Insumisas

a film by Laura Cazador and Fernando Pérez

A powerful historical drama based on life of Enriqueta Favez, aka Enrique Faber. Starring Sylvie Testud as Dr. Faber and Yeny Soria as Juana de Léon.

The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat

by Oliver Sacks

After re-reading, earlier this year, Sacks’ brilliant Musicophilia, I finally got to this book. Considered by now a classic (at least, the 2015 paperback edition appears in “Picador Classic” series, so it must be one), it’s a fabulous read. Although the book was first published not that long ago, in 1985, I find the language noticeably dated, while the words such as defective, hysteria, idiot, moron, retardate, retarded, simple, with or without quotation marks, just make me cringe.

Like Musicophilia, The Man Who... is a collection of case studies which are more like short stories that could be enjoyed in any order. For me, A Passage to India is the most poignant and most beautiful chapter in the book.

The Twins deals with two autistic savants who spend their days playing a strange game of exchanging six-digit numbers.

I already had a hunch — and now I confirmed it. All the numbers, the six-figure numbers, which the twins had exchanged were primes — i.e., numbers that could be evenly divided by no other whole number than itself or one. Had they somehow seen or possessed such a book as mine — or were they, in some unimaginable way, themselves ‘seeing’ primes, in somewhat the same way as they had ‘seen’ 111-ness, or triple 37-ness? Certainly they could not be calculating them — they could calculate nothing.

I returned to the ward the next day, carrying the precious book of primes with me. I again found them closeted in their numerical communion, but this time, without saying anything, I quietly joined them. They were taken aback at first, but when I made no interruption, they resumed their ‘game’ of six-figure primes. After a few minutes I decided to join in, and ventured a number, an eight-figure prime. They both turned towards me, then suddenly became still, with a look of intense concentration and perhaps wonder on their faces. There was a long pause — the longest I had ever known them to make, it must have lasted a half-minute or more — and then suddenly, simultaneously, they both broke into smiles.

They had, after some unimaginable internal process of testing, suddenly seen my own eight-digit number as a prime — and this was manifestly a great joy, a double joy, to them; first because I had introduced a delightful new plaything, a prime of an order they had never previously encountered; and, secondly, because it was evident that I had seen what they were doing, that I liked it, that I admired it, and that I could join in myself.

They drew apart slightly, making room for me, a new number playmate, a third in their world. Then John, who always took the lead, thought for a very long time — it must have been at least five minutes, though I dared not move, and scarcely breathed — and brought out a nine-figure number; and after a similar time his twin, Michael, responded with a similar one. And then I, in my turn, after a surreptitious look in my book, added my own rather dishonest contribution, a ten-figure prime I found in my book.

The Wisdom of Whores

by Elizabeth Pisani

When people ask me what I do for a living, I say, ‘Sex and drugs.’ I used to say I was an epidemiologist, which is also true. But most people looked blank. Epi— what? Perhaps something vaguely distasteful to do with skin.

That’s how The Wisdom of Whores: Bureaucrats, Brothels and the Business of AIDS begins. And it gets better. (For more quotes, go to my other blog.) Be open-minded: to appreciate Ms Pisani’s style, you don’t have to agree with everything she writes. (I, for one, don’t share her enthusiasm for penile circumcision as an AIDS prevention strategy.)

She also has a blog of the same name, with a lot of fascinating, er, bits and bobs. I fished out the photo of this gorgeous dress as it was mentioned in the book on page 259.

Musicophilia

by Oliver Sacks

This is the first book by Oliver Sacks I ever read, and it took me just under six months to finish it. By some reason, the reading pattern was: after one or two chapters, I would take a break — the longest one was over a month. Some chapters seemed to drag on and on, but it got better closer to the end of the book (‘it’ being either the book or my attention). The penultimate chapter, A Hypermusical Species: Williams Syndrome, reads like a good science fiction story: the author visits a summer camp which well may have been on another planet...

by Carl Djerassi

I first heard about NO the novel in December 2000, during the Biochemical Society meeting in Brighton, from Dennis Stuehr, one of several real experts on biochemistry of nitric oxide mentioned in this book by Carl Djerassi. However, it was not until last year that, after Djerassi’s brilliant lecture here in Hinxton, I bought and read it.

Nitric oxide (NO) has multiple physiological effects, but it is its importance for penile erection that made this simple compound the title of the book. Otherwise, the story is not about NO but about scientists who happen to be involved in development of Viagra-like drug. Carl Djerassi defines the genre as ‘science-in-fiction’. I do not have any problems with the science of the book but I do have a serious problem with the ‘fiction’ component. I did not love or hate or otherwise connect with any of the characters in the novel. They are not believable. Why on earth two women scientists, Renu Krishnan and Melanie Laidlaw, feel an urge to convert into Judaism? Renu’s letters to her ‘dearest’ brother in India read like Financial Times articles or something. To sum up: a fascinating read, touching upon many interesting topics, but, with all due respect, I wouldn’t call it great literature.