Books: Complicity
OK, I’ll readily admit that I have been horrendously AWOL lately. I’m sorry. Life has been very busy, in good and bad ways. Good: one of my school friends is getting married in a month’s time. Bad: I have no money. Good: I got engaged. Bad: I’m struggling to see where I’m headed. And so forth.
But, in amongst all this, I’ve been reading. And I felt the urge to revisit a book I’ve read before, namely “Complicity” by Iain Banks. I don’t know what compelled me to pick it up again, but needless to say I couldn’t find my copy. Dagnabbit. So I bought it on my Kindle (you know, with the money I don’t have).
Anyway. I’ve mentioned Complicity before (back when I briefly reviewed The Bridge a couple of years ago) but I’ve never reviewed it before. I say “reviewed”: I mean rambled incoherently whilst giving across my sheer love of this book.
OK, it’s not a lovely book. I’ll be blunt: it’s the most vile and vicious book I’ve read. Ever. Those of you who have been exposed to Banks before have most likely read The Wasp Factory, and thought that was pretty heavy. Well, Banks himself said in interview that Complicity is ”[a] bit like The Wasp Factory except without the happy ending and redeeming air of cheerfulness”. So, try and think positive.
Complicity is based mainly in and around Edinburgh (a plus for me, already), following the strange and brutal murders of a series of capitalist, right-wing figures. But it’s not just as simple as all that, is it? No, the murders are ingenious, the murderer has the whole thing thoroughly planned out, and the reader is rapidly pulled into the depths of confusion and despair along with our narrator.
The majority of the plot of Complicity revolves around the life of Cameron Colley, a disillusioned left-wing journalist, who is a bit down on life. He is strangely lovable – I say strangely, because he is a bit sad, lonely, has many casual drug habits, has regular sex with a married woman, etc. One might say he is “a good man with bad habits”. My other half once described himself like this, so maybe that’s another reason I find Cameron strangely lovable.
The sections of plot involving Cameron are written in first person – some people call this the “unreliable narrator”, and yes, he probably is a bit, because he does ramble on. But it gives the reader a real sense of being WITH the action, in the thick of it. We feel his boredom, we sense his excitement, and finally, when he is arrested, falsely accused of the murders of those right-wing figures I mentioned, we sense his desperation, and we slip into the confusion and paranoia that interrogation and sleep deprivation brings.
There are a lot of moral questions in this book: questions about crime and punishment, war (huh, what is it good for), and the darker side of human nature. And of course, where do our loyalties lie? Would YOU be complicit?
The descriptions of the murders themselves are brutal and very uncomfortable to read in a public place. But to make matters worse (and even more effective) these sections of the novel are written in second person – yes, YOU, ”You hear the first faint distant screams just as you take the bike’s key from your pocket. You feel suddenly elated”. Shudder.
Like with all crime thrillers, I can’t divulge too much plot without spoiling the experience for you. But needless to say, this remains one of my favourite books of all time (so far). Even if I have to read some of it through my fingers. Seriously. It’s gruesome.
Oh, and a humorous tit-bit: Cameron is heavily into computer games, particularly a fictitious game called “Despot” which is curiously similar to Civilisation (which my dad used to play). Cameron loses many hours due to playing this game. In fact, he’s often playing the game when he should be writing. And you know what? So was Iain Banks. Happy sigh. Art mirrors life mirrors art.
READ IT.
Oxford University Press
I feel very proud to be able to say that my friend Becky works here as an editor. Incredibly cool.
Oxford is intensely pretty, by the way. Making my way back to the Big Smoke now – ugh.
Books: Cooking For Geeks
I got this bad boy as a belated Christmas present from my big brother (see here why it was late), but I can confidently proclaim: it was well worth the wait.
This weighty tome from Jeff Potter looks like a text book, but dear lord, if all my text books were this readable, I would have read them all cover to cover by now.
Cooking For Geeks is made up of some science, some “hacks”, some interviews, and tonnes of little nuggets of fascinating facts.
Maybe you’ll love it for the recipes (whilst I haven’t yet tried any, they all sound amazing). Maybe you’ll love it for the miracle berries, or many of the other weird and wonderful additives (which sound AMAZING and I must experiment). Maybe you’ll love it for the stupidly dangerous over-clocked oven (pizza cooked in 45 seconds, anyone?).
If you’re me, you’ll surprise yourself by finding the section on pathogens the most interesting.
The only annoying thing is probably the fact that this book is written by an American, for Americans. Broiling? Seriously? It’s a grill. Also, the references to the FSA make you wonder about our own, British food standards. Must…do further research…
But the problems presented by that fact are minimal. Far too small a problem to detract from the pure joy that is getting immersed into the strange and wonderful world of geeky cooking. Yay!
There is also a Cooking For Geeks website to accompany the book. Double win.
Books: Bad Science
You might have come across Ben Goldacre before – via his column in the Guardian, or via his Twitter-based angry ramblings. So you’ll know that this guy suffers no fools.
Doctor, journalist, science cheerleader – Ben Goldacre is perfectly positioned to expose malpractice in the world of science and medicine. And how well he does it.
