The only thing I didn't like about the book were the attempts at humour. Gazzinaga, sensible man that he is, obviously admires Steven Pinker and seems to be attempting to emulate both his wisdom and wit. The wisdom is okay but the wit is forced, rarely stretching beyond that sort of irritating breezy facetious brightness beloved of the Dummies series rather than emerging from a genuine way of looking at the world as it does with Pinker.
Having taken the best part of the month to complete Human I've found myself halfway through Neil Roberts's study of the work of probably my favourite modern poet (if you can use 'modern' in that sense any more) Ted Hughes: A Literary Life in less than five days. It's not so much that it's well-written as that I find the subject latter so fascinating. I'll probably be using it as in-flight reading, presuming we get away from Manchester according to plan, along with Orhan Pamuk's The Black Book. It's enough to make me actually look forward to the epic sixteen hour journey to come.
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