The Darker the Night, the Brighter the Stars: A Neuropsychologist's Odyssey Through Consciousness

by Paul Broks

When celebrated neuropsychologist Paul Broks's wife died of cancer, it sparked a journey of grief and reflection that traced a lifelong attempt to understand how the brain gives rise to the soul. The result of that journey is a gorgeous, evocative meditation on fate, death, consciousness, and what it means to be human.

The Darker the Night, The Brighter the Stars weaves a scientist's understanding of the mind - its logic, its nuance, how we think about what makes a person - with a poet's approach to humanity, that crucial and ever-elusive why. It's a story that unfolds through the centuries, along the path of humankind's constant quest to discover what makes us human, and the answers that consistently slip out of our grasp. It's modern medicine and psychology and ancient tales; history and myth combined; fiction and the stranger truth.

Genres: Psychology, Nonfiction, Science, Philosophy, Neuroscience, Memoir, Death

336 pages, Hardcover

First published May 3, 2018

About the author

Paul Broks is an English neuropsychologist and science writer. He is a former Prospect columnist, and his work has been featured in The Times, Sunday Times, Daily Telegraph, and Granta. Trained as a clinical psychologist at Oxford University, Broks is a specialist in clinical neuropsychology and is the author of Into the Silent Land, which was shortlisted for The Guardian's First Book Award.

Reviews

[Thomas · Rating 3 out of 5]

Not a bad book. Very lyrical and poetic.

In it the author digs deep in a grief inspired journey through eternity and the nature of consciousness and reality, you name it. He considers many questions I’ve pondered my whole life. It was interesting.

He retells a number of ancient Greek myths and adds some stories of his own. They’re a bit hit and miss in my opinion. There are some interesting meditations on some very deep subjects here. He presents some interesting case histories that remind me of some other books written by Oliver Sacks.

One thing that annoyed and puzzled me through much of this book was his take on the permanence of self. He claims it has no underlying physical reality because all the cells in our bodies are replaced every 7 to 10 years. I’m no scientist and I don’t know about the rest of the body but I’m pretty sure we have billions of neurons in our brains that last our entire lives. This is the second time I’ve encountered a book where someone, supposedly in the know, doesn’t seem to realize this fact. I thought I would quote from an article in the National Geographic website which you can find here:
https://www.nationalgeographic.com/sc...

It says in part: “All across your organs, cells are being produced and destroyed. They have an expiry date.
In your brain, it’s a different story. New neurons are made in just two parts of the brain—the hippocampus, involved in memory and navigation, and the olfactory bulb, involved in smell (and even then only until 18 months of age). Aside from that, your neurons are as old as you are and will last you for the rest of your life. They don’t divide, and there’s no turnover.”

So am I mistaken about this? Is there something I missed? I have heard of recent discoveries that show that more neurons than we used to think do get replaced, but not all of them. I am aware that the mind is not a physical thing but a product of the brain. Consciousness is a process, but it seems to me that an underlying physical substrate, like neurons that last our entire lives, presents a pretty good theory for answering the question of the continuity of self. I’m not saying for certain that that is the answer, but it seems like a pretty compelling possibility to me and I don’t understand how Dr. Broks could possibly be unaware of this. If he is aware of it, he does a pretty good job of ignoring it.

He even suggests that you wouldn’t be the same person when you woke up after ten years in suspended animation. Well, even if our bodies did completely replace themselves in 7 to 10 years so that we were no longer the same people but just had the same memories, that notion seems to suggest that the author doesn’t understand the basic concept of suspended animation. Has he read no science fiction novels at all?

There are different points in this book when the author seems to assert that consciousness or "self" is an illusion. How can anyone possibly know that for sure when we don't even know exactly what consciousness is? For all we know, what we have is the real deal. If it's not, what exactly is it supposed to be? I think you have to know what a thing is actually supposed to be before you can decide whether or not it's an illusion.

In any case, other than that glaring hole in his main arguments about selfhood not being real, I enjoyed this book overall. My one big take away, the thing that makes my forgive many of this book’s shortcomings, is this quote from the author’s wife as she faced down the end of her life, “You don’t understand how precious life is. You think you do, but you don’t.” Powerful words because they are so true. It sucks that we can never really fully appreciate life until we're almost out of it.

