Book Review: Women in Space

Being female makes for some basic biological differences. But as proven time and again, women have proven themselves capable to undertake and satisfactorily complete the same tasks as done by men. Given that piloting vehicles is less about strength and more about coordination and intuition, some would happily wager that women should excel in this role. However, because flight grew up as a tool of war and war has been a strictly male domain, women have always been at the periphery looking in. The insipient space industry also arose from a military foundation, hence, again men made decisions and prepared designs for themselves. Thus, though many women had the capability and desire to contribute, few opportunities arose for their participation in space.

Even though much could be said on the participation, or lack thereof, of women in space, Shayler and Moule’s book focuses solely on the achievements. The little seagull, Valentina Tereshkova, was the first woman to fly into space, but predecessors abounded. In acknowledging this, Shayler and Moule take the reader on a history lesson. They go to the 1700’s, when women astronomers were making their mark by flying in Montgolfier styled balloons. Parachuting, gliding and powered flight quickly succumbed to their skills. As most of these accomplishments could be achieved by an individual, women could and did do as they wished. This history review, though brief, amply demonstrates the ability of women.

In a juxtaposition, the book shows how, once society’s morality came into play, women were no longer equal players. That is, they were involved because of their sex, principally shown by the USSR in their program. The authors, however, stay with the facts by noting cosmonaut selection and training. After providing the backgrounds of many of these hopefuls, and the successful Valentina herself, Shayler and Moule switch back to the program of the United States. In an attempt to be broadly inclusive or perhaps to fill in a sorry lack of participation, they broaden their extent of achievements. There’s the female computers doing orbital trajectories as well as seamstresses who sewed flight suits and Skylab’s reflector. However, in using old phone books for identification, the authors let slip the narration and in consequence the book transposes into a series of lists rather than a discussion of accomplishments.

For example, much is made of Nichelle Nichols, better known as Uhura of Star Trek fame. True, she was prominent in early outreach programs for females but she did not directly contribute. There’s also description of the families and spouses of male astronauts. It wasn’t until the space shuttle era that women entered the mainstream. Sadly, here again, the authors trivialize their work by filling up much of the remainder of the book with data sheets. Using NASA Query Book and Press Kit factoids, they list every female who has flown on the space shuttle (or Soyuz), their technical background and their mission tasks. They go so far as identifying which shuttle seat they occupied during launch and return. Listing of minor roles, such as organizing flight shirts, clearly shows that the authors let NASA’s dogma dictate the contents. They neglect their own narrative abilities, which they ably showed in the earlier chapters.

By staying narrowly focussed on achievements, the author’s missed writing a great book rather than the good book they did write. They should have surmised on the precepts of a society that kept females in support roles while men achieved the glory. They alluded to but did not support the premise that shuttle crews would no longer include females so society would grieve less should another disaster occur. Does this mean men are more expendable? Sadly, their book never rises to this occasion.

There is no doubt that in most fields women are every bit as capable as men. The aerospace frontier is no exception. Women in Space by David Shayler and Ian Moule lists the women and their achievements as they and space flight increased in capability. From flying in balloons to piloting the space shuttle, they’re all in this book with great praise to their contributions.

Review by Mark Mortimer

Read more reviews online, or purchase a copy from Amazon.com.

Book Review: Miss Leavitt’s Stars

Miss Henrietta Swan Leavitt obtained work at Harvard Observatory to review photographic plates. These were coming in fast and furious from the many large observatories being built in the Americas. These plates recorded the moment, but humans needed to interpret the dots. Small differences may be due to atmospheric effects, telescope adjustments, emulsion reactions or human intervention. Yet interpreting dots was considered an unworthy task for men, so women like Miss Leavitt were paid about minimum wage to spend hours every day looking at these plates, comparing each against another and against various metrics. With their effort, characteristics were catalogued for tens of thousands of stars.

