The theme of this book is that scientists do sometimes believe things that seem opposed to reality or common sense. The author catalogs a series of such events in different chapters to illustrate that point. In other words, science has progressed over the years not only based on a steady aggregation of theories, hypotheses, and testing but also because of — or in spite of — the seeming craziness of some ideas and the conflict among different viewpoints that followed.

The common example of this is Newton’s seriousl interst in alchemy. Even there the author brings out the usual comment that alchemy, despite its fundamental flaws about matter, did familiarize some scientists with the need for testing which, as a byproduct, served to advance the cause of real chemistry.

Other chapters focus on different errors and misconceptions. Some of these led to total blind alleys. Others — e.g., research surrounding electricity and living organisms — did finally result in the emergence of testable and reproducible results.

Interestingly, the addenda and chapter notes provided by the author are as fascinating and as thought provoking as the content of the chapters themselves. Also entertaining are the author’s frequent comments on his own scientific beliefs as a child and how these changed over time.

While very entertaining, the fundamental message I take away from this book is quite profound and reflects some of my own beliefs. That is, there’s a lot about the universe that we don’t understand and sometimes it just doesn’t make sense to assume that the “rules” we now understand about matter and energy will be constant or unchanging. Some might say that this is because humans aren’t able to understand how the mind of God works. Others might say this is because the universe is just so big and complex that our species may not last long enough to figure everything out. Either way, we’ll keep trying to understand and, along the way, crazy ideas will emerge.

Review copyright (c) 2010 by Dennis D. McDonald

This is a grim but witty tale of Cold War skullduggery in pre-revolution Cuba. An expatriate British vacuum cleaner salesman whose teenage daughter has expensive tastes agrees to serve as a paid informer for the British secret service. He starts inventing agents and intelligence reports in order to pad his monthly expense reports.

All seems innocuous till people start getting killed. Someone, it seems, is taking his reports seriously.

The hot, fetid, alcohol-soaked and vice-ridden view Greene presents of a deteriorating Havana seems real and reminiscent of the colonial Saigon in another Greene novel, The Quiet American. Instead of satirizing Americans as he does in that novel, Greene acidly skewers British character and colonialism. Satire as well as class- and race-based references abound.

Sometimes the satire is pretty heavy handed, as in the rather shallow treatment the London based intelligence administrators receive. Also not well done is the relationship between the main character and his teenage daughter. While I had to laugh at how she manipulates her dad into buying her a pony, I can’t fathom how he acquiesces so easily to her accepting rides from the Cuban police captain who, people say, has a “…cigarette case covered with human skin.”

Still, the police captain is the most interesting character in the novel. Listen to his description of who is “torturable” and who is not. Greene’s ability to make your skin crawl while delivering humor is uncanny.

Our Man in Havana is a fun read. It’s not profound but it does entertain and makes you think back to the days of the Cold War and how much has changed — and how much has not.

Review copyright (c) 2010 by Dennis D. McDonald

This little book is organized around George Washington’s first and second terms as U.S. President. The first chapter concentrates on the relationship between Washington and his Secretary of State, Thomas Jefferson. The second focuses on the visit to the U.S. by Edmond-Charles Genêt, also known as “Citizen Genêt,” whose job it was to secure support from the American people for the French Revolution. Also covered are the Jay Treaty with England and the Whisky Rebellion. The author ties all these together in terms of the evolving relationship with France and how France and its Revolution were viewed by Washington, Jefferson, and the American people.

While I’m a great fan of history (see book reviews here and movie reviews here) I found this book to be a bit annoying. One can tell that the author has a point of view about history that is at odds with other historians; for me that’s not a problem by itself since he usually makes his opinions clear.

One problem I have is that his writing style — including basic sentence structure — can be hard to follow in occasional situations where it is unclear whether what is being stated is based on explicit historical evidence or on the opinion or inference of the author.

I suppose you could argue that this book was not intended as a scholarly work but I don’t think that’s the case here. I think that what this book represents is an extension of the author’s ongoing debates with other historians. Amateurs who aren’t well-grounded in the major intellectual issues surrounding this period’s history — such as myself — enter at their own risk.

