Scan barcode
cellio21's review against another edition
dark
informative
reflective
slow-paced
4.5
Content Warnings
Graphic: Gore, Child death, and Medical content
franciso's review against another edition
5.0
Enthralling throughout and packed with fascinating tales and cases. By the end I found myself feeling as devoted to Hunter as his students.
avreereads's review against another edition
3.0
A book that makes you grateful to experience medicine as it is TODAY!
3.5 Stars
I’m a huge fan of medical non-fiction and the history of medicine so naturally I gravitated toward this title. I will say this wasn’t my favorite that I’ve read on the subject and it’s a bit early of a timeframe for what I typically am fascinated by, I prefer mid-to-late 19th century medicine, but there were definitely a lot of fascinating details strewn throughout this book and…others that were of a rather disturbing nature like the distressing experiments and vivisections John Hunter performed on live animals all in the name of science.
John Hunter apparently had more dissection time than most surgeons of the time, mainly due to the measures he’d go to acquire bodies/animals for himself and for his students to have a “book” to learn from and explore. I mean, I completely understand that these measures boosted the medical field considerably and especially in the art of surgery.
The sample of the book was what drew me in and I was blown away by that first chapter, thinking, “what a treat if the entire book is written this way!”—well the rest of the book fell a little flat compared to all that the very first chapter had to offer! The rest of the story was written in choppy chapters and not tackling the feel of that first chapter transporting me right in the moment. The first chapter called “The Coach Driver’s Knee” talked about how in 1785 aneurysms behind the knee were often a death sentence but John Hunter entered the scene at just the right moment and felt confident with his knowledge of the anatomy of the region to be able to repair the injury. (I won’t go into too much detail in case you plan/decide to read the book).
I just mistakenly thought that each consecutive chapter was going to follow various surgeries/cases he performed/treated and what their outcomes were. But that was not exactly the case…I was just left wanting more of that.
But I guess what came after that first chapter was essentially explaining just how he came to be one of the most sought after surgeons due to his comprehension of anatomy and all the tangle of muscles, tendons, veins, lymph nodes, arteries, organs that lay just below the surface of our largest organ—the skin. “He believed that only by minutely studying the human body, in order to understand the whereabouts and functions of every living part, could surgeons possibly hope to improve their skills.” (pg 7) It is rather disheartening at how he arrived at this knowledge though—with the book going into great detail of how he made animals suffer to verify how things worked just beneath the skin, how organs functioned, how injuries healed, etc. I wish there was another way but I suppose I should be grateful for what these mavericks did for the modernization of surgery and medicine.
This book was riddled with fascinating tidbits like, for example:
“Far from being interlopers in the field of surgery, barbers were the first surgeons. The earliest organized medical care, in medieval times, had been centered on monasteries. But the church frowned on its devotees spilling blood, and so barbers—who were frequent visitors to brethren in order to keep tonsures and beards in trim—assisted the monks in their medical work by excising warts, removing abscesses, and letting blood. The familiar red-and-white-striped poles outside barbershops are leftover reminders of their erstwhile professions. Originally, they signified the bandaged and bloodied stick gripped by patients during minor surgical procedures.” (Pg 22)
And some beautiful descriptions that do help to transport you to that time and place, as in:
“As Hunter approached from the northeast, through the pleasant villages of Tottenham, Islington, and Pentonville, the rough, rutted road became increasingly busy, while houses, shops, and taverns wrestled for space along the way. As he neared the city, the narrow, towering tenements, which housed whole families in single cellars and attic rooms, almost blocked out the sky. Negotiating the congested streets, where stagecoaches and private carriages battled for passage with farm carts and livestock seemed hopelessly confusing; the sounds of horses’ hooves, creaking wheels, and complaining cattle were deafening. Mud, animal dung, refuse, and human waste splashed pedestrians as they walked the pavements and tried to dodge the swinging shop signs, speeding bearers of sedan chairs, and downpours of foul water from upper-story windows. By late afternoon oil lamps lighted the smoky streets and candles illuminated shop windows displaying silk clothing and exquisite jewelry, their luxury forming a pantomime backdrop to the squalor of ragged children begging in the gutters.” (Pg 24)
A few other excerpts:
