“The Acid Queen” – In Conversation with Susannah Cahalan

Of all of the books that I’ve read thus far this year, one that I’ve been most looking forward to is the brilliantly written and compelling The Acid Queen by one of my favorite authors, Susannah Cahalan, in which she takes a look at the life and times of Rosemary Woodruff Leary and her role in a history that she had mostly been written out of — until now. Even if, much like myself, you knew little-to-nothing about the Learys and the world of psychedelics, I guarantee that this book will have you hooked until the very end. Recently, I had the opportunity to discuss the book with Susannah. Read on to see what she had to say…

Andrew DeCanniere: While I guess you could say I was vaguely aware of Timothy Leary, I can’t really say that I knew anything about him or, for that matter, about Rosemary. I do know that he’s well known for advocating for the use of psychedelics. Apart from that, I really can’t say I knew much of anything about them. That said, I did find your book to be very compelling, as I think most people would.

Cahalan: Thank you. 

DeCanniere: I am curious as to how you decided to write about this particular topic in the first place. What’s the story behind the story?

Cahalan: You’ve read all of my work, which is so lovely. I don’t know if you remembers but in Brain on Fire, I briefly talked about ketamine. Basically, the part of the brain affected by autoimmune encephalitis — which is what I had — is the NMDA receptor, and the NMDA receptor is also affected by ketamine. So, I wrote about something called “the rubber hand illusion.” That is where if someone is given ketamine and they put their hand under a desk, and the researchers put a rubber hand there and tickle it with a feather or hurt it with something, then the person will feel the tickle or the pain, even though it is a rubber hand. It’s something about dissociation that was very interesting and kind of an insight into my own mind, but through the use of a novel chemical that is typically seen as a psychedelic. So, that was in Brain on Fire. 

In my second book, The Great Pretender, I had a chapter about Humphry Osmond, who was a famous psychiatrist and the person who came up with the term “psychedelic.” He used to give LSD to his architects. At the time, LSD was seen as something called a “psychomimetic,” which mimicked psychosis. That was how it was initially used — as a kind of window into the psyche, when the psyche is kind of fractured. So, that was interesting to me, as was the history of psychedelics. There were a bunch of different questions going on in my mind, and whenever you start to go down the rabbit whole of psychedelics, you end up hitting Timothy Leary. I ended up going through his files in the New York Public Library, and became aware of another collection that is also at the New York Public Library — “The Rosemary Woodruff Leary Collection.” I had never heard of Rosemary Woodruff Leary before, so I thought that’s interesting and started going through her files. I found this fascinating woman whose story was never told. There wasn’t even a Wikipedia page for her, yet she was so important in the history of the American culture and counterculture. I thought that was kind of exciting. It was exciting that there was a lot about her. As a journalist and someone who loves to dig, it was a challenge that I was excited to take up. 

DeCanniere: I can definitely see why. Not to get too off into the weeds here, but I was surprised to find that Timothy Leary actually was mentioned in the first season of Nine Perfect Strangers on Hulu. I just stumbled upon the show recently. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen it, but I found that really interesting. 

Cahalan: You know, someone just brought this up to me. That’s so bizarre. Yeah. I remember it came out a few years ago, right? 

DeCanniere: Yeah. I think it was released in 2021. I just watched it for the first time last month, and there was a scene where the guests at this resort are all sitting around this dining table, eating breakfast. One of the guests is a high school teacher and, at one point in the conversation, the teacher is so enthusiastic about psychedelics and is just singing their praises, and another one of the guests refers to him as their Timothy Leary. It was just so random. 

Cahalan: That’s so funny because someone just recently was like “Oh, this book should be a show or movie like Nine Perfect Strangers.” They must’ve subconsciously taken in the fact that they mentioned Timothy Leary. 

DeCanniere: Well, in any case, I wholeheartedly agree with them. Getting back to your book, one of the things that I found interesting is the way in which Timothy and Rosemary came together, as well as the dynamic that existed between the two of them. 

Cahalan: Yeah. It was, in some ways, a deranged love story. One that was very complicated, but there was true passion and love there. It was interesting to write about something that was as complicated and difficult. You could even say abusive at times, but still genuine. There’s something interesting about working within something that has so many different edges to it. 

DeCanniere: Absolutely. I’d definitely say that is a fair assessment of their relationship. You also talk about how the role of women within the history of psychedelics, with women having this tendency to write themselves out of it. Then, of course, you also write about the role of women at Millbrook, specifically.

Cahalan: One of my favorite lines, quoted to me while researching the book, was from Peggy Hitchcock, who was the very wealthy oil heiress whose brother owned the estate. I interviewed her at various points. She passed away last year, but she said something to the effect of “All talk of revolution ended with one question: ‘Who is going to do the dishes?’,” which I thought was so representative of the continuation of a lot of women’s roles within the commune setting — especially at Millbrook.