That said, there are some major “plot holes” here that left me hanging. For example, the author makes a good case for stating that Washington did not trust Jefferson when it came to foreign affairs regarding England and France. But his attempt to explain why Washington kept Jefferson around, despite a lack of trust and despite Jefferson’s involvement in political activity that openly opposed Washington’s policies, is unsatisfactory and at one point seems to rest on quoting an imaginary statement by Jefferson — written by another author!

In summary, this book reads as if it was written for a small circle of scholarly friends and foes who are already familiar with the issues and debates about Washington and Jefferson.

Once you know that, though, reading this book should definitely interest you in reading more about this period of U.S. history!

Book review copyright (c) 2010 by Dennis D. McDonald

Have you ever worked by yourself for an extended period of time in a foreign country? If so, you’ll recognize a lot of what author Delisle writes about in Shenzhen.

In 1997 he stayed 3 months in Shenzhen, China while he managed an animation crew for his French employer. At that time the difference between Shenzhen and nearby Hong Kong was like the difference between night and day. Where Shenzhen was gritty and grim, Hong Kong was bright and lively.

What sets this book about his experiences apart from his North Korean illustrated adventure PYONGYANG — aside from the fact that China is not North Korea — is that here he is able to get “out and about” where his observational powers (and wry sense of humor) come to play. His Western eyes register small details of cultural differences in ways that someone visiting as a tourist may fail to notice.

Boredom and loneliness. He expresses them well here. Occasionally there does emerge a glimmer of human tenderness, but not that often. The atmosphere is totally different from his book BURMA CHRONICLES where he spent time with his family in a relatively comfortable living situation. Here he’s stuck in a hotel room for 3 months and after a while that gets to him. He expresses that well. But as a gifted artist and a sensitive observer he’s consistently entertaining.

This book in some ways may also serve as a historical document, too. Is life in Shenzhen the same as it was in 1997? Maybe not. It would be interesting to compare now with then. But I doubt that Delisle would want to spend another three months like he describes in this book.

Review copyright (c) 2010 by Dennis D. McDonald

At first I thought this book was just meandering and annoying. It wasn’t till page 69 (out of only 183) that I figured out what it’s about (I think).

I stuck with it. I’m glad I did. Wouk writes like an angel and knows how to tell a story.  He covers a lot of ground, drops a lot of names, and tells many pointed stories. The book becomes more thoughtful and personal as it proceeds, despite — or perhaps because of — the constant references to Wouk’s previous writings.

My take on what the book is about is that God exists but humans are incapable of completely comprehending God and related questions such as “the meaning of existence.” Moreover, our ability to ponder such questions is one of the things that makes us human.

Wouk concentrates a lot at first on a juxtaposition of science and religion. This morphs into a more pointed examination of his own faith. I’m probably more partial to science than to religion; as of this writing there are only four books tagged in my book review section as “religion” versus 16 as “science.” I have come to believe that simplistic assumptions that the two are somehow at odds are just that — simplistic. I find arguments about “science versus religion” tiresome, just as I find tiresome those people who think they have privileged knowledge about how God works.

So, what about the title of this book, “The Language that God Talks” — what’s that about?

At first Wouk leads us to believe he’s talking about Calculus. By the end of the book, I’m not so sure. Is Wouk saying that “science” is the “language” that God talks? Is he saying that God and Humans can talk the same language?

I’m not sure. Perhaps Wouk’s study of the Talmud has illuminated his own understanding of “the language that God talks” but I’m left with a sense of intrigue. But that’s good. Perhaps Wouk will address the topic in more detail in his next book.

Review copyright (c) 2010 by Dennis D. McDonald

This war history book about the U-boat war in the Atlantic during World War II has one of the best balances of strategy, tactics, and firsthand experience that I’ve read. The writing style is fluid and the research is meticulous. It also combines objectivity with frequently-gripping first person reporting.

There’s just enough strategy to let the reader understand the significance and the early-on desperation of England as supply convoys were meticulously cut down by Karl Dönitz’ U-boats.

