Publisher:        BBC Books (an imprint of Ebury Publishing)

Published:       2018

ISBN:              9781785943515 (2018 hardback edition)

Pages:              220

Words:            57,000 approx.

Maggie Aderin-Pocock is the bubbly co-presenter of The Sky at Night and the author of a range of books on astronomy for the popular audience including Dr Maggie’s Grand Tour of the Solar System and Star Finder for Beginners.  She is also an MBE and an Honorary Research Associate at University College London.

This very approachable book covers a huge range of topics including the structure of the moon (internal and surface), the on-going controversy about just where the moon came from, the role of the moon in human culture past and present, the history of lunar exploration, and possible human uses for the moon.  In addition, a very clear explanation of just how the moon produces the earth’s tides is given – together with an account of current ideas about the role of the huge tides thought to have been present in the distant past in the first appearance of life. 

Dr Aderin-Pocock’s account of the moon in our culture includes a discussion of the role of eclipses in history – including Thales’s alleged successful prediction of an eclipse during a key battle in the sixth century BC.  Also fascinating is the Ishango bone from about 30,000 BC thought to bear (in the form of scratches) an early lunar calendar and/or (according to some) a very early list of prime numbers.  There’s also a brief account of the ancient Greek Antikythera Mechanism – now generally accepted as a clockwork orrery built in about 87 BC!

The book points out that our moon is the largest in the solar system – when compared in size with its parent planet.  We are told that this gives the moon a key role in stabilising the earth’s axis of rotation which (without that stabilising influence) would be liable to drift to point in some ‘random’ direction – like the rotational axes of some other planets in our system.

Advice is given on optical instruments suitable for amateur study of our only natural satellite.  Also on the matter of astronomical observation, an explanation of the human eye’s ability to cope with a wide range of light levels (‘dark adaptation’) is given – it appears that it’s not just a matter of the varying size of the pupil.

The history of lunar exploration is summarised and a chronological table of US and Soviet missions to the moon (manned and unmanned) is given.  That table makes clear the early lead of the Soviets in lunar exploration, although it’s worth noting that the omission of the US Ranger and Surveyor programmes makes the table as a whole (which, admittedly, doesn’t claim to be exhaustive) a little misleading.

The idea of extracting Helium-3 from the lunar regolith for use as a fuel in fusion reactors is also mentioned. 

Several pages are devoted to the moon as a desirable location for telescopes – of either the optical or radio variety.  The advantages are compelling.  They include the absence of an atmosphere, the absence (on the far side) of radio interference from earth, and the fact that all else being equal (which it is not!) larger telescope could be constructed on the moon that on earth because of the weaker gravity.

Ideas (past and present) for uses of the moon are discussed. A discussion of ideas for lunar colonies is given – including ideas dating back to 1948. Not surprisingly, many of the ideas from that era now seem rather dated – but then, surely, in 1969 it was widely assumed that there would be lunar bases (and, indeed, Martian bases) by now.  The pros and cons of building a colony on the moon are compared with those associated with building a colony on Mars.  As part of that account, three tables of pros and cons are given: one for the moon, one for Mars, and one for the idea of a colony living in a dirigible 50 km above Venus! This third option is not mentioned in the text, but (on the face of it) has some real advantages over the other two.

In summary, this is an informative, entertaining and up to date book.

Publisher:                    Transworld (part of Penguin Random House)

Published:                   2019

ISBN (cased):             9780593077429

ISBN (tpb):                 9780593077436

Pages:                          370

Words:                        120,000 approx.

Prof. Jim Al-Khalili is a well-known physicist, broadcaster, and populariser of science. He is an OBE, a Fellow of the Royal Society, and Professor of Physics and Public Engagement in Science at the University of Surrey.  This is Prof. Al-Khalili’s first novel.

The story begins in October 2039 in Alaska, but switches in the first fifty pages or so between at least half a dozen locations worldwide.

The background (established in those first fifty pages or so) is a world in which it is well-known that the earth’s natural magnetic field is steadily and rapidly (on a timescale of years or decades) weakening.  We are told about the historical (and factually correct) ‘flips’ of the earth’s natural field.  We also learn about some of the likely consequences of the period of weak field involved in such a flip.  Those consequences could be dire for satellites in earth orbit, for living things (including people) exposed to ionising solar radiation because of the weakened field, and for power grids all over the earth.  Nor surprisingly a very worried world is portrayed.

Added to these worrying items of background, we learn of a terrorist group called The Purifiers whose core belief is that mankind in inherently bad and destined in short order to be extinguished either by natural process or by the consequences of human greed.  The political or religious allegiances of The Purifiers are only hinted at.

The book has three main protagonists and the reader sees the story at different times from the viewpoints of all three.  First, we have Sarah Matlin, a British solar physicist. Next, Marc Bruckner, a dark-matter physicist with a failed marriage and a promising career sinking into the past.  Finally, we have Shireen Darvish, an Iranian student and hacker.  Hackers (at least those of Shireen’s stamp) are presented here more as freedom-fighters than as criminals and appear to be known in the world of 2040-ish as ‘cybs’.

