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The Earth Moves: Galileo and the Roman Inquisition
A cogent portrayal of the beginnings of modern science and a turning point in the evolution of the freedom of thought.
Celebrated, controversial, condemned, Galileo Galilei is a seminal figure in the history of science. Both Stephen Hawking and Albert Einstein credit him as the first modern scientist. His 1633 trial before the Holy Office of the Inquisition is the prime drama in the history of the conflict between science and religion. In Galileo’s day, Rome was the capital of a sovereign theocratic power, which in 1600 had executed Giordano Bruno on similar charges and reserved the right to torture Galileo.
Galileo was then sixty-nine years old and the most venerated scientist in Italy. Although subscribing to an anti-literalist view of the Bible, as per Saint Augustine, Galileo considered himself a believing Catholic.
Playing to his own strengths—a deep knowledge of Italy, a longstanding interest in Renaissance and Baroque lore—Dan Hofstadter explains apparent paradoxes and limns this historic moment in the widest cultural context, portraying Galileo as both humanist and scientist.
240 pages, Hardcover
First published May 26, 2009
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About the author
Dan Hofstadter
18 books5 followersDan Hofstadter’s last book was The Love Affair as a Work of Art, a study of French writers. Falling Palace, about daily life in contemporary Naples, was published in 2005.
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November 14, 2012
In the introductory Author’s Note to The Earth Moves, Dan Hofstadter claims that he is “primarily interested in the arts” rather than the sciences, and that “Galileo’s position within the general context of Baroque civilization has not much concerned historians of science.” Hofstadter promises to “offer a brief picture” of that position. Instead, he devotes only a small portion of his narrative to placing Galileo into the context of the Baroque, but he does produce a taut, almost lawyer-like description of Galileo’s famous confrontation with the Inquisition.
Modern dramatists like Bertolt Brecht have portrayed the proceedings before the Roman Inquisition as a sort of 17th century Scopes monkey trial, where science confronted irrational religion and Biblical literalism. Hofstadter demonstrates that this approach makes for good theater but inaccurate history.
Most modern readers may not be aware of the sequence of the key events that led to Galileo’s dispute with his church. Keep these dates in mind as you read what follows:
1517: Martin Luther publishes his 95 Theses, initiating the Protestant Revolution and emphasizing the ability of individuals to interpret the Bible.
1543: Copernicus (a Polish Catholic priest) publishes De Revolutionibus Orbium Coelestium, (On the Revolution of the Heavenly Spheres) proposing a model of the cosmos with the sun rather than the earth at its center.
1545-1563: The Council of Trent initiates the Catholic Church’s Counter Revolution, responding to the Protestant Revolution, and rules that only theologians, and not members of the laity, could interpret the Bible.
1609: Galileo builds some of the first powerful telescopes, enabling him to see that the surface of the moon was not smooth, that Venus exhibited phases like the moon, and that Jupiter had at least four moons of its own.
Note that the Copernican model of the cosmos had been known and discussed in intellectual and astronomical circles in Europe for 66 years when Galileo first turned his telescopes to the heavens.
Galileo did not invent the telescope, but he built far better instruments than any of his contemporaries. Hofstadter goes into substantial detail to show how Galileo’s design improved upon his predecessors’. He also shows that Galileo’s were difficult to use. Moreover, Galileo was loath to allow others to use his instruments because there was no strong intellectual property protection available, and he feared others would copy his designs and erode his near monopoly. Thus Galileo was able to see things that his rival scientists and churchmen could not see.
The Catholic Church took the position the heliocentric model of the cosmos was contrary to scripture, which in several places describes the sun as moving around the earth from east to west, except for the notable exception when it stopped in its path to enable Joshua to complete his conquest of Jericho.
Galileo’s telescopic discoveries did not actually prove the heliocentric model, but it did enhance the model’s plausibility. The mountains and valleys he saw on the moon showed that Aristotle’s conception of the heavenly bodies as perfect crystalline spheres was incorrect. The phases of Venus made more sense if it were rotating around the sun rather than the earth. And Jupiter’s moons clearly showed that at least four heavenly objects revolved around something other than the earth.
