The Mind Electric: A Neurologist on the Strangeness and Wonder of Our Brains

by Pria Anand

A neurologist reckons with the stories we tell about our brains, and the stories our brains tell us.

A girl believes she has been struck blind for stealing a kiss. A mother watches helplessly as each of her children is replaced by a changeling. A woman is haunted each month by the same four chords of a single song. In neurology, illness is inextricably linked with narrative, the clues to unraveling these mysteries hidden in both the details of a patient's story and the tells of their body.

Stories are etched into the very structure of our brains, coded so deeply that the impulse for storytelling survives and even surges after the most devastating injuries. But our brains are also porous—the stories they concoct shaped by cultural narratives about bodies and illness that permeate the minds of doctors and patients alike. In the history of medicine, some stories are heard, while others—the narratives of women, of Black and brown people, of displaced people, of disempowered people—are too often dismissed.

In The Mind Electric, neurologist Pria Anand reveals—through case study, history, fable, and memoir—all that the medical establishment has the complexity and wonder of brains in health and in extremis, and the vast gray area between sanity and insanity, doctor and patient, and illness and wellness, each separated from the next by the thin veneer of a different story.

Moving from the Boston hospital where she treats her patients, to her childhood years in India, to Isla Providencia in the Caribbean and to the Republic of Guinea in West Africa, she demonstrates again and again the compelling paradox at the heart of that even the most peculiar symptoms can show us something universal about ourselves as humans.

Genres: Nonfiction, Science, Psychology, Medical, Health, Audiobook, Medicine

288 pages, Hardcover

First published June 10, 2025

Reviews

[Lori · Rating 4 out of 5]

In “The Mind Electric”, neurologist and author Pria Anand has crafted a work that blends the genres of memoir and medical nonfiction that centers on the miracles and eccentricities of our brains.

While the book is loosely structured across different neurological conditions and symptoms, I found that there was much more meandering across different topics and perspectives than I’d initially believed. Anand opens with “The Theater of Illness”, going back through history to the (incorrect) diagnoses and treatment of diseases, and the skewed perception of female “hysteria” the related symptoms it was associated with. From there, she weaves through a number of different neurological conditions and illnesses, including epilepsy, sleep paralysis, kuru, anxiety, delusions, schizophrenia, and pain (both the experience and the medical treatment for it). In between, Anand shares her experiences as both a patient (during her own pregnancy and as woman of color in the US), a medical resident experiencing sleep deprivation and the endless deluge of patients and illnesses, and as an established physician. She also dives into the history of medicine, exploring different illnesses and breakthroughs that have emerged over time, and the dated racial and gender-based assumptions that still persist today in medicine.

Anand’s writing is clear, precise, and descriptive; especially in a work of scientific nonfiction, the storytelling was central and suitable for readers of all different academic backgrounds. I found the balance between more personal and emotional experiences well-juxtaposed to the more academic and educational topics, encouraging a natural flow across each chapter.

Very much a recommended read when “The Mind Electric” is published in June 2025!

[Brandi · Rating 4 out of 5]

I love the way Anand wove her story within stories of different neuro diseases. Her opinions of how the medical community overworks their employees, how doctors seem to be treating patients as problems and annoyances, and in turn how people may prevent getting treatment or think that they’re over reacting. If you’re a fan of Oliver Sacks, you’d like this one.

Thank you Atria Books and Net Galley for an advanced copy of this book.

[Sana · Rating 4 out of 5]

maybe i should be premed

[Ashlee Bree · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was an engaging and moving collection of medical tales by Anand, a hospital neurologist, about the diseases that can and do affect the human brain. It is told partly in case study, in fable, in history, and in autobiographical memoir.

I liked the duality the author weaved as both clinical physician and narrative storyteller, taking readers on a journey that explored the strange, complex, and often debilitating diseases that can afflict patients and their brains. She isn't shy about discussing how peculiar symptoms - particularly those voiced by women, minorities, and displaced or impoverished people - were or have been summarily dismissed as "hysteria" at the start. Or are/were foisted off as psychological problems like stress, anxiety, or delusion. It was also fascinating to learn about the various disorders that can attack the brain, from everything from epilepsy, to facial blindness, to vision loss, to dementia etc. It's definitely worth a read if you're at all interested in the complexity of the human brain.

Thank you to NetGalley and Atria Books for the ARC in exchange for my review.

BOOK BLOG

[Ali · Rating 4 out of 5]

Anand roams widely in this Sacks-inspired account of neuroscience, mixing patient and personal accounts with explanations and history of medical practice and understanding. She writes with both clarity and poetry - an example:
"One hypothesis for the experience of déjà vu is that it represents a sort of momentary discord between the two halves of the limbic system, a new experience processed by one hippocampus before the other, the delay giving the brain a sense of familiarity for something that is actually entirely novel. A second hypothesis is that the component parts of an experience—the emotions it evokes, the sense memories it elicits—are stored piecemeal across these structures even when the explicit memory—the details of person and place—has been lost. Déjà vu, then, would be an experience that awakens these fragments, the echo of a memory giving the impression of familiarity."
The varied nature of the book makes it more of a generalist account than a deep dive. But if the book can be light on detail, it abounds with meaning as Anand takes us into meditations not only on the nature of brains, but also medicine as a discipline. In between what can seem like an occasionally meandering narrative is a spiral that tightens focus on how medical practice disembodies, and treats the bodies of doctors as strangely lacking the foibles of those they treat. Anand brings compassion and curiosity to her work in equal measure, evoking both wonder at the mysteries of our bodies and occasionally, horror at the distress they can cause.
This wasn't at all what I expected, but I think it will linger for some time.

