The Scientific Revolution and the Origins of Modern Science by John Henry
I recently read the 3rd (2008) edition of John Henry’s The Scientific Revolution and the Origins of Modern Science – an excellent, though very brief, survey (it is 114 pages, not including the glossary and index).
Henry tends to see considerable continuity between the “natural magic” of medieval thought and the emerging scientific viewpoint, which was based on experiment and mathematical analysis. Personally, I think that he overstates the case a little. It is interesting that he never mentions Giordano Bruno, who was one of those who held on to the older magical view (then again, Bruno was not a scientist).
Replica of a van Leeuwenhoek microscope (photo: Jeroen Rouwkema)
Henry also puts emphasis on the emerging use of scientific instruments, such as the microscope and the telescope.
Galileo’s sketches of the moon, published in his Sidereus Nuncius of 1610
I was a little disappointed in the discussion of Galileo, which did not seem quite correct, but the main flaw in this book is its brevity. I’m giving it three stars.
The Scientific Revolution and the Origins of Modern Science by John Henry: 3 stars
Washbottles, old (left, photo: Hannes Grobe) and new (right).
Wash bottles, in one form or another, have been a long-term feature of the chemistry lab. Once they were made of glass, and were operated by blowing. In more recent times, plastic squeeze bottles have been used.
See here for more posts on scientific equipment.
The botanist Joseph Dalton Hooker was born 200 years ago, on 30 June 1817. Kew Gardens, of which he was the director, has a special event to commemorate him. Hooker travelled on expeditions to Antarctica, India, Palestine, Morocco, and the Western United States. The pictures below are from his The botany of the Antarctic voyage of H.M. discovery ships Erebus and Terror in the years 1839–1843, under the command of Captain Sir James Clark Ross. He also published several volumes on the botany of India.
On 26 May 1667, Abraham de Moivre was born. This French mathematician gave us, inter alia, the formula named after him:
De Moivre was born to French Protestant parents. When the Edict of Nantes was revoked, he was imprisoned for his beliefs for several years, after which he was allowed to leave for England. De Moivre made important contributions to probability theory, and was a pioneer of analytic geometry. Sadly, he was unable to get a university position in England, and he died in poverty.
In 1978 I started senior high school (year 11 and 12). That was a year of terrorism – a bomb was exploded outside the Sydney Hilton Hotel by the Ananda Marga group (apparently in an attempt to kill Indian prime minister Morarji Desai), and former Italian prime minister Aldo Moro (below) was kidnapped and murdered by the Red Brigades. On a more positive note, John Paul II became the first Polish pope, and helped to chip away at the power of the Soviet Union.
That year also marked the debut of the soap opera Dallas and the comic strip Garfield. In science, James Christy at the United States Naval Observatory discovered Pluto’s moon Charon. We finally got a good look at it in 2015:
In computing, the Turing Award went to Robert Floyd, for his work in programming languages and algorithms. Intel introduced the 8086, the first of the x86 microprocessors which are still the most common CPUs in personal computers and laptops today. The game Space Invaders also had its debut:
The year 1978 also saw the release of the unsatisfactory animated version of The Lord of the Rings, and a number of interesting albums, including The Kick Inside by Kate Bush, Pyramid by The Alan Parsons Project, Dire Straits by the band of the same name, the electronic Équinoxe by Jean Michel Jarre, and Jeff Wayne’s Musical Version of The War of the Worlds:
Of the books published that year, The Road Less Traveled by M. Scott Peck, the exceedingly dark The House of God by Samuel Shem, and A Swiftly Tilting Planet by Madeleine L’Engle (below) stand out.
After some feedback on my harp twins post, I thought I’d say something about the history of the harp. It’s one of the oldest musical instruments (following the flute and the drum). Harps are known to go back to 3500 BC, in Ur. Harp design has varied considerably over the 5500 years since then.
Later harps were of particular importance to the Celtic people, and the harp is still a symbol of Ireland today.
A limitation of harps has been that the strings correspond only to the white keys on the piano. A significant improvement was the pedal harp – initially the single-action version, and from 1810 the double-action version. The double-action pedal harp is typically tuned to C♭ major, the key of 7 flats. There are 7 pedals, with e.g. the C pedal connecting to all the C♭ strings. Using the pedal can effectively shorten all the strings in this group to give either C♮ or C♯ (and the same for other groups of notes).
The pedal harp is the main concert instrument today. Garrison Keillor once described the instrument as “an instrument for a saint” because “it takes fourteen hours to tune a harp, which remains in tune for about twenty minutes, or until somebody opens the door.”
A modern electric lever harp (photo:Athy)
Smaller harps (including modern electric harps, like the one above) use levers to modify individual strings (which makes key changes much more difficult than with the pedal harp). Electric harps weighing up to 8 kg are described as “wearable,” which reminds me a little of this 11 kg grand-daddy of the laptop.
The harp is often seen as a stereotypically feminine instrument – when I look at American harpists on Wikipedia, I count 10 men and 60 women. There are, however, exceptions.
Jakez François (president of French company Camac Harps) playing jazz
Inspired by a classic XKCD cartoon, the infographic above shows the year of publication and of setting for several novels, plays, and films.
They fall into four groups. The top (white) section is literature set in our future. The upper grey section contains obsolete predictions – literature (like the book 1984) set in the future when it was written, but now set in our past. The centre grey section contains what XKCD calls “former period pieces” – literature (like Shakespeare’s Richard III) set in the past, but written closer to the setting than to our day. He points out that modern audiences may not realise “which parts were supposed to sound old.” The lower grey section contains literature (like Ivanhoe) set in the more distant past.