In any event, by 1616 the Inquisition became concerned about some of Galileo’s discoveries and essays sympathetic to the idea of the earth’s motion. They issued a decree condemning Copernicanism as “foolish and absurd in philosophy, and formally heretical” because it contradicted scripture. They were suspicious of Galileo’s thinking on this matter even though he had not published an explicit defense of Copernicus. [A private letter he wrote in 1613 indicates that he was a convinced Copernican.] Cardinal Bellarmine was intelligent enough to understand that the Copernican model was simpler and mathematically more elegant than the earth centric (Ptolemaic) model. Yet because of the scriptural references, he felt that the Church could not adopt a new model unless the proof for it was incontrovertible. He warned Galileo that he could look at the heliocentric model as a mathematical curiosity that could be considered “suppositionally,” but he admonished the scientist not to hold, teach, or defend it.
Galileo was headstrong and truculent, and he was convinced that the heliocentric model was correct. Moreover, he was a better theologian than anyone in the Roman curia at the time. He remained a devout Catholic, but he argued that the Bible was written for simple people as well as for sophisticated intellectuals and that men could divine God’s plan through His works as well as through His words. If God’s words (scripture) seemed to contravene what was manifest in His works, the words would have to be interpreted in some non-literal way.
In 1632 Galileo published Dialog Concerning the Two Chief World Systems. In order to pass censors, the book takes the form of a Platonic dialog in which the interlocutors discuss the relative merits of the Ptolemaic and heliocentric models of the cosmos. However, the spokesman for the Ptolemaic model is clearly a simpleton (named, aptly, Simplicio), whereas the spokesman for the Copernican model is erudite and trenchant.
The Roman inquisitors were not so naïve that they could not infer the obvious thrust of Galileo’s arguments. Accordingly, they demanded that he appear before them. If the Inqusition’s procedures had been anything like an American court’s, the stage would have been set for a dramatic confrontation of ideas. However, as Hofstadter points out, the Inquisition had no interest in debating the relative scientific merits of either position. It mattered not one whit to the Inquisitors whether Galileo’s scientific position was correct. The only issue before them was one of obedience: did he “hold, teach, or defend” the Copernican view. And if they found that he had had the temerity to attempt to interpret the Bible, he would be guilty of violating the teachings of the Council of Trent.
Hofstadter asserts that Galileo was naïve to think that he could convince the Inquisitors through the strength of his scientific arguments. Indeed, the records of the proceedings contain only a few desultory references to the merits of the scientific issues. The only thing that injected some doubt into the outcome was some political maneuvering Galileo’s friends attempted to influence the pope. Fortunately for Galileo, he was not charged with heresy, a capital offense, but merely “rashness,” a lesser offense. The verdict was never really in doubt, but the punishment was less severe that it might have been. Because he ultimately recanted and admitted his “error,” Galileo was only confined to a sort of house arrest for the rest of his life.
Evaluation: Hofstadter’s book is even-handed, thorough, and sympathetic. He shows Galileo in all his brilliance and pig-headedness. As promised in the introduction, he makes a small effort to set the Galileo trial in the context of the Baroque period of art, with references to the construction of great domed cathedrals, but I’m not sure these references contribute much to the story. He is, however, effective in showing that the Copernicans had difficulty in overturning not only Ptolemy’s cosmology but also the world-view of Dante’s Divine Comedy, which was shared by most people of the time. In all, this is a solid historical narrative and a good introduction to an important event in the history of science and its relation to religion and the law.
Modern dramatists like Bertolt Brecht have portrayed the proceedings before the Roman Inquisition as a sort of 17th century Scopes monkey trial, where science confronted irrational religion and Biblical literalism. Hofstadter demonstrates that this approach makes for good theater but inaccurate history.
Most modern readers may not be aware of the sequence of the key events that led to Galileo’s dispute with his church. Keep these dates in mind as you read what follows:
1517: Martin Luther publishes his 95 Theses, initiating the Protestant Revolution and emphasizing the ability of individuals to interpret the Bible.
1543: Copernicus (a Polish Catholic priest) publishes De Revolutionibus Orbium Coelestium, (On the Revolution of the Heavenly Spheres) proposing a model of the cosmos with the sun rather than the earth at its center.