[Bernie Gourley · Rating 5 out of 5]

There are A LOT of pop neuroscience books out there that reflect upon what we know about the brain from what goes wrong with it. I thought I was done reading such books because, while the first few are fascinating, they tend to retell the same stories.

That said, I'm glad I read this one, and what made it worth reading was that the science was explored in a very personal way, and I don't just mean that the author recited her own personal experiences or those of her patients (though she does both,) but rather that the whole book is imbued with her worldview. She relates maladies of the mind to works of literature, of Greek and Hindu mythology, and to other aspects of culture in a relatable manner.

Another factor that sets this book apart is that its author shows a passion for language. In that sense, it reminded me of the works of Oliver Sacks (who she references a number of times,) rather than your average -- articulate but linguistically conservative -- neuroscientist.

I'd recommend this book for any readers interested in neuroscience, particularly anyone looking for a book that sets itself apart from the crowd. (I don't recall it even mentioning Phineas Gage, which I thought was a requirement of all such books.)

[Jennifer Collins · Rating 5 out of 5]

Anand's The Mind Electric is a fascinating dive into neurology, filled with anecdotes dealing with how various diseases of the mind have been tracked and discovered, the ways our minds work, and cases she's come across as a neurologist. The book as a whole blends medical history, scientific understanding, memoir, and case studies to offer a nonfiction work that transcends any one area of nonfiction and makes for a compelling read offered with respect, humor, gorgeous prose.

This is one of those rare nonfiction works which I think anyone could benefit from reading, and I'm thrilled to have stumbled upon it. I can only hope she writes more works delving into her field and her cases.

Absolutely recommended for anyone remotely interested.

[Tutankhamun18 · Rating 5 out of 5]

//4.5 stars//

This is a piece of literary non fiction if ever I have read one. Every sentence is beautifully crafted and her explanations of anatomy read like poems: “On the battleground of the body, the brain and spinal cord exist in a privileged space, protected from even the blood coursing through them bya microscopic barrier of tightly bound cells that rings every capillary like stones in a fortress wall. The barrier is intended to keep infections of the blood from drifting into the brain. In people with multiple sclerosis, this barrier becomes leaky, the immune cells that circulate in the blood breaching the fortress wall and invading the nervous system.”

The book combines Anand’s medical training, experiences as a doctor, experiences as a mother and patient herself with neuroscience, medicine, history of medicine to put on the page the importance of stories in how we understand ourselves. She is a consultant for neurological disorders, an investigator, a listener to stories and beliefs. The result is wonderful, lyrical and fascinating text exploring how patients get diagnosed and live with with both mundane yet tragic disorders like Alzheimers and eclampsia and incredibly rare ones like Anosognosia.

I really enjoyed this book and its blend of the literary, many references to Arabian Nights, religious beliefs and the belief in medicine and neurons sending each other signals.Throughout all of this she manages to touch of sexism within medical diagnoses, racism in doctors perception of patient pain and symptoms, the divide in health access in the global North and global South, how beliefs shape symptoms and the shadows history casts on today’s medical practices and diagnoses

Some quotes:

Alzheimers: “In most people, they begin in the neurons of memory in and around the hippocampus before they swarm the rest of the brain, spreading first through the temporal lobes that surround the limbic system and then to the parietal and frontal lobes above and the brain stem below. The sulci of the brain, the folds of cortex that mark the geography of its surface, dwindle as the gyri, the chasms between, widen, the brain physically shrinking as neurons die and self is lost.”

“The term complain seems to have entered the medical lexicon even earlier than deny, first documented in a seventeenth-century monograph on surgery in which patients "complain" of everything from vertigo to blindness to "an ill night's rest." The language of medicine still reduces patients' symptoms to "complaints" as though they are something as petty as a biting Yelp review-as if to suggest that a more stoic person would bear them without complaint, that to endorse them is a form of weakness.t In the language of medicine, a chief complaint is what brings a person to the hospital—a headache or chest pain. The terms deny and complaint are diametrically opposed-one is to refuse a symptom, the other to claim it-but both are a form of judgment. This lexicon is combative, suggesting that patients and doctors are adversaries in the labor of healing.
In medical notes, words such as complain or deny sometimes read like harmless jargon, but in the real world of illness, language has stakes.”

