WHICH revolutionary book changed the course of science in the 17th century?
Was it Newton鈥檚 weighty tome on gravity or Edward Tyson鈥檚 anatomical study of
the orang-utan? The answer might seem obvious, but the essays edited by J. V.
Field and Frank James in Renaissance and Revolution (Cambridge
University, 拢19.95/$29.95, ISBN 0521627540) illustrate how
historians are challenging traditional assumptions about the past.
Fifty years ago, the influential historian Herbert Butterfield had no doubts
about the birth of modern science. For him, the Scientific Revolution of the
16th and 17th centuries 鈥渙utshines everything since the rise of Christianity鈥�.
But are changes that took place over two centuries really revolutionary? Does it
make sense to use the word 鈥渟cientific鈥� for a range of activities, such as
Newton鈥檚 alchemical experiments, that bear little resemblance to modern science?
And given the current interest in genes and evolution, how are we to accommodate
the biological sciences within historical narratives that trumpet the rise of
physics? Recently reprinted, the 17 academic papers in Renaissance and
Revolution explain why historians of science want to revolutionise how we
think about the 鈥淩evolution鈥�.
But abolishing the Scientific Revolution means rethinking the Renaissance of
the 14th to the 16th centuries. Beautifully written and illustrated, Lisa
Jardine鈥檚 Worldly Goods(Papermac, 拢12, ISBN 0333674464), provides
an exciting and novel interpretation. Reflecting historians鈥� current
preoccupation with the growth of our modern consumer society, Jardine
concentrates on money, commerce and things. By rejecting the conventional focus
on an artistic and literary rebirth of classical values, she carves out a new
place in cultural history for early science. She explains how globes and
scientific instruments played vital roles in developing the trade routes that
enabled raw materials and finished goods to travel round the world. Mingling
Copernicus and Regiomontanus with Holbein and Giorgione, her narrative brings to
life the international community of cartographers, instrument-makers and
publishers who helped to produce and market beautiful Renaissance artefacts.
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For another approach to the Renaissance, try Nancy Siraisi鈥檚 The Clock
and the Mirror (Princeton University, 拢37.50/$49.50, ISBN
0691011893). Cardano, who was an astrologer and mathematician, as well as a
medical practitioner, included blood letting, dream analysis and magic charms in
his therapeutic repertoire. Siraisi abandons the birth-to-death approach of
conventional biographies. Instead, she uses Cardano as a mirror to reflect the
philosophies and physicians of his complex intellectual world鈥攖he
historical equivalent of Cardano鈥檚 own recommendation that 鈥渢he studious man鈥�
should continually consult a mirror to monitor his physical degeneration.
Perhaps historians have been heeding Cardano鈥檚 advice, since they are now
examining bodies with a keen intellectual interest that parallels the physical
fashion for self-modification with tattoos, body-piercing or cosmetic surgery.
But this current obsession is by no means new, as is amply demonstrated by the
contributors to Dominic Montserrat鈥檚 Changing Bodies, Changing Meanings
(Routledge, 拢45, ISBN 0415135842). Greeks, Egyptians and the early
Christian martyrs recognised that altering your body is an ideological statement
that you want to change society.
Considering Egyptian mummies as cyborgs can be heavy going. However, even if
your French is up to scratch, you may well feel overwhelmed by the barrage of
facts in David Cosandey鈥檚 Le Secret de l鈥橭ccident (Arl茅a, F175,
ISBN 2869593368). His 鈥淪ecret of the West鈥� is mereupory鈥攁 concept
whose name is so hard to pronounce that it鈥檚 unlikely to catch on. Cosandey
contends that science has flourished for the past millennium in Europe because
the continent鈥檚 uniquely high ratio of coastline to land area encouraged
economic prosperity and stability. This zany attempt at a triumphalist Plato to
NATO account provides a salutary reminder that finding new ways of writing
scientific history is not always such a good idea.