Bad Science is, at its heart, a light-hearted non-fiction read. It made me laugh a lot (Brain Gym? Really?) but, I have to be honest, it made me a bit depressed. Although it made me feel smug and self-righteous (yes, detox and homeopathy are bunk! And here’s why…), it also made me despair – particularly the new chapter (unpublishable in the first edition, as Goldacre was going through a court case at the time) about Matthius Rath and AIDS in South Africa. You might think Big Pharma is evil. It is, but you ain’t seen nothing yet…
Goldacre doesn’t just make sweeping claims – he supports his views with example after example of evidence. With a comprehensive reference list and suggested further reading at the end of the book, Goldacre has nothing to hide. But it’s hard to feel empowered when he admits that the quacks have won, and things will always be this way – Bad Science is entrenched.
A thoroughly recommended read: very accessible, enlightening, funny, and realistic.
Books: Unseen Academicals
Terry Pratchett is back on form. This is the best book he’s written in a long while, no argument. This is back to the hard-as-nails, philosophical, quick-firing Discworld that we all originally fell in love with.
And there is football.
Wait. What? I hate football.
But don’t fret – it’s not all about football. In fact, football is just a vehicle for the moral story (as it should be). I can’t reveal to you too much, but if I liked it, it can’t be that football heavy, right?
The wizards are back (and it’s lovely to see them again) – even Rincewind makes an appearance, which is good fun, but I’m glad he was just background colour, as I feel his days in the limelight are over (and I think he thinks so too). The Watch are everpresent, but again, this is not their Moment.
In fact, the main characters are new: the working class! Hurrah. They have names and personalities, now. And one of those is the delightful Mister Nutt, a goblin with a mysterious past…
OK, enough teasing. Go read it.
I Want Never Gets: Black Fayence Bookcase
I really want some proper bookcases.
Nuff said.
£1250. Whaaa 
Films: Tangled
HAH. Weren’t expecting that one, were you? Well, think again. I’m not all angst and darkness. No, contrary to popular belief, I love Disney films. Well, some of them, at any rate.
And Tangled is definitely one of those that I love. I was beginning to get a bit jaded as far as “modern” Disney was concerned, but Rapunzel, her “magic hair that glows when she sings”, the charming Flynn Rider (who, trust me, has more depth than he originally lets on), the brave horse Maximus and the BRILLIANT chameleon Pascal, have most certainly won me over.
OK, OK, this is a pretty saccharine twist on the original Brothers Grimm incarnation, but then, that is the fate of the fairy tale in the modern age – it must be sweet and light (with some mild peril), and of course, it must be moral.
And I’m happy to say, Tangled ticks all the boxes. The goodies are good, the baddies are bad, there are reformed criminals and heroic animals. Someone is called Eugene (a name that has sadly been too long forgotten). There are a lot of very well written songs (yes, it’s semi-musical) including the fantaaaaastic “Mother Knows Best” (brilliant, as I was at the cinema with my mum). I’m still confused as to why Rapunzel had no shoes, but I’m willing to overlook that. It is all beautifully animated (works well in 3D!) and the script is very sweet.
Oh, and there is lots of hair. That’s a given.
Cheers for more reminders that long hair is, in fact, awesome.
Books: Phantoms in the Brain
Phantoms in the Brain: Human Nature and the Architecture of the Mind
Wow. I honestly don’t want to say too much, because I really think you should go and read this book yourself. All of the reader reviews are right: it’s fascinating, it’s educational and most importantly, it is very very readable.
I’ve seen Ramachandran talk live (at the Royal Institution) and the enthusiasm and showmanship that he presented then really comes through in this book.
I actually got two copies for Christmas – one from Ben and one from my dad. Confusion over Amazon wishlists – Ben obviously doesn’t know how to use them! Bless him. So rather than send the book back, we gave one copy right back to my dad (as he is all about consciousness, phenomenology, and the mystery of the mind).
Now, it took me three weeks to read this. It took my dad one flight back to Dubai. He reads insanely fast! But he says he couldn’t put it down. He’s a very brain-modular sort of person, and his favourite chapters were towards the end, when Ramachandran discusses qualia, and the source and purpose of consciousness.
Personally, I’m all about the earlier chapters, when Ramachandran looks at a variety of different neurological phenomena. He presents us with a variety of case studies, each with very particular forms of brain damage, leading to very unusual problems. There are his famous “phantom limb” patients – people who, following an amputation, can still feel sensation in their absent limb. Later, he returns to the subject of phantoms, by discussing the mindboggling (but increasingly rare) phenomenon of pseudocyesis, or false pregnancy.
But I don’t want to discuss this book at length – I feel it would detract from your own experience when reading it.
If you like Oliver Sacks, you will love this. If you like “unusualness” and maybe even mystery stories, this is for you. Go get it. There are even some optical illusions you can play with (just don’t do them on the train – you’ll look like an idiot).
Don’t fancy reading? Ramachandran has also presented his cases in a two-part BBC4 documentary.
Art Outdoors: Streatham Hill
Here’s one that I’ve been meaning to take a photo of for ages, but unfortunately it’s awkwardly positioned for a really good shot, especially with that “To Let” sign right in the way. But anyway, up Leigham Court Road, just across from Streaham Hill station, there is this great mural of Max and a monster from the classic children’s picture book, Where The Wild Things Are.
I’ll try and take a better photo if that sign ever comes down.
Mental Floss #1
Ever feel like there is just too damn much going on, and your head feels like it’ll pop? I get it every now and then. I’ll be going along just fine, making plans, keeping busy, meeting people, doing things – LOTS of things – and then suddenly, out of the blue, I’ll feel the overwhelming sense of dread, that I Can’t Cope.