Many of the promising new technologies of today have found widespread application in the world of the story.  We have drones serving as taxis, as flying communications hubs and as near-invisible weapons.  We have quantum computers and quantum encryption. Above all we have Artificial Intelligence – entrusted with crucial work such as flying airliners and doing mathematical modelling for problems as crucial as global warming. In addition, this is a world in which global warming has advanced to the point that large parts of London and many other cities have been flooded.

Ignoring a tensely-written prologue which appears to explain the disappearance of the Neanderthals, the story begins with some observations by the characters of anomalous natural events – such as aurorae appearing in the wrong part of the sky.  We then hear (in a pacey few chapters) about a hurricane of unprecedented violence.  Throughout, plausible explanations of how these phenomena could be caused by a weakening geomagnetic field are given.  Only a basic grasp of science is needed to understand these explanations.

On the matter of scientific accuracy, Prof. Al-Khalili asserts in his Acknowledgements that the book describes an alterative world in which ‘no laws of physics’ are violated – and presumably he means none of the laws of physics known in the real world.

Following the aforementioned catalogue of natural disasters, the story proceeds by describing an international effort to cope with the problems arising from the weakening magnetic field.  This leads into a sub-story of scientific deceit and international conspiracy, and to the devising of two schemes for ‘fixing’ the problem.  Both are hugely ambitious.  The solution eventually adopted is barely credible to the present-day mind – but it is science fiction – and risky on a truly global scale.  The Purifiers make several attempts to thwart the planned solution.  Those attempts, and the efforts needed to counter them, are described with nail-biting narrative skill.

The final chapters involve at least two further yet-unimagined technologies and a confrontation between one of the protagonists and the leader of The Purifiers – whose identity might have been guessed by the reader at an early stage.  One other unsatisfactory feature of that final confrontation is that the terrorist leader’s motivation is obscure. He seems too rational and successful to be literally mad, and yet too imaginative to believe that the outcome he is working towards will serve any worthwhile end.

Overall, with that reservation, the novel is a good, tense and scientifically literate thriller.

Publisher:        Transworld Publishers (part of Penguin Random House)

Published:       2019

ISBN:              9780593080399 (2019 hardback edition)

Pages:              131

Words:            26,000 approx.

Ignoring the foreword and the introductions for a moment, this book is a transcript of a conversation between four of the ‘new atheists’ in New York in 2007.  The four in question were Richard Dawkins, Dan Dennett, Sam Harris, and the late Christopher Hitchens.  All four had published and spoken widely on the matter of faith and the relationship between faith and science, and all four were of a firmly atheistic viewpoint. There was therefore undeniably an element of preaching to the converted (no pun intended) and, for that reason, the separate ‘introductions’ written individually by Dawkins, Dennett and Harris are perhaps more informative than the transcript which forms the bulk of the text.  Strangely, no editor is identified. However, it is clear from the acknowledgement that the moving force behind the book is the Richard Dawkins Foundation for Reason and Science, which (we are told) is a division of the Centre for Inquiry – an American non-profit educational organisation.

The book begins with a foreword from Stephen Fry.  He reminds us of some of the dead ends that discussions of faith can lead into and of some of the challenges faced by those making religious claims (in particular, the ‘who created God, then?’ challenge).  Fry goes on to give a potted summary of the relevant facts surrounding the four contributors to the original conversation.

Next, there are separate brief introductions from the three surviving contributors in the order Dawkins (who has most to say be far by way of introduction), Dennett and Harris. 

Under the heading The Hubris of Religion, Dawkins takes the opportunity to develop new points which he might bring up if it were possible to bring the same four intellectuals together today.  As part of this he takes the opportunity to point out the apparent illogicality of various aspects of the organised religions.  More seriously, Dawkins refers to the ‘intellectual courage’ required by the atheist viewpoint.  Part of what he means by this is the strength of mind needed to reject apparently simple and emotionally appealing explanations for the organised complexity of livings things and of the universe and to accept, instead, scientific explanations firmly supported by evidence.

Dennett’s introduction (under the heading Letting the Neighbours Know) includes a summary of the differences of outlook between the four contributors here.  One of the issues which highlights these differences is the question of whether (assuming the atheist viewpoint for the moment) an effort should be made to preserve the beneficial aspects of religions. Dennett takes that view that such an effort should be made, while Dawkins appears to feel that only the artistic creations of religion are worth preserving.

Early on in the conversation reported, attention turns to what Dawkins calls the ‘hurt-feelings card’.  This (as he sees it) is the response of some people of faith to challenges to their basic beliefs.  He implies (and none of the others seriously challenges the view) that such people use the ‘right to be offended’ which society seems to afford them in ways which amount to arguing unfairly.  No good counterstrategy is suggested.

