100 Books Like The Iceberg

There cannot be a more brilliant or more shattering evocation of what it feels like to gradually realise you are forgetting yourself and vanishing from your own life: the mind observes the mind’s deterioration. Bernleff’s pioneering novel, published in 1984, follows the journey of its narrator Maarten from the first days of confusion into a darkness of self-loss. A beautiful, poignant masterpiece about memory and forgetting. 

Erwin Mortier is a poet, and this slim, intense volume is a haunting memorial to his mother in her final months. She died of early-onset dementia, and Mortier struggles to find adequate words for a condition that is profoundly connected to the failure of language and the connection of the self to the world.

Drowse Draaisma is a memory specialist, and this lucid, eloquent and humorous book celebrates the rich and fruitful pleasures of memory in later life (and takes the sting out of the natural forgetfulness that comes as we grow older). It combines science, psychology, anecdotes, advice, and it is above all a work of spirit and optimism.  

Receiving a dementia diagnosis at just 58 years old can be paralysing, but Wendy Mitchell chose a different path. Instead of preparing for the end, she embraced life with newfound determination.

Wendy became a passionate advocate and speaker for dementia awareness. Her remarkable journey includes earning two honorary doctorates and achieving many of her life's dreams, including becoming a published author to share her deeply personal story.

With engaging wit and unwavering courage, Wendy candidly narrates her daily battle with the illness. Her story is both heartwarming and inspirational, as she shows us that despite the challenges, dementia can also bring unexpected gifts alongside sorrow.

Wendy's character is endearing, and her resilience shines through, leaving readers with a profound sense of hope and a deeper understanding of the human spirit in the face of adversity.

Did you know that it's ok to laugh when you are grieving? Did you know it's ok to cry when you are grieving? I didn't. I thought I had to be strong. I thought I had to behave properly and seriously or else people would assume I didn't really love the people I had lost. Guess what? That's complete nonsense.  With grief, your emotions are all over the place, often at the same time, and that's ok. It's Okay to Laugh: (Crying Is Cool Too) is an amazing book that really helps you recognize that your emotions are not mutually exclusive. In sharing (and laughing) about her own experiences, the author really helped me give myself permission to feel my feelings. To feel happy and sad, sometimes at the same time, and to know that whatever I feel in my grief, it's ok. This book often left me laughing out… show more.

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.” 

What drew me into this series was the first book, The Dragon of New Orleans, where a desperate dragon who has been hexed saves a woman who is terminally ill by giving her his tooth. She turns out to be a powerful witch who is unaware of her powers until they are awakened by the dragon’s magic. I loved the self-discovery that takes place and how as her powers grow she used them to protect her lover. The rest of the series brings in other dragon siblings as well as human and vampire characters in adventures that span several states and another dimension. I have a few more to read. 

This tearjerker book made me want to get back to the classroom to make students feel as strongly about me as they had about David.

The author visits former students to find out how he impacted their lives. He has cancer and marital issues, but it doesn’t stop him for being positive and grateful about his encounters with students he taught in high school.

On his travels throughout the country, he slept on their couches, broke bread with them, and conversed with them for hours. He came to the conclusion that his life had been richer through knowing and guiding them into people he was proud of.

Through this book, I discovered the generosity of spirit that exists among educators as they create communities in classrooms that encourage growth and learning.

This account of a stroke took me from seeing thinking as one complex mystery to seeing two styles of thinking in me. This was life-changing. Taylor’s stroke left her stuck in one mode or the other, and as a neuroscientist, she had the language to describe each mode. How rare is that! 

She first cared deeply about the present moment and wholeness. Feeling connected to her body and the energy in everything around her, she was flooded with feelings of curiosity and love. Then, perception shifted, and Taylor focused on finding details to categorize and organize, with a focus on the past as predictors of the future. The world was there for her to use as she achieved her goals. As Taylor described these two states, I could feel and relate to the differences. I started to consciously separate them out in my mind, feeling suddenly awake.

Henry Molaison is surely the most famous patient in the history of neurology, widely known in the scientific literature and to psychology and medical students throughout the world as H.M. In 1953, he underwent brain surgery for the relief of epilepsy, which left him mentally stuck in the present, unable to remember past events or imagine future ones. Although the case is a tragic one, it led to significant advances in the scientific understanding of how the brain works. But the book is more than that; it is as fascinating for the backstory as for the case of Henry himself. Luke Dittrich is the grandson of H.M.’s surgeon, a maverick figure in the history of psychosurgery. It is an often uncomfortable but always fascinating tale of intrigue, ambition, secrecy, and surgical recklessness.