Overall, a pretty good book with one giant caveat and few small ones.

[SundayAtDusk · Rating 3 out of 5]

The deeper I got into this book, the more I skimmed. Nothing Paul Broks was saying was sticking in my mind. Nothing. He appeared to be searching for meaning . . . I think . . . but all I felt was meaninglessness while reading. Three stars for a neutral rating. I quit reading.

(Note: I received a free copy of this book from Amazon Vine.)

[Sarah Joyce Bryant · Rating 5 out of 5]

I absolutely loved this book. I loved the mix of fiction, nonfiction, and memoir. It created the kind of edge in words that we live on every day in our minds. Broks perfectly captures the winding labyrinth of the mind and its thoughts, dreams, fantasies. I really enjoyed being able to return to this book each day to read a little and ponder on the questions Broks posits. I think, too, that it helps that many of these questions are ones that I struggle with too. Maybe that is because there are no answers. Still Broks grapples with grief, loss, philosophy, quantum mechanics, psychology, and so much more.

So many of the lines in this book are quote worthy. His writing reminds me a lot of Oliver Sacks, but Broks has his own unique voice and observations. Lately, it has been very difficult for me to find a book that can pull me in and keep me interested, but I kept returning to this book again and again to learn more. I also really like the addition of the sketches. It brought something special to the book.

[Jim Razinha · Rating 4 out of 5]

I got a review copy of this from First To Read. The description (First line: "Paul Broks weaves together imaginative stories of everything from artificial intelligence to the Greek philosophers in order to sketch a beautiful, inimitable view of humanness that is as heartbreaking at it is affirming.") grabbed me, so I requested a copy. The rest of the description follows..."When celebrated neuropsychologist Paul Broks's wife died of cancer, it sparked a journey of grief and reflection [...]" I had never heard of Broks so his celebrity might be localized. I am also not all that acquainted with neuropsychology, and had to do a little background research (unnecessary for reading this) to familiarize myself.

Broks writes in his prologue

This is not a conventional book and I think you should know what you're in for.

He's right. It's not. Continuing:

What (I hope) you are about to read is a mix of memoir, neurological case stories, and reflections on life, death and the mind.

In short and long passages, he does all that and more.

Broks' shares his grief following his wife's death in PART ONE: A GRIEF OBSERVED, meandering through nonlinear memories, fantasy and myth, and talking points of his trade. (He mentions Julian Jaynes, whose Origin of Consciousness is on my to-read list, nudging the book up a notch or two closer to "eventual".) The grief is palpable.

In PART TWO: A THOUSAND RED BUTTERFLIES, Broks delves more into his trade, musing much on the nature of consciousness between scientific research and theory and philosophical explorations. I kept having to set the book aside and digest his thoughts. One section prompted a mental WTH? and given that in his prologue he said that facts sit alongside fiction and that he thought the fictional elements were easily identified, I'm not sure if he was serious that not all humans are sentient - at least, that's what a colleague discovered in that particular story (although...there was considerable evidence of such in 2016 and since, but that would make his 10% far too low...) I won't spoil where the title of this second part comes from...you'll have to find that out yourself. I admit that I was, because I am by nature, less enamored of the philosophy elements, but the stories are still good anyway.

Broks recommends reading the first chapters first and the last chapters last and the rest can be skipped around. I imagine that would work for some. I chose to read them in the order presented, and in the last section PART THREE: INTO THE LABYRINTH he mixes more myth and fantasy into his reality. He relives some final days again. Cathartic. And his concept of consciousness congeals here. The pace increases until his coda.

I enjoyed this the more I read. On one hand outside my wheelhouse and life experience. On the other, appealing to my scientific curiosity. I might have to look up Mr. Borks' other work, but he left me with three other book recommendations that I really want to find and read first. Meanwhile, I expect to reread this again soon.

[Beauregard Bottomley · Rating 4 out of 5]

Does life have meaning if we die? The Being of the now that leads to consciousness is it the ‘hard problem’? Is there a ‘self’ over time, does the question even make sense or is the ship of Theseus not a paradox. Is my partner a Zombie with 15% probability as the author implies with a vignette? All of these kinds of questions are standard neuroscience ponderings, but they are told with finesse and nuance within this story and are always highly entertaining and at times laugh out loud funny.

