planarlost's reviews
45 reviews

As an agnostic atheist, I found this book to be a mostly-balanced take on the history of the afterlife that matches with other works I've read which mention the history of the afterlife but are not necessarily writing with an intent to prove or disprove it. Ehrman states near the start of the book that his purpose is not to promote belief or disbelief in an afterlife, or Heaven and Hell, but I don't think that's an honest self-evaluation. He seems to clearly want to refute the idea of Hell and prove that it is a man-made invention, far more than he rails against the concept of Heaven.

I've read criticisms of this book which state that Ehrman left parts of the Bible out that defied his narrative, but I think that speaks more to how self-contradictory the Bible is than any crafty or deceitful omission by Ehrman. Perhaps he should have included those verses, but I would argue his narrative works fine as it is. This text is, in my perspective, for people who are interested in a secular review of the historical record on the afterlife.

The afterword spoke strongly to my beliefs as an agnostic atheist, but I could see how Ehrman's concluding thoughts, his admitted fallibility, might ruffle strong atheists and theists alike.

I recommend this book, not as a sole authority on the history of the afterlife, but as one work on the topic that people should read. Ehrman is a scholar in the subject and the density of the text reflects that. Read this, along with other works on the afterlife, and decide for yourself what you believe.

This text is an enjoyable, informative, and substantive read filled with a lot of dates, facts, and names from historical documents. I have to think the reviewers who said they didn't learn anything didn't actually read the book fully or thoroughly. It tells you a great deal about women's sex lives in the Medieval period.

There is humor sprinkled throughout the chapters, some of which elicited chuckles from me, and none of which seemed egregiously harsh toward or critical of men. The humor isn't necessary, and without it, the book would still be great, but it generally didn't detract from my experience. I might encourage offended reviewers to lighten up.

The author has said in reply to some reviews that the publisher excluded her appendix of citations and she had no choice in the matter, so I don't fault her for that. She names and details her references when they come up. Devoted readers could find many online if they so decide.

I would recommend this work to anyone interested in women's history, especially in the Medieval period. It's a fine secondary source that can lead you to a number of primary sources. You'll probably get a few laughs at the author's occasional jokes. Even if you don't, there's still enough interesting information to keep you invested.

I've never read a book as simultaneously tedious and interesting as this one. I was both engaged while reading it and wishing the author would hurry up and get to his conclusion. For fans of Foucault, I am aware that Foucault is considered highly influential, even to this day.

I don't think his arguments came across as incorrect, generally. But the text is repetitive (the word "discourse" is used over 200 times in under 170 pages) and fairly vague. Being someone who reads a lot of scholarly works related to history and social science, I am accustomed to a more academic and modern approach to argumentation, incorporating dates, citations, and data. This work reads like the writing of someone born in the 1920s who was a philosopher first.

That isn't a criticism of the volume so much as a way of describing why I didn't find it exceptionally compelling. The text is filled with interesting ideas and interpretations, but it doesn't offer much in terms of empirical support for itself. Again, that probably wasn't the purpose.

If you prefer reading philosophical reflections on historical subjects, you'll likely enjoy this book.

Interesting and informative, if you enjoy reading on Medieval history.

I would read it again and recommend it to anyone, along with the other works in the series.

If you are interested in learning more about neuroplasticity, this is a fantastic book; accessible and engaging. It won't tell you a lot about the structure of the brain or its specific areas, but it will, using case studies, tell you a great deal about the brain's ability to adapt, as well as its rigidity. The book covers individuals overcoming mental and physical impairments due to congenital problems or strokes along with sexual plasticity. It covers rarer and more common circumstances.

I would recommend this text to anyone interested in the brain. I learned a fair amount and even picked up tips on how to keep my own brain sharp, and for what I might do, or what types of therapy I might pursue, if I ever suffer something such as a debilitating stroke. Even if you aren't tremendously interested in the brain, this book could be useful to you for those reasons.

This book is informative and the author's writing style is the most engaging I've encountered in the history genre. This book made me a fan of Dan Jones.

I've read this book more than once due to coursework related to criminology and psychology. While I do think Zimbardo conveyed his findings with (almost excessive) transparency, this book having been written well after the experiment, it’s safe to say that by modern standards, and perhaps to some extent standards of the day, his work was obviously unethical.

Aside from offering money to participants, there wasn’t a lot of direct value to them in the research, although many of the subjects (24) perceived themselves as working to benefit science, and the research was framed as such. Zimbardo conceded in this book that the work was not very generalizable since it relied entirely on a meager convenience sample (mostly Stanford students, though as I recall, he said that not all of the participants were students). Furthermore, the quality of the simulation of a prison environment (they worked in a makeshift prison environment constructed in a Stanford University basement) was questionable.

In any case, the study's lack of ethical rigor is clear. Participants were regularly subjected to intentional distress by participant guards in authority over them (a couple days into the experiment, some of the volunteer prisoners were planning escapes and riots). Participants were regularly locked in a “hole” for extended periods for defiance of the guards (in some cases, for refusing to eat). Participant prisoners were lied to about being able to leave the experiment, both by their fellow prisoners and by Zimbardo himself (more so through a lie of omission in the case of the latter).

Dr. Zimbardo established a relationship of trust with the volunteers, both prisoners and guards, to some extent. Most trusted him as a scientific researcher primarily and in his roleplay as prison superintendent, and he effectively abused that trust in some cases by, as noted, doing things such as letting prisoners believe they couldn’t leave. (There was, if I remember rightly, at least one participant who believed that Dr. Zimbardo was a government operative trying to find ways to break the will of anti-war protesters.)

While most of those in guard roles did not viciously abuse their authority, participant prisoners were regularly degraded by their peer guards. They were made to stand for long periods and recite monotonous phrases and perform pointless exercises; they were forced to engage in sexually revealing and degrading behavior, sometimes with one another. They were regularly subjected to disruptions of their sleep by being woken up at odd hours and forced to do things such as engage in physically-exhausting activity like jumping jacks.

I think Dr. Zimbardo’s research would’ve had the same ethical considerations as work done with Genie Wiley. Though, in her case, I think the research “on” or with her was conducted more ethically than the research carried out by Dr. Zimbardo (and the findings were probably of more value to psychology). I’m not sure Dr. Zimbardo’s study idea could be carried out ethically.

Overall, the book is interesting because it offers an insight into a famous and classical experiment, similar to the Milgram Experiment (also unethical by modern standards). The studies are interesting because they are unique to their time and would not occur today. Their value to science, either criminological or psychological, lies more in their existence as measures of ethical evolution throughout history than their findings themselves, which are largely worthless.

I give this book a 4/5 because it's a seminal work in traditional criminology and a popular theory. The book itself is fairly repetitive and now dated, but I didn't score it for that.

The main issue GST has is the one most criminological theory has. Namely, that it discounts or disregards important underlying class issues and structures of power and inequality (by socioeconomic status, gender, and race, especially). GST is rooted in the idea of crime as an objective phenomenon, and so it fails to explain why certain crimes exist in the first place. GST is reactive theory with a limited scope, not proactive or even thoroughly preventative.

On the other hand, these are the areas in which critical theory and punishment theories shine (along with even some psychological theories). If you want to truly understand crime, read about those instead. But if you are interested in the narrow view of criminology's popular theories, and perhaps an important part of its traditional history of thought, this book is worth a read.