Letters: A Glimpse into the Life of Oliver Sacks
LETTERS, by Oliver Sacks, offers a captivating journey through the early years of one of the most beloved neurologists and writers of our time. The initial 200 pages of this collection are truly remarkable and stand out as some of the finest reading I’ve encountered this year. In these letters, Sacks, newly arrived in America and fresh out of Oxford University, shares his vivid impressions with family and friends back in England. His words are electric—filled with wild humor, bewilderment, and refreshing honesty.
Oliver Sacks arrived in San Francisco in 1960, eager to kick-start his medical career. He would eventually gain fame as a compassionate and best-selling author, renowned for elucidating complex neurological conditions in works such as “Awakenings” and “The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat.” Yet, at this early stage, he was simply a research assistant, often going by his middle name, Wolf. His passions were eclectic—motorcycles, weightlifting, experimental drugs, and an affinity for leather.
A new and expansive collection of Sacks’s correspondence, titled “Letters,” has been released. This compilation, meticulously edited by his long-time assistant Kate Edgar, is a treasure trove of insights. While the entire book is commendable, it is the first third that truly resonates with life and creativity. As Sacks transitioned into the early 1970s, he began to experience the encroachment of fame, and his letters took on a more polished, professional tone, losing some of their initial charm. His correspondents grew to include luminaries like W.H. Auden, Jane Goodall, Susan Sontag, and Francis Crick. However, the letters possess a unique magic when they reflect Sacks’s earlier experiences, during a time when he was still discovering his identity. One can only hope that someday these early letters will be published separately, perhaps under an evocative title like “The Education of a Medical Misfit.”
Sacks was enchanted by the vast landscapes of America. Young Wolf whizzed around the West Coast on his motorcycles, racking up an impressive number of speeding tickets. His descriptions of the scenery were not only vivid but often intertwined with references to Greek mythology. For instance, he likened certain rocks in California’s Santa Lucia Range to the “Symplegades,” the clashing rocks that Odysseus had to evade. He even noted a quaint octagonal café, situated 50 miles north of San Luis Obispo, as reminiscent of “Eumaeus’ hut.” In a particularly memorable moment, he recounted running out of gas and attempting to use his disassembled stethoscope as a siphon.
Beyond his literary talent, Sacks was deeply committed to weightlifting, having been a regular at Muscle Beach in Venice, California. He boasted an impressive squat of 575 pounds and aspired to break world records. He affectionately referred to Gold’s Gym as “the old Dungeon” and later called himself a “veteran of the Iron Game.” However, this intense physical regimen took its toll, leaving him somewhat creaky in his later years.
Notably, Sacks did not come out as gay until much later in life. He refrained from divulging the details of San Francisco’s vibrant leather scene to his family back in England. Yet, in a letter to a school friend, the satirist Jonathan Miller, he humorously described the rough trade as “the werewolf crowd.” This blend of humor, candor, and introspection makes Sacks’s letters not just an account of his life, but a window into the mind of a truly extraordinary individual.