“On the treacherous high seas, British adventurers were risking their lives to claim uncharted territories for king and country, beating off European rivals in the struggle for global domination. Success brought not only immediate fortune but lasting fame: The victors’ names would be forever commemorated in some remote mountain or coastal feature. The exploration of the human body was no different. Across Europe, anatomists vied to discover previously unmapped parts of the body, staking their claim to a piece of the human interior. Intrepid anatomists could be assured of immortality through the parts they described; if they did not themselves bestow their names on their discoveries, they could be certain their disciples would arrange that honor. So in the sixteenth century, the followers of Italian professor Gabriello Fallopio ensured his name would live forever after he described the tubes to the uterus. His compatriot and contemporary Bartolomeo Eustachio likewise had his name commemorated in the tube running between the nose and the ear. And in the following century, striking back for England, the anatomist Thomas Willis left his name to the Circle of Willis, the loops of arteries at the base of the brain. (Pg 64)
“Opening a huge sperm whale on a barge on the Thames, standing on top of its blubbery carcass as he had in 1759, he noted that “the tongue was almost like a feather-bed.” With awe, he added, “The heart and aorta of the spermaceti whale appeared prodigious, being too large to be contained in a wide tub, the aorta measuring a foot in diameter. When we consider this applied to the circulation and figure to ourselves that probably ten or fifteen gallons of blood are thrown out at one stroke, and moved with immense velocity through a tube of a foot diameter, the whole idea fills the mind with wonder. Hunter’s poetical descriptions of whales would later be cited as inspiration for Moby-Dick.” (Pg 153)
“John Hunter had spent an anxious spring finalizing plans to transfer his anatomy and natural history collection into its new home…But at last the work was finished and the remarkable building complete. Between the smart four-story town house fronting Leicester Square and the inconspicuous, dowdy-looking house at its rear, facing Castle Street, stretched a spectacular brick and glass structure providing a lecture theater, grand reception room, and a customer-built museum. Accommodating Hunter’s myriad businesses as surgeon, anatomist, teacher, and researcher while also fostering his continuing connections with London’s underworld, the dual-fronted house would later inspire Robert Louis Stevenson when writing his horror story, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Although the plot for the story came to Stevenson in a dream, he is said to have based Dr. Jekyll’s house—the setting for the melodramatic transformation from good to evil—on Hunter’s Leicester Square home. In the Gothic tale, written in 1886, when the house was still a familiar London landmark, the honest Dr. Jekyll had bought his house was still a familiar London landmark, the honest Dr. Jekyll had bought his house from “the heirs of a celebrated surgeon.” Stevenson described the visitors who entered the doctor’s home being led across a yard toward a lecture theater was from the “old dissecting-room door,” which opened onto a dingy thoroughfare at the rear of the house, that the grim-faced Mr. Hyde emerged to commit his murderous deeds.” (Pg 218)
“Enthusiastic young surgeons rushed to the Castle Street entrance to enroll for the autumn 1785 lectures, which began on October 10. After hanging their hats on the pegs ranged in the lobby, they signed the pupil’s register, which was kept on a desk beside the door to the lecture theatre. James Parkinson, who would later publish the first description of the “shaking palsy” that later bore his name, was one of the students in 1785; his notes would form one of the most comprehensive records of Hunter’s lectures.” (Pg 222)
“When Edward Jenner tested his smallpox vaccine on an eight-year old boy in 1796, thus establishing the practice of vaccination, which would save millions of lives, he was studiously following his tutor’s principles. When Joseph Lister tried out his carbolic-soaked lint in eleven patients in 1867, thus launching antiseptic practices that would prevent countless deaths, he was purposefully adopting his hero’s methods. And numberless pioneering surgeons down the years would similarly follow Hunter’s scientific principles in helping to render surgery safe and effective.” (Pg 275)
3.5 Stars
I’m a huge fan of medical non-fiction and the history of medicine so naturally I gravitated toward this title. I will say this wasn’t my favorite that I’ve read on the subject and it’s a bit early of a timeframe for what I typically am fascinated by, I prefer mid-to-late 19th century medicine, but there were definitely a lot of fascinating details strewn throughout this book and…others that were of a rather disturbing nature like the distressing experiments and vivisections John Hunter performed on live animals all in the name of science.