At the moment, I’m blaming the exams that I’m currently sitting. Yesterday was the first, and a lot better than I was expecting (on Monday night, I was – for some reason – convinced that all the questions were going to be on topics I hadn’t revised. This nearly led to meltdown) but I still have two more to go, and they will be harder.
I am slowly learning how to deal with mental meltdown, but it is certainly an ongoing thing. I think the best thing you can do when faced with the overwhelming threat of failure/embarrassment/painful reality is to take some time out, to step back and get some perspective, and most importantly, do something that reminds you how to have fun. This is what I like to call my Mental Floss (oh, aren’t I witty?).
You see, this is where my New Year’s Resolution #7 comes in – to forgive myself. You know what? You don’t need to be doing something practical and productive 24/7. It is OK to take some “you time” to muck about for the sheer hell of it.
From now on, when I feel the pressure mounting up, I’ll be on here, drafting a Mental Floss post: I’ll be naming 5 different things that are keeping me grounded at the moment: some ways that I’m keeping my mental health in good shape.
So, without further delay:
1) My Wii. As a New Year’s gift to myself, I finally got a Wii, and Wii Fit Plus to go with it. Yes, that is my Body Test result for yesterday, and yes, I do currently weigh in at a mighty 12 stone. I don’t regret it – the festive binge felt amazing, and I do love food. However, I am well aware that I am not in the healthiest of places right now, and as a long-time supporter of the British Heart Foundation, this is not good and it’s not right. Before you start: yes I KNOW Wii Fit doesn’t really come close to proper exercise, but the yoga and muscle exercises I find really focussing and relaxing. And that’s why it’s Mental Floss.
2) Talking of supporting charities, I can’t wait to get back to SANE on Thursday – I haven’t been in to volunteer for a couple of weeks now (due to holiday), and I’ve really missed it. They do wonderful work, and it’s really life-affirming to know that I’m a part of it. That’s there brand new website, by the way – went live only yesterday.
3) My dear, dear books. Whilst I haven’t yet finished reading my first book of 2011, I’ve been reading bits and pieces where and when I can. Obviously, my priority reading is revision for exams, but it’s nice to escape with a non-curriculum book once in a while…
4) The Oatmeal. Discovered this the other day, and it has been making me chuckle heartily. Very similar to Hyperbole and a Half (in terms of whimsical drawing style vs. cynical text), which certainly tickles my funny bone.
5) Staying indoors. It may be no surprise to you (or maybe it is?) that I’m a bit sociophobic. I love to leave the house when it means going for a walk in the countryside, but when it means enduring the bustle of thousands of London strangers, most days I’d just rather not. And at the moment, I have no reason (aside from exams) to leave the house. That is just dandy by me. I know it’s unhealthy in the long term, but for a few days, I think it’s fine to keep your own company.
TV: Horrible Histories
Any of my friendly Twitter followers *waves at you lot jovially* will have maybe seen me blurting out seemingly random lines recently, such as “I’m a fire stopper!”. Please do not be alarmed: I do know the words to The Prodigy’s hit single, so this is not some nerdy cock-up. This is another form of special nerdiness, which is in touch with my childhood in a beautiful way.
Oh yes, I LOVED the Horrible Histories books, and so I was filled with glee when the chaps over at the BBC made a children’s TV series based on Terry Deary’s genius combination of facts and fun. Whilst it’s a little sad that kids are being encouraged back towards the box and away from the books, it’s great that we’re sneaking education into their entertainment, once again. And it’s not just for kids, either – even Ben’s mum (who joined us in watching some HH over Christmas) was amazed to learn how much the Victorians invented.
Arguably, the best thing about HH is its fantastic songs. Oh yes yes yes. Catchy tunes have been forcing facts into our heads for many years, and HH songs are top notch. Some of the favourites in our household include “doing the Pachacuti”, the 4 Georges “Born 2 Rule” and of course….
Oh dear god, hunt it down and you’ll be hooked, I promise. And, just because I love you, here are the lyrics to help you along.
CHARLES II: KING OF BLING
My name is, my name is, my name is – Charles the second!
I love people and the people love me
So much that they restored the English monarchy
I’m part Scottish-French-Italian, a little bit Dane
But one hundred per cent party animal!
Champagne?
Spaniels I adored, named after me too
Like me they were fun with a natty hair-do.
Is today my birthday? I can’t recall
Let’s have a party anyway, because I love a masked ball
All hail – the King – of Bling – let’s sing – bells ring – ding-ding
I’m the King who brought back partying!
King Charles my daddy lost his throne and kings were banned
They chopped off his head, then Olly Cromwell ruled the land
Old Olly wasn’t jolly, he was glum and he was proud
Would be miserable as sin only ‘sinning’s not allowed’
When Cromwell died the people said ‘Charlie me hearty
‘Get rid of his dull laws, come back, we’d rather party.’
This action’s what they called the Monarchy Restoration
Which naturally was followed by a huge celebration
The King – of Eng-land say – no sin – to sing – or anything.
All say I’m the King who brought back partying
Great London Fire was a whopper
In my reign London city came a cropper
So this King did what was right and proper
Fought the fire, proved I’m more than a bopper
I’m a fire-stopper!
Married Catherine Braganza, she was a love so true
There would never be another, well maybe one or two
Lucy Walter, Nell Gwynn, Moll Davis, Barbara Villiers
You think that’s bad but her name’s not as silly as:
Hortense Manzini
As king I must admit I broke the wedding rules
But who cares when I brought back the crown jewels?