“In heavy drinkers, thiamine is poorly absorbed in the gut; in pregnant and breastfeeding bodies, it is funneled to the growing infant at all costs - even if the mother is left bereft. Within the brain, thiamine shoulders many burdens. Without it, neurons are unable to generate energy cleanse themselves of toxins, even beckon to one another across the narrow cleft of a synapse. It's still unclear which of these functions is responsible for the amnesia that marks Korsakoff's syndrome, but sufferers can neither form new memories nor access their own autobiographical memories— the facts and context of their own life story.
As they lose themselves, they begin to confabulate, filling in the gaps with elaborate, imagined memories, the compulsion for narrative order persisting even when the details of the narrative are lost.”

[Dan Cassino · Rating 3 out of 5]

Not quite Oliver Sacks, but the attention paid to how neurological disorders impact men and women differently is appreciated and even not quite Oliver Sacks is still pretty good.

[Emily K · Rating 5 out of 5]

Bringing narration to neuroscience….beautifully told stories of lives impacted by the brain and nervous system. Fascinating and well-crafted.

[CanadianReader · Rating 3 out of 5]

Rating: a solid 3.5

This is an accomplished, capably written hybrid work of nonfiction by a young practising neurologist. As one might expect given the title and subtitle, the book is focused around case studies of patients with a variety of neurological diseases and the historical understanding of the conditions, sometimes going back as far as antiquity. In addition to patient profiles, the author weaves in personal memoir (of her South Asian heritage, medical residency, and two fairly recent pregnancies) as well as literary elements. There is quite a bit more material about the doctor herself, especially her pregnancies, than I bargained for. (One could argue that the book is often about experiences that shaped her as a neurologist, and her pregnancy appears to have been one of the biggies. It made her understand pain on a personal level. Never a bad thing for a physician!) These autobiographical sections didn’t have much to do with “the strangeness and wonder of our brains” (as advertised) and I would have preferred their being excluded. The references to literature likewise seemed to add little. Apart from the discussion of Dostoevsky, who suffered from and referred to temporal lobe epilepsy in his novels, the allusions to literature, myths, and stories seemed tangential and sometimes distracting.

Pria Anand is presently a hospital neurologist, specializing in diseases involving both the nervous and immune systems. She works in what she describes as a “safety-net” medical facility that takes in patients who lack health insurance, citizenship status, and financial means and who wouldn’t be accepted elsewhere. Anand is often called in by other medical professionals for consults on their patients. A few of the cases she presents in the book, however, seem to have been from the time of her training. Although she claims early on that her book will highlight those who have been marginalized by medical culture—women, minorities, the displaced and disempowered—this doesn’t actually play out as much as I expected.

Given her institutional role, it appears that the author doesn’t have warm, longer-term personal relationships with the patients she tends to. Some are in pretty dire straits by the time she is on the scene. For example, the doctor is summoned to assess a pregnant woman with full-blown eclampsia (high blood pressure and convulsions). Emerging from unconsciousness after two days, the patient evidently cannot see, but she doesn’t know it. She has “cortical blindness”: her visual cortex, where vision reaches consciousness, has been badly damaged; the neurons that allow interpretation of what is perceived are now nonfunctional. Cortical blindness is not only marked by the inability to see but also by anosognosia—the total lack of awareness of a neurological deficit. We’re not talking about the garden variety psychological defence mechanism of denial here, but a condition fully grounded in damage to the brain.

In the blurb for this book, Dr. Anand is (seemingly reflexively) likened to Oliver Sacks. I don’t find the comparison apt. Anand provides interesting and accessible accounts of a range of neurological conditions—their presentation, the anatomy and physiology involved, their cause (if known) and some historical context—but, unlike Sacks, she’s unable to make her patients come alive on the page. The stories seem . . . well . . . rather impersonal. I had little to no sense of who these people actually were, beyond their being “interesting cases”. Furthermore, Anand seldom elaborates on her own reactions to those she cares for. Unlike Sacks, she doesn’t write about her mental and emotional processes as she’s trying to figure out what’s going on with them. She mentions her lack of curiosity as a sleep-deprived, thoroughly exhausted resident and also writes that as a medical student, she’d already absorbed a certain cynicism from physicians she’d trained with. For example, when confronted with an Ethiopian student, the member of a rigid Orthodox Christian order, who suddenly and painfully become blind and believed she was being punished by God for kissing a boy, Anand acknowledges responding to the girl’s tearfulness and emotionality with a sort of stony skepticism. In fact, the patient’s condition was due to neuromyelitis optica, a rare autoimmune disease related to MS which attacks and inflames the fatty myelin sheath covering the optic nerves as well as the spinal cord.

Dr. Anand is very good at explaining what is known (and what is not) about the conditions she highlights. The young Ethiopian student’s medical problem and subsequent treatment are very well described, for example. And this is true for the other pathologies Anand covers in her book as well—among them: fatal familial insomnia (in which a genetic mutation causing the misfolding of a protein brings tormented sleeplessness and death to its victims); temporal lobe epileptic attacks (which, in one case, were presaged by a patient’s hearing four musical chords of a Van Halen song); pain perception (Anand considers the extent to which physician attitudes towards patients in pain are racially biased); Capgras Syndrome (in which sufferers believe family members have been replaced by doubles); autoimmune encephalitis (inflammation that occurs when the body attacks certain protein receptors—NMDA—on the cell membranes of neurons in the brain); and movement disorders (restless legs syndrome and Huntington’s Chorea, which manifests as spasmodic involuntary contractions of the muscles that send the patient into a bizarre, fidgety “dance”).

