BETTY'S BOOK REVIEWS

NON-FICTION

The Sims: Prima's Official Strategy Guide by Rick Barba. The Sims, in case you missed the hype, is the latest game from Maxis, the makers of SimCity and a slew of other such simulation games. The Sims offers you a chance to play god to an entire neighborhood full of simulated people of your creation: making sure they take good care of themselves (or not, if you're inclined to be a cruel deity), monitoring their relationships and their careers, building and furnishing their homes…  It's an unbelievably addictive game, and, yes, I got so involved in it  that I felt the burning desire to go out and buy the strategy guide.  This book doesn't give you tips for "winning the game," of course, as this simply isn't one of those games where "winning" is even a relevant concept.  It does, however, offer advice on how to take care of your Sims (that is, your simulated people) most effectively, reveal some cheat codes (some of which are much more useful than others), and provide a great many tips (many of them exceedingly sadistic and underhanded!) on how to make your Sims a big bundle of money as quickly as possible.  It also goes into a lot of detail about specific aspects of the game, with tables cataloging things like how specific objects will affect your Sims' mood levels, or the details of each of the career levels (which I found particularly helpful, as I have a great deal of trouble remembering what hours my individual Sims are supposed to be working).  It also goes into a fair amount of the mathematical background to the game's workings.  This isn't bound to appeal to everybody, of course (and the author strongly urges you to skip those sections if numbers make your eyes glaze over), but I found it to be among the most interesting parts of the book.  The apparent sophistication of the game – the way it manages to give you the feeling that these moving collections of pixels really are living things with needs and desires – really impresses me, and it was nice to have a bit of a peek behind the scenes, so to speak.  (And, honestly, the math was pretty simple and very clearly explained. You don't have to be a rocket scientist to follow it.)  This book is meant to take up where the game manual leaves off (though it does also repeat a few things that are covered in the manual).  If you're as hopelessly addicted to this game as I am, and if you've already read the manual and want to know the things it doesn't tell you, the Official Strategy Guide is probably worth buying.  B+

The Origin of the Universe by John D. Barrow. Better than some books I've read on the subject, worse than others. This is a very short book, and the author throws ideas at you in an almost too-rapid succession without going very deeply into most of them. On the other hand, it does have the advantage of being written in nice, plain language and thus being much more accessible than many books on cosmology. B

Science and Human Values by J. Bronowski examines science as a creative process not fundamentally different from the arts and humanities, and explores the relationship between science and the evolution of societal values, concluding that science "demands and forms" a society which values independence, originality and human freedom. Well-reasoned, and more readable than it sounds. A

Life's Little Instruction Book by H. Jackson Brown, Jr. is a collection of 511 "suggestions, observations, and reminders on how to live a happy life." This one was a Christmas present; it's not the sort of thing I would have bought, myself. A lot of the advice in here seems kind of trite ("Take time to smell the roses"), or kind of pointless ("Don't leave a ring in the bathtub"). A lot of it is good advice, but of the easier-said-than-done variety ("Live your life so that your epitaph could read 'no regrets'"). In general, though, it' was pretty much a harmless 15-minute read. The only thing that really bugged me about it was its... bubbliness ("When you arrive in the morning, let the first thing you say brighten everyone's day." -- I'm not sure this is the person I want to be...). C

The Baby Train and Other Lusty Urban Legends by Jan Harold Brunvand. Urban legends are those friend-of-a-friend stories that get passed around so persistently from person to person, usually being told (and often believed) as true stories. (You know, like the one about the old lady who put her poodle in the microwave to dry it off -- and it exploded!) Brunvand writes a newspaper column about the things, and this book (the latest in a series) consists of a collection of his columns. There's something really interesting about the way that these stories pop up and evolve, and many of the stories are worth reading in and of themselves. Some of them are amusing, others quite shocking. B+

Made in America: An Informal History of the English Language in the United States by Bill Bryson.  Despite that reassuring word "informal" in the title, this perhaps sounds as if it should be a dull, dry, boring sort of book.  Happily, nothing could be further from the truth.  Bryson's writing is lively, witty, and full of amusing historical anecdotes.  This is, in fact, as much a history of the US itself as it is of American English since, as Bryson points out, the two are inextricably intertwined.  And that history, as Bryson presents it, is fascinating (enough so to make me wonder how my high school history teachers ever managed to make such wonderful material seem so incredibly dull).  Also to his credit, Bryson avoid the trap that so many writers of history and science popularizations fall into of making things seem much more clear-cut and certain than they really are.  When the truth of a historical incident is uncertain, or the origins of a particular phrase controversial, Bryson cheerfully admits it.  In fact, he seems to take great delight in pointing out these little historical and linguistic mysteries (such as the fact that no one today knows where on Earth the Oreo cookie got its name).  All in all, a fun, informative book.  Definitely recommended. A

