Henry Marsh's memoir Do No Harm (reviewed here) was one of my books of the year for 2017, so I was very eager to read Admissions: A Life in Brain Surgery, a further set of the eminent neurosurgeon's reflections on his career written now from the perspective of retirement. The second volume does not disappoint.
Once more Mr. Marsh writes with great candour and self-awareness, whether he is revisiting his mistakes, discussing painful episodes in his personal life, or contemplating old age and death. He admits fallibility - and lectures other doctors on the subject, recognises that we learn from our failures while success can make us complacent, and describes how hard it is, as a surgeon, to ask for help "as bravery and self-reliance are seen as such an important part of the job".
The portrait which emerges from the internal scrutiny is a fascinating one. Over 30-odd years in a complex and dangerous field of medicine he appears to have achieved a balance between empathy and detachment, between confidence and self-importance; he has learned to observe without judging, grasped that all knowledge is provisional, and that in dealing in probabilities rather than certainties, decision-making is the hardest part of the job.
Though retired from his London hospital consultancy he continues to work in Ukraine and Nepal, supervising surgery, teaching, and lecturing. Outwith the operating theatre and the classroom we see a man who is still obsessive, competitive, and ambitious, keeping bees, working with wood to a very high degree of proficiency, and renovating a derelict cottage single-handed. Though still acutely aware of his misjudgements and shortcomings, he seems to bring to all he does conviction, depth of thought, and great skill and knowledge, along with "the slightly fanatical determination and attention to detail that neurosurgery requires". This gives his book a profundity and an integrity which matches that of Do No Harm and makes them both thought-provoking, compulsive and deeply satisfying reading.
I am not sure that my stomach will allow me to read either of these.
Posted by: Toffeeapple | 05 January 2018 at 04:42 PM
Inevitably, among the cases he discusses are very sad and harrowing ones. He deals with them in a measured, non-gratuitous way - if that helps - but it is of course sobering reading.
Posted by: Cornflower | 05 January 2018 at 05:28 PM