DeCanniere: I think that really stood out to me, particularly because they wanted to see themselves as progressive, open-minded people. 

Cahalan: Up to a point. Once they felt it infringed on what they were entitled to, or it made their lives more difficult, it was not something that was embraced anymore. They were men who expected to be taken care of. 

DeCanniere: That part just really stood out to me. It was definitively surprising, given how it seems they wanted to be viewed.

Cahalan: I mean, yes and no. You’re coming right out of 1950s conformity. It’s a very different time. Things were very different. You can’t ever separate the context from the times, but it was regressive, for sure. Noticeably so by some of the women present, Rosemary included. She was the one who described Timothy in very similar terms — as someone who wanted to be so progressive and revolutionary, but who was the kind of man who would put his hand out and expected a martini glass to be put in it. 

DeCanniere: Apart from his desire to be seen as progressive and yet simultaneously having these regressive attitudes toward women, another thing that is hard to reconcile is his whole approach toward psychedelics. He is coming from this academic background, he is advocating for the use of psychedelics, and he wants to advance his cause, getting the wider world to see them and embrace them the way that he does. Yet, in many ways, I feel as though the way in which he went about things — especially in his post-academic career, as the wheels come more and more off the wagon — seemed to increasingly harm his cause. 

Cahalan: Absolutely. At the end of the day, he started to advocate for psychedelics in the way that you would market and advertise Coca-Cola. That’s what he saw. In the beginning, I think that he genuinely believed that psychedelics could change the world in a positive way, and then I think he got so caught up in the fame and schtick of it all — enamored with the limelight — that some of those authentic beliefs started to get perverted in a way, by fame and the pursuit of attention from others. As you said, you then see some of the wheels falling off and him starting to get pretty unhinged.

DeCanniere: Right. You sort of see that when they want to pursue this idea of creating their own religion, largely in order to be able to pursue their own aims or desires. While they’re not the only ones who tried this sort of thing, I think that what they were doing and why they were doing it was actually fairly transparent, and some of the ideas definitely got more and more outlandish.

Cahalan: Absolutely. Then again, he was in some ways very prophetic, too. So, you can’t totally discount him as being a ridiculous person, because he did see the future in some ways, and he could be very brilliant in many ways. He was not reliably brilliant, but there were definitely flashes of brilliance there that obviously attracted Rosemary. I think that’s very important to understand in terms of understanding her. 

DeCanniere: Definitely. It just really surprised me that he could be so reckless, in some ways, while trying to get mainstream society to embrace psychedelics. Personally, I don’t think that is an effective way to get society to embrace something.

Cahalan: I agree. Since he was constantly being pursued by the government and law enforcement, and he had legal bills piling high behind him, there was an effort to make himself more of a media figure, so that he could make more money. It was very convoluted. I think that there was a lot of genuine belief there, but as these legal troubles came about, coupled with this effort to make money, along with his pursuit of fame, it created this very noxious soup that not only hurt him and his reputation, but which ended up putting Rosemary in harm’s way and led to her erasure, but which also harmed the psychedelic cause as well.

DeCanniere: Speaking of Rosemary, I did want to touch upon her role in the whole story as well, precisely because so many have focused on Timothy and this book is really about her and her story.

Cahalan: You know, in many ways, Rosemary was a true believer. In terms of the authentic belief, that really coalesces around her. She was someone who really devoted herself to life’s mysteries, the ineffable — the wonderful parts of that and the perils of devoting your life to that. She was someone who was a caretaker. She was someone who was behind-the-scenes in many ways. She was helping edit Timothy’s work. She was making his clothes. She was elevating his persona. In many ways, she was embodying and creating the environment that he was advocating, in terms of really living out the principles that he was proselytizing. I also think that, in the most concrete ways, as Allen Ginsberg called her, she was “The Acid Queen.” However, she was also the queen of set and setting, which were extremely important elements that Timothy identified as being key to a profound psychedelic experience. These endure now. These are still part of psychedelic therapy. These are very important tenets. Setting would be the environment, and Rosemary was very good at both of those things. She had a warm and grounding presence. People liked being around her. She elevated people. She also beautified the space in ways that helped ground people during trips. She would know what colors to make the couch cushions. She would create these costumes. She would cook warming foods. She really was a connoisseur in a lot of ways. First, I think that she had a little bit of that eye. She came with that, but I also think she developed that when she worked as an airline stewardess as well — learning how to work magic in tight spaces. I think she was the embodiment of many of Timothy Leary’s ideals. 

