100 books like For the Benefit of Those Who See

This is THE book to read on the senses, so I’m stating the obvious here. But let me tell you why it must be at the top of my list. Diane Ackerman takes us through a series of sensuous experiences, from extreme cold to a delicious massage to a thought-provoking meal.

But what’s remarkable is that because she’s a poet, her words pull you out of your mind and into your eyes, ears, nose, mouth, and skin cells. Here’s just one line. “Words are small shapes in the gorgeous chaos of the world. But they are shapes; they bring the world into focus, corral ideas, hone thoughts, paint watercolors of perception.” Like it? This book is full of them, and they left me tingling.

Luca Turin, a biophysicist and writer, is obsessed with smell. You know those poetic-seeming, almost made-up descriptors we see in wine marketing? Well, that’s how he talks about smells. Turin also wants to figure out how we smell, which we still don’t know the answer to. Ultimately, by delving into some past research and building on it, he finds some answers, though they’re still not widely embraced.

Burr shares Turin’s story about the complexities of navigating the world of sensory science, especially as a passionate iconoclast. It also left me thinking about the art and science of sensing and about who has more expertise–the seasoned perfumer who can detect the fine notes within a glass bottle or the research scientist trying to describe the smell in a purely factual, scientific way.

There’s a hidden world within our own that's stranger than the best-written fantasy. We humans can't perceive it, but various other animals can, and this book opens the door to it.

Birds see hundreds of millions of colors our eyes can’t. Ants use chemicals we can’t detect to call massive gatherings and spread alarms. Fire-chaser beetles sense heat from fires dozens of miles away.  

The impossible desire to perceive the world in these astonishing ways makes me want to stop every passing butterfly to ask what it’s like to taste things with your feet. Of course, I can’t, so I’ll satisfy myself by enjoying Ed Yong’s thorough research, vivid descriptions, and clever commentary and letting my imagination run wild.

This is my curveball selection because it’s fiction. It’s a dystopian book about our disconnection from our sense of touch, and it so well highlights our fears about technology cutting us off from true experiences. It tells the story of Sloan, who works at a company whose consumers prefer virtual relationships and whose partner believes in something called “post-sexual sex.” 

But she slowly realizes that people, including herself, are feeling deprived, and she goes on a journey to fight for connection. If I had a criticism of this book as fiction only, I’d say it feels very obviously topical in a way that sometimes detracts from the narrative. But as a treatise on the value of touch, it delivers entirely.

In her career, Indra broke numerous barriers (being an immigrant and a woman of color, to name just two) to become a Fortune 50 CEO.

She was a trailblazer and refused to compromise on her values, even when faced with near-constant resistance and challenges. Indra’s memoir is a powerful look at how one woman chose to do things differently, as well as being a call to action for the business world to shift the current paradigm.

These lectures were delivered by Montessori during the first teacher training course given in London after she returned from forced exile in India as an Italian national during WWII. I received lectures based on them during my own Montessori course in London, but not until 2012 were they organized and edited by my good friend Annette Haines, and published as a book. Montessori’s granddaughter Renilde Montessori wrote the foreword. The lectures speak to many aspects of Montessori valuable today such as: education based on psychology rather than a fixed curriculum, education from birth, unlocking intelligence, social development, education for independence, solving social problems through education, when to give children the truth and when fairy tales are appropriate, and the difference between work and play.

A cracking, thorough portrait of contemporary Kolkata as the Bengali capital is now known, by an Indian author who grew up in New Jersey (very much the flipside to Calcutta) and who returns to the city of his ancestors to work for a newspaper. The book is well-written, crammed with interesting anecdotes and historic trivia. Past and present are held against the light and the results are often funny. It’s as good as a book by a privileged outsider who speaks the language is likely to be. Perhaps in another decade, a non-fiction chronicle will be written by a resident non-Brahmin writer. I have a feeling the city is waiting for it. In the meantime, Choudhury’s book serves as an excellent introduction to first-time visitors.

This slim novel I read in one sitting not because, in the way of conventional thrillers, one hopes for a decent resolution, but because the story is so devastating. Its very hopelessness somehow pulls one in. Pandey has written a very gentle account of the very brutal forces ranged against one couple who have committed what can be a crime in modern India – marrying outside one’s caste and religion. 

As much a love story as a traveller’s tale, the wonderful book is more about the relationship between Mark Shand and his trusty elephant, Tara, as it is about India. A truly heart-warming adventure sees the author buy Tara and ride her 600 miles across dusty back roads, through jungle paths, and along state highways, to the world’s biggest elephant fair in Sonepur. Tara, who found a home at Kipling Camp in Madhya Pradesh is still alive today, which is more than can be said for the poor author, Mark, who died in a freak accident stepping off a sidewalk in New York a few years ago. How strange life can be.