I reinstated Christmas, make-up, sport and even plays
I was the Merry Monarch they were Good Old Days
When said – and done – King Charles – did run – England – for fun
I was the King! Loved by everyone. My song is done.
Party anyone?
Lyrics written by Dave Cohen and music by Richie Webb
Books: How to Keep a Pet Squirrel
I got this little gem from Ben’s sister for Christmas – once upon a time, I expressed a wish to have a pet squirrel (they are ADORABLE) and she has remembered that ever since. So here was my first step!
From one of the brains behind the beautiful The Gruffalo (book is brilliant, the short film is lovely), here is a short book about squirrels. Whilst it is not advised to actually attempt to keep a squirrel as a pet (have rats instead), this little number is worth having a read for its wonderful illustrations alone.
Apparently based on a 1910 children’s encyclopaedia entry, this book advises plenty of nuts, and a large cage preferably with a trapeze. It’s charming and entertaining, and 10p from each book sale goes Save Our Squirrels!*
There’s not much else to say without spoiling the story, and I can’t exactly show you illustrations, so instead, here are some photos of me, feeding squirrels in Battersea Park.
*It’s great that they’re donating, but as the book costs £9.99 RRP, you would have hoped the publishers could have been a bit more generous…
Books: The 2010 Round-up
Well, at the start of 2010, I resolved to read more. And I think I’ve done pretty damn well. Here, as we stand at the edge of the abyss, and the last dregs of 2010 filter away, I can happily say that I have read quite a few books this year.
It’s been tricky, too: throwing myself into a scientific discipline at the last minute (shut up, physicists: psychology so is a science. It has ology and everything) meant that I faced a lot of academic reading, in the form of text books and journal articles. But in between all of that, I have managed a grand total of 39 books this year – 23 non-fiction, and 16 fiction (where I’ve listed text books, that’s where I have actually read them, cover to cover). And this is what they were:
- 30.01.10 – Nicky Hayes – A First Course in Psychology (nf)
- 09.02.10 – Matt Ridley – Nature Via Nurture (nf)
- 01.03.10 – James Hogg – The Three Perils of Man (f)
- 07.03.10 – Adam Phillips – Monogamy (nf)
- 22.03.10 – John Marzillier & John Hall – What is clinical psychology? (nf)
- 24.03.10 – Aldous Huxley – Brave New World (f)
- 30.03.10 – Terry Pratchett – Nation (f)
- 22.04.10 – Walter J. Freeman – How Brains Make Up Their Minds (nf)
- 15.05.10 – G. K. Chesterton – Father Brown Stories (f)
- 19.05.10 – Russell L. Ackoff, Herbert J. Addison & Sally Bibb – Management f-Laws (nf)
- 20.05.10 – Lewis Carroll – Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (f)
- 26.05.10 – Siri Hustvedt – The Shaking Woman or A History Of My Nerves (nf)
- 29.05.10 – Terry Pratchett – Thud! (f)
- 02.06.10 – Oliver Sacks – The Man Who Mistook His Wife For A Hat (nf)
- 23.06.10 – Wilkie Collins – The Woman in White (f)
- 29.06.10 – Joseph Conrad – Heart Of Darkness (f)
- 02.07.10 – David Hume – On Suicide (nf)
- 05.07.10 – *Iain Banks – Complicity (f)
- 22.07.10 – Jonathan Weiner – Time, Love, Memory (nf)
- 26.07.10 – Christopher Fowler – Spanky (f)
- 14.08.10 – Robert Winston – Human Instinct (nf)
- 22.08.10 – Iain M. Banks – Consider Phlebas (f)
- 28.08.10 – American Psychological Association – Concise Rules of APA Style (nf)
- 08.09.10 – Andy Field & Graham Hole – How to Design and Report Experiments (nf)
- 13.09.10 – Nick Braisby (ed.) – Cognitive Psychology: A Methods Companion (nf)
- 20.09.10 – Ken Kesey – One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest (f)
- 07.10.10 – Steven Pinker – The Language Instinct (nf)
- 12.10.10 – *Paul Broks – Into The Silent Land (nf)
- 21.10.10 – Daniel Levitin – This Is Your Brain On Music (nf)
- 31.10.10 – Oliver Sacks – Musicophilia (nf)
- 07.11.10 – The Poetry and Short Stories of Dorothy Parker (f)
- 10.11.10 – Alain de Botton – Status Anxiety (nf)
- 11.11.10 – Richard Bach – Jonathan Livingstone Seagull (f)
- 14.11.10 – Richard P. Feynman – The Meaning of it All (nf)
- 29.11.10 – *Andrew Solomon – The Noonday Demon (nf)
- 04.12.10 – Iain Banks – The Bridge (f)
- 26.12.10 – Axel Scheffler – How to Keep a Pet Squirrel (f)
- 27.12.10 – Dr Liz Miller – Mood Mapping (nf)
- 29.12.10 – Michael S. Gazzaniga – Nature’s Mind (nf)
And I’ve just started the first one for 2011. How about you? Did you chomp through some good reads this year? Which were your favourites? I’ve put an asterisk by my three absolute favourites this year, and massively recommend them.
