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The Diagnosis: A Novel
Businessman Bill Chalmers descends into a nightmare as he pursues a diagnosis for the strange illness--involving a bizarre memory loss and a strange numbness that gradually affects his entire body--that has affected him. By the author of Einstein's Dreams. 50,000 first printing.
384 pages, Hardcover
First published August 1, 2000
29 people are currently reading
748 people want to read
About the author
Alan Lightman
49 books1,306 followersAlan Lightman is an American writer, physicist, and social entrepreneur. Born in 1948, he was educated at Princeton and at the California Institute of Technology, where he received a PhD in theoretical physics. He has received five honorary doctoral degrees. Lightman has served on the faculties of Harvard and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) and was the first person at MIT to receive dual faculty appointments in science and in the humanities. He is currently professor of the practice of the humanities at MIT. His scientific research in astrophysics has concerned
black holes, relativity theory, radiative processes, and the dynamics of systems of stars. His essays and articles have appeared in the Atlantic, Granta, Harper’s, the New Yorker, the New York Review of Books, Salon, and many other publications. His essays are often chosen by the New York Times as among the best essays of the year. He is the author of 6 novels, several collections of essays, a memoir, and a book-length narrative poem, as well as several books on science. His novel Einstein’s Dreams was an international bestseller and has been the basis for dozens of independent theatrical and musical adaptations around the world. His novel The Diagnosis was a finalist for the National Book Award. His most recent books are The Accidental Universe, which was chosen by Brain Pickings as one of the 10 best books of 2014, his memoir Screening Room, which was chosen by the Washington Post as one of the best books of the year for 2016,
and Searching for Stars on an Island in Maine (2018), an extended meditation on science and religion – which was the basis for an essay
on PBS Newshour. Lightman is an elected fellow of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences. He is also the founder of the Harpswell Foundation, a nonprofit organization whose mission is “to advance a new generation of women leaders in Southeast Asia.” He has received the gold medal for humanitarian service from the government of Cambodia.
black holes, relativity theory, radiative processes, and the dynamics of systems of stars. His essays and articles have appeared in the Atlantic, Granta, Harper’s, the New Yorker, the New York Review of Books, Salon, and many other publications. His essays are often chosen by the New York Times as among the best essays of the year. He is the author of 6 novels, several collections of essays, a memoir, and a book-length narrative poem, as well as several books on science. His novel Einstein’s Dreams was an international bestseller and has been the basis for dozens of independent theatrical and musical adaptations around the world. His novel The Diagnosis was a finalist for the National Book Award. His most recent books are The Accidental Universe, which was chosen by Brain Pickings as one of the 10 best books of 2014, his memoir Screening Room, which was chosen by the Washington Post as one of the best books of the year for 2016,
and Searching for Stars on an Island in Maine (2018), an extended meditation on science and religion – which was the basis for an essay
on PBS Newshour. Lightman is an elected fellow of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences. He is also the founder of the Harpswell Foundation, a nonprofit organization whose mission is “to advance a new generation of women leaders in Southeast Asia.” He has received the gold medal for humanitarian service from the government of Cambodia.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 150 reviews
November 22, 2024
Bill Chalmers is commuting to work one Boston morning when he suddenly realizes he can't remember which subway stop is his, or what company employs him. He rides to the end of the line and back, managing to lose his briefcase, thinking of the three meetings he has that day. After ending up on the floor in a fetal position, he's taken to the hospital, where his memory begins to return. Embarrassed, he returns to work, claiming everything was the result of a mugging.
But he develops physical symptoms of something, numbness first in his hands and then slowly over his body. He visits his internist, has sessions with a psychiatrist, goes on anti-depressants, but - despite the book's title - never gets a diagnosis. The novel suggests that all the digital technology in his life - the work emails, the giant files with all their gigabytes that his colleagues send around, the rat race conducted on computers and flip phones - is the cause of his malaise. He's alienated from his teenage son and his wife, who is having an online affair. Soon he's in a wheelchair and diapers.
