Understandably, I’ve been reading a ton on the Middle Kingdom lately. I’ve read 3 travelogues on China recently, to the effect that they are all beginning to blend weirdly in my head. Rather than bore you with THREE accounts of the same, I will post just the review of the one I liked best, from favorite author J. Maarten Troost:

I  remember quite clearly one fine spring day in Arkansas, where I found myself negotiating a moving truck from a nearby UHaul distrubutor from the pleasant confines of a Barnes and Noble. With travel on my mind, I wandered over to travel essays, and found myself drawn to <i>Lost on Planet China: The Strange and True Story of One Man’s Attempt to Understand the World’s Most Mystifying Nation or How He Became Comfortable Eating Live Squid</i>. I had never heard of this J. Maarten Troost fellow, and I had no idea he had actually written two other uproariously funny travel essays. I did know that I had recently been in China, I was constantly surprised by how much I missed it, and that this Troost fellow absolutely <i>nailed</i> what it was like to be a passenger in China.

But being the completely bonkers type-A person that I am, I pulled myself away from Troost’s experiences in China and sought his books out in chronological order. Finally, FINALLY, I was able to finish this marvelous tome on what is truly, one of the weirdest, most complex nations today. And one that I will soon find myself living in.

By far the most entertaining of the many adventures-in-China books out there

Genre: nonfiction, travel

Plot: Troost and his wife, Sylvia, have had just about enough of American suburbia. But while she’s thinking Monterey would be a good alternative, he’s heard mysterious things about China and decides to embark on an extended trip there. He spends over  6 months (I think it’s closer to 8, actually, but he never says explicitly) traveling from one end to the other, seeking to understand this chaotic country. From frozen, psuedo-Russian Harbin to austere Lhasa, Troost makes an impressive tour for one little laowai on his own.

Structure:  Considerably longer than his previous books, Troost writes a whalloping 24 chapters telling of his adventures in chronological order. 

Execution:  I am still undecided as to which I liked better, The Sex Lives of Cannibals or this one. The former was much funnier, but the latter is definitely Troost’s best prose. He writes about some pretty unique experiences, like hiking Tiger Leaping Gorge, visiting Tibetan monestaries, and eating live squid; this I appreciated muchly, because I felt like not only had I traveled with him, I had gotten a feel for places in China that I will probably never experience personally (and isn’t that the goal of good travel writing?). I will probably never get to see the Great Wall, but now I know not to bother with the Traditional Medicine Clinic. This is advice you can probably get in other books, but not in such an entertaining fashion.

He’s still carrying the political writ he acquired in Getting Stoned with Savages, though, and that was a bit of a downer. Yes, I know, the government of China is hardly up for the Nobel prize, but his scathing commentary on both the Chinese and American political situation was often below the belt, and honestly, seemed like negativity for negativity’s sake. But still, I will forgive him because he seems like a very nice Dutch/Czech Canadian, and perhaps he can teach this native Texan something about being an American.

Theme: China (various cities), Tibet, Macau, Hong Kong, Chinese transportation, Chinese politics, the Chinese approach to the environment

Read this if you have been, or plan to, visit China anytime soon; you will learn many interesting things that will help you adjust in that too often startling land, or will smile and wistfully remember your time in there.

3 out of 5 stars

Other works:
The Sex Lives of Cannibals
Getting Stoned with Savages

If you liked this, you  might also like:
How to Cook a Dragon – Linda Furiya
Serve the People – Jen Liu-Lin
Fried Eggs with Chopsticks – Polly Evans
The Fortune Cookie Chronicals – Jennifer Lee

Think 1001 Nights meets The Hunchback of Notre Dame, with a heavy dose of Inferno for good measure

Genre: fiction, novel

Plot: This remarkable books begins as the narrator plunges off the road in a terrible car accident that leaves him severely burned. As he endures the torments of burn recovery, his only thought is planning his elaborate suicide. Then he meets Marianne Engel, a sculptress who claims they were lovers in medieval Germany. Although he is skeptical, she enchants him with her tales of love and sacrifice from Finland to Japan, slowly  nursing his spirit back to health. The story doesn’t end there, though–as the narrator’s morphine addiction increases, Marianne is convinced she has a short time to live and devotes a frantic amount of energy into her carvings. Does the narrator have the strength to care for her, too?