The Christmas haul, part 1
Yesterday’s post was a bit ranty, eh? So I’ll go back to what I promised, and ease you out of the rest of 2010 all gentle, like. By sharing some pictures of the Christmas presents I received! Friends and family alike have all been heartwarmingly generous this year, and I hope they all liked what I got for them. Of course, the best gift of all was being able to spend time with so many wonderful people (and eat until I felt sick – the rumours were true, Ben’s sister DOES cook an amazing roast!!). However, you can’t photograph the spirit of togetherness. So here are my material goods:
Lovely new red satin bedsheets are from my brother and his new wifey (Alec&Katie), whilst the St Andrew’s cushions are from my uncle and aunty. Mr Foxy was a little gift to myself – he has a heaty wheaty tummy 
Not one set of headphones, but TWO! Ben made my music-related dreams come true, by buying me these lovely over-ear Skullcandy headphons (HESH in hot pink, and red Lowriders). I’m happy to report that they are awesome.
A squeaky clean and sleepy-looking Ben, standing in the kitchen doorway which has been adorned with all our Christmas cards. He’s also holding one of the four mugs we received this year – quite an achievement! However, I drink a LOT of tea, so this is no bad thing. We got two union jack mugs from my parents, an awesome Ford Capri mug from Alec&Katie, and…
Pac-Man mug!! From my friends Sas and Matt. This is brilliant – it’s plain black when it’s cold, but poor hot water into it and PAC-MAN APPEARS!! Also featured is the adorable sugar shaker Sas and Matt got for us. Oh, and both are sitting on top of the new chopping board Beth got for us Sas and Matt also got me some cute little cupcake-shaped lip balms.
I love love love Marmite. So I was tickled pink when I opened this gift from my mum. There seems to be a lot of Marmite merchandise around at the moment, but a lot of it is frankly quite naff. However, this serving dish (and ceramic spoon) is charming. Not suitable for actually cooking in, and I don’t exactly host dinner parties (no dining room, you see), so in a moment of drunken genius, I decanted my home-made dry porridge mix into it (and spilled a lot of oats all over the kitchen in the process). My parents also got me a bar of “Very Peculiar”, the marmite flavoured chocolate, but that is long gone: it is indeed very peculiar, but also strangely delicious.
And I think that’s about enough for one day! I have so much more to show you, but that can wait for another day.
What about you chaps? What were your favourite Christmas gifts?
Books: Mood Mapping
Mood Mapping: Plot your way to emotional health and happiness
I should probably start by saying I did not like this book. In fact, there are no significant redeeming features, in my honest opinion. So, if you have read this book, use this book or like this book for whatever reason, then please give this review a miss. Because I didn’t like it, this review will mainly concentrate on WHY I didn’t like it. These opinions, being opinions, are not debatable.
Where to start? Probably at the beginning, is best. When this book was first released, I read an interesting review of it in the Guardian. So, when I saw this book in my local BHF book shop, I thought “what the hell” and thought I’d give it a go. I have never read a self-help style book in my life, and now I know why.
Dr Liz Miller is an ex-neurosurgeon, and so you would expect her to be a sensible woman of science. She’s not: she is full of absolute crap. I was willing to sit through her sad stories of struggling through her breakdowns (she says in the text that she is bipolar, but she doesn’t specify what type. I suspect cyclothymia), and to start with, her advice is pretty sound. However, it is also common sense: keep a mood diary so that you can try and see patterns in mood vs. time of day, events, foods, etc.
Anything that didn’t fall under this header of “common sense advice” was not useful at all, and in fact made me rather angry. One of my common gripes is preachy, self-righteous types: Miller is one of these. Her favourite thing to preach about, it would seem, is food. I knew this would be a problem from the Introduction, where she gently declares a war on meat, alcohol, and processed food. Later in the book, she all but blames mood disorders solely on what we eat.
Let me get one thing straight: PROCESSED FOOD WILL NOT MAKE YOU DROP DEAD. You do not need to be on a “raw food diet” to be happy. Let’s look at the evidence: you know plenty of people who eat microwave meals, take aways and stuff from tins on an almost daily basis, and yet they are functioning perfectly. And then there is “Doctor” Gillian McKeith. I’m sure you’ve all been forwarded a copy of the McKeith vs. Nigella email (they’re both 50, and yet…) She doesn’t look like a happy bunny. She looks fucking miserable.
Fair enough, we’re all sensitive to different foods in different ways – I’m not all that susceptible to caffeine, but I am more careful about alcohol nowadays. And I think that’s the key: you do NOT have to give up everything fun or delicious to live well. You need to know your own body. And that’s where Mood Mapping MIGHT be useful: just for finding patterns in your mood in response to external stimuli. But you do NOT NEED TO BUY THIS BOOK (RRP: £12.99) to be able to do that. Food is not the root to aaaaaall your problems.
On a housekeeping note: Miller needs to get hold of a better proofreader. Even my casual, half-attentive reading of this book (often accompanied by a background of Christmas TV and the sound of family members reading articles from the newspaper outloud) spotted a whole menagerie of errors. Most hilarious IMHO was pp. 237-8, and the supposed “Causes of bipolar”…
“…Bipolar disorder can also start after head injury, treatment with anti-malarial drugs, particularly mefloquinine, head injury, childhood abuse, drug abuse…”
And later on in this ridiculous list of madness and repetition: post-traumatic stress disorder. WHAT?! PTSD is a mental illness in its own right, not a “cause” of bipolar. I think she’s getting confused: violent mood swings are not the only characteristic feature of bipolar. They are a symptom. And guess what? They just so happen to be quite a significant symptom of PTSD, too. Just because someone is having severe mood swings does not mean they have suddenly “come down with” bipolar disorder.
