Von dem Buch Musicophilia Tales of Music and the Brain haben wir 3 gleiche oder sehr ähnliche Ausgaben identifiziert!
Falls Sie nur an einem bestimmten Exempar interessiert sind, können Sie aus der folgenden Liste jenes wählen, an dem Sie interessiert sind:
100%: Sacks, Oliver: Musicophilia Tales of Music and the Brain (ISBN: 9781400033539) 2008, in Englisch.Nur diese Ausgabe anzeigen…
85%: Sacks, Oliver: Musicophilia. Tales of Music and the Brain. Revised and expanded. (ISBN: 9780330418386) 2008, in Englisch, Taschenbuch.Nur diese Ausgabe anzeigen…
65%: Sacks, Oliver: Musicophilia: Tales of Music and the Brain (ISBN: 9780330471138) 2008, in Englisch, Taschenbuch.Nur diese Ausgabe anzeigen…
Musicophilia Tales of Music and the Brain - 8 Angebote vergleichen
| Preise | 2019 | 2020 | 2021 | 2022 | 2023 |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Schnitt | Fr. 14.49 (€ 14.85)¹ | Fr. 16.10 (€ 16.50)¹ | Fr. 15.51 (€ 15.89)¹ | Fr. 17.08 (€ 17.50)¹ | Fr. 6.71 (€ 6.88)¹ |
| Nachfrage |
1
Symbolbild
Musicophilia: Tales of Music and the Brain, Revised and Expanded Edition (2008)
~EN PB US RPISBN: 9781400033539 bzw. 1400033535, vermutlich in Englisch, Vintage, Taschenbuch, gebraucht, guter Zustand, Nachdruck.
Lieferung aus: Neuseeland, Versandkosten nach: CHE.
Von Händler/Antiquariat, bookexpress.co.nz.
Vintage. Very Good. 5.2 x 1.13 x 7.98 inches. Paperback. 2008. 425 pages. Revised and Expanded With the same trademark comp assion and erudition he brought to The Man Who Mistook His Wife f or a Hat, Oliver Sacks explores the place music occupies in the b rain and how it affects the human condition. In Musicophilia, he shows us a variety of what he calls musical misalignments. Among them: a man struck by lightning who suddenly desires to become a pianist at the age of forty-two; an entire group of children with Williams syndrome, who are hypermusical from birth; people with amusia, to whom a symphony sounds like the clattering of pots and pans; and a man whose memory spans only seven seconds-for everyt hing but music. Illuminating, inspiring, and utterly unforgettabl e, Musicophilia is Oliver Sacks' latest masterpiece. Editorial R eviews Review Powerful and compassionate. . . . A book that not only contributes to our understanding of the elusive magic of mus ic but also illuminates the strange workings, and misfirings, of the human mind. -The New York TimesCurious, cultured, caring. . . . Musicophilia allows readers to join Sacks where he is most ali ve, amid melodies and with his patients. -The Washington Post Boo k WorldSacks has an expert bedside manner: informed but humble, s elf-questioning, literary without being self-conscious.-Los Angel es TimesSacks spins one fascinating tale after another to show wh at happens when music and the brain mix it up. -NewsweekSacks onc e again examines the many mysteries of a fascinating subject. -Th e Seattle Times About the Author Oliver Sacks was a physician, writer, and professor of neurology. Born in London in 1933, he mo ved to New York City in 1965, where he launched his medical caree r and began writing case studies of his patients. Called the poet laureate of medicine by The New York Times, Sacks is the author of more than a dozen books, including The Man Who Mistook His Wif e for a Hat, Musicophilia, and Awakenings, which inspired an Osca r-nominated film and a play by Harold Pinter. He was the recipien t of many awards and honorary degrees, and was made a Commander o f the British Empire in 2008 for services to medicine. He died in 2015. www.oliversacks Excerpt. ® Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. A Bolt from the Blue: Sudden MusicophiliaTon y Cicoria was forty-two, very fit and robust, a former college fo otball player who had become a well-regarded orthopedic surgeon i n a small city in upstate New York. He was at a lakeside pavilion for a family gathering one fall afternoon. It was pleasant and b reezy, but he noticed a few storm clouds in the distance; it look ed like rain.He went to a pay phone outside the pavilion to make a quick call to his mother (this was in 1994, before the age of c ell phones). He still remembers every single second of what happe ned next: I was talking to my mother on the phone. There was a li ttle bit of rain, thunder in the distance. My mother hung up. The phone was a foot away from where I was standing when I got struc k. I remember a flash of light coming out of the phone. It hit me in the face. Next thing I remember, I was flying backwards.Then- he seemed to hesitate before telling me this-I was flying forward s. Bewildered. I looked around. I saw my own body on the ground. I said to myself, 'Oh shit, I'm dead.' I saw people converging on the body. I saw a woman-she had been standing waiting to use the phone right behind me-position herself over my body, give it CPR . . . . I floated up the stairs-my consciousness came with me. I saw my kids, had the realization that they would be okay. Then I was surrounded by a bluish-white light . . . an enormous feeling of well-being and peace. The highest and lowest points of my life raced by me. No emotion associated with these . . . pure thought , pure ecstasy. I had the perception of accelerating, being drawn up . . . there was speed and direction. Then, as I was saying to myself, 'This is the most glorious feeling I have ever had'-SLAM ! I was back.Dr. Cicoria knew he was back in his own body because he had pain-pain from the burns on his face and his left foot, w here the electrical charge had entered and exited his body-and, h e realized, only bodies have pain. He wanted to go back, he wante d to tell the woman to stop giving him CPR, to let him go; but it was too late-he was firmly back among the living. After a minute or two, when he could speak, he said, It's okay-I'm a doctor! Th e woman (she turned out to be an intensive-care-unit nurse) repli ed, A few minutes ago, you weren't.The police came and wanted to call an ambulance, but Cicoria refused, delirious. They took him home instead (it seemed to take hours), where he called his own d octor, a cardiologist. The cardiologist, when he saw him, thought Cicoria must have had a brief cardiac arrest, but could find not hing amiss with examination or EKG. With these things, you're ali ve or dead, the cardiologist remarked. He did not feel that Dr. C icoria would suffer any further consequences of this bizarre acci dent.Cicoria also consulted a neurologist-he was feeling sluggish (most unusual for him) and having some difficulties with his mem ory. He found himself forgetting the names of people he knew well . He was examined neurologically, had an EEG and an MRI. Again, n othing seemed amiss.A couple of weeks later, when his energy retu rned, Dr. Cicoria went back to work. There were still some linger ing memory problems-he occasionally forgot the names of rare dise ases or surgical procedures-but all his surgical skills were unim paired. In another two weeks, his memory problems disappeared, an d that, he thought, was the end of the matter.What then happened still fills Cicoria with amazement, even now, a dozen years later . Life had returned to normal, seemingly, when suddenly, over two or three days, there was this insatiable desire to listen to pia no music. This was completely out of keeping with anything in his past. He had had a few piano lessons as a boy, he said, but no r eal interest. He did not have a piano in his house. What music he did listen to tended to be rock music.With this sudden onset of craving for piano music, he began to buy recordings and became es pecially enamored of a Vladimir Ashkenazy recording of Chopin fav orites-the Military Polonaise, the Winter Wind Étude, the Black K ey Étude, the A-flat Polonaise, the B-flat Minor Scherzo. I loved them all, Tony said. I had the desire to play them. I ordered al l the sheet music. At this point, one of our babysitters asked if she could store her piano in our house-so now, just when I crave d one, a piano arrived, a nice little upright. It suited me fine. I could hardly read the music, could barely play, but I started to teach myself. It had been more than thirty years since the few piano lessons of his boyhood, and his fingers seemed stiff and a wkward.And then, on the heels of this sudden desire for piano mus ic, Cicoria started to hear music in his head. The first time, he said, it was in a dream. I was in a tux, onstage; I was playing something I had written. I woke up, startled, and the music was s till in my head. I jumped out of bed, started trying to write dow n as much of it as I could remember. But I hardly knew how to not ate what I heard. This was not too successful-he had never tried to write or notate music before. But whenever he sat down at the piano to work on the Chopin, his own music would come and take me over. It had a very