Richard Hamblyn

[This is a review I wrote in 2009]

** Four devastating natural disasters narrated largely from eye-witness accounts**

A narration of four events that changed the world, all natural disasters. Each disaster chosen corresponds to one of the four natural elements - earth, air, fire, water - showing how volatile each of these elements can be. Richard Hamblyn has chosen the Lisbon earthquake of 1755, the European Air Panic of 1783 (the unusual weather phenomena and strange appearance of the skies), show more the Krakatoa volcanic eruption of 1883, and the Hilo Tsunami of 1946. His preface about the most devastating Tsunami in recorded history, the Boxing Day disaster in 2004 is a stark reminder of our vulnerability to natural disasters at any time and how important it is that we as humans learn from what our planet is telling us and learn from any past mistakes in dealing with these catastrophic events.

Part history, part history of science and geology, reading Richard Hamblyn's narration is a humbling experience. Each case history is drawn primarily from eye-witness accounts which lends a very human perspective to these natural disasters and enhances the reminder that any one of these events could take place again. A very readable and thought-provoking thesis. show less

I really enjoyed this exploration of how natural disasters affect the people that face them, and indeed change the course of history. I have read books about Krakatoa and the Hilo tsunami before, but the other two disasters were completely new to me. Hamblyn is an excellent historian, and his focus on the human side of these disasters is far more telling than statistics about the amount of lava squirted. When you read it, you feel a kinship with the unfortunate people who must face these show more catastrophes - the have no choice or other options. But perhaps even more important is his description of how these disasters altered the course of history. Further proof that we are but passengers on this enormous and powerful planet. show less

The Publisher Says: The Invention of Clouds is the true story of Luke Howard, the amateur English meteorologist who in 1802 gave the clouds their names -- cumulus, cirrus, stratus. He immediately gained international fame, becoming a cult figure among artists and painters -- Goethe, Constable, and Coleridge revered him -- and legitimizing the science of meteorology. Part history of science, part cultural excavation, this is not only the biography of a man, but of a moment: the cultural birth show more of the modern scientific era.

My Review: Late eighteenth century London was an amazingly fertile place, with many concurrent revolutions burgeoning, and knowledge as such becoming an object of trade, almost, it was seen as so very desirable and advantageous to possess a new piece of it. The idea of scientific study of the natural world was relatively new, but had already made very solid and quite impressive inroads into the public consciousness. No longer was a person pursuing research into the material world liable to excite unwelcome and potentially hazardous attention from religious authorities. The world was open at last to apparently limitless desire of humans to ask questions and seek answers.

Into that atmosphere was born Luke Howard, a scion of a stolid, solid, money-making Quaker (more accurately called "Dissenters") family. He was cursed with unquenchable curiosity in a relgious sect that valued the practical over the notional, and obedience over personal happiness. (Depressingly familiar, eh what?) His childhood fascination with clouds was subsumed into the coerced "need" that his wealthy father felt for Luke to have a trade.

Nonetheless, Luke pursued his passion for observing clouds, in time falling in with the other members of his age and class and religion who were among the vanguard of scientific researches (eg, William Allen, Richard Phillips, WH Pepys) at that moment, largely due to their cultural isolation from more mainstream pursuits by faith and the laws of the day. His friend and business partner William Allen had founded something called The Askesian Society, where Howard presented a lecture in December 1802 that set the world on its ear: He proposed and defended a naming system for the clouds that, with minor extensions, we use to this good day.

Not bad for a 30-year-old ne'er-do-well (per his father) who was pathologically shy and unwilling to be "famous."

Late eighteenth century London was an amazingly fertile place, with many concurrent revolutions burgeoning, and knowledge as such becoming an object of trade, almost, it was seen as so very desirable and advantageous to possess a new piece of it. The idea of scientific study of the natural world was relatively new, but had already made very solid and quite impressive inroads into the public consciousness. No longer was a person pursuing research into the material world liable to excite unwelcome and potentially hazardous attention from religious authorities. The world was open at last to apparently limitless desire of humans to ask questions and seek answers.

Into that atmosphere was born Luke Howard, a scion of a stolid, solid, money-making Quaker (more accurately called "Dissenters") family. He was cursed with unquenchable curiosity in a relgious sect that valued the practical over the notional, and obedience over personal happiness. (Depressingly familiar, eh what?) His childhood fascination with clouds was subsumed into the coerced "need" that his wealthy father felt for Luke to have a trade.

Nonetheless, Luke pursued his passion for observing clouds, in time falling in with the other members of his age and class and religion who were among the vanguard of scientific researches (eg, William Allen, Richard Phillips, WH Pepys) at that moment, largely due to their cultural isolation from more mainstream pursuits by faith and the laws of the day. His friend and business partner William Allen had founded something called The Askesian Society, where Howard presented a lecture in December 1802 that set the world on its ear: He proposed and defended a naming system for the clouds that, with minor extensions, we use to this good day.

Not bad for a 30-year-old ne'er-do-well (per his father) who was pathologically shy and unwilling to be "famous."

It's a beautiful looking little book, in a landscape trim, illustrated with paintings, etchings, and drawings of the clouds; it's a nicely written explanation of the science of nephology (the study of clouds) and its relationship to meteorology (the study of weather overall); and it's just plain interesting to read about how outsiders and the marginalized have always, it seems, been the pointers to huge advances in the arts and sciences. show less

Davy, Newton, Marconi, Babbage, Ben Franklin, John Bartram, Fitzroy, Admiral Beaufort with his storm scale, Flavio Gioja with the gimballed compass, John Harrison and his efforts to build a practical chronometer to give us Longitude, Maury and his paths across the seas … what giants walked the earth then. And now we add the name of yet another dissenter (Quaker), Luke Howard whose brilliance gave us the nomenclature of clouds and Meteorology.

Giants of the Royal Society, a great story, well show more written and researched and charmingly presented with illustrations that make clear why this research and conclusion on the weather is so important .. and not just to English either! show less