Must, must, must read.

If you enjoy history, and approachable science. From quantum mechanics to clouds, Bryson reviews what humans know and who made the discoveries, often with humorous behind the scenes tidbits.

Love, love, loved it.

“Tune your television to any channel it doesn't receive and about 1 percent of the dancing static you see is accounted for by this ancient remnant of the Big Bang. The next time you complain that there is nothing on, remember that you can always watch the birth of the universe.”

*2020 Update:* I regularly list this book as one of my all time favorites. Thinking I might need to reread it one of these days and see if it is still as good as I remember.

«L’universo non è solo più strano di quanto immaginiamo, è più strano di quanto possiamo immaginare» J.B.S. Haldane

Bryson aveva centinaia di commenti positivi, mi son procurato sia l’e-book che il file audible, ma è solo grazie al secondo che ho portato avanti la lettura. La Breve storia di (quasi) tutto è una galleria piena di scienziati che hanno dato un contributo decisivo al progresso umano. Finché faccio i nomi di Newton, Einstein, Darwin credo che non vi siano dubbi sulla notorietà, ma se scrivo Lyell, Wistar, Cuvier, Lavoisier, Berzelius ecc.. quanti di voi hanno idea di chi fossero? Io no di certo, ho dovuto ricopiarli diligentemente. Non è solo la storia di quasi tutto, è la storia di quasi tutti. Per ogni personaggio c’è un cappello introduttivo che spesso contiene una nota di colore, eccone un esempio:

L’uomo a capotavola era l’astro più luminoso nel firmamento della paleontologia, una scienza giovane. Il suo nome era Richard Owen, e all’epoca aveva già dedicato molti anni di lavoro a fare della vita di Gideon Mantell un inferno in terra.
Owen era cresciuto a Lancaster, nel nord dell’Inghilterra, dove aveva studiato medicina. Era un anatomista nato e si era a tal punto consacrato ai suoi studi che a volte prendeva illegalmente a prestito arti, organi e altre parti di cadaveri e se li portava a casa per sezionarli con comodo

I personaggi sono paleontologi, fisici, geologi, chimici, astronomi, praticamente ognuno di essi potrebbe essere il protagonista di una biografia bizzarra o di un romanzo; presentati uno via l’altro è impossibile non confonderli. Chi, per esempio, comprese che l’atomo era composto in massima parte da uno spazio vuoto, con un nucleo molto denso al centro? Io potrei rispondere solo libro alla mano.
Per quanto si tratti di un libro di divulgazione, impossessarsi di alcuni concetti è davvero difficile.
In quanto si tratta di un libro di divulgazione storceranno il naso agli scienziati e gli specialisti delle varie branche del sapere che tocca.
Ho preferito la maggiore sistematicità di Harari (Da animali a Dèi) che ha suddiviso il libro cronologicamente anziché per argomenti come ha fatto Bryson. La suddivisione di Bryson ha comportato salti temporali e ripetizioni che in alcuni casi mi hanno fatto perdere l’orientamento. Ritaglio il capitolo 20 intitolato “Com’è piccolo il mondo” che a proposito dei batteri dice:

Ogni batterio è in grado di prelevare informazioni genetiche da qualsiasi altro batterio. Essenzialmente, come hanno detto Margulis e Sagan, tutti i batteri condividono un unico pool genico.11 Qualunque cambiamento adattativo si verifichi in un’area dell’universo batterico potrà diffondersi a qualsiasi altra area. È più o meno come se un uomo potesse andare da un insetto e prelevare da esso l’informazione genetica necessaria per farsi crescere le ali o camminare sul soffitto. Ciò significa che dal punto di vista genetico i batteri sono diventati un unico superorganismo: microscopico, disperso, ma invincibile.
Vivranno e prospereranno su tutto ciò che ci scrolleremo di dosso, verseremo o lasceremo gocciolare. Basta creare un minimo di umidità – come quando si passa un panno bagnato su un tavolo per farli proliferare come se fossero stati creati dal nulla. Mangeranno il legno, la colla della carta da parati, i metalli nella vernice rappresa. Gli scienziati australiani scoprirono un microbo chiamato Thiobacillus concretivorans che non solo viveva in concentrazioni di acido solforico talmente forti da dissolvere il metallo, ma non avrebbe potuto farne a meno. Un’altra specie, Micrococcus radiophilus, viveva beatamente nei contenitori per le scorie dei reattori nucleari, dove si rimpinzava plutonio e di quant’altro mai vi fosse contenuto.
I batteri, non dimentichiamolo, hanno vissuto per miliardi di anni senza di noi; noi, al contrario, non riusciremmo a sopravvivere un solo giorno senza di loro.