powerful presence.I was not quite sure what to make of this peremptory music, which would intrude almost irre sistibly and overwhelm him. Was he having musical hallucinations? No, Dr. Cicoria said, they were not hallucinations-inspiration w as a more apt word. The music was there, deep inside him-or somew here-and all he had to do was let it come to him. It's like a fre quency, a radio band. If I open myself up, it comes. I want to sa y, 'It comes from heaven,' as Mozart said.His music is ceaseless. It never runs dry, he continued. If anything, I have to turn it off.Now he had to wrestle not just with learning to play the Chop in, but to give form to the music continually running in his head , to try it out on the piano, to get it on manuscript paper. It w as a terrible struggle, he said. I would get up at four in the mo rning and play till I went to work, and when I got home from work I was at the piano all evening. My wife was not really pleased. I was possessed.In the third month after being struck by lightnin g, then, Cicoria-once an easygoing, genial family man, almost ind ifferent to music-was inspired, even possessed, by music, and sca rcely had time for anything else. It began to dawn on him that pe rhaps he had been saved for a special reason. I came to think, he said, that the only reason I had been allowed to survive was the music. I asked him whether he had been a religious man before th e lightning. He had been raised Catholic, he said, but had never been particularly observant; he had some unorthodox beliefs, too, such as in reincarnation.He himself, he grew to think, had had a sort of reincarnation, had been transformed and given a special gift, a mission, to tune in to the music that he called, half met aphorically, the music from heaven. This came, often, in an absol ute torrent of notes with no breaks, no rests, between them, and he would have to give it shape and form. (As he said this, I thou ght of Caedmon, the seventh-century Anglo-Saxon poet, an illitera te goatherd who, it was said, had received the art of song in a d ream one night, and spent the rest of his life praising God and c reation in hymns and poems.)Cicoria continued to work on his pian o playing and his compositions. He got books on notation, and soo n realized that he needed a music teacher. He would travel to con certs by his favorite performers but had nothing to do with music al friends in his own town or musical activities there. This was a solitary pursuit, between himself and his muse.I asked whether he had experienced other changes since the lightning strike-a new appreciation of art, perhaps, different taste in reading, new be liefs? Cicoria said he had become very spiritual since his near-d eath experience. He had started to read every book he could find about near-death experiences and about lightning strikes. And he had got a whole library on Tesla, as well as anything on the terr ible and beautiful power of high-voltage electricity. He felt he could sometimes see auras of light or energy around people's bodi es-he had never seen this before the lightning bolt.Some years pa ssed, and Cicoria's new life, his inspiration, never deserted him for a moment. He continued to work full-time as a surgeon, but h is heart and mind now centered on music. He got divorced in 2004, and the same year had a fearful motorcycle accident. He had no m emory of this, but his Harley was struck by another vehicle, and he was found in a ditch, unconscious and badly injured, with brok en bones, a ruptured spleen, a perforated lung, cardiac contusion s, and, despite his helmet, head injuries. In spite of all this, he made a complete recovery and was back at work in two months. N either the accident nor his head injury nor his divorce seemed to have made any difference to his passion for playing and composin g music.I have never met another person with a story like Tony Ci coria's, but I have occasionally had patients with a similar sudd en onset of musical or artistic interests-including Salimah M., a research chemist. In her early forties, Salimah started to have brief periods, lasting a minute or less, in which she would get a strange feeling-sometimes a sense that she was on a beach that s he had once known, while at the same time being perfectly conscio us of her current surroundings and able to continue a conversatio n, or drive a car, or do whatever she had been doing. Occasionall y these episodes were accompanied by a sour taste in the mouth. S he noticed these strange occurrences, but did not think of them a s having any neurological significance. It was only when she had a grand mal seizure in the summer of 2003 that she went to a neur ologist and was given brain scans, which revealed a large tumor i n her right temporal lobe. This had been the cause of her strange episodes, which were now realized to be temporal lobe seizures. The tumor, her doctors felt, was malignant (though it was probabl y an oligodendroglioma, of relatively low malignancy) and needed to be removed. Salimah wondered if she had been given a death sen tence and was fearful of the operation and its possible consequen ces; she and her husband had been told that there might be some p ersonality changes following it. But in the event, the surgery we nt well, most of the tumor was removed, and after a period of con valescence, Salimah was able to return to her work as a chemist.S he had been a fairly reserved woman before the surgery, who would occasionally be annoyed or preoccupied by small things like dust or untidiness; her husband said she was sometimes obsessive abou t jobs that needed to be done around the house. But now, after th e surgery, Salimah seemed unperturbed by such domestic matters. S he had become, in the idiosyncratic words of her husband (English was not their first language), a happy cat. She was, he declared , a joyologist.Salimah's new cheerfulness was apparent at work. S he had worked in the same laboratory for fifteen years and had al ways been admired for her intelligence and dedication. But now, w hile losing none of this professional competence, she seemed a mu ch warmer person, keenly sympathetic and interested in the lives and feelings of her co-workers. Where before, in a colleague's wo rds, she had been much more into herself, she now became the conf idante and social center of the entire lab.At home, too, she shed some of her Marie Curie-like, work-oriented personality. She per mitted herself time off from her thinking, her equations, and bec ame more interested in going to movies or parties, living it up a bit. And a new love, a new passion, entered her life. She had be en vaguely musical, in her own words, as a girl, had played the p iano a little, but music had never played any great part in her l ife. Now it was different. She longed to hear music, to go to con certs, to listen to classical music on the radio or on CDs. She c ould be moved to rapture or tears by music which had carried no s pecial feeling for her before. She became addicted to her car rad io, which she would listen to while driving to work. A colleague who happened to pass her on the road to the lab said that the mus ic on her radio was incredibly loud-he could hear it a quarter of a mile away. Salimah, in her convertible, was entertaining the w hole freeway.Like Tony Cicoria, Salimah showed a drastic transfor mation from being only vaguely interested in music to being passi onately excited by music and in continual need of it. And with bo th of them, there were other, more general changes, too-a surge o f emotionality, as if emotions of every sort were being stimulate d or released. In Salimah's words, What happened after the surger y-I felt reborn. That changed my outlook on life and made me appr eciate every minute of it. Excerpt. ® Reprinted by permission. A ll rights reserved. A Bolt from the Blue: Sudden MusicophiliaTony Cicoria was forty-two, very fit and robust, a former college foo tball player who had become a well-regarded orthopedic surgeon in a small city in upstate New York. He was at a lakeside pavilion for a family gathering one fall afternoon. It was pleasant and br eezy, but he noticed a few storm clouds in the distance; it looke d like rain.He went to a pay phone outside the pavilion to make a quick call to his mother (this was in 1994, before the age of ce ll phones). He still remembers every single second of what happen ed next: I was talking to my mother on the phone. There was a lit tle bit of rain, thunder in the distance. My mother hung up. The phone was a foot away from where I was standing when I got struck . I remember a flash of light coming out of the phone. It hit me in the face. Next thing I remember, I was flying backwards.Then-h e seemed to hesitate before telling me this-I was flying forwards . Bewildered. I looked around. I saw my