A somewhat disorganised but highly readable memoir by the prolifically published neuroscience writer. ( )

It's not his best writing, but it's his last. I greatly enjoyed learning about Sack's life, or lives really. The documentary film by Ric Burns, also called On the Move, does a great job of distilling Sack's last work. It's one of the few times I might recommend the movie over the book. He's a wonderful character to behold. Both the book and the film brought me to tears, and made me laugh deeply. ( )

Really dug this memoir, which basically functioned as Oliver Sacks: The Sexy Years.

Though a bit rambly at times, On the Move was a total pleasure of a read. I always seem to find Sacks's works to be super fluent and enjoyable. ( )

I first read The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat probably around the time it was published, sometime in the late 80s or during the 90s, and it's always stayed with me as one of the best books I've ever read. Much later, just a few years ago, I read Musicophilia and it made a similar impression. When Oliver Sacks died in 2015, I cried; there went one of our great geniuses.

He was a genius who loved to ride motorcycles, loved weight lighting and body building, loved to swim and ride horses, and loved music. Who knew? He was a genius doctor who could tell us stories like nobody else. His final story, the one he tells here about himself, is just as good a story as any of the others. ( )

Dr. Sacks, what a life you lived! I had no idea ( )

Jumps around in time too much. ( )

I read this one for a book club. He's not as brilliant writing about himself as he is about his patients. However, I was fascinated at the look at the advances in neurology from the 60s (when I took psych classes) to the present. ( )

I thought that the life of Oliver Sacks would be interesting, but I did not know that it would take me into weightlifting culture, motorcycling, the gay scene of the 1960s, and the philosophy of consciousness. Perhaps I could have guessed the latter, as his books that I know of (but haven’t read) are about consciousness and perception. But the incidents of his life – as selected and highlighted here – show him as an impetuous, obsessive and deeply thoughtful personality – the sort of person you would enjoy spending an evening with if he were not also rather shy and withdrawn.
Fortunately, though, like many shy people, when you get him going on his subject he can ramble on endlessly with fascinating details. He does ramble more or less chronologically through his life, stopping at various points to describe anecdotes of his experiences. He jumps around a bit, and over some chunks of his life, but the anecdotes he tells seem to be at key incidents that led to insights about himself or about the psychology of the mind. For example, his initial repressed homosexuality in London in 1959 contrasts with his jump into the lively gay sexuality of San Francisco in the 1960s and ’70s. He then seems to have become celibate until meeting his life partner Billy in 2008, completely skipping over the AIDS health crisis of the 1980s and ’90s. This spotty anecdotal approach makes this more of a selection of memoirs than an autobiography, although it does reveal a lot about how his thinking develops and how it affected his approach to psychology and neurology.
Sacks describes himself as a storyteller, a trait he says he picked up from his mother. Storytelling is the style he adopted for his professional writing, describing case histories of his patients rather than abstracting their stories to symptoms and outcomes. This in part may explain why his books have met resistance among other neurologists but have also been so popular among general readers. In seeing his patients as people with life stories, rather than as the abstractions common in conventional medical writing, he understands them more deeply than other researchers might. It appears that he takes his patients’ histories and ponders them extensively as he attempts to describe them, sometimes taking months to write each one. With this approach, it’s understandable that his patients grow deeply attached to him and many become long-time friends. It’s probably not possible to say that this is a better approach than the conventional one, but certainly it seems invaluable to have some researchers taking an in-depth holistic view while others take the focused examination.
Fascinatingly, later in his life, Sacks comes to the conclusion that perception, experience and consciousness are constructed phenomena, formed by each individual in a way similar to the way that learning and memory are individually constructed. Paraphrasing Gerald Edelman, he says “As we move about, our sense organs take samplings of the world, and from these, maps are created in the brain. There then occurs with experience a selective strengthening of those mappings that corresponds to successful perceptions – successful in that they prove the most useful and powerful for the building of ‘reality.’ ” This of course implies that each individual builds a unique picture of reality and a unique consciousness, although presumably with a coherence among other people with “successful” mappings. This radical understanding comes late in Sacks’ life, so he does not have time in this book to talk about its implications.
In a way, this book is a bit of a teaser leading a reader into Sacks’ other books. He touches on many of them in a tantalizing way without going into what he has already developed at book length. But he makes them so intriguing, and his storytelling is so engaging, that this book makes me want to pick up the others and find out what more he has to say. ( )