Ma come fai ad ascoltare roba del genere? Già.. come faccio? Non lo so. L’ascolto volentieri in auto, a passeggio, sulla cyclette, non posso ascoltarla da sdraiato: cinque minuti e poi… più non sento, e mi addormento, mi addormento, mi addormeeentoo!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J8qUQ...

11/10 - a book everyone should read simply because of the knowledge it imparts to the reader.

This is one of those books where I realised after a few pages that I couldn't even plan to write this book, let alone put the words on to the page.

A stunning achievement and if I had to recommend one anecdote, it would be Edmond Halley (of comet fame) going to see Isaac Newton about the path the Earth follows around the sun.

Halley and Christopher Wren (in the time when he was a famous mathematician / astronomer before he became a famous architect) and Robert Hooke (the man who proved the law of elasticity) couldn't agree on the path - was it a circle, an ellipse, a parabola?

Isaac was able to prove what kind of curve the Earth took around the sun, however he couldn't put his hand on the written-down proof because his desk wasn't too tidy, so Isaac wrote it down again and sent the proof to Edmond Halley.

বইটার নামকরণের সার্থকতা আছে, "প্রায় সবকিছুর সংক্ষিপ্ত ইতিহাস"-ই বটে।

তবে এখানে কিন্তু মেসোপোটেমিয়া বা মিসরীয় সভ্যতার ইতিহাস লেখা নেই। নেই ব্রিটিশ সাম্রাজ্য বা দ্বিতীয় বিশ্বযুদ্ধের ইতিহাসও।
বিল ব্রাইসন বলেছেন মহাবিশ্বের ইতিহাস, বিজ্ঞানের অগ্রগতির ইতিহাস, বিস্ময়কর আবিষ্কারের ইতিহাস, অজানা রহস্যের গল্প এবং এর নেপথ্যে থাকা বিজ্ঞানীদের গল্প।

জ্যোতির্বিজ্ঞান, পদার্থবিজ্ঞান, ভূতত্ত্ব, রসায়ন, জীববিজ্ঞান, প্রাণিবিজ্ঞান, অণুজীববিজ্ঞান, বিবর্তনবাদ, ফসিলবিজ্ঞান প্রায় সবকিছু নিয়েই লেখক আলোচনা করেছেন। অবশ্য উদ্ভিদ নিয়ে আলাপটা কম হয়েছে।

বইটা বেশ সহজবোধ্য ভাষায় লেখা। কিন্তু বইয়ের পাতায় পাতায় এত এত ইনফরমেশন আছে যে মাথা ভারি হয়ে যায়।

কিছু কিছু অংশ পড়ার সময় হয়তো মনোযোগ হারিয়েছি, তখন ভেবেছি কিছু কি মিস করলাম? এই অংশটা কি আরেকবার পড়া উচিত?
এই ভেবে কখনও রি-রিড করেছি। আবার কখনও মনে হয়েছে যা জানলাম তাতেই চলবে, আর জানতে চাইছি না।