The action was brutal. As the tide turned and the Allies began sinking more German submarines and convoy protection increased, the hopelessness of the German war situation became clearer and clearer. But Hitler and Dönitz kept the sea war going as fewer and fewer (and younger and younger) German crews returned to base.

There’s nothing romantic about the events in this story; England was desperate and killing was the name of the game on both sides. Naturally one takes away a sense of the waste of war from reading a book like this and this is amplified by the author’s focus on Dönitz and his continued loyalty to Hitler and his resulting willingness to fight an increasingly unwinnable war.

One glimmer of possibility of why this continuation was possible relates to surprising details this book surfaces about how understaffed the German submarine force was from the standpoint of intelligence, analytical support, and research and development, compared to the Allies. Dönitz simply didn’t have the resources that might have enabled him to see beyond Hitler’s increasingly imaginary strategic visions. If he had, would he have been more willing to pursue different tactics? We’ll never know.

Review copyright (c) 2010 by Dennis D. McDonald

This graphic novel depicts a two-month visit to North Korea by animator Delisle to supervise children’s TV animation work for his French employer. As in his Burma Chronicles, Delisle deftly intertwines humor, wry cultural observations, self deprecating wit, and thinly disguised sarcasm.

Without the leavening of being with his family, as is the case with Burma Chronicles, Delisle must face squarely and unblinkingly the soul-numbing quality of life in North Korea. Because of this, the overall tone of this book is somber, even sad.

Perhaps if he had been there longer and had been able to develop more intimate relationships with his local acquaintances, things would have been different. But living with constant supervision and surveillance quickly become annoying and even mind-numbing, especially when the environment in which this happens is so repressive and bleak.

It’s no accident that he has a copy of Orwell’s 1984 with him. And it’s probably not too far-fetched to think that the current regime in North Korea has studied that novel for suggested approaches to governance.

Review copyright (c) 2010 by Dennis D. McDonald

This comic strip depiction of Delisle’s year in Burma as a “house-dad” while accompanying his Doctors Without Borders wife is simultaneously touching, funny, and scary.

Initially he reports on the struggles of arriving in a new country with a professional wife and an infant. This gradually expands into an exploration of the day to day outrages faced by the Burmese people as they deal with a repressive political regime that, as best as I can tell, are basically a group of blood-sucking thugs.

A good companion piece for this book would be Finding George Orwell in Burma by Emma Larkin. Taken together they provide a view of an ancient and proud culture that is somehow dealing with a government that does everything in its power to resist basic freedoms that many of us (mistakenly) take for granted.

The beauty of Delisle’s book is his deft ability to interweave simple day to day activities with profound observations about culture and human spirit. And he does this with a spare drawing style that is both realistic and cartoon like.

And there is much humor here. Check out the “toad in the house” adventure, for example.

There is also touching sentimentality especially when the scene shifts to report on the words of bedridden elders who speak about the old days before the current regime. Delisle depicts these situations with grace and touching simplicity.

Review copyright (c) 2010 by Dennis D. McDonald

I started paying serious attention to flowers last year. My son gave me a camera that takes decent closeups. I started carrying the camera while walking our dog by the creek near our house and while working in our yard.

I realized quickly that there was a lot going on as the seasons changed that I didn’t understand. I resolved to learn something about plant life. This book, borrowed from our local public library, is one of my attempts to remedy that problem.

The author has packed an amazing amount of scientific information into this book while maintaining a very clear and clean writing style. I constantly find myself amazed by what I’m reading as I tell myself, “I had no idea flowers and plants were this complicated!”

One of the things I enjoy is that the book is not “dumbed down.” If you’re seriously interested in flowers and how they grow, operate, and die, this author seems to be saying, “I’m not going to kid you; you really need to know these things if you want to understand.”

Bernhardt provides a mixture of botany, science history, biology, physics, cell division, genetics, and horticulture, all in order to provide the reader with a sophisticated understanding of flowers.

If you do read this book, you’ll never again look at a blossom and just think, “Oh, that’s pretty.” You’ll also begin to have an understanding of what’s really going on. In my book, that’s a Very Good Thing.

