A Fatal Form of Contentment

The medical humanities can be relevant to clinical practice in unexpected ways. While researching an essay on mass tourism in Victorian England, I read about the Grand Tour of Europe, a travel experience for the select few, mostly upper class young men who travelled from England officially to complete their education with exposure to the great cultural experiences of Europe, but unofficially to let loose away from home. I identified with those young men and their freedom away from scrutiny. Studying medical humanities was supposed to broaden a narrow scientific education and reinvigorate my work as a psychiatrist but it was tempting to take courses as far removed from medicine as possible. The history of travel seemed remote from 21st-century medicine but as a virtual tourist to the study of history, I found some surprising links. In 19th century England with the Industrial Revolution and the subsequent rise of the middle class, travel opened up. People flooded to Italy, France, Switzerland, and further afield to Egypt and other exotic destinations. In contrast to the Grand Tour, where ample money and time allowed a young man to spend months in Florence or Venice, many of the Victorian middle-class travellers were on brief vacations from work. They came to Europe on package tours that had been organized for them and travelled in groups along a beaten tourist track. There were criticisms of these new tourists who flooded the art galleries of Italy and trekked the mountains of Switzerland clutching newly printed guidebooks. One name was singled out for praise and blame in regard to mass travel, Thomas Cook.