Dave
Frans de Waal is the head primate researcher at Emory National Primate Research Center, the world's most prestigious research institute (formerly known as Yerkes). He is famous for his work which is critical of attitudes of anthrocentrism or human-supremacism. In this work, he selects a number of commonly presented assertions about the uniqueness of humanity, and demonstrates the ways that such claims are almost always dramatically overstated, if not outright false. The work is less focused around explicitly answering the question of the title, and more a reasoned critique of human arrogance regarding the scientific method. De Waal presents example after example of famous research studies of the past which produced results that fundamentally shaped the way 19th and 20th century humans understood animals then shows the ways that such studies ultimately were debunked due to limitations in research design (almost always resulting from overconfidence in the human way, or lack of ability to leave the human perspective).
De Waal's book is an easy read for the non-scientifically literate public and helps give those of us outside of science a better understanding of what science can and sometimes cannot tell us. It is a very empathetic book, which encourages us to have more humility when we consider the untold billions of species whom we share the Earth with, who down to even the strangest species of wasp, may be capable of higher levels of cognition than we would have ever imagined otherwise.
Fantastic short read. Bulgakov is a bright, ambitious young doctor assigned to a small outpost in rural Western Russia where, even by 1915 or so, electricity has not proliferated. In a series of vignettes Bulgakov paints a portrait of life in rural pre-revolution Russia. His peasant patients, usually illiterate, often carry superstitions that interfere with treatment and spread rumors when procedures go poorly, are out of a previous century and in the cast of characters around Bulgakov, one can see the material circumstances that allowed for the revolution.
The stories are funny, gripping, frightening, sad, and witty. Bulgakov comes of age as a young doctor and his conception of adulthood and his understanding of the rules of the institutions he works within (be they medicine, the village social politics, the Russian Empire etc.) matures considerably as he becomes wiser, more jaded, but importantly more empathetic by the end of the book.
The first three quarters of Killers of the Flower moon play out as a fascinating true-crime historical novel, as Grann pieces together the details of a long-buried series of brutal murders perpetrated by a psychotically evil white man against the residents of an Oklahoma Indian Reservation which in the early 20th century contained one of the wealthiest zip codes in the United States. One investigator tries to do the case right but is ultimately impeded by the structures of white supremacy on the ground in Oklahoma and the bureaucratic machinery of the newly born FBI who had commissioned him. The details of the murders, which were performed in order to consolidate oil head rights which could only otherwise be passed hereditarily are grisly and horrifying in their ruthlessness, but the book ends on a genuinely stomach churning final act wherein the scale and scope of such murders becomes apparent, if not yet (even in 2022) totally clear.
Begins with a very entertaining first third about Crichton's days in medical school, punctuated with humorous stories about life in school and the various foibles of the medical world. The book transitions to the titular travels section, which includes anecdotes and stories of varying interest, ranging from fairly uninteresting stories of Scuba dives that stood out in Crichton's memory, to more interesting tales of life with strange peoples in Thailand, Indonesia, as well as animals in Congo, to finally a frankly strange number of stories about Crichton's interactions with the paranormal world (ranging from psychics, to seances, to hypnotisms, to numerology) all of which Crichton presents himself as incredulous toward but ultimately seems to believe on some level. Crichton, who obviously found great success in every portion of his career, writes with an arrogance that is more tolerable in the works of writers like Anthony Bourdain or Richard Feynman, but considering Crichton's full-time career was being a writer (as opposed to chef or physicist) his anecdotes are almost always engaging and narratively well-constructed at the very least.
The greatest novel I have ever read and one that has become dearly important to me in the few months since I read it for the first time. A novel of breathtaking scope and scale, with an unparalleled vision and unrivaled prose styling.
A psychedelic pulp detective novel set in 1960s Los Angeles, featuring a hilarious cast of characters who Pynchon delights in playing off one another. One of the funniest books of recent times, offering great comedy in its cultural and historical references, wordplay, situations, and structure. The central mystery comes very close to being masterfully constructed and executed but lacks a truly satisfying conclusion, but it's about the journey and not the destination.
The Saltwater Frontier is a very admirably written piece of history. Andrew Lipman presents a history of the geopolitical situation in New Netherlands and New England in the 17th century, and in a surprising breakthrough which rightfully won him the prestigious Bancroft Prize, actually made use of BOTH Dutch and English primary sources to do his research. As such Lipman is actually able to triangulate and include the perspective of the indigenous peoples of the area as well. All told, the book, with its spectacular prose, gives a vivid picture of what life on the ground (and on the sea) might have been like in 1640s Connecticut. In a relatively short 300 or so pages Lipman opens the readers eyes to the ways that the waters of the American northeast functioned themselves as a frontier that were often dominated by the indigenous peoples of the area.