The author starts the book with a quote from Albert Einstein on how a friend dying before Einstein really doesn’t matter because time is just an illusion and all that has happened and all that will happen has already happened within the block universe (you do believe in cause and effect? Or do you lean with Heraclites and we never cross the same river and all is ‘becoming’ not being?). Time is an illusion but it does not mean that consciousness is an illusion, as the author will say that for something to be an illusion it must be within the consciousness and if there is not consciousness there could be no illusion. Delusions are different, the author will say, a delusion is to know with certainty something about reality to be true but is not true. Certainty is the enemy of growth and stifles the discovery of meaning.

The author suggests that the origins of a thought that led to the awareness of the self could be as Jaynes speculates in the pseudoscientific ‘The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind’ with his schizophrenic explanation for self awareness and explaining the universality of a God, or the more elegant theory of Antonio Damasio with the more believable path way that involves homeostasis and entropy (the author mentioned one of Damsio’s book, but I would recommend this one ‘The Strange Order of Things’). The author will let the astute reader decide for themselves which theory is more credible.

Sometimes one must go down to a deep dark well in order to see the stars as Thales of Miletus did, ‘the darker the night, the brighter the stars’ and the more we can understand and the more meaning we find. As the author was reflecting on his life, he had realized that he had never applied his psychological expertise onto himself. Sometimes, it takes an event from the outside before one can reflect and understand the meaningful.

I’m fairly certain that the Wall Street Journal review that led me to this book used the word ‘nihilist’ to describe the author. That was an unfortunate use of the word. The author of this book is smart enough to not outsource his meaning to any book or unfounded authority or belief in fairy tales that aren’t supported by reason or rational thought. The author refutes the myth of Sisyphus and Camus’ only question of philosophy ‘should we kill ourselves’. That author points out that Camus does muddle the response, but the author knows that our meaning must lie within ourselves not outside of us. The real ‘absurdity’ that Camus alludes to is that we all know that we will die one day with certainty but we all act as if we won’t.

Nihilism ultimately means that there is no meaning in life and the author clearly knows that there is while not appealing to fairy tales for his support. Everyone has the option to search for what is true, what is ethically good and what is deserving of their time, and the author is using all the tools at his disposal in order to ‘awaken us from our dogmatic slumber’ and will make the reader think about problems in terms they almost certainly had never thought about previously. Sometimes, as illustrated with the author’s story, the ring of our deceased spouse that shows up out of the blue as a picture of the spouse falls from the closet, the event itself has no further meaning than the event itself. We impute purpose and meaning when the universe is just being itself and there is no reason beyond itself, pernicious teleology haunts us more than ghosts ever will.

[Chantal Lyons · Rating 4 out of 5]

I didn't enjoy this book as much as I expected to - but it's still a very good one, aside from some hiccups.

Broks is at his best in the autobiographic chapters, passages and moments, writing starkly, honestly, and bittersweet-ly. The rest of the book is given over, mostly, to neurological/philosophical ruminations on consciousness, and Greek mythology. Both have a reason for being in the book - Broks' career as a neuropsychologist aside - but for me, they often went on for too long in the same train, the Greek mythology particularly. Perhaps more erudite readers will be able to see various connections between all the Greek stories recounted and facets of Broks' life, or of human consciousness, but I certainly didn't spot them. The author clearly finds them very interesting, harking as they do from a time and a culture that he attributes as the definitive direction-setter for mankind's intellectual progress since, but honestly, I wanted to read more about people with fascinating brain disorders, not bulls copulating with women and Zeus spreading his seed everywhere.

There's some very weird moments too - the author explains at the beginning that some parts of the book are fictional or semi-fictional, but I didn't understand and didn't enjoy the hypothetical chapters where he is accosted by a drunk man (who usually joins him on a park bench or a train seat) who spouts ruminations about science and philosophy. If these were meant to be thought experiments, I would've preferred it if they'd stayed within the confines of Broks' head.

But, to make up for said weirdness, for me the book did contain some deep-cutting stabs of understanding, or realisation, or perhaps appreciations of alternative explanations I had never considered before. It was definitely missing an octopus, though. I'm surprised that Broks didn't include anything about this wonderful creature, given the distinct possibility that it has a "fragmented" consciousness shared amongst its main brain and its eight tentacles.