A related issue discussed by the four is that of hubris and humility.  Dennett, for example, complains of ‘people of breath-taking arrogance’ urging him (in the context of his philosophical work on religion) to adopt greater humility.  There is general (and totally unsurprising) agreement that Dennett has a good point.

Later in the conversation, the question of whether each of the participants would like to see faith completely eradicated (by argument) is raised. Hitchens asserts that he would not like to see that! When probed on that, it emerges that he sees some benefit in the on-going argument itself and that he would be sad to see it end. There is general agreement between the four that the artistic creations arising from religion should not be eradicated.

Overall, this slim volume provides a good summary of the viewpoints (which are not all the same) of four of the key intellectuals of our times on matters of religion and faith.  As such, it can be seen as an efficient way of learning about the key arguments around those differences.  What the book certainly doesn’t offer is any sort of debate between the theist and atheist sides of the religion debate.  This is no surprise in the context.

Publisher:        Hodder & Stoughton Ltd

Published:       2018

ISBN:              978 1 473 66232 2 (Kindle edition)

Pages:              448 (paperback edition)

Words:            130,000 approx.

This is the first of the two books published thus far in the Frances Gorges trilogy series.  Tracy Borman is a former history lecturer at the University of Hull and currently a colleague of Lucy Worsley as Joint Chief Curator of Historic Royal Palaces.  This is her debut novel.  The novel begins in the last hours or minutes of the reign of Elizabeth I in 1603 and is set in the first few years of the reign of her witch-obsessed successor James I. 

Frances Gorges (a real historical character, like many of the other characters in this novel) is a noblewoman whose mother attends the dying Queen Elizabeth.  Thanks to the machinations of her ambitious and ill-tempered uncle (who wishes to see her advantageously married), Frances is appointed to the court of King James as a personal servant of James’s daughter Princess Elizabeth – initially at Whitehall Palace.

Unfortunately, Frances brings with her a reputation as a ‘wise woman’ skilled in the medicinal uses of herbs.  This reputation is an unhealthy one in view of the new king’s attitude to witchcraft and his determination to see the Devil at work everywhere and to severely punish those (generally women, in the king’s view) engaged in the furtherance of that work.  Frances’s position is made more precarious when upon her arrival at the court of King James she is immediately called upon by the queen to use her skills in the treatment of a favourite servant.  This comes to the attention of Robert Cecil, King James’s Lord Privy Seal and all-purpose political manipulator.  Cecil is constantly on the look-out for plotters against the paranoid King James, who is portrayed as living in constant fear of assassination whenever he is not either hunting or indulging his coterie of male favourites and neglecting his wife.  Cecil has his own reasons for suspecting Frances and her family of disloyalty in various forms, and her reputation for preparing herbal medicines and for possessing knowledge judged by many to be close to witchcraft does not help at all.

On the positive side, Frances develops a close friendship with her mistress Princess Elizabeth.  She also develops a close friendship of a different sort with a young nobleman and lawyer called Thomas Wintour (another real historical character).  The first of these relationships saves Frances’s life about half way through the story, while the second comes close to destroying both Frances and her family.

As a result of the prejudices of the king and the intense political and religious climate of the court and the time, Frances is accused of witchcraft and imprisoned in the Tower.  There, she is subjected to the painful and humiliating process of ‘witch pricking’ as Cecil and lesser officers of the state seek physical evidence that she has been consorting with the Devil.  She is only saved from almost certain hanging or burning by the insistence of Queen Anne that Frances must return to Whitehall to treat her daughter Elizabeth.  This Frances does successfully and she then (perhaps rather implausibly) returns to something like ‘normal’ court life. 

Alas, the Gunpowder Plot enters into the story at this point. Frances has entered unawares into a relationship with one of the plotters.  She meets the plotters (Catesby and Fr. Garnet both appear – two further real historical characters) and learns the outline of the plot.  She is repelled by the violent nature of the plan and refuses to cooperate. However, it quickly beomes plain that she has little choice but to cooperate. Also, she is won over by some of the plotters’ arguments.  She learns that her father is a secret Catholic and that various members of the court are in on the plot. She agrees to play her allotted part by chaperoning the young princess during an absence from London contrived to allow the destruction of the rest of the royal family while leaving the plotters in a position to set up Princess Elizabeth as a puppet monarch.  Tension and intrigue are added by the near certainty that Cecil is aware of the plot and many of the plotters.  It is implied that Cecil is acting as an agent provocateur and that he is planning to trap the plotters at the moment most damaging to their aims.

As we know, the plot fails and many of the conspirators meet with unspeakable ends. Poignancy and drama are added by a period during which Frances (away from London and with the Princess) believes that the plot has succeeded and that her beloved is probably safe.  She is, of course, cruelly disappointed.

This is a well-plotted intrigue based closely on historical sources and making good use of real historical characters.  The door is left open for the sequel: The Devil’s Slave.

Publisher:        Allen Lane (part of Penguin Random House)

Published:       2019

ISBN:              978-0-241-39936-1 (2019 hardback edition)

Pages:              130

Words:            30,000 approx.

