Title: Uncle Tungsten

Author:  Oliver W. Sacks

Publisher:  Alfred A. Knopf

Edition: First Edition (Hardcover), 2001

Reviewed by:  Kevin J. Longo, Undergraduate

 

Review:  Dr. Oliver Sacks is a neurologist and an award-winning author.  He has written moving and insightful books on the strange and often humorous capacities and afflictions of the human mind.  One would hardly expect a solid book about chemistry to come from such a specialist, but he has succeeded in an area where many insiders have not.  He has written a memorable and inspiring account of the history of chemistry, accessible to anyone who has the least bit of curiosity for how nature works.

 

Oliver W. Sacks grew up in a Jewish neighborhood in London, England.  He was the youngest of four children, and lived in a large house.  Both of his parents were doctors who ended up serving England in World War II.  He had many aunts and uncles who were scientists, including his Uncle Dave, a chemist who worked in the light bulb industry.  This is Uncle Tungsten, the man who introduced Oliver Sacks to the world of chemistry.

 

Dr. Sacks had the unique privilege of learning about chemistry in the order in which it was originally discovered.  He repeated many of the famous early experiments, such as the electrochemistry of Davy, in a laboratory his parents allowed him to keep in an unused room in his home.  His Uncle Dave often gave him hints and materials on which to experiment.  Sacks also observes that he luckily grew up in a time when any schoolboy could buy a lump of sodium at the corner store, with only a “take care with this stuff” from the man behind the counter.

 

Considering this exciting childhood together with his ultimate career choice, the question arises as to why he did not decide to become a chemist.  He gives these reasons:  It was “understood” that he would become a doctor by his parents (this is not elaborated upon by Sacks); chemistry had become too inhuman and mathematical compared to the fun sights, sounds, and smells of the nineteenth century; and by the time he was an adolescent, he had become interested in other subjects.  Chemistry no longer had the “spark” for him: the excitement he felt as a child was somehow no longer there.

 

You need to read this book because you need to know how to prevent this from happening with yourself and with your own children.  With the possible exception of music and languages, immersion in a serious adult endeavor is not generally a healthy activity for a child.  Chet Raymo, longtime science writer for the Boston Globe, wrote that the best way to encourage enthusiasm in children about science is to share with them imaginative stories of all types (not just science).  Raymo’s idea shows some validity in this case, for although Uncle Tungsten did not push Oliver into chemistry, he should have recognized that a lifetime of interest and study was being expen-ded in twelve short years.

 

This book is also important for you, the undergraduate, because no matter who you are, there will always be children in your life.  They will look up to you as a chemistry major, and will never forget the times when you showed them something interesting about what you are learning, whether it is your 671st TLC plate, or a hole in your favorite jeans which just “appeared” the night after your NaOH titrations.  Always retain the wonder of a child, and never hesitate to share your experiences with people who treasure knowledge and discovery.  My niece, Sarah Faye Longo, is visiting this summer from Ohio.  My gift to her, as you might have expected, is a bar of tungsten.

 

In his epilogue, Dr. Sacks recounts the research which went into this book.  He writes that all the excitement of chemistry came back to him, 55 years later, as though he were again in his lab at his parents’ home.  He almost seems to hint regretfully that he could have enjoyed a career in chemistry, had he discovered it as an adult.  He seems to acknowledge the not-so-well-known fact that chemistry remains today the most interesting subject of all.