On the whole, I'm glad I read this book, but there were sections that tired or bored me - know what you're getting into!

[Naimul Arif · Rating 3 out of 5]

বইটি মূলতঃ লেখকের স্ত্রী ক্যান্সারে মারা যাবার পর লিখেছেন লেখক। লেখক পেশায় নিউরোসাইকোলজিস্ট। জীবন, মৃত্যু, চেতনা ইত্যাদি বিষয়কে নিউরোসাইকোলজিস্ট এর দৃষ্টিকোণ থেকে লিখেছেন তিনি।
বইটি স্ত্রীর মৃত্যুতে কাতর ব্যক্তির এলোমেলো লেখনির বহিঃপ্রকাশ বলে আমার মনে হয়েছে। ছোট ছোট আর্টিক্যালগুলো পড়তে খারাপ লাগে নি, কিন্তু সবকিছু একত্রে একটা বড় ধারণা দিতে পুরোপুরি সফল হয় নি। এটা অবশ্য পাঠক হিসেবে আমরা ব্যর্থতাও হতে পারে কারণ আমি ইংরেজি পড়তে দুর্বল এবং বইটি আমি তিন বছরেরও অধিক সময় নিয়ে পড়েছি।

[Charlie · Rating 5 out of 5]

A really innovative book about the nature of consciousness. Rather than just try to answer the question of consciousness directly, Broks uses illustrations from different sources to touch on the answer from many angles. It is at one time both biological, cultural, personal and individual. It is one thing to experience it, and another to describe it or define it. It could be described differently at different times and places and life stages. It is the subject of philosophical discourse.

Broks is, by profession, a neuroscientist. He is therefore able to tell us something of the biology of consciousness with illustrations relating his work and to some of his patients. Since his wife died he has considered the religious and philosophical nature of consciousness, the way it changes from conception to adulthood and whether, and in what ways, it might persist after death. But there are longer time scales to consider. How has consciousness in Man developed with the species? Is it related to language? What can Greek myth and legend tell us about the way our ancestors thought on the subject?

Brok skilfully twines together strands from myth, legend, personal anecdote, philosophy, neurobiology, developmental biology and psychology to give us an answer which is much greater than the sum of the parts.

I found it an intriguing and riveting read. I was left with almost more to think about after the book was done than before I started. But that is good. That is the nature of consciousness.

[BookeryBliss · Rating 2 out of 5]

The idea of weaving mythology, fiction, nonfiction and clinical study notes is an intriguing one, especially when it comes to the mind and consciousness, but I failed to grasp the message Brok was trying to portray which made it difficult to read. The shifts from one topic to another or one theory to another did not transition well; like rambling multiple topics with no direct purpose. I kept thinking that I was going to learn more, feel more, or ponder something deep and moving.... but in the end, it all fell flat to me.

I think this book is a good example of the saying, “jack of all trades but the master of none.”
When viewed as a memoir, the stale clinical points takes away the emotion. When viewed scientifically, the mythology gets lost. Each point was decently done, but the overall meaning was missed; at least, to me anyway. I did not feel entertained, enlightened, educated, or moved..... I simply felt nothing when I finished this book. There were times where I was intrigued and wanted to know more about the subject he was speaking of, but he never gave enough detail or explanation to fully satisfy the curiosity I might have had. Maybe someone else is able to see a crucial piece that I somehow missed when reading this book.


*I received this book from Penguin Random House in exchange for an honest review. This review is entirely my own and in no way affiliated with the author or Publishing company.*

[Brann · Rating 3 out of 5]

Maybe should have given this a 4. Overall I really enjoyed the book.

Very interesting discussions on a variety of topics related to neuropsychology and the overlapping philosophy of mind and consciousness, which is intertwined with some Greek mythology and the author’s personal narratives and reflections on life, love, impermanence, coincidence, grief, and finding a sense of satisfaction and coexistence with many of humans’ most fundamental but perhaps most unanswerable questions about the nature of the universe/their existence.

Having said that, the book doesn’t get too, too deep in any one of those areas, and it might be more accurate that it glides across them. The author comes with a heavy science background, which keeps the writing pretty grounded, for better or worse depending on what you’re looking for I suppose.

