More thoughts on a book.

My most recent read took me much longer to get through than I would have liked, but it was well worth it. The Age of Wonder by Richard Holmes is a history of science through the Romantic Era (1780s-1830s) told through English science. Possibly the best nonfiction I've read in some time, Holmes himself appears to be more of an historian of romanticist literature and history, and in the undying words of my brother-in-law, an "englishist." What sets this apart from many of the other scientific histories I've read is Holmes' sense of literature and poetry itself. The story-telling like style (focusing primarily on three figures in English science, Joseph Banks, William Herschel, and Humphrey Davy) does a wonderful job of telling the interconnectedness of science, philosophy, literature, politics, and society readily apparent in 18th century society as it is today. Indeed, it was not uncommon for the likes of the young Michael Faraday or Caroline Herschel to have had dinner parties and correspondence with the literary and philosophical luminaries such as Coleridge, Keats, Wordsworth, the Shelleys, Lord Byron, and Kant.

Personally, I have always had an affection for romanticist works, in its epic grasp of all love, hope, power, beauty, misery and trembling universality. What really pulled this book together was the recognition that science and poetry themselves are in fact two sides of the same coin: in searching for the innate beauty of the world. The story of tropic, polar, aerial, electric, and chemical exploration in as the eighteenth century passed into the nineteenth has a true sense of its place in history as well. Politically, the romanticists saw the mental decline of George III, the loss of the American colonies, Napoleon's rise, fall and rise again, the establishment of the Regency, and eventually the passage into the Victorian era with her coronation in 1837. Moreover, as so many places in history show, a time of philosophical transition (called "paradigm shifts" by Thomas Kuhn) is truly fascinating... in the early Industrial Era, Britain and Europe as a whole was beginning to shake off the last of the medieval hangers-on. Much of science in the early modern era (16th-early 18th c.) was closely tied to philosophy and religion of the time. Many men of science were deeply pious (such as Newton, Kepler, Galileo), and spoke freely of God in their writings; however, their view of the cosmos, as soon through the lens of the natural world led to the rise of Deist philosophies in the 1700s. By the end of the 1800s, "natural philosophy" which often speculated on the nature of Creation and of Man as well as its subject manner evolved into the science we know today, objectively of its own philosophies.

Many interpreters of Romantic poetry cite Coleridge and Keats as decrying science as robbing nature of is mystery and beauty. Holmes, however, attacks this interpretation, showing how in literature itself of the era, scientists are to be highly praised and loved as those who can truly see the magnificent, beautiful, unity of the Universe. Seen through the awe-inspiring knowledge when Herschel announced an infinite Universe with worlds beyond our imagination. It was seen in Davy's initial exploration into gases and human consciousness itself. This was seen when French ballooneers first saw the world from on top.... when looking down, human borders and faults melted away into the beauty of a landscape from miles up.

I've been making mental notes for myself to get poetry books off of the shelf now that I've read this. It is always an amazing reminder to see the world itself as a living poem

It's been a couple week.s The latter half of August was dubbed "vacation." Upon both of our returns to the outside life, I really, really miss Meg. I suppose that it would be nice to be able to commute with her into the city.

So as for thoughts. For a period, I considered posting on here my progress through Dan Brown's bestseller, Angels & Demons, which I snatched-up for a McDonald's nutritional beach reading. The beach never happened and neither did the book. I mean, I would like to finish it up, and it's not that it's a difficult book to slog through, but it's just.... bad. I guess that I should hold out a full review until I've completed the novel, but at this point, it feels more like an assignment than a read.

I also got out the old telescope for some summer viewing. You've likely seen a very bright star in the western sky not long after sunset (last night, it was close to the Moon), this is Jupiter, and it's particularly bright because right now, it's at opposition, meaning that we are seeing the entire planet illuminated (think of a full Moon brighter than a half Moon) while it's opposite us form the Sun (hence its rise as the Sun sets). Anyway, in the two-inch Newtonian, I managed to get a good (although brief, the mirror soon fell out) view of Jupiter and the Galilean moons. Moreover, as this is the 400th anniversary of these satellites' first viewing, I felt this oddly appropriate. There was a fascinating shared connection to astronomers past in doing this. My telescope is a fairly simple one (probably not unlike many in the 17th and 18th centuries), with a relatively low resolving power, so my view of the Jovian system was simple: one large dot with four smaller dots surrounding it in a perfect line. Later that evening, it occurred to me that my generation has, in fact, been spoiled by our view of thew planets. For centuries before, viewing Jupiter and its moons was a simple series of bright dots. While further structure would be determined through better observations, the paradigm shift came with the Voyager 1 and spacecrafts. The close-up views of the outer planets has defined our imaginations of these for the last thirty years. This did no less than a beautiful job in inspiring at least two generations of professional, amateur, and casual astronomers and brought the beauty and magnificence of our corner of the heavens to our front steps.

Re-discovering these as Galileo did was awe-inspiring.

Movies

Okay, so I want to see District 9 . Knowing Peter Jackson's previous work, I'm very excited for this science fiction allegory, which (as put in the words of the Times review) "In place of the usual mystery — what are they going to do to us? — this movie poses a different kind of hypothetical puzzle. What would we do to them?"

Maybe I'm just a fanboy for viral marketing, but this looks good.

