Lately, I’ve been working my way through the complete works of science writer Sam Kean. I first became aware of Kean while I was programming Out Loud!, an author series produced by Metro Library Network in Cedar Rapids. We presented Kean in Cedar Rapids and—in collaboration with the Iowa City Book Festival—in Iowa City in July 2012, which coincided with the release of his second book, The Violinist’s Thumb: And Other Lost Tales of Love, War, and Genius, as Written by Our Genetic Code. The book was the follow-up to his 2010 debut release, The Disappearing Spoon: And Other True Tales of Madness, Love, and the History of the World from the Periodic Table of the Elements.
In 2010, a series of blog entries related to The Disappearing Spoon had appeared in the online magazine Slate, and my son Bryan (then in his early teens) and I had really enjoyed his work. So, I took advantage of the opportunity to present him (and let Bryan handle the introductory remarks to the audience in Cedar Rapids). Kean’s presentation was fascinating and funny, and as he signed copies of The Disappearing Spoon, he sketched in newly discovered elements that had been added to the periodic table since the book had been written. His enthusiasm for science—and the stories of the people who do scientific work—was palpable. His ability to talk about science in rigorous ways that are also accessible was notable.
For whatever reason (perhaps the aggressive rate at which I was reviewing books at the time), I didn’t actually get through either of Kean’s books that summer. In fact, I just came back to them last year on audio and thoroughly enjoyed both. That was more than enough to inspire me to keep going with books Kean has released in the intervening years.
The Disappearing Spoon investigates the world of chemistry via stories of discovery and competition. The Violinist’s Thumb takes a similar approach to the history of genetics. Both books are made up of individual stories about scientists and science that, taken together, reveal the arc of each disciple’s history.
Kean’s most recent release, The Icepick Surgeon: Murder, Fraud, Sabotage, Piracy, and Other Dastardly Deeds Perpetrated in the Name of Science, is not for those with a weak stomach. The book is a gripping examination of unscrupulous acts some scientists have committed over time—and the sometimes undeniably positive impacts those acts have had. Kean takes care to consider thorny ethical issues in the context of these stories.
Prior to the The Icepick Surgeon, Kean published The Bastard Brigade: The True Story of the Renegade Scientists and Spies Who Sabotaged the Nazi Atomic Bomb. The book is notable in that it focuses on physics—Kean’s first love—and tells a single story rather than a series of anecdotes. The book is excellent, often reading like a thriller as it explores an effort that, had it been successful, would have led to a very different ending to World War II.
Between The Violinist’s Thumb and The Bastard Brigade, Kean released two books that I haven’t gotten to just yet: The Tale of the Dueling Neurosurgeons: The History of the Human Brain as Revealed by True Stories of Trauma, Madness, and Recovery and Caesar’s Last Breath: Decoding the Secrets of the Air Around Us. I’m looking forward to both.
I’m also excited about Kean’s newest book, Dinner with King Tut: How Rogue Archaeologists Are Recreating the Sights, Sounds, Smells, and Tastes of Lost Civilizations, which comes out this July. The new book will immediately advance to a priority spot on my to-read list.
If you want to sample Kean’s work, you can find 60 pieces he’s written for Slate at Slate.com/author/sam-kean. You can also listen to his podcast, which, like his first book, is called The Disappearing Spoon.