One of the most compelling and terribly sad sections in Anand’s book concerns the case of a teacher who presented to the neurology clinic with a months-long sensation of the world spinning around her. I’m unfortunately personally acquainted with vestibular neuritis, an inflammation of the nerve associated with balance, and I well recall the weeks’ long torture of vertigo and accompanying nausea, but my experience was nothing compared to this poor patient’s. Anand notes that the woman’s condition was far “too wide-ranging to be blamed on a single nerve.” She was wildly uncoordinated and consequently had great difficulty doing everything, including eating; her torso swayed as she sat; and her voice was strange, uneven, and lacking the rhythm and tones of normal speech. An MRI revealed that the patient’s cerebellum, the “little brain” (Latin) at the back of the big one—the structure that coordinates movement and balance—had atrophied. This can occur with a genetic condition called Machado-Joseph Disease, but that was not at play here. In fact, a paraneoplastic syndrome—which causes strange, varied symptoms far from the site of a cancerous tumour—was responsible. The patient had an ovarian mass, and the antibodies produced by the immune system to target the mutant tumour cells also went for a protein made in the cerebellum. That structure’s Purkinje cells, large branching neurons, were seriously damaged. The patient was unable to walk, eat, and speak with any degree of normalcy. By the time her cancer was found, it was everywhere: in the membranes that cover the abdominal organs, in the abdominal fluid, and in her lymph nodes. The poor woman wondered what might have happened if the first neurologist (Dr. Anand was the second) who’d seen her had actually assessed her gait instead of sending her off with benzodiazepines for anxiety.

The author makes excellent points about the language doctors use: the patient “complains of”, “claims”, and “denies” certain things, as though he (but more often she) is an unreliable witness to what’s going on in the body. Anand writes about a movement dedicated to putting an end to this negatively connoted medical speak, which might influence a patient not to bring up important symptoms for fear of being labelled. She also stresses that in medicine, the body tells a story that isn’t always carefully read by rushed, impatient, fatigued and incurious physicians. That is a wonderful thing to see articulated.

There is a great deal to admire in Anand’s book, and I’d certainly read her again. I am left grateful for a still well-functioning nervous system. I do think the doctor was a bit too ambitious here, however, and as I mentioned earlier I could have done without a lot of the autobiographical details. The lyrical prose also got to me at times. When we’re talking about the body, I prefer that the correct terms are used. Why not call a neuron’s cell membrane by its actual name—a cell membrane— rather than repeatedly refer to it as the neuron’s skin? It isn’t skin.

Thank you to Net Galley and the publisher for providing me with an advance reader copy of a mostly rewarding book.

[Allyson Dyar · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really enjoy reading books about neurology and Oliver Sacks is one of my favorite writers on the subject (in my opinion, probably the best neurologist author, with Harold Klawans being the next best). I could easily see myself reading more books by Pria Anand.

Author Pria Anand takes us through her journey to becoming a neurologist, deftly interlacing telling us about her medical education as a South Asian woman and relevant medical history. Most of the medical history was familiar, especially her discussion of Dr. William Stewart Halsted, who is a giant in American medical history.

As a side note, I see that Dr. Halsted is now revered rather than reviled, as he had been during the 20th Century because of his, then, lifesaving radical mastectomy. Halsted’s Operation II was a radical mastectomy for breast cancer. While it saved lives, was very disfiguring for women. It wasn’t until the later part of the 20th Century that women demanded a less mutilating operations for breast cancer.

I very much liked reading about her becoming a neurologist, especially how she talked about her South Asian ancestry and how it made her the doctor she is now. It’s important, especially in medicine, to have different voices and viewpoints, because we are such complex creatures with differing backgrounds and experiences. The more diverse the physician population is, the more likely patients will seek care.

Every author who writes about neurology is compared with Dr. Oliver Sacks. I wish publishers and other reviewers would cease the comparisons because it is a disservice to the authors they are touting and reviewing. There is only one Oliver Sacks just like there is only one Pria Anand.

If I have any quibbles about the book, it is that some of the language used caused me to use the Kindle dictionary to look up the definitions. (I consider myself fairly well-read and intelligent, yet she managed to use words with which I simply wasn’t familiar). Her writing might not be as accessible as other writers, but still, I would recommend this book to anyone who is interested in neurology as well as the experiences of a south Asian woman who becomes a neurologist.

4/5 stars

[Thank you to NetGalley and the author for the advanced ebook copy in exchange for my honest and objective opinion, which I have given here.]

[Joe · Rating 2 out of 5]

At least half the book is personal essays or stories (too superficial to be reflections) about herself not organized enough chronologically to be a memoir. The other half are prettily written pieces describing various unrelated neurological problems. Most come with brief history, but there are no explanations or descriptions of our greater (or at least changing) understanding as time has moved along. Its remarkable how little empathy she has for her patient histories she provides -- not enough sleep while interning or being a resident. The one theme running through many chapters is the persistent disregard of women's symptoms.

