Monthly Archives: September 2025

Replaceable You by Mary Roach

book cover

It’s another photograph of the penis [transplanted from the owner’s middle finger], now with a rustic ceramic pitcher hanging off of it. Exactly as you or I could put a hand out, palm up, and hang a pitcher off our middle finger. The pitcher is hand-painted, white with a red and green floral pattern. I’m picturing the man and his partner again, this time having lunch in the kitchen. A little iced tea, my love?

Eventually the day arrives when no further breach is possible. Mr. Baron, wrote his doctor, Richard Martland, “was now informed, the only chance for saving his life was by making an artificial anus . . . the inconveniences resulting from such operation, were candidly pointed out to him.” Mrs. White, on the occasion of her twelfth day without a bowel movement, is presented with the same proposition. Both patients consented. Or rather, as Pring put it, “did not violently object.” And so it went. “An opening was now made . . . and instantly a large quantity of liquid feces and wind escaped,” Martland wrote. Both doctors were impressed by the force with which the matter was expelled, with Pring taking additional note of the “considerable distance” traveled. – There was no mention of a fan in the vicinity.

This book certainly lends new meaning to the expression “an heir and a spare.”

I imagine many of us, certainly folks of my demographic, have had the experience of having parts replaced, probably because of need, but for some because of choice. I know I would happily have my begrudging spine replaced if I had the chance. And there are certainly a few improvements I could use that would be competing for second place on that list. Thus, my interest in Mary Roach’s latest, Replaceable You. (My ex can attest to the truth of the title’s applicability to the entire me.) Of course, I would read anything Mary Roach has written. She is one of my all-time favorite authors. And just in case her work is new to you, she combines a hard-reporting look at a particular scientific realm with a sense of humor that will leave you gasping for breath. Complete swallowing any ingested liquids before reading her work, as they may come blasting out your nose and mouth before you can get a grip. You have been warned.

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Mary Roach – image from Harvard Bookstore – shot by Jen Siska

Roach has made a career of writing about the human body, from conception (Boink) to grave (Stiff), and beyond (Spook), with travels through the alimentary canal (Gulp), the body’s reaction to space flight (Packing for Mars), to war (Grunt) and even to strangeness having to do with our interactions with animals (Fuzz). This time around, she covers a range of body parts subject to replacing. She sniffs out the history of nose jobs back to the 1500s, and lets us in on why they were in such high demand back then. She brings home the bacon by filling us in on the status of pig research (on, not by) for the purpose of developing organs that can be transplanted into humans, a subject close to my heart.

A formal “miniature swine development” project got underway in 1949, a collaboration between two Minnesota powerhouses, the Mayo Foundation (research arm of the Mayo Clinic) and the Hormel Institute (research arm of pork).

There are sections on the replacement, or enhancement, of sexual organs. One of the opening quotes of this review notes a particular form of actual, not kidding, replacement for a male member. Female anatomy comes in for a bit of consideration as well.

Dow Corning…made the first silicone breast implant, circa 1961, this one at the urging of Texas plastic surgeon Thomas Cronin. Cronin had been “inspired by the look and feel of a bag of blood.” It is hard for me not to picture the scene: Cronin standing around the OR, idly gazing at a bag hanging on a transfusion pole and turning to a colleague: Hey. Does that remind you of something? Cronin contacted Dow, and his resident, Frank Gerow, implanted some prototypes into dogs. The team were “excited” by the outcome—and again, stop me from picturing this.

Continuing downstairs…

Who looks at the human digestive tract and thinks, Moist, tubular, stretchy . . . Might that make a reasonable vagina?

Some, apparently. The derriere comes in for a long look as well. Part of this is a consideration of the changing fashions in tush shape, stretching from sane to anime.

I have made it (well in) to septuagenarian with what is probably an unremarkable range of replacement parts. My right arm was the recipient of two metal plates and a bone graft from my hip after a rather nasty industrial accident in 1970. The plates were removed once they had done their job of helping my bones knit, a few years later. The bone graft helped heal another fracture, and was eventually absorbed back into my skeleton.