Tedious email chains are included, rife with intentional typos - to a ridiculous degree - yes, some people make typos, but not everyone you correspond with makes 20 mistakes per email. At about the halfway point, the author inserts a parallel narrative in some chapters, the story of Anytus and Socrates, which Bill's son has downloaded from a university course. It's not clear what this achieves.
The emphasis on tech feels stale, as does the whole novel. Published in 2000, it gives off odors of the 80s and 90s. Whenever Bill's wife dabbed on makeup, I felt like we were in the presence of Tammy Faye Bakker, but I don't think the author intended that - this was just his notion of a slightly frivolous woman. Maybe the biggest flaw was that we're being presented with a situation, rather than human characters.
August 16, 2019
A novel of despair and dark humor
This is a novel about the numbing of our lives. What is our disease? We don't know. What is the cure? There is no cure.
Is this the price we pay for the guilt we feel for never being man enough? How is it that we fail in the midst of success? We are sick, but what is the disease? What is the diagnosis? Where is the pain? It is not physical. We feel it in our minds and in our souls. We are tired, weary. We know the prognosis--it is death, of course--but what is the cause?
In this tortured comédie noire, Professsor Alan Lightman gives us his vision of the materialistic horror that is our lives, the information and subsistence overload that is suffocating us to death. Bill Chalmers, second level management cog, begins to unravel. First his memory goes, and then is recovered, but then the numbness sets in, in his fingers, his legs. And it advances. We watch as he fills up with bile, bile, everything is bile.
We are angry, but like Bill Chalmers we cannot lash out. We are married to the corporation, as Chalmers is to Plymouth where he "processes information." We do not learn that he does anything more specific. It doesn't matter what the information is. He processes it. The company's motto is "The maximum information in the minimum time." The vagueness of the content of their information mirrors the emptiness of our lives. More information for what? Faster for what? To what end? We do not know.
The doctors, who would diagnosis us, Lightman assures us, are like gleeful clowns in their vast ignorance, playing with their high tech toys, a cyclotron for PET scans, a "cell separator...like a portable washing machine...," spinning dials and writing articles for the Annals of Psychosomatic Disease, comparing notes with colleagues over the Internet, by cell phone. Meanwhile the patient is but a curiosity, a subject for examination and study.
Lightman uses the empty dialogue of our lives for comedic effect. We say nothing to one another and we answer with nothing, although sometimes we cry out, and life goes on. Chalmers's wife is numbing herself with alcohol while she conducts a bloodless affair by e-mail. Like Chalmers and his wife, we are estranged from life itself. "He hated the mall the same way he hated himself, except that he hated himself more because he was a part of the mall and he knew it" (pp. 343-344). Yes, the mall and our vast hunger to consume are symptoms of our disease.
Chalmers is angry (as his shrink Dr. Kripke so astutely discerns, although that is all he discerns). Chalmers cries out in his mind: "I'm going to break every machine on this planet...I'm going to rip the phones out of the wall" (p. 303, no exclamation marks). But he never has and he never will, and that is "the problem" that has become "an illness."
How real is Lightman's "diagnosis" of our society? Consider this, the fastest growing class of disease in this country is autoimmune disease, e.g., rheumatoid arthritis, chronic fatigue syndrome, fibromyalgia, etc., diseases of unclear cause in which the body is apparently assaulting itself. (Compare Lightman's delineation on p. 274).
Juxtaposed among the pages is a tale of the last days of Socrates and of one of the men who condemned him. Somehow Anytus, the ancient Greek, and Chalmers, the American, are brothers in their strange failure amid the trappings of worldly success. Anytus killed Socrates, the flower of Grecian civilization. Chalmers is killing himself. Why? Again, they do not know. We have a stupendous wealth of information, but all of it is useless, as Mrs. Stumm, the wife of one of the information executives, tells Chalmers as she waves a hand at a stack of papers, "What is this crap?...Useless. This stuff is useless." (p. 255). She speaks the truth, but they cannot hear it.
