(Nov 1, 2024)
The Importance of Being Interested, by Robin Ince (2021)
Robin Ince is a comedian and science enthusiast. He presents one of the world's most popular science podcasts called The Infinite Monkey Cage with Professor Brian Cox, a physicist. Unlike the science-for-the-layman books written by scientists like Carl Sagan and Carlo Rovelli, this is not a straight-forward explication of a particular science or a broad-strokes look at the many aspects of science. At least, it is not only that.
Robin Ince takes an interesting approach. The story of science and what we have learned in the study of everything from cosmology to geology, from biology to quantum physics is laid out and interspersed with stories of people who work in these fields, and presented in the broader context of what all these sciences and discoveries mean for us as humans, how they impact our view of ourselves, our thoughts about God, religion and faith, the way we organise our societies and what we prioritise in our politics.
Ince writes that the twin powers of a scientist are curiosity and doubt. Curiosity leads them to ask questions and to try to learn more about the world. A healthy amount of doubt means that they know that they don't know everything and that they don't have all the answers or all the right answers at any given point. They are open to new ideas and new information, which might lead them to revise their theories, and change some of their ideas.
He goes on to write about certainties in religion and politics (the kind that are not usually found in science) that lead to the rise of demagogues who are believed, uncritically, by the people who follow them, people engaging in increasingly tribal behaviour and the irrationalities that result from this. This book was written in 2020 during the Covid pandemic, which exacerbated a lot of the harmful trends and tendencies of the current era, notably the belief in conspiracy theories, and the refusal to acknowledge, let alone examine, any evidence to the contrary, and the suspicious attitude to science and scientists.
This book begins with the author writing about his own personal journey toward his love for science. Robin Ince writes that he, like all other kids, had a sense of wonder about the world, but as he grew up and got to middle school, science class went from being fascinating to being dull and complicated. He lost interest and decided, the way so many of us do, that science was not for him, and got on with his life.
But things changed for him as an adult, and he managed to recapture the curiosity and the sense of wonder he had as a child. He started asking questions, looking around, reading, trying to learn and make sense of the world in a way that I think would benefit all of us in some measure. That's the primary argument of this book, that it is important to be interested in the world around around us, and everything that we've learned about it.
It is impossible to learn anything about cosmology and not come away feeling awed by the sheer size and magnificence of the known universe. It is difficult to learn anything about quantum physics and not think that underneath all the complicated mathematics that explain it, there is a little bit of magic.
This is a wonderful book, a magnificent effort by a layman to show his fellows how fascinating life can be when we engage in a bit of intellectual curiosity.
Travels With My Aunt, by Graham Greene (1969)
Graham Greene was a prolific 20th century English novelist, short-story writer, playwright, and journalist, renowned for his works that explore moral and political ambiguities within the modern world, often through the lens of his Catholic faith. Some of his most celebrated novels include Brighton Rock, The Power and the Glory, The Heart of The Matter, The End of the Affair, The Quiet American, and Our Man in Havana. In contrast to the somber and serious tone of these works, I chose to read Travels with My Aunt which I believe marked a departure for Greene, a blend of humour, adventure, and social commentary.
The novel follows Henry Pulling, a recently retired bank manager leading a quiet and predictable life in suburban England. Henry, in his early fifties, is not old, but accepts the offer of an earlier than usual retirement. A single man, his only interest is in caring for his dahlias, he does not have an active social life. At the start of the novel, Henry is preparing for his mother's funeral, and he feels a strange excitement, he believes people are always at their best at a funeral and finds himself looking forward to it. His world is turned upside down when he encounters his eccentric Aunt Augusta for the very first time - a memorable introductory line delivered by Aunt Augusta here (“I was once present at a premature cremation”). Following the funeral, Henry begins to spend more time with his aunt, his last remaining relative, and finds that he rather enjoys her company and her many colourful stories. She drops a couple of hints that lead Henry to believe that his deceased mother was not his biological mother but Augusta evades any further probing on the matter. It’s a truth he hopes to get from her eventually. He isn't sure about just how true all her stories are, but after a point he does not seem to care much, all he knows is he enjoys them.
A septuagenarian with a zest for life, Augusta does not care for convention and has little patience with moral judgement. Soon, she enlists Henry as companion on her travels. First to Brighton, then to Paris and Istanbul on the Orient Express, and in the final portion of the novel, Henry catches up with her in Paraguay. Far from the peaceful and slow travels one would expect with an old relative, Henry is introduced to a world of intrigue, smuggling, and unconventional relationships.
He initially resists the experience of travel and how it takes away from his sense of comfort and familiarity (and his dahlias), but then he gradually begins to shed his inhibitions. And eventually, the life of spontaneity and adventure embraced by his irrepressible aunt, seems to him the only way to live and to feel alive.
(Note: This is a novel of its time and must be read as such, some terms may be out of place in a contemporary context. The dialogue Greene wrote for Wordsworth - a genial man from Sierra Leone who is Aunt Augusta’s roommate and lover in the early part of the novel - can be a bit cringey.)
The Spy Who Came in From the Cold, by John Le Carre (1963)
This espionage thriller helped reshape the genre and is widely considered one of the best spy novels ever written. John Le Carre’s true identity (his real name was David Cornwell) was revealed shortly after the release of the novel, along with the fact that he had spent time in MI5 and MI6 in the 1950s and 60s. The public and press alike assumed, based on how authentic the novel read, that Cornwell/Le Carre clearly had direct knowledge and experience in the world of Cold War espionage and counter-espionage. The author maintained that his work for the intelligence service was rather dull, that it did not involve any of the aspects in the novel, and that the novel was a work of pure fiction. His note at the end of this edition, written 50 years after publication, is an interesting read, as is William Boyd’s introduction (this contains spoilers though) that helped clear up a couple of questions I was left with at the end.
The novel tells the story of a fifty-something world-weary and cynical spy Alec Leamas who is recruited by his superiors in the British Secret Service for one last mission against the GDR (Communist East Germany) before he can "come in from the cold" (retire and stop the spy games). This is at the height of the Cold War, and agencies on both sides of the Iron Curtain employ morally questionable tactics in pursuit of their own idealistic positions. Leamas, who has spent years heading operations on the Western side of the Wall, is keen to undertake what he thinks is a clever undercover mission of revenge, against a top ranking and ruthless spy on the other side. But as the plot develops, he is less and less sure about the true motivations of his own agency, and about whom he can and cannot trust.
Le Carre writes about technical aspects of the world of espionage without over explaining things, he trusts you to figure it out. He also does not portray this world as one filled with excitement or glamour but paints a darker, more realistic, picture - a world where individuals and organisations constantly make morally ambiguous decisions, and it is simply an accepted fact that innocent people will get hurt in service of the so called 'larger cause’.
Engrossing read, the spy master at his best.