James Lovelock is an independent scientist in his hundredth year at the time of writing (July 2019).  He is a Fellow of the Royal Society and is best-known for his ‘Gaia hypothesis’.  Lovelock is also the inventor of the electron capture detector – a device used in gas chromatographs for detecting exceeding small concentrations of chemicals in gases.  That invention was key to the recognition of the role of CFCs in depleting the earth’s ozone layer.  Lovelock has authored a range of popular science books, of which the best-known relate to the Gaia hypothesis (as an example, Gaia: A New Look at Life on Earth, OUP, 2000).

Lovelock reminds us that the term Anthropocene is used by many to refer to a supposed ‘new’ geological era – starting perhaps three centuries ago – in which the activities of man (in particular his rapid consumption of fossil fuels) can be traced in the rocks of the earth.  Although that term is by no means universally accepted, he goes on to suggest that the Anthropocene will rapidly be succeeded by a geological era in which the rocks will bear traces of a new and artificial form of life – which Lovelock assumes will be silicon-based and derived from mankind’s artificially intelligent machines.  This latter era he dubs the Novacene.

The book has several related themes.  One is the Gaia hypothesis itself, another is the inevitability (as Lovelock sees it) of The Novacene, and yet another is the question of what the Novacene will do to the earth’s atmosphere, oceans and surface geology.

Yet another theme concerns the search for intelligent extra-terrestrial life, its chances of success, and the strategies that are employed by that search. Lovelock is categorical about this. Very early in the book he asserts that ‘our existence is a freakish one-off’.  In support of that assertion, he reminds us that the belief (fashionable in many circles) that there must be intelligent life elsewhere simply because there are (probably) a huge number of planets capable of supporting life is deeply flawed.  That assumption relies on the idea that the product of the number of ‘suitable’ planets and the probability of intelligent life appearing on each is at least comparable to one. The key (and totally valid) point made by Lovelock is that we have no idea what that probability is – other than the knowledge that it is not literally zero since we exist.

Turning to the Gaia hypothesis theme of the book, that hypothesis is asserted in two clearly different forms: the form which says that the earth is a living thing, and the form which says that the earth’s biosphere somehow acts (and has acted for many millions of years) in such a way that an environment suitable for life is maintained.  Lovelock responds to one of the criticisms which has been made of the first formulation: that the earth has no means to reproduce – which surely means that it lacks at least one of the key features of a living thing.  His response is that ‘no 4-billion-year-old organism needs to reproduce’. Several scientific heavyweights, including Richard Dawkins and Stephen Jay Gould, have criticised the second (‘homeostatic’) formulation on the basis that there is no know mechanism by which such planet-wide homeostasis could emerge from the known mechanisms of evolution.  Lovelock responds to that criticism by referring to Daisyworld: a computer simulation in which a greatly simplified biosphere exhibits a simple type of homeostasis as a result of the pressures of natural selection.  The jury on Gaia appears to be firmly still out.

Scenarios by which a world dominated by artificial and silicon-based life might emerge from our present-day artificially intelligent machines are discussed.  The emergence of such a world appears to be regarded by Lovelock as inevitable – and not necessarily as anything we should worry about.  He sees evolution as being key to the development of the new life forms; but by this he appears to mean a type of accelerated computer-based evolution.

Little attention is given to some key philosophical questions, including what we really mean by intelligence, what we really mean by life, and whether consciousness (not to mention conscience) can or should have a role in the emergence of the presumed new life forms.  In a paragraph on the likely role of organic life in the Novacene he has something rather troubling to say (on p.123 in the 2019 hardback edition): ‘But for the dominating and overwhelming presence of Gaia, they would in no time be our masters’. 

Overall, the book is a fascinating read; partly as a summary of Gaia and related ideas but also as an insight into the thinking of one of the key scientists of our day.  The reminder that there is no sound argument for the existence of intelligent life anywhere else in the universe (and certainly no evidence at all of such life) is especially timely – since if we are the only intelligent beings in the whole cosmos then (as Lovelock points out) that appears to place upon us a special and grave responsibility.

Publisher:        Serpent’s Tail

Published:       2018

ISBN-10:         1788160657 (2018 hardback edition)

ISBN-13:        978-1788160650 (2018 hardback edition)

Pages:              288

Words:            100,000 approx.

This is the third novel from Sarah Perry (following After me Come the Flood and The Essex Serpent) and has been a Sunday Times bestseller.  It has been described as ‘postmodern gothic’ and was inspired by Charles Maturin’s 1820 novel Melmoth the Wanderer.  While Maturin’s novel was about a man who’s sold his soul to the Devil and who wanders the earth in search of someone to take the contract on from him, Perry’s novel concerns a woman who witnessed the resurrected Christ in the garden and then denied having done so.  Her punishment is to wander the earth forever acting as witness to the wickedness of mankind.