Lightman's art owes something to the imagination of Dalton Trumbo's Johnny Got His Gun, in the latter chapters, and something to the spirit of Joseph Heller's Catch-22 throughout. There are shades and echos of the black humor of Evelyn Waugh and Nathanael West. This is a fine novel with a strong sense of the spiritual emptiness of our corporate existence. One senses that Lightman feels that in love there is a flicker of hope, but that is all. The mind goes, like the mind of Chalmers's mother, and with it, the possibility of love. Or perhaps there is a moment of redemption in the intense experience of the minutia of our lives, as when Chalmers studies and lovingly draws the leaf he sees outside his bedroom window. Only this and nothing more interrupts the bleak and lonely landscape of Lightman's vision.
--Dennis Littrell, author of the mystery novel, “Teddy and Teri”
This is a novel about the numbing of our lives. What is our disease? We don't know. What is the cure? There is no cure.
Is this the price we pay for the guilt we feel for never being man enough? How is it that we fail in the midst of success? We are sick, but what is the disease? What is the diagnosis? Where is the pain? It is not physical. We feel it in our minds and in our souls. We are tired, weary. We know the prognosis--it is death, of course--but what is the cause?
In this tortured comédie noire, Professsor Alan Lightman gives us his vision of the materialistic horror that is our lives, the information and subsistence overload that is suffocating us to death. Bill Chalmers, second level management cog, begins to unravel. First his memory goes, and then is recovered, but then the numbness sets in, in his fingers, his legs. And it advances. We watch as he fills up with bile, bile, everything is bile.
We are angry, but like Bill Chalmers we cannot lash out. We are married to the corporation, as Chalmers is to Plymouth where he "processes information." We do not learn that he does anything more specific. It doesn't matter what the information is. He processes it. The company's motto is "The maximum information in the minimum time." The vagueness of the content of their information mirrors the emptiness of our lives. More information for what? Faster for what? To what end? We do not know.
The doctors, who would diagnosis us, Lightman assures us, are like gleeful clowns in their vast ignorance, playing with their high tech toys, a cyclotron for PET scans, a "cell separator...like a portable washing machine...," spinning dials and writing articles for the Annals of Psychosomatic Disease, comparing notes with colleagues over the Internet, by cell phone. Meanwhile the patient is but a curiosity, a subject for examination and study.
Lightman uses the empty dialogue of our lives for comedic effect. We say nothing to one another and we answer with nothing, although sometimes we cry out, and life goes on. Chalmers's wife is numbing herself with alcohol while she conducts a bloodless affair by e-mail. Like Chalmers and his wife, we are estranged from life itself. "He hated the mall the same way he hated himself, except that he hated himself more because he was a part of the mall and he knew it" (pp. 343-344). Yes, the mall and our vast hunger to consume are symptoms of our disease.
Chalmers is angry (as his shrink Dr. Kripke so astutely discerns, although that is all he discerns). Chalmers cries out in his mind: "I'm going to break every machine on this planet...I'm going to rip the phones out of the wall" (p. 303, no exclamation marks). But he never has and he never will, and that is "the problem" that has become "an illness."
How real is Lightman's "diagnosis" of our society? Consider this, the fastest growing class of disease in this country is autoimmune disease, e.g., rheumatoid arthritis, chronic fatigue syndrome, fibromyalgia, etc., diseases of unclear cause in which the body is apparently assaulting itself. (Compare Lightman's delineation on p. 274).
Juxtaposed among the pages is a tale of the last days of Socrates and of one of the men who condemned him. Somehow Anytus, the ancient Greek, and Chalmers, the American, are brothers in their strange failure amid the trappings of worldly success. Anytus killed Socrates, the flower of Grecian civilization. Chalmers is killing himself. Why? Again, they do not know. We have a stupendous wealth of information, but all of it is useless, as Mrs. Stumm, the wife of one of the information executives, tells Chalmers as she waves a hand at a stack of papers, "What is this crap?...Useless. This stuff is useless." (p. 255). She speaks the truth, but they cannot hear it.