own body on the ground. I said to myself, 'Oh shit, I'm dead.' I saw people converging on the body. I saw a woman-she had been standing waiting to use the phone right behind me-position herself over my body, give it CPR. . . . I floated up the stairs-my consciousness came with me. I s aw my kids, had the realization that they would be okay. Then I w as surrounded by a bluish-white light . . . an enormous feeling o f well-being and peace. The highest and lowest points of my life raced by me. No emotion associated with these . . . pure thought, pure ecstasy. I had the perception of accelerating, being drawn up . . . there was speed and direction. Then, as I was saying to myself, 'This is the most glorious feeling I have ever had'-SLAM! I was back.Dr. Cicoria knew he was back in his own body because he had pain-pain from the burns on his face and his left foot, wh ere the electrical charge had entered and exited his body-and, he realized, only bodies have pain. He wanted to go back, he wanted to tell the woman to stop giving him CPR, to let him go; but it was too late-he was firmly back among the living. After a minute or two, when he could speak, he said, It's okay-I'm a doctor! The woman (she turned out to be an intensive-care-unit nurse) replie d, A few minutes ago, you weren't.The police came and wanted to c all an ambulance, but Cicoria refused, delirious. They took him h ome instead (it seemed to take hours), where he called his own do ctor, a cardiologist. The cardiologist, when he saw him, thought Cicoria must have had a brief cardiac arrest, but could find noth ing amiss with examination or EKG. With these things, you're aliv e or dead, the cardiologist remarked. He did not feel that Dr. Ci coria would suffer any further consequences of this bizarre accid ent.Cicoria also consulted a neurologist-he was feeling sluggish (most unusual for him) and having some difficulties with his memo ry. He found himself forgetting the names of people he knew well. He was examined neurologically, had an EEG and an MRI. Again, no thing seemed amiss.A couple of weeks later, when his energy retur ned, Dr. Cicoria went back to work. There were still some lingeri ng memory problems-he occasionally forgot the names of rare disea ses or surgical procedures-but all his surgical skills were unimp aired. In another two weeks, his memory problems disappeared, and that, he thought, was the end of the matter.What then happened s till fills Cicoria with amazement, even now, a dozen years later. Life had returned to normal, seemingly, when suddenly, over two or three days, there was this insatiable desire to listen to pian o music. This was completely out of keeping with anything in his past. He had had a few piano lessons as a boy, he said, but no re al interest. He did not have a piano in his house. What music he did listen to tended to be rock music.With this sudden onset of c raving for piano music, he began to buy recordings and became esp ecially enamored of a Vladimir Ashkenazy recording of Chopin favo rites-the Military Polonaise, the Winter Wind Étude, the Black Ke y Étude, the A-flat Polonaise, the B-flat Minor Scherzo. I loved them all, Tony said. I had the desire to play them. I ordered all the sheet music. At this point, one of our babysitters asked if she could store her piano in our house-so now, just when I craved one, a piano arrived, a nice little upright. It suited me fine. I could hardly read the music, could barely play, but I started t o teach myself. It had been more than thirty years since the few piano lessons of his boyhood, and his fingers seemed stiff and aw kward.And then, on the heels of this sudden desire for piano musi c, Cicoria started to hear music in his head. The first time, he said, it was in a dream. I was in a tux, onstage; I was playing s omething I had written. I woke up, startled, and the music was st ill in my head. I jumped out of bed, started trying to write down as much of it as I could remember. But I hardly knew how to nota te what I heard. This was not too successful-he had never tried t o write or notate music before. But whenever he sat down at the p iano to work on the Chopin, his own music would come and take me over. It had a very powerful presence.I was not quite sure what t o make of this peremptory music, which would intrude almost irres istibly and overwhelm him. Was he having musical hallucinations? No, Dr. Cicoria said, they were not hallucinations-inspiration wa s a more apt word. The music was there, deep inside him-or somewh ere-and all he had to do was let it come to him. It's like a freq uency, a radio band. If I open myself up, it comes. I want to say , 'It comes from heaven,' as Mozart said.His music is ceaseless. It never runs dry, he continued. If anything, I have to turn it o ff.Now he had to wrestle not just with learning to play the Chopi n, but to give form to the music continually running in his head, to try it out on the piano, to get it on manuscript paper. It wa s a terrible struggle, he said. I would get up at four in the mor ning and play till I went to work, and when I got home from work I was at the piano all evening. My wife was not really pleased. I was possessed.In the third month after being struck by lightning , then, Cicoria-once an easygoing, genial family man, almost indi fferent to music-was inspired, even possessed, by music, and scar cely had time for anything else. It began to dawn on him that per haps he had been saved for a special reason. I came to think, he said, that the only reason I had been allowed to survive was the music. I asked him whether he had been a religious man before the lightning. He had been raised Catholic, he said, but had never b een particularly observant; he had some unorthodox beliefs, too, such as in reincarnation.He himself, he grew to think, had had a sort of reincarnation, had been transformed and given a special g ift, a mission, to tune in to the music that he called, half meta phorically, the music from heaven. This came, often, in an absolu te torrent of notes with no breaks, no rests, between them, and h e would have to give it shape and form. (As he said this, I thoug ht of Caedmon, the seventh-century Anglo-Saxon poet, an illiterat e goatherd who, it was said, had received the art of song in a dr eam one night, and spent the rest of his life praising God and cr eation in hymns and poems.)Cicoria continued to work on his piano playing and his compositions. He got books on notation, and soon realized that he needed a music teacher. He would travel to conc erts by his favorite performers but had nothing to do with musica l friends in his own town or musical activities there. This was a solitary pursuit, between himself and his muse.I asked whether h e had experienced other changes since the lightning strike-a new appreciation of art, perhaps, different taste in reading, new bel iefs? Cicoria said he had become very spiritual since his near-de ath experience. He had started to read every book he could find a bout near-death experiences and about lightning strikes. And he h ad got a whole library on Tesla, as well as anything on the terri ble and beautiful power of high-voltage electricity. He felt he c ould sometimes see auras of light or energy around people's bodie s-he had never seen this before the lightning bolt.Some years pas sed, and Cicoria's new life, his inspiration, never deserted him for a moment. He continued to work full-time as a surgeon, but hi s heart and mind now centered on music. He got divorced in 2004, and the same year had a fearful motorcycle accident. He had no me mory of this, but his Harley was struck by another vehicle, and h e was found in a ditch, unconscious and badly injured, with broke n bones, a ruptured spleen, a perforated lung, cardiac contusions , and, despite his helmet, head injuries. In spite of all this, h e made a complete recovery and was back at work in two months. Ne ither the accident nor his head injury nor his divorce seemed to have made any difference to his passion for playing and composing music.I have never met another person with a story like Tony Cic oria's, but I have occasionally had patients with a similar sudde n onset of musical or artistic interests-including Salimah M., a research chemist. In her early forties, Salimah started to have b rief periods, lasting a minute or less, in which she would get a strange feeling-sometimes a sense that she was on a beach that sh e had once known, while at the same time being perfectly consciou s of her current surroundings and able to continue a conversation , or drive a car, or do whatever she had been doing. Occasionally these episodes were accompanied by a sour taste in the mouth. Sh e noticed these strange occurrences, but did not think of them as having any neurological significance. It was only when she