F. Gonzalez-Crussi

This is the second collection of essays by this physician-writer that I have read. Lewis Thomas, another physician, is still my favorite essayist; yet Gonzalez-Crussi is a good writer by any measure, and equally as entertaining, insightful, and informative. In the final analysis, I suppose, both of them qualify for that sparsely populated category of brilliant writers who both write with rare elegance and contribute mightily to good thinking. The collection's title is taken from the title of show more one of the essays, in which we learn that the chief function of the Chief Medical Examiner is to investigate "unnatural death," which must be categorized into one of only three possibilities: suicide, homicide, or accident. We are told of a case of three vagrants found dead in the New York City subway system, each with a carbonized penis. The Medical Examiner concluded that the three, who had been drinking together, had lined up at the edge of the platform to urinate. As the salt-laden liquid hit the track, the electricity that moves the subway went upstream in the urine to obliterate three penises and electrocute their owners. Thus is the first form of sudden death, by lightning or other electrocution. The second is asphyxiation. With our breathing dependent totally on a clear windpipe, Gonzalez-Crussi reminds us, "an olive, a cherry, or a small pebble may kill us." He takes us through the dangers of choking and sleep apnea before moving on to the third form of sudden death, "unknown causes." While Three Forms of Sudden Death is a catchy title, it is not the most entertaining nor the most informative of the ten essays. We are treated to a scientific discussion of cannibalism, complete with a consideration of ritual cannibalism versus nutritional cannibalism. In another essay, he proposes a modern version of alchemy: "the transmutation of excrement into certificates of deposit." Even in jest, his philosophical reflections hold the ring of truth. I opened this volume with expectations of being as entertained with humor and medical fact as I was with his On the Nature of Things Erotic, and I was not disappointed. (December 2006) show less

This memoir covers the author’s life from his childhood in Mexico through his medical residency at a Colorado community hospital. The author was raised in Mexico City. His father’s death due to alcoholism left the family in a precarious financial position. Their only asset was a small pharmacy, which the author helped his mother run after school.

The chapters are episodic and are not entirely chronological. The author shares memories of his childhood and youth, stories he heard about his show more grandmother’s and mother’s lives before his birth, stories about his Jewish neighbors who became his best friends, incidents from his school days, how his father’s drinking affected his family, people he met while working in the pharmacy, and stories about fellow students in his medical school. Gonzalez-Crussi has a philosophical bent, and he frequently quotes classical works and authors in Latin. The contemplative tone seems designed to appeal to the reader’s intellect rather than their emotions, and the emotional distance seems intentional. show less

An entertaining, if over-stated, collection of essays. Lots of entertaining details and above average prose does not quite overcome the lack of overall cohesion. A quick, diverting read, but ultimately skippable. Read more Oliver Sacks instead.

Superb writing, entertaining, fascinating facts, thoughtful observations. Gonzalez-Crussi is an expert essayist of the calibre of Lewis Thomas. But not quite. Gonzalez-Crussi has a vigorous, distinctly masculine style, like a tango, maybe. Thomas is always a symphony that permeates every cell. Enough nit-picking. Superb writing is a joy to read.