It’s not a common characteristic, but I recommend this book for all environments where you read. Coffee shop, living room, park bench, subway, or to ignore your spouse--it receives my seal of 4+ stars. Musicophilia is a lurid, but respectable, look into the brains and lives of people that appear normal on the outside, but have strong, strange and intractable relationships to music. The relationship is sometimes harmful, often incomprehensible, sometimes therapeutic, even charming, but always unforgettable. And that’s the bottom line here for this book--incredibly interesting, highly readable, and, after reflecting about people in your lives with contagion to music, totally unforgettable.
- Why do some people hear every musical tone in irrepressible color, like fireworks?
- Why do snippets of songs lodge in the brain for days, weeks, years, even a lifetime?
This is my introduction to Oliver Sacks. A renown neuroscientist with over 5 decades of experience, and a talent for presenting case studies to a plebeian reading public. The great majority of writers are not good writers. And, they’re not neuroscientists either. Sacks, however, is both.
- What about the man with a 60 IQ who knows each note of 2500 symphonies?
- Why do people with gross stuttering speak perfectly when they sing?
Every human has a disease. Sometimes that disease is visible on the outside, and we stare and point, and tell our friends what we saw today--an alien rheumatoid hand, a debilitating kyphosis, a piebald psoriasis scar. Sometimes the affliction is in the mind and worn outside, like an Obsessive Compulisive Disorder, a neurodegeneration or a crippling social phobia. But, for the most part, we all have something--an undiagnosed disease or affliction--something we can manage to hide from everyone (so that people don’t point and stare and go home and tell their friends about what they saw in us today). Perversion, narco, nympho, criminality, victim, depression, protein mutation, future Alzheimer, next year’s dementia, next week’s suicide, next month’s spousal abuse, future diabetic, compulsion, addiction. We all mix together. Some of it’s our fault, some not. But it’s there. And most of it’s in the brain. I like reading psychological analysis of material cases. Psychology ‘levels’ the playing field, in a manner. It helps to know you’re not the only one that suffers from hidden affliction.
- What about the man with amnesia so severe he can’t remember anything beyond 7 seconds ago, yet he plays the piano flawlessly when he never could before?
- Why does music induce epilepsy?
Based on a lifetime of personal interaction with patients, the author reveals scores of cases regarding music-related idiosyncrasies. Like a barbell, on the left are people who cringe at the sound of music, on the right are people who fail to thrive without music, and both sides are connected by a continuum, balanced through the middle. Musicophilia is a compilation that highlights a very recent surge in psychoanalytic and neuroscientific interest in music-based ailments and music-based therapy. There are fantastic new insights to how the brain compartmentalizes music, and how music is integrated as a global cortical tool. Apparently the brain has allocated a large--a mysteriously large--global amount of neurons to music, and we are only beginning to understand how and why. Medicine and science are beginning to pay attention to these emergent signs and symptoms. What was once overlooked and ridiculed, a mere footnote in the literature, is now a fertile growth area in psychoanalysis.
- Why do only 1 in 1000 people have perfect pitch?
- Why can music penetrate depression and dementia when human voice cannot?
This book may not be a watershed event in science, but it was for me. I am amusical, arhythmic, and dysharmonic. It was refreshing to read that many people are like me, on the left side of the barbell. For every person that sings out loud or under their breath at work, there are 2 or 3 of us that can’t carry a tune and refuse to karaoke. It’s not that I don’t like music or can’t be moved or buoyed by music; it’s simply that I don’t have a complex relationship to music, and for the most part, I can take it or leave it. I listen to music about 45 minutes a week, mostly on radio during commute. I don’t collect music, stay current with music, play music, or talk about music. It’s quite common, even though you music-o-philes gasp incredulously at my hideousness. My parents are like this, my wife, my siblings, many of my friends. If I was imprisoned, I would miss reading and exercise, but not music.
- Why is the prime symptom of Williams Syndrome an indefatigable attraction to music?
- Why do humans have music hallucinations?
Perhaps I was attracted to the title Musicophilia subconsciously. I know I’m socially deficient regarding things music, and maybe I wanted to discover what power music holds over people. Perhaps I wanted to apply definitions and causes to my amusia. Alas, I’m not deficient. My brain appreciates music, but has developed in other ways. Despite Oliver Sack’s covering cases like mine, I was quite interested to learn how important, indeed life-sustaining, music is for certain brains.
- Why does music cause such a constellation of emotion in humans?
- Why does a brain on music light up like cherries during CAT scans?
My recently deceased grandfather had dementia near the end. A lanky nonagenarian with a full shock of white hair. He forgot a lot of things, including our names and when to urinate, but he didn’t forget how to polka or whistle or play the harmonica. Musicophilia will tell you why, but I like to think it’s because Gramps had something special I can’t yet find.
I would have awarded 5-stars, but there was no transition between the chapters. Sometimes that works, but in non-fiction I like to see a framework guiding the book. I discovered a loose organization, but each chapter could stand independently in a journal like Neuroscience, Scientific American, or Psychology Today. Still...great take-aways.
New words: synesthesia, metanoia, hypnagogic, hypnopompic, anhedonia