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The Autobiography: Patrick Moore ****

A whole generation of astronomy enthusiasts in the UK (me included) were engaged in the subject by Patrick Moore's TV show The Sky at Night. In this 2005 autobiography, Moore concentrates on his career from writing his first book in 1953, skipping over his youth and experiences as a pilot in the Second World War in a handful of pages. It is often fascinating stuff.

A starting point that is remarkable is that Moore had no scientific qualifications. (This comes across particularly in his dislike of the metric system.) He missed university due to the war and decided not to take up a place after. Astronomy is arguably the science where more contributions have been made by amateurs than any other, but few amateurs have enjoyed the respect of professionals felt for Moore. His speciality was the Moon in observing terms, but inevitably his most important contribution was in popularising astronomy.

A lot of the book is dedicated to the various topics covered by his TV show, but I hadn't remembered just how much he was also the BBC's go to for NASA missions, particularly the Apollo programme and exploratory probes like Voyager. His account of his work runs from the serious to an entertaining account of everything that went wrong when astronomy's international body the IAU put on its conference in Argentina.

There is no doubt that some of Moore's views on life in general are old fashioned to the point of being offensive - but they are not untypical of someone who grew up in the 1930s. There was also inevitably speculation about his being a lifetime bachelor: personally I accept his statement that he lost the love of his life, Laura, in the war and there could never be anyone else. However, there's no doubt he was a 'man's man' - probably helped by the male domination of astronomy and space exploration in his era. It's notable that in a chapter describing famous people he met they are almost all male.

What the reader encounters are the thoughts of a true eccentric - the sort of person that the BBC would now run a mile rather than employ (not just because, as Moore would no doubt point out if he were around now, because he was white, straight, old and male). As we have seen, some of Moore's views would now be unacceptable (he was aware of this in 2003, quite often remarking on his political incorrectness). But then, he was also passionate about ending fox hunting. This isn't a beautifully crafted, arty autobiography, but rather a rambling memoir of an unusual life. One of the things that definitely comes across is Moore's kindness - something I experienced in a small personal way.

When I wrote my first book, Light Years, I wrote to Moore asking for a comment to go on the cover. He gave me one - but perhaps more impressively before doing so he sent me three other letters, apologising for taking so long to respond. These were all typed on the 1908 typewriter he used to write all his books. (He notes in the autobiography that he couldn't buy compatible ink ribbons for it, so had to wind a newer ribbon by hand onto an old reel.) When you consider how much correspondence he would have got, this was truly remarkable.

Here's just one of those letters:

To some, Moore was a figure of fun - an overweight man wearing a monocle, oddly dressed and with a habit of playing the xylophone on TV with huge enthusiasm. But for many astronomers of a certain age he will remain a central figure in their personal development, and this book gives some insight into the man himself. 

Sadly the paper version is out of print, though can be obtained second-hand, and the ebook remains available.

Paperback:   
Kindle 
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