Neither Here Nor There: Travels in Europe by Bill Bryson:  I will never understand how Bill Bryson does what he does.  I mean, consider this scenario:  Bill goes to some godforsaken little town on the extreme Arctic end of Norway to see the Northern Lights.  They fail to appear.  He hangs around for a week with absolutely nothing to do but sit around in his hotel room clipping his toenails.  Finally, the Lights show up.  They're cool.  The next day, Bill gets the hell out.  That's pretty much a summary of the first chapter of Neither Here Nor There, and there is no way that this should be remotely interesting to anybody.  And yet, by some bizarre magic that I really wish I understood, Bryson manages to turn even this into a tremendously entertaining, even compelling read.  Not only that, but he manages to seriously make you wish you could actually be there watching him clip his toenails.  This guy could make a trip to the 7-11 for some beef jerky and a slushy into a fascinating piece of travel writing.  I am in awe of him. A

How to Write Science Fiction and Fantasy by Orson Scott Card. Solid, practical advice on things like what a science fiction audience expects out of a book, how to create a believable alien world without getting bogged down in exposition, how to handle your finances, and so on. Not that I'm likely to use much of that (particularly the finances part) -- I haven't ever been really terribly serious about writing, myself -- but I found much of this interesting even from a reader's point of view. Card makes some very good points. A

Wide Awake at 3:00 AM: By Choice or by Chance? by Richard M. Coleman is a book about sleep (or, sometimes, the lack thereof).  I first encountered this book seven or eight years ago when I was working at the campus library.  I checked it out then because I was rather interested in the theoretical aspects of sleep research, the Big Questions like "Why do we need to sleep?" and "What is the function of dreaming?" (questions which, it turns out, we still don't have any good answers for).  But what I remembered most from the book was the chapter on shiftwork.  I remember reading the descriptions of various rotating shifts and all their various accompanying problems and thinking "Ye gods, how could anyone live like that?"  Well, here I am a few years down the road and a shiftworker myself...  So when I saw the book recently at a used bookstore, I just had to pick it up.  The chapter on shiftwork is pretty good, actually.  Among other things, it's got a discussion on the history of shiftwork which I thought was pretty interesting.  Besides shiftwork and the unanswered Big Questions, the book also contains material about what sleep researchers do, what goes on in our brains when we're sleeping, jet lag, sleep disorders (such as insomnia, narcolepsy and sleep apnea), and lots of discussion about our natural biological clocks.  It's very clearly written and contains a nice mix of scientific findings, theoretical speculation, and practical advice.  B+

River Out of Eden: A Darwinian View of Life by Richard Dawkins. Any book on evolution, of course, faces the touchy subject of religion, and Dawkins does not skirt around the subject, nor does he pull his punches; his view of life and evolution as purely material processes is very clear. I happen to generally agree with this view, myself, but his continual repetition of sentiments along the lines of "now, really, isn't this much cooler than that old Garden of Eden myth?" did become a bit annoying to me (and, of course, are unlikely to convince anybody). It would be truly unfortunate, though, if that were to put people off of this book, because it really is a wonderful exposition of the more easily misunderstood aspects of evolutionary theory. (It certainly straightened out my misconceptions on the "mitochondrial Eve" theory, for example.) Dawkins' great strength here is his imaginative and very clear use of examples and analogies to explicate otherwise potentially confusing concepts. I found this book intellectually exciting in a way that few science popularizations are to me these days. A

Guns, Germs, and Steel: The Fates of Human Societies by Jared Diamond poses the interesting question: Why did some human societies develop technology, literacy and the concept of world conquest while others were still using stone tools and living in small bands? Why did the Spaniards conquer the Inca, and not the other way around? What made the difference? Traditionally, these questions have often been met with the obvious, racist answer that the difference must be in the people themselves: that certain groups are just naturally superior, others naturally "backwards." Diamond, however, refutes this categorically, maintaining instead that the real reason lies not with people themselves, but with their environments. In particular, he argues, cultures that got a head start on farming had a tremendous advantage over those who didn't... and so cultures developing in places with few or no easily domesticated wild plants and animals, and with geographic barriers to the importation of already-domesticated plants and animals from elsewhere, ended up at a serious disadvantage. Diamond's logic is very convincing, and his writing is clear and easy to follow, though I wouldn't exactly call it "lively": his tendency to reiterate each of his points over and over sometimes bogs the book down a bit. But this is definitely the book to pick up if you're interested in a detailed, well-researched answer to those questions. B+