Roach tells of prosthetic limbs, and the surprising news that some people prefer them to the original. In fact, the initial inspiration for this book came from a reader who had suggested that Mary take on the exciting world of football referees. Understandably, that failed to score, but it turned out that the woman, who has spina bifida, had a problem with her foot. It had, as a result of her other difficulties, become less than useless. She wanted it removed so she could get a prosthetic, but few surgeons would consider electively removing it. Mary joined her at the Amputation Coalition National Conference, and the game was…um…afoot.

It will come as no shock that using one’s own body bits as a source of transplantation offers the huge advantage of sparing you the need for a lifetime of immunosuppressive drugs. The body’s Studio 54 security guard can take a quick look and wave the new part in as the right sort. It worked for me a second time.

Other recent personal additions were the product of open-heart surgery, three stents and an aortic valve replacement. The stents were made up of material extracted from my right leg, and the valve was contributed by a member of our porcine community. I have yet to experience any desire to go digging for truffles in nearby woodlands.

Roach takes joy in comparing the techniques and tools of hip replacement surgery to woodworking, noting that while patients could actually be conscious during the surgery, the clanging, sawing machinery noise would be so disturbing that it is deemed preferable for patients to remain unconscious for the duration. She says that “Hip replacement has the visual drama of a visit to a Chevron station.”

Sadly, I was born with a mouthful of (well, maybe not born with, which would be weird, but ultimately host to a couple of sets, baby and adult) soft teeth (my dentist’s words). This led, over time, to a need for fillings, caps, bridges and dentures.
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If you count up all the teeth that are removed and replaced with implants or dentures, I bet they would lead the pack in sheer numbers of replacement bits. Mary leads us on a walk through dentures in history, the up and down sides, as well as the benefits of not using them at all. Yes, Geoge Washington makes an appearance. You will find the section on spring-loaded replacements both fascinating and alarming, and concerning as well is the fact that so many people have elected to remove healthy teeth in order to install dentures.

Replacing hair is big business these days. But not just up top. Pubic hair is also replaceable. Not only can the short and crinkly be replaced, with hair from the head, but the opposite can be done as well. Of course this can present some grooming challenges, as pubic and head hair grow differently and behave inconsistently when treated with grooming products. Mary subjected herself to a bit of hair harvesting in her travels.

My donor site is smeared with bacitracin, but no gauze is taped in place, because my hair would get stuck. On the flight home, I will feel the back of my head start to ooze. Do you fly Southwest? Don’t sit in 11B.

She delves into the growth industry of 3D printing of bodily materials. It turns out that it is not so simple as it might seem. Each muscle and organ has particular abilities and behaviors that are very difficult to replicate, involving twisting, contracting, and reacting to incoming messaging from the brain. The Star Trek replicator might do a great job of producing “Earl Grey, hot,” but fabricating people-pieces is proving a much more complex undertaking than sci-fi writers imagined.

Eye lenses are being replaced at increasing rates. There are even many people who, as with tooth replacement noted above, are having their natural lenses replaced in order to improve their vision.

I have worn glasses since I was eight years old, for distance. The only issue I had with them was losing track of them. But in the last few years, it became obvious that there was a buildup of material on the left lens of my eye (not just the product of inattentive eyeglass wiping) that made night driving particularly challenging. Oncoming headlights, even non-bright ones, spread a glare across my field of view that was problematic. I had cataract surgery earlier this year (2025), left eye only. And it worked like a squeegee on a filthy window. The headlights are still miserable, particularly when people insist on using their brights, and when many newer cars use lights that are brighter than the prior generations of illumination, but the improvement in my vision was immediate.

She writes about the processes involved in recovering bio-materials from the recently dead, the potential for banking our own cells as a source for future replacement materials, a machine for offloading heart and respiration work from the body temporarily, and introducing us to the wonderful world of ostomies, noted up top.

Mary may write about science, but she is not, per se, a scientist. Thus, she can offer us an every-person view into the subjects she investigates. She reacts how we might react when faced with the same discoveries. She brings the oh, wow!, the joy-of-discovery moments to life for readers, and thus makes what she has learned stick for us more than it would from any dry textbook. If she leaves you in stitches, that might just be a part of your replacement work. If you burst with laughter, bust a gut, if you crack up or your laughter is side-splitting, that may be why you needed the work in the first place. Of course, if you laugh your head off, there is probably no short-term solution to that. Replaceable You is the real thing, as is Mary Roach. She is one of a kind. Accept no substitute. She is irreplaceable.

