The third novel in a series can be a bit of a let down, but Robert Jackson Bennett makes this the best so far. In his beautifully imagined world which has advanced biological technology while otherwise being near-medieval we once more encounter the unlikely pair of investigator Dinios Kol and his boss, Ana Dolabra whose ability to pull together information from multiple sources to come to deductions isn’t quite human - and whose personality is abrasive to say the least. They are called in to deal with what appears to be a relatively simple murder with a clear perpetrator, but that conclusion risks political instability as the daughter of one leading family is killed by the son of another - the two lines being close to Montagues and Capulets in their hatred for each other, even though their businesses are intertwined. What gradually becomes revealed is a far more complex plot involving a horrendous biological mechanism that, at the same time, gives Bennett a chance to tell us much more ...

Sixty years ago, books about astronomy for general readers were almost unheard of. There were books aimed at enthusiastic amateurs who wanted to explore the night sky with telescopes of their own, but genuine popular science books on the subject are a relatively recent invention. One reason for astronomy’s surge in popularity is a new class of ‘unsolved mysteries’ – always a sure-fire hit with readers – with intriguing names like black holes, dark matter and dark energy.  A second development is the arrival of gorgeously detailed photographs of astronomical objects – which most people will associate with NASA’s Hubble telescope, but can actually be traced back to a book that came out in 1979 called Catalogue of the Universe , which contained the very first true-colour astronomical photograph the general public ever saw. One of that book’s authors was Paul Murdin – co-discoverer of the first black hole, and now a prolific writer whose latest offering is reviewed here. It deals with ...

I've always loved the 'introducing X, a graphic guide' series from Icon Books, with titles such as Introducing Infinity: a graphic guide . They're quirky, pocket-sized books with typically one or two page segments each featuring an eye-catching illustration. However, the publisher also has a set of graphic guides that are full-sized books, the latest being The Universe . I was also very impressed with Jillian Scudder's illustrated Astroquizzical  - she knows her stuff and puts the science across well. The same is true here - it's hard to fault the basics of the text. But I found the book a pain to read because of the way it's laid out and illustrated. Frankly, the layout (and cover) make it look more like a self-published book than one that's professionally produced. The text and image layout is haphazard, with random switching of fonts. Headings are few and far between - there is no apparent structure to the book. In a lot of cases, the illustrations go...

This is described as the definitive biography of Charles Darwin - and I really can't argue. It's a condensation of the original two-volume edition, but still a chunky 500+ pages before getting to the notes - as such it is, frankly, longer my preferred length, but though just occasionally there was too much detail, it remains highly readable and gives a brilliant insight into Darwin's family life as much as his work. We get, of course, his academic background, the voyage of the Beagle and the slow move towards Origin of Species , suddenly spurred on by competition. Then there's the later books, with the particularly contentious Descent of Man amongst them. And it's all excellent stuff. But I think the part that really captured me is Jane Browne's insight into Darwin as a person - an invalid for most of his life, and somewhat beset with doubts, especially as his religious beliefs ebbed away; a generally mild man, but capable of acerbic responses to criticism. And...

If there's one big gap in the science writing sphere, it's popular engineering (you can quibble over whether engineering is science, but where else would you put popular engineering?). Alex Davies does the field a real service with this insightful introduction to the world of test engineering. The concept is simple. If we build something and sell it, we need to test it to make sure that it won't fail in a way that's dangerous to the consumer. The most obvious example is airliners, which feature at some length, but this applies to everything from cuddly toys to hair straighteners: someone needs to predict what could go wrong and to put the product through its paces to see if it will survive under any reasonable circumstances. When Davies is telling a story of test engineering in action, the book is a delight. He opens with the way that real bears are used to test if bears can get into coolers and trash cans - and the impressive ways these animals can  circumvent human in...

This is a re-read of a 1964 science fiction novel that in some ways holds up very well, though there are some issues. Sunburst is what you might call an anti-superhero novel. After an accident at the local nuclear power plant, Sorrel Park is now the only town in the US with a coal-fired power plant and is cut off from the rest of the country. Initially this isolation of the town was to stop others hearing more about the nuclear disaster, but when children born after radiation exposure begin to develop psi abilities, the place remains locked down as they prove to be disastrous - after a night of horrendous behaviour they are captured and put in the Dump, surrounded by a field that suppresses psi abilities, stopping them from getting out. As we get into the story the government is getting ready to open up Sorrel Park. The central character, 13-year-old Shandy, who has a had a difficult life after her parents died when she was young, gets pulled into the influence of the scientists who r...