Three stars, I think, because some parts of the book were more hit or miss in terms of my desire to keep turning the pages. But the more enjoyable parts collectively made the whole book worth pushing through and finishing.

[Cathy Stapleton · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book started out a little strange and hard to connect with but wrapping his story and experience into his explanation he is proposing as a way to view consciousness or existence was interesting and a little unsettling. I think therefore I am. I feel therefore I know. But do you? What plane of existence am I on? Do I stay for the beer and miss the train? Definitely makes you think, using all the bubbly mush in between my ears hurts a little🤪thanks for the new terrifying perspective.

[Colin · Rating 4 out of 5]

I very much enjoyed a good deal of this book. The science was interesting, and accessible, the philosophy bits not quite so much. The personal story of bereavement was quite moving, and the case-studies interesting too. Some other themes didn't appeal so much to me - the Greek mythology I prefer in more original form, but even those carried the narrative along quite briskly.

[Desi A · Rating 3 out of 5]

What an interesting and strange book. There were many odd elements in Brok's first book, and this one took the strange and really ran with them.

Really, this is centered around his experience of trying to make sense of his wife's illness and death in the context of his own understanding of consciousness and existence. It was fascinating, even if it was hard to follow at times.

[Becky Loader · Rating 3 out of 5]

Broks has written a rambling meditation on grief. Coping with the loss of his wife to cancer, he selects Greek myths, patient cases, musings, and intense scientific theorems to weave a blanket of therapeutic outpourings.

[a l e x a n d r a · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5

[Yvette · Rating 3 out of 5]

picked this up randomly in a book grocer during my march trip to melbourne because it was $12 for a hardcover and the blurb was intriguing. quite a poignant read - i enjoyed it.

[Angie Reisetter · Rating 3 out of 5]

Broks has crafted a nonfiction book with an unreliable narrator. He is exploring the line between reality and imagination, the world of dreams and hallucinations. His wife has passed away and he is dramatically rejecting magical thinking, spirituality, belief that she endures. He imagines confronting C.S. Lewis, that sentimental author of the grieving memoir, and telling him that he's weak, overemotional, and prone to believing magic acts. But Broks dreams in his wakeful state all too often to put before us a scientific treatise on neuropsychology. He tells us in the introduction that fiction will sit beside fact in his essays, but he assures us it will be obvious. It is not necessarily.

My primary complain is his exploration of Paolo Faraldo's Theory of Neuronal Relativity, because both the theorist and the theory are fictional, as is Broks' story of his colleague Lewys and his wife Ava. Broks tells the story of his colleague wrestling with and producing a test for consciousness. He claims that 10% of humans are in fact not sentient, not fully conscious, simply going through the motions of life but not truly living it. It's a harmless and intriguing philosophical idea, right? Well, philosophy zombies is an idea that's out there. But there's no test, there are few believers, and the idea is more than a little dangerous. Because Broks presents it as science, as in: "Lewys is a brilliant scientist. I can’t find fault with his work." I know he's playing a philosophical game, toying with what we'll believe of our fellow humans. But imagine those readers who don't know he's playing a game. They will learn that 10% of humans are, in fact, sub-human, empty shells without souls (to whatever extent they believe in souls in the first place). If you believe that, what won't you believe of 10% of the population? That their presence in our country is an infestation? that they are animals, not people? how do they deserve to be treated?

Broks has meticulously brought these ideas together. The paralysis upon waking that gives rise to waking dreams, the question of real hallucinations and subjective truths, the question of consciousness. He has a debate with the archangel Michael. He's wondering how the brain deals with grief, with loss. With the stabs of absence he feels when he remembers that his wife Kate is not beside him. It's a fascinating collection of essays and meditation. It's truth alongside fiction. Things that are true in essence though not in literal fact. It's quite beautiful. But it's not a new genre. We already have a word for beautiful explorations of reality that explore the edges of truth and fabrication. That word is Fiction. This is a beautiful work of fiction, and should be shelved as such. If it were described as fiction in the blurb, I would give it more stars. But the fact that the author and publisher both consider this nonfiction worries me. Hopefully only responsible readers will attempt this one. And hopefully they will enjoy it, because I did. Just... enjoy responsibly.

I got a copy to review from First to Read.