The novel begins in Prague in the present day. The protagonist is a translator called Helen Franklin; a lady of mature years who, for a reason disclosed late in the story, has made a lifelong habit of denying herself many of the ordinary human pleasures.  Ms. Franklin has a small circle of friends and acquaintances which includes academic Dr Karel Prazan and his English lawyer wife Thea, and her truly-objectional landlady Albina Horakova.  Through Dr Prazan, and an elderly acquaintance of his who dies early in the story, Helen becomes aware of a range of legends and historical sources dating back centuries and telling of a woman dressed in black and with bleeding feet – Melmoth the witness.  In some cultures, we learn, there is a tradition of leaving out a seat for the wanderer – perhaps from fear, perhaps from a belief that she performs some necessary function.  It becomes clear from the sources read by Helen, and again at the end of the novel itself, that Melmoth is bitterly lonely and that she will appeal to those whose wicked deeds she has witnessed to join her as companions in her wandering.  We are not told what the motivation for her original crime was, but she comes across as a figure to be both feared and pitied.

Early in the novel we learn that Dr Prazan has been badly frightened by his reading of the historical sources made available by his late friend Dr. Hoffman – even to the extent of imaging (or possibly actually seeing – that is not clear) Melmoth following him through the streets of Prague and into the café where he meets Ms. Franklin.  Those documents – some passed to Helen by Dr Prazan and some (after Prazan’s desertion) passed to her by his wife – tells four or five stories within the main story, each involving acts of betrayal or cruelty (and some of courage) witnessed by Melmoth. Those sub-stories involve a religious dissenter threatened with being burned alive in the 16^th century, the Nazi occupation of the Sudetenland, and the Turkish persecution of the Armenians.  In each of those sub-stories, Melmoth appears – condemning but also seeking to seduce people away to accompany her on her mission.

It is clear to Helen’s friends that there is a dark secret underlying her habits of self-denial.  At a dinner party given to celebrate the birthday of her elderly and cruel landlady, she is persuaded by pressure from friends and by visions of the characters in the documents to reveal her secret.  The reactions of her friends are mixed, but all except Albina Horakova (the landlady) show some degree of understanding.  Albina’s attitude is basically that ‘you got away with it, so stop worrying’.

The climax of the novel is split between a visit to the opera (to see Rusalka) and an interlude in a café at which a key figure from Helen’s past re-appears.  Throughout, Helen has visions and it is never completely clear what is real and what is imagined – but the character re-appeared from her past is real and there is a strong suggestion of forgiveness and reconciliation.

In the closing paragraphs, the character of Melmoth appears to get melded with that of the author herself and in the final sentence Melmoth makes an appeal (presumably to the reader) to join her on her eternal quest.

This is an undeniably sad book with undeniably beautiful ideas and passages within it.  A huge amount of food for thought is served up.

Publisher:        Balzer + Bray (an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers)

Published:       2018

ISBN:              978-0-06-247150-5 (trade)

                        978-0-06-284272-5 (international)

                        0062471503 (Kindle)

Pages:              471

Words:            110,000 approx.

Sara Rasch is a young (born 1989) American fantasy author, currently described by her Wikipedia page as an author of young adult fiction.  Having said that, there is nothing in this novel which makes it more suitable for young adults than for older people – though the scenes describing ‘heretics’ being burned at the stake could make it disturbing for younger readers.  Raasch is the author of the trilogy Snow Like Ashes.  The current novel is the first in a new series (of just two volumes, according to some sources on the internet).  The second volume will be entitled These Divided Shores and will be released in the Autumn of 2019.

The story is set in two countries which have recently been in bitter conflict – one having been occupied by the other – and who are negotiating a lasting political settlement following a revolution and a fragile peace.

The first of those two countries is Grace Loray – a large island divided into smaller islands by a complex network of rivers, lakes and jungles, and bordered to the north by a range of mountains.  Grace Loray is a land of magical plants and magical lore based on those plants.  The plants grow wild in the rivers and streams which divide the land and include unlikely-sounding plants capable of allowing people to levitate or capable of bestowing the ability to generate fire directly from the user’s body at will.  It’s clear, therefore, that these plants really are magical – they’re not just medicinal or hallucinogenic herbs whose action can be interpreted as magical.  In addition to the aftermath of the recent occupation and revolution, Grace Loray has to cope with the presence of ‘pirates’ known as steam raiders.  The main business of the steam raiders – apart from fighting each other – is the harvesting and smuggling of the magical plants. The geography of Grace Loray – with its rivers, jungles and swamps – provides ample opportunities for concealment, guerrilla warfare and intrigue against a beautiful natural setting.

The second of the two counties is Argrid – ruled by a vicious theocracy under its king and Eminence Asentzio Elazar. Elazar heads a church which worships the Pious God and which energetically ‘cleanses’ (often by burning at the stake) the population to ensure a strict orthodoxy of belief.