Review copyright (c) 2010 by Dennis D. McDonald

The artwork is nowhere near the level of detail and sophistication present in the author’s Buddha graphic novel series, but the story’s scope is vast. It begins in the year 3404 when the human race is decaying. The periodic intervention of the mystical Phoenix is all that stands in the way of total physical collapse of the Earth.

The author’s inclusion of so many classic science fiction elements is almost breathtaking. The graphic novel format works to his advantage. Backstory is minimal, by definition, since the primary vehicle for forward motion in the story is graphic. But look at this list of components:

• far future end-of-time civilization
• decadent humanity
• underground cities built in the face of a blasted surface
• mad scientists living a solitary existence
• alien shape shifters persecuted by the ruling governments
• rebellious hero escapes city to the earth’s surface
• robots
• super computers running vast city states
• the end of humanity
• immortality

The list goes on. The novel works because of its vast scope and original presentation, but compared with the stunning graphic detail of Buddha, Future is a bit of a disappointment. But I have to admit, too, feeling a bit nostalgic as I read it. I grew up with science fiction novels that frequently dealt with various elements of this story. Seeing so many present in one story - in a  graphic novel, no less — is quite impressive, despite the shortcomings.

Review copyright (c) 2010 by Dennis D. McDonald

Review by Dennis D. McDonald

My knowledge of Buddhism and the Buddha is minimal. I approached this 8-volume manga series purely out of curiosity when I saw it sitting on the shelf in the graphic novels section of the Alexandria Public Library.

I’ve now read all 8 volumes. I’m overwhelmingly impressed with the scope, humor, drama, variety, and virtuosic artistry of this massive project.

We follow the Buddha from his childhood through his death. Along the way real and invented characters and spirits populate  the tale as we follow a gritty and human story involving a very personal quest that, over time, evolves to influnce the lives of thousands.

The author inserts quirky comments and humor periodically but we never lose sight of the significance of the Buddha’s life. There is really very little philosophy here. We get snippets of moral teachings here and there, but the focus is on the people and their very human foibles — and evils — as we constantly move around the mountainous areas and city-states of ancient India. 

Definitely worth the time to read and savor both the story and the pictures.

Review copyright (c) 2010 by Dennis D. McDonald

Corfield starts at Mercury and works his way out. In the process he summarizes what we know now about the solar system (circa 2007) now that we’ve had several decades of (mostly) robot exploration.

As he did with The Silent Landcsape he weaves history together with science. What emerges is a well-told story of exploration. I noticed a few things in particular:

• The planets and other bodies that orbit the sun make up a very mixed bag of geologies, climates, and life potential. One can’t help wonder how representative our solar system is of other solar systems and what this means for the possibility of life evolving elsewhere.
• Our knowledge of the planets has altered radically in recent decades since we started conducting fly-bys, orbits, and landings. At least two things emerge from this recent accumulation of knowledge. First, there’s no escaping the value of actually getting up close to other planets in order to actually see what’s going on there. Second, you can’t help but to begin appreciating how increasing knowledge of other worlds impacts our knowledge and understanding of our own.
• The role of competition, especially between the U.S. and the old Soviet Union, played a major role in boosting our exploration of the planets. Now that the Cold War is over and Japan, China, India, and others have become space-faring nations, it will be very interesting to see how this change in global politics impacts further planetary exploration.
• The stars of this book are clever unmanned devices and the teams of scientists and engineers behind them. Human exploration is only mentioned - and relevant - in passing. I don’t think this is intended as a criticism of manned exploration, but it does make you realize and appreciate what one can accomplish with unmanned spacecraft carrying out incredibly detailed and planned missions.
• Mistakes happen. Launch vehicles explode, crafts disappear upon entering alien atmospheres, and devices don’t always work correctly when they finally land. Redundancy helps, but it comes at great cost.

I intend to read more books by Corfield. He writes well and has a gift for organizing and presenting complex ideas and information without dumbing it down or insulting the reader’s intelligence. Perhaps most impressive is that he makes you think about the meaning and significance of his subjects. In my opinion, that’s a gift.

