Tricky area, insanity. Not to be made fun of. Most madness dwells in unhappiness, the mind travels the emotions, struggles to comprehend the perceptions, it hears noises, hears voices and sees things that might not be there. That part of a mind which attempts to make sense of its world works overtime, and then it breaks, becomes unfit, its realities not understood by the rest of us. And we who walk the tightrope, which is all of us, tend to fear things we don't understand, they become annoying, and easier to get rid of them, ignore them or invent ideas around them to make them tolerable.
Sometimes your writer of pulp concerns himself with the sad realities of
insanity as he chases down Sainthood for The Rabbit by reenacting the Vestry of
Monnow in the tri-county lunatic asylum. But it's the case that the picture to
be painted in the Ten Books of The Rabbit of Usk, if read through tinted lenses
is filled with horrible insensitivities. You can't just go around saying
"Normans suck, unleash the Unicorn!" and come away with an unblemished character
reference. More likely you'll be judged and categorized by one group or another.
And as for your writer of pulp's motive, I guess his level of sensitivity
depends upon how much he cares about which group he belongs to. A sad commentary
upon all of us.