The biography of a human computer sounds dry without even cracking open a book’s cover. Their task would simply be onerous repetition of the mundane. However, Johnson puts little time describing this aspect of Leavitt’s life. Actually, as Johnson acknowledges, there’s precious little remaining that describes Leavitt at all. Almost no first hand records exist. Most documents are second hand in nature and regard her circumstances from a very business like view. For example, either the observatory director or another astronomer would write discussing Leavitt’s work, her results and interest for future work. Johnson even had to dig into census data to discover where she lived and with whom. With such a dearth of information, Johnson has had to expand upon writing a biography so he adds a good look at the venture directly related to Leavitt’s work, the estimation of the size of the universe.

As such, Johnson smoothly takes the reader on a journey through parallax measurements, red-blue shifting, luminosity, galaxies and variables. Certainly there’s Leavitt’s discovery published in 1908 where she noted that brighter variables have longer periods. This observation came in a publication that gave a full account of 1777 variables in the Magellanic Cloud, and was so entitled. We also read of Shapely’s and Curtis’s debate in 1920 on whether the Milky Way was the universe or whether the Milky Way was just one typical galaxy amongst others. Eventually Edwin Hubble used Leavitt’s relationship of Cepheid variables to show that Barnard’s Galaxy was over 700 000 light years away and certainly outside the realm of the Milky Way. Johnson then ends the book with a discussion of Hubble’s constant that relates a galaxy’s velocity to its distance.

As one can tell, this book is much more than just about Leavitt. There’s some mention of her childhood, her accommodations and relatives. There’s also some information about her vacation travels, her frequent time off for convalescence and the on-set of her deafness. Johnson does add nice touches about society at the time, such as Leavitt completing the requirements for a Bachelor of Arts degree, but because she wasn’t male, she could only get a certificate. He also notes the better known information, such as her epic in 1914 on the North Polar Sequence, which at 84 pages defined 96 stars for use as a standard for all astronomers. But as most of this could have been done in a small number of pages, Johnson ably and expansively enlarges this biography to include the topic that so dominated Leavitt’s work.

Therefore, though the title may be a bit misleading, this book does an admirable job at presenting Leavitt’s life and especially her life’s interest. As well, Johnson wrote all astronomical details from a generalist’s point of view which can easily be understood by anyone without training. Corollaries are common and clear. The occasional wandering in the subject adds to the reading rather than distracts the reader. The few pictures help visualize the main characters, while the adherence to the subject keeps the book tight and informative.

Computers will do what they’re told. But they can’t step back and deduce patterns nor generalize. Humans excel at this function and George Johnson in his book, Miss Leavitt’s Stars, presents the benefit all astronomers owe to Miss Henrietta Swan Leavitt, the human computer who first came to understand the relationship between the periodicity of Cepheid variables and their distance. His book shows she was a special person who admirably worked above the call of duty to augment our knowledge one step further.

Review by Mark Mortimer

Read more reviews online, or purchase a copy from Amazon.com.

Book Review: Space Systems Failures

High risk activities and aerospace are almost synonymous. Failures do occur. Who will ever forget the Hubble Telescope’s erroneously ground mirror? More visually spectacular are the launchers that explode immediately after launch, as did a Delta II in 1997. There’s also the high gain antenna of the Galileo spacecraft, which never opened, or the resounding thud of the Genesis spacecraft when its re-entry parachute failed. Not all are design errors, as the first accredited space collision saw the Cerise mircosatellite get decapitated. Less awe inspiring are ones like NOAA’s N-Prime, which was allowed to slip off its work platform within the factory. Successes do keep us trying, but the failures keep us cautious.

Writing about space failures can easily slip into grandiose hyperbole, but Dave Harland and Ralph Lorenz don’t go there. Their mission is to preserve a little of the industry knowledge that keeps sliding away when mentors retire or experts seek new pastures. Their book has two parts, both of which focus entirely on satellites and space probes, to the omission of manned flights.