Structure: Each of the chapters were of a hefty size, but they were seperated into much smaller vignettes. The story is told from the unnamed narrator’s perspective, intertwined with Marianne’s stories of their past life or of other doomed lovers around the world; the effect is addictive, as Davidson through Marianne tells the story of their medival past in chunks, always pausing just when the story reaches a crucial revelation.

Execution: This novel would have been remarkable for anyone, but for a debut it’s unbelievably impressive. The first 100 pages are intoxicating; the writing is brillantly witty and fascinating in the objective, but self-depricating, way of describing the more excruciating consequences of the narrator’s burns. When Marianne enters the picture, things become much less sarcastic and slow down, but still the pages nearly fly by as  the story spirals deeper and deeper. Davidson uses myth in an almost primitive way:  as a means of entertainment, yes, but also as an instrument of transformation. And the contrast between Marianne’s unshakable–if eccentric–faith and the narrator’s unfailing cynicism was a beautiful portrait of faith and reason falling in together.

Marianne, I think, is what really made the book sparkle. While the narrator’s transformation was moving, her personality was endearing. She was eccentric, yes, but not in an overly cliched way. In other words, this wasn’t Dharma from Dharma & Greg, or Phoebe from Friends. She was crazy in her own unique way, but sympathetically. Despite the narrator’s rational explanation that she is a manic-depressive schizophrenic, you can’t help but believe her stories and appreciate her devotion. And any writer who can create a character who we know is mentally unstable anad yet cause us to yearn for her purity, her goodness, her brightness of spirit has clearly found his craft.

Theme:  burn victims, medieval Germany, Dante’s Inferno

Read this if  you like unusual romances, or have a fetish for medieval architecture

4 out of 5 stars

Other works:
Hopefully Davidson will get back to work so I can add something here!

If you liked this, you  might also like:
Rana Dasgupta’s Tokyo Cancelled  (for the 1001 Nights aspect)
Sarah Dunant’s Sacred Hearts (f0r the parts that took place in a monastery)
Ali Shaw’s The Girl with the Glass Feet (for the unusual use of mythos)
Glen Duncan’s I, Lucifer (for the heavy-handed church imagery and the unrelenting wit)

A good story of sisters immigrating to America, but lacked any satisfaction in the ending

Genre: fiction, historical

Plot: Pearl and May are two sisters, growing up in the “Paris of Asia” in the 1920s. They are young, rich, and beautiful, enjoying the high life of modern women. That is, of course, until their father bankrupts himself and is forced to marry them to his debtor’s sons, just as the Japanese begin their conquest. Forced to flee to San Francisco, they must learn to make a life with the strangers they have married, facing racial and economical hardships as they mourn for their former lives as “beautiful girls”.

Structure: Each of the chapters had a jaunty title such as “a piece of jade” or “one inch of gold”. They were strictly chronological, though toward the end the space between them lengthened considerably. The narration is from Pearl’s perspective.

Execution: Lisa See reminds me a little bit of what Patrick O’Brien would be if he set his heart on China instead of the British navy. In other words, they are both great on the nitty-gritty details that really count in historical fiction, but in my eyes, weak on the plot.

At first, the novel was very well executed. The plot was surprising, and you really felt emotionally compelled along with Pearl at each turn. What was especially well done—besides the historical accuracy and, as I always harp on, the use of native language-to-English ratio—was the relationship between Pearl and her sister May. This was a complicated one, and just as in the real world, they had ups and downs which were realistically portrayed.

Things got into a bit of a lull toward the middle, where everything seemed to be going just swimmingly for everyone involved. In the final pages, the plot picks up again at an almost frenetic pace as tragedy occurs and family secrets are spilled, sending a disillusioned daughter rushing off to Communist China. Her mother desperately scrapes up the money to follow her, determined to bring her back to the US safely. And…that’s where the story ends.