So I just finished an interesting biography about John Dee. For those who (understandably) have not heard of Dr. Dee, he was a 16th century philosopher/scientist/sorcerer/astrologer under Elizabeth I. Lately, I've taken a fascination with early modern era science, that is, the beginning of what we consider science. Prior to this, the ideas of "natural philosophy" (as it was called until the 18th century) was largely indistinguishable from magic. Astronomy grew from astrology; chemistry grew from alchemy; this transition I find personally fascinating, and much of the builders of early science had one foot in the rigorous method of experimentation which we recognize today and the other in ancient mysticism which has its roots deep into Antiquity.

The Queen's Conjurer by Benjamin Woolley (2001) is Dee's story, trying to show his roots as both an early scientist and the fount of much modern-day mysticism in the West. It seems to me that John Dee's biggest issue is that he longed to have a full, comprehensive knowledge of Creation, both physical and spiritual (remember, no distinction in the 1500s of natural and supernatural), but never seemed to completely get out of the old ways. This is exemplary of English society of the time, split in a transition from Medieval to Modern, Catholic to Protestant, and even from Old Style calendars to New Style (unlike the Continent, England stuck to the Julian mode). The Jacobean Era beginning in 1604 arouse a different world which would be that of flourishing Galileo, Kepler, and Newton, who while they all had mage-like qualities, were explorers of the new age.

Much like Dee, who seems to see disappointment after disappointment, Woolley doesn't seem to quite get there. I went into this really looking forward to an engaging, mysterious figure who straddled the Old and the New of science and sorcery, but this book is so much more mired in Renaissance politics and the personal failings of Dr. Dee that I felt about halfway through, I was reading more to get the book done. Perhaps it's my interests when reading this sort of history, but the author tends to avoid the science which could have been marvelously interesting.

Dee's life itself is a bit of a disappointment. A true Renaissance man who seemed to be a wonderful polymath, truly devoted to the intoxication of pure knowledge seems like he should have had a much more interesting life. It starts off well, as a young man negotiating his survival in Mary Tutor's court, and early success with Queen Elizabeth. He travels, corresponds with Brahe and others, and begins his journey (I particularly love the story of his ill-fated great library). By middle age, he seems to abandon science for speaking to God's emissaries directly via crystalomancy. For reasons not quite described, he cannot do this himself, so he falls in with a scryer, Edward Kelley, who in my view, appears to be a world class scheister. Kelley sadly seems to control the otherwise brilliant Dr. Dee in the latter half of his life, largely controlling Dee's movements and career decisions, the majority of which appear to be disastrous.

While I certainly understand that writing a biography of a man born nearly 500 years ago, that sources are scantly few and far between, making this sort of work frustratingly difficult (not that I wouldn't be opposed to trying this myself someday), Woolley appears to rely a great deal on his own interpretations and reading between the lines. Don't let this make you think that the work is poorly researched-- indeed, I have a great respect for the book, has an exhaustively wonderful 43 page notes/bibliography section. So much just feels disappointing in that like John Dee himself, The Queen's Conjurer is something that was destined for wonderful things but sadly fell short.

On the other hand, I am now very interested in finding another Dee bio just to have a look at what else it out there.

So as usual, I'm finding myself in the middle of reading several books (The Queen's Conjurer, a biography of John Dee; Finding Oz, another bio of L. Frank Baum; The Age of Wonder, about romantic-era science; Gravitation; and several other books which appear to be on hiatus). Anyway, I've nearly (or possibly, entirely) forgotten why I've begun to write this morning. The books are what's on my mind, as I've had a very productive summer (I think I can count ten books read since the end of the school year.

Does anyone have any suggestions? My to-read list has been growing well into the hundreds for nearly ten years now, but I like the progress I'm making.

Speaking of which, I finally got around to reading Chuck Palahniuk's Fight Club. That's still one of the best movies from the late 90's. But it's been on my must-read for a while now, which is likely why I devoured it in about a day; it's just as dark as the film (perhaps moreso), but a wonderful exploration of the detached nihilism of consumer culture. Sadly, having seen the movie years and years before reading the book, there's always that nagging feeling that it has skewed my perspective of the novel. I do have a slight feeling that when future readers want to see the 1990s from an historical perspective, they'll be likely to pick up Palahniuk's work. Not to say that the previous decade was quite as dark as the novel shows this (perhaps it's colored by seeing it through my teenage years), but the triumph of the yuppie and a desire to destroy that is vaguely reminiscent of the twenties.

Isn't it crazy that the "twenties" aren't that far away?

So I'm painting the porch these last few days. I have some pictures to post of my progress, but that will come in time. I've also signed into Twitter, simply to read other people's but it's just weird to have an account. In all honest, I would rather post here, as the beynd-140-characters allows me to fully express thoughts, like "I like doughnuts" (13 letters, woo!)... so spaces count as characters.

Anyway, I don't think that I'll be participating in any revolutions anytime soon, so I have little interest for now

I am such a geek. Earlier today, I needed tp pick up some supplies for school this year: a 2 inch notebook, some paper, and stickytack (I'm going to have to hang up a lot of posters). Finding myself in Staples, I do what I have done so many times in Augusts dating back to at least junior high-- I look forward to it. I love getting stuff ready for school.... preparing organization, pens, notebooks, and whatever unique items I need for the new school year. I want to go all-out on things I don't need to better organize my life.

This never happens, of course.

But it's probably the single thing I love most of all that draws me to joy in anticipating a new school year: potential. Before you start, or as you start, all things are possible, and so few and yet broken. Details, details....