এবার একটা নেতিবাচক পয়েন্ট বলি।
চমৎকার সব ছবির আছে বইটিতে। কিন্তু ছবির সমাবেশ আরও দক্ষতার সাথে করা যেত। তথ্য-উপাত্ত বর্ণনার জন্য কিছু ডায়াগ্রাম, গ্রাফ, চার্ট ব্যবহার করলে ভালো হতো। যেমন বায়ুমন্ডলের স্তরের চিত্র, ভূত্বকের স্তরের চিত্র ইত্যাদি। এছাড়া বিজ্ঞানের বইয়ের ক্ষেত্রে পরমাণুর গঠনের চিত্র, জীবকোষ ও জীবকোষীয় অঙ্গাণুর চিহ্নিত চিত্র (কোষ নিয়ে একটা অধ্যায় থাকবে অথচ কোষের একটা ছবি থাকবে না?, কোষ যিনি আবিস্কার করেছেন তাঁর ছবির চেয়ে কোষের ছবি গুরুত্বপূর্ণ) , ডিএনএ, আরএনএর গঠনের চিত্র না থাকলেই নয়।

বইটা পড়ার সাথে কার্ল সেগান, ডেভিড অ্যাটেনবোরো, নিল ডিগ্রাস টাইসনের ডকুমেন্টারির দেখার অভিজ্ঞতার তুলনা করা যায়। জ্ঞানসমুদ্রের তীরে নুড়িপাথর কুড়ানোর অভিজ্ঞতা।

“Not one of your pertinent ancestors was squashed, devoured, drowned, starved, stranded, stuck fast, untimely wounded, or otherwise deflected from its life's quest of delivering a tiny charge of genetic material to the right partner at the right moment in order to perpetuate the only possible sequence of hereditary combinations that could result—eventually, astoundingly, and all too briefly—in you.”

A Short History of Nearly Everything is not as impossibly far-reaching as the title would indicate. An attempt to cram everything and the kitchen sink into a work intended for the general reader is surely a recipe for failure—or so one might think. Bryson marshals science, history, and philosophy to present a big-picture understanding of our universe from past to present. Extraneous details are filtered out, and mysteries left unexamined, yet it somehow feels complete. Not unlike a film editor who can cut down 24 hours of production material into a feature-length film, he manages to pack a world of wonder and insight into an accessible and entertaining, though relatively lengthy (544-page) tome.

Bryson's preoccupation is less with the rote repetition of facts (though there is that, too) than with conveying just how it is we know what we know. He takes us behind the curtain for a more intimate look at the process of discovery and the strokes of genius essential to that process.

Lengthy and mildly scatterbrained it might be, ASHONE is a pure literary delight. The author's excitement and enthusiasm for the subject matter drip from every page. The sheer joy he receives from learning little gems he missed in high school or being reintroduced to information forgotten long ago is intoxicating. He meets with a wonderful cast of men and women to highlight the personalities behind the stories of discovery. Lone geniuses are a rarity in any field, and science is no exception. Bryson scratches below the surface to meet the individuals who played prominent roles yet went unrecognized.

In taking the long view, Bryson engages some of science's toughest questions. Everything from the Big Bang to man's (relatively terse) evolutionary past is presented here, with a nod to some of the more eminent and intriguing figures from each field. I particularly appreciated that after a concept was explained, he immediately followed up with the most obvious question in response. It really helps the lay reader navigate these complex topics.

Bryson spends a good amount of time on natural disasters, describing the assorted ways they shaped the history of our planet. His frequently humorous analogies help you understand their sheer scale and the havoc left in their wake. Ice ages, earthquakes, supervolcanoes, and pandemics are each showcased in breathtaking detail in some of the most harrowing events on planetary record. Given all the chaos that has besieged our planet, it becomes soberingly clear by the book's end that we humans—or any life for that matter—are incredibly lucky to be here. In light of all that can go wrong and has gone wrong, it's remarkable there is any life left to comment on the tragedy and storied disarray. I commend Bryson for demonstrating how truly diminutive our time here on Earth is relative to the universe's imponderably vast history.

