Scan barcode
jguedes's review against another edition
emotional
informative
inspiring
reflective
sad
medium-paced
4.5
esuem's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
hopeful
informative
reflective
sad
medium-paced
4.0
beepbeepbooks's review against another edition
3.0
a little slower than other Berger I've read, but his quiet meditation on the life of this doctor slowly opens up to ethnography, child psychology, and an observation of humanity that speaks to every person trying to leave this world better than it was.
jumperdog's review against another edition
5.0
"It is generally thought that common sense is practical. It is practical only in a short-term view. Common sense declares that it is foolish to bite the hand that feeds you. But it is foolish only up to the moment when you realise that you might be fed very much better. In the long-term view common sense is passive because it is based on the acceptance of an outdated view of the possible."
emmatdr's review against another edition
4.0
Oof. I mean, I genuinely respect Berger but the way he sees women is utterly alien and he barely considers us the same species as himself. I realise he wrote in a different time but for a guy credited with insight into how culture affects our ways of seeing, he doesn’t seem to have spotted his bias here. It makes a book about the humanity of a doctor a bit of a difficult read. When he talks about his female patients, he might as well be a vet.
rozereads's review against another edition
3.0
3.5 Stars
Copyright 1967 -- country doctor in a remote part of England -- both a day-to-day view and a metaphysical one.
Copyright 1967 -- country doctor in a remote part of England -- both a day-to-day view and a metaphysical one.
edders's review against another edition
5.0
To be clear before beginning writing about this book - the edition which I read was with the original text by John Berger and an accompanying set of photographs by Jean Mohr, which added greatly to my enjoyment and which I hope are present in the other published versions of the book.
This book has recently turned 50 years old. It tells a loose and unstructured biography of a rural doctor named John Sassall, who practised in England in the 'Forest', an unspecified community where he treated around 2,000 patients. It is a touching blend of the immediate - the sudden, intimate, painful moments experienced in practice - and the loftiest abstract meditations on being a doctor, on valuing human life, of striving to live well. I have no idea why John Berger wrote this biographical essay; he refers to knowing Sassall over many years. It is a slow and very beautiful book musing on why someone would be driven to accept work in such an isolated but nonetheless communal situation. It is a world which we do not inhabit today. I now wonder very much what those practising medicine in the 1960's would have to say, what a G.P. that qualifies this year would think transported back to that time.
Few of the questions posed in this book are answered, but they are complex and important questions. In particular the purpose of a life, the nature of communicating with others and the value of a life are subjects no two people will agree on the details of. I find it fascinating that Sassall's own medical career and practice shifts from the immediate and the brutal to what today we tritely call 'shared decision making' or 'patient centred care', bland language which seems hopeless and inadequate in describing the need to listen to every detail and read every sign of those who present to us when they are sick.
Though the philosophy and musing in this book rambles and is not always easy to follow, there is a great inspiration within this book and I hope that it is known to many practising doctors today. It is an interesting example, one certainly to keep in mind as the strict boundaries of systems, checklists and guidelines seem to become stronger in their grip over the years on hospital doctors and G.P.'s alike.
This book has recently turned 50 years old. It tells a loose and unstructured biography of a rural doctor named John Sassall, who practised in England in the 'Forest', an unspecified community where he treated around 2,000 patients. It is a touching blend of the immediate - the sudden, intimate, painful moments experienced in practice - and the loftiest abstract meditations on being a doctor, on valuing human life, of striving to live well. I have no idea why John Berger wrote this biographical essay; he refers to knowing Sassall over many years. It is a slow and very beautiful book musing on why someone would be driven to accept work in such an isolated but nonetheless communal situation. It is a world which we do not inhabit today. I now wonder very much what those practising medicine in the 1960's would have to say, what a G.P. that qualifies this year would think transported back to that time.
Few of the questions posed in this book are answered, but they are complex and important questions. In particular the purpose of a life, the nature of communicating with others and the value of a life are subjects no two people will agree on the details of. I find it fascinating that Sassall's own medical career and practice shifts from the immediate and the brutal to what today we tritely call 'shared decision making' or 'patient centred care', bland language which seems hopeless and inadequate in describing the need to listen to every detail and read every sign of those who present to us when they are sick.
Though the philosophy and musing in this book rambles and is not always easy to follow, there is a great inspiration within this book and I hope that it is known to many practising doctors today. It is an interesting example, one certainly to keep in mind as the strict boundaries of systems, checklists and guidelines seem to become stronger in their grip over the years on hospital doctors and G.P.'s alike.