Argrid’s recent occupation of Grace Loray has been terminated by a revolution in which the Grace Lorayan’s victory was achieved through an alliance between its government and various syndicates formed by the stream raiders on the basis of their own allegiances to other neighbouring countries.  As the story begins, a delegation of Argridian diplomats are present in Grace Loray to negotiate a final settlement to the revolution.  Tensions between Argrid, the stream raider syndicates, and the government of Grace Loray (the ‘Council’) underly much of the intrigue in the story.

The first character to appear is Prince Benat (Ben), son of King Elazar.  In the first scene, Ben witnesses the burning of his uncle (the king’s brother) and his cousin Paxben for heresy. Their crime is procuring and attempting to use magical plants from Grace Loray – regarded as being totally forbidden by the Pious God.

Attention then switches to Adeluna (Lu), a very young former freedom fighter in Grace Loray.  We learn that Lu’s parents were key figures in the revolution and are now key figures in the Council, and that – despite her youth – she performed a range of military missions during the revolution involving shocking violence. 

Early on, Lu encounters the other main character in the story – an unaligned stream raider celled Devereux Bell (known as Vex) – who attempts to rob her in a riverside market. 

Vex (unrecognised by Lu at that point) is arrested and subsequently identified.  He has something of the popular status of a Robin Hood figure – recognised as a criminal but admired by many for his dashing style and independence.  A few scenes later – and as a result of political machinations between the Council, the Argridian diplomats and the stream raider syndicates – Lu helps Vex escape from the Council’s custody and the two embark on a mission to track down a disappeared Argridian diplomat.

Lu and Vex embark of a series of perilous adventures with the aim of finding a missing (possibly abducted) Argridian diplomat.  The makings of a romance develops between them, and it becomes clear that if they survive to the end of their adventures then they are going to be together.

In parallel with all of this, Prince Ben is asked by his stern (and possible mad) father King Elazar to investigate possible uses of Grace Lorayan magic for the treatment of a disease afflicting both Argrid and Grace Loray; in other words to engage in the type of heresy his uncle and his cousin Paxben were burned for!  We learn of Ben’s inner strife and terror, and of his on-going relationship with Jakes, a ‘defensor’ (soldier).

After a great many twist and turns in both Grace Loray and Argrid, King Elazar and Prince Ben arrive in a fleet off the coast of Grace Loray and are confronted on board one of their ships by Lu and Vex.  It emerges at this point that one of the main characters is the same person as one of the minor characters previously thought to be dead.  The story ends with an on-board battle whose conclusion is well-written but sufficiently open-ended to allow a sequel.

The novel is well-written, full of action, and has a convincing political and military back story.  The religious theme is disturbing but thought-provoking and relevant to the present day.  The present reviewer will be eagerly looking forward to the sequel.

Publisher:                    Atlantic Books (an imprint of Atlantic Books Ltd)

Published:                   2018

ISBN (hardback):        978-1-78649-480-1

ISBN (e-book):           978-1-78649-481-8

ISBN (paperback):      978-1-78649-482-5

Pages:              195

Words:            30,000 approx.

Peter Jones is a retired lecturer in Classics, having taught at Cambridge and Newcastle Universities.  In addition to academic publications, he’s written a range of ‘popular’ books on the classics including Vote for Caesar and Veni, Vidi, Vici – Everything you ever wanted to know about the Romans but were afraid to ask.  Dr. Jones retired in 1997 and is an MBE.

The book has the subtitle: What the Romans can tell us about old age and death and is written in an informal style without academic references and with a minimum of footnotes.  The text is divided into short sections – often of half a page or less, and often with comical titles such as Dodgy Stats, Dodgier Stats and Elderly Small-Mindedness.  The book’s mission (aside from a mission to entertain) is to spell out in simple terms what written sources from the ancient world can tell us about Roman and ancient Greek attitudes to ageing, death, the proper customs around death, and the afterlife.  Tombstone inscriptions provide one source of information, but Jones also draws on a range of well-known writings such as the poems of Homer and Virgil, Pliny’s Natural History and the satires of Juvenal and Horace. The writings of Cicero and those of the two Catos (Elder and Younger) also contribute to the mix.

The point is made early on that funerary inscriptions (of which we are told there are about 100,000 known from the Roman world alone) amount to a very biased source on which to base statistics or draw conclusions about general attitudes.  As an example, it is claimed that the inscriptions on Roman tombstones from North Africa can be taken to imply that about 40% of people died at over 70, while only 0.5 percent died under ten years old.

Having made that point, Jones offers ‘a brief digression’ on Roman attitudes to young and old.  He cites several ancient authors as giving multi-stage views of human life (well, male human life) akin to Shakespeare’s Seven Ages.  Overall, he suggests, there was an ambiguous view of the elderly in the ancient world. In this view, the old were sometimes seen as useless and even risible and sometimes seen as invaluable sources of wisdom.

Jones then moves onto mortality in infancy and childhood and makes the point that in the ancient world no-one would have been surprised to learn that a new-born has passed away. He cites Seneca as suggesting that it was (at least sometimes) seen an unmanly for a father to grieve extravagantly over the death of a child and even asserting that a man indulging in excessive grief on such an occasion should be reproached by his friends.