ASPCA Complete Cat Care Manual by Andrew Edney, B.V.M. Now that there's a feline in my life again, this seemed like a pretty good thing to read. There is one kind of annoying thing about this particular book: it practically screams out "Look! I'm illustrated!" For instance, next to a (very short) paragraph comparing the relative merits of cats and dogs as pets, we have a picture of a couple of puppies, with a line pointing from it to the caption "Dogs are more demanding pets than cats." Was this photo really necessary? In fact, the first couple of chapters, about such things as the domestication of cats, choosing a kitten, training a cat, etc., are so minimal (except where pictures are concerned, of course) as to not be very useful. The illustration-intensive style comes in a lot handier, though, when they start telling you about really practical things -- like how to groom your cat -- which are probably best explained visually. And the chapters relating to cat health, including a first aid guide, a discussion of feline diseases, and a symptom chart to help determine what's wrong with your cat, are very good and well-presented. I'd say the book is probably worth it for those sections alone, though if you're genuinely interested in things like the history of the cat (or even how to get your cat to walk on a leash), this isn't the best place to look. B

Word Freak by Stefan Fatsis takes us into the tense, exciting competitive world of... tournament Scrabble.  Yes, you read that right.  Scrabble.  There's no way this should be all that interesting, even to people, like myself, who grew up playing and enjoying the game.  And yet, Fatsis' tale of how he showed up to cover a Scrabble tournament as a journalist and ended up "going native" and becoming totally obsessed with a board game is weirdly compelling.  Turns out the Scrabble scene is a world populated with eccentric personalities and comes complete with its own triumphs, tragedies, controversies, and scandals.  Read about the championship player who got himself dangerously strung out on "smart drugs," or the guy who basically compiled most of the Scrabble dictionary (on his own, for fun) and never got any credit for it, or the fellow who claims he can "manifest" his desired tiles through the power of positive thinking (at least when his "energy" isn't "blocked"), or...  Well, believe me, you couldn't make some of this stuff up.  The weirdest thing is that, after a while, I found that I was actually starting to get worked up over Fatsis' descriptions of his games, the old adrenaline starting to pump in the way I imagine happens to sports fans during exciting matches.  It's like, "Yeah, he's going for the triple word score!  And the other guy's challenging!  It's good!  Yes!  SCORE!"  This is actually a little disturbing.  But definitely entertaining.  And I learned a lot of new words, too.  Anybody wanna play Scrabble? A-

The Tipping Point: How Little Things Can Make a Big Difference by Malcolm Gladwell describes how ideas, fads, behaviors and so on spread from person to person to reach "epidemic" proportions.  Gladwell uses a wide variety of different examples to illustrate this: from the marketing of shoes, to the variations in New York City's crime rate, to the effect of Sesame Street on literacy.  His thesis is that all of all of these things (and many more) have in common the property of being based on ideas that spread from person to person just as diseases spread, and he concentrates on the factors that make one idea blossom into a full-blown epidemic where another simply peters out.  Gladwell makes a big deal out of how revolutionary and extraordinary the concepts involved here are, which strikes me as just a little odd, because most of them were already pretty familiar to me.  The idea that some phenomena tend to reach a critical "tipping point" where they change very rapidly in a very short time is a familiar one from mathematics (there's even a name for the branch of mathematics dealing with this: "catastrophe theory"), and the notion of ideas spreading like viruses -- better known as  "meme theory" --  has received a great deal of attention in recent years.  Still, whether the ideas in this book are shockingly new and revolutionary or not, they are extremely interesting.  Gladwell's examples are very clear (and sometimes quite interesting in themselves), and his writing is lucid and engaging, making this a highly enjoyable read. A-

Questioning the Millennium: A Rationalist's Guide to a Precisely Arbitrary Countdown by Stephen Jay Gould. Gould, best known for his essays on evolutionary biology, this time turns his attention to that calendrical artifact that somehow looms so large in our consciousness: the millennium. The book is divided into three main sections. In the first, Gould tackles the historical question of how a Christian term for the coming thousand-year reign of Christ on Earth came to be used for a simple secular thousand-year period, especially one between years ending in "000."  In Part Two, Gould addresses the surprisingly controversial issue of whether the new millennium begins on Jan. 1, 2000 or on Jan 1, 2001. (Gould's conclusion: there are equally valid arguments for both, and it's all pretty arbitrary anyway, so celebrate when you like.) Part Three briefly tackles the history of calendars in our culture and others, explaining the reason for leap years and delving into the mathematical issue of how to calculate days of the week for different years. The book is very small (less than 200 pages, counting the index), and a different version of Part 2 was originally published as an essay in Gould's earlier book Dinosaur in a Haystack... so those who've already read that volume may legitimately question whether they've gotten their money's worth in this one. For others who find this issue of interest, though, this is a nice, readable little book that is probably worth reading for that 2000 vs. 2001 discussion alone. B