Bryson should also be applauded for pointing out places where our inquiry has hit a brick wall or those areas that remain imperfectly understood. The fact that we have accumulated such vast storehouses of knowledge over the last few centuries does not mean there are no mysteries left to explore. Indeed, dozens of questions both big and small remain unanswered, and new discoveries have a tendency to open up several more. We can both be proud about what we have uncovered to date and humble about the many uncharted possibilities that surely await us.

Fast and Loose with Science

There are a few caveats, however, with respect to some of the finer details. In one place he describes particles with "spin" as actually rotating about an axis (they are not). This erroneous conception of elementary particles dates back to the 1920s, when George Uhlenbeck and Samuel Goudsmit interpreted the motion of electrons as self-rotation around their own axis. A few years later, Paul Dirac pointed out that electrons could not be spinning according to the rules of orbital angular momentum because the rate at which their surface would have to be spinning (to produce the magnitude of the magnetic moment) would have to exceed the speed of light, which would violate the special theory of relativity.

In another place Bryson says that quantum entanglement is a violation of relativity (it is not). Relativity tells us that nothing can travel faster than the speed of light, and this applies even to things with zero mass, such as information or other electromagnetic radiation. Entanglement says that measuring a particle in one place can instantly affect a particle somewhere else. However, this effect is constrained by the cosmic speed limit. On p. 42 of his book n  What Is Relativity?n, Jeffrey Bennett responds to this notion:

"However, while laboratory experiments suggest that this instantaneous effect can really happen, current understanding of physics tells us that it cannot be used to transmit any useful information from one place to the other; indeed, if you were at the location of the first particle and wanted to confirm that the second had been affected, you'd need to receive a signal from its location, and that signal could not travel faster than light."

Bryson also claims that the production of black holes within particle accelerators like the Large Hadron Collider could destroy the world, when in fact, these microscopic black holes would disintegrate in nanoseconds thanks to Hawking radiation. On p. 154 of the same book, Bennett also debunks this largely media-driven fear:

"Some physicists have indeed proposed scenarios in which such micro black holes could be produced in the Large Hadron Collider, but even if they are right, there's nothing to worry about. The reason is that while the LHC can generate particles from greater concentrations of energy than any other machine that humans have ever built, nature routinely makes such particles. Some of those particles must occasionally rain down on Earth, so if they were dangerous, we would have suffered the consequences long ago.

In case you are wondering how a micro black hole could be "safe," the most likely answer has to do with a process called Hawking radiation...Hawking showed that the laws of quantum physics imply that black holes can gradually "evaporate" in the sense of having their masses decrease, even while nothing ever escapes from within their event horizons. The rate of evaporation depends on a black hole's mass, with lower-mass black holes evaporating much more rapidly. The result is that while the evaporation rate would be negligible for black holes with star-like masses or greater, micro black holes would evaporate in a fraction of a second, long before they could do any damage."

He may have consulted with experts, but the manuscript could have benefited from additional fact-checking. That said, although the book was published in 2003, there is little that is out of date as of this writing—the confirmed interbreeding between Neanderthals and Denisovans being one notable discovery of late that adds greater texture to the stories recounted here. I also feel there could (and should) have been a greater emphasis on climate change; Bryson seemed to skirt over it whenever a related topic arose, and it's not clear whether this was intentional.

Closing Thoughts

The content in ASHONE is something I think everyone should know and be exposed to, and it's hard to imagine the material presented with greater alacrity than it is here. The passion and unbridled enthusiasm on display frequently approaches Sagan-esque proportions, in a style redolent of the signature series Cosmos, which is about the highest praise a work in this genre could hope to achieve. Though I found a few errors—and suspect the average grad student in one of a number of the subjects covered could spot a handful more—the book is nevertheless a praiseworthy stab at science writing for the layperson. Bryson set an ambitious task for himself and ultimately delivered a lively, accessible, and mostly scientifically faithful, albeit cursory, proem to the history of the universe as we know it today.