Review copyright (c) 2010 by Dennis D. McDonald

In 1872 the HMS Challenger left England on a two year voyage of scientific discovery. Armed with the latest scientific information, a team of sharp researchers, and hypotheses based on Darwinian evolutionary theory, the Challenger crew proceeded to collect data, specimens, and questions as they circled the globe with stops in Chile, Australia, and many other locations.

Corfield has studied and skillfully syhthesized the profusely documented research that was reported by the crew. He has also reviewed the personal diaries of the men who lived and worked on the ship.

While accidents and death were unfortunate partners to the daily drudgery of dragging the bottom and studying samples of animals and sediment, the many original findings and observations are reported with great clarity and sense of excitement.

Perhaps most intriguing is the way the author intersperses the discussion of the Challenger’s activities with modern follow on findings on topics such as species specialization, ocean bottom sediment analysis and dating, manganese “nodules,” and continental drift. All of this is woven together in a tale that never fails to fascinate.

The Challenger crew may have grown weary of the constant sampling of the ocean’s bottom, but the author never lets us forget where these findings fit in the overall progress of science.

Review copyright (c) 2009 by Dennis D. McDonald

Whenever I feel I’ve been reading too much non-fiction or I just want  to read a good story with interesting characters I turn to W. Somerset Maugham.

Over the years I’ve picked up several anthologies of his short stories and several of his novels. I’ve learned to trust his writing. Nobody comes close to his ability to deftly describe a character in a few pages and weave an interesting story.

The Narrow Corner is a short novel from 1932. As with many of Maugham’s stories it takes place in “The South Seas” where the remnants of Western imperialism and colonialism have left a trail of personal and professional crises, tragedies, and drama. This story is no different. An English expatriate opium-smoking doctor is hired to treat an old patient. The treatment requires a sailing trip with a disreputable captain and mysterious passenger on a small shabby sailing vessel.

They get to know each other on the voyage. They end up on an island where the colonial masters are eking out a business that has seen much better days. Naturally there is a beautiful young woman involved. Chaos and death follow.

Parts of the story are vintage Maugham writing — the beauty of the tropics, fascinating personal details that must be based on real life memories, and exquisite attention to dialog and personality. There’s also a “hothouse” atmosphere towards the end of the novel where all emotional hell breaks loose; this does lack Maugham’s usual subtlety.

But I’m not complaining. The Narrow Corner is a fun read.

Review copyright (c) 2009 by Dennis D. McDonald

In this fascinating and accessible book Ed Regis concludes that the maintenance of metabolic processes is really the primary indicator of “life.” But by the time that point is reached in the book, it doesn’t really matter.

What matters is that Regis has given us a wide-ranging view of “synthetic biology” that touches on chemistry, biology, genetics, heredity, evolution, natural selection, and the backgrounds of a diverse set of scientific researchers interested in creating a synthetic cell.

I’ll admit I don’t get too hung up on the question of “what is life?” I certainly appreciate the moral, religious, and legal implications of the question, having participated, for example, in the legal processes surrounding the death of a terminally ill friend. At one point in Regis’ book he does turn his attention to death after considering various definitions of life, but that section is not as strong as the others, perhaps because he doesn’t go into as much detail as he does on other “life-related” topics.

One  interesting part of the book is the author’s consideration of DNA and reproduction and how there have been serious questions raised about the primacy of the double helix in driving the generation and maintenance of life. In my own halting attempts to learn more about genetics in recent years I have become more aware of the complexities of reproduction, heredity, and natural variation, certainly more so than when I first learned about DNA in high school.

Perhaps most important is my personal conclusion that, as we learn scientifically more and more about the mechanisms of life, the boundaries between “life,” non-life,” and “death” become more and more fuzzy. That doesn’t mean I value life any less, but it does suggest that efforts to control, legislate, and limit certain types of scientific research are bound to fail.

This is a good, thoughtful, and well written book. My only complaint concerns the paucity of illustrations. The picture of the Krebs Cycle is nice, and the molecular model that follows it also nice (though unlabeled), but throughout the book there are many references to molecular structure and cellular components that cry out for illustrations. On balance, though, that author’s intellect, writing style, and clarity make this book both thought-provoking and insightful.

Text copyright (c) 2009 by Dennis D. McDonald. For more “science” book reviews click here.