The first part takes a chronological look at launchers, most of their failures, as well as much of their evolution. A quick synopsis for the 1950s converges onto the Ariane, Atlas and Delta systems of today. Not forgotten are foreign and niche market players like the Long March, Japan’s H series and OSC’s Pegasus. Very little mention is made of the USSR’s efforts. Sections examine each launcher in turn, often with the inclusion of significant dates and particular failures. For the failures, sometimes the authors identify the errant sub-system, but not often. Also, the topic can wander, as when talking about the economies of data relay systems or describing satellite repair during the early shuttle program. In all, this section is a good synopsis of launcher evolution and accompanying failures.

The second part of the book goes through various systems of satellites and space probes that have failed. Instead of using a chronological separation, the authors make divisions by system according to root causes; either propulsion, electrical, or other. As corrective measures can be found, the authors also describe many of the work-arounds. For example, an ingenious recovery team sent HGS 1 on lunar flybys en route to a geostationary orbit. In acknowledgement of these near miraculous events, the authors continually stress that the extremes of space make a broad and deep support team rewarding, if not essential.

As well, throughout the book, the authors attempt to instill some reasoning into risk management. In particular, how does one balance over-engineering against under-funding? The occasional arm chair warrior statement arises, such how $2 worth of a better grade of metal would have saved months of a ground crew’s diligent rescue efforts. Some process improvements get mentioned, such as managers who reward individuals for raising design problems at any stage of a mission. But, this book is much more a recitation of the facts and often the underlying causes.

Though the authors do stay on topic, side issues arise. For example, they discuss the effects on insurance agencies when a series of failures occur. Then there’s the discussion on the suitability of space walkers using the shuttle to fix satellites, the result being the practise was deemed not cost effective. As a result of all the data and many photographs, the reader will quickly appreciate the challenges that come with any space activity and the continual progress being made in the industry. Nevertheless with this book readers will still just be grazing the edge of the fields of risk management and quality control rather than becoming proficient in either.

Reading a book on failure is not for the faint of heart. But far better it is to be a little faint of heart than being ignorant of the challenges. David Harland and Ralph Lorenz in their book Space Systems Failures present the darker side that counters our thrust into space. Critical failures can quickly arise due to the myriad of logic switches, the demands of mechanical systems and the exactness of computer code. However, as long as we keep learning from our mistakes, our hearts will keep strengthening.

Review by Mark Mortimer

Read more reviews online, or purchase a copy from Amazon.com.

Book Review: Why Explore?

This book shows humans’ natural curiosity, their need to find out what is beyond their limits. Its premise is that exploring is good because it often leads to many new discoveries. This book also shows that when people ask questions, or when you are asking questions yourself, in a way you are exploring. Asking questions is like looking at something and knowing that there is something else to it. Exploring further extends your knowledge. So the next time someone is curious about what you’re doing or they are asking you a million questions, remember they are “exploring” and addressing a natural curiosity.

Each page of this picture book depicts one person questioning another on why they explore. When travelling is involved, the one staying behind argues that everything is O.K. right here so why travel? Fear of the unknown and its dangers keeps them home bound. For the ones leaving, the excitement of going, the fun of experimenting and the opportunity for a fresh start are what give them the impetus. The resonance of the book is that for people, it is natural to crave answers and to explore.

Understanding one’s own body and emotions is one of the greatest undertakings of any human. Whether young or old, they are always learning about themselves. Children, with their knack for asking the obvious, can shed more insight than a hundred doctoral candidates. As well, in helping children understand themselves, we understand ourselves better. This is the viewpoint taken by Lendroth and Moreiro. They show there is no one answer to the question, ‘Why Explore?”. Simply, for some there are many more advantages than in not exploring. The bigger quandary, though unaddressed, is why we keep questioning, why do we continually expect more.

A young child, 5 or 6 years old, would likely really enjoy reading this book with a learned adult. The large format, with reproductions of oil paintings filling every page’s background, makes for a visual treat. The short, rhyming text adds a sense of wonder and pleasure to challenging words like sharecropping and electron scattering. As children tend to be more curious with less patience, the few words and vivid art work would most likely well entertain them.