A Student's Guide to UNIX by Harley Hahn. Well, computer books may be a bit dull to review... This one's definitely worthwhile, though. If you at some point find that you want or need to work with UNIX, but you haven't got much experience with it, try checking out this book. It's very clearly written. It dosen't assume you already known anything, but at the same time it manages to avoid insulting your intelligence. It's got handy reference lists in case you forget something. And it even shows you the cool stuff, like how to get at the games, if your system has them... Although it's aimed primarily at students, it's a useful reference for any UNIX beginner. A

For All Mankind by Harry Hurt III is a 1988 book on the Apollo space program.  The book is somewhat poorly organized and not the most well-written of works, but, unfortunately, those are the least of its problems.  It's also riddled with errors: I recognized at least three in the first 50 pages alone.  For one thing, Hurt displays a profound ignorance of physics, from his nonsensical one-sentence description of the workings of a rocket, to his use of incorrect units for pressure, to his obvious failure to understand the difference between mass and weight.  (Ignorance on these matters is, sadly, entirely understandable.  Not having his manuscript checked over by someone who'd at least taken a high school physics class is not.)  Other errors are merely sloppy, such as Hurt's gross misspelling of the name of the star Sirius, something which could have been checked and corrected in a few minutes by consulting  any of a number of reference books.  And I spotted at least one "fact" that was flat-out wrong: Hurt gives the number of John Glenn's orbits in the Friendship 7 capsule as five, rather than the actual three.  That may be a fairly trivial error, but in my opinion, it's absolutely unforgivable in a book such as this.  Things do improve somewhat once Hurt actually gets to taking about the Apollo flights (which he does largely by simply quoting things the astronauts themselves have written in their own books), but if I -- a knowledgeable by by no means expert layman -- caught that many mistakes, how many more equally egregious errors might there be in here that I didn't spot?  I'm not sure you can trust much of anything in this book without first confirming it elsewhere, and for that reason I can not in good conscience recommend it, or give it a decent grade.  The book is almost certainly (and deservedly) out of print -- I got my copy at a Friends of the Library sale -- but should you happen to come across it, be warned: this is far from the best book on the subject to pick up.  (And if anyone is interested in which books on the subject are worth picking up, I'd be more than happy to recommend some.)  D+

The God Particle by Leon Lederman (with Dick Teresi) examines the search for the fundamental stuff of which the universe is made, from the speculations of the ancient Greeks to the most cutting-edge modern theories. (Well, cutting-edge, anyway, for 1993 when the book was published... Close enough, for the most part; the only part of the book that's really been invalidated since is Lederman's optimistic predictions about the future of particle physics with the advent of the Superconducting Supercollider, whose construction had already begun in '93, but was later halted when, unforgivably, its funding was revoked. But I digress...) Lederman is a Nobel Prize winner, and former director of Fermilab (the Fermi National Accelerator Laboratory), so it comes as no surprise that he knows his subject matter. Slightly more surprising -- and tremendously gratifying -- is the fact that he also has the ability to communicate it clearly and entertainingly to the layman... a rare and often underestimated skill. He avoids using anything but an absolute minimum of mathematics, and this book should be possible for any sufficiently dedicated general reader to follow -- even one who's had no physics or mathematical education at all. But even the clarity with which this is written isn't the most surprising thing about it. The most surprising thing about it is that it's funny. Lederman has quite a sense of humor, and the book is full of silly jokes, witty asides, and humorous turns of phrase, all of which make the book (at times, anyway) amazingly fun to read, and which serve to make the (admittedly rather daunting) subject matter all the more accessible and interesting. If you've got any interest at all in reading a book about particle physics (or, equivalently, about what the universe around you is really made of), you could do a lot worse than to pick this one up. A

Lost Moon: The Perilous Voyage of Apollo 13 by Jim Lovell and Jeffrey Kluger (re-released after the movie came out under the title Apollo 13). Like Moon Shot (reviewed below) this book is written in third person and has sort of a fiction-y (or at least a dramatic) feel to it. Unlike Moon Shot , though, it's not full of exclamation points and gosh-wow expressions. But it doesn't need them; the story is gripping enough by itself -- even told in plain, matter-of-fact language. In fact, I was particularly impressed by the smooth way the authors managed to explain the myriad technical details without interrupting the tension-filled flow of the story itself. The whole thing manages to be entertaining, informative, and inspirational all at once. A