I was expecting Oliver Sachs like cases describing neurological issues that shed light on the brain's underlying machinery and how it creates our minds. I was disappointed.

[Linda (The Arizona Bookstagrammer) · Rating 5 out of 5]

Thank you for the free book Atria Books @atriabooks , Washington Square Press @washingtonsquarepress and Pria Anand. This ARC was provided by the publisher in exchange for an honest review. #AtriaPartner
“The Mind Electric: A Neurologist on the Strangeness and Wonder of Our Brains” by Pria Anand ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Genre: Non-Fiction Collection of Medical Stories.

In neurology, illness is closely linked with narrative, the clues to unraveling mysteries hidden in the details of a patient's story and the tells of their body.
***A girl believes she has been struck blind for stealing a kiss.
***A mother watches helplessly as each of her children is replaced by a changeling.
***A woman is haunted each month by the same four chords of a single song.
In the history of medicine, some stories are heard, while others—in particular the narratives of women, people of color, displaced people, disempowered people—are often dismissed.

Author Anand has written a book about what the medical establishment has overlooked: the complexity and wonder of brains, and that gray area between sanity and insanity, doctor and patient, illness and wellness. The stories we tell about our brains, and the stories our brains tell us. She tells her stories through case studies, history, fables, and memoirs. Neurologist Anand’s incisive and humane writing shows us that even the most peculiar symptoms can show us something universal about ourselves as humans. If you like Oliver Sacks (The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat), or are just fascinated with the human brain, pick up this book! Its 5 stars from me🌵📚💁🏼‍♀️🎀

[GONZA · Rating 4 out of 5]

As the introduction says, this book is very reminiscent of the Sacks of the old days, when he focused more on his patients' cases than on his own life. Unfortunately, however, this time, exactly as with the clinical cases explained by Sacks, in addition to the various interesting things I can learn, I am always left with this underlying devastating sadness about the random things that can happen to us and that can destroy our existence.

Come dice l'introduzione, questo libro ricorda molto il Sacks dei vecchi tempi, quando si concentrava piú sui casi dei suoi pazienti che sulla sua vita. Purtroppo peró anche stavolta esattamente come peri casi spiegati da Sacks, oltre alle varie cose interessanti che posso imparare, rimango sempre con questa tristezza di fondo devastante per le cose random che possono accaderci e che possono distruggere la nostra esistenza.

I received from the Publisher a complimentary digital advanced review copy of the book in exchange for a honest review.

[Ryo · Rating 4 out of 5]

I received a copy of this book for free in a Goodreads giveaway.

The brain is an amazing and mysterious organ, and this book shows that effectively, using a mix of history, folklore, and personal anecdotes, covering many disorders and oddities of the brain. It's pretty dense in the amount of information it throws at the reader in a small amount of space, and I wish there were some kind of conclusion to tie it all together, though.

The author, a neurologist, obviously has the medical knowledge to properly explain a lot of the details she covers in the book, both in historical contexts and in her own stories about patients she has treated. And the field of neurology and doctors' understanding of the brain have clearly made a lot of advances over the years, but the author is also honest about how neurologists still are not completely sure about how certain parts of the brain work or how certain disorders come to be. Despite the large amount of medical jargon and the very specific information presented in the book, the author manages to keep it mostly accessible to people without a medical degree. The historical case studies she presents are interesting, but I especially enjoyed the actual patient stories the author tells, as these felt very personal, with the author having an actual connection to the person she treated, and she tells effective narratives about them.

There are places in the book where it gets bogged down in a bit too much detail, particularly with historical context. I understand it's important for current understanding of the brain to explain what has come before, but my interest did start to drop a bit whenever the author goes into a long retelling of history, perhaps because I just wanted her to get back to some story in the present. The author also sprinkles some personal memoir-like stories into the book, but I wished for more of these, as I felt like we were just getting these short glimpses into the author's life without getting more of the overall picture of her life. The book also ends abruptly after the last chapter, without a conclusion tying everything together. It could be seen as just a collection of essays about various mysteries of the brain, but I do wish there were some concluding remarks that the author left us with.

Overall, though, I was entertained by this book that is quite dense with medical information, and I thought the writer's style was both literary and informative. I also appreciated how she emphasizes stories of women and people of color and other minorities being ignored or dismissed, leading to tragic outcomes. It's clearly a problem that needs more attention.

[Zhuo Zhang · Rating 5 out of 5]

Though I've read quite a few books of pop neuroscince cause I am just obssessed with the brain, which is such a mysterious organ. What a joy to read a terrific book by Pria Anand.

This book is very well-written with clarity yet vivid and lyrical tone. I don't feel that I am reading a non-fiction writing for science. The author has blended so many her personal experience into each chapter so that I almost feel that I am reading a memoir. It successfully bridges medical precision with human-level empathy. Its narrative intelligence expands not just our understanding of neurology, but of storytelling itself.

I can easily tell that the author has very solid reading and understanding of literature, since she listed a couple of examples in some famous literature: her analysis of Dostoyevsky's epilepsy, Virginia Woolf's manic-depressive illness, blindness in reality of a renowed author Borges and in fiction of Blindness. She also mentioned motion sickness from the character of Clarissa Dalloway" and The Sea Wolf.

