Review by Booklist Review
Levesque, a professional astronomer and recently tenured professor at the University of Washington, tells stories of telescopes--from analog to digital to artificially intelligent--and the fewer than 50,000 people globally who devote their lives to looking through them and deciphering their revelations. This book is a well-organized account of astronomy's mechanics (accessible explanations of technologies and space phenomena), misadventures (funny, poignant, and invigorating narratives about astronomers past and present), and metaphorical resonance (the author describes eclipses as "mathematical poetry"). Readers will discover oddities ranging from why astronomers used to lick equipment to how astronomers measure ripples in space-time itself. Levesque is unabashedly passionate and reverent without ignoring the continued problems of racism, sexism, and settler colonialism present in science. She illuminates the field's culture in clear and enjoyable prose with a wonderfully earnest sense of humor. Rudimentary physics knowledge will enhance the reading experience, but it is not necessary. Childhood stargazers who have since become inquisitive adults, and any fans of Sagan's Cosmos, will devour this book.
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Levesque, a University of Washington astronomy professor, leads readers on a pilgrimage to observatories throughout the world in her wonderful debut. Having "been enraptured by space for as long as I remember," Levesque became set on astronomy as a career while studying at MIT among like-minded students and professors who similarly appreciated "the simple beauty of the sky." She blends these memories with profiles of huge telescopes, including the "beast of a machine" at Arizona's Kitt Peak National Observatory, Chile's cutting-edge Vera C. Rubin Observatory, and the mighty 630-ton Subaru Telescope atop Hawaii's highest mountain. Levesque describes her research on red supergiant stars, which led to a breakthrough about "how the insides of stars could work," and recalls how, before the widespread adoption of digital photography, astronomers like herself relied on glass photographic plates, working through the night to make adjustments by hand. Adding an Indiana Jones vibe, she recalls how, for her and others, astronomy has led to close calls with lightning strikes, volcanic eruptions, tarantulas ("actually fairly, shy, skittish, and fragile"), and scorpions (which "do pose a danger to astronomers"). This will particularly appeal to young women interested in science, but any stargazer would enjoy this joyous adventure through modern astronomy. (Aug.)
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Review by Library Journal Review
Introduced to the wonders of the night sky as a toddler using a telescope in her backyard, Levesque (astronomy, Univ. of Washington, decides to become an astronomer. Here she combines memoir with the science of astronomy, written for general readers. She shares her own experiences, as well as those of dozens of friends and colleagues who study the universe. She relates the changes in large telescope observation techniques that led to the ability to control telescopes in remote locations from an office laptop, along with the different kinds of equipment that record myriad data from the universe. Levesque also details the increased participation of women in the field, discoveries confirming hypotheses, and how carefully planned observing time at telescopes can be derailed by high winds or an errant cloud. She also touches on the controversy over a planned new telescope in Hawaii. VERDICT Levesque does a wonderful job explaining the science behind astronomy as she conveys the awe and beauty of the universe, the dedication of the people who study it, and the excitement of discovery in this fascinating account that will appeal to fans of narrative nonfiction and fellow stargazers.--Sue O'Brien, Downers Grove, IL
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Review by Kirkus Book Review
An astronomy professor captures the human stories--from the quirky to the luminous--of her discipline. Levesque, whose research "is focused on understanding how the most massive stars in the universe evolve and die," got her first taste of formidable telescopes while a student at MIT. Hardly an amateur endeavor, the author was dealing with serious, massively expensive machines--e.g., at Las Campanas Observatory in Chile, Kitt Peak in the Sonoran Desert, and Mauna Kea in Hawaii. Regardless of the gravity of her studies, there is plenty of romance and adventure in the recounting of her nights, whether she is standing in the cold beside the telescope looking through the eyepiece or contending with the giant tarantulas that find a home in the observers' room. In a bright voice, Levesque covers wide ground, observing details both atmospheric--"the dark cool nights, the quiet hum and shift of moving telescopes"--and mundane: "laboring through the repetitive and tiring efforts required to get the data in the first place." She tells fun stories of scorpions in the dormitories and swarms of ladybugs plaguing the telescopes, but she also looks at the history of sexism at the observatory and the cultural friction that may erupt around the positioning of a particular telescope. Perhaps where Levesque shines brightest is in her descriptions of the "raw human appeal" that comes from experiencing celestial phenomena, whether it's accessible (eclipses) or arcane (evidence of gravitational waves and gamma ray bursts). There are moments of gratifying serendipity in discovering a new star classification. However, the author suggests, today's remote viewing (i.e., the telescope in southern Argentina and the viewer in New York City), while a critical advancement regarding data collection, robs the thrill of making difficult journeys to distant telescopes. Entertaining, ardent tales from an era of stargazing that may not last much longer. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
