Stiff was on the bestseller lists for a long, long time, and generated a lot of buzz. I expected to like it a lot less than I did, because, while I'm really NOT stuck-up about romance novels, I can be stuck-up about non fiction. If stuff has too popular a feel to the prose, it bugs me.
In Stiff Mary Roach talks in excrutiating detail about the uses to which we put dead bodies - this I knew. I didn't know it was funny. Hilarious, laugh-out-loud funny.
And informative! Who knew that I could donate my body to be used in a car crash, dissected by surgeons, rotted on a meadow, plasticized as an art exhibit - and so on and so forth. I am almost intrigued enough by the museum idea to be tempted, but I think I'll stick with my current organ-donation-bury-the-rest plan out of consideration for the family.
I probably shouldn't have tried to read it during meals, though. That was a mistake.