Saturday, February 12, 2011

"A Measure of All Things," by Ian Whitelaw

Humanity loves to quantify things. Measurement is a way of exerting order over an essentially chaotic environment. From the earliest days, we have sought ways to nail down just how big, or long, or tall, or fast, etc., something is. It’s a subject capable both of being fascinating and of being deadly dull.

So on that day in the dollar store when I found my copy of A Measure of All Things: the Story of Man and Measurement, by Ian Whitelaw, I was hopeful that I’d found a book and an author that took dry data and presented it in an appealing way. I was also worried that I’d found a book and an author that took dry data and dried it out more.

A quick perusal of the dust jacket gave me hope: Whitelaw is also the author of a book called Habitus Disgustica: The Encyclopedia of Annoying, Rude, and Disgusting Behavior.  I admired the minimalist simplicity of the cover design and dove right in.

Several hours later, all I could say was, “Why, oh why didn’t the dollar store have a copy of Habitus Disgustica on the shelf instead?”

Nibbling on a Ruler
Don’t get me wrong. A Measure of All Things is far from an awful book. On the contrary, Whitelaw has assembled a collection of measurement-related information that can be genuinely interesting. He begins with some background, examining some historical systems of measurement and continuing with a discussion of current systems, paying special attention to the rise of the metric system (and its failure to catch on in the U.S.).

Subsequent chapters examine measurements of length; area; volume and capacity; mass; temperature; time; speed; force and pressure; and energy and power. The final chapter serves as a sort of grab-bag, examining such miscellany as the heat of chili peppers, typography, ring sizes, and more.

Along the way, Whitelaw gives us some history, a smattering of explanation of how a given measurement is calculated, definitions of terminology, and an assortment of helpful diagrams. Most sections of the book give pride of place to the ways things are quantified by the Système International, or SI (the global system of measuring pretty much everything, which has its roots in the metric system but expands on it).

How to Measure This Book: By Its Breadth, Or By Its Depth?
After reading A Measure of all Things, I was left with a feeling of wistfulness for the book that it could have been. The book that it is has its rewards, to be sure — I’ll keep it on my shelf for those times when I need some piece of the information it contains — but Whitelaw has missed a golden chance to make the world of measurement entertaining instead of just informative.  We’re rarely told why a given measurement is called what it’s called, for example. Bottles of champagne that are larger than standard have a series of colorful names, many of them Biblical (e.g., the “Nebuchadnezzar,” which is a bottle that holds 15 liters of champagne, or the equivalent of 20 standard bottles); A Measure of All Things  lists the names and their capacities, but doesn’t tell us how those names came to be used. A missed opportunity, and one among several.

Moreover, the book feels a bit padded. Illustrations abound, some of them useful and necessary, but many of them superfluous (do we really need an illustration of a rectangle to show us the layout of an acre, for example?) In the end, it’s a useful book, but one that just doesn’t quite measure up.

(Sorry, I couldn’t resist.)

Worth a buck?
Yes, if only as a reference tool.
Worth full price?
Sadly, I don’t really think so. The missed opportunity stings too much. Fortunately, it’s easily findable at a deep discount.
Who would like this book:
Data geeks, guys looking for new ways to measure… things… to make them sound bigger, laymen with scientist friends whose cocktail conversation they’re struggling to understand
How to get it:
Widely available online.


Saturday, February 5, 2011

"Buttered Side Down," by Edna Ferber

This dollar-store book-review project has really brought home to me the fact that dreams have a shelf life, and sometimes that shelf life is painfully short. Still, writers have to keep on setting down words in a row, hoping that they’ll beat the odds and become a household name, a writer so well known that she needs no introduction. A writer whose career is so storied that no less an authority than the New York Times describes her as “among the best-read novelists in the nation.” A writer whose name echoes down through the generations. A writer like…

…Edna Ferber.

I sense a few readers nodding in recognition, and a whole lot more readers with their heads cocked to one side like a dog hearing a high-pitched noise. To that second group: really? You don’t know who Edna Ferber is? The woman won a Pulitzer Prize, for heaven’s sake. She was a member of the Algonquin Round Table. Still nothing?

Okay, have you heard of the movies Giant and Show Boat? Those movies were both adaptations of Ferber’s work. In fact, she was a best-selling writer whose career spanned more than fifty years. And yet, it’s probably not an exaggeration to say that many contemporary readers haven’t ever heard of her. For those of you who are unfamiliar with her work — or those of you who know only her novels — the 1912 short-story collection Buttered Side Down showcases another side of the prolific writer.

“Happily Ever After”? Not These Folks
Ferber got her start in journalism, working for the Milwaukee Journal. Her first piece of published fiction, in 1910, was the short story “The Homely Heroine” (which is one of the 12 stories included in Buttered Side Down). That story was a harbinger of Ferber’s stories to come; it featured several elements that turned the storytelling of the time on its head. For one thing, it rejected the impulse to make its protagonist a typically lovely, delicate flower of a woman, instead making her — well, let’s let Ferber tell it:


“She is ugly, not only when the story opens, but to the bitter end. In the first place, Pearlie is fat. Not plump, or rounded, or dimpled, or deliciously curved, but FAT. She bulges in all the wrong places, including her chin.”

That kind of arch, we-both-know-you’re-reading-a-story quality is characteristic of Ferber’s short fiction. She breaks the fourth wall with gleeful abandon in a way that will be familiar to fans of Scrubs or Neil Simon plays (not to mention this blog).

Also characteristic of her work is a rejection of the stereotypically happy ending. As the collection’s title suggests, Ferber’s characters don’t live happily ever after — at least not where we can see them do it. On the contrary, many of them turn away from storybook denouements in favor of their ordinary workaday existences. In her foreword to the collection, Ferber says, “[living happily ever after] is a great risk to take with one’s book-children. These stories make no such promises. They stop just short of the phrase of the old story writers, and end truthfully, thus: And so they lived.”

Slices of Life, Sliced with a Razor-Sharp Edge
Indeed, so they lived. Ferber’s characters include retail clerks, traveling salesmen, stenographers, ex-cons, and the like — not a single charming prince or fairy godmother among them. Moreover, the way they talk and look rings absolutely true (admittedly, these stories were written a hundred years ago, so the reader of today perforce must look at them through a haze of years; the time period is long enough to make them seem at once familiar and exotic). Sure, the dialog crackles with the rat-a-tat-tat energy often on display in old movies — I kept hearing Ferber’s heroines speaking with Katherine Hepburn’s voice — but it never sounds fake. The stories in this collection will leave you savoring the tart taste of vignette vinaigrette.




Buttered Side Down
By Edna Ferber
© 1912

Worth a buck?
Absolutely. It’s like a time capsule of witty repartee.
Worth full price?
It’s hard to say. My hardback Signature Press edition from the dollar store doesn’t have a price on it, and other hardback editions I’ve priced seem excessive for such a slender volume. However, the paperback price is quite reasonable, and the e-book price even more so.
Who would like this book:
Fans of slice-of-life fiction, fans of metafictional flourishes, fans of snappy banter
How to get it:
Widely available online.