Picture books can teach children to count or recognize the primary colours. But more demanding books are those that try to broach the subject of emotions. Exploring and curiosity are such emotions and Susan Lendroth and Enrique Moreiro in their book Why Explore? comfortably and clearly let an older person discuss this concept with a younger one. After all, many of us, for whatever reason are not satisfied with the options at hand and are darn sure things could be better.

Review by Mark, Ariana and Lorelei Mortimer

Read more reviews online, or purchase a copy from Amazon.com.

Book Review: Empire of the Stars

Subrahmanyan Chandrasekhar, or Chandra, was a child prodigy in India. Straight from excelling at undergraduate school in the depths of India, he entered the cool, damp climes of Cambridge University. With few compatriots and little experience in the ways of English university rapport, he tried his best to add something useful. Excelling in mathematics and wanting to make a mark, he entered into the relatively new field of astrophysics. In particular, he established a mathematical basis for the degeneration of stars. The problem, of course, was that on the death of too large a star, the math showed that a death-knell implosion would lead to an infinite amount of mass in a negligible volume. As physicists had accepted that nature abhors vacuums and infinites, no one supported Chandra’s results, even though they agreed with the mathematics. Only 40 years later, with advances in knowledge together with the detection of the signatures of black holes in space, did Chandra get vindicated. Though he lived to see this result, given the initial umbrage, especially from Sir Arthur Eddington, Chandra was less than pleased.

Bringing the human dimension into scientific discovery can be fascinating. Arthur Miller depicts this well on delivering his review of the reception of Chandra’s calculations for the degeneration of white dwarfs. Chandra was a ‘wet behind the ears’ new graduate who believed in the scientific method for establishing or disproving theories. Implying this, Miller then shows that Chandra met formidable and conjectural resistance from the accepted world expert and fellow Cambridge astrophysicist Sir Arthur Eddington. Miller recovers details from original documentation showing how Chandra had the verbal support from most if not all the preeminent practitioners of the field like Bohr, Dirac, and Pauli. But none wrote any support for Chandra, for concern, as Miller put it, of crossing Eddington.

As evidenced by over 50 pages of referenced material, Miller provides credible details of the happenings of 70 years ago. He was hampered in that the estate of Sir Arthur Eddington had long ago destroyed almost all his personal papers. Further, Chandra usually worked solo, so few others could provide descriptions of his character. Because of this, Miller dedicates only one chapter to Chandra, describing his early years, while another describes Eddington’s. Thus, he makes up for a lack of personal information by providing details on the many other people who kept filling in the puzzle regarding black holes. Often a page or two will give personal experiences, like Karl Schwarzschild’s time in the front lines, or Yakov Zel’dovich playing catch with a medicine ball. Sometimes he goes far afield by including anecdotes of commuters who took the long way to Los Alamos via a bar in Mexico. However, these snippets add pleasant colour to this historical synopsis. As such, the centre of the book contains more a series of personalities and their contributions rather than relevance to Chandra and Eddington.

Because of this, Miller falls a bit flat on his original postulation that Eddington’s displeasure with Chandra’s presentation in 1935 held the field of astrophysics back for 40 years. Rather, Miller, in later chapters, indicates that Chandra maintained a voluminous production of highly regarded mathematics, garnering most of the top awards which cumulated in a Nobel prize. Further, Miller shows a steady progress in astrophysics. That is, though Chandra’s mathematical speculations weren’t accepted, experimenters kept advancing our understanding. It seems Miller joined two ideas into one book. One examines the interaction between Eddington and Chandra. The other reviews the chronological steps in astrophysics, particularly regarding star degeneration. The sum is a personable history of late twentieth century astrophysics with particular emphasis on two early contributors.

Some people naturally have gifts that lend themselves to scientific explanation. However, people come with a complete suite of less than stellar personalities. As such, theorists can have a really rough time until practitioners catch up. Arthur Miller in Empire of the Stars describes the trying time of Subrahmanyan Chandrasekhar who believed in black holes long before any evidence arose. But Miller shows how experimenters did catch up to this theorist who was looking so far ahead of most everyone else.

Review by Mark Mortimer

Read more reviews online, or purchase a copy from Amazon.com.