The Vampire Book: The Encyclopedia of the Undead by J. Gordon Melton. Everything you always wanted to know about vampires but were (understandably!) afraid to ask. Covers vampires in folklore, TV & film, literature, history, music... you name it. Also contains an extensive bibliography of vampire novels, a list of "vampire resources" (yes, there is a Count Dracula Fan Club), and a complete listing of vampire movies (including even obscure foreign films). Very comprehensive. A

The Ring of Truth: An Inquiry Into How We Know What We Know by Philip and Phylis Morrison . One of the better science popularizations I've come across, not least of all because it makes clear the important point (all too poorly understood by most people, I think) that science is not a collection of facts, but rather a process of finding things out. This book does a wonderful job of relating important scientific principles to everyday experience, presenting simple and easily-understood experiments (many of which you could easily do in your own home), examples and analogies. Pretty painless, even for those who never quite "got" science in school, and yet still interesting for those of us who did.  Nice pictures, too. A

Time Machines: Time Travel in Physics, Metaphysics, and Science Fiction by Paul J. Nahin. Time travel enthusiast that I am, I found this book quite exciting. Some of the actual physics, despite Nahin's intentions, isn't really as clear to the layman as it could be (the technical notes in the back of the book are almost essential, but most of them require a fair bit of math), but the discussions of the conceptions of the nature of time in philosophy and theology are well-presented and quite fascinating. There's also a good discussion of time travel paradoxes and their possible solutions -- Nahin obviously has a favorite (and sensible) solution, though I think he's almost a bit too adamant about it in places. He's a bit more optimistic about the possibility of time travel than I tend to be, but it was very interesting to see someone else's discussion of some issues I'd spent so much time contemplating myself (I wrote a term paper on time travel once for an English class in college, and ended up spending a lot of time thinking about paradoxes and such until my brain hurt). A must-read for the true time-travel junky. A

Writing Science Fiction and Fantasy Television by Joe Nazzaro consists of a series of interviews with the writers and creators of Farscape, The X-Files, Mutant X, Doctor Who, Lexx, Dark Angel, various Star Treks, Neverwhere, Stargate SG-1, Red Dwarf, Buffy and Angel, Babylon 5, Xena and Hercules, and Andromeda.  And if you're a fan of any of those shows, or if you're just interested in how television in general and genre television in particular gets made, it's definitely worth checking out.  I found every single one of these interviews interesting, even the ones for shows that I'd never seen. Nazzaro asks intelligent questions and gets thoughtful, in-depth answers.  He also helpfully provides nice little sidebars giving additional information about other shows, people, or issues that get mentioned in the interviews.  A

Woe Is I: The Grammarphobe's Guide to Better English in Plain English by Patricia T. O'Conner is a guide for all of us who occasionally get a little perplexed by the question of where to put our commas, apostrophes, or quotation marks...  Which is probably pretty much all of us.  It's very clearly written, and it manages to avoid getting too dull and technical without ever insulting the reader's intelligence.  O'Conner explains the "correct" way to do things when you want your writing to be at its most formal, while freely acknowledging that not all the rules need be followed in less formal situations.  (And she distinguishes clearly between the ones you should follow all the time in order to make yourself clearly understood and the ones that are dispensable.)  She also, rather refreshingly, denounces those ridiculous and arbitrary rules that were drummed into us all as children, such as the ones about split infinitives and dangling prepositions.  According to O'Conner, there's absolutely nothing wrong with either one of these -- which is something I've always maintained, but it is reassuring to have a grammar book back me up on it!  I  think this is a book that will be useful to anyone who writes, in any capacity.  Personally, I found the section on frequently confused words particularly helpful.  Yes, I already knew the difference between "imply" and "infer," but I admit to frequently having trouble with "farther" and "further," and I simply didn't know the difference between "imminent" and "immanent" at all.  Do you?  A

The Worst-Case Scenario Survival Handbook by Joshua Piven and David Borgenicht.  This fun little volume could basically be considered a guidebook for action heroes.  (In fact, I first encountered it when the GameMaster for an RPG I'm playing in showed up with a copy, and it was immediately clear that this was just about the perfect reference for an action-adventure game.  Needless to say, I then had to pick up my own copy.  It simply won't do for the GM to have that kind of an advantage!)  What does this book tell you how to do?  Hell, what doesn't it tell you how to do!  Wrestle an alligator, maneuver on top of a moving train, hot-wire a car, land a plane…  Of course, I have no intention of doing most of these things in real life, and reading a couple of pages is not going to make you an expert in any of this stuff, no matter how clearly written and accurate it is.  (Hey, you can just imagine the disclaimers in this thing!)  But it is a lot of fun to read, and along with all the wild action-hero stunts, there is a fair amount of advice on dealing with situations that us normal people might actually encounter: a shark attack, a sinking car, snakebite… A

