It’s a pretty rare Fiction Lab that sees us reading brand-new lab lit novels two months in a row, but fortune has smiled upon our Royal Institution book group for September and October. (And thank goodness for the odd economical reality that can make hardcover books roughly the same price as the paperback on Amazon â and often cheaper. What is that all about, anyway? Probably the same fluctuation in space-time that priced my last eBook purchase at ÂŖ3 more than the hardcover price. Yes, they saw me and my Sony Reader coming.)
Could this be the start of a genuine trend? Let’s hope so. Nonetheless, in our September gathering, last Monday, a good many people had a lot of less-than-flattering things to say about Turbulence by Giles Foden, the tale of a randy meteorologist who rather unconvincingly becomes a mathematical genius to help predict the weather for the D-Day Landings â oh, and he also, bizarrely, garrotes someone with a weather balloon along the way. The premise, based on real events, couldn’t have been more promising, but the main complaints were about craft: foreshadowing about as subtle as a solar eclipse, clunky transitions between present-day and flashbacks, and characters that you just didn’t quite believe in. And as is common for some science novels written by non-scientists, the overarching science-as-life metaphors were just a little too breathless.
If the previous novel put our heads in the clouds, the next promises to embed them firmly in the sand. Or at the very least, shale. On 12 October we’ll be discussing Remarkable Creatures by Tracy Chavalier, yet another novel based on historical reality. In this case, the fictional lens is turned on two Victorian fossil hunters (huntresses?), Mary Anning and Elizabeth Philpot, as they struggle to be respected as natural scientists in a man’s world. If the previous book was one for the lads, this is definitely something for the girls, and I have high hopes because this author is usually very enjoyable.
If that’s not enough excitement for one post, I can report that we’ll all be heading over en masse on 5 October to the Royal Society to hear Ms. Chevalier discuss her book with Richard Fortey, paleontologist extraordinaire, thereby getting us properly warmed up for the discussion to follow. There might, also, be the odd libation afterwards at my favorite post-RS watering hole. Do join us if you can!
First!
Um, sorry.
Do you think I could be sued for libel if I report the alternative title for Foden’s novel that Stephen suggested?
snort
Quite probably.
Was it Scurrylous?
@Frank – ‘Scurrylous’ – I like that…
Re the alternative title: it was completely defensible fair comment. What an awful book it is.
Scurrylous – how wonderful.
Stephen, I tried to link to the fateful tweet, but am so old-fashioned I can’t work out whether tweets even have links. It was all so much easier with pen and paper!
This one ?
How did you do that? Never mind, I’ll just go back to my lab calculations — now where did I put that abacus?
Heh. If you go to http://twitter.com/Stephen_Curry/ you can see just how Scurrylous he’s being. But each tweet has a time stamp (‘about 3 hours ago’, or similar). The time stamp is the link to the individual tweet.
Hyperdesmophobia?
what a coincidence — somebody from harpercollins once enquired about a photograph of mine for the front cover of that Tracy Chevalier book. since they decided against using my one in the end, i guess i’ll have to sulk and not buy it or take part this month! đ
Oh, what a shame. That would have been brilliant! What was the photo like?
Joe – I was contacted about one of my photos for use in a law textbook (yes really) and now I’m worried that they might change their mind. đ
Jenny – I clicked through on your “watering hole” link – my eyes! My eyes! For somewhere called the “Institute of Contemporary Arts”, that is one butt-ugly webpage. đ
The bar looks cool though…
Yes, I find it quite distressing. The actual venue is lovely.
What sort of image for the law textbook? Have you been playing with the kitchen scales again?
My Dad got to do the cover for one edition of this – one of his platinum prints of her garden.
Ooo, platinotypes – that’s complicated chemistry, that is.
The photo was of Brookfield (nÊe BCE) Place in Toronto, which has a large atrium area with arched metal roof beams, and completely encompasses an old stone building that I guess has something or other to do with legal history in this town. It’s a very photogenic setting.
This photo, which isn’t mine obviously, will give you the general idea.
This was the photo — http://www.cotch.net/image/452866741
I guess that, since it’s actually a photo of a piece of public art, I can’t really complain about them choosing not to give me lots of money for it!
I’ve had a couple of random photos in academic texts, but these days I just tell people they can have them for free — so long as they obey the terms of the license agreement, and make their textbook open access đ
Why is this where I have to find out that BCE Place is no longer called BCE Place? (And when will Toronto stop renaming every single building, she added from the bistro called Future – formerly known as Future’s Bakery)
Joe, that’s lovely. But I would have guessed it was a line drawing, which is pretty amazing.
Richard, you have to share your photo. Please?
It’s this one:
[Click photo for biggeriness]
Oooh. Nice.
Thankee. Just got around to looking at Joe’s, which is rather fabulous.
@Eva – Skydome. That is all I have to say on that topic. SKY.DOME.
p.s. The Chavalier novel so far is good. It’s a relief to read someone who has a firm command of novelistic craft.
someone who has a firm command of novelistic craft.
That’ll be the Captain of HMS Lord of the Rings, then?
Sorry. As you were.