Customer Reviews

An Alchemy of Mind: The Marvel and Mystery of the Brain

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One of my favorite moments in the movie "Contact" is when Jodie Foster's character, overwhelmed by the expanse of multi-colored galaxies she is seeing, says "I had no idea it would be this beautiful, they should have sent a poet" (or words to that effect). I understand this sentiment. I understand that the expressions of science often cast nets over things with so fine a mesh that the aesthetics of human experience cannot pass through. Einstein's "E = mc2" seems far too cold to describe the warmth of the afternoon sun in spring; far too small to express the terrible (awe-full) power of a nuclear explosion.

I began reading Diane Ackerman's "An Alchemy of Mind : The Marvel and Mystery of the Brain" with some vague expectation that what I would find there was a synergy of poetic and scientific descriptions -- perhaps the only synthesis capable of preserving the marvel while unlocking some of the mystery of the human mind. Ackerman wastes no time in establishing her ability to use words. She begins, "Imagine the brain, that shiny mound of being, that mouse-gray parliament of cells, that dream factory, that petit tyrant inside a ball of bone..." (page 3). She is abundantly and wonderfully skilled at creating magical combinations from common words and her book is full of deceptively simple observations (such as the playful but profound "The brain is a five-star generalizer." -- page 54) that manage to convey far more than first impressions might indicate.

But she also wastes little time before indicating that her understanding of science is at best inexperienced. She makes references to theories that are not at all widely accepted (from ESP to Julian Jaynes' "... Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind") without ever discussing them and therefore giving them an implied stamp of acceptability. Worse, she seems to misunderstand evolution (or at least fails to discourage her readers from believing that it is purposeful and sometimes calculating) and confuses descriptions of the phenomenological experience of mind with (as being equivalent to) explanations for how the mind works. (It is interesting and to some degree telling that in the index for the book one finds an entry for Pirsig but not Pinker, Crick but not Dennett, ...)

Ackerman's scientific abilities are made all the more questionable by the nature of her occasional careless statement. On page 38 she attempts to make the immense time span of "32 million years" more easily appreciated by saying it's equivalent to 44,000 consecutive lifetimes (highly unlikely unless the average lifetime is over 720 years). "Common sense," she write on page 10, "tells us that if life exists elsewhere in the universe, it will be far more technologically advanced than we" (a statement that is far closer to nonsense than common sense). The real problem with all of these problems is that they make everything she wants to tell you questionable. How do you maintain (or regain) trust in what Ackerman presents? Why should you read any of it if you have to continuously be checking the veracity of her statements?

There is one possible reason: because Ackerman has a beautiful way with words. But for that to remain a good reason you need to keep in mind that "An Alchemy of Mind" is not really a science book or, ultimately, even a valuable collection of essays about the human mind. It is really better described as a collection of poetic essays about how Diane Ackerman experiences and thinks about her own mind (and how some books she's read influence that experience). Read with that in mind, there are some real diamonds to be discovered between the covers of this book.

Since 1990, when she published "A Natural History of the Senses," Diane Ackerman has continued to explore how intimate human experience defies rational explanation. "A Natural History of Love" appeared in 1994. Next came "Deep Play" (1999), an account of human creativity and our need for transcendence, and "Cultivating Delight: A Natural History of My Garden" (2001), about the way gardening elevates our souls. What fascinates Ackerman in these books is the pervasive mystery of nature, despite the increasing depth of our scientific knowledge.

Her approach is to select a topic that is in its essence ineffable, then gather information about it from the worlds of science and evolutionary theory,literature, myth, popular culture and personal experience, and lavish her findings with elaborately worked, poetic prose. Her intention is to say the unsayable. Here, for instance, is Ackerman defining memory in her newest book, " An Alchemy of Mind," which considers the human brain and consciousness from her customarily impressionistic mix of perspectives: "An event is such a little piece of time and space, leaving only a mind glow behind like the tail of a shooting star. For lack of a better word, we call that scintillation memory."

