Tuesday, 8 September 2009

Hey, what's the Big Idea?

Paul Strathern, Oppenheimer & The Bomb (1998)
Science biography – 90 pages - 2 nods -

Paul Strathern, Einstein & Relativity (1997)
Science biography – 90 pages - 2 nods -

Paul Strathern, Hawking & Black Holes (1997)
Science biography – 90 pages - 2 nods
(all taken out from Plymouth Uni library, courtesy of Jay)

The Big Idea series is Paul Strathern’s attempt at detailing the lives of the past’s most eminent scientists, all within an accessible number of pages (always under one hundred). The Worm has entered this series with gusto, looking at the lives of Robert Oppenheimer, Albert Einstein and Stephen Hawking. Let the scientific pondering begin.
First to Oppenheimer. The detonation of the world’s very first atomic bomb provoked these words from its chief creator: ‘I am become Death, The Destroyer of worlds’. The words are a translation from the Sanskrit text Bhagavad-Gita; the tongue belonged to the scientist in question.

Hailed as “the father of the bomb”, Oppenheimer was involved in the atomic tests in the New Arizona desert in the early 1940s amidst the greater world conflict that engulfed the United States at the time. Called ‘Oppie’ by his friends, the reader is taken on a brief tour of his life: young academic, schizophrenic and suicidal, to the man who moulded great minds. He details some of his political ideology: his move to the left (loves of his life, as well as his brother, were communist) and his eventual falling out with the authorities. An out-right genius himself (learning languages as people eat hot dinners), his task during the Second World War was to gather a collection of other geniuses to get ahead in the arms race against the Germans. Of course, the rest is history: the Nazis surrendered and two atomic bombs were dropped on Japan.

And onto our second genius, one of Oppie’s contemporaries and perhaps the biggest brain of them all: Albert Einstein. The reader is treated to the usual stand-out points of Einstein’s life, the most notable feature being the relative late blossoming (being in his mid-twenties when first expounding some of the greatest theories of the twentieth century). Likened to Newton, Strathern rightly notes:

‘But Newton didn’t have to go to work every day, and didn’t live in a small apartment with a wife and baby. Einstein’s intellectual feat appears to be unparalleled in the history of the human mind.’ (p.47).

Einstein was not seen as a genius straight away by the seniors, but recognised by the more dynamic younger generation. When passed over for the post of professor at the University of Zurich, Adler – who was appointed – resigned, commenting: ‘If it is possible to obtain a man like Einstein for the university, it is absurd to appoint me.’ (p.64). Indeed, how was it possible to neglect a man on whom at moments in his life had access to ‘God’s thoughts’ (p.50)?

The life of Stephen Hawking completes this trilogy of twentieth century geniuses: perhaps a life more compelling than the previous two. Here was a young man of upcoming talent, alive in the swinging 60s, who was diagnosed with the condition of amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (AML) – better known as motor neurone disease. It caused him to walk around with the use of stick in his early twenties; led him to needing a wheelchair, for his speech to become slurred, and to fail in the use of his hands. Whilst in the mid-1980s, a complication in breathing led to the vital decision taken by his wife for an emergency operation, the result of which lost the use of his voice, leading to the now famous computer-machine talker, wildly imitated around the world.

Yet this brain survived such adversity to triumph (and of the three mentioned, Hawking has the extra kudos of appearing in an episode of The Simpsons). Tight spots and tricky situations is a familiar theme with all three scientific amigos: Oppenheimer was hounded towards the end of his life for supposed Communist sympathies (the 1950s being the era of the McCarthyism witch-trials), whilst Einstein was unable to complete his Unified Field Theory – equating the micro and macro worlds (on the bedside at his death in 1955 lay a page of unfinished calculations). Such was the energy exerted on this never reached or broached theory, many commentators believe Einstein – one of the greatest of human minds – wasted much of his later life on a fruitless task.

Throughout each of the reads, multi-tasking author Paul Strathern (lecturer of philosophy and mathematics as well as writer of novels) has taken it upon himself to digest and expound lives of these men and their (sometimes) baffling theories into a book of fewer than 100 pages. This itself is quite an impressive feat; however, much of the pages are a pedestrian read. At no point did the text jump out and grab the Worm by the lapels; the only exception being the anecdotes, many of which have been recited time and again.

Strathern feels less comfortable when relating the theory of the bomb, when speaking of the theory of relativity, and even of black holes and string theory. Yet the books ultimate stunted nature lies deeper than this: it is the lack of connection between author and subject. This is something seen with greater clarity when reading the pages of Hawking’s life; a more enjoyable read, due primarily – I believe – to Strathern’s actual meeting Hawking (something obviously impossible to have achieved with either Oppenheimer or Einstein). Take this ending passage on Hawking, for example, detailing a group of students discussing equations:

‘The central figure of this group sits in a wheelchair wearing a bib. His cup is held by a nurse, who rests one hand on his forehead, lowering his head so that he can drink. His spectacles slip forward down his nose, and his slack lips slurp at the tea, as the young voices debate earnestly around him….. One of the group passes a typical bad-taste student comment, and the figure in the wheelchair beams his famous broad grin. He is in his element: the centre of his own mathematical universe, already the stuff of legend’ (p.84-85).

Bill Bryson’s A Short History of Nearly Everything has led to a rash of comedic-science-history books. Strathern’s attempts pre-date this spate, yet fails in enlightening and entertaining the reader to heights of delirium (as achieved by Bryson). Such great figures deserve words of greater quality. But as a self-professed introduction, Strathern’s Big Idea series suffices and earns their place on any curious reader’s bookshelf.