Lightman's art owes something to the imagination of Dalton Trumbo's Johnny Got His Gun, in the latter chapters, and something to the spirit of Joseph Heller's Catch-22 throughout. There are shades and echos of the black humor of Evelyn Waugh and Nathanael West. This is a fine novel with a strong sense of the spiritual emptiness of our corporate existence. One senses that Lightman feels that in love there is a flicker of hope, but that is all. The mind goes, like the mind of Chalmers's mother, and with it, the possibility of love. Or perhaps there is a moment of redemption in the intense experience of the minutia of our lives, as when Chalmers studies and lovingly draws the leaf he sees outside his bedroom window. Only this and nothing more interrupts the bleak and lonely landscape of Lightman's vision.
--Dennis Littrell, author of the mystery novel, “Teddy and Teri”
May 28, 2013
The description of this book is somewhat misleading. Even the way it begins is misleading. It starts off great, and it's even hard to put down because it doesn't lag in introducing the plot or characters. The dilemma of this man losing his memory was what reeled me in to begin with.
As the main character is trying to desperately find a diagnosis for his illness, the story still has some good moments. I think it was a few pages before half-way through the book when I realized that it wasn't going anywhere. And like most other people said, the rest was just torture reading. It was slow and psychologically exhausting to read about a man whose life is just spiraling down a terrible road and you go page after page hoping for a glint of hope for a solution but there is none.
I was very upset when I finished reading the book, and I wouldn't recommend it. Personally, the message I got from it was that people in our society don't slow down to enjoy the little things and that they're blind to the life happening around them. But I think a book can deliver this message without being so dull and depressing. Once I finished reading the last page I really couldn't believe there wasn't more to it. It felt as if the book was just cut halfway through. There was no closure.
I can tell the author attempted to make the characters human and easy to relate to. But they actually weren't. All the characters seemed to have deep-rooted mental issues and the worst part of it, is that they just barely touched them on the surface. There was no explanation to anything. It was all questions and no answers. I don't suggest anyone waste their time on this book!
As the main character is trying to desperately find a diagnosis for his illness, the story still has some good moments. I think it was a few pages before half-way through the book when I realized that it wasn't going anywhere. And like most other people said, the rest was just torture reading. It was slow and psychologically exhausting to read about a man whose life is just spiraling down a terrible road and you go page after page hoping for a glint of hope for a solution but there is none.
I was very upset when I finished reading the book, and I wouldn't recommend it. Personally, the message I got from it was that people in our society don't slow down to enjoy the little things and that they're blind to the life happening around them. But I think a book can deliver this message without being so dull and depressing. Once I finished reading the last page I really couldn't believe there wasn't more to it. It felt as if the book was just cut halfway through. There was no closure.
I can tell the author attempted to make the characters human and easy to relate to. But they actually weren't. All the characters seemed to have deep-rooted mental issues and the worst part of it, is that they just barely touched them on the surface. There was no explanation to anything. It was all questions and no answers. I don't suggest anyone waste their time on this book!
July 24, 2012
This unusual work explores the oppression, indeed the submerged terror, of trying to maintain one's humanity in the rush of the world as it is today. The tyranny of tech, the vapidity of mass produced 'values', the embeddedness of material obsession - stuff, the embrace of cliche as a guiding force all finally overwhelm the protagonist. The book is funny - at least at first as the reader is drawn in, after all it is social satire. Still it becomes heartbreaking as our times in fact are.
August 15, 2024
When I started this book I thought I’d hate it because I didn’t think it would be the kind of book Alan lightman would be good at writing. It turns out he wrote it perfectly but I’m taking off one star for being so depressing
July 10, 2012
PAINFUL. It was basically about a guy who was just getting sicker and sicker and then making dumb decisions. Many pages were spent describing his work days, with things like 'and then I got an e-mail from so and so, and I was frustrated because I thought this person might be trying to usurp my spot in the company. Or maybe not.' Spending a day at work is boring enough. I don't need to hear a blow-by-blow of someone else's. Also, I just didn't like the character. The guy was an idiot. He wasn't very nice or smart, and it was hard to feel for him in his situation. Not worth reading.
September 19, 2008
I'll give you a diagnosis, alright. You have suckitis.
