Book Review: The Milky Way Smells of ...

 By Jillian Scudder

• Pub Date: 2024

• Genre: Non-fiction, Astrophysics

• Where I bought this book: Joseph-Beth Bookstore, at Books by the Banks, Cincinnati 

• Why I bought this book: The author talked me into it

• Bookmark used: Astroquizzical, another book by Dr. Scudder   

 ****** 

    When I first asked Dr. Scudder at the Books by the Banks Bookfair which of her books I should buy, she asked me if I wanted serious or silly. Of course, my first response was serious, because I wanted to be that important, consequential guy who respected science.

    But then she talked up the silly book as carefully detailed, even profound, if a bit light-hearted. She said she had fun writing and researching it.

    So I grabbed it, and I'm glad I did. 

    It provides a wealth of information and oddball facts, as well at the significant science behind the details. You want proof? It has 45 pages of notes referencing peer-reviewed papers, most of them published in top-rated scientific journals -- with links to those  original works.

    So while the facts may seem outlandish, they have important scientific bases. 

    For instance, the fact that parts of Pluto are mostly crater-free -- discovered during a New Horizon flyby in 2015 -- was a shocking unknown until then. Astrophysicists assumed that Pluto was covered with up to 40,000 craters up to 30 kilometers wide, because, well, because lots of celestial bodies fly around out there, and they have been known to crash into each other.

    But Pluto, and in particular, the surface of Sputnik Planitia -- that's the heart-shaped feature found on the dwarf planet -- is practically devoid of craters of any size. The current thinking is that some of Pluto's surfaces are newly created by the way nitrogen bubbles up to the colder surface and freezes like icebergs, which erases or covers the craters. 

    Or this: Venus also has few craters. But the current thinking here is different: Volcanoes on Venus regularly erupt, and what is erupted covers up the craters. Thus, parts of the surfaces of both Venus and Pluto are much younger than other parts, but for entirely separate reasons.

    All of this is important, because it helps us better understand our solar system, and the universe, more each day. And, because it's fun to know.

    One more thing: Whenever one reads books by astrophysicists, always read the footnotes. They are complementary to the tale and often amusing, like a smirky, knowing aside from a knowledgeable companion.

    This books is no exception. Dr. Scudder enjoys ragging on her fellow scientists for the way they name the stuff in the universe. Usually, it's boring, like a Very Large Crater. But she notes that one darker section of Pluto was originally named Cthulhu Macula, and in a footnote, explains: "Yes, astronomers are nerds. Charon, Pluto's moon, has a region named Mordor Macula."

    In another section, she talks about how it's difficult to grow anything in Martian regolith because it's considered "highly deleterious to cells." She said she'd rather write something like "Mars is great as long as you don't want anything alive to stay that way," but editors of scientific journals frown on such unscientific language.

    Her footnote reads: "It's too bad. It'd really liven up a paper."

Book Review: The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet

 By Becky Chambers

• Pub Date: 2014

• Where I bought this book: Downbound Books, Cincinnati 

• Why I bought this book: My daughter highly recommends this writer

*******

   About halfway through reading this book, I had emergency gall bladder surgery. I tell you this because while drifting in and out of consciousness during recovery, I starting having some wild and colorful hallucinations, feeling that I was traveling through other dimensions of time and space. 

    It made me sort of leery about returning to the book, but also more appreciative of the images and descriptions in Chambers' writing.

    It's actually a fun book, an exploration of the foibles and frustrations of humans -- and to a larger extent, all sentient beings. It puts them together on a spaceship, The Wayfarer, tasked with punching wormholes to facilitate interspace travel. 

    It forces everyone -- humans, lizard-like beings, and assorted blobs and lobster-like and artificial intelligent beings -- together so that we rethink culture and thoughts and mores and idiosyncrasies.

    But like in all good worlds, love and appreciation of tea is a constant.

    The chapters and adventures are like episodic television, as the crew sets out on a mission to build new pathways through sometime hostile space frontiers, meeting and greeting other worlds and species. It's got science, excitement, danger, and hope for the future.

Book Review: The Three-Body Problem

• Author: Cixin Liu 

• Translator: Ken Liu

• Where I bought this book: The Book Loft, Columbus, Ohio

• Why I bought this book: The title spoke to me, and in retrospect, the cover is cool

*****

     In the end, I think I'm just not smart enough to read this book.

   

    There is some serious science in here, and much of it is over my head, even though I have read and understand the concepts of astrophysics.

    My first concern was chapter 17, which described how a group without access to mechanical computation solved a complicated calculation by building a human computer. Literally. It used 30 million people to stand in for the inner workings: the hardware, the motherboard, and the other elements that mimicked the zero-one method of computer calculation. It sounds fascinating, but I'm not sure I understood how it happened.

