100 Books Like Heal Thyself

Dipping into this uplifting book before bed each night gave me gentle reminders of the deeper meaning that can be found even in the most mundane of incidents. The folksy title doesn’t do justice to the quality of these 70-odd short stories, which are based on the author’s experience in medical practice and personal life.

Rachel Remen developed Crohn’s disease in her teens, and despite continuing ill health requiring multiple surgeries and an ileostomy, she went on to have a long career as a doctor. I don’t know if she kept a reflective journal about daily events, but this book made me wish I had done so myself.

I devoured Eben Alexander’s book about a neurologist’s experiences in a coma. It was fascinating, the kind of book that keeps you glued to your seat. A few years ago, I wouldn’t have even considered reading a book with that title. My rational mind wasn’t open to anything beyond what my senses could verify. I dismissed my mystical experiences as coincidences, skeptical of anything that challenged the laws of physics or hinted at mystery.

Though the word "heaven" still doesn’t resonate with me, I’ve begun to sense something unknown. William Blake said, "Everything possible to be believed is an image of truth." My growing awareness of my own mortality has made me more receptive to the unknown.

I no longer demand proof or argue with the unseen. Instead, I listen and allow wonder to rise naturally. Death, once seen as an end, now feels like a threshold into something vast… show more.

I found this an inspirational book, showing that besides causing much sadness and suffering, serious illness sometimes leads to positive transformation in people’s lives. While he was a medical student, Dinesh Palipana had a car crash that left him quadriplegic, apart from some limited hand function.

After years of rehabilitation, through tremendous hard work and determination, he became a doctor, lawyer, and disability advocate. This memoir is frank, practical, infused with humor, and the wisdom of Stoic philosophy. It put my own minor health concerns into perspective. Incidentally, he writes that an episode of major depression in his earlier life “paralyzed me more than the spinal cord injury ever has,” an interesting comparison between mental and physical illness. 

I found this a distressing but compelling read that made me reflect on my own life and mortality. Being a retired doctor myself, I know that healthcare professionals often delay seeking help for their own medical problems and can feel disconcerted and even humiliated when cast into the role of patient.

In this brutally honest account of his transition from famous surgeon to “just another old man with prostate cancer,” Henry Marsh combines a factual account of his illness and treatment with heartfelt ruminations about the prospect of dying. The text is interwoven with recollections of his career as a neurosurgeon in the UK and Ukraine, more fully described in his previous books “Do No Harm” and “Admissions.” 

Rogers has an unexpected message to share. It’s possible to be grateful amidst a loved one’s death. In her case, it was the loss of her husband, and the story is told through blog posts he composed during his final year of life along with her own journal entries. By seeing her way through her own depths of grief, Rogers points the way for readers to seek and find their own gifts embedded in the grief of loss.

Mary Durant was my mother. This was her first novel, published in 1963. When I read it, the proverbial light bulb popped to life in my very young head: I recognized the real-life people and events upon whom the characters and plot were based, and because of that familiarity, saw the way my mother had changed things around, invented circumstances, conversations and fashioned composite characters to create a story. It was a behind-the-scenes crash course in the art of fiction-writing, the marvelous synthesis by which the novelist spins fact and invention into literature. And I understood that really good fiction, though technically a "made up" story, is always imbued with Truth with a capital "T," and that great writing and Truth are inextricably intertangled.

My mother was a first-rate writer and reader, and because of her, I was initiated into the quasi-secret bandwidth of real literature. The key: it’s all… show more.

Hang-gliding is a literal leap of faith. You jump from terra firma and hope that the wind rises beneath your airfoil. Running from Safety is the author’s leap of faith, and, by extension, the readers. “Have you ever met anybody…like the people in your books?”  This is the cryptic question that begins this life exploration. 

As a writer myself, I know that every character in my books is me. Bach knows this, too. But do we really learn from the collection of stuff we hold inside, stuff that is our history? The book begins when Bach is confronted by Dickie, his child-self. The boy asks for one thing: He wants his adult self to sign off on the meaning of life contained in his eight-year-old vision of maturity. Bach is appalled at his simple naiveté. What should you tell your younger self? 

Baroque in prose and unabashedly erudite, this scholarly memoir by a Pulitzer Prize-winning arts critic may not be for everyone.

But I adored his uncanny descriptions of musical interpretation (such as Glenn Gould’s “flinty” recording of Bach) along with Kennicott’s prickly asides—“I hate the word ‘healing.’” Following the death of his beloved yet cantankerous mother, Kennicott channels his grief into learning to play Bach’s masterwork, the Goldberg Variations.

For a lapsed pianist in midlife, it’s a Herculean task. Unanswerable questions absorb him along the way: What does it mean to know a piece of music? What does it mean to know another human being? Throughout his musings and often comical childhood memories, Kennicott’s devotion to his Baroque master shines clear: “If Bach’s Goldberg Variations are not great, then nothing is.”

Most people think of Bach as a church composer, but the broader political context was that of Frederick the Great and the Enlightenment.

Bach was rationalizing music as much as he was putting it to liturgical use. The great cycles of the Well-Tempered Clavier and the Art of the Fugue are science as well as art. This book explores that idea by focusing on a bizarre encounter between Frederick and Bach, when he was invited to play for the king, in what may have been an early attempt at trolling.

Bach the church mouse and Wagner the megalomaniac had more in common than people imagine.

They both favored dense, contrapuntal textures with central themes and motifs, and both had an irrepressible personal energy, albeit manifested differently. This book digests the philosophical aspects of music in unpretentious language that saves you from having to read Schopenhauer (phew!).

It makes you more interested in both philosophy and music by showing how to two are connected in Wagner.