The book is a long excuse for Masson's personal problems and is interesting only to readers very concerned with Paul Brunton. Masson looks for the worst he can remember about a person, he knew in his youth, and expands on every little word. If I was held accountable for every stupid word and phrase I have myself uttered (and the book is littered with that stuff) then my sisters could have me declared insane. Paul Brunton affected many people and engaged many readers, but to require him to be absolutely right all the time would be to ask for Buddha combined with Jesus. The book makes Masson sound childish and preoccupied with himself. The destroyed childhood, he describes, to me sounds like and extremely privileged situation where several adults deeply cared and paid attention to a pretty uninteresting kid. Get a grip Masson.

I would give this book a zero if Amazon made such an option available. And I would have quit reading it after the first chapter had my book group not selected it for discussion. (What on earth possessed us to choose this book, I cannot say.)

Unless one has a personal interest in Paul Brunton (the guru in question), as do some of the the other Amazon reviewers, the book is boring, superficial and pedestrian. To my mind, the interesting story here is how members of an intelligent, educated, Jewish family suspended their critical faculties and cultural assumptions to became followers of a man who claimed variously to come from another planet and a far off star. But Masson offers no insight - psychological, cultural, religious or other - into the motivations of his father, mother and uncle to reform their lives in supplication to a wacky charlatan. Instead he gives us an event-by-event account of the details of life with Brunton, told in the mind-dulling, repetitious prose of a what-I-did-on-my-summer-vacation type of essay.

Self-deluded gurus are a dime a dozen. Intelligent, intimate insight into what makes others follow them is not. This book does nothing to disturb that balance.

The only insight you'll get from this book is that the author thinks quite highly of himself, with no demonstrable evidence to support the conclusion. I got my copy from the library, and though it was overpriced at that.

Jeffrey Masson recounts his experiences growing up with a family under the direction of self-appointed Guru and misdirected(-ing?) "Eastern Star" Paul Brunton. Masson makes no attempt to hide the illusions he and his parents and sister were held by, telling how "P.B." (Paul Brunton) was able to hold sway over his impressionable if well to do and world traveled, educated parents while himself undergoing no scrutiny. Indeed, I found this book to be a blueprint for many families that have chosen to drop everything, and seek "spiritual improvement" from an outside source. It seems so much easier sometimes to get all of the answers from the source, a teacher or minister, rather than be truely introspective and fix the very real personality problems and faults we all have.

Masson unflinchingly includes excerpts from his younger years, when he was convinced he was on a higher spiritual plane than most of his fellow beings. The arrogance and naivete of his youth is humorous if somewhat worrisome, though we find that he is gifted with a humble introspection that allowed him to outgrow the worst of these. He also explains how over the years through his own education he came to find that most of Brunton's teachings were manufactured or misquoted, the man he'd once so admired didn't know the difference between Sanskrit and Hindi, and certainly was confused as to the texts he supposedly had mastered. Perhaps most interesting, Masson documents his years at Harvard when he has the opportunity to meet other "spiritual" minds in the orientalist religious movements, and discover that supposedly great spiritual men like Alan Watts and Edward Conze were hardly above treating their own families with disregard and cruelty (see page 160). Slowly Masson comes to take critical account of what the "spiritual masters" around him, including family guru Paul Brunton, lack--compassion and a base in reality is traded for the freedom of power over others. Paul Brunton is humiliatingly debunked by the newly savvy Masson upon his return from college--a lesson in developing critical thinking skills and overcoming pithy know-it-all canned "spiritualism" for all of us, written in a thoughtful and reflective manner. Why after all, do the "spiritually developed" so crave the "Maya" of worldly recognition and devotion? Masson is critical too of his old self, and closes on a gentle note.

When I saw the paperback edition of this book in a Shanghai bookstore, I was attracted by its subtitle: Fatherhood in Evolution. It turned out that the author may have read some books about evolutionary psychology and talked to scientists in the field, but in his book he does not discuss their findings and theses. On the contrary, The Emperor's Embrace is part of the backlash against evolutionary psychology - and it is not a convincing example of that kind of writing.

Masson, who received a Ph.D in Sanskrit from Harvard University and later trained as a Freudian psychologist in Toronto, starts from a laudable premise that reminds me of a bumper-sticker slogan used in motivational seminars: if you can conceive it, you can achieve it. In Masson's words: "we cannot test what we fail to imagine". Very true. Scientists must come up with creative ideas before they can put them to the test. And testable they should be, as Niko Tinbergen, one of the founders of ethology (the study of animal behavior) stressed: "because subjective phenomena cannot be observed objectively in animals, it is idle either to claim or to deny their existence".