Nana takes a seat at Kuzanov’s desk and starts opening files on his computer desktop. After a few false starts, she locates a folder of photographs documenting a finger transplant performed on a cancer patient. Most of the man’s penis had been amputated, leaving him unable to do two of the things most men like to do with their penis: penetrate and pee while standing. The surgery would restore both. – She missed one.

Review posted – 09/19/25

Publication date – 09/16/25

I received an ARE of Replaceable You from W.W. Norton & Company in return for a fair review. Thanks, folks, and thanks to NetGalley for facilitating. And could you check to see if anyone left any spare spines lying around.

This review is cross-posted on Goodreads. Stop by and say Hi!

===================================EXTRA STUFF

Links to Roach’s personal, Instagram and Twitter pages

Profile – from her site

I grew up in a small house in Etna, New Hampshire. My neighbors taught me how to drive a Skidoo and shoot a rifle, though I never made much use of these skills. I graduated from Wesleyan in 1981 and drove out to San Francisco with some friends. I spent a couple years working as a freelance copy editor before landing a half-time PR job at the SF Zoo. On the days when I wasn’t there in my little cubicle in the trailer behind Gorilla World, I freelanced articles for the Sunday magazine of the local newspaper. One by one, my editors would move on to bigger publications and take me along with them. In the late 1990s, magazines began to sputter out and travel budgets evaporated, and so I switched to books.
People call me a science writer, though I don’t have a science degree and sometimes have to fake my way through interviews with experts I can’t understand.
I have no hobbies. I mostly just work on my books and hang out with my family and friends. I enjoy bird-watching (though the hours don’t agree with me), hiking, backpacking, overseas supermarkets, Scrabble, mangoes, and that late-night “Animal Planet” show about horrific animals such as the parasitic worm that attaches itself to fishes’ eyeballs but makes up for it by leading the fish around.

Interviews
—–Stuff to Blow Your Mind on iHeart – Replaceable You, with Mary Roach by Robert Lamb – audio (36 minutes) with available transcript
—–Peculiar Book Club – MARY ROACH is Un-Replaceable! – video – 1:10:03 – from 5:00
—–NPR – From heart to skin to hair, ‘Replaceable You’ dives into the science of transplant with Brandy Shillace
—–Association of Health Care Journalists – Mary Roach calls herself ‘the gateway drug to science’ by Lesley McClurg

Other Mary Roach books we have enjoyed
—–2021 – Fuzz: When Nature Breaks the Law
—–2016 – Grunt: The Curious Science of Humans at War
—–2013 – Gulp
—–2010 – Packing for Mars
—–2006 – Spook Six Feet Over – recently renamed
—–2004 – Stiff

Items of Interest
—–New York Times – 10 Icky Things Mary Roach Has (Unfortunately) Brought to My Attention – by Sadie Stein – from sundry MR writings, in case you have not laughed enough from reading her latest
—–Bauman Medical – What is a Pubic Hair Transplant?
—–Youtube – A particularly disturbing transplantation scene from the 1973 film Oh Lucky Man

Song
—–Beyonce – Irreplaceable

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Filed under History, Non-fiction, Public Health, Science and Nature

Life, and Death, and Giants by Ron Rindo

book cover

At age one, Gabriel Fisher weighed thirty-four pounds and stood forty-one inches tall. It was not only Gabriel’s unusual size that dazzled Thomas, but also his unusual way with animals. As a three-year-old boy, Gabriel would often sit on a milking stool beside Jasper’s chicken coop with a piece of bread hidden behind his back. He’d wait, watching the chickens scratch in the yard until his favorite hen, a barred rock named Betsy, eased her way close to his feet, and then he’d reveal the bread with a flourish. The other hens would race toward him, but Betsy would immediately hop on his lap and peck at the bread until she’d eaten it all. Afterward, Gabriel would cuddle her while he napped in the afternoon sunshine, and she’d turn her beak into the hollow under his armpit and fall asleep.

I recognized myself inside those pages. In a life devoted to goodness, devoted to God, there can still be yearning. A quiet mouth, a devoted heart, does not mean a quiet mind. Sometimes while reading, I found myself crying, overwhelmed by the depth and breadth of Miss Dickinson’s daring, by the baring of her soul.