“Even now as a species, we are almost preposterously vulnerable in the wild. Nearly every large animal you can care to name is stronger, faster and toothier than us. Faced with attack, modern humans have only two advantages. We have a good brain, with which we can devise strategies, and we have hands with which we can fling or brandish hurtful objects. We are the only creature that can harm at a distance. We can thus afford to be physically vulnerable.” (p. 447)

Note: This review is republished from my official website.

Breve storia di quasi tutto è, di fatto, il riassunto di tutto in poco più di 500 pagine. E per tutto, si intende tutto: Big bang, stelle, pianeti, terra, mare, acqua, fuoco, atomi, cellule,DNA…tutto. Cioè, almeno fino al 2003, anno in cui è stato pubblicato. Eh sì, manca New Horizons che saluta Plutone e la foto del buco nero, ma son dettagli.

Ci sono degli errori, è vero, ma chi se ne lamenta non ha letto la parte in cui l’autore stesso lo ammette, in fondo è impossibile conoscere e approfondire “tutto”! Si è avvalso di molti studiosi che gli hanno permesso di fare “solo” quei pochi errori che chi è ferrato su un dato argomento, sicuramente noterà.

Ma non è questo il punto.

Il punto è il modo in cui racconta questa Storia di quasi tutto, con ironia, e soprattutto con chiarezza, semplificando al massimo concetti davvero (davvero!) complessi, rendendoli accessibili anche a chi non ha mai avuto a che fare con la scienza. Con qualsiasi tipo di scienza.

E’ chiaro, non è certo un testo con ambizioni scientifiche, anzi, lo dichiara proprio che cercherà di metterci meno matematica ( e numeri) possibile, è solo un breve riassunto in fondo, mica un saggio universitario! Se vi piace la scienza, studiatela, approfonditela, questo libro non è nato per questo, Breve storia di quasi tutto è per chi non ci ha mai capito niente o è sempre stato spaventato da cose strane come leggi fisiche o formule matematiche ma ha sempre avuto la curiosità di sapere “com’è andata per davvero”.

E’ più un racconto di scoperte e degli scienziati che le hanno rese possibili in realtà, che pone l’attenzione sulla personalità degli studiosi stessi e su quanto noi siamo del tutto fuoristrada quando riconosciamo nello scienziato la figura del nerd buono, ingenuo, con il naso in mezzo ai libri e mosso dal solo e puro amore per scienza. Non è così, anche gli scienziati sono uomini, e spesso, sono brutte persone, strane, vendicative e rancorose che non esitano ad affossare i propri colleghi per arrivare primi a una scoperta.
Uno tra tutti il Signor Watson ( vabbè , qui non è Bryson che ne parla, sono io che ce l’ho a morte con lui).

Alcuni aneddoti hanno un certo non so che di tragicomico surrealismo ed e è impossibile non sorridere orripilati pensando a certe scene, e ammetto, questo suo modo di raccontare le cose “in simpatia” è uno dei tratti che apprezzo di più nello scrittore.

E niente, l’ho amato. Andate in libreria e iniziate a leggere l’introduzione, sarà amore anche per voi ( oppure odio, eh).

La mia edizione è stata stampata “col sole” perciò, anche se hanno abbattuto alberi per ottenere la carta, almeno mi consola sapere che nessuna centrale di carbone ha contribuito ad intasare i polmoni di nessuno per produrla.

Third review, March 5, 2019.

Has it really been nearly 9 years since I re-read this? No. But I guess it has. A Short History of Nearly Everything is one of those formative books that has stuck with me for a long, long time.

I have little to add to this review. I thought I had lots to say, but re-reading my review from 2010 below … I already said it there. I was going to talk about Bryson’s repetitive phrasing, praise how he explains how much we don’t know, and remark on how good this book is at just … luxuriating in the knowledge we have.

