There is a review of Oliver Sack’s memoirs here. I  haven’t read his later books, but loved his earlier ones. And for me, the best ( and best, as in outrageously good) recent book about medicine was Henry Marsh’s, Do No Harm. I find it hard to imagine that either of these lives could now be lived. And medicine— and our world— is much the poorer for it. When we choose students, so obsessed are we with the avoidance of risk, that we have forgotten that the best defence against whatever adversity the future might throw against us, is diversity. Two books,  two lives, and a sense of ennui.

[direct link to this aside]