    Then, in another section, it works on solving a problem by creating artificial intelligence, which in turn could force a proton to shrink from 11 dimensions to two -- and why three could not work. Again, a brilliant idea in theory, but far above my understanding.

    Like its science, the novel is complicated. It's difficult. It poses existential questions within a closed political system. 

    Now beware of this review. A spoiler alert is coming up. Fair warning -- even though it will be hidden, and you don't have to click on the link.

    Author Liu spends a lot of time introducing the characters and setting the scenes, in many different, confusing ways. The story is set in China, and we know something momentous is going to happen. Something, indeed, is happening, but we don't know what.

    The author -- and his excellent translator, who gives insight into the Chinese mindset at the time of the novel's setting -- provide us with a lot of hints. The three-body problem, perhaps, is a planet system with three stars, Or moons. Or planets. (Understanding how three bodies in space stay in a stable orbit is a pressing problem in physics.) Or it's about earth. Or it's a video games. Or it's aliens. War may be involved. Heck, even religion seems to come into play.

    OK. I can't resist. Spoiler alert    

    Meanwhile, deep in rural China, something else is going on. It's secret, and because we are in the period of the cultural revolution, it's a big secret that people will kill and die for. Or maybe they won't. Like I said, it's a secret.

    If this all sounds very confusing, that's because it is. Complicating matters is that the  characters are Chinese, with Chinese names and backstories. (For a native English reader, with a limited knowledge of the culture and history of China, it's difficult to relate to.) 

    And it jumps around in places and times. It doesn't tell a linear story. We learn about various characters over the spans of their lives.

    

    Still, once you start to figure out who is who and what may be going on, you'll find those characters are an interesting group, and their motives, once revealed, make sense. The story does come together with a (mostly) logical explanation in the end.

    But, of course, it is the first book in a trilogy. So my last question is whether I am smart enough -- or dumb enough -- to delve into the next two.

Book Review: Project Hail Mary

 Project Hail Mary, by Andy Weir

    Weir's third book, like his first two -- The Martian and Artemis -- is quite good.

     But it's a bit over the top. It suffers from the lone white guy savior complex, turns into a buddy movie, and winds up as a lots-of-things-go-wrong-and-oh-no-how-will-we-fix-this-or-save-this-or-save-us-so-we-can-continue-on-our journey? thriller.

   

    OK. It's a lot over the top. But after you catch your breath and finish rolling your eyes, it's still a good read. The plot is compelling. The writing is superb. The dialogue is witty. The science, I am told, is spot on. (And it is. I think I understand time dilation now.)

    We first meet our intrepid hero, Dr. Ryland Grace, as he slowly awakens in a stupor, unaware of where he is or why. Gradually, he figures out he's in a spaceship in a planetary system that does not include earth -- the sun is similar, but not the same. And he's alone. His two  crewmates are dead.

     Uh-oh.

    We learn through his memory flashbacks what happened and why he is there. It seems that something is slowly dimming the Earth's sun, countering the effects of climate change, but then having the potential to bring on global cooling. Quickly. People will die. A lot of people will die. So the Earthlings try to fix it.

    A Dutch scientist, a woman by the name of  Eva Stratt, is put in charge and given ultimate power and authority. She's not afraid to use it. She is the buddy cop equivalent of the guy who doesn't follow the rules, because the rules were made to be broken -- or they don't apply to her. She's the ultimate libertarian, dedicated to her task and whip-smart.

    Her goal? Find a way to save humanity. Eventually, that means a trip to Tau Ceti, a solar system about 12 light years away, which seems to be the closest place humanity can go to find an answer to its existential problem. (It's also a common star system for science-fiction based travelers.) Scientists figure out a way to get there at nearly the speed of light, build a new spaceship for the trip, and blast off.

    We don't see all of this, but learn about it in the memory flashbacks. It's a decent way to round out the exposition phases and give some personality to the minor players. Stratt is a decent character, but eventually we get back to Dr. Grace. Somehow, the middle-school science teacher with a doctorate winds up as an astronaut on the trip. 

    He turns into the ultimate, if  reluctant hero; the clever man everyone admires. I hear tell  Ryan Gosling is going to play him in the movie. I don't know Gosling, but I'd bet he's young, handsome, self-deprecating, and white.

    There's another character in the book, who comes in later, and telling you more would be a major spoiler, so I won't reveal it. Suffice to say it adds a different dimension to the book, and gives Dr, Grace a separate, more personal reason -- instead of just trying to save humanity -- to figure everything out.

    So pick up Hail Mary. It's a fun read. 

Book Review: The End of Everything

The End of Everything, by Katie Mack

    If you learn just one thing about this book, it is this: Read the footnotes.