[Sarah · Rating 2 out of 5]

I got to read this book before its publication date due to the First to Read program hosted by Penguin Random House which gives readers digital galleys to read and review!
I just want to preface this review by saying it's very rare for me to not finish a book. Unfortunately, The Darker the Night, The Brighter the Stars by Paul Broks was one of those rare books. One has to be impressed by how daunting of a task Broks took on when deciding to write a book focusing on the human consciousness, however, being an individual with very little knowledge on the theories of human consciousness, I frequently got lost in what felt like endless rambling. The book frequently shifts topic, even during the duration of a short chapter, oscillating from topics such as cancer to Greek mythology to neuropsychologist friends of Broks, making the thoughts remarkably hard to follow and learn from. As opposed to feeling like a conversation with the reader, The Darker the Night, The Brighter the Stars feels like a forced lecture for a class you didn't take the prerequisites for. I also felt as though the drawings scattered throughout the book, although beautiful, added very little and at often points simply confused me more. I really wanted to enjoy this book and perhaps somebody who is more knowledgeable in how the brain works would, but it was simply not my cup of tea.
For this review and more, check out my instagram:
https://www.instagram.com/eventually....

[Nada · Rating 3 out of 5]

Loss and grief is an individual process. It is unique to every person and to every situation. The Darker the Night, The Brighter the Stars: A Neuropsychologist's Odyssey Through Consciousness is Paul Borks' journey - not a literal description of the "life" aspects of that journey but rather a mental and emotional journey put on paper. An interesting addition to the books about grief.

Read my complete review at http://www.memoriesfrombooks.com/2018...

Reviewed for Penguin First to Read program.

[Sam Law · Rating 2 out of 5]

Summary:

Neuropsychologist Paul Broks lost his wife to cancer.  This book is part-memoir, part-philosophy, and is divided into three main sections, namely A Grief Observed, A Thousand Red Butterflies, and Into The Labyrinth.

Read More Book Reviews on my blog It's Good To Read

Plot:

This is a book that is hard to review. Not because the content was overly intellectual, opaquely written or inaccessible to the mere mortal such as myself, but because it is such a mix that makes it hard to define. You have Greek myths, anonymised real-life case stories, fact, fiction, science and philosophy.  In fairness, the author (reluctantly) warns us of his approach in the prologue.

Paul Broks clearly is in grief over the loss of his wife, Kate. Essentially, however, this book seems to be a release of sorts for him. Her death gave greater impetus to the probings he was already undertaking, into Life, the Universe and everything (comment if you know that one!). I didn’t get any sense of the man behind the clinician, or any of the emotion he must have felt. From that perspective, his Stoic world-view excelled.

The author is a distinguished neuropsychologist, and approaches his grief with a studied detachment. He examines assumptions he previously relied on, and even gets quasi-Descartian on some of his professional colleagues.

The book does meander. It gives deep insights into his own thought processes, and is a round-about map of the journey Broks took following Kate’s demise. However, he shifts from neuro cases, to fantasy discussions with CS Lewis, to personal philosophical ramblings.

The main thrust of the book, for me, seems to be his wanting to define the sense of the individual – what am I? Am I more than Me? Do thoughts have weight? God gets a few mentions, though this is not in any way a religious book. Broks gets no comfort from God, nor from his atheistic way of thinking.

Broks tries to think his way through and around things, looking for meaning, but I don’t think he can find a definitive answer, other than when we are gone, there is no ghost in the machine that lives on, but rather it is how you lived and loved that informs that life. He believes a life that doubts, questions then reasons is the good life, and we should seek to know ourselves.

What I Liked:

- Chapters by and large are short, which facilitates quick reading, and also re-reading.
- The variety of topics mentioned was very wide.

What I Didn’t Like:

- The fantasy stories undermined the book, as I found them necessarily contrived, and didn’t really add to the story, except to show this novel up as a contrast to how Lewis wrote of his own wife’s death.
- There’s no discernible structure to it, and that did grate after a while. Yes – he alluded to it in the prologue, but the book should have been renamed to Meditations on the Mind, or something. Very little to do with grief per se.
- The clinical, cold-eyed approach didn’t suit me. I prefer the more human style of When Breath Becomes Air, by Paul Kalanithi.