This book was fascinating to me just because of how much I didn’t know about the man. It starts when he was about fourteen, tells about his young adult years, univeristy education, how he figured out his career, his experiences writing books, his intellectual family (and schizophrenic older brother), many lasting friendships with colleagues, his compassion and concern for neurologic patients, and so much more. I would have had no idea (apart from the cover image) that Sacks was very much into motorcycles as a young man, and loved to travel the country on his bike. That he was seriously into weight-lifting. That he was gay, fell in love a few times, it never quite worked out. That he wanted to do research but was kind of a “walking disaster” in the lab- loosing items, breaking things, etc- until he was politely told to leave (this during university years). His passion was people- learning about their lives and how everything interacted with or influenced their neurological disease. He was vividly interested in the case histories his mother would tell (she was a surgeon) and put this same passion into telling stories, only in book form- and after gaining the consent of patients, many whom wished their stories told, because they felt forgotten and ignored. These were often patients who lived in long-term care facilities or hospitals. Sacks tells of his writing process, his many frustrations in bringing books to press, his travels and the thrill of new discoveries in the field. It was wonderful to read the “backstory” as it were, of his books that I’m familiar with, and has fired my interest to read all the others. The last chapters of this book were difficult for me to get through- they go into more detail on the workings of the brain, which I struggled to understand. But this one’s staying on my shelf, maybe I’ll comprehend more with a re-read someday.

from the Dogear Diary ( )

An honest review of how Oliver Sacks became Oliver Sacks — his experiences during the war, his sexual awakening, his troubles in school, his huge enthusiasms, how they shaped the development of his unique way of looking at the world, people, and their experiences. He developed many interesting and influential friendships. A very enjoyable 📖. ( )

Fascinating, compulsively readable, really enjoyable. This is a man with an interesting, compelling and extremely compassionate life. ( )

Fascinating and frustrating. Perhaps the most present, subtle theme of "On the Move" is what he calls the problem of joining particulars with generalities; therein lies my disappointment.

Sacks' memoir meanders. It's sort of like a quilt which the reader is a part of putting together, and which ultimately doesn't quite cohere, but was none the less companionable.

More than the limited cohesion (it can't quite be read like a series of essays), I was frustrated by the tantalizing potentiality of depth or progress, when most topics - from science to friendship to description of landscape beauty - remained surface. Perhaps what I mean by that is there's little challenge or conflict, although there are always benign hints thereof.

The memoir is a paradox or puzzle: of accomplishment, groundbreaking medical understanding and practice, and yet of desperate self-esteem, repetition (cycles of broad strokes and bewildering details), and obsequiousness. Dr. Sacks struggled (despite his seemingly cheery acknowledgment and then ignoring of such) with a felt need but natural resistance to justifying himself by any means possible, which results in snippets without development.

Which is fascinating and frustrating - since he was such caring, courageous, driven, and fascinating man.
( )

Memoir by Oliver Sacks on his life. He reviews his life, his writings, his family, Jewish background and his sexuality. Oliver Sacks was not a scientist in the research sense. He did one good research with The Awakenings but mostly he was field scientist, doctor who practiced observation. Oliver Sacks had so many interests, he was entirely unfocused. He did not stay employed long because he often got into trouble because he did not follow academia conventions. I enjoy what I've read by Sacks, I enjoyed this memoir and appreciated that he kept his sexual/love life as something that was his and not bared all to readers. The book felt disorganized. ( )

It was great to spend a little more time with Dr. Oliver Sacks by reading this memoir--On the Move: A Life. There is just so much life in these pages. And I can't wait to discuss it with my book club.

I especially enjoyed a look at the development of his books and how reading 19th-century medical literature leads to the formation of his writing style with case stories. I had a chuckle when after submitting the manuscript for A Leg to Stand On, which was about his recovery after severely breaking his leg--that he broke his leg again. A Leg to Stand On was in proofs at this point, and his publisher responded with, "Oliver! You'd do anything for a footnote." ( )

https://tamaranth.blogspot.com/2021/07/2021083-on-move-life-oliver-sacks.html ( )

Sacks' final autobiography, as excellent as his books usually are. Amusing and touching and revealing all at once. ( )

Solid book although I would prefer his other books (I am less a biography person). I certainly learned more about him and realized how much more we had in common. Another option is to watch the movie version which I actually felt was a little more interesting than the book and I rarely say that! ( )

This was cross-country roadtrip audiobook number 2, which is fitting given the title. I didn't know much about Oliver Sacks before this, but peripherally knew of his work and respected him. Listening to this book through Virginia, Tennessee, and much of Arkansas, my respect and admiration for this man was cemented. He writes of his life with candor, including aspects of his life which some might consider less-than-admirable. But at the end of the day, choices, both good and not-so-good, make the persons we are today, and I think he realized that.

I am sad at myself for not reading any of his books before his death, but am heartened that he was so prolific that there are many works for me to explore. ( )

I found it interesting until about the last hour of the audiobook where the science got SUPER SCIENCY and the narrative lost me. ( )

A rambling memoir that at the beginning paints a very affecting picture of the young Sacks (motorcycle enthusiast, drug addict, gay man, doctor) without whitewashing his weaknesses and mistakes. The second half of the book is a combination of Great Minds I Have Known and Everybody I Love Has Died, and ends rather oddly in mid-air.

Sacks is one of my favorite writers about the strangeness of the human brain (The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat and Hallucinations are on my re-read list), and his books are distinguished by a respect for the humanity of his subjects that turns conventional doctor-speak on its head. He himself had some neurological idiosyncrasies (migraines and proposagnosia, among others) and writes about those candidly too. However, though I managed to soldier through this book, I somehow felt it lacked the respect for himself that dignified his other readings. A shame. ( )

I find Sachs's life much more interesting than his work, his first memoir, "Uncle Tungsten," more curious than his clinical books. The second half of this memoir is disappointing, as it gets more into his work, more into "I wrote this book, then this book, then this book," and also becomes more fragmentary. It's frustrating, often I feel like we only get half the story. (He acknowledges this once, saying that he plans to tell the rest of the story in another book.) I would so much prefer getting a few full stories rather than many half-finished fragments.