had a grand mal seizure in the summer of 2003 that she went to a neuro logist and was given brain scans, which revealed a large tumor in her right temporal lobe. This had been the cause of her strange episodes, which were now realized to be temporal lobe seizures. T he tumor, her doctors felt, was malignant (though it was probably an oligodendroglioma, of relatively low malignancy) and needed t o be removed. Salimah wondered if she had been given a death sent ence and was fearful of the operation and its possible consequenc es; she and her husband had been told that there might be some pe rsonality changes following it. But in the event, the surgery wen t well, most of the tumor was removed, and after a period of conv alescence, Salimah was able to return to her work as a chemist.Sh e had been a fairly reserved woman before the surgery, who would occasionally be annoyed or preoccupied by small things like dust or untidiness; her husband said she was sometimes obsessive about jobs that needed to be done around the house. But now, after the surgery, Salimah seemed unperturbed by such domestic matters. Sh e had become, in the idiosyncratic words of her husband (English was not their first language), a happy cat. She was, he declared, a joyologist.Salimah's new cheerfulness was apparent at work. Sh e had worked in the same laboratory for fifteen years and had alw ays been admired for her intelligence and dedication. But now, wh ile losing none of this professional competence, she seemed a muc h warmer person, keenly sympathetic and interested in the lives a nd feelings of her co-workers. Where before, in a colleague's wor ds, she had been much more into herself, she now became the confi dante and social center of the entire lab.At home, too, she shed some of her Marie Curie-like, work-oriented personality. She perm itted herself time off from her thinking, her equations, and beca me more interested in going to movies or parties, living it up a bit. And a new love, a new passion, entered her life. She had bee n vaguely musical, in her own words, as a girl, had played the pi ano a little, but music had never played any great part in her li fe. Now it was different. She longed to hear music, to go to conc erts, to listen to classical music on the radio or on CDs. She co uld be moved to rapture or tears by music which had carried no sp ecial feeling for her before. She became addicted to her car radi o, which she would listen to while driving to work. A colleague w ho happened to pass her on the road to the lab said that the musi c on her radio was incredibly loud-he could hear it a quarter of a mile away. Salimah, in her convertible, was entertaining the wh ole freeway.Like Tony Cicoria, Salimah showed a drastic transform ation from being only vaguely interested in music to being passio nately excited by music and in continual need of it. And with bot h of them, there were other, more general changes, too-a surge of emotionality, as if emotions of every sort were being stimulated or released. In Salimah's words, What happened after the surgery -I felt reborn. That changed my outlook on life and made me appre ciate every minute of it. .
Von Händler/Antiquariat, bookexpress.co.nz.
Vintage. Very Good. 5.2 x 1.13 x 7.98 inches. Paperback. 2008. 425 pages. Revised and Expanded With the same trademark comp assion and erudition he brought to The Man Who Mistook His Wife f or a Hat, Oliver Sacks explores the place music occupies in the b rain and how it affects the human condition. In Musicophilia, he shows us a variety of what he calls musical misalignments. Among them: a man struck by lightning who suddenly desires to become a pianist at the age of forty-two; an entire group of children with Williams syndrome, who are hypermusical from birth; people with amusia, to whom a symphony sounds like the clattering of pots and pans; and a man whose memory spans only seven seconds-for everyt hing but music. Illuminating, inspiring, and utterly unforgettabl e, Musicophilia is Oliver Sacks' latest masterpiece. Editorial R eviews Review Powerful and compassionate. . . . A book that not only contributes to our understanding of the elusive magic of mus ic but also illuminates the strange workings, and misfirings, of the human mind. -The New York TimesCurious, cultured, caring. . . . Musicophilia allows readers to join Sacks where he is most ali ve, amid melodies and with his patients. -The Washington Post Boo k WorldSacks has an expert bedside manner: informed but humble, s elf-questioning, literary without being self-conscious.-Los Angel es TimesSacks spins one fascinating tale after another to show wh at happens when music and the brain mix it up. -NewsweekSacks onc e again examines the many mysteries of a fascinating subject. -Th e Seattle Times About the Author Oliver Sacks was a physician, writer, and professor of neurology. Born in London in 1933, he mo ved to New York City in 1965, where he launched his medical caree r and began writing case studies of his patients. Called the poet laureate of medicine by The New York Times, Sacks is the author of more than a dozen books, including The Man Who Mistook His Wif e for a Hat, Musicophilia, and Awakenings, which inspired an Osca r-nominated film and a play by Harold Pinter. He was the recipien t of many awards and honorary degrees, and was made a Commander o f the British Empire in 2008 for services to medicine. He died in 2015. www.oliversacks Excerpt. ® Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. A Bolt from the Blue: Sudden MusicophiliaTon y Cicoria was forty-two, very fit and robust, a former college fo otball player who had become a well-regarded orthopedic surgeon i n a small city in upstate New York. He was at a lakeside pavilion for a family gathering one fall afternoon. It was pleasant and b reezy, but he noticed a few storm clouds in the distance; it look ed like rain.He went to a pay phone outside the pavilion to make a quick call to his mother (this was in 1994, before the age of c ell phones). He still remembers every single second of what happe ned next: I was talking to my mother on the phone. There was a li ttle bit of rain, thunder in the distance. My mother hung up. The phone was a foot away from where I was standing when I got struc k. I remember a flash of light coming out of the phone. It hit me in the face. Next thing I remember, I was flying backwards.Then- he seemed to hesitate before telling me this-I was flying forward s. Bewildered. I looked around. I saw my own body on the ground. I said to myself, 'Oh shit, I'm dead.' I saw people converging on the body. I saw a woman-she had been standing waiting to use the phone right behind me-position herself over my body, give it CPR . . . . I floated up the stairs-my consciousness came with me. I saw my kids, had the realization that they would be okay. Then I was surrounded by a bluish-white light . . . an enormous feeling of well-being and peace. The highest and lowest points of my life raced by me. No emotion associated with these . . . pure thought , pure ecstasy. I had the perception of accelerating, being drawn up . . . there was speed and direction. Then, as I was saying to myself, 'This is the most glorious feeling I have ever had'-SLAM ! I was back.Dr. Cicoria knew he was back in his own body because he had pain-pain from the burns on his face and his left foot, w here the electrical charge had entered and exited his body-and, h e realized, only bodies have pain. He wanted to go back, he wante d to tell the woman to stop giving him CPR, to let him go; but it was too late-he was firmly back among the living. After a minute or two, when he could speak, he said, It's okay-I'm a doctor! Th e woman (she turned out to be an intensive-care-unit nurse) repli ed, A few minutes ago, you weren't.The police came and wanted to call an ambulance, but Cicoria refused, delirious. They took him home instead (it seemed to take hours), where he called his own d octor, a cardiologist. The cardiologist, when he saw him, thought Cicoria must have had a brief cardiac arrest, but could find not hing amiss with examination or EKG. With these things, you're ali ve or dead, the cardiologist remarked. He did not feel that Dr. C icoria would suffer any further consequences of this bizarre acci dent.Cicoria also consulted a neurologist-he was feeling sluggish (most unusual for him) and having some difficulties with his mem ory. He found himself forgetting the names of people he knew well . He was examined neurologically, had an EEG and an MRI. Again, n othing seemed amiss.A couple of weeks later, when his energy retu rned, Dr. Cicoria went back to work. There were still some linger ing memory problems-he occasionally forgot the names of rare dise ases or surgical procedures-but all his surgical skills were unim paired. In another