Overall:

This book will appeal to those who want long and winding discussions on great themes, but which ultimately boil down to your own personal viewpoint. There is a lot of good stuff in this book, and Broks is clearly well-read. A lot of the writing will appeal to the philosophers out there, but most of us do not (want to) take the time to dive that deep – life (and reading!!!) happens in the interim.

It is a good reference book, and has definite merits, but not a light read.

Acknowledgements:

My thanks to Penguin First To Read and the author for a free copy, in return for an honest and objective review.

[Anais Chartschenko · Rating 5 out of 5]

On my crowded bookshelf nestled between novels and Vaccai vocal exercise books, is one of my favourite books of all, Into the Silent Land: Travels in Neuropsychology. It’s one I’ve read time and again, gotten tea stains on (I am the worst), and as much as some of my more spiritually minded friends have found his assertions depressing, I cheered.
Yes! I am a chunk of meat! And I make stories! It really couldn’t get better than that. How wonderful to have your perspective validated! It’s great. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, I tend to remember. And read those books again. And drink my tea over them. When they send me into research spirals, so much the better.
So, I was naturally excited to hear Broks was releasing another book. My cupboards are well stocked with tea, I have permanent insomnia... I was ready to dive into his observations and categorically pull them apart at the seams, seeing what I agree with and what I can research for... years, I guess. It’s brain science.
When I found out the subject matter- his memoir about grief mixed in with the brain stuff I was in for, I was both sad for him (I’ve never experienced a spouse’s death, and I can’t begin to comprehend the loss) and grateful he wrote a book like that. There are a lot of books- and people, really, that claim everything happens for a reason, and there is an afterlife. We need more stories about getting on with life when there is no afterlife to soothe the pain. At least I do.
The Darker the Night, the Brighter the Stars examines consciousness, one of my favourite subjects. It was a joy to read his opinions about theories I’ve fussed over (like the bicameral mind), and also ones I’ve never heard of until his book. I’ve found that some things are best enjoyed through books so you don’t bore your friends to death… If you are interested in thinking about thoughts, here’s the book for you.

[ken · Rating 4 out of 5]

I took copious notes from this beautiful book, mostly of the literary references to Greek myth, but also of neuro/psychology terms and theories because it excites me, thinking of talking about these things to my psych nerd of a partner. The question, What is the point of living? followed by, How best to live? will haunt me for the rest. Also, there's a push to make me read Camus, and I'm just hoping it won't make me spiral.

Without this text, I don't know how I would have encountered things like, Capgras Delusion Syndrome, Cotard's Syndrome, and a variety of neuropsychological concerns. I didn't even know I'm all that into neuropsychology, at least, not until this book explores the connection of the mind and the self. I'm sure there's a lot of books expounding on that; it just doesn't express it under the framework of grief.

All I can really say is that, when I first started reading this in a bubble tea shop while waiting for my brother to finish getting a massage, I got too choked up after reading the prologue and the first few pages of chapter one. Why? I don't know. But it might have to do with the realization over the fact that my grief over my father's death has to do with my mother losing her husband as opposed to me losing my father. Weird, right?

[Suzanne Pender · Rating 3 out of 5]

Reflections from a neuropsychologist as he reflects on consciousness after his wife’s passing. Some chapters were fascinating, some less so. It was really a hodge-podge of fact, theory, personal reflection, autobiography. I was fascinated that Buzz Aldrin celebrated communion (wine and wafer!) after arriving at the moon, and that his mother (maiden name of Moon) died by suicide the year before his arrival, in part due to her fear that his mission would negatively affect his life. My favorite passage:

“It takes roughly seven billion billion billion atoms to build a 70kg human… The bulk (93 percent) is oxygen, carbon and hydrogen, with nitrogen, calcium and phosphorus atoms accounting for the remaining 7 percent. Hydrogen has been around since the Big Bang, but the other elements are spewed out from the fusion factories of dying stars. Atoms get recycled. your atoms were once the atoms of other objects and people. You contain atoms that once were the atoms of birds and trees, oceans and clouds. It is statistically almost certain that, in the course of your life, you will ingest atoms once breathed by Hitler and Buddha, Newton and Socrates, atoms that once formed the body and blood of Christ.” wow.