The trials of old age and the care of the elderly are then discussed.  Not surprisingly, the difficulties faced by the elderly were legion. These included the attention of ‘legacy hunters’ who might attempt to manipulate an elderly man’s will (while he lived) to their own advantage.  These burdens were relieved by various legal provisions in some parts of the ancient world. In Athens (at least at one time) state positions were open only to those citizens who had treated their elderly parents well. In Rome, we are told, a Senator who had reached the age of sixty would be relieved of the duty of attending the Senate. It seems clear that a Senator who reached that age in good health was a very lucky fellow.

One chapter is entitled Exemplary and ignominious deaths.  This discusses the deaths of – among others – Socrates, Nero and Cato the Younger.  Socrates’ death (at least as reported in the primary sources) is portrayed as heroic, and that of Nero as anything but.  The accounts of Cato’s suicide (to evade capture by the victorious Julius Caesar) are used to make the point that suicide could be seen as a legitimate way to make a powerful moral or political point (if one’s last).

The customs around funerals are described in so far as they can be known from the sources.  The employment of ‘professional mourners’ who would wail and otherwise present themselves as distressed at a funeral is described.  Other ancient Roman habits seem even more alien by modern standards, such as the provision of a pipe through which oil (or maybe wine) would be poured into a tomb on festivals and family occasions.  The point is also made that a funeral might be an occasion for rejoicing by the deceased’s slaves, since occasionally his will would grant some of them their freedom.

The penultimate chapter considers what may be deduced from epitaphs concerning attitudes to an afterlife.  A wide range of attitudes appear to have been present, including those of converts to the ‘mystery religions’, some of whom (at least in theory) saw themselves as having been promised a blissful, existence after death.

In summary, this is a very entertaining book.  It should perhaps be seen as presenting a sprinkling of ideas which may have been held by some in the ancient world – and not as an attempt to deduce and present widely-held views.  The point is well made by the author that funerary inscriptions – which are far more numerous than the other relevant written sources – must be regarded as giving us a very biased sample.

Publisher:        4^th Estate (an imprint of Harper Collins Publishers)

Published:       2019

HP ISBN:        978-0-00-828815-0 (2019 hardback edition)

TPB ISBN:     978-0-00-829634-6

Pages:              328

Words:            128,000 approx.

British mathematician Marcus du Sautoy is Simonyi Professor for the Public Understanding of Science at New College, Oxford – the role previously held by Richard Dawkins. His previous publications under the ‘popular science’ heading include The Music of the Primes (concerning the theory and history of prime numbers) and Finding Moonshine (about symmetry and group theory).

This particular book concerns itself mainly with two questions: just how much creativity has been achieved by existing AI systems, and just how much can be expected from future AI systems. There is little or no discussion of just what constitutes artificial intelligence, but maybe that’s a topic which has been done to death elsewhere. The story told here makes some fairly long and deep (but necessary) digressions into algorithms – just what are they, and just what do they do for us from day to day.

Early in the book, du Sautoy proposes something he calls the Lovelace Test (after Ada Lovelace, and by analogy with the Turing Test). The algorithm embodied in an AI system is defined to have passed the Lovelace Test if it’s produced a work of art but the programmer is unable to explain in detail just how the algorithm produced it. The subsequent description of machine learning (and in particular just how DeepMind’s AlphaGo algorithm honed its game to the point where it could beat an eighteen-time world Go champion) makes it clear that an AI system’s learning experiences can be so rapid and profound that it’s creator’s can be left quite unable to explain how the system achieve what it does.

So far as this reviewer can recall, there is not a single mention of deep learning in the book, but nevertheless that technology appears to underly many of the achievements reported. Algorithms (or AI systems) mentioned include a music AI called DeepBach allegedly capable of producing compositions in the style of the C P E Bach.

The role of algorithms in mediating (or controlling) many aspects of our everyday lives from behind the scenes is described with some revealing examples. The algorithms discussed include those used by Google, Amazon and the like to suggest works of art (or other products) which may tempt us to part with our cash. The processes by which those algorithms hone their performance by taking note of our on-line preferences is described and provides perhaps the clearest example of machine learning. Du Sautoy doesn’t fail to point out that by gathering such information those algorithms are learning a great deal about us as individuals – perhaps sometimes including things which we might not want them to know. The assertion that ‘data is the new oil’ is cited, and it’s suggested that perhaps as individuals we give that resource to corporations too freely at times. An informative account of the top-down and bottom-up styles of algorithm development is given, again as part of the account of machine learning.