1545-1563: The Council of Trent initiates the Catholic Church’s Counter Revolution, responding to the Protestant Revolution, and rules that only theologians, and not members of the laity, could interpret the Bible.
1609: Galileo builds some of the first powerful telescopes, enabling him to see that the surface of the moon was not smooth, that Venus exhibited phases like the moon, and that Jupiter had at least four moons of its own.
Note that the Copernican model of the cosmos had been known and discussed in intellectual and astronomical circles in Europe for 66 years when Galileo first turned his telescopes to the heavens.
Galileo did not invent the telescope, but he built far better instruments than any of his contemporaries. Hofstadter goes into substantial detail to show how Galileo’s design improved upon his predecessors’. He also shows that Galileo’s were difficult to use. Moreover, Galileo was loath to allow others to use his instruments because there was no strong intellectual property protection available, and he feared others would copy his designs and erode his near monopoly. Thus Galileo was able to see things that his rival scientists and churchmen could not see.
The Catholic Church took the position the heliocentric model of the cosmos was contrary to scripture, which in several places describes the sun as moving around the earth from east to west, except for the notable exception when it stopped in its path to enable Joshua to complete his conquest of Jericho.
Galileo’s telescopic discoveries did not actually prove the heliocentric model, but it did enhance the model’s plausibility. The mountains and valleys he saw on the moon showed that Aristotle’s conception of the heavenly bodies as perfect crystalline spheres was incorrect. The phases of Venus made more sense if it were rotating around the sun rather than the earth. And Jupiter’s moons clearly showed that at least four heavenly objects revolved around something other than the earth.
In any event, by 1616 the Inquisition became concerned about some of Galileo’s discoveries and essays sympathetic to the idea of the earth’s motion. They issued a decree condemning Copernicanism as “foolish and absurd in philosophy, and formally heretical” because it contradicted scripture. They were suspicious of Galileo’s thinking on this matter even though he had not published an explicit defense of Copernicus. [A private letter he wrote in 1613 indicates that he was a convinced Copernican.] Cardinal Bellarmine was intelligent enough to understand that the Copernican model was simpler and mathematically more elegant than the earth centric (Ptolemaic) model. Yet because of the scriptural references, he felt that the Church could not adopt a new model unless the proof for it was incontrovertible. He warned Galileo that he could look at the heliocentric model as a mathematical curiosity that could be considered “suppositionally,” but he admonished the scientist not to hold, teach, or defend it.
Galileo was headstrong and truculent, and he was convinced that the heliocentric model was correct. Moreover, he was a better theologian than anyone in the Roman curia at the time. He remained a devout Catholic, but he argued that the Bible was written for simple people as well as for sophisticated intellectuals and that men could divine God’s plan through His works as well as through His words. If God’s words (scripture) seemed to contravene what was manifest in His works, the words would have to be interpreted in some non-literal way.
In 1632 Galileo published Dialog Concerning the Two Chief World Systems. In order to pass censors, the book takes the form of a Platonic dialog in which the interlocutors discuss the relative merits of the Ptolemaic and heliocentric models of the cosmos. However, the spokesman for the Ptolemaic model is clearly a simpleton (named, aptly, Simplicio), whereas the spokesman for the Copernican model is erudite and trenchant.
The Roman inquisitors were not so naïve that they could not infer the obvious thrust of Galileo’s arguments. Accordingly, they demanded that he appear before them. If the Inqusition’s procedures had been anything like an American court’s, the stage would have been set for a dramatic confrontation of ideas. However, as Hofstadter points out, the Inquisition had no interest in debating the relative scientific merits of either position. It mattered not one whit to the Inquisitors whether Galileo’s scientific position was correct. The only issue before them was one of obedience: did he “hold, teach, or defend” the Copernican view. And if they found that he had had the temerity to attempt to interpret the Bible, he would be guilty of violating the teachings of the Council of Trent.
