Thank you to Kate Edgar, Knopf, and NetGalley for an Advanced Reader's Copy of this title!
If you ask any pre-medical or medical student for a medically-themed book recommendation, one of the titles on that list will likely be "The Man Who Mistook His Wife For a Hat". If you press them, they may remember that this book was written by a man named Oliver Sacks, though beyond that I'm not sure (as I didn't know until much later than I should have), who Oliver Sacks was, and what he meant to medicine.
"Letters" is a unique autobiographical and editorial picture of the "great observer of the human species", the eminent British physician who would not only serve patients at the bleeding edge of neurology starting in the 60s, but who would reshape the way physicians, practitioners, and laypeople viewed patients suffering from a number of neurological conditions, through essays, editorials, lectures, and, of course, the books for which hie is well known and loved by popular science readers and aspiring medical students alike.
But he was much more than that. As I came to learn through "Letters" he was a prolific and voluminous writer, and it seemed that he (and his correspondents) kept records of the many missives he sent throughout decades of his life. Collected and presented here by his longtime editor, we get a glimpse into Dr. Sacks thoughts not only about medicine and medical training, but the progression of his patients under regimes of new neuromodulatory drugs, the inner workings of academic medicine in California and New York, and the many ups and downs of his career and his overall insistence that he should not have been a doctor. But equally as interesting is the way his career was shaped by his personal and professional relationships, his hobbies and special interests outside of medicine - especially music, and his thoughts about how all these bits and pieces ebbed and flowed into each other.
Dr. Sacks, as evidenced by his letters and his own self-reflection, saw and felt the world deeply, which clearly caused him as much joy and triumph as despair, personally and professionally. I found his perspective and place as a foreign-born, Jewish, closeted gay man living within many of the great events and crises of half a century of change in America fascinating. Far removed from the tidy well-pressed images of doctors in this time period, Dr. Sacks rode motorcycles, wore leather, was a competitive weightlifter, had a problem with addictive substances during his career, and made enough of an amateur study of plants to write books and essays on the subject. From the Cuban missile crisis, to the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center, to the delight and frustration of emails and iPods, readers also get a glimpse into the cultural and societal forces shaping the world and medicine through Dr. Sacks' eyes.
I am very in awe of Kate Edgar and the monumental task of collecting, organizing, and shaping of a lifetime of correspondence into a single volume of work that is digestible, interesting, coherent, and moving. I did not realize that this book was getting on 800 pages long (with about as many footnotes!), but I found myself digesting large chunks at a time, laughing (my favorite line is about Dr. Sacks lamenting how old and bald he has become, with the author's footnote alerting the reader that he has just turned thirty), tearing up, and reflecting on how my own world has changed in my brief foray into medicine thus far. I am still thinking about this book more than a week after I finished it and have talked about it in several of my medical residency interviews, and I hope it becomes a staple read for medical students who are interested in the life and revelations of this force of nature and medicine.