Siegfried Kra

Siegfried Kra's Nine Lives reads like a three-way tug of war between writing modes, any one of which could serve his ends (if such were clearly defined) but used in combination, they do not synergize very well. He could take his long life's wisdom and incorporate it into a fictional story. Fiction is arguably the most powerful of literary styles. He could focus on a few themes and write a philosophically focused book of non-fiction, or he could write a more clearly themed autobiography about being a doctor and fitting the medical world into the layperson's world.

The tack he has taken, however, reads more like a collaboration between Steven J. Gould and Danielle Steele only without the poignancy of the former author or the style of the latter one. He has a pleasantly fluid writing style with briefly engaging passages. In fact, the first part of the book (and later sections too) feel composed for the Hallmark Channel. Were he unhindered by the autobiographical need to write everything from the 1st person perspective, he could run with a great story using his life as a template. Such as it is, I read 50% of the way into the book and asked myself, “why am I reading this?” The answer, I thought, might lay in some deep wisdom about the medical world or some poignant life philosophy, or perhaps a well paced story, but through to the end I never really found an answer to the question.

Elsewhere on Librarything, I reviewed Kra's Dancer in the Garden. Rereading that review, I realized that my opening paragraph for Dancer would serve equally well for this review almost verbatim. Both books cover similar territory, and to read one is sufficient. In fact, my underwhelmed view of Nine Lives may stem directly from having already read the other book. Of the two, I recommend Dancer.

There are some great sections, and a wonderful subplot is about a woman named Monique. I won't elaborate on her for the sake of not spoiling plot. However, I'll say that his time with her and her plight in life cry out for a novel. The same can be said of one Madam Corot. The best bit of medical wisdom in the book comes from her life story. It concerns how a doctor should play the system for each patient in a personalized way. If Kra would divorce himself from the mildly narcissistic autobiographical approach, he could really write a great piece of fiction centered about these two women.… (mer)

I enjoy trying a "wild card" book now and then, i.e. by an unlikely author I've never heard of. So here's Dr Siegfried Kra, pushing 90, with this delightful little collection of true stories from his long life and medical practice. Kra came to America in 1938 as a boy when his family fled the Nazis. After working his way through CCNY, he found himself blackballed by U.S. med schools in the 1950s because he'd been marked as an agitator, so he went to Europe to study medicine in France and Switzerland. One of the best and most moving pieces here dates back to his med student days in Switzerland, where he lost his heart to a beautiful young dancer, a tb patient in a sanatorium high in the Swiss Alps ("Gabrielle's Dance"). Likewise, in "La Femme a la Porte," he recalls an intense affair he had with a mysterious temptress during his med student year in Toulouse, France in 1952. And the book's title comes from an odd little anecdotal take about his one-time gardener and his gorgeous companion ( "The Nocturnal Gardener" ). And "Coke on a Hot Day" is NOT about a simple, refreshing soda pop. "I'm Fine" describes his near-death experience with multiple pulmonary blood clots, while "Plane Crash on a Frozen Lake" gives us a chilling account of another close call with death. "Edith" introduces us to a sophisticated octogenarian who fears she has contracted AIDS from one of her many lovers. As a cardiologist, Kra tells us in his Preface -

"I take care of people's hearts so they can go on loving. I can think of no greater privilege."

Judging from his long career, I suspect Siegfried Kra must have been a damn good doctor. And, after reading DANCER IN THE GARDEN, I know he's a good storyteller too. Kudos to Pleasure Boat Studio publisher for printing this lively collection. Very highly recommended.

- Tim Bazzett, author of the memoir, BOOKLOVER… (mer)

"Dancer in the Garden" is an autobiographical memoir about the career of cardiologist Siegfried Kra. He writes what are effectively short stories in a very personable style. He does so from a perspective of fifty years in medicine. What he does not do so much is tie the stories together around an easily discernible theme or message unless it is simply to warn of a danger in being tied down to protocol at the expense of humanitarianism..

Strong chapters include a storied comparison between a young lady and an older madame in a tuberculosis sanatorium. In both instances following protocol implies diverging from the whole appreciation of their humanity. Nevertheless, dealing with them requires playing different roles which require a talent for gymnastics.

Another chapter includes a vivid accounting of a plane crash which Kra survived in Rhode Island. He describes a number of human and environmental factors that should have culminated in the death of all of those people aboard, including his own. He makes soft allusion to a guardian angel and also seems to warn against the vice of being pedantic. Predictably, the guardian angels that may or may not exist turned their backs on several victims who were burned to death.

Kra hints at the need for listening - literally and through a stethoscope - as opposed to relying too much upon technology. He does so in a story of examining someone and making a diagnosis of heart cancer. It is about being up close and personal.

One of the very first sentiments of the book and also one of the most important occurs in the first chapter and resonates quite strongly with that of another book of the medical genre, "Tacking on the Styx" (2015). Kra writes:

"“Just touch him,” I tell the masked and gloved figures. “Hold his hand and it will give him a feeling of comfort and security. He won’t be so frightened. It’s an old method I learned in medical school, before you had all these machines.” All medical care should include the ancient bedside practice of taking the patient’s hand. “It works better than Xanax,” I tell them."

Similarly, at the close of Chapter 1, "Tacking" has:

"Before he left, taking his lead from ancient healing rituals and Tom’s demeanor, he took Tom’s hand in one of his and placed his other hand on Tom’s shoulder. He stood in this laying-on of hands for some minutes without speaking a single word. Transfusing a sense of human stability. Then he vanished. Tom flipped back into the abyss of sleep. This laying-on of hands by his doctor would come to be the sharpest positive image retained from his hospital stay, if only for its simplicity."

The mirrored sentiment arises from a reassuringly close consensus between at least one patient and a doctor for what constitutes the best practice of medicine. It is a sentiment in need of emphasis.… (mer)