I’m trying to keep this short, so here’s the last and most important reason why I hate this book:
“…what my research and experience did prove is that mood and its associated chemicals respond more to the five keys to mood than they do to drugs. By physically managing your mood, it is often possible to dispense with drugs entirely.” (p. 233)
My, that’s a sweeping statement. And, “prove”? Really? Please, tell this to anyone suffering from psychosis, or chronic, major depression. Some people simply cannot function without medication. Some people can’t even cope WITH medication, it’s that bad. MY research and experience INDICATES this. Read a far better and more realistic account of mood disorder.
By all means, I am not poo-pooing Miller’s personal trauma and experience of the mental health system, but that is what it is: a personal trauma. She found something that works for her. Good. She has no right to prescribe it to others.
Things are better miniature
My friend Rebecca commented the other day that I should be Japanese. Apparently the thought was prompted by my colourful bags and my cat-ear hat. But you know, I do sort of a agree with her. If it has a face on it, is miniature or is “kawaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiii” (cute) then I want it. If it’s colourful and involves animals with OTT facial expressions, more’s the better.
So how can I link this in with Christmas? Well, with my dinky Christmas tree, of course. I live in a one-bed flat: there is no chance in hell that I will compromise space with a wopping great tree. But that’s fine, because I prefer a dinky tree anyway. And what is more amazing? My friend Beth knitted me a TINY TINY Christmas stocking, which adorns the blighter perfectly!!
Yep, tree in a teacup. Photo also features tree-candle from Belgium, and money-box cat, made Christmas-friendly.
So what about you? How are your Christmas decorations shaping up?
100!
I made it. This is officially my 100th blog post. I have managed to blog every day since mid-September, and nearly all my posts have been useful or interesting (yes? No?)
This has come at a perfect time as well, because today I need to concentrate all my efforts on finishing a lab report that I have barely started – so I thought today’s post could be a good excuse to do a bit of a round up of the last few months. And share some pretty pictures, yay!
Well, on the topic of my lab report: the most obvious milestone for me in the last few months has been starting my Psychology MSc. Since then, it has been non-stop – most of it fun, a lot of it stressful but all of it fascinating.
Unfortunately, starting my MSc has meant that I’ve had to leave some things behind, such as my beloved Horniman museum, but I still get a chance to go back and visit. And of course, there are little reminders of the Horniman all around me…
I haven’t lost all my fun though: I still sing quite frequently, and even got a couple of double bass concerts in this season (although one had to be cancelled last week due to snow). I managed to go clubbing once or twice, did a lot of cooking and baking, and had several wonderful meals out (including finally trying out Time&Space for Ben’s birthday).
I have to interrupt myself briefly, just to say that doing this round up is making me realise that I have actually been quite busy over the last few months, which is reassuring and also quite emotional. Ignore me.
I have been to visit friends, I have had friends come to stay with me, I have been to soooo many extra-curricular lectures, and had wonderful cultural days out. I even had a silly day out sledding with Ben when the snow hit.
In amongst all the shenannagins of having my brain scanned but not zapped, all the cocktails and the pottery painting, and even my first trek to IKEA via public transport, I have still managed to sit back and relax.
I have read a huge amount (by my usual standards) of books this year (so far! I aim to read a few more before 2010 is out) – 37 is the count so far, and that’s excluding all the text books and journal articles I’ve had to read for uni. I’ve dabbled with Kesey, Banks, Parker, a very special seagull, and then a whole bunch of NON-fiction (madness!) – Music from Sacks and Levitin, Language with Pinker, Neuropsych with Broks and a mammoth book on depression.
I’ve been busy, you’ve been busy – we’ve all been busy bunnies. Maybe it’s time to chill out and enjoy the holiday season? I have a wedding to go to this weekend (my eldest brother got married in August, and now it’s my other brother’s turn!), and that pretty much heralds the time for festivities. I best get this lab report out of the way, then…
Thanks for indulging me – it’s been a fun 100 posts. Here’s to many more!
Books: The Bridge
Man, I love Iain Banks. This is now the third of his novels I’ve read (excluding his sci fi) and he has yet to disappoint me, even slightly.
Whilst The Bridge still doesn’t top Complicity for me (man, THAT is a good book), it is still a truly great book. Banks is, as always, imaginative and involving, skirting the border between fluid prose and wild streams of consciousness. And again, as always, Banks covers some difficult ground, being quite explicit about violence and sex. Banks is not for the faint-hearted: you have been warned. This is far less aggressive than Complicity however, so might be a good way in for Banksian virgins.
The Bridge starts off with a car crash, and we see it from the POV of the victim – in the chaos and confusion, the “narrative” (if it is even that) is punctuated by fear and pain, and the stream of consciousness is a bit hard to follow. But stick with it: the fog lifts (a bit) very shortly.
What follows is our protagonist’s journey through his subsequent memory loss (he is given the name John Orr because he can’t remember his real one) and his recovery from the crash.
The main part of the novel follows Orr around the strange world of the Bridge, a society built on, you guessed it, a huge bridge. It’s a surreal mix of the otherworldly and the profoundly human. However, we do get glimmers of reality intermittently in Orr’s “dream” chapters, and it swiftly becomes very difficult to discern what is real from what is not.
I can’t say much more without divulging huge spoilers, so I will leave it there in the hopes that I have already whetted your appetite enough.
