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A review by slow_spines
Helgoland: Making Sense of the Quantum Revolution by Carlo Rovelli
challenging
informative
mysterious
reflective
medium-paced
4.75
Its hard to imagine reading this book and not feeling like you have just been administered a heroic dose of awe.
The title of the book comes from the name of the island where a young Heisenberg, at the start of the twentieth century, made a breakthrough in physics. A breakthrough which spurred the best minds of his generation into developing a powerful theory with demonstrable - and infamous - results. A theory which, despite never once being incorrect, puzzled all those who grappled with it. How could it be true (a notion which itself is interrogated through the course of the book) when it suggests such strange things? This question - of how we should understand a few "basic" principles - still stands, 100 years later.
The course Rovelli charts is roughly this: the history of the science, the science itself, the ideas behind the science (and here, the heart of the book: a discussion of the relational reading of quantum mechanics), the history of the ideas, and finally a discussion of the mind-body problem: how to address the 'hard' problem of consciousness and couch meaning itself in physical terms. If your immediate response is anything other than "sounds insane, leave me alone", this will be a richly rewarding read. Try saying that 10 times in a row.
This is science and philosophy told with real excitement and warmth. Rovelli wants to communicate subtle and difficult ideas to the lay person, and, at least as far as the science goes, I don't think it could have been done better. My only gripe is in the final philosophical sections of the book. I enjoyed these a great deal but it is odd that in a book where he has been so careful and patient, he makes assumptions about the readers familiarity with basic philosophical ideas. Its a minor gripe, but there's a danger of getting lost here and missing the broader point Rovelli is wanting to make.
And what a point it is. The last section of the book, quoting Prospero's immortal lines, gave me goosebumps. In the days after finishing this book I have felt a profound and sometimes moving sense of wonder suffuse even the most banal situations. If that's not worth the price of admission, nothing is.
The title of the book comes from the name of the island where a young Heisenberg, at the start of the twentieth century, made a breakthrough in physics. A breakthrough which spurred the best minds of his generation into developing a powerful theory with demonstrable - and infamous - results. A theory which, despite never once being incorrect, puzzled all those who grappled with it. How could it be true (a notion which itself is interrogated through the course of the book) when it suggests such strange things? This question - of how we should understand a few "basic" principles - still stands, 100 years later.
The course Rovelli charts is roughly this: the history of the science, the science itself, the ideas behind the science (and here, the heart of the book: a discussion of the relational reading of quantum mechanics), the history of the ideas, and finally a discussion of the mind-body problem: how to address the 'hard' problem of consciousness and couch meaning itself in physical terms. If your immediate response is anything other than "sounds insane, leave me alone", this will be a richly rewarding read. Try saying that 10 times in a row.
This is science and philosophy told with real excitement and warmth. Rovelli wants to communicate subtle and difficult ideas to the lay person, and, at least as far as the science goes, I don't think it could have been done better. My only gripe is in the final philosophical sections of the book. I enjoyed these a great deal but it is odd that in a book where he has been so careful and patient, he makes assumptions about the readers familiarity with basic philosophical ideas. Its a minor gripe, but there's a danger of getting lost here and missing the broader point Rovelli is wanting to make.
And what a point it is. The last section of the book, quoting Prospero's immortal lines, gave me goosebumps. In the days after finishing this book I have felt a profound and sometimes moving sense of wonder suffuse even the most banal situations. If that's not worth the price of admission, nothing is.