two weeks, his memory problems disappeared, an d that, he thought, was the end of the matter.What then happened still fills Cicoria with amazement, even now, a dozen years later . Life had returned to normal, seemingly, when suddenly, over two or three days, there was this insatiable desire to listen to pia no music. This was completely out of keeping with anything in his past. He had had a few piano lessons as a boy, he said, but no r eal interest. He did not have a piano in his house. What music he did listen to tended to be rock music.With this sudden onset of craving for piano music, he began to buy recordings and became es pecially enamored of a Vladimir Ashkenazy recording of Chopin fav orites-the Military Polonaise, the Winter Wind Étude, the Black K ey Étude, the A-flat Polonaise, the B-flat Minor Scherzo. I loved them all, Tony said. I had the desire to play them. I ordered al l the sheet music. At this point, one of our babysitters asked if she could store her piano in our house-so now, just when I crave d one, a piano arrived, a nice little upright. It suited me fine. I could hardly read the music, could barely play, but I started to teach myself. It had been more than thirty years since the few piano lessons of his boyhood, and his fingers seemed stiff and a wkward.And then, on the heels of this sudden desire for piano mus ic, Cicoria started to hear music in his head. The first time, he said, it was in a dream. I was in a tux, onstage; I was playing something I had written. I woke up, startled, and the music was s till in my head. I jumped out of bed, started trying to write dow n as much of it as I could remember. But I hardly knew how to not ate what I heard. This was not too successful-he had never tried to write or notate music before. But whenever he sat down at the piano to work on the Chopin, his own music would come and take me over. It had a very powerful presence.I was not quite sure what to make of this peremptory music, which would intrude almost irre sistibly and overwhelm him. Was he having musical hallucinations? No, Dr. Cicoria said, they were not hallucinations-inspiration w as a more apt word. The music was there, deep inside him-or somew here-and all he had to do was let it come to him. It's like a fre quency, a radio band. If I open myself up, it comes. I want to sa y, 'It comes from heaven,' as Mozart said.His music is ceaseless. It never runs dry, he continued. If anything, I have to turn it off.Now he had to wrestle not just with learning to play the Chop in, but to give form to the music continually running in his head , to try it out on the piano, to get it on manuscript paper. It w as a terrible struggle, he said. I would get up at four in the mo rning and play till I went to work, and when I got home from work I was at the piano all evening. My wife was not really pleased. I was possessed.In the third month after being struck by lightnin g, then, Cicoria-once an easygoing, genial family man, almost ind ifferent to music-was inspired, even possessed, by music, and sca rcely had time for anything else. It began to dawn on him that pe rhaps he had been saved for a special reason. I came to think, he said, that the only reason I had been allowed to survive was the music. I asked him whether he had been a religious man before th e lightning. He had been raised Catholic, he said, but had never been particularly observant; he had some unorthodox beliefs, too, such as in reincarnation.He himself, he grew to think, had had a sort of reincarnation, had been transformed and given a special gift, a mission, to tune in to the music that he called, half met aphorically, the music from heaven. This came, often, in an absol ute torrent of notes with no breaks, no rests, between them, and he would have to give it shape and form. (As he said this, I thou ght of Caedmon, the seventh-century Anglo-Saxon poet, an illitera te goatherd who, it was said, had received the art of song in a d ream one night, and spent the rest of his life praising God and c reation in hymns and poems.)Cicoria continued to work on his pian o playing and his compositions. He got books on notation, and soo n realized that he needed a music teacher. He would travel to con certs by his favorite performers but had nothing to do with music al friends in his own town or musical activities there. This was a solitary pursuit, between himself and his muse.I asked whether he had experienced other changes since the lightning strike-a new appreciation of art, perhaps, different taste in reading, new be liefs? Cicoria said he had become very spiritual since his near-d eath experience. He had started to read every book he could find about near-death experiences and about lightning strikes. And he had got a whole library on Tesla, as well as anything on the terr ible and beautiful power of high-voltage electricity. He felt he could sometimes see auras of light or energy around people's bodi es-he had never seen this before the lightning bolt.Some years pa ssed, and Cicoria's new life, his inspiration, never deserted him for a moment. He continued to work full-time as a surgeon, but h is heart and mind now centered on music. He got divorced in 2004, and the same year had a fearful motorcycle accident. He had no m emory of this, but his Harley was struck by another vehicle, and he was found in a ditch, unconscious and badly injured, with brok en bones, a ruptured spleen, a perforated lung, cardiac contusion s, and, despite his helmet, head injuries. In spite of all this, he made a complete recovery and was back at work in two months. N either the accident nor his head injury nor his divorce seemed to have made any difference to his passion for playing and composin g music.I have never met another person with a story like Tony Ci coria's, but I have occasionally had patients with a similar sudd en onset of musical or artistic interests-including Salimah M., a research chemist. In her early forties, Salimah started to have brief periods, lasting a minute or less, in which she would get a strange feeling-sometimes a sense that she was on a beach that s he had once known, while at the same time being perfectly conscio us of her current surroundings and able to continue a conversatio n, or drive a car, or do whatever she had been doing. Occasionall y these episodes were accompanied by a sour taste in the mouth. S he noticed these strange occurrences, but did not think of them a s having any neurological significance. It was only when she had a grand mal seizure in the summer of 2003 that she went to a neur ologist and was given brain scans, which revealed a large tumor i n her right temporal lobe. This had been the cause of her strange episodes, which were now realized to be temporal lobe seizures. The tumor, her doctors felt, was malignant (though it was probabl y an oligodendroglioma, of relatively low malignancy) and needed to be removed. Salimah wondered if she had been given a death sen tence and was fearful of the operation and its possible consequen ces; she and her husband had been told that there might be some p ersonality changes following it. But in the event, the surgery we nt well, most of the tumor was removed, and after a period of con valescence, Salimah was able to return to her work as a chemist.S he had been a fairly reserved woman before the surgery, who would occasionally be annoyed or preoccupied by small things like dust or untidiness; her husband said she was sometimes obsessive abou t jobs that needed to be done around the house. But now, after th e surgery, Salimah seemed unperturbed by such domestic matters. S he had become, in the idiosyncratic words of her husband (English was not their first language), a happy cat. She was, he declared , a joyologist.Salimah's new cheerfulness was apparent at work. S he had worked in the same laboratory for fifteen years and had al ways been admired for her intelligence and dedication. But now, w hile losing none of this professional competence, she seemed a mu ch warmer person, keenly sympathetic and interested in the lives and feelings of her co-workers. Where before, in a colleague's wo rds, she had been much more into herself, she now became the conf idante and social center of the entire lab.At home, too, she shed some of her Marie Curie-like, work-oriented personality. She per mitted herself time off from her thinking, her equations, and bec ame more interested in going to movies or parties, living it up a bit. And a new love, a new passion, entered her life. She had be en vaguely musical, in her own words, as a girl, had played the p iano a little, but music had never played any great part in her l ife. Now it was different. She longed to hear music, to go to con certs, to listen to classical music on the radio or on CDs. She c ould be moved to rapture or tears by