Book Review: Hiding in the Mirror

When Lawrence Krauss was a boy he watched an episode of the Twilight Zone in which a girl gets lost in another dimension. Although the show was finished within half an hour the idea of extra dimensions has not escaped the mind of the author ever since. Krauss has become one of the leading experts in cosmology and particle physics as well as a prolific writer of several novels already, the most famous of which is The Physics of Star Trek. It would be difficult to find a better qualified guide to take the reader through the new worlds the book explores.

The first stop is Flatland: the odd world imagined in 1884 by Edwin A. Abbott which has only two dimensions. Krauss explains the philosophical and mathematical underpinnings of the story and describes the scientific research going on during the time by describing the work of contemporaries such as Faraday and Maxwell. He continues by going back and forth between the cultural and scientific viewpoints of the age, which gives the reader a firm foundation in what is needed to understand the later chapters. This method also ensures that the reader does not become bored from too many pages spent on French philosophers for example or too overwhelmed in order to understand the nuances of topics like special relativity. Krauss has also mastered the art of introducing material so a beginner in the subject can understand it with relative ease and also present the information in a fresh way that does not bore a reader already well versed on the topic. In this manner the book progresses through the most important points of modern physics and cosmology in a well-explained and creative manner that will not bore the reader in the least.

The last third of the book is devoted to the most recent cosmological implications of extra dimensions, which includes such exotic topics like quantum mechanics and string theory. The going in these chapters is more difficult simply because of the difficulty of the information presented: you are dealing with topics theoretical physicists spend lifetimes grappling with so the knowledge requires a bit more pause for retrospect on the part of the reader. The topics are still well explained, however, so if you want to gain an understanding of many of the current issues in physics and cosmology you will be hard-pressed to find a better primer.

The book finally concludes with an essay on Krauss’ own views on the topic of extra dimensions, most notably in the area of string theory. After patiently explaining all their possibilities from science to philosophy throughout the book, Krauss admits that he is an agnostic because of the lack of physical proof that science requires by definition. His explanation of the scientific method and the value of skepticism are wonderfully refreshing to any empirically minded reader.

Make no mistake: Hiding in the Mirror, through its writing style and beliefs on the role of science in society, will touch the reader as having more than a few Sagan-like qualities within the text and is certainly one of the best works by Lawrence Krauss to date. It is an enchanting examination of our relationship with worlds hiding just beyond our perception, and will leave any reader with a better understanding of the universes, real or tangible, around them.

Review by Yvette Cendes, an undergraduate physics major at Case Western Reserve University.

Read more reviews online, or purchase a copy from Amazon.com.

Book Review: Space Tourist’s Handbook

For these people, enamoured by flight and space travel, exciting new vacation retreats continually arise. There are converted aeroplanes that entice you with short tastes of weightlessness in parabolic flights. Fully bedecked astronaut wanna-be’s can experiment with neutral buoyancy while in swimming pools. Spinners rotate ever faster to experience the mind numbing pleasure of high g’s in a centrifuge. And speed demons can take flight in the fastest plane available. For those looking to the future, sub-orbital space flights are on the drawing boards of many companies. The richest elite can even experience the dream of a life time trip by taking a Soyuz taxi to the International Space Station. Certainly these wouldn’t be everyone’s idea of optimal leisure activities, but for some, they are just the needed escape from the boredom of cubicle land.

In this handbook, Anderson and Piven have a lot of fun guiding readers on how to satisfy their taste of space. In a style that’s part travel brochure, technical document and instructional manual, there’s information on space ports, flight vehicles and adaptation to off-world climates. The presentation is reminiscent of an advertising brochure for a cruise ship, even to the possibility of day trip adventures at various way points. Handy references include the Russian pronunciation for useful phrases like ‘What does this button do?’as well as items to bring with you in order to make your time most memorable. Within are even details on a chance to win a sub-orbital space flight, at least for a resident of the U.S. This contest is as real as the hadnbook’s contents, as Space Adventures has already shown their ability to deliver by orchestrating many tasty space vacations.