A final note to say that one “dream” mentions Peniel Heugh, or the Waterloo Monument, which I recognised by Banks’ description, before it is even named in the text. And that’s because I’ve been there. Here’s photographic evidence, taken on my mobile back in July this year:
Hope you get a chance to read this book. I stormed through it in a matter of days, despite my impending lab report deadline – it is simply that exciting and engaging. But then, Banks has a good track record in my books.
Yes, that’s me, reading in bed. Shush.
Books: The Noonday Demon
The Noonday Demon: An Anatomy of Depression
This book took me a long time to read. I had to put a lot of effort in to reading it. Usually, that is a sign that I am finding the book boring, or a chore. That is not true in this case: the sheer effort involved here was to overcome the deep sense of sadness held within the pages.
Andrew Solomon’s comprehensive masterpiece on depression is an incredibly painful read, especially if the experiences described are familiar to you. I’m fairly certain that everyone knows someone who has at some time suffered from clinical depression (whether mild or major), and it is still even now treated with some awkwardness, to say the least. As Solomon points out, “our society has little room in it for moping” – a common phrase thrown at depressives is “pull yourself together”. Solomon relates an incredibly provocative life event (which lead to his third breakdown) in which he dislocated his shoulder pretty badly: knowing his own body and how he reacts to prolonged physical pain (they are a large cause of his depressive episodes) he calmly asked the doctors at A&E to look up his psychiatric history in order to hurry along pain relief. He knew that without pain control, he was likely to plunge into a deep depression. Rather than listen to their patient, and be sympathetic to his suffering by offering a psychiatric consult, doctors told him: “Pull yourself together and stop feeling sorry for yourself”. He was also accused of being “uncooperative” and “childish”. Solomon later lapsed into suicidal ideation and later ended up having a minor breakdown.
Solomon bases this book around his own experiences of major depression (including three breakdowns, thousands of dollars worth of therapy and a rainbow of medications) but this is by no means a self-indulgent, autobiographical look-in. He relates stories from many cultures and classes, from people of all walks of life, all sharing a terrible common ground. Solomon shows us the world of self-help groups, animistic rituals to cure depression in Senegal (the ndeup ritual, in case you want to pursue further reading), the quiet world of Greenlandic depression and the ignored population suffering below the poverty line. All are fascinating. All are equally distressing. Much of it made me angry. All of it moved me deeply.
You know what you’re getting in to from the first page of the first chapter: Solomon tells us, truthfully, that “no matter what we do, we will in the end die”. It does not get any cheerier, even when Solomon devotes a chapter to statistics. But it is illuminating: within the first ten pages, I was already thinking that this should be essential reading for anyone working with depressives, be they psychiatrists, psychologists, nurses, helpline volunteers… It explains an awful lot, and does so without fear and without apology.
Solomon mentions in the foreword that he is not a doctor or a psychologist, and this is a purely personal book, with interpretations only, and is not a substitute for appropriate treatment. However, early on, he throws away common misconceptions about depression: for example, that it is “just chemical”. Well, if you want to be accurate, EVERYTHING is “just chemical”, but that doesn’t make it any less personal or painful.
Depression isn’t intrinsically linked to suicide, but a lot of depressives do think suicidal thoughts (even if they do not enact suicidal acts). It’s incredibly sad to consider the logic behind suicide: the pain so great that you wish everything could just go away, forever. Solomon includes a beautifully poignant quote from one of my old favourites, G. K. Chesterton:
The man who kills a man kills a man.
The man who kills himself kills all men.
As far as he is concerned, he wipes out the world.
But it is not all doom and gloom (hah!). Solomon also shares with us his journey towards managing his depression, as well as the stories of others, and how their lives were turned around by patience and treatment. The final chapter of the book is lovingly titled “Hope”, and Solomon ends his work beautifully, asking us to “Hold on to time; don’t wish your life away. Even the minutes when you feel you are going to explode are minutes of your life, and you will never get those minutes again”.
In his foreword, Solomon warns us that he is “not a doctor or a psychologist or even a philosopher”. I disagree with the last part, and I urge you to read this book.
Books: The Meaning Of It All
The Meaning Of It All: Thoughts of a Citizen Scientist
I was a wee bit disappointed by this book. I think Richard P Feynman is brilliant, and therefore maybe I was expecting something utterly ground breaking. Maybe it’s important to remember that this book is actually a transcript of three John Danz lectures which professor Feynman delivered in April 1963 at the University of Washington. As a result, the book tends to be a little fragmentary, a few points are repeated, and a little unfocussed. Perhaps, had Feynman gone back to this and refined it, we would be left with a more comfortable and satisfying read. As it stands, it might benefit from you reading it aloud (as if you were giving it as a lecture, live).
That said, this small work does reflect on some important topics, mainly the use of science to society. What makes for good scientific practice? What is the true value of science? Can scientists really believe in God? And, my personal favourite, why is it, that with the advances of scientific research in the modern world, is there such widespread belief in flying saucers, homeopathy and astrology?
Feynman also discusses scepticism at length, and in the final lecture he explores how science has been abused. Whilst nothing strictly ground-breaking, Feynman is a hugely respected scientist but also a great teacher and philosopher. A nice quick read for anyone interested in science, philosophy, scepticism, and the philosophy of science.
And as another reviewer has pointed out: Yes, it rambles, but then so do scientists!
Studying on the run
Phew. OK, my first lab report of the semester is away, out of my hands, done.
It was a tricky one to churn out: not because it was difficult to write, but because I have been rather busy. From Cambridge to Hastings, I have been running around a lot the last few weeks. But no matter – that’s what laptops are for, right?
