer; that a counselling group is a miniature of society; and that the writer had not trusted the counsellor or the therapist, which is why flight seemed the only move. Next time, the writer says, they would not run.
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