The New Scientist Book Club recently concluded its exploration of Masud Husain’s Our Brains, Our Selves: What a neurologist’s patients taught him about the brain and the self, a book that had already garnered significant praise, including the Royal Society Trivedi Science Book Prize. While the book was lauded by judges for its “beautiful exploration” of neurological conditions and their impact on a person’s sense of self, the club’s members offered a more nuanced, and often critical, assessment. This article dives into the book club’s review, highlighting both the strengths and weaknesses that emerged from their discussions.
Exploring the Core Themes and Connections
The book examines how various neurological conditions can disrupt a person’s sense of self, a concept that resonated strongly with several club members. Husain intertwines medical histories with his own experiences as an immigrant navigating a new culture, creating a narrative that blends professional observations with personal reflections. This exploration of identity and belonging, particularly relevant to those who have experienced relocation, proved to be a key takeaway for several readers.
Katherine Sarah connected deeply with the book’s exploration of language and identity, drawing parallels to her own experiences living in a country where she didn’t speak the language. “It really resonated with me how much language represents a part of yourself and how hard it is to portray yourself without it,” she noted. Similarly, Gosia Furmanik found the examination of identity and migration personally relevant, having migrated twice in her life. These connections underscored the book’s ability to bridge the gap between scientific understanding and lived experience.
Judith Lazell praised the book’s readability and engaging style, while Jennifer Marano was particularly struck by the chapter on Wahid, a bus driver suffering from dementia with Lewy bodies, expressing a newfound understanding of vision and the subjective nature of perception.
Concerns About Narrative and Style
However, the club’s reception wasn’s uniformly positive. Several members raised concerns regarding Husain’s narrative choices. A recurring issue was the feeling that the author sometimes constructed events and dialogues in a way that felt artificial or contrived. Husain himself admitted to fictionalizing patient details to ensure anonymity, a necessary practice, but one that some readers found detracted from the authenticity of the book. Niall Leighton expressed frustration with the seemingly stilted patient discussions, questioning their degree of fictionalization.
Furthermore, some members found Husain’s writing style overly ornate and occasionally jarring within the context of a science book. Jennifer described the author’s penchant for “florid descriptions” that felt out of place, and Judith and Niall found the inclusion of definitions for common terms like “atrophied” and “vertebrate” patronizing.
The Question of “Normal” and Inclusive Language
Beyond stylistic concerns, the club raised a more fundamental critique regarding Husain’s use of the word “normal” when describing neurological conditions. For example, referring to healthy individuals as behaving “like normal people” was perceived as problematic by several members. Gosia argued that this language reinforced an arbitrary standard and minimized the value of diverse experiences, including those of individuals living with illness or disability. Niall, who identifies as neurodivergent, found the repeated use of “normal” alienating and highlighted the need for more inclusive language when discussing neurological differences.
A Verdict: Passionate Work, Imperfect Execution
Despite these critiques, Jennifer Marano acknowledged the author’s passion for his work and ultimately appreciated the book’s contribution to understanding the complexities of the human brain. The New Scientist Book Club’s engagement with Our Brains, Our Selves reflects a desire for clarity, authenticity, and inclusivity in scientific writing. It’s a reminder that even highly praised works can benefit from rigorous scrutiny, sparking valuable conversations about narrative choices, language, and the way we discuss neurological diversity.
The club now moves on to its November read: Grace Chan’s Every Version of You, a science fiction novel exploring the challenges of identity and consciousness in a virtual world. This shift to a genre known for its imaginative exploration of the mind promises a new perspective on the very questions raised by Husain’s examination of the brain and the self.