August 7, 2012
This book was more than painful to finish. It started off as an interesting medical foray about a man who is on the train to work when he suddenly loses his memory as to who he is, where he is going, etc. After seeking medical attention, his memory does come back but he is left with numbing of his hands which greatly affects his ability to function at work. His job seems to be litttle more than pushing paper, emails, and phone calls around for numerous business clients. His wife is distant and fustrated as he attempts to navigate through the medical community to find a diagnosis for his mysterious illness which involves progression of the numbness. It seems to be a commentary on the slow decline of our society, how we are caught up as mere cogs in wheel, however, Lightman does little to make this journey enjoyable to read. None of the characters are interesting, you as the reader are just as fustrated as Bill Chalmers the main character, and it is s struggle to finish the mightly 350+ page tomb. Would not recommend anyone attempt to read this unless you don't mind slow torture.
May 9, 2013
Initially I thought this book had potential and that it was not only going to be an examination of how technology disconnects us socially and spiritually but I incorrectly assumed that it would also be an exploration of what constitutes human consciousness. First impressions are often incorrect.
I understand what Lightman was attemtping to accomplish and his writing style was chosen to reflect the points he was making about technology, the speed of life, disintegrating societies filled with cold-hearted selfish apathetic people who are bland and uninteresting even in their quest to uncover the mysteries and reveal some sort of truth, but occasional bursts of beautiful prose weren't enough to carry this story.
The characters were devoid of any layered human characteristics and even though he's making a point about humanity, by the 21st century, having reached a point of being a sea of robots just going through the motions it doesn't jive. No one is that one-dimensional and this wasn't a fairytale where applying basic archetypes would've worked.
It drove me nuts how every single email correspondence had typos in it. Even the ones by the professionals. None of these characters would use spellcheck?
The book started with a bang and ended with a whimper. Intentional? If it was I don't even care because the lack of consistency throughout the novel had me sluggishly struggling and skimming through huge sections I felt clogged the plot and should've been cut out in editing. In the end it didn't matter because none of the originally posed questions were answered or even thoughtfully left dangling for the reader to come to his/her own conclusions about what actually happened or if any of it really mattered.
This is a reminder to me that if an author I don't like praises a book chances are I won't like the author he/she is lauding.
It's not a terrible book but I would definitely not recommend it.
I understand what Lightman was attemtping to accomplish and his writing style was chosen to reflect the points he was making about technology, the speed of life, disintegrating societies filled with cold-hearted selfish apathetic people who are bland and uninteresting even in their quest to uncover the mysteries and reveal some sort of truth, but occasional bursts of beautiful prose weren't enough to carry this story.
The characters were devoid of any layered human characteristics and even though he's making a point about humanity, by the 21st century, having reached a point of being a sea of robots just going through the motions it doesn't jive. No one is that one-dimensional and this wasn't a fairytale where applying basic archetypes would've worked.
It drove me nuts how every single email correspondence had typos in it. Even the ones by the professionals. None of these characters would use spellcheck?
The book started with a bang and ended with a whimper. Intentional? If it was I don't even care because the lack of consistency throughout the novel had me sluggishly struggling and skimming through huge sections I felt clogged the plot and should've been cut out in editing. In the end it didn't matter because none of the originally posed questions were answered or even thoughtfully left dangling for the reader to come to his/her own conclusions about what actually happened or if any of it really mattered.
This is a reminder to me that if an author I don't like praises a book chances are I won't like the author he/she is lauding.
It's not a terrible book but I would definitely not recommend it.
October 18, 2019
Oof. I had high hopes for this because the first chapter or two really pulls you in. But honestly, you can read the first little bit and the last little bit and get the gist of things just fine. I really didn't like the interspersed philosophy bits although I understand why they were there I guess. None of the characters were particularly likeable except for Gerty, their dog.
August 29, 2008
I kept waiting for something to happen. After 369 pages I was still waiting.