I will add that I think this book, by and large, holds up even 15 years on. Our scientific knowledge certainly has advanced since then. Some of the mysteries that Bryson mentions here have been solved—while others have deepened. Moreover, reading this now with a more critical eye than I did in 2010, I’ll acknowledge there’s a pinch of Western gaze going on here. At one point, in the last chapter, Bryson comments how it was such a shame that the Chinese were grinding up bones for medicines instead of studying the bones to learn more about our past. Hello, casual racism. It might seem like I’m nitpicking now, especially considering how Bryson wryly highlights the racism and sexism of our past, but that’s exactly why I don’t want to let him slide on something like that.

That being said, for the most part this book remains just so damn energizing. It inspires me to think big, to think about and marvel at the incredible world we inhabit. I honestly haven’t craved any of Bryson’s other works—I liked one, didn’t like the other, and have a few more on my to-read list but can’t be bothered to jump on them. But there’s something about the way he writes about this stuff, about this history of science, that just works for me. If it doesn’t work for you, I get it, this book will be a bit plodding and boring. But if it works for you … oh, wow, will it ever work for you.

Read Ben from 2010’s opinions to find out why!

Second reading review, May 7, 2010.

I cannot recommend this book enough. No word of hyperbole: this is a book that everyone should read. Bill Bryson takes the span of human existence and produced a popular history of science that's both accurate and moving. A Short History of Nearly Everything is a celebration of science, but it also evokes the sense of wonder about the universe that science makes available to us. And, almost inevitably, it underscores how much we still have yet to learn about our world.

Throughout history, one of the common arguments against the expansion of science has been something to the effect of "science removes the mystery" of the universe. Well, yes, that's kind of the point. But what opponents to scientific investigation usually mean to say, explicitly or not, is that because we know more about the universe, somehow that makes the universe less wonderful. Somehow a universe of quarks and gluons is less romantic than a universe powered by God. Thus, the argument goes, we shouldn't get too serious about this science stuff—it's depressing.

My response: Are you on crack?

I have just as much trouble fathoming how opponents of science find science depressing and nihilistic as they have trouble fathoming how I find science awesome. It seems self-evident to me that science is wonderful, that it is truly the most appropriate vehicle we have for appreciating our existence. But maybe that's just me, and obviously it's not everyone. So what A Short History of Nearly Everything does is level the playing field, extend the olive branch, if you will. Just as this review isn't an anti-religion diatribe, A Short History barely mentions religion. It doesn't talk about Galileo's persecution by the Church or the rise of creationism and intelligent design in the United States. Bryson and his book are above that. They reaffirm a sentiment I already have, and one I hope you share, either prior to or after reading this book.

Science is fucking awesome.

Sure, one can't understand every scientific concept that one comes across. But that's to be expected. Wave-particle duality is tricky stuff. Just as anyone can become a good handyman with some common sense and little experience, anyone can learn a little bit about quantum mechanics—but if you want to build a quantum house, you'll need many years of experience under your belt.

Even we amateurs, however, can appreciate how cool it is that, for example, our bodies are made of stardust. The heavier elements, of which we are mostly composed, were forged in the crucibles of supernovae light-years away. We're here because some star died for us, and all the atoms managed to travel to Planet Earth. We're here because the Sun pumps out photons that heat our atmosphere, so we don't freeze, and the ozone layer reflects some of the photons away, so we don't fry. Our existence is temporal and transitory and tentative. But we do exist. And regardless of one's stance toward religion, this simple fact is a miracle.

So science can give us miracles too. What Bryson does is take bits and pieces of science, put them in a historical context, and show us the miracles they contain. The result is an appreciation and a better understanding of how the world works.