Hofstadter asserts that Galileo was naïve to think that he could convince the Inquisitors through the strength of his scientific arguments. Indeed, the records of the proceedings contain only a few desultory references to the merits of the scientific issues. The only thing that injected some doubt into the outcome was some political maneuvering Galileo’s friends attempted to influence the pope. Fortunately for Galileo, he was not charged with heresy, a capital offense, but merely “rashness,” a lesser offense. The verdict was never really in doubt, but the punishment was less severe that it might have been. Because he ultimately recanted and admitted his “error,” Galileo was only confined to a sort of house arrest for the rest of his life.
Evaluation: Hofstadter’s book is even-handed, thorough, and sympathetic. He shows Galileo in all his brilliance and pig-headedness. As promised in the introduction, he makes a small effort to set the Galileo trial in the context of the Baroque period of art, with references to the construction of great domed cathedrals, but I’m not sure these references contribute much to the story. He is, however, effective in showing that the Copernicans had difficulty in overturning not only Ptolemy’s cosmology but also the world-view of Dante’s Divine Comedy, which was shared by most people of the time. In all, this is a solid historical narrative and a good introduction to an important event in the history of science and its relation to religion and the law.
September 11, 2015
Subtitle: Galileo and the Roman Inquisition
This is another title in the (excellent) Great Discoveries series. Like past volumes I've read, on figures like Darwin and Copernicus, this one is about a figure so iconic in the history of human thought that he is almost obscured, as a mortal man, by the legend that has grown around him. Thinking about Galileo as a human being is almost like thinking about George Washington as an American citizen; not impossible, but harder than for most of us. Hofstadter's job is to try to wipe the gauzy (dusty?) web away and show us what Galileo Galilei, Italian and Renaissance man and student of optics and telescope maker (and seller), was really like.
In fact, Hofstadter does this, but what is more impressive is what he is able to do with (for?) the villain of this tale, Pope Urban VIII, the former friend and patron of Galileo who ultimately is responsible for the trial for heresy which made Galileo a hero of science. There is not any plausible rendering of the tale which will rescue Urban from the villain's role, but Hofstadter allows us to see at least what Urban thought he was doing, and thought he was protecting. It was not simply (according to Hofstadter) the primacy of the Bible, or the papacy, but a vision he had of a European civilization brought out of the Dark Ages into the light of Renaissance art, Catholic morality, and papal-enforced peace. To us, it looks like an Orwellian vision of conformity, but in Urban's mind it was a world with more grace and beauty than the centuries before had given, and not primarily meant to glorify himself, but God and man.
Unfortunately for Urban, and especially for Galileo, it was a doomed vision. Hofstadter does a good job of explaining how the same advances in understanding of optics which had enabled Renaissance artwork, were also central to the advancing craft and science of making telescopes. Galileo (and others, it should be noted) made increasingly effective telescopes, and they made it impossible for all Europeans to maintain a number of pious mythical beliefs:
1) that the Moon, associated with Mother Mary, was not perfect. This is hard for modern minds to imagine as a plausible theory in any level of technology, but before the telescope many learned men said that the apparent blemishes on it were but reflections of Earth (and its many seas and forests), and the Moon itself was mirror-perfect. Galileo's telescope made it clear that the moon (small m) had mountains, valleys, craters, and all the imperfections of age
2) that the stars do not all move across the celestial sphere in unison; in other words, there is stellar parallax. This shows that the stars (even exempting the planets) are not all in a single sphere.
3) that there were moons orbiting Jupiter. In theory there is nothing about moons orbiting Jupiter that is incompatible with Jupiter orbiting the Earth, but once you have admitted into your imagination that things can orbit something other than the Earth, it's not far before the evidence will point to the sun rather than the earth as the most likely thing for the planets to orbit around.
Galileo's trial was a strange affair, to modern eyes, and most closely resembles what we would call a kangaroo court. The truth or falsity of Galileo's ideas or the evidence he had seen through the telescope was not only not examined, it was not considered relevant. The only issue at question was, not even whether or not he had endorsed Copernicanism, but whether or not he did so knowing that it was forbidden by the Church. In other words, the trial resolved around this issue: was Galileo trying to think for himself, contrary to the edicts of the Church on this particular issue?