I am so thrilled to confirm my guess when I marched into Chapter 10 where the author mentioned that she studied cognitive science and literature. "...immersed in not only the branching networks of both syntax and neurons that underlie language, but also the faint moonlight and tumbling graves of T.S. Elio's The Waste Land and Other Poems. Years after I first heard Bhenji's prayers, I would recognize them in Eliot's poetry. The penultimate moments of "The Waste Land" and cacophonous, rife with sining grass and hermit thrushes, with whistling bats and tolling bells and voices spilling from empty cisterns and exhausted wells, but like Bhenji's prayers, the poem ends with a plea for silence: Shantih, shantih, shantih." These words have moved me into tears.

I also very appreciate the "Suggested Reading" at the end of the book - it not only demonstrates that the author has done a thorough research but also provides so many windows to who want to know more about each/all topic.

[Donna · Rating 5 out of 5]

Rephrasing the title of Walt Whitman's poem "I Sing the Body Electric," Anand does for the mind what Whitman does for the body. In a lyrical book of non-fiction that reads like literature, she illustrates the importance of listening and respecting the stories of your patients as the best way to help and heal them.
Mining her family history and her own trials with brain issues, she traces her path from medical student to neurologist. She finds the field of the mind fascinating, as will the reader, when the smallest process goes awry, resulting in the takedown of the whole body. So many things can go wrong in the nervous system that one is amazed that it usually goes right.
Anand credits the work of Oliver Sacks as an inspiration for this book, and like Sacks, she presents case histories of the patients she sees in the hospital. She is especially intrigued by the state of "confabulation," where the mind constructs a narrative of a logical explanation for the bizarre symptoms of the body. She likens this to the story of Scheherazade, who under pain of death, is forced to tell a tale each night to delay her demise.
While the book notes the importance of listening and observation in general, her emphasis is on women, people of color and the poor who are often misdiagnosed or just brushed aside. The brain disorders in women were historically characterized as "hysteria" (or wandering uterus). In more modern times, female patient complaints are deemed "psychological," resulting in time lost in the psych ward, while the answer involves brain/blood leaks and out of control neurons.
The author's takeaway is very simple and also very complicated-the patient will tell the doctor what's wrong if the doctor will listen. Maybe it won't be in words, or in words that make sense, but if attention is really paid, the answer will often be there. First do no harm.

[Moth · Rating 3 out of 5]

Thank you Atria Books for the gifted copy!

The Mind Electric is an exploration of the scientific history of neurological disorders mixed with the author’s personal anecdotes related to each disorder.
This was interesting, but not a favorite. I have a lot of conflicting feelings about it. It was written well but wasn’t quite cohesive in its tone. It was very informative and interesting, but it didn’t quite deliver a solid message
The mix of memoir and scientific case study was good in theory, but they didn’t quite work together. I needed one or the other, but the book didn’t work with both. The tone wasn’t cohesive, and there was almost a whiplash effect from the switch between the two.
The personal anecdotes were interesting, but they felt a little shallow. To write about a patient’s suffering, or even the horrible working conditions of medical residency, but not discuss the need for change or possible ways to change? It just felt weird to me.
I also wish the book would have focused more on marginalized voices like the synopsis said. There were several vague mentions of the author working in a hospital with mostly impoverished/POC patients, or there was the fact that all of the anecdotes were about women, but that was it.
I also wish there was more about the patient outcomes. The diagnoses were discussed in detail, but we get very little information about what happens after the diagnosis. I wanted to know if the patients actually improved. I was so invested in their stories, and I wish we had gotten a bit more.

CW: medical content (fairly graphic); pregnancy & childbirth (graphic); racism; sexism & misogyny; death

[Nicole Pi · Rating 3 out of 5]

I found this book super fun! Lots of great facts about the history of medicine and medical practices, so much brain trivia, and all of it expertly woven with Anand's reflections and family lore. "The Mind Electric" lives up to its name: if I were to use one word to describe it, it'd be "cerebral."

However, by the time I got to essay 7 of 11, I just personally found it all to be a bit redundant and a bit of a drag. Her essays all follow the same structure: beginning of narrative, introduction of brain metaphor, a couple flip flops between the narrative and quick facts/continuation of the brain metaphor, end of the narrative, a terse but moving reflection about it all, footnotes, and the end. There's absolutely nothing wrong with this structure. It's standard for a reason -- my all-time favorite essays all follow this structure. I think my issue was just reading 11 straight essays with this format, in which there's nothing inherently wrong with it, it is, after all, an essay collection, but there's just nothing in the text keeping me going from the end of one essay to the next. Perhaps it could be improved if all of the essays were all fit under one broader narrative (like, there was an introduction. There could've also been a conclusion. And some transitions between the essays, such as a brief statement about the essay's broader connection to the highest-level narrative). But honestly, this is also just a issue I seem to have with most essay collections, I've just finally read enough to notice this pattern.

Shoutout to Washington Square Press for the eARC!