music which had carried no s pecial feeling for her before. She became addicted to her car rad io, which she would listen to while driving to work. A colleague who happened to pass her on the road to the lab said that the mus ic on her radio was incredibly loud-he could hear it a quarter of a mile away. Salimah, in her convertible, was entertaining the w hole freeway.Like Tony Cicoria, Salimah showed a drastic transfor mation from being only vaguely interested in music to being passi onately excited by music and in continual need of it. And with bo th of them, there were other, more general changes, too-a surge o f emotionality, as if emotions of every sort were being stimulate d or released. In Salimah's words, What happened after the surger y-I felt reborn. That changed my outlook on life and made me appr eciate every minute of it. Excerpt. ® Reprinted by permission. A ll rights reserved. A Bolt from the Blue: Sudden MusicophiliaTony Cicoria was forty-two, very fit and robust, a former college foo tball player who had become a well-regarded orthopedic surgeon in a small city in upstate New York. He was at a lakeside pavilion for a family gathering one fall afternoon. It was pleasant and br eezy, but he noticed a few storm clouds in the distance; it looke d like rain.He went to a pay phone outside the pavilion to make a quick call to his mother (this was in 1994, before the age of ce ll phones). He still remembers every single second of what happen ed next: I was talking to my mother on the phone. There was a lit tle bit of rain, thunder in the distance. My mother hung up. The phone was a foot away from where I was standing when I got struck . I remember a flash of light coming out of the phone. It hit me in the face. Next thing I remember, I was flying backwards.Then-h e seemed to hesitate before telling me this-I was flying forwards . Bewildered. I looked around. I saw my own body on the ground. I said to myself, 'Oh shit, I'm dead.' I saw people converging on the body. I saw a woman-she had been standing waiting to use the phone right behind me-position herself over my body, give it CPR. . . . I floated up the stairs-my consciousness came with me. I s aw my kids, had the realization that they would be okay. Then I w as surrounded by a bluish-white light . . . an enormous feeling o f well-being and peace. The highest and lowest points of my life raced by me. No emotion associated with these . . . pure thought, pure ecstasy. I had the perception of accelerating, being drawn up . . . there was speed and direction. Then, as I was saying to myself, 'This is the most glorious feeling I have ever had'-SLAM! I was back.Dr. Cicoria knew he was back in his own body because he had pain-pain from the burns on his face and his left foot, wh ere the electrical charge had entered and exited his body-and, he realized, only bodies have pain. He wanted to go back, he wanted to tell the woman to stop giving him CPR, to let him go; but it was too late-he was firmly back among the living. After a minute or two, when he could speak, he said, It's okay-I'm a doctor! The woman (she turned out to be an intensive-care-unit nurse) replie d, A few minutes ago, you weren't.The police came and wanted to c all an ambulance, but Cicoria refused, delirious. They took him h ome instead (it seemed to take hours), where he called his own do ctor, a cardiologist. The cardiologist, when he saw him, thought Cicoria must have had a brief cardiac arrest, but could find noth ing amiss with examination or EKG. With these things, you're aliv e or dead, the cardiologist remarked. He did not feel that Dr. Ci coria would suffer any further consequences of this bizarre accid ent.Cicoria also consulted a neurologist-he was feeling sluggish (most unusual for him) and having some difficulties with his memo ry. He found himself forgetting the names of people he knew well. He was examined neurologically, had an EEG and an MRI. Again, no thing seemed amiss.A couple of weeks later, when his energy retur ned, Dr. Cicoria went back to work. There were still some lingeri ng memory problems-he occasionally forgot the names of rare disea ses or surgical procedures-but all his surgical skills were unimp aired. In another two weeks, his memory problems disappeared, and that, he thought, was the end of the matter.What then happened s till fills Cicoria with amazement, even now, a dozen years later. Life had returned to normal, seemingly, when suddenly, over two or three days, there was this insatiable desire to listen to pian o music. This was completely out of keeping with anything in his past. He had had a few piano lessons as a boy, he said, but no re al interest. He did not have a piano in his house. What music he did listen to tended to be rock music.With this sudden onset of c raving for piano music, he began to buy recordings and became esp ecially enamored of a Vladimir Ashkenazy recording of Chopin favo rites-the Military Polonaise, the Winter Wind Étude, the Black Ke y Étude, the A-flat Polonaise, the B-flat Minor Scherzo. I loved them all, Tony said. I had the desire to play them. I ordered all the sheet music. At this point, one of our babysitters asked if she could store her piano in our house-so now, just when I craved one, a piano arrived, a nice little upright. It suited me fine. I could hardly read the music, could barely play, but I started t o teach myself. It had been more than thirty years since the few piano lessons of his boyhood, and his fingers seemed stiff and aw kward.And then, on the heels of this sudden desire for piano musi c, Cicoria started to hear music in his head. The first time, he said, it was in a dream. I was in a tux, onstage; I was playing s omething I had written. I woke up, startled, and the music was st ill in my head. I jumped out of bed, started trying to write down as much of it as I could remember. But I hardly knew how to nota te what I heard. This was not too successful-he had never tried t o write or notate music before. But whenever he sat down at the p iano to work on the Chopin, his own music would come and take me over. It had a very powerful presence.I was not quite sure what t o make of this peremptory music, which would intrude almost irres istibly and overwhelm him. Was he having musical hallucinations? No, Dr. Cicoria said, they were not hallucinations-inspiration wa s a more apt word. The music was there, deep inside him-or somewh ere-and all he had to do was let it come to him. It's like a freq uency, a radio band. If I open myself up, it comes. I want to say , 'It comes from heaven,' as Mozart said.His music is ceaseless. It never runs dry, he continued. If anything, I have to turn it o ff.Now he had to wrestle not just with learning to play the Chopi n, but to give form to the music continually running in his head, to try it out on the piano, to get it on manuscript paper. It wa s a terrible struggle, he said. I would get up at four in the mor ning and play till I went to work, and when I got home from work I was at the piano all evening. My wife was not really pleased. I was possessed.In the third month after being struck by lightning , then, Cicoria-once an easygoing, genial family man, almost indi fferent to music-was inspired, even possessed, by music, and scar cely had time for anything else. It began to dawn on him that per haps he had been saved for a special reason. I came to think, he said, that the only reason I had been allowed to survive was the music. I asked him whether he had been a religious man before the lightning. He had been raised Catholic, he said, but had never b een particularly observant; he had some unorthodox beliefs, too, such as in reincarnation.He himself, he grew to think, had had a sort of reincarnation, had been transformed and given a special g ift, a mission, to tune in to the music that he called, half meta phorically, the music from heaven. This came, often, in an absolu te torrent of notes with no breaks, no rests, between them, and h e would have to give it shape and form. (As he said this, I thoug ht of Caedmon, the seventh-century Anglo-Saxon poet, an illiterat e goatherd who, it was said, had received the art of song in a dr eam one night, and spent the rest of his life praising God and cr eation in hymns and poems.)Cicoria continued to work on his piano playing and his compositions. He got books on notation, and soon realized that he needed a music teacher. He would travel to conc erts by his favorite performers but had nothing to do with musica l friends in his own town or musical activities there. This was a solitary pursuit, between himself and his muse.I asked whether h e had experienced other changes since the lightning strike-a new appreciation of art, perhaps, different taste in reading, new bel iefs? Cicoria said he had become very spiritual since his