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Reviews for History Of The Telephone And Telegraph In Brazil, 1851-1921 (1922)

 History Of The Telephone And Telegraph In Brazil, 1851-1921 magazine reviews

The average rating for History Of The Telephone And Telegraph In Brazil, 1851-1921 (1922) based on 2 reviews is 3 stars.has a rating of 3 stars

Review # 1 was written on 2014-08-03 00:00:00
0was given a rating of 3 stars Justin Wittmann
Lewis Thomas is a warm and engagingly human writer on science. With wit, knowledge and scientific acumen he engages us in a holistic and ecologically responsible view of nature. His style is always so elegantly simple that even those of us who flunked senior year biology can look back, shake our heads, and wonder that we hyped-up teens ever viewed Science as hopelessly square. It’s not, you know. Because we ourselves are an extremely tiny part of a vast, breathing integrated whole which it is our DUTY to cherish and protect! Did I ever tell you my parents were dead set on my becoming a doctor - with such scientific training as Lewis Thomas had? It’s true! Imagine me, who daily gorged on fictional literary hot cakes for breakfast and longed to discover the recipe ingredients of those classics with my professors... Sweating mini bricks over my first year calculus course... me, who could never even master ALGEBRA? I kid you not. Well, suffice it to say that after the Christmas break, my head splitting, I was forced with my midterm results to hastily abandon the scientific ship - if I had half a snowball’s chance in Hades left of surviving Freshman Year. My parents were bitterly disappointed. I trudged ahead quietly. And then, that summer of 1969, they reacted to the awesome news that I had been awarded the university first place Prize for Freshman English by giving me an all-expense-paid trip for two - for me & a friend, to the Stratford Festival. Life Lesson number One: the suffering gravity of your conviction is often a necessary prelude to your golden return to Good Grace! IF you knuckle down with your own inborn talents... You know, I can’t tell you how happy I am now, with books like these, to understand science without so much as a smattering of calculus - Thanks to Lewis Thomas!
Review # 2 was written on 2012-03-22 00:00:00
0was given a rating of 3 stars Patricia A. Ready
I’ve been looking forward to reading this book for quite a while—partially because it has gotten such good reviews online, and partially because I like reading essays on biology. But now, after finishing it, I am both confused and disappointed. With most books, even if I don’t like them, I can still understand and appreciate what the author was trying to achieve. Not with this. The only thing I can think of that could have motivated Lewis Thomas to write this book is sheer egoism. He’s the kind of guy you wouldn’t want to be seated next to at a dinner party. He would talk your ear off, and I bet he laughed at his own jokes too. (When I try to imagine Lewis Thomas, I picture a paunchy, white-haired fellow with a round, ruddy face. He is in his New England home, furnished with dark oak furniture, dressed in a scarlet robe, sipping coffee and typing his essays. Thomas types in spurts—banging out a few sentences and then pausing to look out his window at his well-kept yard. He always has a smile on his face when he writes, and laughs under his breath every once in a while when he thinks he has been clever. And whenever he is particularly impressed with one of his own sentences, he calls his wife over, who is an expert in feigning enjoyment.) The best part of this book is the writing, but even here I think Thomas is irritating, vexing. He has the annoying habit of sticking in an extra tidbit after every sentence, like this. It is as if he always has something extra to say, an afterthought. After a while I just want him to shut up, be quiet. That he compared his style with Montaigne’s is obnoxious, offensive. Montaigne’s writing is free, easy; Thomas’s style is mannered, affected. Even if Thomas could be excused for being a middling writer, it is hard to excuse his vapid ideas. The real, solid biological information contained in this book could be found in any intro-level biology textbook. But instead of actually explaining this information, Thomas just uses his educational background to pepper his essays with technical terms that a layreader will have to look up. He has no interest in educating the public in his field, but only wishes to be admired for his broad learning. When Thomas strays away from these basic biological facts (which is often), the quality gets even worse. I would be willing to bet that, if Thomas was only slightly less intelligent, he would have ended up being a conspiracy theorist, and might have been given a show on the History Channel chasing aliens. I say this because these essays are filled with pseudo-science. Thomas repeatedly says that the majority of life on Earth is symbiotic, and this is true. But he fails to mention that the majority of these symbiotic relationships are parasitic—which undermines his rosy-eyed portrait of life on this planet, if you ask me. Thomas seems to think that it is a biological mistake when a virus makes its host sick. I have no idea how a doctor could believe this. Most normal symptoms of sickness—sneezing, coughing, runny nose, diarrhea—are ideal ways for a virus to spread. He also includes an essay on ways to train our internal organs, in the same way dogs can be trained. What?! Was he high when he wrote this? Wait a minute. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. Lewis Thomas was a stoner, which explains why many of these essays have intellectual sophistication comparable to Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure. Let me summarize one of his essays, “Living Language”: “Dude, what if, instead of language being a tool for humans, humans were a tool for language. Like, language is totally alive, for real! Woahhhh!” In fact, let me summarize the whole book: “Dude, what if, like, the world was really a cell. Not, like, metaphorically though, like for real. Like, wouldn’t that be trippy? Woaahhhh!” So I’m perplexed by the number of people who find Thomas to be “thought provoking”. I would say he is just about as thought provoking as a conversation with an intoxicated, college-aged biology major. To summarize, I am sincerely confused as to why people like this book. The writing is pompous, and the subject matter alternately frivolous, commonplace, or provably incorrect. Thomas might have made a good science fiction writer, but he is not a good science writer.


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