She is a grand, erudite synthesizer, positioning herself at the place where knowledge ends and reporting back to us in the language of lyric. "I believe consciousness is brazenly physical," she tells her readers, "a raucous mirage the brain creates to help us survive. But I also sense the universe is magical, greater than the sum of its parts." This is not the way things sound in neuroscience journals or philosophy of mind papers.

With "An Alchemy of Mind," which might as well have been called "A Natural History of the Mind," Ackerman delights in finding metaphors that simultaneously describe and demonstrate what she is saying. Explaining our compulsion to make subjective order from objective chaos, for instance, she speaks in terms of cartography: "The brain is still terra incognita on the map of mortality, still the fabled world where riches and monsters lurk. But we've begun mapping its shores and learning about its ecology."

As always, Ackerman has done her homework. Her book offers a useful, evocative picture of what is known about the brain's landscape and environment. It presents current research in cognitive science, neuroscience and technology to show how the brain evolved and is structured. It discusses memory and emotion, the formulation of self, the development and operation of language, the differences between human and animal brain function.

Ackerman loves the clarity of fact. But she adores the quixotic, the paradoxical: "Language is so hard only children can master it," she tells us.

Any page reveals a gem of expressive clarity.Early in the book, examining how the brain adapts as we learn new information, Ackerman says, "We arrive in this world clothed in the loose fabric of a self, which then tailors itself to the world it finds."Later, talking about emotions,she says, "Our ideas may behave, but our emotions are still Pleistocene, and they snarl for attention, they nip at passing ankles." To this, in a brilliant throwaway line, she adds, "Emotions often provide a dark italics to our lives." These are memorable translations of scientific premises.

"An Alchemy of Mind" is a bravura performance in the field of popular science writing. At a time when books about the brain, mind and consciousness compete for readers' attention,Ackerman has presented a helpful survey of the field leavened by yeasty writing and provocative insights.
--Floyd Skloot, Newsday

I enjoyed reading this book very much. Diane Ackerman takes a complex subject like the human brain and makes it easy to understand. Ackerman begins each chapter with thought prokoking quotes by famous writers, thinkers, and popular movies. My favorite quote in the book is by author Pearl Buck. It is about how people have a need to express themselves creatively. My other favorite quote is from Franz Kafka that says that being happy changes your entire outlook on life.

I loved the way Ackerman explains how the brain works in simple language. I learned that neurons grow new dendritic connections every time a person learns something new or expands on connections that already exists. Neurons communicate with each other by using axons.

There is an interesting chapter in this book that explains the differences between the way men and women think. Women solve problems using both sides of the brain. Men use only the side that specializes in that problem. Men lose more brain cells in the temporal and frontal lobes affecting feeling and thinking as they age. Women lose more brain cells in the hippocampus affecting memory as they get older. Ackerman makes an interesting observation that women worry about losing emotional attachments. This is in contrast to men who worry about losing face.

I also learned that human beings share the same motives, feelings and instincts with animals. We all share and seek a need for protection, hunger, status seeking, social contact, sexual desire, and acceptance. I also learned that tool use isn't just limited to monkeys and humans. Crows have the ability to bend wire into a hook to retrieve food in a bucket.

One of the most interesting sections of this book is the one about memory. I learned that the brain does four things to remember. It recognizes patterns, interprets them, records their source, and retrieves them. Ackerman defines the different types of memory which I found helpful. Working memory holds crates of information for immediate use, but it can only do one thing at a time. Episodic memories are those that are linked to a certain feeling. Memory suffers when we are under stress or if we are bored. Challenge, exercise, and novelty of new things improve our memory. I really liked the way Ackerman connects the subject of memory and language. Language gives us a verbal memory that allows us to learn and remember without physically experience something. Words serve as memory aids for some people too.

An Alchemy of Mind is a very informative and entertaining book. I recommend this book to anyone who is interested in learning more about neuroscience or psychology.

