A review by davybaby
DNA: The Secret of Life by James D. Watson, Andrew Berry
When I came across the audio version of this book at work, I was excited. I looked forward to gaining a more solid grasp of genetics, and the thought of learning it from Watson was even better. If I'm lucky, I thought, I'll hear it in the voice of one of the fathers of genetics (Watson and his colleague, Crick, were the discoverers of the double helix structure of DNA). He did indeed read the introduction, and it was as interesting as I thought it would be. However, my youthful joy was not to last.
Good books are supposed to teach you about yourself, and this book didn't disappoint. It taught me that, despite the best intentions, I am not built to understand science through audiobooks. Like when I tried [b:A Brief History of Time|3869|A Brief History of Time|Stephen Hawking|https://d202m5krfqbpi5.cloudfront.net/books/1333578746s/3869.jpg|2192250], the reader's words just washed over me, and I would realize that I had been thinking about science in general, or a specific phrase he used that I like, or sandwiches, for the past ten minutes. Invariably I would chastise myself and pull myself back in, studiously listening and staunchly refusing to understand until I passed a remarkably interesting bit of roadkill on the highway.
Don't get me wrong: Watson's writing was fairly accessible, but without the ability to go back and reread a certain line that I didn't quite get, it was sort of like falling down a flight of stairs with roller skates on and my hands stuck in fishbowls.
Good books are supposed to teach you about yourself, and this book didn't disappoint. It taught me that, despite the best intentions, I am not built to understand science through audiobooks. Like when I tried [b:A Brief History of Time|3869|A Brief History of Time|Stephen Hawking|https://d202m5krfqbpi5.cloudfront.net/books/1333578746s/3869.jpg|2192250], the reader's words just washed over me, and I would realize that I had been thinking about science in general, or a specific phrase he used that I like, or sandwiches, for the past ten minutes. Invariably I would chastise myself and pull myself back in, studiously listening and staunchly refusing to understand until I passed a remarkably interesting bit of roadkill on the highway.
Don't get me wrong: Watson's writing was fairly accessible, but without the ability to go back and reread a certain line that I didn't quite get, it was sort of like falling down a flight of stairs with roller skates on and my hands stuck in fishbowls.