This is a tough thing for a modern author to portray in any shades other than black and white. Hofstadter, while clearly in sympathy with Galileo rather than Urban, does his best to show Urban and the court around him as something other than leering villains. In fact, they were something far more tragic (and far more likely to be cruel and destructive): they were humans confronting a universe that does not work the way their mental model of it says it should. Eventually, the Earth-centered view of the universe would fall before the onslaught of telescopic (and other) evidence, but in Galileo's time it was (just) possible to cling to it. Even Pope Urban VIII, however, knew at some level that the geocentric theory's position was tenuous, and the Reformation in northern Europe (where individuals such as Johannes Kepler were using telescopes to convince local nobility of the Copernican model) added to the papal insecurity. This was the time of the counter-Reformation, and Rome was in no mood to tolerate dissent, even compared to previous centuries.
In the end, though, it was the papacy that was broken by Galileo's trial, not the heliocentric model. The Copernican Revolution, in fact, came to be seen not just as the idea that the earch revolves around the sun, but more generally as the idea that It's Not All About Us. Darwin's idea that we humans were created by the same process that created all other life, Hubble's idea that our Sun's own galaxy was not the only galaxy (and not a particularly important or impressive one), all fall in a chain of scientific discoveries that have gradually caused us to see the universe as being vaster, and less concerned with humans, than the model which the Vatican at the time was attached to. In essence, it was Galileo's trial more than anything else that gave learned Europeans the impression that the Catholic Church was opposed to science, when throughout the Middle Ages it was the Church that had seemed to preserve learning while kings and armies disregarded it. Galileo was forced to recant, and lived out the rest of his life under house arrest. But the Catholic Church lost the hearts and minds of Europe's greatest thinkers from that day until today; it was not until Pope John Paul II's papacy that the Catholic Church officially expressed regret. Galileo, who spoke the truth as he saw and was condemned by the Powers That Be, became part of the lore of science history.
But, before he was a myth or a hero, he was this guy, who noticed these things when he looked in his telescope. That Galileo is one that we don't hear (read) as much about. Hofstadter brings him back for us to look at. Check it out.
This is another title in the (excellent) Great Discoveries series. Like past volumes I've read, on figures like Darwin and Copernicus, this one is about a figure so iconic in the history of human thought that he is almost obscured, as a mortal man, by the legend that has grown around him. Thinking about Galileo as a human being is almost like thinking about George Washington as an American citizen; not impossible, but harder than for most of us. Hofstadter's job is to try to wipe the gauzy (dusty?) web away and show us what Galileo Galilei, Italian and Renaissance man and student of optics and telescope maker (and seller), was really like.
In fact, Hofstadter does this, but what is more impressive is what he is able to do with (for?) the villain of this tale, Pope Urban VIII, the former friend and patron of Galileo who ultimately is responsible for the trial for heresy which made Galileo a hero of science. There is not any plausible rendering of the tale which will rescue Urban from the villain's role, but Hofstadter allows us to see at least what Urban thought he was doing, and thought he was protecting. It was not simply (according to Hofstadter) the primacy of the Bible, or the papacy, but a vision he had of a European civilization brought out of the Dark Ages into the light of Renaissance art, Catholic morality, and papal-enforced peace. To us, it looks like an Orwellian vision of conformity, but in Urban's mind it was a world with more grace and beauty than the centuries before had given, and not primarily meant to glorify himself, but God and man.
Unfortunately for Urban, and especially for Galileo, it was a doomed vision. Hofstadter does a good job of explaining how the same advances in understanding of optics which had enabled Renaissance artwork, were also central to the advancing craft and science of making telescopes. Galileo (and others, it should be noted) made increasingly effective telescopes, and they made it impossible for all Europeans to maintain a number of pious mythical beliefs:
1) that the Moon, associated with Mother Mary, was not perfect. This is hard for modern minds to imagine as a plausible theory in any level of technology, but before the telescope many learned men said that the apparent blemishes on it were but reflections of Earth (and its many seas and forests), and the Moon itself was mirror-perfect. Galileo's telescope made it clear that the moon (small m) had mountains, valleys, craters, and all the imperfections of age
2) that the stars do not all move across the celestial sphere in unison; in other words, there is stellar parallax. This shows that the stars (even exempting the planets) are not all in a single sphere.