The book’s layout is also fairly typical for a vacation brochure or guidebook. The authors give travel tips on choices, travel prerequisites and expectations. There’s lots of neat ideas on basic destination necessities like eating, drinking, bathing and sleeping. For instance, the water is certainly safe to drink but your stomach might still get upset from the unfamiliar micro-gravity. As well, a fairly detailed description gives the low-down on that ever lasting query, how to go to the toilet while in zero gravity. Copious pages of protocol would help newbies resolve issues like; how to dine without letting food loose in the cabin, what to do when you accidentally float into another vacationer or the correct response when asked to play chess by a crew member. As any good brochure should do, it gives the reader a leg up on what to expect and hopefully avoid making too many faux pas.

Given the writing style and the travel brochure like presentation, there’s not overly much technical information. After all this is for a vacationer! Simple, light wording and humourous anecdotes keep the reader smiling. The drawings are bright and humourous such as how to appear sane during the psychological exam. Even more diagrams would have been useful as sometimes the descriptions got too wordy. More photographs and quotes would have lent further authenticity to the feel of the book. As well, there’s an overly large concentration of information regarding micro-gravity living in places like the International Space Station. Yet, very, very few readers will ever get the opportunity. However, with the quirky font and bright off-beat colours, this handbook is a far cry from any government sanctioned document on space flight and much more the travel brochure any vacationer would hope for.

Vacations are equal part dreams and reality. Imagining yourself at your destination may be all that keeps you going through the drudgeries of day-to-day work.. To keep your imagination alive try out Eric Anderson and Joshua Piven’s book, The Space Tourist’s Handbook. With this, your dreams can take you right off this world and perhaps with a bit of real hard work you may be fortunate enough to follow these dreams and put yourself in an out of this world experience.

Review by Mark Mortimer

Read more reviews online, or purchase a copy from Amazon.com.

Book Review: On the Shores of the Unknown

Our universe has been around a long time, nearly 15 billion years. Before that, who knows? Maybe there were strings or branes in existence. During the pre-Big Bang, these might have flexed in unison and produced a singularity of infinite density. Highly speculative as this beginning is, the follow-on is much more understandable and verifiable. Theories elucidate happenings at about 10-43 seconds after the Big Bang or time zero. These, together with knowledge built up from peering deep into the smallness of matter, help build a picture of baryons coming into being, forces starting to push and pull, and protons and neutrons appearing and making the common matter which we are most familiar with today. From this description of the small, the universe went on to make the big – the stars, galaxies and clusters. As with anything else, the common denominator of the universe is perpetual change over time.

Trying to unravel this mystery of galactic evolution is, as Silk writes, as challenging as archaeologists piecing together life from eons ago. However, instead of deducing an environment from a few bone fragments, cosmologists must interpret emissions scattered about the electromagnetic spectrum. These emissions result from a variety of processes and give clues to the universe’s history. Thus, cosmologists will postulate various models and theories on causes and effects. Nevertheless, as Silk points out, proving any of these is next to impossible as we just can’t emulate a universe in a laboratory. What we can do to solve the mystery is to piece together clues found through experimentation and observation.

Given this vague data set, anyone would be right in assuming that one cosmological theory is as good as another. Silk, however, mostly chooses one route for his history and only occasionally considers alternative theories. His route starts with the Big Bang, is followed by a very short, rapid inflationary period that then morphs into the slower inflationary period of today’s universe.

The strength of Silk’s book is that he continually makes links between theories and experiments. Visual observations, neutrino observatories and detectors in particle accelerators all bring facts into the theories. For example, the concentration of heavy metals differs amongst stars. Yet the concentration of heavy metals is directly associated with age, hence, we can estimate a star’s age and thus the age of the surrounding galaxy. Further, by looking at various red shifts, we can estimate rotational velocity and this, together with a bit more finesse, will determine the velocity with respect to the centre of the universe. Or, there is the Wilkinson Microwave Anisotropy Probe that measures the background temperature fluctuations to implicitly define the distribution of matter today. Silk even provides links into future tests, such as the Laser Interferometer Space Antenna scheduled to detect ancient gravity waves after launch in 2012. By clearly identifying the role of various future and recent experiments, Silk enables the reader to readily come to grips with our understanding of the cosmos today and our targets for more knowledge tomorrow.