December 6, 2017
I hated every single thing about this book. I only finished it so I could honorably give it one star. I admit I skimmed the last few chapters because I was beginning to feel like killing myself. I wanted the protagonist to die. He never did anything. Everything happened to him. The story may as well been about a wad of gum. Every character was an asshole. Finishing this book was like waiting for something you hate to die. Imagine one aspect or characteristic of a book that would make you not like it. Now imagine if one book had 100 of those things. You name it. Dialogue. Characters. Plot. Paragraph structure. Formatting. All terrible. It almost made me never want to read ever again. Okay I think I’m done.
October 15, 2007
If I could have the time back, I would unread this book. More upsetting than revelatory, this books reveals only that people who have not gone through chronic illness think it's dramatic to do so.
It's fucking not.
The book was pretty accurate in almost all of its premises: breakdown, difficulty of diagnosis, withdrawal, lack of communication, interpersonal relationships. The one assumption I could not agree with was that the book was worth the time it took to write or read.
If you haven't called your parents today, do so. You ungrateful son of a bitch.
It's fucking not.
The book was pretty accurate in almost all of its premises: breakdown, difficulty of diagnosis, withdrawal, lack of communication, interpersonal relationships. The one assumption I could not agree with was that the book was worth the time it took to write or read.
If you haven't called your parents today, do so. You ungrateful son of a bitch.
June 11, 2017
"Young man?"
"Yes, doctor."
"One day you will die."
"Thank you, Doctor."
"You are welcome. You can pay the receptionist now."
"Yes, doctor."
"One day you will die."
"Thank you, Doctor."
"You are welcome. You can pay the receptionist now."
June 26, 2019
An American caught up in our healthcare system by way of Kafka.
June 29, 2023
this book is not that bad, i think it could have used more plot toward the end and it definitely is a little on the nose about digital disillusionment and the rat race that is life and having a corporate job and all that but i kind of liked the crux of the book which is the idea of the elusive diagnosis where bill is struck with a sudden inability to deal with life and no one can really tell if it’s mental or physical but it’s clearly affecting him, there isn’t a valid reason for the problem and thus bill feels like he can’t justify his uselessness or seek a way out and i feel like the frustration associated with this is depicted very well
January 19, 2024
Actually one of the worst books I’ve ever read. It felt like such a waste of time because I was so intrigued with WHAT WAS THE DIAGNOSIS just to close the book with no answers. And yeeaas I understand that’s the point and the lesson on life that the book wants to get across but I just didn’t enjoy my experience.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 26, 2022
too many loose ends and the storytelling just felt very disjointed... i am very disappointed :(
October 5, 2023
Sad trombone noises
November 11, 2024
Bought this bc I liked the cover and without looking at Goodreads beforehand. Definitely don’t think it deserves the low rating and bad reviews it has — it felt a bit discombobulated at times & I didn’t always like where Lightman took the story, but it wasn’t *that* bad. I wish Bill’s illness had been tied up a little bit more at the end. The first few chapters were especially gripping, and I think it would’ve been a more successful read if the rest of the novel followed in that same vein. Overall, not bad, and it was the kind of easy read I needed to distract me from the world rn
September 7, 2025
Whoa! After reading a few pages I had to check the book's author to make sure I wasn't reading Cormac McCarthy. I found the dust cover summary to be misleading. This is truly a relentlessly dark story which I wasn't prepared for but Lightman writes it so well that I stuck it out to the end. Just be prepared for a lot of gloom.
June 26, 2008
Bill Chalmers marks his days by knowing where specifically he is to be what time. Meetings, appointments, time allotted for e-mails and phone calls, family, etc. So when Bill suffers a severe memory loss on his commute to work one day his life is forever altered. He eventually remembers his purpose, but only after being taken to the hospital under humiliating circumstances. The return of his memory does not mark the return of his health; in fact his health deteriorates from that point on - first in numbness in his extremities, then his inability to walk or have any control over his motor skills, and down the spiral he goes. He spends a significant amount of time visiting doctors, none of whom are able to shine any light on what has caused his illness; as is typical he is asked to see a psychiatrist as it is insinuated that perhaps his illness and his deteriorating physicality is really all just in his mind and if he just learns how to control his anger...
