Skip to main content

Erasmus Darwin - Patricia Fara *****

Patricia Fara has written a number of accessible history of science titles in the past, for example Science: a four thousand year history and Sex, Botany and Empire - but they have been conventional, if readable, academic titles. In her book on Erasmus Darwin (finally making it into paperback after eight years), she subverts the genre, along the way making it the most enjoyable relatively heavy-duty history of science book I've ever read.

Fara claims in her introduction that her approach was inspired by reading Lolita on a train: one of Humbert Humbert's thoughts inspired her to ponder the nature of history and how the process of uncovering what happened in the past differs from the straight line narrative we usually read. As a result, Fara draws us into the unstructured process of discovery, where new, sometimes serendipitous, findings can send the writer off on a whole new tack.  (I say 'claims in her introduction' not in a negative way, but because Fara does warn 'in this book about Darwin, my [fictionalized] personal narratives are not necessarily completely true.')

The subject of the book is Erasmus Darwin, grandfather of the somewhat better-known Charles, best remembered for his long poems on biology and nature - distinctly impenetrable to modern eyes - and as a member of the famous Lunar Society that brought together Midlands natural philosophy enthusiasts at the end of the eighteenth century. Although the book does have some biographical content, the focus is Darwin's writings and particularly on a mocking spoof of his work called The Loves of Triangles, which shifts the focus of Darwin's The Loves of Plants onto mathematical shapes in what is primarily an attack on his politics and to a degree religious beliefs. Along the way, we discover that Darwin was more than a medic who dabbled in biology and slightly prefigured evolutionary theory: there is a strong political thread in his work, including a focus on the abolition of slavery, along with enthusiasm for industry and for sexual themes (with the inevitable modesty of the day).

I confess that as a science writer myself, I am probably an ideal audience for this book. I identify totally with the way that discoveries made during the research and writing can shift the direction of a book as it is written, and require the author to suddenly plunge into a new topic in a way that's delightful for her or him to experience. And there's something refreshingly honest about Fara's admission of struggling with Darwin's stodgy, drawn-out poetical style - something anyone addressing many Victorian novels we are supposed to find wonderful may also have experienced.

If I have a criticism, it's that there isn't enough of this meta-text in the book. Fara sets out to produce a very different form of history of science title - and succeeds - but perhaps too high a percentage of the content has a conventional form and ends up exposing us to repeated exposition of Darwin's principle themes and stodgy versification. However, this doesn't undermine the fact that this is a wonderful way to make the process of exploring the history of science come alive. 

This study of Darwin through his didactic poetry uses the approach on a small and relatively insignificant corner of scientific history - I would love to see the same approach, made even more bold and personal, applied to some of the big picture aspects of the subject. For now, though, this was an impressive step forward in a field not always famous for its innovation.

Paperback:     
Kindle 
Using these links earns us commission at no cost to you
Review by Brian Clegg

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Antigravity Enigma - Andrew May ****

Antigravity - the ability to overcome the pull of gravity - has been a fantasy for thousands of years and subject to more scientific (if impractical) fictional representation since H. G. Wells came up with cavorite in The First Men in the Moon . But is it plausible scientifically?  Andrew May does a good job of pulling together three ways of looking at our love affair with antigravity (and the related concept of cancelling inertia) - in science fiction, in physics and in pseudoscience and crankery. As May points out, science fiction is an important starting point as the concept was deployed there well before we had a good enough understanding of gravity to make any sensible scientific stabs at the idea (even though, for instance, Michael Faraday did unsuccessfully experiment with a possible interaction between gravity and electromagnetism). We then get onto the science itself, noting the potential impact on any ideas of antigravity that come from the move from a Newtonian view of a...

The World as We Know It - Peter Dear ***

History professor Peter Dear gives us a detailed and reasoned coverage of the development of science as a concept from its origins as natural philosophy, covering the years from the eighteenth to the twentieth century. inclusive If that sounds a little dry, frankly, it is. But if you don't mind a very academic approach, it is certainly interesting. Obviously a major theme running through is the move from largely gentleman natural philosophers (with both implications of that word 'gentleman') to professional academic scientists. What started with clubs for relatively well off men with an interest, when universities did not stray far beyond what was included in mathematics (astronomy, for instance), would become a very different beast. The main scientific subjects that Dear covers are physics and biology - we get, for instance, a lot on the gradual move away from a purely mechanical views of physics - the reason Newton's 'action at a distance' gravity caused such ...

It's On You - Nick Chater and George Loewenstein *****

Going on the cover you might think this was a political polemic - and admittedly there's an element of that - but the reason it's so good is quite different. It shows how behavioural economics and social psychology have led us astray by putting the focus way too much on individuals. A particular target is the concept of nudges which (as described in Brainjacking ) have been hugely over-rated. But overall the key problem ties to another psychological concept: framing. Huge kudos to both Nick Chater and George Loewenstein - a behavioural scientist and an economics and psychology professor - for having the guts to take on the flaws in their own earlier work and that of colleagues, because they make clear just how limited and potentially dangerous is the belief that individuals changing their behaviour can solve large-scale problems. The main thesis of the book is that there are two ways to approach the major problems we face - an 'i-frame' where we focus on the individual ...