Silk ably portrays highly technical knowledge in fine writing. Sometimes his book reads like a compressed graduate text with little pause for clarification or repetition. He has a somewhat higher than average expectation of prior knowledge. There are no equations, nor questions at the end of a chapter, but they might well have been there in an earlier draft. As such, the reader should be comfortable with the more esoteric concepts of cosmology in order to get the most from this short history of the universe. Mind you, with the many graphs and diagrams, the reader does have plenty aids in grasping the concept. Further, a number of colour plates dramatically demonstrate the processes being discussed.

If you want to know why we do certain astronomy experiments or why we believe in certain cosmological principles, Joseph Silk’s book On the Shores of the Unknown is just what you need. From the creation of matter to the formation of galactic clusters, he provides a clear, soundly reasoned exposition of how a point of infinite density could have made us into what we are today. With this, we can certainly consider making big plans for tomorrow.

Review by Mark Mortimer

Read more reviews online, or purchase a copy from Amazon.com.

Book Review: Strange Angel

Jack Parsons, born John Whiteside Parsons, grew up in Pasadena, California. Though his family had substantial assets, the depression hit them hard. His life went from being a sole child in a rich family to being just one more member of a shrinking family with quickly disappearing money. An early fascination with space travel from the likes of Jules Verne gave Parsons a great desire to journey off the planet. In pursuing this quest, Parsons took what was then known of black powder and experimented. He varied constituent ingredients, relative compositions and manufacturing techniques. Yet, seldom did he get far from a glorified firecracker. Nevertheless, through trial and error, he was able to manufacture rockets that convinced the military of their usefulness in assisting take-offs (the JATO’s). Not long after, his group launched the first aeroplane flight powered solely by rockets.

With Parsons leading in such a captivating field, a biography would seem likely to focus primarily on accomplishments. Yet Pendle’s work delivers a much broader perspective. Apparently, as much as Parsons wanted to physically fly into the heavens on a rocket machine, he also wanted to journey mentally into other realms. Pendle provides all the details of how Parsons took over the local chapter of religious group, the Thelemas. Free love was in vogue as was much alcohol and the occasional ritual midnight mass. With their leader’s directive being, ‘Do what thou wilt’, there seemed little to inhibit participants’ actions.

These are the two main venues that appear in this book. Rockets and religion. Pendle steps through Parsons’ life from one main event to another. He describes each step in great detail. Housing architecture, real estate deals, and city officials on the take are all background for Parsons’ first appearance in court as an expert witness. Or there’s the Arroyo Seco range with its dry, still air occasionally broken by the blast from experimental rocket engines, swept clean by a deluge of rain, or enjoyed by youths of the area. By giving such a complete view of events and surroundings, Pendle places the reader directly into the times and moments of Parson’s life.

In keeping with this broad view, Pendle expands upon these background notes. There’s a rendition of the life of the Church of Thelema’s leader, Aleister Crowley. Time and again we get portrayals of the residents and architecture of Orange Grove, the street in Pasadena where Parsons spent much of his life. Pendle also shows a good view of some members of Caltech. Tie-ins with local and national science fiction authors abound. Many came to see Parsons or vice versa. There’s even a perception that L. Ron Hubbard’s definitions of Scientology originally came from Hubbard’s association with Parsons.

Perhaps what does get challenging is that these side issues take up so much of the book. There’s California’s culture, Caltech’s inception and growth, the military’s disfavour with rockets and lists of Crowley’s writings. All of these are interesting, some even fascinating, but it’s not always easy to associate with the biography. Further, though there might have been a tight science fiction community at the time, the description of magazine editors and their many stories and editorials makes one think that Pendle had more information than he knew where to insert. As my interest is in the rocketry aspect, I would have preferred more on this topic and less on the other people marginally involved with Parsons.