Some books you rip through, eager, panting, for the resolution of a conflict and the presentation of the next one. Some books demand that you go through them slowly, a stroll hand in hand. Instead of a 5K. Life, and Death, and Giants is a book you want to take your time with, savor, taste, relish, feel.

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Ron Rindo – image from Wisconsin Literary Map

Ron Rindo came across the story of the tallest person ever, from the 1920s and 1930s, and wondered how the modern world might react to a someone of like dimensions.

Just eight pounds five ounces at birth, [Robert Pershing] Wadlow stood eight feet 11.1 inches tall, weighed 439 pounds, and had size 37 feet at the time of his death, at age twenty-two, his extraordinary growth driven by hypertrophy of the pituitary gland. For a time, Wadlow toured with the Ringling Brothers Circus and promoted shoes for the International Shoe Company, but he seems to have sought a normal life, resisting efforts to define him exclusively as a circus attraction. He died of an infection in Manistee, Michigan, and is buried in Oakwood Cemetery in Alton, Illinois. My musings about how the twenty-first-century world might react to a giant in its midst provided the initial inspiration for this novel. – from the Acknowledgments

Giants such as these may have a brief stay among us, but, unlike the “beetle at the candle” or the “Hopper of the mill” can maintain more than their mere accidental existence. (The title of the novel is taken from that of the poem by Emily Dickinson. There is a link to it in EXTRA STUFF.) Gabriel Fisher is a magical person, imbued with qualities of a different realm. It is not just his physical characteristics, which mimic those of an actual human being, or the athletic prowess that traveled with his inflated size, but his kindness, considerateness, his gentleness, and his Franciscan affinity for creatures wild and domestic. A Tom Bombadil comparison would also be apt.

He opened his mouth, bayed like a young coyote. “That’s the boy,” Thomas said, smiling. “Let everyone know you’re here.” From the woods just beyond Thomas’s yard, a red fox barked, and squirrels began chattering. A half mile down the road, farm dogs howled; cattle lowed in their sunny pastures.

But, as great a presence as Gabriel is, it is the other characters in the novel who tell us what we need to know about him. He is a central hub around whom all the character spokes attach and it is their stories that make the novel roll.

“It’s a polyphonic novel, told from multiple perspectives, so in a sense, it’s five different stories,” says Rindo. “Hannah, Doc Kennedy, Billy Walton and Trey Beathards tell Gabriel’s story, but in the process, each of them tell their own story, too.” – from the Madison Magazine interview

Hannah Fisher is Gabriel’s grandmother. She loves him unreservedly, but the code of her Amish religion keeps her at a distance for far too long. Gabriel was born out of wedlock, his mother, who dies in childbirth, shunned by the community. Hers is one of the primary voices we hear throughout, as she struggles with the tensions between her faith, her love, and her sense of right and wrong.

Dr. Thomas Kennedy is a veterinarian, and the other primary voice here. Tragedy and unwarranted suspicion had driven him from a more urban life to this rustic town of Lakota, Wisconsin. He forms a life-time bond with Gabriel by virtue of delivering him into the world. Their connection is a thing of beauty, and will warm your heart. He also nurtures a friendship with Hannah. He is as good a person as you will come across anywhere.

Billy Walton manages a youth baseball team, and recruits the very oversized Gabriel to sign on. He is, of course a marvelous and dangerous player, given his power. Billy owns the local bar, and is making a place for himself after a lifetime of screwups.

Trey Beathards used to be someone, a football player, later a coach, then a drug addict and womanizer. There is much of Trey that is in need to rebuilding. He becomes Gabriel’s high school football coach, and guides his next steps. Billy and Trey introduce us to the great sports myth piece of the novel as Gabriel’s prowess exceeds any reasonable expectation, becoming the stuff of legends.

Most of the primary life tales told here share an arc. A past with troubles, self-inflicted or not, then rising from their ashes to find hope, redemption, or something like it. It is in how the characters behave around Gabriel, how they help him, look after him, care about him that we see a community in action. I am trying not to say it takes a village, but it is unavoidable.

There is a set of secondary characters here who add to the community element of the story, a gay couple who take in a stray, a severe Amish husband who does not welcome any “English” influence, a crusty older Amish man who seems to have burned all his bridges, a brotherly caretaker who goes above and beyond in caring for another.

