The New Scientist Book Club took a departure from science fiction in October, focusing instead on the winners of the Royal Society Trivedi Science Book Prize. This timely announcement aligned perfectly with our next literary venture.

Among the award nominees were six works by Daniel Levitin, including music as medicine and Vanished: The History of Unnatural Extinction. The jury ultimately selected Masud Hussain’s Our Brains, Ourselves: What a Neurologist’s Patients Tell Us About the Brain. They praised the book as a “poetic exploration of how neurological conditions affect one’s identity,” noting that Hussain cleverly weaves his immigrant experience in 1960s Britain into his medical narratives.

It’s worth mentioning that our book club members tend to be more critical than the Royal Society judges. While there was enthusiasm for exploring non-fiction, several issues emerged throughout our discussions.

Starting with the positives, many of us found the later chapters, where Hussain contemplates the concept of self, particularly thought-provoking regarding the historical evolution of identity and how various brain conditions influence a patient’s self-perception.

Katherine Sarah echoed this sentiment, remarking, “This offers an engaging insight into brain function and the essence of ‘self,’ along with the crucial social skills that enable our integration into society.” Her perspective resonates with those in our Facebook group. As someone who relocated to a new country without knowing the local language, she felt particularly connected to the text.

She reflected, “It struck me how language is integral to our identity, and the challenges of expressing ourselves without it can be profound,” noting parallels to a patient in the book with suppressed motivation due to language barriers. “I, too, felt shy and hesitant when I couldn’t communicate effectively.” She found it fascinating to read about patients with selective cognitive impairments, emphasizing how interconnected our mental faculties truly are.

Gosia Furmanik also appreciated this exploration of identity and migration. “Overall, I enjoyed the book’s engaging style and insightful examples. The reflections on identity toward the end really resonated with me, especially as someone who has migrated multiple times,” she noted.

Judith Lazell enjoyed the humor and readability of the text, calling it a “fantastic choice.” Jennifer Marano valued the chapter about Wahid, a bus driver with Lewy body dementia who begins experiencing hallucinations. “This shifted my understanding of perception and hallucinations,” she remarked. “The world feels solid, but it’s amazing to think that our brains construct the visual stimuli we perceive. I wonder what others might be experiencing.”

When I spoke with Hussain, I was curious about his narrative approach, especially moments that felt a bit contrived. For instance, when he notices a monument to Samuel Johnson while thinking about a patient: “That irony made me smile,” he said, as he connects the great lexicographer with a patient struggling with word recall, diving into a lengthy discussion about lexicography.

Hussain explained he felt it necessary to fictionalize some scenarios to protect patient identities, a technique that makes narrative sense. However, I found some instances a bit forced.

Niall Leighton shared similar criticisms, focusing on the perceived stiffness in Hussain’s patient interactions. “I couldn’t help but think these encounters seemed overly scripted, which became increasingly frustrating,” he noted.

Gosia expressed relief that she wasn’t alone in feeling these aspects detracted from the narrative. She pointed out that Hussain’s admission in interviews about substantial fictionalization might explain some discrepancies. “Perhaps a significant amount was imagined,” she suggested.

Some members expressed irritation with Hussain’s ornate language at times. Jennifer commented, “It felt as if he was attempting to craft a ‘great British novel’ with descriptions ill-fitting for a science book.”

Judith and Niall found Hussain’s habit of defining terms like “vertebrate (animal with a backbone)” redundant. “Everyone reading this book likely understands these concepts,” Judith remarked.

Niall added, “It feels patronizing to repeatedly define terms like ‘atrophy’ and ‘neuron.’ It made me question who the author perceived his audience to be.”

This raises a valid dilemma. While our book club consists of well-informed readers, balancing helpfulness with potential condescension is a challenging line to navigate.

A significant concern for some members was Hussain’s use of the term “normal” in relation to brain function. For instance, he mentioned a patient’s behavior, stating, “Like any normal person, he began to take risks.”

Gosia expressed frustration with phrases labeling healthy individuals as “normal,” questioning, “Who determines what ‘normal’ is? It’s crucial to recognize that illness is also a standard part of our human experience. For a book steeped in philosophy, this viewpoint seemed surprisingly simplistic.”

Niall voiced similar sentiments, stating, “As a neurodivergent individual, the label ‘normal’ irks me. The ambiguity surrounding it is quite bothersome,” he said.

Jennifer, despite her critical views on Our Brains, Ourselves, mentioned she felt more understanding after watching an interview with Hussain in New Scientist magazine. “While some aspects were challenging, I have to commend him for his dedication to his work and the effort it took to bring this book to fruition,” she reflected. “I can appreciate that passion, given I’ve never written nor published a book myself.”

Never say never, Jennifer! Perhaps one day, we’ll see your book featured in the New Scientist Book Club! For now, I’m excited to dive into another read in November that examines the intricacies of the brain through the lens of science fiction. Join us for Grace Chan’s Every Version of You, set in a ravaged world where humanity has migrated to a digital utopia in search of solace from a dying Earth. How do these virtual minds contrast with what remains of our physical selves?