I felt like screaming. Did she get her back? Were they ever reconciled after the truth came out? But See obviously felt she had reached her goal or deadline or whatever and abruptly brought things to an end. This frustrated me more than I can adequately convey, and in reality soured my opinion of the novel much more than I had thought of it up until that point.

Theme:  Shanghai, San Francisco, Chinatown, Chinese-Americans, Chinese Immigration Exclusion Act, sisterhood

Read this if  you so love Chinese culture you’d read anything, anything about it.

3 out of 5 stars

Other works:
Although I’ve read both Peony in Love and Snow Flower and the Secret Fan I would actually only recommend the latter.

If you liked this, you  might also like:
Ha Jin’s Waiting and A Good Fall
Alan Brennert’s Honolulu
Yoshiko Uchida’s Picture Bride

Full of beauty, mystery, mythos  and loss

Genre: fiction, novel

Plot: I usually make a point to summarize the book myself, but after several furtive attempts I am going to break with tradition on this one. The summary from Publisher’s Weekly is so succinct I doubt I can top it:
“The cold northern islands of St. Hauda’s Land are home to strange creatures and intertwining human secrets in Shaw’s earnest, magic-tinged debut. Ida Maclaird returns to the archipelago to find a cure for the condition her last visit brought her—she is slowly turning into glass. The landscape is at once beautiful and ominous, and its residents mistrustful, but she grows close to Midas Crook, a young man who, despite his intention to spend his life alone, falls in love with Ida and becomes desperate to save her. Their quest leads them to Henry Fuwa, a hermit biologist devoted to preserving the moth-winged bull, a species of insect-sized winged bovines; to Carl Mausen, a friend of Ida’s family whose devotion to her mother makes him both ally and enemy; and finally to Emiliana Stallows, who claims to have once cured a girl with Ida’s affliction. Each of these characters’ histories intertwine, though their motivations surrounding Ida are muddled by their loyalties. Both love story and dirge, Shaw’s novel flows gracefully and is wonderfully dreamlike, with the danger of the islands matched by the characters’ dark pasts.”

Structure: The forty-one chapters are not separated into parts; they flow one after another. The narration follows the characters in the scene, rather than sticking in a strict first-person way to just Midas or Ida.

Execution: I’m struggling to find a way of writing this without degrading into just exuberant gushing; although it certainly deserves it, I’m not sure endless praise would really do this book justice. The most striking thing about this novel was Shaw’s unusual prose; it had a weight to it hard to find in modern literature, almost akin to a Victorian style without the tiresome vocabulary. His analogies were also stunningly original–several times I would pause and re-read the sentence, and even repeat it out loud to hear the beauty of it again.

Another memorable aspect of the book was Shaw’s treatment of the island almost as if it were a character itself. Related to this is the way that inianimate things were described with animate qualities, yet in a remarkable way rather than a cliched one. For example, in the opening of the book Midas is chasing photographs with his camera. The Tor’s shadow creeps across the town and fills the cars. These characterizations were hardly tired or used as an imaginative crutch, but instead delighted the reader with their originality. Speaking of characterization, I must also linger over the extraordinarly well conceived characters. A book like this is vitally dependent on strong characters, and Shaw did not disappoint. Each one we meet is not only deeply burdened and broken in some way, but also connected to Ida.

Finally, I really liked the mysterious aspect of the work, and how ultimately the questions we thought were important went unanswered. Instead of being frustrating, instead it felt…almost invigorating. Like the characters, the reader was searching for answers or clues, hoping that each page the mysteries of the white creature or the glass bodies would be discovered, right up until the end when they did not come. But it didn’t matter; because in the end you discover the book wasn’t about the mysteries of the island at all, but about the mysteries of relationships and their transformative power. In other words, it wasn’t so much why a girl was slowly turning to glass as it was about how the girl with glass feet (literally) awakened Midas’ glass heart (metaphorically).

Theme: glass delusion, fictional island, myth, love/relationships

Read this if you enjoyed The Time Traveler’s Wife; they share a doomed love and a mythic realism I think you will enjoy

4 out of 5 stars

Other works:
This is author Ali Shaw’s debut, but here’s hoping many more follow!