[Darlish · Rating 5 out of 5]

Pria Anand’s The Mind Electric draws on literary examples from ancient times to the present to skillfully explore her patient’s condition or illustrate the complexities of the brain. Her writing is lyrical and at times captivating. The reader is left wondering where the story will go and how it relates to a particular malady or condition. Dr. Anand reflects on her own life experiences and melds them with her analysis and observations. She devotes time to diseases/conditions like Multiple Sclerosis, chronic pain, the effects of pregnancy, and other mysterious brain maladies. Each case study is handled with compassion and scientific rigor.
Dr. Anand examines inequities in medicine by illustrating the ways people are misdiagnosed, dismissed, or forgotten. She pays close attention to the words she uses. In one example she explains that in the initial consultation with a patient a physician often asked(s), “What is your complaint?” This she reminds us is often directed toward women. A better way, she tells us is to ask, “What is your concern?” It is a simple shift that will help us move toward better patient care and a more equitable healthcare system.
I enjoyed reading this book and am grateful for the chance to learn more about the complexities of the brain. My main interest is in how Dr. Arnand, other physicians, healthcare systems and patients can begin to work toward a healthcare system that treats the individual with compassion, care and skill. Thank you to Dr. Arnand for her contribution to this complex and important field.

[Jan Peregrine · Rating 5 out of 5]

I wrote a poem inspired by the 2025 book The Mind Electric by neurologist Pria Anand that was also inspired by Carl Sagan's novel Contact. Anand was inspired by The Arabian Nights, but I'm not sure if my poem should be called what she called her book. Comments, suggestions welcome!

There are universes inside me, waiting to be known;
there are stories within me, waiting to be heard by you;
do you wish to understand me? Then listen to me now
hear what my body and soul tell you is true.

Like the storyteller extraordinaire of The Arabian Nights,
we tell stories we make up in order to live and fool death;
will you instead tell your own story about me?
Will you allow me to live freely and draw my own breath?

The murderous king spared the life of his new wife,
because she told him a thousand and one stories to amuse him;
there were universes inside her he wanted so much to hear;
we too can save ourselves when our life stories we spin.

Why haven't we yet heard from the universe around us?
Are there other intelligent beings listening to our stories?
Maybe first we need to listen to what they may be saying?
Maybe we'll find them when we're not so boring?

So please tell me your stories that make up your lives;
they might seem confusing to me or even to you;
this is okay, you see, for it proves we only are human,
this is like an evolving map to guide us all through.

Jan Peregrine 2025

[Lulu]

In "The Mind Electric," neurologist Dr. Pria Anand invites readers into the fascinating and often bizarre world of the human brain. Dr. Anand combines clinical case studies, personal reflections, and scientific insights to illuminate the mystery and marvel of how our brains work, and how they sometimes fail us.

Anand’s writing is elegant yet accessible, never bogging the reader down in jargon. She has a gift for simplifying complex neurological phenomena into vivid and often moving narratives. Each chapter unfolds like an exploration of the unknown corners of the human brain, led by a physician whose compassion matches her intellectual curiosity.

The subject matter, which includes strange brain disorders, consciousness, and the nature of identity, is inherently gripping, and Anand handles it with both wonder and humility. While the book occasionally drifts into familiar territory for fans of medical nonfiction, Dr. Anand's voice and perspective lend a refreshing depth and sincerity to the genre.

"The Mind Electric" is an illuminating read for anyone intrigued by the mysteries of the brain. It strikes a fine balance between storytelling and science, offering insight into not only neurology, but also what it means to be human.

[Stephen · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Electric Mind is a book about how the brain works by way of looking at cases where things went wrong. The book combines stories of patients with puzzling conditions (in the manner of an Oliver Sacks book) with stories of the author’s medical education journey. Along the way, we learn a bit about the history of the study of the brain and of medical education.

Aside from the science, what I found most interesting and compelling about this book was the author’s commentary about medical training and the practice of medicine. I learned that practices like rounds (when students follow a doctor around as they visit with patients) and being on call (where doctors in training work long shifts, often performing in a subpar state as a result) are based on historical traditions more than any pedagogically based idea. Anand also repeatedly points out that this training tends to place doctors in the role of people who want to find a solution quickly, with the result that they occasionally miss something important, either in terms of follow-up or causes.

Get this book for the medical mysteries to learn a bit about how the brain works, and leave learning a bit about how listening and patience can make for a better medical experience.

[Pam · Rating 4 out of 5]

The brain is a strange and wonderful organ. If you have ever had a friend or relative with a neurological illness, or you simply want to understand the complexity of the human brain, you will appreciate this well-researched book of anecdotes, historical context, explanations, treatments and the author's experiences as a neurologist to primarily women, people of color and the poor. Wow, that was a long sentence! But it also perfectly describes this book -- lots of information, research and case studies.
From sleep deprivation -- as the author experienced herself as an overlooked medical resident -- to epilepsy to vertigo to MS -- it is fascinating how throughout history, many neurological and physical diseases had -- and still have -- been attributed to witchcraft, "hysteria," lack of sleep and more.