3) that there were moons orbiting Jupiter. In theory there is nothing about moons orbiting Jupiter that is incompatible with Jupiter orbiting the Earth, but once you have admitted into your imagination that things can orbit something other than the Earth, it's not far before the evidence will point to the sun rather than the earth as the most likely thing for the planets to orbit around.
Galileo's trial was a strange affair, to modern eyes, and most closely resembles what we would call a kangaroo court. The truth or falsity of Galileo's ideas or the evidence he had seen through the telescope was not only not examined, it was not considered relevant. The only issue at question was, not even whether or not he had endorsed Copernicanism, but whether or not he did so knowing that it was forbidden by the Church. In other words, the trial resolved around this issue: was Galileo trying to think for himself, contrary to the edicts of the Church on this particular issue?
This is a tough thing for a modern author to portray in any shades other than black and white. Hofstadter, while clearly in sympathy with Galileo rather than Urban, does his best to show Urban and the court around him as something other than leering villains. In fact, they were something far more tragic (and far more likely to be cruel and destructive): they were humans confronting a universe that does not work the way their mental model of it says it should. Eventually, the Earth-centered view of the universe would fall before the onslaught of telescopic (and other) evidence, but in Galileo's time it was (just) possible to cling to it. Even Pope Urban VIII, however, knew at some level that the geocentric theory's position was tenuous, and the Reformation in northern Europe (where individuals such as Johannes Kepler were using telescopes to convince local nobility of the Copernican model) added to the papal insecurity. This was the time of the counter-Reformation, and Rome was in no mood to tolerate dissent, even compared to previous centuries.
In the end, though, it was the papacy that was broken by Galileo's trial, not the heliocentric model. The Copernican Revolution, in fact, came to be seen not just as the idea that the earch revolves around the sun, but more generally as the idea that It's Not All About Us. Darwin's idea that we humans were created by the same process that created all other life, Hubble's idea that our Sun's own galaxy was not the only galaxy (and not a particularly important or impressive one), all fall in a chain of scientific discoveries that have gradually caused us to see the universe as being vaster, and less concerned with humans, than the model which the Vatican at the time was attached to. In essence, it was Galileo's trial more than anything else that gave learned Europeans the impression that the Catholic Church was opposed to science, when throughout the Middle Ages it was the Church that had seemed to preserve learning while kings and armies disregarded it. Galileo was forced to recant, and lived out the rest of his life under house arrest. But the Catholic Church lost the hearts and minds of Europe's greatest thinkers from that day until today; it was not until Pope John Paul II's papacy that the Catholic Church officially expressed regret. Galileo, who spoke the truth as he saw and was condemned by the Powers That Be, became part of the lore of science history.
But, before he was a myth or a hero, he was this guy, who noticed these things when he looked in his telescope. That Galileo is one that we don't hear (read) as much about. Hofstadter brings him back for us to look at. Check it out.
July 30, 2009
The subject matter of The Earth Moves is no doubt more interesting than the book, which tends to be a bit disjointed and pedantic. Nonetheless, it offers an interesting look at one of history's most infamous trials. The great strength of Hofstadter's book is that he is able to portray the trial in seventeenth century terms, rather than looking at it through the prism of twenty first century cultural beliefs and attitudes.
It is perhaps difficult for persons living in a free country in the twenty first century to understand what Galileo's trial was all about. We commonly think that it was about whether it was the earth or the sun that moved. In actuality, it was more about the authority of the Church and its demand for obedience. At the time of Galileo's trial, a layperson was not permitted to interpret scripture. Hence, Galileo committed an offense by opining that scripture was not inconsistent with the Copernician cosmology. Whether he was right or wrong about that was not the point. The point was that he overstepped his authority and was insufficiently respectful of the Church's right to demand his obedience.
In sum, The Earth Moves is an interesting look at Galileo's trial, even if it at times moves slowly.
It is perhaps difficult for persons living in a free country in the twenty first century to understand what Galileo's trial was all about. We commonly think that it was about whether it was the earth or the sun that moved. In actuality, it was more about the authority of the Church and its demand for obedience. At the time of Galileo's trial, a layperson was not permitted to interpret scripture. Hence, Galileo committed an offense by opining that scripture was not inconsistent with the Copernician cosmology. Whether he was right or wrong about that was not the point. The point was that he overstepped his authority and was insufficiently respectful of the Church's right to demand his obedience.