He is constantly losing things: photographs, manuscripts, essays, letters. I'm glad the world is digital now. ( )

It was a little painful to read this book. Oliver Sacks was one of those people who, no matter how brilliant, charming, dedicated or compassionate, always manages to wreck, or at least, override those qualities from time to time. Not deliberately, no, Sacks was one of those people who’s always losing things and he was a terrible klutz. I’ve often wondered why he didn’t go into neurosurgery and after reading this I understand why. He also seemed to be short of common sense some of the time. Living in a northern climate for years, arriving at one’s forties or fifties in this climate and not knowing pipes freeze in winter. Swimming in active shipping lanes. Buying and riding powerful motorcycles with very little clue how and crashing. Knowing there’s too much weight on the leg press, trying anyway and almost dying because there is no spotter. There are more, but I can’t remember them all. It’s a wonder he didn’t kill himself more than once.

What I don’t understand though is how he helped people. Directly that is. I got very little sense of him as a physician. He didn’t seem to be terribly effective despite his passion and humanity. For starters, so many things interested or intrigued him that he didn’t seem to stick with anything for long. One minute it’s encephalitis lethargica, then Tourette’s, then autism, deafness, color blindness - and others. While some he retains an interest in most over time, it isn’t dedicated time, it’s here and there. Of all the countless people he met and/or wrote about how many did he help? How many got better? Did he cure conditions or improve them in any way? It’s hard to tell from this book. Clearly we need one from the receiving end of his ministrations.

It’s not as though he’s shy about his medical career. He considers himself a scientist, too, and talks about what rapport he has with his patients, what acclaim he’s had from some of his peers, although not all of them. It’s a tough personality to pin down. He’s mightily sure of himself in some ways and terribly insecure in others. I guess like any human. Overall I think he’d be a compassionate advocate for you if you were a patient, but I still don’t know if you’d get better.

He’d be an interesting person to know, but probably would try my patience. In his frank, but brief descriptions of his few love affairs he seems baffled as to why they fell apart. Some were that he fell in love with people who couldn’t return it, but some I got the feeling he ignored for long periods then smothered them. He seems like he was a good friend, but had many so you probably wouldn’t get much of his time. He’d be too busy writing anyway. Thousands of notebooks, millions of words. A life he certainly documented and enjoyed, but a puzzling memoir. ( )

This is the autobiography of neurologist and writer Oliver Sacks. Although it should maybe be noted that he glosses over his childhood pretty quickly, having already turned that into a memoir with Uncle Tungsten.

What's most striking about this account, really, is how surprising the portrait of Sacks' youth is. I've seen this guy on TV and heard him talk on podcasts and such, and he always came across as shy and a little dorky, in a sweet way, as a brilliant but perhaps slightly dotty old academic fascinated by brains and books and classical music and about as tame and unhip as a human being can get. So it was interesting and a little amusing to read about how he spent his younger years setting weightlifting records and speeding around the US on his motorcycle and having doomed gay love affairs and taking disturbing amounts of amphetamines. Just goes to show that you should never judge anyone by appearances, and to remind us that every quiet, sweet old person was younger and wilder once.

Mind you, I found these accounts of his youth interesting mainly in that they were amusingly unexpected, rather than because they were fascinating in themselves. The book, on the whole, is a fairly disjointed series of personal recollections which range from only very mildly interesting to somewhat intellectually stimulating or rather touching, with those last two becoming more common later in the book. His accounts of his research and writing are, unsurprisingly, the most engaging parts, or at least they were for me, as they make a nice (if not really necessary) supplement to his other books. I'd say if you've read those and want a little bit of a personal, behind-the-scenes perspective on them, or if they've made you curious about the person behind them, it's may be worth picking up.

If you haven't read them, and are at all interested in medicine, the brain, or how human being beings work, I recommend some of them very strongly. There is a sense of intelligence, humanity, and deep curiosity that comes out even better in those, perhaps, than in this autobiography, and the subject matter is weird and wonderful and incredibly thought-provoking. Start, I'd say, with either Awakenings or The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat It's worth it. ( )

Oliver Sacks's memoirs published shortly before his death in 2015.

Thoroughly enjoyable, written in a conversational narrative style, the memoirs left me feeling I really had spent a couple of days with Dr. Sacks, revelling in his humanity, his wide range of interests, the people he'd known (famous and obscure), his good humour, and self-awareness. I was really quite sorry to have finished the book. ( )

A great memoir by a very dedicated neurologist. So much I learned about his life and his personal struggles, He continued to stay so interested , involved in the struggles of others. I've read all his books and found it very interesting to be able to read so much personal detail about this wonderful man.. A wonderful book. ( )