If you liked this you might also like:
The aforementioned Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffennegger
Snow Falling on Cedars by David Guterson
The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield

Twilight, like Sarah Palin and Conan O’Brien, is one of those rare topics in our society today that can sharply divide the masses. But you don’t have to be a twihard to enjoy this book — in fact, many of the contributors make no secret of their disdain. Instead, the book analogizes lofty philosophical, social, and ethical debates into a pop culture medium, thus making them widely accessible to those who are generally intimidated by philosophy. And that’s something just about anyone can be a fan of; what could be more democratic?

Written by people who are more interested in physics than Team Jacob

Genre: nonfiction, anthology, philosophy

Synopsis: Like others in the Blackwell Philosophy and Pop Culture Series, the authors use a common starting point–Twilight–and write on a number of different ethical, philosophical, and social debates or issues. From feminism to vegetarianism, Taoism to Mormonism, the books do a magnificent job of bringing lofty ideas out of their academic cages. Even more impressive, the editors have chosen a wide array of viewpoints, making it an anthology with depth (as opposed to, I kid you not, a book with various pop authors deifying Stephenie Meyer). Warning, though, the editors have a cheesy sense of humor that shows in the index, contributor’s bios, and introduction. 

Structure: The book begins with an introduction (basically answering the question “Why Would Anyone Want to Read This?”), and then breaks up the essays into four sections corresponding with the four titles of the series. Puzzlingly, the essays have little relation to the issues in each of the books–in other words, you’re likely to find spoilers from the fourth book in the third section, etc.–rendering the organizational structure largely ornamental.

Execution: I really enjoyed this. Of course, I like philosophy in general, but I really like it when people make it fun. I liked the variety of topics and viewpoints (some of them even contradicted each other, such as one essay that claimed Bella as a new feminist, and two others that claimed that was the furthest from the truth). I liked that none of the essays were very long, making it easy to pick up and put down.  I even appreciated the fact that not everyone who contributed was a huge fan; it really helped keep it grounded and balanced. No one can call this one more crappy product riding the Twilight chain.

Now some of the essays I liked more than others. Some of my favorites were “Carlisle: More Compassionate than a Speeding Bullet”, “The ‘Real’ Danger: Fact vs. Fiction for the Girl”,  and “For the Strength of Bella? Meyer, Vampires, and Mormonism” (now there’s a connection I hadn’t made before). But others I found inexcusably hostile or somewhat shallow (“Vampire-Dammerung: What Can Twilight Tell Us About God?”, “Space, Time, and Vampire Ontology”).

Also, this may seem like a bit of a minor point, but I really liked that the book was released after the official end of the series. In Battlestar Galactica and Philosophy, that is definitely not the case and it really effects the quality, scope, and even the ultimate relevance of some of the arguments.

Overall, I think that even casual Twilight fans would appreciate this work since it adds an intellectual depth to the immensely popular series that relies mostly on feelings. If you hated Twilight, I’m not sure you will find it quite so entertaining; I sure it would feel like being left out of an inside joke.

Theme: philosophy, ethics, sociology, … do you really not see where I’m going with this?

Read this if you find those hordes of Twilight fangirls/moms a little…lacking in the brain area

4 out of 5 stars

Other works:
There are plenty of titles in the Philosophy/Pop Culture series, just search it on Amazon. I’m sure you’ll be able to find your particular poison (two of my favorites are the aforementioned BSG and Philosophy and House and Philosophy).

If you liked this you might also like:
There are a surprisingly high number of works like this, exploring more academic aspects of Twilight, like Twilight and History, The Twilight Gospel, and Touched by a Vampire.

But let’s not kid ourselves here, I really do like all things geisha. So, swept up in my rekindled interest, I had my library send me several books on the topic, some from far-fetched branches I had to wait for. So here are three of them, reviewed at once for your pleasure. I present then, the Good, the Great, and the Ugly of Geisha Books.