Biblioholism: The Literary Addiction by Tom Raabe. I have to admit it: I have a serious case of this book's title affliction. This month alone, I've bought 39 books and read only sixteen. Earlier this year I read my 1000th book (and that's counting only ones I own, not all the books I read from the library in my youth). I've got some 300+ unread books sitting in my bedroom, all crying for me to read them next. So you can imagine that this particular volume called to me especially. Thing is, I'm not sure whether reading it has left me feeling heartened because I'm nowhere near as bad as some of the people mentioned therein (we're talking people who've bought out the contents of entire bookstores, here) or frightened because it's given me a glimpse of how far into the book-buying addiction I have yet to fall. In any case, though, I did find it humorous and, in places, almost disturbingly insightful. If you're the sort of person who can answer "yes" to questions like "Are you unable to walk through a mall without stopping at a bookstore?" and "Have you ever bought the same book twice without knowing it?", then you're likely to appreciate it, too. If not... well, then, you probably just wouldn't understand. A-

Windows 98 for Dummies by Andy Rathbone.  Since my new computer came with Windows 98, and since I haven't used any version of Windows since 3.1 (and have very little experience with that), I thought it might be handy to pick up a book that would show me some of the ins and outs, maybe teach me some of the less obvious tricks.  Unfortunately, this turns out not to be quite the book I was looking for.  It really is written for “dummies,” or, more accurately, for people who have no experience with Windows (or with computers in general) at all.  It pretty much starts out with instructions on how to click the mouse buttons and goes on from there.  It did have one or two pieces of information that I found useful, but for the most part it only covered stuff that I already knew about, or that I’d easily figured out on my own simply by playing around with Windows for a little while.  Apparently the more “advanced” stuff – the things I would doubtless have found useful, including most of the details about how Windows 98 works with the internet – is all in More Windows 98 for Dummies, which is probably what I should have bought in the first place.  So, my recommendation is: if you’re totally unfamiliar with Windows software and very inexperienced with (or perhaps even a little intimidated by) computers, this book will probably be extremely helpful.  If you already know how to double-click the mouse, you’re probably better off saving your money. B

Great Mambo Chicken & the Transhuman Condition: Science Slightly Over the Edge by Ed Regis starts out with such relatively mundane topics as private-enterprise space programs, cryonics (freezing dead people), and space-colony enthusiasts. From there it goes off onto the wonders of nanotechnology, and thence to the really out-there stuff, like downloading human minds into computers and the far-future possibilities for completely re-engineering the solar system, or even the entire universe. The book's somewhat disjointed structure (it sometimes changes subjects in mid-story for no especially good reason) and the author's artificially breezy, slangy style can get a little annoying (especially in the earlier chapters), but the subject matter itself is certainly fascinating. Regardless of what you might think about the plausibility -- or even the desirability -- of such schemes as taking the sun apart for its raw materials, or planning a big party for our noncorporeal, no-longer-human intellects to get together and watch the last proton decay at the end of the universe, you've got to admit that it's seriously mind-blowing stuff. B

A Physicist's Guide to Skepticism by Milton A. Rothman. The author attempts to denounce various claims of the paranormal (as well as other issues, such as UFO's) by exploring what current scientific knowledge has to say about what is and is not possible in the real world (and he makes the case that scientific knowledge is adequate to make some pretty strong statements on the subject). Personally, I think he argues a bit too strenuously. I sympathize with his aims, namely to replace people's misguided beliefs in unscientific phenomena with an understanding of the scientific facts (and I can't argue with his advice not to invest in anybody's perpetual motion machine), but I think that he often tends to swing a bit too far in the opposite direction, almost implying that anything not currently known to or understood by science is unworthy of consideration. Still, he argues pretty well, and the book is interesting reading simply for its discussion of the current state of scientific knowledge (and it's got a pretty good section on some of the weirder aspects of quantum physics). One word of warning, though: like so many books by physicists supposedly written for "the layman," this one can be difficult going for someone who hasn't had at least high school physics. B