Alan Lightman does a great job at describing this character's frustrations, from spending time with incompetent receptionists in doctors' offices to the doctors themselves not shedding any light on the issues to watching his family and his job fall apart as quickly as does his body. It is a horrifying story and one that makes one latch on to what is truly important as this man on the page loses absolutely everything.
Not as powerful as Lightman's previous Einstein's Dreams but then if he wrote everything exactly the same where would be the sport in that? I have read complaints primarily about the lack of resolution in the end and I have no sympathy for those with this complaint. Very rarely is there resolution in real life and debilitating illness is a frightening thing, particularly when there is no diagnosis. Granted this is not an uplifting book, and it hurts to see how each of the characters is affected by Bill's illness; but it is well-written and intense and pretty accurate as far as sickness goes, both of the mind and the body.
My only real complaint is the amount of typos in the e-mail sequences. My brain exploded in just about every sentence during those pages and it baffles me that such educated people (doctors, lawyers) are unable to write a complete sentence without several typos. Working with doctors myself I know how they write e-mails (generally on the fly), but I also know they put a lot more time and effort into those that go to their patients. Or they have their secretary fix those mistakes before they hit Send. More importantly, however, is the fact that most doctors do not communicate with their patients via e-mail. And the fact that the doctor in this book did really irked me.
Alan Lightman does a great job at describing this character's frustrations, from spending time with incompetent receptionists in doctors' offices to the doctors themselves not shedding any light on the issues to watching his family and his job fall apart as quickly as does his body. It is a horrifying story and one that makes one latch on to what is truly important as this man on the page loses absolutely everything.
Not as powerful as Lightman's previous Einstein's Dreams but then if he wrote everything exactly the same where would be the sport in that? I have read complaints primarily about the lack of resolution in the end and I have no sympathy for those with this complaint. Very rarely is there resolution in real life and debilitating illness is a frightening thing, particularly when there is no diagnosis. Granted this is not an uplifting book, and it hurts to see how each of the characters is affected by Bill's illness; but it is well-written and intense and pretty accurate as far as sickness goes, both of the mind and the body.
My only real complaint is the amount of typos in the e-mail sequences. My brain exploded in just about every sentence during those pages and it baffles me that such educated people (doctors, lawyers) are unable to write a complete sentence without several typos. Working with doctors myself I know how they write e-mails (generally on the fly), but I also know they put a lot more time and effort into those that go to their patients. Or they have their secretary fix those mistakes before they hit Send. More importantly, however, is the fact that most doctors do not communicate with their patients via e-mail. And the fact that the doctor in this book did really irked me.
February 7, 2017
This novel had a unique story line that at times didn't seem plausible, but I managed to look past the absurdity of the scene for the message it was trying to convey. In that sense, I think the messages in the book were cleverly demonstrated and interestingly done. One of the common themes in the book was that people are constantly rushing and the syntax from Lightman was phenomenal as I felt like I was running through the reading at times; certain scenes, when everything was hitting me and I couldn't stay focused on what Bill Chalmers was talking about because he also could not stay focused on anything. Again, this book shows life through many extremes, but I think there are many aspects that are identical to real life as well and those are the ones that stand out. The Diagnosis is appropriately named and gives us a look at ourselves and how we often crave answers and closure before we become comfortable again.
July 9, 2019
Loved it. I read the Amazon reviews to see that most people didn't like or understand this book. I've had the good fortune of speaking with/interviewing the author, and I know what his recurring themes are and how he hopes to execute them, so I did not have a problem figuring out what he was trying to do. Also, there are paragraphs in this book that are just so beautifully written they took my breath away. Did not give it 5 stars because I hardly ever do that, and there were moments I felt I was slogging. But on the whole, I thought it was grand.
October 27, 2007
I actually listened to this on tape. I buy used tapes so don't always have much selection. Picked this becausese I tend to be fascinated by things medical. I kept listening in hopes of a resolution. Btween the first tape and the last I suffered through a major Slough of Bad Writing.
April 3, 2009
Well, it gathered steam and I enjoyed the ending (no spoilers). there are some messages therein, but also a literary exercise, I think, and that's not too much fun.