Du Sautoy then moves on to talk about mathematics and to make the analogy between the development of mathematical conjectures and theorems and the playing of a deterministic game like chess or Go. It is suggested that mathematician such as du Sautoy himself might eventually be put out of work by AI systems – although the examples cited suggest that stage of development may be many decades away. The roles (actual and possible future) of computer-embodied algorithms in proving mathematical theorems is discussed – including the role of computers in the 1976 proof of the four-colour theorem. The on-going question of whether a proof that relies on a computer can be really be regarded as a proof is discussed; but beyond that the author goes on to suggest that AI systems might have a role in making complex human-generated mathematical proofs more intelligible through a sort of story-telling approach to the development of individuals ideas within each proof.

The link between mathematics and music is then explored, and some conjectures are offered regarding how the appeal of a piece of music might be a consequence of its mathematical content. Claude Shannon (the originator of information theory) is cited as suggesting that the appeal of music underlain by an algorithm might have something to do with the ability of some algorithms to compress data.

The use of AI to generate poetry and prose is discussed, and web links are provided through which the reader can sample AI-generated poetry and prose – together with AI-generated visual art.

The book provides a stimulating summary of the state of AI – not just in terms of creativity but also in terms of how machine learning works, what has actually been produced in terms of AI art, and what threats and legal complications might arise from the growing use of AI. Eight or nine pages of suggestions for further reading are given, together with some web links which provide the reader with plenty of opportunities to make his own mind up about the current contributions of AI to a range of art forms.

Publisher:        Riverrun (an imprint of Quercus Editions Limited – A Hachette UK company)

Published:       2018

ISBN:              978 1 78747 115 3 (2018 hardback edition)

Pages:              197

Words:            42,000 approx.

The background to this novel includes the world of body-building, the free-wheeling life of a 30-year-old IT professional (a web designer) based in London and living in a flat in that city, and an internet ripe for shady dealing and for criminal deception.  This is Sperling’s first novel. He is a lecturer in English at University College, London.

Ned, the protagonist, has engaged the services of a personal trainer (Darus) to help build himself up following rejection by an upper-crust girlfriend whose main complaint has nothing to do with his physique; she objects mainly to his bitter and otherwise negative attitudes.  It doesn’t help that his personal trainer and friend tells him that he’s a ‘low-testosterone guy’.  These circumstances lead Ned to venture into buying (illegally, over the internet) and injecting steroids to boost his testosterone level and, with it, his body-building success.

Ned’s first self-injection of steroid (egged-on by ‘friends’ on a steroid-users’ internet forum) is described well and excruciatingly, as are his efforts at the gym (abetted by Darus) to build himself up with the help of the drug.  His efforts are rewarded in a surprisingly short time in terms of muscle mass, mental acuity (at least as he perceives it) and success with the girls. Meanwhile, Ned is energetically extracting both information and fun from the ‘Roidsweb’ internet forum where his explorations began. He creates a series of ‘sock puppets’ – that is, fictitious subscribers to the forum – to amuse himself and to provoke and make fun of his fellow real subscribers.

But there are also shifts in his attitude to what is ethically acceptable – or maybe attitudes about ethics which had previously lain dormant emerge under the influence of the drug.  Darus the personal trainer suggests – possibly in jest – that one could make money by selling fake steroids. It occurs to Ned before long that using his IT skills and his array of sock puppets he could do exactly that and make a great deal of money at little risk.  On about the same timescale, he is made redundant and – possibly again under the influence of the steroids – he blackmails his boss into giving him a very generous redundancy deal.  Using his newly-acquired free time and cash, he creates a fraudulent internet business and quickly begins to make money.  By this time, he has recovered his relationship with Grace.  She appears to support his criminal activities and no longer to regard him no as ‘negative’.  Furthermore, she is now willing to allow him a range of bedroom activities she had previously forbidden.

Darus the personal trainer has been part of the story all along, but when Ned receives an order from him for some of the fake steroids, he feels that he must warn his friend.  He does this obliquely by finding an excuse not to deliver the ordered drugs, but later he tells Darus the truth about what’s happening.  Darus applauds his enterprise and success, but later points out that the initial idea was his and demands to be paid over half the profits – threatening to report the whole enterprise to the police if he doesn’t get what he wants.  Ned responds with apparent agreement to the demands, followed by a successful counter-blackmailing.  That places him in a situation where he wonders briefly whether Darus is about to murder him.  In fact, he survives and decides to cash up and lie low in Berlin for a year or so.  He’s learned from one of his current girlfriends that his ill-gotten haul will allow him to buy a flat there and to live in comfort for at least a year.  Along the way, Ned receives a bowel-loosening and well-described visit from a community police officer – investigating a different matter entirely.

The novel is compelling as a portrait of a particular type of ethically-ambiguous individual and of the type of commercial and ethical environment (and risks) created by the present-day internet.  The story prompts a range of questions about just why Ned does the things he does. Did he already have the makings of a fraudster, or did the steroids change his personality for the worse? The ending of the story is unsatisfactory; essentially, the protagonist cashes up his business and leaves the country with every expectation of a comfortable and consequences-free year abroad. A more eventful ending would have been more satisfactory, even if it was an ending which appeared to say that crime sometimes pays well.