The lines between Amish and “English” can be difficult to traverse, but Gabriel has a foot in both worlds and helps bring them to a common cause. In a different way, Thomas tries to expose Hannah to possibilities beyond her Amish restrictions. Rindo’s handling of religious and secular perspectives is deft.

You will enjoy the occasional book references scattered throughout, both to specific novels and to other unnamed texts. In parallel with the split between seeking fame versus opting for retreat, there is the tension between looking outward for inspiration and looking inward.

In his day job, Rindo teaches, among other things, the poetry of Emily Dickinson. That appreciation makes its way into the novel in two forms, a book of Dickinson’s poems that Hannah’s mother had left for her, and work left by another maternal influence. The poet’s perspective is woven into the tale, in a concern for faith, for nature ,and for the struggle to figure out how to live one’s best life, alone and in community, and the many sorts of love one can enjoy.

There were multiple times while reading this book that I was moved to tears. Not just for the emotional content of the characters’ struggles, but for the poetic descriptions, particularly of natural events.

Sometimes we feel we are on the scent of hidden things, but we doubt ourselves. Sometimes it’s because we believe we must be mistaken. Other times, it’s because we fear we might be right and we don’t want to be, or can’t be, because of who we are or where we live. But then something comes along to reveal that what we have scented with our innermost soul simply is, and our fear subsides. This revelation was my mother’s legacy, a book of poems she’d hidden, like a pheasant in the orchard grass.

There is no need to fear anything here. Life, and Death, and Giants is a heart-warming novel that will bring tears to your eyes, but which will also prompt you to consider just how to live, and just how society might work with a baseline of respect. It is one of the great works of 2025.

Review posted – 09/12/25

Publication date – 9/9/25

I received an ARE of Life, and Death, and Giants from St. Martin’s in return for a fair review. Thanks, folks, and thanks to NetGalley for facilitating.

This review is cross-posted on Goodreads. Stop by and say Hi!

==================================EXTRA STUFF

Links to Rindo’s personal and Instagram pages

Profile – from Wisconsin Literary Map

An English professor at the University of Wisconsin-Oshkosh, Ron Rindo was raised in Muskego, Wisconsin, and lives with his wife, Jenna, on five acres of wooded land in Pickett, where they raised five children and keep an orchard and an array of vegetable and flower gardens. He has published three short story collections, Suburban Metaphysics and Other Stories (New Rivers Press, 1990); Secrets Men Keep (New Rivers Press, 1995); and Love in an Expanding Universe (New Rivers Press, 2005); and a novel, Breathing Lake Superior (Brick Mantel Books, 2022). His short stories and essays have also appeared in a wide variety of journals, and an essay, “Gyromancy,” was reprinted in The Best American Essays, 2010

Interviews
—–ABC National Radio – Greyhounds, dark academia and an Amish community in new fiction by Toni Jordan, R.F. Kuang and Ron Rindo – audio – from 37:22
—–Madison Magazine – This novel set in small-town Wisconsin is more than a ‘tall tale’ by Anna Kottakis

Music
—–Hungarian Rhapsody Number 2 – in Chapter 8

Items of Interest from the author – Links to these short stories can also be found in Rindo’s website
—–Terrain.org – The Return of Migrating Birds
—–The Summerset Review – Horses
—–Wilderness House Literary Review – The Mystery in Summer Rain
—– The Trumpeter – The Song of the Tree Frog
—–Tikkun – A Theory of Everything

Items of Interest
—–All Poetry – Life, and Death, and Giants
—– Eddie Carmel

For what it’s worth, I had the experience, growing up in the West Bronx, of seeing Eddie Carmel every now and again. He and his parents lived there. It’s not like we ever had a conversation. But my pals and I spotted him climbing into a taxi or other car, feet planted in the front passenger seat. Tush in the rear. At that time of his life, he was afflicted with scoliosis, among other maladies, and walked with at least one cane. While it was startling to see someone that large (believe the 8’9″ number. There is no way he was only 7’3″) it was also very sad. It seemed from looking at him, his face, that this was a man who was in great pain. He was someone who was no longer able, if he had ever been able, to be comfortable in his own oversized skin. Awe was replaced with a very large feeling of pity.

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Filed under Fantasy, Fiction, Literary Fiction