This book is less of an investigation of the science of brain chemistry than it is a collection of the author's self-indulgent musings about the aspects of the brain that she finds fascinating. I didn't really learn anything new about the brain's inner workings; however, I still enjoyed the book because of Diane Ackerman's writing style. In the chapter "Creating Minds," she describes herself as a "synesthete" (while somehow managing to implicitly compare herself with Vladimir Nabokov). I definitely agree with this self-assessment (well, not the Nabokov part). Ackerman's writing is colorful, to say the least. This book is richly layered with description and an overall sense of wonder. I wasn't surprised to learn that books of poetry are among her other published works. I gave An Alchemy of Mind four stars because it really is such a pleasant read. Still, I would have preferred to learn much more about the science of brain functions and much less about the time Ackerman broke her ribs while mountain-climbing on a remote island in Japan. She devotes the better part of eight pages to recounting this story, and to be honest, I can't even remember what the point of it was, other than to illustrate the fact that her life has been much more eventful than those of most of her readers. This is also not the only chapter in the book where Ackerman uses an event from her own life to supposedly make a point about the brain (while simultaneously pointing out how cool she is). I understand that good writers draw from their own life experiences to enrich their work, but it did start to get tedious after a while. If this were her autobiography, I could understand her dwelling on these things. In a book that is purportedly about science, however, they were just long digressions that made me impatient to get back to the topic at hand.

Despite all this, I really did enjoy this book, and I recommend it to those who want to read a creative work by a writer who lends poetic flair to even the most mundane topics. (...)

In AN ALCHEMY OF MIND, Diane Ackerman takes on the mystery of the brain and she is successful in captivating the imagination and provoking the right kind of questions about its mysteries.

The other reviewers are correct to point out that there are some errors and bad science. However, there is also much good science and the book accomplishes its goal of sparking us to appreciate our brains in a different way.

Diane Ackerman has an excellent command of words and a very lyrical style that engages the emotions. Her explanations and examples are clear and poignant.

While this might not be the best book for understanding the brain at the deepest levels, it is certainly a worthwhile read for the average person. It is a relatively light read and it will certainly prompt more curiosity.

Despite some errors and bad science, I recommend this book for its ability to deepen understanding of this very difficult to approach topic. While it is not perfect, there is much excellent and accurate content. Think of it as a novel about the brain, which is mostly accurate, but there is some poetic license in play. If you are a hard core scientist or scientific type, there are other books which you would enjoy much more.

Another book about the brain that I recently read was the FEMALE BRAIN. I highly recommend this to anyone, but it's a deeper exploration and although it's fairly light, it's not as light or readable as this. It also contains a lot of information on males despite the title.

An Alchemy of Telling

Diane Ackerman totally turns me on. And that's what she tells us about in most of her writing--getting turned on by experience, by living itself. Her writing inspires me to put more into my own, and her living, as she describes it in her books, inspires me to get more out of mine. Her 2004 book, An Alchemy of Mind: The Marvel and Mystery of the Brain, is the latest of her guided tours through human experience, and mostly it continues her delightful series of explanations about how we come to be the way we are and what that means in learning to live life fully.

As she did in her first best seller, A Natural History of the Senses and the natural sequel to it, A Natural History of Love, she grounds everything on extensive research into biology, phenomenology, psychology, anthropology, neurology and physics-all the relevant sciences, as well as the major spiritual traditions of East and West-and (most rewarding of all to us readers) embeds her facts in prose so rich and vibrant that we are carried enchanted through her images.

Alchemy begins with a description of evolution as it has created the human mind by means of "that shiny mound of being, that mouse-gray parliament of cells, that dream factory, that petit tyrant inside a ball of bone, that huddle of neurons calling all the plays, that little everywhere, that fickle pleasuredrome, that wrinkled wardrobe of selves stuffed into the skull like too many clothes into a gym bag." In other words, our brain. It's this kind of elaborate metaphoring that gives her writing its rich bouquet. Some may find it tiring, if they are simply looking for the facts. But like observing life itself, it's in the myriad of details, the subjective impressions that our minds take in (even if we choose to ignore them in our focus on "substance") that give us what it's really like out there. There's nothing dry in Diane Ackerman's writing. "Juicy" describes it as clearly as any other word this writer can come up with.