DeCanniere: It truly seems as though she was the one of the two who seemed to have just been the more thoughtful one, and more aware of the impact of what was going on. Speaking of the importance of set and setting, there were people who had used psychedelics who, one could argue, were definitely using them improperly. In your book, you do talk about some unfortunate incidents that occurred. Though this is not a direct quote, it’s almost as if, in the event Timothy had anything to say about them at all, all he said was the equivalent of “Well, don’t do that anymore.” 

Cahalan: Or barely even that, like when the young woman drowned and hit her head on a pontoon boat. His first reaction was to say that it wasn’t the drugs, immediately upon her death, which was inappropriate. Whereas with Rosemary, her writing about it in her diary was very reflective in terms of what they could have done differently to save her. Those are two very different ways of looking at something like that, and I think her way of looking at it is ultimately more psychedelic in the way that people want that term to be used. Open-hearted, community-oriented, connected. Timothy, on the other hand, is very me-focused. It is very egoic. 

DeCanniere: Which is such an interesting and important point. Rosemary was living more in line with what Timothy was preaching. 

Cahalan: What does ego death really look like? That was the goal, and that continues to be the goal for a lot of people using psychedelics. As diffuse as that idea is, who lived that out? Rosemary did. Rosemary erased herself for the greater good of her friends, for the greater good of the community surrounding psychedelics, her own integrity. She lived that out. He did not. 

DeCanniere: Absolutely. Not to make Rosemary out to be this victim of Timothy and of her circumstances, but I do think that if they hadn’t run into each other, and perhaps she had found somebody else, things would have turned out differently for her. Obviously, she had a series of bad relationships and — not to be an amateur therapist or something — but sometimes, as people, we gravitate toward what is comfortable, even if the comfortable thing is dysfunctional. 

Cahalan: Yes. Very beautifully put. It’s funny, because when she went underground, she said something to that effect. She had the thought of ‘What are the other lives I could have lived? There were so many other lives that I could have lived.’ I think you’re right. You know, there is a point, though, to acknowledge that she went into this relationship a two-time divorcée. She didn’t graduate high school.  She had aged out of her position as an airline stewardess. So, she was very constrained by the limits on women of her time, and you kind of can’t take that away from her decision-making, too. 

DeCanniere: Right. Obviously, it was a different time, but I do think it kind of underscores the importance of the decisions that one makes. I don’t know if there is anything else you wanted to add, but I just wanted to make sure to touch upon everything you feel is important. 

Cahalan: I think that there is something to say in terms of the Brain on Fire and The Great Pretender connection. I am really interested in altered states, and this kind of questioning of identity and the self, and the brain-mind role in that. So, I think that in terms of the connective tissue among the three works, it’s just so special to have someone who has read all three. I think the connection might not be obvious to some people as maybe it would be to you, because you know the books. I think that there is something there in terms of the power of institutions, and also what the experience of altered states can do to the self. These are elements of all three that I think are interesting. I also think on a very concrete level, there’s that element of institutions or psychologists behaving badly, which I am very interested in. 

DeCanniere: Absolutely, and I really do think that both of those were just so well written — just as this one is. 

Cahalan: I’m so happy you enjoyed it. I know it’s a bit of a departure, but it was so fun. I had the best time writing this book. It was a joy, from start to finish, really. 

DeCanniere: And I do think that it works really well, as you said, if someone is inclined to read all three — which I obviously highly encourage. That being said, I do think that if someone reads this one first, they will get a lot out of it.

Cahalan: It’s clear that the first two are intimately related and in conversation with each other, but for me this third book was also very much in conversation with those two other books in a more subtle way. I think there’s also this idea of the world you cannot see, and about expectations, about narratives passed down and questioning those. I think all three also have that in common. 

DeCanniere: Absolutely. Last but not least, I always find it interesting to learn more about what you’re reading or what you’d recommend. I know I’m always looking for that next great read. 

Cahalan: Yeah. I love The Road to Tender Hearts by Annie Hartnett, which is fiction and is so good. It’s just so wonderful. It’s just very beautiful, tender and very compelling. I’m about halfway through and utterly enjoying it. There is another book that is coming out that I think you would specifically like. It’s called The Mind Electric by Pria Anand. She has a really interesting perspective that I haven’t seen from a doctor yet. I think you’d really enjoy that one. I feel as though that one hits your interests very closely. 

Susannah Cahalan is a number one New York Times bestselling author, journalist, and public speaker. Her first book, Brain on Fire, has sold over a million copies and has been translated into more than twenty languages. Her second book, The Great Pretender, was shortlisted for the Royal Society’s 2020 Science Book Prize. She lives in New Jersey with her family.

For more information about Susannah and her work, including The Acid Queen (available now from Viking Books), visit her website.

In addition, you can find my 2019 interview regarding her second book, The Great Pretender, by clicking here.