Funny, frustrating, exhausting, amazing, and extremely intriguing. I felt all of these when reading physicist Richard Feynman's collection of stories. He casually flips through his life like he's surfing channels in his mind. One second his is talking about presenting his work in front of Albert Einstein and the next he is going on about ants in his apartment. No story seems to take more weight, no player is more important. Picking locks and the Nobel Prize are the same as he bounces along.
This classic bit of science literature came out before I was even a part of this world, but the stories still came to life when I read them. There was no lack of amusement throughout the chapters. Feynman would have made a pretty shaky choice for a boyfriend, but he loved women as much as his work, and they receive equal attention here. From strippers, to bar girls, to nude models, and even his wives, his life full of love comes through, at times in hilarious ways. He liked to jump right in, and seemed willing to try anything once. Not just a physicist, he was a painter, a drummer, a safe cracker, and a Casanova.
However amusing, this book was equally frustrating to read. The chapters are edited versions of taped conversations Feynman had with friend Ralph Leighton. At times this conversational writing gets difficult to slog though. Sometimes the stories have a climax, sometimes they just meander along into nothing. A few chapters in, I found myself wondering if I was going to make it through. As fascinating as the stories were, when they were hard to follow, it was hard for me to stay focused. This left me exhausted and more aware of annoyances. If there is anyone who has a right to brag about his life, it's Richard Feynman. Even so, he saw himself as a gift to everything he touched. Biology, courting, teaching; each of these he makes out to seem as if he waltzed in and made everything better with his brilliance. His immodesty comes off as abrasive at times in a culture where that attitude isn't encouraged. Perhaps he isn't wrong about the changes he envisions, but it's a viewpoint that's difficult to swallow when you don't have a personal context with the author.
Amazing are the accomplishments of one man. They are too many to list here, but just reading about how he saw the Nobel Prize as a burden more than a boon shows how much he worked for the love of it. He wanted to open every box and see how it worked. He faced the experts in his field with grace and trained new scientists with integrity.
He ends with lessons we could all take to heart. "The first principle is that you must not fool yourself--and you are the easiest person to fool. So you have to be very careful about that. After you've not fooled yourself, it's easy not to fool other scientists. You just have to be honest in a conventional way after that." As scientists, with limited funding and a lot at stake, we want to believe every bit of our work, but it takes a lot more courage to see when you are wrong. Not much is worse than when ideology trumps evidence.
Although I would never aspire to write with a Feynman's voice, the experience is akin to sitting down with him over some tea for a chat. There's something really profound to a style so intimate. It's the way I hope to be able to share my life with my grandkids. He simply shares his experiences, the lesson in each he leaves to someone else to figure out.
Showing posts with label Book Review. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Book Review. Show all posts
Monday, May 28, 2012
Monday, February 27, 2012
Science Book Review: The Poisoner's Handbook: Murder and the Birth of Forensic Medicine in Jazz Age New York
Whether you seek murder mysteries, failed romances, meticulous histories, or elaborate chemistry, Deborah Blum's The Poisoner's Handbook has something for you. Loosely following the works of medical examiner Charles Norris and chemist Alexander Gettler as they raced to stay ahead of poisoner's and poisons used in the early 1900's, this book jumps from one dangerous compound to another,fluidly weaving the stories of those involved.
At a time when alcohol was not only king but criminal as well, mercury, methanol, radium and even the drink (ethanol) itself killed thousands in New York City. Poisons were easy to come by but hard to prove in a court of law. Forensic medicine was new and difficult to explain to a jury. Why was this proof any more true than what the defense was saying against scientific evidence? As chemists became ever more driven to stop chemical criminals, prohibition itself seemed criminal enough for all the lives it took.
My favorite section was Radium. Marie Curie, one of the most respected woman scientists in history couldn't have known the harm her discoveries would bring. She was never without a sample in her pocket to show off to fellow scientists, a lovely, fascinating compound. So useful it was turned into "self-luminous" paint for the dials on watches. Women who painted the dials were equally fascinated and unafraid of radium. Not only did the women sharpen the paintbrushes with their mouths, Blum explains, "They sprinkled the luminous liquid in their hair to make their curls twinkle in the dark. They brightened their fingernails with it. One girl covered her teeth to give herself a Cheshire cat smile when she went home at night." Little did they know the substance would crumble their bones and cause leukemia.
I loved every moment of reading this book. Although it isn't a complete history of Prohibition, forensics, or any one character, it gives enough to get the reader involved in the story and excited about the science. My one wish for this book would be a set of full color images in the middle to go along with some of the tales. In fact, I was intrigued enough to look up one gruesome image described in the book taken by a sneaky photographer in an execution room. Those snapshots would have been a wonderful addition to the stories.
This book speaks to many audiences and is open enough for even the most novice science readers. Think of this book as a literary episode of 1920's CSI. The Poisoner's Handbook reads like fiction and is even greater because of its truth. I highly recommend it for anyone seeking a well spun tale.
At a time when alcohol was not only king but criminal as well, mercury, methanol, radium and even the drink (ethanol) itself killed thousands in New York City. Poisons were easy to come by but hard to prove in a court of law. Forensic medicine was new and difficult to explain to a jury. Why was this proof any more true than what the defense was saying against scientific evidence? As chemists became ever more driven to stop chemical criminals, prohibition itself seemed criminal enough for all the lives it took.
My favorite section was Radium. Marie Curie, one of the most respected woman scientists in history couldn't have known the harm her discoveries would bring. She was never without a sample in her pocket to show off to fellow scientists, a lovely, fascinating compound. So useful it was turned into "self-luminous" paint for the dials on watches. Women who painted the dials were equally fascinated and unafraid of radium. Not only did the women sharpen the paintbrushes with their mouths, Blum explains, "They sprinkled the luminous liquid in their hair to make their curls twinkle in the dark. They brightened their fingernails with it. One girl covered her teeth to give herself a Cheshire cat smile when she went home at night." Little did they know the substance would crumble their bones and cause leukemia.
I loved every moment of reading this book. Although it isn't a complete history of Prohibition, forensics, or any one character, it gives enough to get the reader involved in the story and excited about the science. My one wish for this book would be a set of full color images in the middle to go along with some of the tales. In fact, I was intrigued enough to look up one gruesome image described in the book taken by a sneaky photographer in an execution room. Those snapshots would have been a wonderful addition to the stories.
This book speaks to many audiences and is open enough for even the most novice science readers. Think of this book as a literary episode of 1920's CSI. The Poisoner's Handbook reads like fiction and is even greater because of its truth. I highly recommend it for anyone seeking a well spun tale.
Labels:
Andrew Gettler,
Book Review,
Charles Norris,
Deb Blum,
Deborah Blum,
Jazz Age,
New York City,
poison,
Poisoner's Handbook,
Prohibition
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)

