| Recently
I hosted a barbecue to celebrate my 25th trip around the
sun. A friend rang me a few days before the event and asked
if she could bring anything. I replied that she should only
bring her appetite. She then asked me what I wanted for
a gift. I am not a very conscientious gift-giver, and I
certainly don't expect them in return. Receiving them makes
me anxious and mildly ashamed for some reason, probably
because I am afraid that somebody will remember what I didn't
give them for their last birthday. I told her not to bother,
but she insisted. So finally I submitted that I would really
appreciate a good book, for it had been a considerable time
since I had read anything that had interested me much. When
she asked me what kind of book I might like I was hardly
helpful. "I dunno, something good."
 As
I hung up the phone I began to have some uneasy thoughts.
I often browse the Kinokuniya bookstore in the city during
my lunch hour. This store is so vast that one might reasonably
assume that about half the population of the world must
have had something published at one time or another. It
is difficult to comprehend how many people have written
to fill the space, or how many others have toiled in vain
to capture but one spine-width of shelf. In a place like
this one cannot escape the sensation that they are surrounded
by vast human suffering. It is in many ways similar to walking
amongst tombstones in a large cemetery, and somewhat spiritual.
Yet it is rare that I find myself stumbling across anything
of any interest here. If I could not find something of particular
appeal in a place like this, how would my friend find something
to suit my taste?
When
she presented me with Aspirin I was pleasantly
surprised. I had expected something that I had seen before
and had not anticipated a non-fiction work.
This
historical narrative follows aspirin from its first known
uses in ancient quack medicines through the industrial age
and onto the pharmacy shelf. Much of the book is concerned
with the events of the late 19th and early 20th centuries,
a time of great civil and economic change, which helps sustain
a healthy narrative pace. Jeffreys also manages to serve
up many satisfying morsels of trivia, and shifts the focus
of action often enough so that no event or single person
overpowers the importance of the subject. For those who
like to throw useless facts and figures about the place,
there is no shortage of fodder at hand in Aspirin. Although
nit'pickers be warned, at least one anonymous web reviewer
at www.artbookreviews.com
argues that some of the medical detail is misleading, particular
to the statistical analysis of clinical trials that suggested
aspirin helps fight heart disease. Apparently it doesn't
work as well as some studies suggest.
The
attraction of this book is that the author is considerably
less important than the story he is telling, and he knows
it. Jeffreys' style is neither ebullient nor overbearing
like many popular historical commentators, and he capably
explains detail in concise terms. The author's time at
the BBC as a documentary producer is evident in his editing,
which cuts from scene to scene with perfect timing, if
not perfectly logical flow. Although I can imagine others
being annoyed by many variations of place and time, it
is never difficult to find one's way back to the main
thread of the action.
 Aspirin
also has great appeal to the generalist. It investigates
several subject areas from organic chemistry, pharmacy
and medicine, to global industry, marketing and economics.
Jeffreys' thesis that the rise of aspirin was due to the
chance interaction of all these forces is plausible and
could apply to most products of modern times, which makes
this a study of an age rather than a product within it.
Whilst
I would not recommend Aspirin to the High Priestess of
Literature, it is compelling reading for the everyman
or the documentary fan, and would certainly make a great
gift.
Aspirin:
The Story of a Wonder Drug by Diarmud Jeffreys (Bloomsbury
2004) is probably available at your local bookstore, although
since I didn't buy it I don't really know. You could always
try Kinokuniya.
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