This is a rather long book—my edition is over 400 pages—and I have to admit it took me a longer time to re-read it than I had anticipated. It's worth the time. Every section is informative and interesting. Although I have a soft spot for physics, the chapters on relativity and quantum mechanics aren't my favourite—perhaps because I've already learned about the concepts elsewhere, so it felt a little redundant. Instead, I really enjoyed reading about the rise of geology, chemistry, and taxonomy. From this book I've learned that fossilization is a risky business; there's way more species hiding everywhere on and underneath the planet than we'll probably ever find; and if I happen to still be alive in a few thousand years, I should probably get volcano insurance.

Even while educating us, Bryson emphasizes how much we don't know. Sometimes the media likes to portray science or scientific theories as "complete" when they are anything but. Perhaps here is where that niggling nihilism starts to rear its head for some people, for Bryson makes it clear that with some things, we probably just can't know, at least not in a timely fashion. On the macroscopic level, once we get out to about the range of Pluto, the distances are so vast as to be almost insurmountable. On the microscopic level, Planck and Heisenberg ensured there would always be a little uncertainty. But I'm OK with that. Preserves the mystery, after all. And provides yet more challenges.

Our ignorance also carries with it a sense of helplessness. We aren't very good at tracking near-Earth objects, for instance, which means if an asteroid does strike us sometime in the near future, we probably won't see it until it hits the atmosphere. Then it will be too late. And even if we did, we don't have the capability to destroy or divert it. Still, lifting the veil of ignorance on one's ignorance is essential to improving one's ability to think critically about science. Who knows: maybe A Short History will inspire some kid to go into astronomy or engineering and invent better asteroid detection equipment.

The upshot of this—as Bryson likes to put it, because his writing style is peppered with repeated phrases like this—is that Bryson presents both the good and the bad of science. As much as science is wonderful, it's also a human enterprise, and we humans are notoriously fallible instruments. Scientists are not immune—indeed, practically prone—to taking credit for another person's work; Bryson is quick to interject anecdotes about the personalities, quirks, and flaws of the persons of interest in the book.

On that note, I wish I kind of had some sort of fact-checking utility for this book. Of course there are references and a bibliography, and Bryson claims in the acknowledgements that various reputable experts have reviewed the material. As much as I love A Short History, however, it is popular science and prone to simplification. So take the anecdotal parts with a grain of salt—for example, contrary to what Bryson claims, NASA didn't destroy the plans for the Saturn V lander (the real problem is trying to find enough reliable vintage parts to construct the thing).

Overall the quality of A Short History of Nearly Everything is just so brilliant that I can't condemn Bryson for his enthusiasm. And I still have several adjectives left, so I can also say that this book is fabulous and stupendous, and you should definitely buy a copy or hold up your local library until it produces one. And if you don't have a local library, you should construct a doomsday device and hold the Earth hostage until such an edifice is constructed in a town near you. Got it? Good.

It's a book worth reading and a book worth remembering; A Short History of Nearly Everything is science and history wrapped in a nutshell of wonder.

First review.
I cannot recommend this book enough to people.

Bill Bryson manages to convey a technically detailed history of the planet while maintaining a readable, comprehensible writing style. His tone is engaging, and his tales are captivating--I particularly enjoyed the discussions on physics and on the development of archaeology and the theory of evolution.

A Short History of Nearly Everything is to books what Bill Nye the Science Guy is to television. This is a book for science lovers and a book for those who swore they'd never take a science class again. I'm a fairly intelligent person; I learned a lot from this book, but at the same time I was already at least acquainted with much of the material it presents. However, that did not stop me from having, "whoa!" moments throughout the book, moments of realization at how complex and wonderful our universe is--and how special it is that we, humans, can strive to understand such a phenomenon.

n  n

A Short History of Nearly Everything is simply a masterpiece. This monster of a book offers such dense information in such an entertaining format, I'd need to read it once a year to get everything I could out of it. Now that I think about it, maybe I will!

This book is as much about discovery and good journalism as it is about science. The author, Bill Bryson, takes us through a history of science in the most personal way possible. Our starting point is his starting point: How exactly did we come to have the knowledge we have of the world around us?