She goes on to describe the physical brain, and memory, and the fiction we call a self, and emotions, and language, and then ties it all together in a final section she calls "The Wilderness Within: The World We Share." A graduate-level course, sans final exam. If you want academic support, there are endnotes, bibliography and an index.

As Ken Wilber points out in his elaborate theoretical system on the structures of consciousness, everything in the Kosmos (which includes but is not limited to the Cosmos) has four aspects of manifestation: the individual interior, the individual exterior, the plural interior, and the plural exterior. He charts them into four quadrants: upper left, upper right, lower left and lower right. Our minds are in the upper left, the individual interior. Our brains are in the individual exterior. One cannot separate them, except in the abstract. We have developed the means to examine the activity of the mind-very roughly-by observing electrical activity in different parts of the brain, but we cannot observe a person's thoughts except as that person reports them. We know, from our own individual experiences that such reports are but a weak representation of what's really going on in one's mind. Couple that fact with the severe limitations of language itself, and we can perceive only the tiniest fraction of someone else's consciousness. It's a wonder we can understand each other at all. Diane Ackerman surely adds to our understanding through her use of language. Her three advanced degrees from Cornell and the list of her published books may impress the skeptical, but it's her way of looking at the world that made me fall in love with her.

Now, hungry as I am for understanding of myself and how I fit into the universe, I'd probably read her books along with all the other credentialed writers I hear about-Steven Pinker, Susan Blackmore, Mihalyi Csikszentmihalyi, and others--but from her I get something more. I read her for mental nutrition and enjoyment. It's not just "a spoonful full of sugar helps the medicine go down," it's a spoonful of expensive amaretto blended with a hint of chocolate and a dozen other flavors that I can't always identify. But yum.

And the thing about it is that she doesn't just make taking in the medicine of knowledge easier, her medium (her use of language) is also her message (to resurrect poor old Marshall McLuhen's theme). She illustrates her secret formula, not only for writing in a way to communicate subtle nuance, but for observing the world around us. How much clearer is our mental image of the mind-as-object after reading, "Sometimes as the fog of sleep lifts, the mind becomes aware of the traffic, like commuters on an expressway, messages speed across the corpus callosum, a thick bridge of 200-250 million nerve fibers spanning the brain's two hemispheres. More will follow in a continuous stream of hubbub going in both directions. The brain is a duet of specialists which produces a single experience that's part enterprise, part communion, but all process, all motion."

Mental images translate the language of our outsides to the language of our insides. Metaphors and similes don't only add entertainment to messages; they increase the possibility of true understanding. Details can make the difference between "getting it" and simply not quite.

Which brings me to my other point: that if I intend to function as a writer who puts words together with the desire for other people to understand what I'm thinking and experiencing, then I need to take the examples provided by other writers who move me, and shape my own writing accordingly. Not to copy, but to make use of the inspiration, the message in the medium, of writers I admire.

At the top of my list, beyond a doubt, is Diane Ackerman. I can't think of a better role model.

This book is recommended to those appreciative of well written literature who want to learn more about the topic of the human brain. Ackerman's prose is laden with imagery. After all, poetry is high on her polymathic skill set. I think some of the harsher reviews by readers on this page completely missed or under-weighted the intention of the author when criticizing her for a few perceived flaws amongst hundreds of facts in the book. Paul196 in particular, proves to be quite the nitpicker without much merit. Yet he feels free to be ever so inexact in the space of his small review and I quote...."or words to that effect." Let's return to focus on the innovative approach of our author.

What Ackerman has done differently is to paint a picture with rich language in discussions on a topic that is usually only dealt with in formal, analytical terms. The value of the book then, is that one learns about the human mind in a fresh, creative way. This invigorating style has the pleasant result of the reader retaining more information. Particularly of note are the authors lavishly descriptive discussions of 1) what is meant by consciousness and 2) creativity and brain function 3) how metaphors are one important way our brain understands things.

