Having flown more in the last two and a half years than I ever did in my whole life previously, I've become an accustomed but nervous flyer, and I have to say that I find this book sort of...creepy. Once you've picked it up, it's next to impossible to put down, but you also wish you hadn't picked it up in the first place.

For a start, those who want access (for professional or other reasons) to cockpit voice recorder transcripts can get them over the internet where they're available, and I'm sure there's nothing in this book that isn't available elsewhere. Plus, other reviewers are correct in observing that NTSB transcripts are generally more accurate and specific and less Edited than the ones in this book.

Secondly, I don't know if I like the idea of being charged money for this kind of thing. I wouldn't mind so much if the money were going to the survivors, or the families of the dead, but isn't there something grisly and voyeuristic about paying money to read what are more often than not the last words of desperate men? "More often than not" because most of the accidents in this book involve fatalities. It's the same kind of gruesome curiosity that led to the notorious faked transcript of the Challenger shuttle's last moments (the authentic transcript lasts up until the point of the explosion; the detachment of the cabin from the rest of the airframe would have cut the power to the CVR, so anything you've read that purports to be from beyond that point is very likely inauthentic.)

Having said all that, I'm not immune to the fascination exercised by this stuff. I have nothing but respect for the courage and skill of airline crews. It's just that for some reason, I wish this book had never been published. I think that a more appropriate tribute to the dead would be higher standards of safety and maintenance. Anyway, it's too late now; but why do I feel sort of _soiled_ whenever I've been reading this stuff?