Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Emperor of all maladies: a biography of cancer by Siddhartha Mukherjee; in translation

As it was only possible to get ahold of the Dutch translation of Emperor of all Maladies in the libraries here, this is what I read. I found it a fascinating book. The storyline, with its underlying question of how what I now know about cancer fits with the history of development of treatment, was laid out very well. He also sorts through the information in an incredible way - somehow organising and connecting what is obviously a wide range of efforts to fight cancer - despite those efforts being often made disjointly from each other.

He also does a good job of giving a face to cancer: besides the numerous stories of the researchers and doctors and lobbyers fighting cancer, he also tells the tales of those who have cancer, both those who survive and those who don't. Cancer becomes real in a new way to the reader.

Although I found the scientific part of the book incredibly fascinating, I must admit that I was somewhat disappointed by the humanside. Listening to others praise the book, especially the human side of it, I've tried to figure out why I was disappointed. I wonder if reading it in translation hindered my catching all the nuances - and made the individuals slightly flatter. I also wonder if the individuals I know who have had cancer, a number of whom have died, have coloured my understanding of the human side of cancer too much: no matter how many faces or people Mukherjee names, there remains always something slightly less human in a brief synopsis of someone's struggle with cancer when it compares to the reality of having watched a 23-year-old international student lose his fight with stomach cancer.

Another (positive) review of the book can be found at the website from Mountain View Public Library

Saturday, June 18, 2011

The value of reading fantasy literature

Abbot Andrew of St. Gregory's Abbey in Three Rivers, MI recently wrote a great piece expounding the value of reading fantasy literature.

The following is the beginning of it:

Baptizing the Imagination

In Surprised by Joy, C.S. Lewis describes his chance encounter with a book he found in a book stall in a train station that played an important role in his conversion to Christianity. Its title was Phantastes and its author, George MacDonald. With hindsight, Lewis realized that, through the novel’s enchanted landscape, his “imagination was, in a certain sense, baptized.” Here, Lewis uses the term “baptized” in a sub-Christian sense to show how the vision of George MacDonald led him to Christianity. At the time he first read the book, he was overwhelmed, drenched, by the enchantment of MacDonald’s writing. Only later was Lewis overwhelmed by the grace of his baptism when he returned to the faith of his youth, at which time he also appreciated how deeply MacDonald was inspired by the Gospel.

In Phantastes, Lewis “saw the common things drawn into the bright shadow” of MacDonald’s novel. The same can be said of any good fantasy story. It is impossible to see trees the same way after meeting the Ents in Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings. Every fresh snowfall is more enchanting after having read of Will Stanton’s first journey through a time warp to a wintry landscape in Susan Cooper’s The Dark is Rising. The unicorn in Madeleine L’Engle’s The Swiftly Tilting Planet is so luminous that it casts a spell on everything for ever after. (Isn’t that what unicorns are for?)

Much of the enchantment of fantasy stories is that they draw us into a world different from the world we normally live in....

The full article can be downloaded as a 'pdf' file until fall 2011 at the link for current issue.
Otherwise it can be found via the archives of the Abbey Letter: Issue 246. It is the main article in the journal.

Monday, March 28, 2011

Still Alice by Lisa Genova (2007)

This book recounts the story of a successful woman who is faced with early-onset Alzheimer's disease. As the disease progresses, Alice changes and yet stays very much herself, albeit a self that at the beginning of the book neither the reader nor Alice expect. In the beginning of the book, Alice's identity is very much wrapped up in her being a professor at Harvard. Yet, as the book progresses, it becomes obvious that the things so important to her old professor life, things she did not believe she could live without, are actually forgetten as even being of importance. The author conveys this in subtle ways: relating Alice's expectations and perceived necessary level of awareness at the beginning and then subtly showing the reader that Alice has learned to live without these things, without her showing any awareness about what she had lost.

In many ways, it is a tragic story - the loss of a gifted mind and the confusion brought on by Alzheimer's are made real to the reader. And yet, at the same time, it is also a story of hope - Alice is not simply her gifted mind and aspirations, but also someone who loves her family and can enjoy life. Thus, even as her mind goes, she is still Alice. Furthermore, as she becomes more attuned to enjoying life and becoming aware of others, a side of Alice that was earlier overshadowed comes out, bringing joy and restoration in the midst of the all the suffering and loss.