The Good: Geisha: The Life, The Voices, the Art – Photographs by Jodi Cobb
This was a coffee table book, for sure–the size alone confirmed it–but it was also profoundly beautiful and interesting. The book has a lengthy introduction by Ian Buruma which brought up some interesting aspects of geisha life alongside standard information  you can find in just about any reputable source. Cobb, on the other hand, spent a few pages talking about her perception of the geisha world before launching into itnerviews with an aged tokyo geisha, a teahouse owner, and several clients. These were profound stories that had gravitas, and lingered in the mind as one flipped through the rest of the book (pictures, sometimes captioned with a verse from a geisha song). But oh, the pictures. Jodi Cobb is a staff photographer with National Geographic, and it clearly shows. She captures more than jsut the stereotype: the behind-the-scenes moments, the environment, and even the faces of aged geisha in the white makeup which hides none of their wrinkles. I lingered over each photograph, and felt like I had truly entered a dying culture, if just for a few moments.

The Great: Geisha by Liza Dalby
If you’ve studied geisha even to a shallow degree, it’s very likely you’ve heard of Liza Dalby. A shamisen artist in her own right, Dalby also famously became a full-fledged geisha named Ichigiku for a year in 1970s Japan. Half dissertation, half ethnograph, and half memoir (that’s three halves, I know), I found the book to be fascinating. Dalby skillfully weaves in the history of geisha in general and several districts in particular with her own anecdotes and reflections on the life she lived. This was the best aspect of her book: in combining the historical and academic with the personal, she made the book intimate yet authoritative. 

She openly talks about the sad reality that Kyoto geisha are a dying breed: the disciplines and finances required, and the sacrifices that must be made to pursue the art. But she also talks about how geisha are surviving in other areas of Japan, without the condescension of a Kyoto-trained geisha: the “hot springs geisha” of Atami and the “commuter geisha” of Tokyo. She also talks about aspects of life, like kimono, dance, etiquette at parties, etc. All in all it was a wonderfully comprehesive and yet never weighty exploration; no wonder she has been considered the walking dictionary for geisha authors and filmmakers.

The Ugly: The House of 10,000 Pleasures by Sara Harris
I should have known to trust my gut when it came to this one. The title alone set off warning bells in my head, but I pressed on anyway. First of all this “modern” study is over 40 years old, but it still doesn’t excuse the atrocities. Harris clearly has no idea of the distinction between prostitute and geisha that many, like Dalby, have endeavored for years to do away with. That some overlap exists is acknowledged by all, but that it is largely an American misconception is strangely ignored by many. But beyond that, the prose is just awkward. It’s clumsy, bulky, and does not do justice I’m sure to the Japanese spoken in the translated conversations. It’s about as realistic to real geisha as the monstrosity above is. The first part read like a bad Arthur Golden rip-off, and I was so disgusted I didn’t even want to venture into the second half, which was focused on “streetwalkers” anyway. Avoid at all costs!

Many, many thanks to my incredible computer-hero and all-around awesome husband Nicholas for help with the formatting!

I think the question fails to address the different kinds of fanfiction out there.  First there’s the stuff people normally associate with fanfiction (if they even know the term): people taking characters from a show and creating unofficial plots for them.  Like many young teenagers I myself dabbled in it a bit. But quite honestly, I’m pretty indifferent to the stuff over at fanfiction.net. I’m sure some of it is well-crafted and entertaining, but the majority that I’ve seen are either risible or shooting for mediocre. There are plenty of legitimately published authors out there I’d rather spend my time on.

I don’t understand how this can be legal, especially in a society that’s decided numerous times that intellectual property is legal property. It would be like if I took the Muppet characters, created a movie, and did not bother to give Henson Studios not only any consulting/collaboration, but any credit or compensation other than a tagline. I suppose most of the fiction of this kind is drawing off dead authors so they cannot sue them, which is sad, but you’d think their estate would. What really irks me is that so many authors out there with creative ideas that THEY thought of are being rejected left and right, while those who did not do half as much original work are getting paid for publishing these spinoffs.

I’m not against inspiration by any means.  But I am against people doing little to no work and reaping financial gain for it in an industry that is supposed to be about originality.  I guess before you know it, literature will be like music: all about the hooks, and who cares who covers them. I just hope I never live to see the day.