The Demon-Haunted World: Science as a Candle in the Dark by Carl Sagan. In the first half of this book, Sagan examines such purported phenomena as alien abductions and faith healing, and attempts to provide rational explanations for them and to encourage critical thinking about them. The second half of the book discusses scientific skepticism, its place in society, and its relationship to religion, education and the media. Sagan makes some excellent points, and I happen to agree with just about everything he says (especially his call for better science education in the US), but I do wonder a bit about how useful this book really is, since it seems to me that Sagan is almost exclusively preaching to the converted. Although Sagan tries very hard to be sympathetic rather than condescending toward those who hold the psuedoscientific beliefs he examines in the earlier parts of the book, he doesn't consistently succeed... Meaning that those who hold these beliefs dear (assuming they are even inclined to pick up the book in the first place) are, it seems to me, quite likely to put it down in disgust before they even get to the second half. So, although I certainly found it worthwhile reading, I think the publication of this book still leaves open the important niche it was trying to fill: that of a popular book on scientific thinking written so as to appeal to the people who could benefit from it most. B

Pale Blue Dot: A Vision of the Human Future in Space by Carl Sagan. OK, OK... I gotta admit it. I've got a soft spot in my heart for Carl Sagan. Sure, he's easy to make fun of... but he's also very good at evoking that elusive emotion called "sense of wonder," and reading Cosmos in the seventh grade really gave me a deep appreciation for what a fundamentally neat place the universe is. It probably even had something to do with my decision to make astrophysics my field of study. So, heck, I decided to read his new book. Pale Blue Dot is a little bit different in intent that Cosmos . It still oozes with Sagan's extreme enthusiasm for his job, and for the universe in general. It's stil full of interesting facts (including probably the most up-to-date information on planetary science available at the time). And it's still got lots and lots of great pictures (quite possibly the book's most attractive feature, in my opinion). But Sagan's goal here is not simply to inform and inspire. This time, he's offering some pretty firm opinions on a variety of issues concerning the human past, present and future: the conflict between religious dogma and scientific enquiry, the questions of whether we should spend the money to send a manned mission to Mars and whether humanity can be trusted with asteroid-deflection technology, and the value of continuing the SETI (Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence) program. Some of his conclusions may be a bit surprising... especially his very conservative approach to the Mars-mission question. But whether you agree with him or not, it's still a pretty interesting book -- if only because it looks so good. B+

A Primate's Memoir by Robert M. Sapolsky is an account of the author's experiences in Africa, studying baboons for his research on how social standing in primates affects their stress levels (and thus, presumably, their health).  It's an incredibly engaging book: lively and well written.  Sapolsky seems to have an endless supply of anecdotes and observations about both humans and baboons, some of them hysterically funny, some of them extremely touching and poignant.  I laughed out loud many times while reading this, and at one memorable point I actually kind of teared up.  Definitely recommended, even if you don't think you're remotely interested in baboons.  A

Laboratory Earth: The Planetary Gamble We Can't Afford to Lose by Stephen H. Schneider, Ph.D. deals with the potential effects of human activity on the global environment, focusing particularly on greenhouse gasses and their relationship to the world's climate.  Schneider begins with a discussion of the changes in the planetary climate in the past and how we know about them, goes on to talk about computer models and their uses and limitations in predicting future climate changes, and winds up by discussing the implications of it all for economic and political policy-making.  Schneider is very clear about what things Earth scientists know with a high degree of certainty and how much of their predictions are simply educated guesses.  He repeatedly emphasizes the fact that when scientists in the field make predictions they are dealing in probabilities, not certainties, but that those probabilities themselves are fairly widely agreed upon and can and should serve as the basis for rational environmental policy-making.  Schneider's balanced and practical approach to this controversial issue is quite refreshing, and I think he makes clear a number of points that it is surely vital for anyone confronting the issue to understand.  I do, however, wish the writing here were a little better in spots.  Schneider himself admits in the introduction that he had great difficulty keeping the book's length down to the publisher's requirements (this is one of Basic book's "Science Masters" series, which consists of short books on scientific topics for the general public), and in places it does show. B

Ciao, America! by Beppe Severgnini.  Severgnini is an Italian journalist who spent a year living in the United States (specifically, Washington, D.C.) and writing up his observations on American culture and behavior.  The result is a pleasantly-written, entertaining look at our society from an outsider's perspective.  B+ 

