I would like to write about the seeming thoughtless prescription of psychiatric medications to some patients, but I am reluctant to do so because

1. the thought of expounding on this topic makes me feel tired (which means something, of course)
2. there may be some reason behind the madness (i.e. that combination of five psychotropic medications might be the “right” mix, though I frequently have my doubts)
3. I find little utility in criticizing the prescribing practices of other psychiatrists (because, you know, there may be a whole cadre of psychiatrists out there who wonder why I am not prescribing five medications to someone who is, in their opinions, severely ill)
4. I may not put enough faith into the neuroscientific hypothesis that the mind is really just a soup of neurochemicals that can be specifically “tinkered”, like when one makes ratatouille (I prefer to believe that we just don’t know, but why not try talk therapy first, given that that has demonstrated changes similar to those induced by medications on those “hard evidence” brain scans—another topic entirely)
5. I dislike the dissonance that results from railing against my own profession, though I do believe that there is a time and place for it.

Just not today.

So, instead, I will write briefly about the books I have read in 2009.

Guns, Germs, and Steel. It took me a long time to get through this book because (1) parts of it ran a little slow and (2) I was studying for my board exam during this time and had to put it down. Diamond lays out persuasive hypotheses as to how societies came to be: Why did the Europeans dominate the world? Why have Africans been at a social disadvantage? What environmental, agricultural, and ecological factors contributed to the way humans developed over the millennia? I found that some of his arguments became repetitive as the book progressed, though I overall enjoyed the book and learned about weather, agriculture, and different societies through the course of time.

The Historian. I picked up this novel at a library book sale. I finished the book, but did not particularly enjoy it. All of the characters speak with the same vocabulary, grammar, and style—it really could be just one person with different names. (I think the more succinct way to put it is, “The dialogue was weak.”) The story was suspenseful, but the lack of variety in the characters (as demonstrated in their thoughts and speech) diluted out much of this effect. However, in this age of enthusiasm for vampires, I suppose that some readers will enjoy this tale about the history of Dracula.

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time. In stark contrast to The Historian, this book features well-crafted, believable characters. The (autistic) narrator is endearing and it is both hilarious and heartbreaking to read about the ways in which he deals with the world. The story is engrossing and this novel served as a wonderful distraction on the bus ride to and from the site of my board exam.

Reaching the Animal Mind. This is the follow up book to Pryor’s Don’t Shoot the Dog, a text I read while in residency and still refer to frequently. This book contains amusing and interesting stories about animal training and provides narratives that demonstrate learning theory. To learn more about the theory and practice of behavioral training, I would recommend Don’t Shoot the Dog (an excellent resource if you would like to learn how to shape behavior). For a fun read about animals and their interactions with humans in training settings, Reaching the Animal Mind is a good pick.

Envisioning Information. I finally got on the Tufte bandwagon and read this book with hopes that I would learn how to sharpen my visual presentation skills. It is a beautiful book: smooth paper, vibrant colors, nice binding… and some of the ideas he presents in the book are valuable and useful. With many things visual, though, these are his opinions and his opinions alone… and some people may find his style too sterile. I have applied some of his ideas to Powerpoint presentations, though I’m not in the business of making pretty graphics.

Madness: A Brief History. Porter amazingly crams a lot of information into this tiny book that can fit into a pocket. He provides an excellent bibliography so that readers can explore other resources—which, I think, they undoubtedly would, given how he describes the history of mental illness in primarily Western societies. Make no mistake: He is not at all partial to psychiatry or other mental health professions. One can argue that he is skeptical of the assignment of mental pathology and its role in social control. I like this sort of stuff, though I can see how some people might find this book off-putting. Highly recommended as a starting point to anyone who works in mental health—we must continue to hone our skills in thinking critically and “taking the long view”.

The Autobiography of Malcolm X. Riveting, engrossing, devastating, and inspiring. Haley captures the power and passion of Malcolm X and made me wish that I had the opportunity to meet Malcolm, if only to witness how inflammatory he could be. I felt distinct sadness upon reaching the conclusion of the book, which discusses Malcolm’s murder. Malcolm X also loved to lindy hop, which, of course, scores extra points in my book (if I had one).

Naked Economics. I read this because I had little understanding of what had happened last year when the economy tanked. Wheelan writes with a light, simple style and he explains concepts clearly with humor. He provides useful and common examples to teach readers about basic principles of economics… and also challenges notions that we may not have questioned in the past (for me, it was the role of global trade—I’m not sure that I find Nike so revolting anymore).

Sole Sisters. Friends of The Beau gave this book to me as a gift prior to my running of the New York City marathon. I did not find the writing strong or compelling. The content of the stories were interesting enough, though few of the stories engaged me. Was I more inspired to run the marathon? Not really. Did I learn about some remarkable women who run? Yes. Do I think their stories could have been shared in a more enthusiastic and lyrical fashion? Yes. Do I prefer Fitzgerald to Hemingway? But of course—why do you ask?

The Mole People. The content of this book is fascinating… though I imagine that it is more gripping (if not fantastic) to people who are not employed to work with the homeless in New York City. This book addresses many of the questions we should (oh, that ever ubiquitous “should”) consider regularly: What duty do we have in our society to help those who are less fortunate than us? Who determines that? Do we have any right to impose our beliefs and practices upon others? Will there always be outcasts? Are we okay with that? At what point do we extend ourselves to help those who are destitute? Is there anything “wrong” with being destitute?

And those are literally all of the non-work related books I have read thus far this year. This list pales in comparison to the lists of some other people (coughAndreacough)… but the last time I read so many books in one year was probably in… college. Yow.