The reader can see that Sacks, who has been practicing neurology for 40 years, is torn between the “old-fashioned” path of observation and the new-fangled, high-tech approach: He knows that he needs to take heed of the latter, but his heart lies with the former. In it, Sacks explains that he wants to convey the insights gleaned from the “enormous and rapidly growing body of work on the neural underpinnings of musical perception and imagery, and the complex and often bizarre disorders to which these are prone.” He also stresses the importance of “the simple art of observation” and “the richness of the human context.” He wants to combine “observation and description with the latest in technology,” he says, and to imaginatively enter into the experience of his patients and subjects. The preface gives a good idea of what the book will deliver. He is neither self-conscious nor self-promoting.

Sacks’ voice throughout is steady and erudite but never pontifical. The photograph of him on the cover of the book-which shows him wearing headphones, eyes closed, clearly enchanted as he listens to Alfred Brendel perform Beethoven’s Pathetique Sonata-makes a positive impression that is borne out by the contents of the book. He richly documents his own life in the book and reveals highly personal experiences. Sacks himself is the best part of Musicophilia. And I confess to feeling a little guilty reporting that my reactions to the book are mixed. So I had high expectations of Musicophilia, the latest offering from neurologist and prolific author Oliver Sacks. Music and the brain are both endlessly fascinating subjects, and as a neuroscientist specialising in auditory learning and memory, I find them especially intriguing. Weinberger reviews the latest work of Oliver Sacks on music.

Musicophilia book