100 books like The Integrated Mind

This is an expansive treatment of the intellectual and cultural ramifications of the bilateral mind from ancient times to the present. The dominance of the analytic left hemisphere (the “emissary”), McGilchrist fears, threatens to usurp its experience-grounded “master” – to the detriment of human culture.

While The Master and His Emissary and The Origin of Consciousness cover similar topics, it is interesting and important to note that there are areas where their perspectives complement each other and those where they differ, such as their accounts of schizophrenia. I still find myself vacillating between the two. I sometimes wonder whether my indecision may itself be the result of my own hemispheric split.

This book, more than any other on the subject, surprised and fascinated me.

Its thesis is deceptively simple. It suggests that the two hemispheres of the human brain were “strangers” to each other early in our evolutionary history (three millennia ago). The left hemisphere received the information from the right as a message from an unfamiliar source (an unseen “voice”).

Jaynes proposed that this was the basis for all religious experience. It was our intuitive right hemisphere that supplied the “voices” of the gods. True human consciousness only arose when this bicameral mind “broke down” and the “voice of God” was replaced with what had been speaking to us all along, the other more intuitive half of ourselves.

One could almost have predicted that the concept of brain laterality would provide material for explaining the division between the political left and right.

Do political conservatives and liberals have brain differences that may, in part, determine their politics? This volume is valuable as a rare source of material for addressing this question. Political conservatives apparently have larger amygdalas (which register reactions to threat), while liberals may have a reverse valuation. These two brain features may contribute to determining hemispheric preferences.

A comprehensive account by a pioneer of the discipline.

This book provides an overview of the relatively new discipline (in 1975) of “cognitive science,” so much so that I wondered whether I should have switched over from philosophy (I did not). It displays the breadth and depth of the discipline, which convinced me that one could no more be an expert in cognitive science in general than an expert in physics in general, biology in general, or philosophy in general.

This book is certainly a must-read for anyone interested either in the discipline itself or even in a corner of it, such as human brain laterality. (Be sure to see “hemispheres” in the index of this book.)

My central preoccupation as a woman is to ask, how do we come back from places of darkness? In this book, we are led into the dark heart of a jungle where a headstrong scientist is studying the bizarre rituals of indigenous women who eat the bark of a certain tree. (Tree eating? I’m down.) Her former student, research scientist Dr. Marina Singh, is sent into the jungle to investigate what’s going on after a scientist dies, and I love the tense dynamic between these two women.

Marina’s sensory-rich journey made me feel like I was in the jungle, and the plot had me turning pages with my heart pounding. Not only did the story lead me back out into the light again, but it also deeply moved me, with an ending that I will never forget. 

This superb biography is an engrossing account of the mysterious title surgeon and the doctor’s fascinating world. James Miranda Barry joined the British Army in 1813 as a regimental surgeon and served in colonial posts for the next fifty years. But Barry had been born Margaret Bulkley, an anatomical female—a surprise revealed after the doctor’s death.

Was Barry’s masquerade strategic, the doctor’s only route to a medical career? Was Barry a transgender person? I wondered if the “truth” would remain a mystery. Rachel Holmes persuaded me that the probable answer lies in a document “gathering dust” in Edinburgh’s medical school archives, a revelation she saves for the last chapter. 

The book starts with a wife asking her husband who else he would sleep with, if he could. I loved this hook which any one of us might ask in a casual way, anticipating our partner to say ‘only you, darling!’ When the husband doesn’t give the expected reply, it unsurprisingly opens a can of worms which kept me turning the pages. This compulsive, sexy, roller coaster of a story didn’t disappoint me.

For me, this book was an intriguing and fast-paced medical thriller centered around a secretive and deadly society keeping alive the belief that human beings deserve a lifetime of pain and suffering since their expulsion from the Garden of Eden.

I love reading about strange cults involved in medical mysteries, and this cult happens to be in possession of what it considers an ancient panacea: a cure for all of the world’s illnesses.

I found this book to be a page-turner from the start: fast-moving, intelligent, well-written, and with enough historical background, smart dialogue, and interaction between characters to make it incredibly entertaining.

After I decided to include this old favourite of mine, I discovered to my great delight that Bodies Politic is about to be reissued in paperback. Roy Porter was the most prolific, fluent and insightful academic I have ever been privileged to know, and decades ago, his lectures inspired me to recognise how much fun historical research can be. In my own work, I have focused strongly on images – not only in textbooks, but also in journals, art galleries and albums. As Porter expertly discusses, studying caricatures is immensely enjoyable but also invaluable for uncovering concealed controversies, which provide crucial indicators of what people really thought.

Originally published in 1987 this book is a classic text for those studying health and disease in this era. Drawing on diaries and printed materials it explains what people died of in the era and what conditions they lived with. It describes how people responded to ill health both spiritually and medically and it provides a series of case studies to illuminate different aspects of health, including women’s health. Using practitioners’ casebooks, it thinks about the differences between an urban surgeon and the practice of rural physicians. It thus moves beyond generalizations to show that practitioners worked alongside each other to heal patients drawn from different socio-economic backgrounds and that the practice of medicine was supplemented and relied upon interventions by friends, family, and community.