I love my laptop. It means I can work pretty much everywhere. I have a little HP number (with a missing Alt key, but it’s still my baby). I hear stories of people’s laptops (particularly Macs) breaking down, but I have always used HP and they have never failed me (touch wood!)
I’ve been writing on the tube, in cafés, in museums, in bed. I tend to get a lot of work done “on the run” – I’m sure a lot of students do, even if it’s “just” reading. I always have a book in my bag.
Recently, I’ve adopted the bed for doing work at home, because my desk in the living room is simply too close to the kitchen, and I find myself procrastinating. So, I prop myself up with four pillows, and arm myself with a cup of tea, and get a lot done.
Outside the house, I’ve been spending quite a lot of time at the Wellcome Collection, sitting in their café/restaurant. Not only do they have free wifi, but their caterers, Peyton and Byrne, produce delicious, wholesome food. I finally tried one of their Mainly Frosting cupcakes the other day…. Yum.
But where is your favourite place to get work done? Where do you usually study? What’s the WEIRDEST place you’ve set up in to get your work done? Maybe I’m not the only one who writes lab reports in museums!
Image credits: I took it. ME. MY cake.
Films: Fantastic Mr. Fox
I wasn’t sure what to expect from this. I basically grew up on Roald Dahl and was therefore dreading an awful Americanised film adaptation. And while it’s true that this film strays from the original story, it builds on, rather than discards, its roots.
It’s a fast-paced, and at times incredibly weird film: the stop animation is very rough around the edges, but that in itself adds to the charm. Thankfully, the story still revolves around Mr Fox’s big heist on Boggis, Bunce and Bean (one fat, one short, one lean, respectively), and this acts as an anchor to my childhood in an otherwise manic film. And for the amusement of the adults in the audience, the scriptwriters have replaced every available opportunity for a swear word with just the word “cuss”, e.g. “What the cuss are you talking about?”, “If you’re gonna cuss with somebody, you’re not gonna cuss with me, you little cuss!”, etc.
It’s not perfect (my own bug bears lie with the question of where the film is actually set – why do the animals have American accents whilst the farmers are British? It looks to be set in England… so where the hell is the opossum from?) – but it is funny, and cute, and has morals, and, given that you don’t take it TOO seriously, it is a really good film.
Books: Jonathan Livingstone Seagull
Jonathan Livingstone Seagull: A Story
OK, I admit, this book is a bit “Goddy”, and whilst it is difficult to ignore the religious overtones (and undertones. And tones) it is possible. After all, you can just play along with the idea that this is just a lovely story about a seagull who isn’t like other seagulls: he sees something more important to life than just eating scraps.
If the religious… tones… are too much for you, worry not: it is quite short. It took me one tube journey to read. This is simply because half of the very little book is full of pictures of seagulls flying. So as an homage to this book, I won’t spend any more time with text, but rather give you MY photos of seagulls. Because seagulls are cool.
This is a very sweet book. Just mind your head for low flying Christianity.
Christmas: Brains!
OK, I’m going to do a series of posts leading up to Christmas: thematic gift ideas. Today’s theme is: BRAINS!
A bit of an odd one this. Brains aren’t for everyone (in fact, I’ve met many people who have given up on their own entirely), but I for one think brains are cool. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be on the road to neuropsychologydom.
First up, some neurons. Very, very important little blighters, these. So why not have a cuddly one? OK, the cell-plushies may not be news to some of you, but they are utterly adorable. My favourites at the moment are the “brain cell” and the “nerve cell” – look at their wee faces!!
You can buy these little guys from a variety of places, but notably I saw them in the Natural History Museum only recently. Very cool. Priced at around £7, but they do come in a few different sizes, so shop around.
Still on the subject of neurons, I had a quick search on Etsy for “brains” (you’d be amazed at how much comes up!!) and I found the beautiful creations of toybreaker. Including this gorgeous silk-screened design, priced at $30 (about £19):
Nervous Energy (aka Fried Brains) silkscreened microfibre tie
Staying with Etsy for a moment, there seems to be a craze for vintage anatomical drawings in the crafting community. Fine by me, as they can be made into pretty fridge magnets such as this one from CrowBiz, priced at a mere $6 (about £4):
Here’s a find that went straight on to my Amazon Wish List – a brain colouring book?! Genius!! Get yours quick – it’s only £8.99!
The Human Brain: Colouring Book
Here’s one for the dinner table: brain shaped salt and pepper shakers! I wonder which hemisphere corresponds to what seasoning… It’s on ThinkGeek, and is therefore in dollars, at $9.99. Just over £6.
And finally, probably my personal favourites (because I love novelty shaped things, and I have many ice cube trays to attest to this): BRAIN FREEZE. Brain shaped ice cubes. Would make for the most awesome cocktail party ever. Why do psychology conferences not have these? It’d break the ice at parties (whaaa whaaaaaa… That’s the bad pun trumpet, by the way). I have seen these turn up in a lot of different shops – Hunterian Museum gift shop, the Science Museum shop (do I spend too much time in museum gift shops? Oh well…). They’re available on all sorts of websites, so browse around. The cheapest I could find them was on the website linked below, a mere £4.99.
So concludes the first instalment in my Quirky Christmas Gift Guide. I have a few more ideas for themes lined up, but as always, your feedback is always welcome. Got a theme you want me to explore? Suggest it in comments! And happy shopping 