near-de ath experience. He had started to read every book he could find a bout near-death experiences and about lightning strikes. And he h ad got a whole library on Tesla, as well as anything on the terri ble and beautiful power of high-voltage electricity. He felt he c ould sometimes see auras of light or energy around people's bodie s-he had never seen this before the lightning bolt.Some years pas sed, and Cicoria's new life, his inspiration, never deserted him for a moment. He continued to work full-time as a surgeon, but hi s heart and mind now centered on music. He got divorced in 2004, and the same year had a fearful motorcycle accident. He had no me mory of this, but his Harley was struck by another vehicle, and h e was found in a ditch, unconscious and badly injured, with broke n bones, a ruptured spleen, a perforated lung, cardiac contusions , and, despite his helmet, head injuries. In spite of all this, h e made a complete recovery and was back at work in two months. Ne ither the accident nor his head injury nor his divorce seemed to have made any difference to his passion for playing and composing music.I have never met another person with a story like Tony Cic oria's, but I have occasionally had patients with a similar sudde n onset of musical or artistic interests-including Salimah M., a research chemist. In her early forties, Salimah started to have b rief periods, lasting a minute or less, in which she would get a strange feeling-sometimes a sense that she was on a beach that sh e had once known, while at the same time being perfectly consciou s of her current surroundings and able to continue a conversation , or drive a car, or do whatever she had been doing. Occasionally these episodes were accompanied by a sour taste in the mouth. Sh e noticed these strange occurrences, but did not think of them as having any neurological significance. It was only when she had a grand mal seizure in the summer of 2003 that she went to a neuro logist and was given brain scans, which revealed a large tumor in her right temporal lobe. This had been the cause of her strange episodes, which were now realized to be temporal lobe seizures. T he tumor, her doctors felt, was malignant (though it was probably an oligodendroglioma, of relatively low malignancy) and needed t o be removed. Salimah wondered if she had been given a death sent ence and was fearful of the operation and its possible consequenc es; she and her husband had been told that there might be some pe rsonality changes following it. But in the event, the surgery wen t well, most of the tumor was removed, and after a period of conv alescence, Salimah was able to return to her work as a chemist.Sh e had been a fairly reserved woman before the surgery, who would occasionally be annoyed or preoccupied by small things like dust or untidiness; her husband said she was sometimes obsessive about jobs that needed to be done around the house. But now, after the surgery, Salimah seemed unperturbed by such domestic matters. Sh e had become, in the idiosyncratic words of her husband (English was not their first language), a happy cat. She was, he declared, a joyologist.Salimah's new cheerfulness was apparent at work. Sh e had worked in the same laboratory for fifteen years and had alw ays been admired for her intelligence and dedication. But now, wh ile losing none of this professional competence, she seemed a muc h warmer person, keenly sympathetic and interested in the lives a nd feelings of her co-workers. Where before, in a colleague's wor ds, she had been much more into herself, she now became the confi dante and social center of the entire lab.At home, too, she shed some of her Marie Curie-like, work-oriented personality. She perm itted herself time off from her thinking, her equations, and beca me more interested in going to movies or parties, living it up a bit. And a new love, a new passion, entered her life. She had bee n vaguely musical, in her own words, as a girl, had played the pi ano a little, but music had never played any great part in her li fe. Now it was different. She longed to hear music, to go to conc erts, to listen to classical music on the radio or on CDs. She co uld be moved to rapture or tears by music which had carried no sp ecial feeling for her before. She became addicted to her car radi o, which she would listen to while driving to work. A colleague w ho happened to pass her on the road to the lab said that the musi c on her radio was incredibly loud-he could hear it a quarter of a mile away. Salimah, in her convertible, was entertaining the wh ole freeway.Like Tony Cicoria, Salimah showed a drastic transform ation from being only vaguely interested in music to being passio nately excited by music and in continual need of it. And with bot h of them, there were other, more general changes, too-a surge of emotionality, as if emotions of every sort were being stimulated or released. In Salimah's words, What happened after the surgery -I felt reborn. That changed my outlook on life and made me appre ciate every minute of it. .
2
Musicophilia : Tales of Music and the Brain (2008)
~EN PB NWISBN: 9781400033539 bzw. 1400033535, vermutlich in Englisch, Random House LCC US Sep 2008, Taschenbuch, neu.
Lieferung aus: Deutschland, Versandkostenfrei.
Von Händler/Antiquariat, AHA-BUCH GmbH [51283250], Einbeck, Germany.
Neuware - Revised and Expanded With the same trademark compassion and erudition he brought to The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat, Oliver Sacks explores the place music occupies in the brain and how it affects the human condition. In Musicophilia, he shows us a variety of what he calls 'musical misalignments.' Among them: a man struck by lightning who suddenly desires to become a pianist at the age of forty-two; an entire group of children with Williams syndrome, who are hypermusical from birth; people with 'amusia,' to whom a symphony sounds like the clattering of pots and pans; and a man whose memory spans only seven seconds-for everything but music. Illuminating, inspiring, and utterly unforgettable, Musicophilia is Oliver Sacks' latest masterpiece. 425 pp. Englisch.
Von Händler/Antiquariat, AHA-BUCH GmbH [51283250], Einbeck, Germany.
Neuware - Revised and Expanded With the same trademark compassion and erudition he brought to The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat, Oliver Sacks explores the place music occupies in the brain and how it affects the human condition. In Musicophilia, he shows us a variety of what he calls 'musical misalignments.' Among them: a man struck by lightning who suddenly desires to become a pianist at the age of forty-two; an entire group of children with Williams syndrome, who are hypermusical from birth; people with 'amusia,' to whom a symphony sounds like the clattering of pots and pans; and a man whose memory spans only seven seconds-for everything but music. Illuminating, inspiring, and utterly unforgettable, Musicophilia is Oliver Sacks' latest masterpiece. 425 pp. Englisch.
3
Musicophilia - Tales of Music and the Brain
~EN PB NWISBN: 9781400033539 bzw. 1400033535, vermutlich in Englisch, Random House LCC US, Taschenbuch, neu.
Lieferung aus: Deutschland, Versandkostenfrei.
Musicophilia: Revised and Expanded With the same trademark compassion and erudition he brought to The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat, Oliver Sacks explores the place music occupies in the brain and how it affects the human condition. In Musicophilia, he shows us a variety of what he calls `musical misalignments.` Among them: a man struck by lightning who suddenly desires to become a pianist at the age of forty-two an entire group of children with Williams syndrome, who are hypermusical from birth people with `amusia,` to whom a symphony sounds like the clattering of pots and pans and a man whose memory spans only seven seconds-for everything but music. Illuminating, inspiring, and utterly unforgettable, Musicophilia is Oliver Sacks` latest masterpiece. Englisch, Taschenbuch.
Musicophilia: Revised and Expanded With the same trademark compassion and erudition he brought to The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat, Oliver Sacks explores the place music occupies in the brain and how it affects the human condition. In Musicophilia, he shows us a variety of what he calls `musical misalignments.` Among them: a man struck by lightning who suddenly desires to become a pianist at the age of forty-two an entire group of children with Williams syndrome, who are hypermusical from birth people with `amusia,` to whom a symphony sounds like the clattering of pots and pans and a man whose memory spans only seven seconds-for everything but music. Illuminating, inspiring, and utterly unforgettable, Musicophilia is Oliver Sacks` latest masterpiece. Englisch, Taschenbuch.