By the way, I will be posting spoilers so read at your own risk!

Not as similar to the first book as the cover would lead one to believe

Genre: young adult, fiction, novel, dystopia

Plot: Like so few of its predecssors, this sequel picks up just a few days after the close of book one.  Katniss has survived the Hunger Games, and miraculously, so has Peeta. But just because they left the arena doesn’t mean their lives are safe yet; the Capitol is furious with Katniss, who is hearing more and more rumors of rebellion and dissent spreading throughout Panem because of her. Still, Katniss is shocked to learn she and Peeta will once again be returning to the Hunger Games as part of a special-edition anniversary year. This time, the Capitol will have their revenge…

Structure: The book was ordered into 3 large parts containing multiple chapters each – One, The Spark; Two, The Quell; and Three, The Enemy. The pacing is a lot rougher in this book than the smooth, seamless chapters of the first book. It felt more stop-and-start, lingering on a few days here and there but suddenly jumping ahead months without warning. That is probably the most disappointing thing about this installment; it’s lacking some of the grace and incredible storytelling that makes a good story great and The Hunger Games in particular phenomenal.

Execution: In addition to the slower, rougher pacing, Catching Fire seemed also to lack the depth of the original. Some argue that we see even more of the history of Panem and take the second book as more of an exploration of the world, but I find this theory unconvincing. What especially irked me was the “skipping over” the various Victory Tour stops, especially in the Capitol where I’m sure the tension would have been remarkable.

I also felt the drama of the second arena to be much lacking. True, the gamemakers had created an interesting place that reminded me very much of LOST, but at the same time, getting the feeling that everyone is on Katniss’ side made it sort of flat. How much more interesting it would have been if Katniss and Peeta really HAD been two-against-the-world. The end, though, was very well put together. Along with Katniss, we are shocked, outraged, confused, and in total disarray by the last sentence, waiting for the third installment to give us some solid footing again.

Theme: dystopia, future, competitions

Read this if you enjoyed the Hunger Games, of course. Why would you bother otherwise?

3 out of 5 stars

Other works:
Suzanne Collins is also the author the 5-part fantasy series The Underland Chronicles, in addition to the two other books in The Hunger Games series (The Hunger Games, Mockingjay).

If you liked this you might also like:
The ones I mentioned in The Hunger Games’ review

Not nearly as fun as it sounds

Genre: young adult, fiction, novel, dystopia

Plot: Every year, 1 boy and 1 girl aged 12-18 from each of the 12 districts of Panem are chosen to be tributes for The Hunger Games, a brutal contest pitting the children against each other in fights to the death until just 1 remains. The Hunger Games are how the powerful Capitol reminds each of its subordinate districts how futile rebellion against its oppressive rule would be.

Katniss Everdeen tries not to think about this too much. She’s too busy hunting illegally to keep herself, her sister Prim, and her mother from starving to death. So when Prim is called as District 12’s female tribute, Katniss knows she will be killed. In a desperate attempt to save her, she volunteers to take her place, beginning her downward spiral into the vicious, bloodthirsty heart of the Capitol.

Structure: The 28 chapters move briskly, from Katniss’ fateful choice at the Reaping to take her sister’s place in the Games, throughout the preparations for the event itself, and all throughout the games. More than any other piece of fiction I’ve ever read, I felt like this really did cover every hellish day of her few weeks involved in the Games, and yet it was done in a way that left me completely entranced, not bored. The end is both satisfying and compelling – enough of a conclusion for a solid first ending, but with plenty of unanswered questions for the sequel.

Execution: In the fantastic tradition of Feed, Suzanne Collins really shows how sophisticated and emotionally complex teen fiction can be. This was an incredible, adrenaline-filled adventure for me, combining a fantastic dystopian setting with a thrilling, suspenseful story. No joke, sometimes I would sit in my car for a few minutes, absolutely riveted and unable to move on until I worked up the courage to put it down for a while. I think what stood out the most to me was how the author created such an intense connection with Katniss by making her the narrator. Her confusion, desperation, and reasoning were really well played, making an already interesting story much more so. Just like Katniss, we’re really not sure what to do with Peeta – is he friend or foe? Is this all an elaborate scheme or are his feelings genuine? Collins keeps you guessing right up to the end.  There’s so many other great aspects to this novel, but I’m afraid I’d just end up sounding a bit repetitive with my effusive praise.