Moon Shot by Alan Shepard, Deke Slayton, Jay Barbree and Howard Benedict tells the story of the manned space program up through the end of the Apollo flights. Shepard and Slayton were astronauts, and Barbree and Benedict are journalists who apparently have done a lot of writing about the space program. So, what I expected of this book was a first-person, factual account. Well, the facts were certainly there. In fact, although this isn't the first history of the space race I've read, by far, there were lots of interesting stories I hadn't heard before -- some funny (like the tale of how Alan Shepard, after sitting through a 3-hour delay in his Mercury capsule, suddenly realized he really, really had to pee), some tragic (Trivia question: do you know who Vladimir Komarov was? It's a name that should be remembered, but nobody I asked came up with the answer. I certainly didn't recognize the name.), almost all of them interesting. But the style was not at all what I expected. It's written in third-person, mostly from the point of view of the two astronaut co-authors, but occasionally from other folks' as well. It's full of dialog, much of which cannot possibly be verbatim. And it's got 'way too many exclamation points. This style annoyed me for the first few chapters. After that, I didn't care anymore, but I don't know that that had much of anything to do with the book itself. Because the subject was one that, for some reason, never, ever fails to touch me. I could read the driest, most boring account possible on the history of space travel, and still find myself moved almost to the point of tears. It's been known to happen. And Moon Shot was certainly no exception -- especially as I think that, exclamation points and all, it was trying to convey the emotions that the people involved experienced (excitement, frustration, sorrow, triumph) even more than it was trying to provide the "inside facts." The upshot? Well, there may be better-written books on the subject (Michael Collins' Liftoff comes to mind), but this one worked for my anyway. I laughed, I cried, I came away with a bit more understanding than I started with. I doubt it'd do that for everybody, but it succeeded for me. Hard to grade this one, but let's call it a very subjective A-.

Mosquito: A Natural History of Our Most Persistent and Deadly Foe by Andrew Spielman, Sc.D. and Michael D'Antonio.  Yes, it's a book about mosquitoes.  I know, how interesting can that be?  Could there possibly be enough to say about mosquitoes to fill an entire book?  Well, it turns out that, yes, there is, and a lot of it is really fascinating stuff.  Much of the book is devoted to the discussion of mosquito-borne diseases such as malaria, which, it turns out, have played a remarkably important role in world history and are, of course, still quite deadly and dangerous today.  The authors do an excellent job of explaining how these diseases work and the role that mosquitoes play in their transmission, as well as describing the diseases themselves in what is sometimes a rather compellingly gruesome sort of way.  But it also turns out that mosquitoes themselves are surprisingly weird and fascinating little critters.  It's quite clear that Speilman, the entomologist half of the authorial duo, finds them tremendously interesting and exciting, and his enthusiasm is quite infectious.  I will absolutely, positively, never look at a mosquito the same way again.  A

The Cuckoo's Egg by Cliff Stoll tells the true story of astronomer-turned-computer system administrator Stoll, and of how a 75-cent error in his computer system's accounting program eventually led him on the trail of a genuine information-age spy. It probably wouldn't have made good fiction -- for one thing, it's not exactly what you'd call fast-paced; there are long periods during the book where nothing much really happens to advance things. But the fact that it all really happened (and I'm pretty convinced that what's related here is very close to reality -- apparently Stoll kept an incredibly detailed logbook) made it truly fascinating to me. Stoll's perserverence and inginuity are remarkable. On top of it all, he's also a much better writer than most people who set out to write their "true stories," and he manges to explain the technical stuff so that anybody can understand it. A-

The Hidden Life of Dogs by Elizabeth Marshall Thomas. A while back, I read Thomas' The Tribe of Tiger (about cats) and I loved it so much that I sought out her dog book. I found it just a little less enthralling than Tiger (probably because I'm cat people, although I like dogs too), but still a more than worthwhile read. Thomas is an anthropologist by profession, and she approaches dogs and their society just as she would that of a tribe of humans: trying to see them from the inside, on their own terms, by asking the simple question "what do dogs want?" In search of this answer, she closely observes the behavior of her own dogs, with results that are always fascinating and sometimes quite moving. Recommended for anybody who likes dogs or who is interested in animal behavior. A

One Renegade Cell: How Cancer Begins by Robert A. Weinberg.  The origins of cancer -- as this book makes abundantly clear -- are extremely complex.  So it's quite an achievement for Weinberg (himself a prominent cancer researcher) that this book is so clear, lucid, and for the most part, easy to follow and understand.  Part of that, I think, is due to the approach he takes in much of the book of following the chronology of discoveries in cancer research, explaining each new insight into the disease one step at a time.  This approach not only has the virtue of making the workings of cancer itself easier to understand, but also captures some of the intellectual excitement of a true scientific detective story.  For that reason, I'd definitely recommend it not only to those interested in understanding the origins of cancer, but also to anyone who's curious as to how scientists go about researching this sort of complex phenomenon.  It's also very useful in making sense of all the cancer-research headlines we tend to see in newspapers.  It certainly answered my questions, such as: What do researchers mean when they claim to have found a gene for, say, colon cancer?  How is it that some cancers are associated with viruses?  In what way can a predisposition to certain types of cancer be genetic?  The answers to those questions may be complicated, but in my opinion they're also extremely interesting... and they're unquestionably important. A


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