4
Symbolbild
Musicophilia: Tales of Music and the Brain, Revised and Expanded Edition (2008)
EN PB USISBN: 9781400033539 bzw. 1400033535, in Englisch, 425 Seiten, Vintage, Taschenbuch, gebraucht.
جديد من: $4.86 (116 ويقدم)
تستخدم من: $1.31 (298 ويقدم)
إظهار المزيد 414 ويقدم في Amazon.com
Lieferung aus: Vereinigte Staaten von Amerika, Usually ships in 1-2 business days.
Von Händler/Antiquariat, shopgoodwillep.
Revised and ExpandedWith the same trademark compassion and erudition he brought to The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat, Oliver Sacks explores the place music occupies in the brain and how it affects the human condition. In Musicophilia, he shows us a variety of what he calls “musical misalignments.” Among them: a man struck by lightning who suddenly desires to become a pianist at the age of forty-two; an entire group of children with Williams syndrome, who are hypermusical from birth; people with “amusia,” to whom a symphony sounds like the clattering of pots and pans; and a man whose memory spans only seven seconds-for everything but music. Illuminating, inspiring, and utterly unforgettable, Musicophilia is Oliver Sacks' latest masterpiece., Paperback, الطبعة: Revised & enlarged, التسمية: Vintage, Vintage, مجموعة المنتجات: Book, ونشرت: 2008-09-23, تاريخ الإصدار: 2008-09-23, ستوديو: Vintage, رتبة المبيعات: 14132.
Von Händler/Antiquariat, shopgoodwillep.
Revised and ExpandedWith the same trademark compassion and erudition he brought to The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat, Oliver Sacks explores the place music occupies in the brain and how it affects the human condition. In Musicophilia, he shows us a variety of what he calls “musical misalignments.” Among them: a man struck by lightning who suddenly desires to become a pianist at the age of forty-two; an entire group of children with Williams syndrome, who are hypermusical from birth; people with “amusia,” to whom a symphony sounds like the clattering of pots and pans; and a man whose memory spans only seven seconds-for everything but music. Illuminating, inspiring, and utterly unforgettable, Musicophilia is Oliver Sacks' latest masterpiece., Paperback, الطبعة: Revised & enlarged, التسمية: Vintage, Vintage, مجموعة المنتجات: Book, ونشرت: 2008-09-23, تاريخ الإصدار: 2008-09-23, ستوديو: Vintage, رتبة المبيعات: 14132.
5
Symbolbild
Musicophilia: Tales of Music and the Brain, Revised and Expanded Edition (2008)
EN PB NWISBN: 9781400033539 bzw. 1400033535, in Englisch, 425 Seiten, Vintage, Taschenbuch, neu.
جديد من: $4.86 (116 ويقدم)
تستخدم من: $1.31 (298 ويقدم)
إظهار المزيد 414 ويقدم في Amazon.com
Lieferung aus: Vereinigte Staaten von Amerika, Usually ships in 1-2 business days.
Von Händler/Antiquariat, BILLY BUDD'S BOOKSTORE.
Revised and ExpandedWith the same trademark compassion and erudition he brought to The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat, Oliver Sacks explores the place music occupies in the brain and how it affects the human condition. In Musicophilia, he shows us a variety of what he calls “musical misalignments.” Among them: a man struck by lightning who suddenly desires to become a pianist at the age of forty-two; an entire group of children with Williams syndrome, who are hypermusical from birth; people with “amusia,” to whom a symphony sounds like the clattering of pots and pans; and a man whose memory spans only seven seconds-for everything but music. Illuminating, inspiring, and utterly unforgettable, Musicophilia is Oliver Sacks' latest masterpiece., Paperback, الطبعة: Revised & enlarged, التسمية: Vintage, Vintage, مجموعة المنتجات: Book, ونشرت: 2008-09-23, تاريخ الإصدار: 2008-09-23, ستوديو: Vintage, رتبة المبيعات: 14132.
Von Händler/Antiquariat, BILLY BUDD'S BOOKSTORE.
Revised and ExpandedWith the same trademark compassion and erudition he brought to The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat, Oliver Sacks explores the place music occupies in the brain and how it affects the human condition. In Musicophilia, he shows us a variety of what he calls “musical misalignments.” Among them: a man struck by lightning who suddenly desires to become a pianist at the age of forty-two; an entire group of children with Williams syndrome, who are hypermusical from birth; people with “amusia,” to whom a symphony sounds like the clattering of pots and pans; and a man whose memory spans only seven seconds-for everything but music. Illuminating, inspiring, and utterly unforgettable, Musicophilia is Oliver Sacks' latest masterpiece., Paperback, الطبعة: Revised & enlarged, التسمية: Vintage, Vintage, مجموعة المنتجات: Book, ونشرت: 2008-09-23, تاريخ الإصدار: 2008-09-23, ستوديو: Vintage, رتبة المبيعات: 14132.
6
Symbolbild
Musicophilia: Tales of Music and the Brain, Revised and Expanded Edition (2008)
EN PB NWISBN: 9781400033539 bzw. 1400033535, in Englisch, 425 Seiten, Vintage, Taschenbuch, neu.
Neuf à partir de: $4.86 (117 Offre)
Utilisé à partir de: $1.31 (298 Offre)
Voir la plus 415 Offres à Amazon.com
Lieferung aus: Vereinigte Staaten von Amerika, Usually ships in 1-2 business days.
Von Händler/Antiquariat, BILLY BUDD'S BOOKSTORE.
Revised and ExpandedWith the same trademark compassion and erudition he brought to The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat, Oliver Sacks explores the place music occupies in the brain and how it affects the human condition. In Musicophilia, he shows us a variety of what he calls “musical misalignments.” Among them: a man struck by lightning who suddenly desires to become a pianist at the age of forty-two; an entire group of children with Williams syndrome, who are hypermusical from birth; people with “amusia,” to whom a symphony sounds like the clattering of pots and pans; and a man whose memory spans only seven seconds-for everything but music. Illuminating, inspiring, and utterly unforgettable, Musicophilia is Oliver Sacks' latest masterpiece., Paperback, Edition: Revised & enlarged, Étiquette: Vintage, Vintage, Groupe de produits: Book, Publié: 2008-09-23, Date de sortie: 2008-09-23, Studio: Vintage, Vente de rang: 15211.
Von Händler/Antiquariat, BILLY BUDD'S BOOKSTORE.
Revised and ExpandedWith the same trademark compassion and erudition he brought to The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat, Oliver Sacks explores the place music occupies in the brain and how it affects the human condition. In Musicophilia, he shows us a variety of what he calls “musical misalignments.” Among them: a man struck by lightning who suddenly desires to become a pianist at the age of forty-two; an entire group of children with Williams syndrome, who are hypermusical from birth; people with “amusia,” to whom a symphony sounds like the clattering of pots and pans; and a man whose memory spans only seven seconds-for everything but music. Illuminating, inspiring, and utterly unforgettable, Musicophilia is Oliver Sacks' latest masterpiece., Paperback, Edition: Revised & enlarged, Étiquette: Vintage, Vintage, Groupe de produits: Book, Publié: 2008-09-23, Date de sortie: 2008-09-23, Studio: Vintage, Vente de rang: 15211.
Lade…