Michael S. A. Graziano

Pretty good book, except the last couple chapters. Most of the book is a brief but good explanation of his theory of consciousness and attention, which I had seen before in a previous book of his, but the explanations here were simplified and easier to understand. But I wasn’t impressed by the last couple chapters — speculation about the possibilities of artificial consciousness and even worse about the possibilities of mind-uploading. These chapters should have been left out of the show more book. However, don’t skip the appendix! It’s a great brief summary of the way his theory of consciousness and attention (as outlined in the good first 7 chapters) could be used to set up a rudimentary computer prototype of his theory. show less

"Rose would twist herself down between us in angular spasms until she was sitting on the floor, one hand cupped gently around my ankle, the other hand around Henry's ankle. In this way she held us together, as if she were a telegraph, as if she felt the need to physically hold us in order to transmit her thoughts to us. She would hum, her head resting against my thigh or his. That was her hobby and her obsession." -- From The Divine Farce

Although I finished The Divine Farce weeks ago, I show more just couldn't bring myself to write a review. Why? Well, at the risk of sounding hyberbolic--it's not easy to review utter genius.

I feel inept, really, attempting to review The Divine Farce. Both my husband and I felt that we're in the presence of a literary giant when we read both Love Song of Monkey and The Divine Farce...that Michael S.A. Graziano will be "our little secret" until his name graces the annals of literary criticism, college textbooks and lists of "recommended reading" for students.

The premise for The Divine Farce appears rather simple: two men and a woman are trapped in a cement cylinder with grates at the top and bottom. A sweet liquid showers them regularly, providing them with sustenance (and, according to Brian, skin conditioning). They are pressed up against one another, with only Rose able to crouch down in some semblance of a seated position.

Their world is pretty much between the ears: the imaginings of appearance, consideration of words spoken, interpreting physical touch.

Not content to leave well enough alone, Brian begins to work at the cement wall, memorizing every smooth bump with his fingers, his tongue.

But then the hole.

What is beyond their cylindrical prison? Or is that cylindrical heaven? Or cylindrical fantasy?

Author Graziano wraps Brian's epic journey in poetic metaphor, delivered through the messy, instinctual urges of humanity. Some scenes will make your queasy, but all of them will make you think.

In fact--and here comes more seemingly hyperbolic observations (but I assure you I lie not)--I dare you to see the world the same way after reading The Divine Farce.

I'll leave you with another passage from The Divine Farce:

"Our world was made of intricate, interlocking strands of music--anger and resentment, despair, loyalty, trust, humor, contempt, forgiveness, alliances switching and switching, Rose, Henry, Brian, primary colors, however harsh, however outrageous, as long as the parts fit together into the workings of a larger whole. A tessellation, a giant unity.

Love."

-- Janet Boyer, author of Back in Time Tarot

P.S. Look for the interesting design features within the book that reflect the plot. show less

How do we become aware of things? How do we become aware that we are aware? How does this awareness shape the way we think about ourselves and others? And how does this awareness become what we call “consciousness”? These are very complicated and heady questions. Psychology and neuroscience have grappled with them for years (and will continue to do so well into the future). But Michael Graziano, in Consciousness and the Social Brain, tries to parse through all the ideas and data show more surrounding awareness in order to come up with a viable theory that explains this basic human process.

This is not a easy book to read. You have to muscle through both the technical neuroscience bits and the linguistic gymnastics that tie together the concepts of attention, awareness, and consciousness. But once you make it through all that, though, there are a lot interesting theories concerning how the human brain actually may become aware of things and itself. One of the recurring motifs in Graziano’s theory is the idea of the “strange loop.” Imagine two mirror facing each other. They both reinforce and reflect each other, but any action made to one causes a reaction in the other. Position them better and you get a better reflection. Break one and the infinite reflection goes away. Awareness and consciousness work in much the same way. Each requires the other and therefore reinforces the other. But damage one of the areas in the brain that controls these and the other suffers.

Graziano’s inquiries and studies into awareness seem to place the mechanism responsible in both the superior temporal sulcus and the temporo-parietal junction. These areas contain sub-units of brain matter that interact with each other and the rest of the brain as a whole. He also integrates the processes by which a person stores information about an object or fact and how that information is then access and thought about. Combine this with the twin ideas of phenomenal consciousness and access consciousness and you begin to see just how intricate the theory can get just for a single person. This whole schema is then ramped up a level when you talk about social attention models and how we monitor the attentions and awareness of other people. All in all, Graziano does a decent job at trying to make his ideas accessible for the layman reader. While I’m not clamoring for more, this book will at least broaden your psychological horizons. Or give you a headache. Either way, it’s worth it. show less

Can a science book be also a feel-good book? This one is. Thank you, Graziano, for the lift.

Graziano brings to the table a professorship in social neuroscience, and builds atop the work of Dawkins and others in social memes, to explain what makes us human. He explains the workings of the brain to model the world around us, helping us interact socially and “feel” our way through life. Consciousness, the great mystery of our age, is merely “social perception applied inwardly.” It’s a show more process, not a thing. The book is short and very readable, but if you do find yourself struggling to grasp or appreciate the material, then skip over parts, but don’t put the book down before the final chapter.

Graziano is an atheist who thinks religion is complex and marvelous. That’s a good thing, because he also feels religion cannot be outgrown. He wants nothing to do with the aggressive new atheism which seeks to ridicule the religious into discarding dangerous beliefs for rational thinking. “I simply think that eradicating religion is not possible. It is a fallacy that ignores the specs of the human machine. We are not rational entities. Religion, like all culture, grows on the social machinery in our brains.”

God, it turns out, is the amygdala, though Graziano would never say this outright, and he’ll probably hunt me down for misrepresenting him. His own definition of God is “the perception of intentionality on a global scale. It is the perception of a single, unified mind behind every otherwise inexplicable event.” Don’t worry if this sounds like geek-speak, because the discussion of intentionality will make the definition clear and simple. In fact, everything in the book is clear and simple, enjoyable and unforgettable. Read it! show less