In sum, The Earth Moves is an interesting look at Galileo's trial, even if it at times moves slowly.
December 24, 2022
This books clears up some modern misconceptions about Galileo's trial. (I won't spoil it by recapping the author's perspective.)
It gives a good feel for Galileo's state of mind as well as that of his adversaries.
I am reminded that Truth requires not only scientific accuracy, but historical and cultural accuracy as well.
Those who want, however, to learn why Galileo is invoked in Bohemian Rhapsody will probably have to wait for the sequel to this book, which may never happen.
It gives a good feel for Galileo's state of mind as well as that of his adversaries.
I am reminded that Truth requires not only scientific accuracy, but historical and cultural accuracy as well.
Those who want, however, to learn why Galileo is invoked in Bohemian Rhapsody will probably have to wait for the sequel to this book, which may never happen.
December 17, 2024
I was prepared to give this book 3 stars until the final, unnecessary, and irrelevant final chapter. I'm not sure what the author's intent was. It may have fit in an introduction.
Then there was the inconsistent practice of referring to Pope Urban VIII by his birth name - Maffeo Barberini. Perhaps the author was trying to demonstrate that the pope's intentions were personal not ecclesiastic, when prosecuting Galileo. However, by swapping the two names again and again, it was just annoying.
On the plus side, as an amateur star gazer, the book has prompted me to seek out better books about Galileo.
Then there was the inconsistent practice of referring to Pope Urban VIII by his birth name - Maffeo Barberini. Perhaps the author was trying to demonstrate that the pope's intentions were personal not ecclesiastic, when prosecuting Galileo. However, by swapping the two names again and again, it was just annoying.
On the plus side, as an amateur star gazer, the book has prompted me to seek out better books about Galileo.
May 16, 2023
So the topic and information in this book are pretty interesting, however, the writing is quite terrible. It side-tracks often, and makes long winded explanations which are not helpful to the book. Really, I would not recommend this to anyone but the most interested and willing to undertake a tough slog. Otherwise, it is fine. Interesting contextualization about the church and the trial. Really something most popularists miss in explaining Galileo.
June 6, 2020
This is a 200 page book. You may at first feel that it will be a concise explanation of the subject, and yet I found myself drifting off halfway through. I don’t know if it is all the side trips into arcane detail the author takes or his somewhat turbid exposition, but I ended up mostly skimming through the rest.
April 14, 2025
Excellent work bringing to bear a new, evidence based perspective on the rationale for the trials of Galileo. In several places the author has paraphrased Galileo when direct quotes would have been better in a work that clearly aspires to academic rigour (hence 4 stars rather than 5).
March 16, 2010
Quite a good presentation. The author is shy of the physics which sadly reduces the dimensionality of the presentation but that can be compensated by reading physics books. Nonetheless, an excellent declamation of the evil that is (was?) the Roman Catholic Church in suppressing knowledge and appreciation of reality. Overall well written and quite readable.
September 24, 2014
This is a book that doesn't seem to know whether it wants to wander historically or philosophically through Galileo's life & trial. As a result of this identity crisis, reading this small book feels like a struggle through a dense text three times its size. It's certainly not what I was expecting...
December 25, 2015
A clear and concise explanation of Galileo's trial and the events leading up to it.
Details how the story of "science vs god" is more myth than history and it was mostly politics behind the famous conflict.
Details how the story of "science vs god" is more myth than history and it was mostly politics behind the famous conflict.
September 27, 2011
interesting book, but... why didn't he give any conclusion about the trial and Galileo's life following the trial?
October 14, 2013
The story of Galileo trial with the church. Unfortunately written by a professor apparently for his classroom. Yes, Galileo was found guilty of believing in the truth.
August 19, 2014
This book had the potential for a really great narrative, but instead I found it disorganized and rambling. Pretty disappointed.
Read
January 27, 2016Buena narrativa. De tantos libros dedicados al proceso galileano, este en particular lo teje con líneas de historia del arte. buen libro.
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