I took off one star because the book is very detailed and it is easy to get bogged down with so much information, but I still really enjoyed it and learned a great deal.

Thanks to NetGalley, the author and Washington Square Press/Atria Books for the eARC and the opportunity to read and review this book.

[Mihiret · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is an intriguing, wide-ranging book. It really is about the strangeness of human brains--Dr. Anand is a neurologist, and she writes from inside her experience as both a doctor and a patient. Each chapter goes unexpected places, usually beginning with a patient's unusual symptoms, and then expanding to Anand's own experiences as a patient (particularly during pregnancy), literary sources, first historical records of such cases, brain anatomy, etc. While I sometimes felt like I couldn't pin down the central idea or theme of a chapter (there are multiple discussions of memory loss, etc), I really enjoyed the many facets each essay brings to the discussion. Anand writes with empathy of her patients' experiences, though I did want to know more about their experiences of their illnesses (perhaps not possible, given the seriousness of their medical conditions). It is accessible for the ordinary reader--Anand offers clear explanations throughout--but best approached with willingness to wander.

Thanks to the author, the publisher, and Netgalley for my free earc in exchange for an honest review. My opinions are all my own.

[Darcia Helle · Rating 4 out of 5]

THE MIND ELECTRIC is part memoir and part exploration into all the ways illness can mess with the brain, and all the ways the brain can mess with the body.

I appreciated how the author, a neurologist, wrote honestly about how and why doctors lose their empathy over time, becoming inured to pain and suffering, and tuning out patients’ individual stories.

One thing she noted as problematic is the medical jargon used in doctors’ notes. Anyone, like me, dealing with chronic “invisible” illness will be familiar with these phrases on their charts: “patient denies” (heavy drinking/drug use/whatever else) and “patient complains of” (pain/fatigue/whatever symptoms). So we’re denying and complaining, which the author rightly notes is “combative” language, and therefore doctors should approach us with skepticism. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen this addressed in any memoir or medical book, and it really spoke to me.

Throughout the book, the author shares vignettes of real stories from her own life and from patients she has treated over the years. The writing is engaging and the information is easy to understand.

*Thanks to Simon Audio for the free audiobook download!*

[Hal · Rating 3 out of 5]

I kind of went back and forth on this one. I was not going to continue after a couple of chapters because I thought it wasn't going anywhere interesting. But then a few things caught my interest and I finished out feeling about the same at the end.

Neurology and the mind a very interesting and weird topic when it comes down to it. I call neurology, voodoo medicine. Dr. Anand takes us through a myriad of topics relating to this and integrates it with her medical training period as well as her family roots in India. She practices here in the US but takes us back and forth to contrast with the life that was her family in India, especially her relatives.

Some of the cases she relates are fascinating, other not so much. She tends to wander from theme to theme with not a clear motive or path but still there is much to learn here about our very complex and strange bodies. Her medical training is impeccable with two of the elite schools in her resume so this woman clearly surpasses in intelligence. Her writing may need a bit more work but she will get there.

[Kaitlyn Ashley ♡ · Rating 3 out of 5]

I really appreciated commentary on things that I feel on a daily basis. Such as "the loss of humanity to preserve the function of a physician". She also admits to some very vulnerable feelings as a result of her burnout, like wishing a patient arrived too late for tpa so that she didn't have to return to the hospital and could sleep.

Overall, this was...fine? It is a hybrid between case studies, memoir, historical facts, fables. It gets redundant, sometimes, overly flowery prose, and doesn't feel like it has one clear purpose it is executing. It has a lot of almost purposes- highlighting gender disparities, clinician burnout, the medical education system and other areas that need correcting, but it feels all over the place without any offers on how to improve systems, and doesn't stick with any clear message. I found myself STRUGGLING to actually finish this one.

Also- in the beginning of this book she references malingering and factitious disorders as FNSD, and I could not get past that. Those are very different things.

[Bethany Mock (bethanyburiedinbooks) · Rating 4 out of 5]

Thank you @washingtonsquarepress #partner for the gifted copy of this book

Ever since I read Brain on Fire, I’ve been completely fascinated (and mildly terrified) by books that dive into how our minds — these incredible, complex things we rely on every second — can turn against us in the blink of an eye. The Mind Electric by Pria Anand totally scratched that itch for me, but in a very different way than Brain on Fire.

This is a memoir, yes, but it weaves together so much more. Pria pulls from her own family’s history, her grueling medical training, personal struggles with neurological issues, and the stories of the patients she’s treated along the way. She doesn’t shy away from the hard stuff either — she dives into how race, religion, and socioeconomic status impact the way neurological issues are perceived, treated, and lived with. It’s heavy at times, but so important.

I’m honestly amazed (and a little unnerved) by how something as vital as your brain — the thing that literally makes you, well, you — can suddenly betray you without warning. This book had me feeling all kinds of things: it was thought-provoking, educational, eerie, and completely fascinating.
If you’re someone who loves to learn while you read, enjoys stories about the human body and mind, or are just in the mood for a compelling memoir that’ll stick with you long after you finish, definitely give this one a shot. Some of the people and cases Pria talks about will be haunting my thoughts for a while.