    Footnotes generally are boring, giving you a citation, notation, or annotation too dull or obscure for the text. Some readers skip them, viewing them as a way to shorten the page.

    But Mack's footnotes are as good as the main text. They are enlightening and witty. Miss one, and you'll miss a lot.

    Take, for instance, the way they liven up an early story she tells about the discovery that proved the existence of the cosmic microwave background. Briefly -- and I hope I get this right -- scientists were setting up an experiment with a microwave detector when they heard a strange humming noise. They could not figure out what it was, and took to blaming a nearby flock of pigeons. They tested that theory with another experiment.* 

    (*Footnote: Sadly, this line of questioning did not end well for the pigeons, who were innocent of all wrongdoing.)

    Eventually, this group of scientists unknowingly found proof of the cosmic microwave background, and won a Nobel Prize in 1978 for their work. Some 41 years later, she says, the goup that first theorized the existence of the background won a Nobel Prize for coming up with the idea.*

    (*Footnote: So maybe there is some justice in the end. Just not for the pigeons.)

     But of course, it's not just the footnotes that make this book such a good read -- it's her knowledge, presentation, and research skills. She is well versed in her subject of cosmology, and what she doesn't know, she counts on the work of those who came before her -- the legendary giants of the astrophysics world and their historic precepts.

    In this book, she sets out to explain how the universe will end. She gets into several theories of eschatology, and uses them to delve deeper into some of the more esoteric theories of physics and astronomy. It's a fun learning experience about the thought experiments and the larger concepts of where we live, how it came to be, and where it might end up.  

   

    And Mack explains it well. She is an excellent writer, and she has a knack for the perfect analogy or metaphor. Astrophysics has difficult concepts, but after reading this book I think I better understand things such as a singularity, the cosmic inflation, the expanding universe, and the fact that the observable universe is just a small part of the whole -- and why that is true.

    That all being said, I must say the book seems to slow down near the end. At some points, Mack turns philosophical, always a danger for a scientist. And she seems to turn from being the knowledgeable teacher to almost a journalist, talking to others and quoting their thoughts and ideas. It does add perspective, but it comes across as a little extra padding.

    But still, where else can you learn about the "quantum bubble of death," also known as vacuum decay,  which is one of the ways this whole universe could end? It's right there alongside the possibilities of the Big Rip and the Big Crunch.

    My preferred band name, however, will always be the Quantum Bubble of Death.

Book Review: Middlegame

Middlegame, by Seanan McGuire

At the start of this strange and wonderful book, Roger Middleton, then a young boy who already is a language expert, refers to the word play in a novel as a "meet-a-for." He explains to his new friend, "It's using a thing that's not true to talk about things that are."

Such is a good description for this novel, a combination of science fiction, fantasy, and perhaps a bit of horror thrown in. It also alludes to a vast array of myths, legends, literature, and science, from the Wizard of Oz to quantum entanglement.

The premise of the book is complicated. A fellow by the name of James Reed -- who leads a band of modern alchemists -- wants to bring out the humanity of something called he Doctrine. What the Doctrine is, or is meant to be, is unclear, although it appears to be a perfection of society.

But in bringing it about, Reed needs a perfect pair of siblings. So he creates several sets of twins, then splits them apart. And by create, I mean literally -- he takes parts of various people to form another human. By doing this, he hopes the twins will manifest into one, and become the embodiment of the doctrine.

One of the twins, in this case, Roger, is a language expert. The second -- Dodger Cheswich -- is a math wizard. (And yes, the names of the twins, dubbed as "cuckoos," always rhyme. Almost.) Together, they represent order and chaos.

The math children will die to defend the language children. Many of them have. Most of them will have no capacity for defending themselves. It isn't part of what they are made of -- and Leigh knows very well what they're made of. She was one of the people who did the making, after all.

McGuire, who sadly was unknown to me before this book,  has had a long and varied career as a writer, artist, and singer. She puts it all to use here.

Often, I found that she mimics the best of Stephen King, one of my favorite authors. This is neither a knock or a comparison. But what I like about King, I enjoyed about this book. McGuire creates a few, solid major characters who are unique and well developed. These characters are the sun of the story, the epicenter of which the rest of the system revolves.

She also describes various secondary and tertiary characters, who despite their lesser story arcs are well defined, complete, and fulfill their roles as either good and evil -- or possibly both, and sometimes changing between the two. Other times, a character is introduced to set part of the story in motion, but she is also given a full life and description.

McGuire is clearly a star in her own right, and an author who I plan to read more of going forward.

Book Review: Icarus

Icarus at the Edge of Time, by Brian Greene

One of my favorite science writers -- a guy who has helped me (somewhat) understand string theory and quantum particles -- has written this gem of a children's book. The wonderful pictures come from NASA.

