Whereas Newton, Hooke, Locke and Descartes were pop stars of the first scientific revolution in the 17th century, Richard Holmes looks at what Coleridge called a “second scientific revolution,” the era of scientific breakthrough between Captain Cook’s first circumnavigation in 1768 and Darwin’s journey on the Beagle in 1831. He does this by a sort of relay, beginning with Joseph Banks, a botanist on Cooks’ ship, Endeavor, connecting him to William Herschel, an astronomer who with his sister, Caroline, revolutionized how we look at the heavens, building the first huge telescopes, including a 40 foot reflecting telescope. He discovered Uranus (insert jejune joke here) which had another, less entertaining, name before the final one was universally agreed upon. He and his sister mapped a host of comets, planetary moons and other astronomical phenomena. From the Herschels we ascend to the world of ballooning, quite a big deal at the time, and mortally dangerous. The Montgolfier Brothers put in an appearance as do other daredevils of both scientific and adventuresome bents. Mungo Park was a world class explorer who combined a daring spirit with a medical degree and an interest in exploring unknown Africa. He sought the origins of the Congo and Niger rivers with encouragement from Banks, by then head of the Royal Society. Humphrey Davy figures large in this tale, sharing most of the real estate here with the Herschels. Davy experimented (on himself as often as not) for years with gases of various sorts. He was successful in the short term in creating a lovely form of intoxication, but in the long run, had hit on a safe way to anesthetize medical patients. Later, as a sort of superstar science stud of his day, Davy was asked to come up with a way to make mining safer. He designed the first safe-to-use miner’s lamp. It cut down on fatalities dramatically, and earned him the gratitude of the nation.

Not only do we have scientific advances, we have the arts of the time. These scientists were not lab-bound nerds. Herschel was a working musician, head of a band, a fellow who dashed off 24 symphonies. Caroline sang at a professional level in addition to becoming the first woman to be a paid, professional scientist. The scientists, portrayed here in mini-biographies for the primary characters, also wrote and often sold poetry. This combination of interests and the personal passion to persist against sometimes daunting odds gave the era its character. It is from this time that we get the notion of a Doctor Frankenstein (based on a real person, who was attempting reanimation) the mad, obsessed scientist, alone in his castle. Could one revive dead tissue? If one did would it have a soul?

There was animated discussion going on about what makes us human. Is man merely a product of chemical interactions or is there some vital force, some chi that exists outside the scientifically observable plane, that makes us human, a soul maybe? It became a major political acid test at the time, probably equivalent to the abortion issue today.

These are all fascinating people, with great accomplishments and plenty of quirks to their credit. The period is dazzling in the mixing of art with science, artists with scientists and the renaissance character of many of the figures portrayed here. It makes you want to know more about them and about the era, as well as providing a contrast to our current age of hyper-differentiation.

Holmes writes with great affection for his subjects and with a charming sense of humor. The golden age of ballooning certainly did include the first members of the Mile high club. It is a fun read with new information around every turn, and offers us an appreciation for what an amazing age that was. It won the National Book Critics Circle award for 2009, among other awards. It deserved to win a lot more. There is only one word that can sum up this book, wonderful.


For a good review of this book, you should read this one.
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/19/boo...

Or this one
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/09/boo...