John Hunter apparently had more dissection time than most surgeons of the time, mainly due to the measures he’d go to acquire bodies/animals for himself and for his students to have a “book” to learn from and explore. I mean, I completely understand that these measures boosted the medical field considerably and especially in the art of surgery.
The sample of the book was what drew me in and I was blown away by that first chapter, thinking, “what a treat if the entire book is written this way!”—well the rest of the book fell a little flat compared to all that the very first chapter had to offer! The rest of the story was written in choppy chapters and not tackling the feel of that first chapter transporting me right in the moment. The first chapter called “The Coach Driver’s Knee” talked about how in 1785 aneurysms behind the knee were often a death sentence but John Hunter entered the scene at just the right moment and felt confident with his knowledge of the anatomy of the region to be able to repair the injury. (I won’t go into too much detail in case you plan/decide to read the book).
I just mistakenly thought that each consecutive chapter was going to follow various surgeries/cases he performed/treated and what their outcomes were. But that was not exactly the case…I was just left wanting more of that.
But I guess what came after that first chapter was essentially explaining just how he came to be one of the most sought after surgeons due to his comprehension of anatomy and all the tangle of muscles, tendons, veins, lymph nodes, arteries, organs that lay just below the surface of our largest organ—the skin. “He believed that only by minutely studying the human body, in order to understand the whereabouts and functions of every living part, could surgeons possibly hope to improve their skills.” (pg 7) It is rather disheartening at how he arrived at this knowledge though—with the book going into great detail of how he made animals suffer to verify how things worked just beneath the skin, how organs functioned, how injuries healed, etc. I wish there was another way but I suppose I should be grateful for what these mavericks did for the modernization of surgery and medicine.
This book was riddled with fascinating tidbits like, for example:
“Far from being interlopers in the field of surgery, barbers were the first surgeons. The earliest organized medical care, in medieval times, had been centered on monasteries. But the church frowned on its devotees spilling blood, and so barbers—who were frequent visitors to brethren in order to keep tonsures and beards in trim—assisted the monks in their medical work by excising warts, removing abscesses, and letting blood. The familiar red-and-white-striped poles outside barbershops are leftover reminders of their erstwhile professions. Originally, they signified the bandaged and bloodied stick gripped by patients during minor surgical procedures.” (Pg 22)
And some beautiful descriptions that do help to transport you to that time and place, as in:
“As Hunter approached from the northeast, through the pleasant villages of Tottenham, Islington, and Pentonville, the rough, rutted road became increasingly busy, while houses, shops, and taverns wrestled for space along the way. As he neared the city, the narrow, towering tenements, which housed whole families in single cellars and attic rooms, almost blocked out the sky. Negotiating the congested streets, where stagecoaches and private carriages battled for passage with farm carts and livestock seemed hopelessly confusing; the sounds of horses’ hooves, creaking wheels, and complaining cattle were deafening. Mud, animal dung, refuse, and human waste splashed pedestrians as they walked the pavements and tried to dodge the swinging shop signs, speeding bearers of sedan chairs, and downpours of foul water from upper-story windows. By late afternoon oil lamps lighted the smoky streets and candles illuminated shop windows displaying silk clothing and exquisite jewelry, their luxury forming a pantomime backdrop to the squalor of ragged children begging in the gutters.” (Pg 24)
A few other excerpts:
“On the treacherous high seas, British adventurers were risking their lives to claim uncharted territories for king and country, beating off European rivals in the struggle for global domination. Success brought not only immediate fortune but lasting fame: The victors’ names would be forever commemorated in some remote mountain or coastal feature. The exploration of the human body was no different. Across Europe, anatomists vied to discover previously unmapped parts of the body, staking their claim to a piece of the human interior. Intrepid anatomists could be assured of immortality through the parts they described; if they did not themselves bestow their names on their discoveries, they could be certain their disciples would arrange that honor. So in the sixteenth century, the followers of Italian professor Gabriello Fallopio ensured his name would live forever after he described the tubes to the uterus. His compatriot and contemporary Bartolomeo Eustachio likewise had his name commemorated in the tube running between the nose and the ear. And in the following century, striking back for England, the anatomist Thomas Willis left his name to the Circle of Willis, the loops of arteries at the base of the brain. (Pg 64)
“Opening a huge sperm whale on a barge on the Thames, standing on top of its blubbery carcass as he had in 1759, he noted that “the tongue was almost like a feather-bed.” With awe, he added, “The heart and aorta of the spermaceti whale appeared prodigious, being too large to be contained in a wide tub, the aorta measuring a foot in diameter. When we consider this applied to the circulation and figure to ourselves that probably ten or fifteen gallons of blood are thrown out at one stroke, and moved with immense velocity through a tube of a foot diameter, the whole idea fills the mind with wonder. Hunter’s poetical descriptions of whales would later be cited as inspiration for Moby-Dick.” (Pg 153)
“John Hunter had spent an anxious spring finalizing plans to transfer his anatomy and natural history collection into its new home…But at last the work was finished and the remarkable building complete. Between the smart four-story town house fronting Leicester Square and the inconspicuous, dowdy-looking house at its rear, facing Castle Street, stretched a spectacular brick and glass structure providing a lecture theater, grand reception room, and a customer-built museum. Accommodating Hunter’s myriad businesses as surgeon, anatomist, teacher, and researcher while also fostering his continuing connections with London’s underworld, the dual-fronted house would later inspire Robert Louis Stevenson when writing his horror story, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Although the plot for the story came to Stevenson in a dream, he is said to have based Dr. Jekyll’s house—the setting for the melodramatic transformation from good to evil—on Hunter’s Leicester Square home. In the Gothic tale, written in 1886, when the house was still a familiar London landmark, the honest Dr. Jekyll had bought his house was still a familiar London landmark, the honest Dr. Jekyll had bought his house from “the heirs of a celebrated surgeon.” Stevenson described the visitors who entered the doctor’s home being led across a yard toward a lecture theater was from the “old dissecting-room door,” which opened onto a dingy thoroughfare at the rear of the house, that the grim-faced Mr. Hyde emerged to commit his murderous deeds.” (Pg 218)
“Enthusiastic young surgeons rushed to the Castle Street entrance to enroll for the autumn 1785 lectures, which began on October 10. After hanging their hats on the pegs ranged in the lobby, they signed the pupil’s register, which was kept on a desk beside the door to the lecture theatre. James Parkinson, who would later publish the first description of the “shaking palsy” that later bore his name, was one of the students in 1785; his notes would form one of the most comprehensive records of Hunter’s lectures.” (Pg 222)
“When Edward Jenner tested his smallpox vaccine on an eight-year old boy in 1796, thus establishing the practice of vaccination, which would save millions of lives, he was studiously following his tutor’s principles. When Joseph Lister tried out his carbolic-soaked lint in eleven patients in 1867, thus launching antiseptic practices that would prevent countless deaths, he was purposefully adopting his hero’s methods. And numberless pioneering surgeons down the years would similarly follow Hunter’s scientific principles in helping to render surgery safe and effective.” (Pg 275)
omgbiscoffspread's review against another edition
4.0
Super squirmy to read, but I absolutely loved it. Gross and at times horrifying, but sciencey and worthwhile.
bupdaddy's review against another edition
4.0
By the rules of non-fiction books, there must be a subtitle - and this one's a doozy: "Blood, Body Snatching, and the Birth of Modern Surgery." Our protagonist is a likeable underdog, too - not formally trained, not much for book learning - but as pure an adherent of the scientific method as anybody. More-so than his physician contemporaries, in fact, who were still adjusting humours as the ancient Greek texts taught them.