I am giving the book 4 stars and not 5 as I feel that it could have been a bit shorter and still gotten accross the best of it's information. Also, I could not discern a method or pattern to how chapters were organized ...and after reading this book, we all know how much our minds crave patterns!

I really enjoyed reading "Alchemy of the Mind" and found it enlightening. Reading the previous reviews it seems that a number of people were expecting something different -a hard-science overview. While this book is based on both science and experience it's purpose is not to teach you the biological basis or behavior - if that is what you are after, I highly recommend Sapolsky's course by the Teaching Company.
What is valuable about this book is that it is an artist's view - Diane melds her own life experiences with what we know about the mind to paint a picture as she sees it, and in doing so she makes you think.
The most cogent criticisms are leveled at her accuracy and sources, but to me this is nitpicking in view of the aims of the book. For example Paul Pomeroy says: She makes references to theories that are not at all widely accepted (from ESP to...). Either Paul or I misread her book because when she wrote about telepathy, my understanding was that she by no means was invoking ESP as an explanation, but referred instead to highly sharpened reading of bodily and facial cues. Other criticisms including things like inaccurate quotes. Even if correct, none of these in any way alter the view we are being offered, or the value of its insights.
In many ways we are really similar to our closest animal relatives, something Diane portrays well. In this book at least, she touches on, but does not explore in very great depth the huge gap that also exists, which I would think is because we are actually part of a human super-organism which has become way more powerful at processing information than anything that has existed before. This is very hard to accept because our feelings of individuality are so strong.
We live in an amazing age. Science is beginning to do what religion has failed to do miserably for thousands of years - give us a true sense of ourselves and our place in the cosmos, and to let us know just who we are and why we are here. Far from making our lives "meaningless" as one religious reviewer said, it is giving many of us a wonderful sense of satisfaction and awe. Diane's book is a clear illustration of this.

The mind is a difficult place to explore without a guidebook. With dozens of excellent books by competent researchers now available, is it wise to take up one by a poet? Ackerman is masterful in her use of imagery and metaphor. She is able to convey both research and personal experience in ways that make both seem readily familiar. With many years' experience and a wealth of contacts to draw upon, she leads us almost trippingly into the great mystery of consciousness. Will we reach the end of the journey enlightened, confused or hungry for more information? Will we be dazzled by the science or simply enthralled by the illusions?

Ackerman's writing skills are immeasurably captivating. She has an almost uncanny ability to synopsise or compress a complex quantity of information into a limited space. In this book, she opens with a brief review of consciousness theories, followed by a tour of the brain's physical domain. She demonstrates how her own mind is working as a sample readers may use in understanding their own consciousness. She explains how the brain works along many paths, using varying paces of internal communications. Whatever we feel about ourselves "inside", she notes, there is no single, consistent identity that we can focus on for any duration. There are simply too many influences, both external and internal, affecting how the brain is operating at any given moment. And for "brain", Ackerman reminds us, read "mind". She's under no delusion that the two may be separated.

As Ackerman trips happily over the many treacherous questions besetting those in cognitive sciences, she introduces little asides to keep you entertained. We learn of "Oscar", an alligator who wanted to mate with a French horn player. We follow the journeys of Einstein's brain as researchers struggled to learn what prompted the mathematician's great genius. Her family tree, a delightful shrub of dislocation, inventive genius and musical interests provides an example. Ackerman thus qualifies to combine elements to "fiddle with words". The family tie is but the surface expression of our deeper evolutionary roots. The author speculates on why the human brain should have evolved the way it did. To her, the ability to think about both ourselves and the cosmos around us is "one of evolution's bad jokes". Even so, she reminds us, creative ideas are formed in "an alchemy of mind", which is the positive payoff for our species.