As well, the missing element in this writing is the lack of conjecture about Parsons himself. There are allusions to a final suicide, or was it an industrial accident? What was it like always being an outsider of Caltech or Aerojet? Why did magick hold such a spell over Parson? With no formal university training, but an encyclopaedic knowledge of chemistry and explosives, why couldn’t or wouldn’t Parsons integrate into research and development groups? These questions arose in my mind, but I kept having more questions and few answers.

Jack Parsons devoted most of his working life to proving and bettering rocket propulsion. His personal life was equally devoted, but to magick and philosophy. George Pendle in his biography Strange Angel colourfully portrays Parsons’ life and the exciting and mystical events that surrounded him. Some people were just never meant to be normal, and the rocket industry can thank Parsons for being one of those people.

Review by Mark Mortimer

Read more reviews online, or purchase a copy from Amazon.com.

Book Review: Year of the Comets

In the 1990’s two great spectacles arrived for the heaven watchers, comet Hyakutake and then comet Hale-Bopp. They separately graced the night time magnificence with their displays of light; their leading dirty snowball and following millions of kilometres of fairy tale, sparkling, shiny powder. Transitory in nature, they’ve come to be more a light show than the portenders of the future they once were thought to be. Yet in all their beauty, they also represent an element of the mystery of the universe. Where do they come from? What are they made of? What causes them to cyclically reappear?

Jan DeBlieu doesn’t answer these questions in her book, nor does she even try. At most she’s drawing a corollary between the great unknowns of the universe and the great unknowns of our own being. She makes this connection when two significant events happen at about the same time in her life. One, of course, is the arrival of the comet Hyakutake. The other is her husband succumbing to depression. Neither were wholly explicable. Neither were predetermined. Both were just short transitions through her life, but she writes about both of them in a light, vivid, soul searching style that presents her grasping to understand the nature of each.

Much as a sad wind blows by leaving a person wondering and reflective, reading this book leaves a person questioning and curious. There are many joys of nature. But to fully appreciate joys, we need sorrow. This is the nature of our being and Jan presents this counterpoint throughout her book. Sweet memorable times with her husband contrast with painful accusations and trying moments. Bright sparkling clusters and supernova remnants strongly contrast against the black background of the universe. Searching for knowledge may only lead us to more questions and a greater feeling of ignorance. Yet, as DeBlieu shows, time continually moves on, things change and we need to enjoy what we can.

Normally writing one book is challenging. DeBlieu seems to make an easy time of writing three books within one cover. For one, she’s a neophyte astronomer/cosmologist who’s all agog over the beauty, complexity and ever changing lights of the night sky. For another, she’s a wife learning to deal with a loved one suffering a challenging disorder. Last, she’s writing an autobiography of her own times, her sadness, her joys and her impressions from living. Each of these three get combined into a bright, emotional sharing of herself with her readers.

The astronomical and cosmological lore within the book are up to date and pertinent. I particular like the presentation of free will. A butterfly flapping its wings in the Amazon can effect the weather around the world. Is it then possible that we are doing the same to the weather of the universe by flinging probes like Pioneer into the nether reaches of space? For the most part, each concept presented does lend itself to the other stories within. Sometimes they don’t but this doesn’t unduly disturb the flow.

Nevertheless, the topics change quickly. In a brief span of the text, that is two pages, DeBlieu discusses the value of drugs in combatting depression, the power of light to draw baby sea turtles and the dark matter that keeps the Milky Way spinning. If this quick flip from one subject to another makes reading enjoyable for you, this is a book for you.

No one can say that their life is better than another’s. Even during difficult times, there’s lots to keep a sense of wonder in one’s heart and a smile on one’s face. All we need do is keep a proper perspective. In Year of the Comets Jan DeBlieu gives us her perspective of her own life; the things that made her smile and those that kept her going even when so much was not going well. Share some of your own time with her memories and take pleasure in the wonders of astronomy.

Review by Mark Mortimer

Read more reviews online, or purchase a copy from Amazon.com.