Then again ? suppose the Italian lady’s husband were the kind of scientist who bats on about his research in dense jargon until she wants to scream. And suppose that the hands-across-the-cultures man told his spectroscopy story colourlessly ?
“Learning the stuff of which the stars are made ?” It sounds as if it ought to be exciting enough, but – and this is something many academics find difficult to grasp – bare facts do not speak except to those already in possession of a context and able to grasp their significance. (CRICK: “It’s a double helix!” WATSON: “Call Stockholm!”)
Gustav Kirchoff is certainly not a name like Albert Einstein or James B. Watson. He was however, a very distinguished scientist indeed. This is a piece of the Wikipedia article.
Gustav Robert Kirchhoff (March 12, 1824 ? October 17, 1887) was a German physicist who contributed to the fundamental understanding of electrical circuits, spectroscopy, and the emission of black-body radiation by heated objects. He coined the term “black body” radiation in 1862, and two sets of independent concepts in both circuit theory and thermal emission are named “Kirchhoff’s laws” after him.
But the article as a whole does nothing to inspire readers or lead them to see why Kirchoff’s spectrocopy laws opened up the universe. For that you need context, you need eloquence, and you need a rhetoric that bridges the gap between the scientific and the general reader. On my shelf are two recent general histories of science, John Gribbin’s Science: a History 1543-2001 (2002) and Bill Bryson’s A Short History of Nearly Everything (2003). Neither delivers. Bryson has nothing on Kirchoff himself and nothing, even, on spectroscopy. Gribbin covers Kirchoff, but the detail of finding sodium on the sun is just another detail in an evenly-paced exposition.
The moral is simple: we need someone to write up the story of how we discovered what the stars are made of – and the cultural story, for there’s bound to be one – of how the new knowledge was received in the period. Did it just add weight to the story of a mechanistic universe that unfolded from Newton on? I guess Kolb’s own book is the first place to go.
I don’t mean to find fault with either history, just to note that in a very small sample of widely-available readings (I roamed around the Web, as well) there’s nothing to bring a sparkle to our Italian lady’s eyes.