Of course, he wrote it and I bought it 11 years ago, long after the time it would have been age-appropriate for my girls. But the story intrigued me. This week, I decided to read it again.

It was worth it. 

I've always loved the myth of Icarus. It shows how the hubris of man can be devastating. Hubris lets one live and exceed a dream, but cautions against going too far. It skirts the edge of urging one to stop short of perfection, but warns about the harms that can be caused by going beyond what is meant to be. It says just because we can do something -- or can strive to do something -- doesn't mean it's always best to actually do it. 

"Do you know what Angelica said

"When she heard what you've done?

"She said,

"'You've married an Icarus

"'He has flown too close to the sun.'"

                                     Eliza Hamilton
      Hamilton: An American Musical

In Greene's book, instead of flying too close to the sun, Icarus flies too close to a black hole, forgetting how time slows down near the event horizon. The result shows what hubris has cost this futuristic Icarus, along with showing us how correct Einstein was when he wrote about time and space more than 100 years ago.

It's a brilliant book that showcases a brilliant mind -- in a way that young and old alike can appreciate and understand. And the pictures are extraordinary.

Book Review: Artemis

Artemis, by Andy Weir

I really wanted to like this book -- it's written by the same guy who wrote The Martian, a brilliant novel of science and space. But this time, the setting is in the first colony on the moon, where people live in bubbles built into the dirt near the Apollo landing.

The name of the colony is Artemis -- goddess of the moon and sister to Apollo -- so it fits right into the mythology.

Weir's second novel has some of the same attributes as his first. It's well written; the science is explained well and correctly, without being overbearing, and it has several strong and diverse characters, including the lead -- a woman of color who is young, resilient, and stunningly real. Weir sets up a recognizable, yet unique, lunar culture, society, and economy.

But the book has problems. And those result from the story, which mutates from a wondrous start into a average, normal, and typical (three words meaning the same thing) tale of crime and adventure. Sure, it's enough to keep you reading, but if the novel wasn't set on the moon, it would be a lot less compelling.

Weir introduces us to Jazz, a young woman from Saudi Arabia who grew up mostly on the moon, and considers it her home. She enjoys the freedom she has, but dreams of becoming wealthy in the free-for-all that is the lunar economy. When we meet her, however, she is a poor, petty criminal with lots of intelligence and flaws. Her desire to move ahead often is thwarted by her penchant to break the rules and flout authority.

She soon meets up a customer from her smuggling business -- like Red in  Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption, she's the one who can get you anything -- who is one of the wealthiest men on the moon. He has a proposition for her that could help her achieve her dreams. Of course, it's illegal -- that is, if Artemis had an enforceable legal code.

It's here where the book gets more into its action-adventure mode. But the moon is the star, and the story, while tedious in parts, remains readable.

Book Review: Dark Matter and the Dinosaurs

Dark Matter and the Dinosaurs: The Astounding Interconnectedness of the Universe, by Lisa Randall

If I have this right, this is what this book proposes:

Dark matter, which we know is out there but cannot see, includes some particles that interact, however weakly, with each other. They also might interact with particles included in regular matter. (These particles are called weakly interacting massive particles, or WIMPs. And you think scientists don't have a sense of humor.)

Assuming these dark matter particles interact with regular matter particles, the interactions are really, really small. So small they cannot be measured except on a galactic scale, and even then, only with precise equipment studied by people who know what they are looking for and what they are doing.

Further assuming these particles interact, they could possibly form a small, flat, dark matter disk in the center of the Milky Way. This disk, which remains theoretical, could then interact, however weakly, with our solar system as it revolves through and around the Milky Way. Over a period of years -- again we are talking large scale, so it's over millions of years -- the dark matter disk causes a wobble in the Oort Cloud, which circles around the outer edge of our solar system. That wobble may knock material out of its orbit, pushing it into the sun's gravitational pull, where it heads toward the earth.

Theoretically, this should happen every 30 million to 35 million years or so -- let's put it approximately at every 33 million years. It could be happening now.

Which means that sometime around, say, 66 million years ago, that dark-matter-caused wobble sent some Oort Cloud matter hurtling toward the sun, and such matter struck earth, causing the Cretaceous–Paleogene extinction event, which snuffed out the life of 75 percent of the earth's plants and animals, including -- you guessed it -- the dinosaurs.

Or, to put it in haiku form:

WIMPs in dark matter

Thin disk in Milky Way, then:
Dino extinction

See how all this is connected? At least, it is in theory. And this is what Dr. Randall explains in her well-written and intriguing book. And she explains the science far, far better than I do.

If this kind of stuff interests you, and you want to know more, go out and buy the book.