The book is a nice mix of body snatching escapades, Mary-Shelley-worthy dissections in dank labs, real anatomical history, and a nice portrait of London in the 1700's.
The book is a nice mix of body snatching escapades, Mary-Shelley-worthy dissections in dank labs, real anatomical history, and a nice portrait of London in the 1700's.
teachinsci's review against another edition
4.0
I have read a lot of science history over the years, even so I had never heard much (or almost anything) about John Hunter. In short, Hunter is the man who brought the scientific method to surgery. What amazed me was how little I had heard about this man as the stories in the book mounted and his life intersected those of luminaries of biology like Edward Jenner (who was one of Hunter's pupils). By the end of the book, the reason for his absence from histories was apparent.
As to the book itself, Moore is obviously very passionate about JohnHunter's life and spreading his story. There are definite themes about Hunter being ahead of his time/misunderstood. Because of this repeated pattern in his life, the book did have some slow spots. I also believe that because of Moore's enthusiasm, she overlooks (or at least minimizes) some of the flaws that lead Hunter to cultivate bitter life enemies and to leave his family destitute when he died. All in all a wonderful history and I enjoyed learning about a new (to me) hero of science.
As to the book itself, Moore is obviously very passionate about JohnHunter's life and spreading his story. There are definite themes about Hunter being ahead of his time/misunderstood. Because of this repeated pattern in his life, the book did have some slow spots. I also believe that because of Moore's enthusiasm, she overlooks (or at least minimizes) some of the flaws that lead Hunter to cultivate bitter life enemies and to leave his family destitute when he died. All in all a wonderful history and I enjoyed learning about a new (to me) hero of science.
audaciaray's review against another edition
4.0
A fascinating and sometimes gorily-detailed biography of an eighteenth century surgeon, anatomist, and naturalist. I just loved this book - the science/knowledge stuff is interesting (especially if you're interested in being horrified by medical practices of the 18th century), the characters are lively, and the details are... well, very detailed. Wendy Moore really transports you into Hunter's anatomy rooms and takes you into the grisly depths of rotting corpses, meticulous anatomical preparations, and ill-advised surgeries.
There are actually TWO Hunters who are significant in the history of surgery, medicine, and anatomy: John Hunter, who the book focuses on, and William Hunter, his older brother. Both are really interesting figures - John was more brash and outlandish (he drove a carriage pulled by Asian buffalos), William was more professionalized (he was obstetrician to royalty) - I'd be interested in Moore's rationale for her focus on John. Though it would've been a very different book, I'd have been interested to see more written about William's work and the space each of them created in medical culture and British society at large.
There are actually TWO Hunters who are significant in the history of surgery, medicine, and anatomy: John Hunter, who the book focuses on, and William Hunter, his older brother. Both are really interesting figures - John was more brash and outlandish (he drove a carriage pulled by Asian buffalos), William was more professionalized (he was obstetrician to royalty) - I'd be interested in Moore's rationale for her focus on John. Though it would've been a very different book, I'd have been interested to see more written about William's work and the space each of them created in medical culture and British society at large.
susanbrooks's review against another edition
3.0
Great portrait of a trailblazer. Scotsman John Hunter was an 18th century pioneer in applying scientific reason to surgery and medicine.
He collected medical oddities, bones, indulged in animal experiments and body-snatching. His curiosity and inquisitiveness are inspiring.
He collected medical oddities, bones, indulged in animal experiments and body-snatching. His curiosity and inquisitiveness are inspiring.