What a magnificent book Oliver Sacks’ On The Move is, and how fitting that after almost four hundred pages about his life and his writing, Sacks ends in the present tense. We can almost trick ourselves that he is still alive, still writing, still absorbed in all his far-ranging explorations of how the mind works and doesn’t work. And that after it all, he is someone who simply tells stories: “I am a storyteller, for better or worse. I suspect that a feeling for stories, for narrative, is a universal human disposition, going with our powers of language, consciousness of self, and autobiographical memory.
I need to write more about On The Move, but I myself will be on the move: in a few hours I will be leaving on an epic trip to Europe with my grown-up kids and my husband, the first time we will all be together on a trip abroad. And so I will be away from posting for a while, but I won’t be away from reading. Besides a French-English dictionary which I intend to consult fairly regularly, I have some Joan Didion and Meghan Daum in my backpack. I’m going off road here, deviating from my list of ten, so I should have some interesting things to write about when I come back.
I hope everybody is surviving the summer heat, and that reading is helping all to stay cool. I will have more soon!