$26, 288 pages
Here's a quiz. Answer "rarely," "sometimes" or "often" to the following statements:
People are fascinating!
Science writing is best served with a dollop of personal anecdote.
Mice are nice.
If your answers trend toward "often," then Hannah Holmes' fourth book is for you.
In some ways, "Quirk: Brain Science Makes Sense of Your Particular Personality" seems like a natural extension of topics Holmes addressed in her well-received third book, "The Well-Dressed Ape: A Natural History of Myself."
In "Quirk," Holmes again compares human behavior to animal behavior (this time sticking with lab rodents). And she again uses herself as a primary measuring stick, but she's gauging only one topic: personality.
"Quirk" examines the genetic, neurochemical and environmental influences on five factors of temperament -- neuroticism, extraversion, agreeableness, conscientiousness and openness -- offering observations about herself, her family members and researchers she interviews (including Portland's Garet Lahvis) for examples.
Each chapter pretty much follows the same format. A personality factor is introduced -- say, extraversion. Then Holmes identifies facets of that factor that can be discussed in terms of hard science -- in the case of extraversion, that's impulsiveness, activeness, cheerfulness and assertiveness. The associated neurotransmitters are listed, as are brain regions known or suspected to be involved. A three-question quiz then kicks off an in-depth discussion of each facet.
Which all sounds a little dry in summation. Thank goodness the actual prose is anything but. If you're familiar with Holmes' previous books (one was on dust, another on the ecosystem of her Maine backyard) or if you've read her posts on Discovery.com, you know she strives to keep science journalism lively.
Conversational, good-humored and clear, the chapters in "Quirk" hum along, fueled by Holmes' considerable curiosity. And although the quizzes initially struck me as broad and somewhat leading, I eventually found myself cornering housemates and friends, coaxing them to weigh in on themselves (as it turns out, I'm surrounded by extremely altruistic folks).
To be honest (see the chapter on "Conscientiousness"), Holmes' trademark cheekiness sometimes irked me. I craved a little more science, a little less flair. For example, if a book is described as "the one, the only ever, the fascinating book about how real wild mice behave," I want the title. Or if a genetic variation seems to result in "blood-flow differences" in the brain, save me a trip down the Internet rabbit hole, and explain exactly what those differences are.
Perhaps, though, my irritation mostly reveals my own neuroticism. If so, I'm not alone. Holmes' Twitter name is "anxiousmouse," and while that sounds self-deprecating, I think she means it in the best possible sense. Throughout "Quirk," Holmes argues for the evolutionary necessity of diversity, making a case for each facet, regardless of its popular connotations.
So, even the much-diagnosed anxiety has its place in evolutionary terms. To paraphrase Holmes, the anxious child doesn't show up on YouTube attempting to jump off a roof into the backyard koi pond. No, the anxious child is a survivor -- and in the case of Holmes, she paddles into the gene pool, eager to share what she's learned.
-- B.T. Shaw