[Holly Barker · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was interested in reading this book because of my response to Sager's first book, Final Girls. Specifically, I didn't much enjoy the first half of final girls because I felt the description told me the entire plot. Only after the halfway mark did I enjoy that book. So, I read this book without reading the publisher's description and am somewhat disappointed. Reading the description after having read the book, I see again that it gives away far too much of the plot. My conclusion is that Sager doesn't really provide much plot, just a lot of writing to prop up what little plot is there, smoke in mirrors to try to get you thinking along the wrong path, and a twist ending that you never saw coming because it was never offered. Ultimately, it felt a bit too much like melodrama to me. I mostly enjoyed reading this second book, but I do not think I will reach for this author in the future. I received an advanced copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.

[Rianna Stahl · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was sad, but beautiful. It makes for fascinating literature in how it merges the author's understanding of neuroscience and psychology with philosophy and questions regarding the deeper meaning of existence, and the nature of life and death.

I would definitely read it again. As constructive criticism, it could be made clearer that the book weaves in and out of real experiences and theoretical situations as it explores ideas. Paul writes about that at the beginning of the book, and of course this was probably a more emotional piece for him to write, but it does drift in and out more than I expected, and sometimes the examples he uses are very similar to when he's discussing real events, so it can be hard to distinguish between the two.

All in all, thoroughly recommend it to anyone with interest in the above topics.

[John Williams · Rating 5 out of 5]

equal parts memoir and meditation on the author's loss of his wife to cancer, this book is ostensibly an investigation of consciousness. But it reads like a great conversation with a stranger in a pub and becomes something much more. the mechanism of consciousness, the history of myth, the role of archetype in human concept of Self all combine in Paul Broks very interesting book.
a nihilist, by his own definition, this book in many ways is a statement of exactly what does a nihilist believe? what is the role of Faith, love, hope ? if life is meaningless why is it still so meaningful?
my favorite books force me to find answers to questions i never considered and open my mind to new branches of thought. this book did exactly that throughout and when the author finally arrives at his ultimate maxim, love outlives hope, i felt i had been given a gift far greater than one simple book.

[Adam Chamberlain · Rating 5 out of 5]

"We spend our lives striving for goals seldom attained, and even when we achieve them we are all too often disappointed. We are shipwrecked in the end, and enter the harbour stripped of masts and rigging. 'Life was never anything more than a present moment always vanishing; and now it is over.' By then it's all the same whether we've been happy or miserable, because life is behind us, all our days, all our joys and sorrows, utterly erased."

A profound book that mixes neuropsychology, myth, and metaphysics in its far-reaching exploration of grief and the human condition. Carefully constructed and beautifully written, I have found much of its content both revelatory and comforting. A book I know I shall return to throughout my life.

[Susan Olesen · Rating 2 out of 5]

Part memoir, part neurology case studies (not nearly enough for me), reflections on life, death, and the mind, and a lot of Greek Mythology thrown in. Not what I expected, and far too much philosophy for me. Broks loses his wife to cancer, and reflects on human consciousness while dealing with it. While interesting - the debates on consciousness vs unconsciousness is particularly intriguing and I'd love to shoot the author a few questions but cannot find an email - overall, I'm not sure what to think of the book. Weird but good? But I guess that's philosophy in general. I'm into psychology, not philosophy. If you like philosophy, you'd probably enjoy it.

[Anthony Sgueglia · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is one of the most fascinating books I've ever read. I found it in the laundry room of my apartment building and picked it up by chance. Within 20 pages I could tell that I was in for something special. Broks has a great way of casually explaining really interesting concepts from neuropsychology, and weaving them in between stories from his life and philosophy. He discusses consciousness and what it means to be human, and our place in the universe in a really accessible way. I was blown away by every chapter. A really great read, there was no question in rating this a five. I will read it again some day.

[Eden Rayz · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is my second read of this one. I find it a really enjoyable read, though there are glaring contradictions and large gaps. Is it fiction or non? It seems to shuffle between the two, which I don’t have much of a problem with. Not all has to be clear.

Of the items that confuse me most, one is the chapter The Consciousness Club. It references the work of Paolo Faraldo, who I cannot find a record of anywhere.

Another confusing item is the long overarching story of Kate, his “wife” who dies. There’s no record of her online.

Is Broks writing his alternate history? It would seem so. I keep coming back to this book, there’s something comforting about it!