Richard Fortey (1946–2025)

Once I'd read Richard Fortey's Dry Storeroom No. 1 (review) I knew I'd be on the lookout for his earlier works. Trilobite: Eyewitness to Evolution (Vintage, 2001) is the first of those I stumbled across. Fortey, who spent a career studying trilobites, shares his enthusiasm with the fossilized critters, outlining their discovery, biology, habits, geography, you name it. He also offers up a survey of his predecessors in the field of trilobitology (each with their own quirks and foibles, of show more course), and describes many of the key scientific debates of the 20th century (plate tectonics, punctuated equilibrium, &c.)

Fortey is one of the best active writers of scientific narrative. His sense of humor and obvious enjoyment of his field of study are infectious, and although there are many detailed scientific descriptions and explanations, those never overpowered the narrative (and were fascinating to read). Plus, I greatly respect anyone who can use such delightful words as ruckle, beetling, fusty, boffin and sempiternally, and phrases like cobble of knobbles and pong of putrefacation (look them up, I did).

If you can read this book and not get at least a little itch to go out and crack open some slates looking for trilobites, you've got more will power than me.

http://philobiblos.blogspot.com/2009/07/book-review-trilobite.html show less

Before I read this book, I thought of trilobites as a slightly boring group of fossil arthropods, ubiquitous from the Cambrian to Permian periods, useful as index fossils but not exactly scintillating. Who could get excited about hundreds of petrified woodlice? Now I'm converted: they are really quite fascinating. Fortey is hugely enthusiastic, and his enthusiasm comes across well, even when explaining something as arcane as the optical properties of calcite. His style is eminently readable, show more if you can cope with arabesque flights of fancy, laced with fairly dreadful puns, and a slightly desperate thread of literary allusions. The book is disorganized, baroque, and constantly engaging; the author comes across as one of those mad scientists who is really quite sensible underneath.

MB 6-xi-2010 show less

I loved this book, but holy crap I can't believe it's taken me this long to read it. I don't think it's ever taken me this long to finish a book.

If you love museums, if you love natural history, if you've ever thought the idea of getting lost in the back rooms of a museum sounded like something you'd put on your bucket list, I think you'll enjoy this book. Mr. Fortey manages with very few words to make the reader feel like they've toured the back rooms of the Natural History Museum (London) show more and met some of the more colourful characters to have graced it's halls in the last several decades.

I'm definitely going to re-read this one at some point in the near future: I feel like I probably didn't do the book full justice by trying to read it while I'm on holiday and helping out my friend while her hand heals. The writing is dense and there's a lot to take in (in a good way) and I'd have gotten even more out of it had I been able to fully focus. But I did enjoy it thoroughly and would gladly recommend it. show less

"An awesome vista of geological time suddenly opens up before us, a vision of age after age of mountain-building, of continents remaking themselves, stretching far back into the distant reaches of the Precambrian. It should provoke a sense of our own insignificance, but it also stimulates a sense of wonder that we, alone among organisms, have been privileged to see these vanished worlds, and challenged to understand the immensity of time. A sudden squall makes us shiver, and turn up our show more collars."

This book is a delight. I chose it nearly at random, looking for a new popular science book -- I have no background in geology. Now I'm interested, where I wasn't before. Like the best popular science, it opens the layperson's eyes to a better understanding of the world, and gives one a glimpse of what it must be like to really know its particular field well.

Fortey is obviously trying to appeal to a broad readership, and I think he nearly succeeds. He takes pains, for instance, to explain that scientists whose ideas turned out to be wrong were not necessarily any less wise or important than those whose ideas turned out to be right. (Anyone who understands the scientific method shouldn't need to learn that lesson.) He's very good at incorporating human touches to the course of scientific history, both his own and others', and the book is surprisingly easy reading considering the amount of detail. Yet I suspect the subject matter is probably too dry for most, despite his efforts.

The chapters are organised by theme -- volcanoes, mountains, minerals, continents, etc. This works well, and means that the early chapters aren't just about old, discredited theories. It would probably be possible to dip in and out of the book without getting too lost.

The only criticism I would level is that his attempts to convey the "immensity of time" get him into trouble. What is described in one chapter as ever-changing, in slow but inevitable flux, is described in the next as permanent, eternal. Fortey's enthusiasm occasionally runs away with him, and he gets a bit self-contradictory.

This is only in regard to our perceptions of things, however. On the science itself, he is (so far as I can tell) rigorous, and he is certainly accessible. A great book. show less