Masson's favorite ideas which he presents in "The Emperor's Embrace" are: (1) animals may feel the same emotions as humans, (2) animals may be able to exercise conscious choice, (3) emotions may determine animal behavior to a larger extent than genetic disposition, (4) it makes sense to define what is "natural" for an animal species. He is very careful to stress that these ideas are just possibilities which science should not rule out (note the word "may"). To give a couple of examples from the text: (1) "these are the emotions that humans would feel in such circumstances; I can see no good reason to deny them to penguins", (2) "not every male lion kills cubs. Individual behavior certainly suggests, to me at least, individual choice", (3) "tales of animals who form deep friendships across the species barrier ... remind us of the primacy of feelings, of the powerful forces mobilized by sorrow and love and compassion, a power that can even defy the very bedrock of evolutionary logic", (4) "by and large, I think attempting to determine what is truly natural is a worthy goal. We can then always choose to alter our behavior once we know what is natural, whereas if we don't know, we will make false claims resulting in behavior that is much more difficult to change."

I personally think no scientist should attribute human emotions to animals because not only do I agree with Tinbergen, but also because as long as we cannot define what an "emotion" is in a human being we should not try in an animal. A similar argument applies to the problem of free will. Free will is a purely subjective category, a human "user illusion", if you want. As long as an animal does not tell me that it thinks it has free will, I see no reason to assume it actually thinks it has free will. The primacy of emotions over genetic disposition is also an untestable thesis as long as we can not clearly separate the parts of the emotional structure of a human being which are determined either by genes or by learning (the "nature or nurture" debate). Finally, I think it is time to throw the word "natural" on the dump heap of scientific debate. There is no such thing as a "natural" behavior. Behavior results from the interaction of a body with its environment. The body is a very complex issue (ask biologists, chemists and psychologists) and the environment is, too (ask sociologists, anthropologists, economists, historians, etc.). It is simply not possible to determine what "natural" is and then base "good" behavior on that definition. By the way, the "noble savage" which results from that kind of thinking belongs to the 18th century - and there he should remain.

If you like to see animals as human (they may not look like us, but they feel like us...), and if you need to convince yourself that it is "natural" to be a good father - another argument of the book - go ahead, read it. If you think animals should be treated on their own terms, and if you have no doubts about your abilities as a father - don't read it.

This book should be discussed from two views: (1) those steeped in evolutionary theory and animal behavior and (2) those not. Those from the first camp will find many faults in the author's evolutionary arguments, but might profit from taking some of the criticisms to heart. For instance, the author sees emotional explanations for paternal care (maybe the penguin dad feels love for the egg he keeps warm: how to test this?) as alternatives to evolutionary explanations when, if the capacity for such emotions exists, they can be seen as the products of evolution (promoting a bond between father and offspring). In other words, the author poorly integrates what biologists refer to as ultimate (evolutionary function) with proximate (emotions, thoughts, physiology) perspectives. On the other hand, Masson's criticisms of evolutionary perspectives--Why not a greater focus on individual differences vs. species-typical behaviors? Why not always a clean fit between the expectations of paternity certainty, kin recognition theory, kin selection theory, etc.?--merit reflection. To non-specialists, there's more to recommend this book. Masson's accounts of non-human animal fathers are passionate, humane and sometimes beautifully written. Under one cover, one can find an ode to the penguin father, discussion of caring canids, marvel at fish (e.g. mouthbrooding)and frog dads, consider "dangerour fathers" such as bears and lions, ponder monogamy, including that prevalent among birds, focus on paternity certainty, prairie dogs and watching one's offspring leave. That's a lot, and the result is more piecemeal than integrated. If anything, this book warmly conveys the study and thought of non-human fathers, but asks for another book to better integrate examples and adequately apply an evolutionary perspective.

While it is true that Masson asserts some claims in this book that are not yet proven at this point, he also states right away that he IS NOT a scientist. He is however, an amazing author and researcher. Every claim he asserts, while perhaps not backed by biology (yet) is followed by several extremely convincing examples. he has wonderful insight and some delightful thoughts and theories on animal behavior that the scientific community would do well to explore. Because Masson is not limited to the rules of scientific hypotheses, he has the ability to ask, not only "Why?", but also "Why not?" He reminds us that just because something has not YET been proven, does not mean its impossible. We discover new truths everyday. Read this book. Read what he has to say. Allow yourself to consider the possibilities. Ask yourself "Why not?" Then form your own opinion. This book may lead you to think in new directions, even if it convinces you of nothing else.