"I'm not as f***ed as those people!" Whew!
"I'm not as f***ed as those people!" Whew!
February 2, 2018
I don’t understand those who give this novel negative reviews. I was immediately hooked by this dark but at times comedic work. It provided me with justification to continue to “forget” to check my email. I anticipate appreciating it even more when I read it again
September 11, 2022
Hard to put down. Just finished.
To aAll the “such a downer” reviews here? You are like every character in the book. You dont see. You dont get. I am not bill and i am not destined to share his fate but the way he sees the world is very familiar.
To aAll the “such a downer” reviews here? You are like every character in the book. You dont see. You dont get. I am not bill and i am not destined to share his fate but the way he sees the world is very familiar.
February 26, 2022
The concept of a mystery illness intrigued me. When he first started to struggle and lost his memory on his way to work, I was appalled at how the people around him treated him. I could understand the strangers on a subway being a tad leery of a stranger seeming to have mental illness but why didn't someone call for him to be helped? I didn't like how the one officer made fun of him, and the doctors running unauthorized, unapproved tests on him just to try out new equipment was horrible!
Bill's wife was selfish and only thought of how his illness affected her. Ugh! It was so unfair that his workplace fired him Granted, he was struggling to do his job but he should have been given some support first before just being fired.
I also hated how the doctors just pushed him along and never really seemed to help him. He was just sent to all kinds of specialists but was given no answers. I completely understand how frustrating this can be.
The ending of this book was awful! It was like the author had met his page requirement for the book and just stopped. I was hoping for the book to go somewhere.....a diagnosis, a cure, happiness with life, fulfillment, acceptance..........anything.
The story within the book through his son was just annoying to me.....again....page requirement filler?
Bill's wife was selfish and only thought of how his illness affected her. Ugh! It was so unfair that his workplace fired him Granted, he was struggling to do his job but he should have been given some support first before just being fired.
I also hated how the doctors just pushed him along and never really seemed to help him. He was just sent to all kinds of specialists but was given no answers. I completely understand how frustrating this can be.
The ending of this book was awful! It was like the author had met his page requirement for the book and just stopped. I was hoping for the book to go somewhere.....a diagnosis, a cure, happiness with life, fulfillment, acceptance..........anything.
The story within the book through his son was just annoying to me.....again....page requirement filler?
April 20, 2024
This book was a challenge and a disappointment. I waffled on rating this with 1 vs 2 stars, the issue for me being that I never developed any sympathy for the main character (Bill), never understood whether his disease was physical or 'merely' mental, and did not understand why some of the components of the story were included.
The plot centers around the psychic experience of Bill, who succumbs to a mysterious wasting disease that begins with a mental failure, but eventually leads to a full physical paralysis. As he succumbs physically, he responds with despair and anger to those around him, while they in turn try to help him when they are not actively avoiding him.
This novel is somewhat Kafka-esque in the depiction of a man who wastes away, fueled (potentially) by his own feelings of confusion and inadequacy. The novel compounds this by portraying the other characters as having their own duplicitous and secret lives.
Another dynamic in this book is a parallel story of a merchant in Ancient Greece, a man who is principally responsible for the demise of Socrates (spelled Sokrates in the book). The tribulations of this merchant seem somehow to correlate to the problems of our protagonist, but this all seems a bit of a muddle.
The plot centers around the psychic experience of Bill, who succumbs to a mysterious wasting disease that begins with a mental failure, but eventually leads to a full physical paralysis. As he succumbs physically, he responds with despair and anger to those around him, while they in turn try to help him when they are not actively avoiding him.
This novel is somewhat Kafka-esque in the depiction of a man who wastes away, fueled (potentially) by his own feelings of confusion and inadequacy. The novel compounds this by portraying the other characters as having their own duplicitous and secret lives.
Another dynamic in this book is a parallel story of a merchant in Ancient Greece, a man who is principally responsible for the demise of Socrates (spelled Sokrates in the book). The tribulations of this merchant seem somehow to correlate to the problems of our protagonist, but this all seems a bit of a muddle.
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