Does Ackerman produce the "guidebook" we need to understand the mind? The roles of poetry and metaphor are good pointers, but they must be followed beyond what the author offers here. She relies on her prose skills to obviate the need for illustration. Another indication of Ackerman's failure to produce a truly useful guidebook is exposed in her bibliography. Although she constantly congratulates herself on what a fine research job she's done on the book, the Bibliography belies that claim. There's no mention of Daniel C. Dennett, although Owen Flanagan's 1992 "Consciousness Reconsidered" is listed. Patricia Churchland, although noted in the text, isn't found here. In short, the reading list is highly selective. One would have hoped for better at this time. A highly readable and tantalising introduction, its shortcomings nearly negate its benefits.
[stephen a. haines - Ottawa, Canada]

   Diane Ackerman remembers a pubescent summer at a camp in the Poconos. Ten 13-year-old girls in a bunkhouse. They talk about boys, canoeing, boys, applying makeup, boys, building fires. And boys. They are exactly alike. But they are also totally different. One might be easily bored, one a loudmouth, another broody. They conceal much from each other about their inner selves. The 13-year-old Ackerman thinks in sensory images and hides her borrowed copy of "Siddhartha." Why are they alike? Why are they different? Of all the mysteries of evolution, the development of the human brain is perhaps the most mysterious.

Ackerman, our poetic chronicler of the natural world, still thinks in sensory images. "An Alchemy of Mind," her brief but lush meditation on the brain, melds scientific research and personal reminiscence with an avalanche of metaphors as she tackles this facet of what she calls her "favorite fascinations," nature and human nature.

The interaction of the brain's 100 billion neurons, she tells us, is like "rush hour on the jammed streets of Manhattan." People are "sloshing sacks of chemicals on the move." Memories are "the shoals of a life." All true, all vivid.  It's an apt technique, because the brain is at its essence a metaphor machine. We look for similarities, patterns, generalities because they point to evolutionary survival strategies. Language itself is metaphor. "Pupil," Ackerman
explains,derives from the Latin word for "little doll," because we see ourselves reflected in one another's eyes. "Windows" comes from the Norse "wind 's eye," which is what they called the ventilation holes in their roofs. "Each word is a small story," she writes.

On the ever-vexing question of whether we are formed more by nature or nurture, Ackerman wisely opts for all of the above. We start our lives with genetic predispositions. But the human being is nothing if not a learner, particularly in the first years. We even learn things that are not true. Hence the false memory. If you tell a small child often enough that he has been sexually molested, he will believe it, and pass any lie detector test.

Ackerman also confirms what we all figure out, sooner or later: the brains of men and women really are wired differently. Women have fewer neurons, but they connect more. That may explain why women are more prone to depression, better at multitasking, remember emotional events longer and better. Women talk, men react through action. Except for the exceptions. And to some extent, we are all exceptions, and that's what makes life so interesting. Sure, we're all human animals, but what about the different personalities in the bunkhouse? What about the Shakespeares, the Einsteins? Einstein left his brain to science, but for years, researchers didn't see anything exotic. Now, scientific techniques have improved, and they realize that Einstein's brain is missing a fold running through the parietal lobes. "Did his cunning spring from an anatomical mistake that allowed better wiring?" Ackerman asks. "Or was it more complicated than that, created from the chemical pond of his brain, a wealth of unique experiences, and the zeitgeist of the era?"

Ackerman delves into her own brain as she wrestles with such knotty questions. For years, the sound of Ralph Vaughn Williams' musical composition, "Fantasia on Greensleeves," triggered a traumatic flashback, because it was the first radio music she heard after a horrifying accident at sea in the South Pacific. Her brain was reminding her to feel fear. But she tells us she has
taught herself to control her panic by consciously turning off her senses, one by one. It is no longer "the terrifying emotional red alert" it had been.

Alchemy is the pseudo-science that seeks to turn base metal into gold. The human mind turns brain cell connections into a self. It's a feat just as improbable as alchemy, but it works. With rare imaginative fertility, Ackerman goes a long way toward explaining how and why.