I have "been owned" by cats for as long as I can remember. Currently, I am sharing my house with three of them. All of them have very distinct personalities and enjoy different things. I would love nothing more then to spend a year of my life observing them and all their little quirks. That is what Jeffrey Moussaieff Masson has done in "The Nine Emotional Lives of Cats". I am not familiar with his other works, but as a cat lover, I just couldn't resist this book.

Basically, I would say this is just what I expected. The author noting the behaviors of his five cats. I was a little disappointed about the small world he lives in but applies to anyone who owns a cat. Not all of us are fortunate enough to live in New Zealand, in a quiet neighborhood that is safe to let cats roam free. And I reject the idea that cats cannot be happy unless they are allowed to roam free. Masson's words almost made feel like I was giving my cats a miserable life.

However, there are very good points. He has pointed out traits that I recognize in my own cats that never fail to make me smile. He gives great historical facts on the domestication of cats, and in doing so, explains why they can never become truly domesticated. I would say this, despite its flaws, is a good read for anyone being owned by a cat, or anyone who loves them in general.

Jeffrey Moussaieff Masson graciously offers us a glimpse into the mind and heart of our feline companions. As a former wildlife biologist, I find this exploration refreshing. Often, he qualifies his thoughts by writing "This is what I've heard." or "This is what I'd like to believe." I enjoyed the author's openess and willingness to let us in on what he really wants to believe while mixing in scientific fact. It was a balanced weaving of both.

I had the opportunity to hear the author speak on his book tour and was moved by his insights. I was also impressed by his strong opinions. Bravo! He believes that cats can't be truly happy unless they are allowed to roam free (cat door or flap). They can be content if confined indoors, but not truly happy!

I was given this book as a Christmas gift and just loved it. I finished reading it two days ago and was sorry to see it end. Although I don't agree with Mr. Masson about one of his viewpoints (i.e., my cats are strictly indoor cats and I honestly believe they are happy that way - and certainly safer in the place we live), no one can doubt his devotion and utter love and respect for these beautiful creatures. If I lived in New Zealand as he does, with a more secluded setting than what I have now, perhaps I could give my cats the lifestyle and outdoor freedom he is able to.

I enjoyed this book immensely and I laughed and cried throughout it. The five cats came alive on the pages; they became my own cats for the short time it took to read this awesome book. I could just see them playing on the beach; running up the path of the rainforest; jumping into the kayak; interacting cat-style with the neighbors' dogs. I was enchanted by the images Mr. Masson described and with the possibility of how things would be for our animals in an ideal world. Perhaps that is what heaven will be like for our pets.

I highly recommend it to anyone who loves and respects the individuality of each cat who graces our lives, and also anyone who can respect viewpoints that differ from our own and can keep an open mind. What is important and apparent is that Mr. Masson is a totally devoted cat lover who respects and appreciates the felines who share our world.

I've passed this book onto my husband who I know will love it too because he loves animals, particularly our three cats. Thank you to my sis for giving it to me for Christmas. And thank you, Mr. Masson, for putting into words a well-deserved tribute to the emotional lives of cats. Although their ways of communicating are different from ours, when you listen and observe as closely as he does, we are ultimately more connected than we could ever believe.

I read this after I read about Masson's adventures at the Freud archives. I'm sure his heart is in the right place, but like 99.99% of the people that get the chance to publicize their opinions (like, in print), Dr. Masson misses the point & produces an errant & jumbled view of psychotherapy & why therapy is no good.

Of course, the thesis is that Freud et al. vastly oversold & even lied about their theories of the human mind & their solutions for the standard troubled mind; hence, all subequent acquiescence to any theory of the mind must be suspect. This is the rationalist, objective view; but it's everything but rational & objective.

Dr. Masson should pay more attention to what therapists are doing today, on a, sorry, case-by-case basis, rather than condemning them based on who they claim as their philosophical ancestors. Dr. Jack Rosen may have committed heinous acts with patients, but what sense is there in comdemning Freud or Jung or whomever for those? It's like blaming Marx for Stalin (which historians do with astounding regularity).

If anyone truly believes they need therapy, don't let this book dissuade you. But perhaps you should get hold of some commentary by people from the early days of family therapy: Minuchin, Haley, Wynne... Dr. Masson seems to have had a curious therapeutic career: direct from licensing as a psychotherapist to rubbing shoulders with Eisler & Anna Freud in London. He wasn't exactly jockeying for position with HMOs. Would that he had had a somewhat messier life in the trenches...