Theme: dystopia, future, competitions, romance

Read this if you’ve never given YA literature a try – this will change your mind about it!

4 out of 5 stars

Other works:
Suzanne Collins is also the author the 5-part fantasy series The Underland Chronicles, in addition to the two other books in The Hunger Games series (Catching Fire, Mockingjay).

If you liked this you might also like:
M. T. Anderson’s  Feed
Bernard Beckett’s Genesis
Anything on one of these YA Dystopia Reading Challenges

But at least I feel bad about abandoning my readers, few though they may be. If I were one of the 4% of people without a conscience–the kind described in today’s review–I wouldn’t give a flip at all.

One of these pairs of eyes would do horrible things to you and never regret it.

 Genre: nonfiction, psychology

Plot: Psychologist Martha Stout begins her chilling book by inviting readers to reflect on what it would be like to have no conscience. To be totally and completely incapable of guilt, remorse, and any personal connection to another human being. This is the world of the sociopath, who contrary to our naive assumptions, is not confined to the locked-up criminals of the world. As many as 4% of the population in the West is sociopathic, and the numbers in non-Western classes are climbing. Dr. Stout gives a broad, multi-faceted inquiry into the neruological, biological, psychological, and even spiritual ramifications of sociopathy, as well as the curious phenomenon the rest of us possess.

Structure: Each of the 12 chapters seems to cover a different aspect of sociopathy. The first and second chapters are mostly an introduction to the discussion surrounding sociopathy today, including a discussion on the history of conscience theory illustrated by some amalgamated examples. Chapters 4 and 5  provide another example of sociopathy in real life  which illustrates how most sociopaths are living among us undetected (with even more stories of this in chapters 6 and 7), though chapter 8 remedies this by giving a practical list of how-to recognize and deal with “the remorseless.” Chapter 9 focuses on the scientific aspects of sociopathy, and the opposite side of the coin, conscience: the hows and whys of these brain patterns are surveyed here. Chapter 10 takes an interesting detour from the rest of the book and illustrates how, even though some people may think it’s freeing to live without conscience, it’s actually quite miserable, as chapter 11 demonstrates with yet another example. Finally, chapter 12 tries to take a pan-religious survey on conscience and ends with a quasi-unitarian “we’re all human” call for warm fuzzies.

Execution: Martha Stout is one of those really talented scientists who is great at communicating to lay men, and this ability to deconstruct lofty scientific principles and theories down to a level understandable by most adults without being condescending is what makes her book so readable and interesting. I’m sure there are several journal articles out there about aspects spoken of in this book, but how many would actually engage the non-professional?

That being said, the book was a little sloppy though not in a way that was a hindrance. Rather, it’s more of an after-the-fact observation that the book could have been a little tighter and neater in its organization. The more serious offense to me was the universalist buffet of religiousity that comprised the final chapter. Although I applaud Stout for bringing this oft-neglected aspect into her scientific work, I disapproved heartily of how she lumped–rather simplistically and unfairly to all religions involved–everyone’s “golden rule” saying together. In fact, Jesus’ utterance “do unto others as you would have them do unto you” radically differs from similar but negated phrases like “do not do to others what you do not want them to do to you” because Jesus is arguing for a positive, active duty of doing good rather than passively avoiding harming others.

I did enjoy the read; it was interesting, stimulating, and quite frankly scary. The last chapter was a bit of a sour note, but overall it was an enjoyable experience.

Theme: pscyhology

Read this if you’re like me (when I first picked it up) and thought “sociopath? Is that like a psychopath?”

4 out of 5 stars

Other works:
The Myth of Sanity

If you liked this you might also like:
Your Brain on Music -Daniel Levitin
How We Decide – Jonah Lehrer
The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks – Rebecca Skloot