In addition to introducing us to the ideas that shape the way we see the world, the author also takes us into the adventure of science. He takes into the hardships and heartaches, the often petty, ego-driven personalities that move our knowledge forward. He takes us into the lives of great scientists both remembered and forgotten. He takes us into the messiness of the debates that have driven scientific conversations. He takes us out into the field where he interviews people working on scientific problems today. He takes us into the realm of the infinitely vast universe, into the infinitely small universe of atoms, into the ancient past, and gives us a sense of the science that may be yet to come.

And in doing so, we get a sense of how precarious our own existence is and the miracle that we have become aware of so much of the universe around us. For this reason, I would recommend this book both to those who are looking for an interesting introduction to science and to those who are looking for a book that will help them marvel at their own existence.

Every now and then I pick a non-fiction book. I'm truly delighted by the approach of Bill Bryson. It's a different take than other books such as the famous "A Brief History of time" by Stephen Hawking. This is written for a much broader audience and it's trying to get those on board who really struggle to get into science. He is mixing easy language, facts and gossip to keep the story interesting and the readers on board. Really enjoyed reading this book!

Also, I blame school that they succeed to make science boring and more complicated than it needs to be. We really need this kind of storytelling if we want our next generations to get more interested in these themes.

This is an ambitious book covering the history and development of ideas from a very wide range of topics pertaining to how we (humans) got here. Bryson starts all the way with the big bang, to the formation of the cosmos, the solar system and the planet, abiogenesis, evolution, and finally human prehistory. The book spices up a relatively high-level discussion of the relevant scientific topics with the lives and idiosyncrasies of the scientists who made the critical discoveries.

I admire the book for its scope, but an unfortunate side effect is that the book doesn’t get a chance to dive in to any one topic in a satisfying manner. Instead we get an overview of many topics and ideas which is fun sometimes unless you’re already familiar with the topics (e.g. Darwin’s beagle voyages, Watson&Crick’s DNA discovery, spread of humans from Africa, etc.). I personally somehow found the book a little tedious by the end and I was happy when it was over. Marking read, phew. 3/5 - it was okay. I suspect someone less familiar with many of the topics who is content with a broad but shallow overview and willing to hear a lot about the lives of scientists who made the relevant discoveries could enjoy it much more.

Okay, so here's my Bill Bryson story. I was in The Gladstone, a public house not too far from this very keyboard, with my friend Yvonne, who will remain nameless. We had been imbibing more than freely. A guy approached our table and asked me in a sly surreptitious manner if I was him. Him who? Was I Bill Bryson? Now it is true that I bear a very slight resemblance



but you could also say that about Bjorn from Abba



and a zillion other white guys with beards and gently rounded fizzogs. Anyway, without missing a beat I said yes, I was him. So the guy immediately asked me if I'd sign two of his books, and before I could say "Come on mate, I'm not actually American, can't you bleedin well tell?" he had zapped out of the pub. Only to zap straight back with two hardbacks of Bill's deathless works. What could I do? He opened them up reverentially and told me one would be for him and one for his mother. Friends, I signed them - "Best wishes, your friend Bill Bryson". He was so grateful, so very very pleased. We drank up and got the hell out of there. I look back on this disgraceful incident and shudder. That's the last time I'm impersonating a famous author.


Short note on the book in question:

There was no way our Bill could write a gently humorous book about the history of all of science without sounding like a fairly smirky know-it-all, so that's what he does sound like, which can be just a trifle wearing. LOTS of good info in here, but it's like being forced to live on Indian takeaways and nothing else, great for a while and then GET ME A SANDWICH! Or like being stuck on a long airplane ride with a very garrolous and opinionated fellow who thinks he is the very model of the modern travelling companion, regaling you with insightful and humourous anecdotes by the bucketful while you're wondering if it would be so bad if you faked a heart attack and you could whisper to the flight attendant "I'm okay really but GET ME AWAY FROM THIS GUY!"