When I saw this biography in the Deseret Book catalog, I was immediately intrigued. I love biographies … well, never mind; I don’t love biographies, not really. I love the idea of reading biographies. I love to think that instead of reading the fluffy drivel that usually ends up on my nightstand (Lasso Her Heart, anyone??), I’m reading to broaden my understanding, that I’m “keeping up in my field” (as a history major, just about anything with endnotes counts as “keeping up in my field,” I guess). But then when it comes down to it, despite my good intentions, I end up trudging a little bit through biographies, only averaging maybe one per year.
This one, however, was way less tedious than every other biography I’ve read (does that sound bad? I mean that in a good way. ;-) ) There were two main reasons why.
First of all was the subject. I first heard of Henry Eyring when my friend Mindy quoted him in her mission homecoming talk; she quoted a story (repeated in Mormon Scientist) about Henry Eyring. The book she read from was To Draw Closer to God (fantastic read, by the way), written by his son, current member of the First Presidency Henry B. Eyring. At this point in his life, Henry Eyring (the “Mormon Scientist”) was suffering with the cancer that would eventually take his life:
"Dad was the senior high councilor in his stake, and he had the responsibility for the welfare farm. An assignment was given to weed a field of onions, so Dad assigned himself to go work on the farm. He never told me how hard it was, but I have met several people who were with him that day. I talked to one of them on the phone, and he said … that the pain was so great that Dad was pulling himself along on his stomach with his elbows. He couldn’t kneel. The pain was too great for him to kneel. Everyone who has talked to me about that day has remarked how Dad smiled and laughed and talked happily with them as they worked in that field of onions.
"Now, this is the joke Dad told me on himself afterward. He said he was there at the end of the day. After all the work was finished and the onions were all weeded, someone said to him, “Henry, good heavens! You didn’t pull those weeds, did you? Those weeds were sprayed two days ago, and they were going to die anyway.”
"Dad just roared. He thought that was the funniest thing. He though it was a great joke on himself. He had worked through the day on the wrong weeds. They had been sprayed and would have died anyway.
"When Dad told me this story, I knew how tough it was. So I asked him, 'Dad, how could you make a joke out of that? How could you take it so pleasantly?' He said something to me that I will never forget, and I hope you won’t. He said, 'Hal, I wasn’t there for the weeds.'"
Such humility is certainly admirable — and not what you’d expect from a world-renowned chemist whose Absolute Rate Theory rewrote the textbooks, a man on par with some of the greatest scientific minds of the twentieth century. I found the scientific aspects of Henry Eyring’s life intriguing — history of science (especially in the 1930s, 40s, and 50s) is kind of my niche, I guess. He published hundreds of papers in all kinds of scientific fields; his ambition — and talent — was mind-boggling.
But even more interesting was how Eyring reconciled these two halves of his life which, according to some, might be contradictory. How could a man of great learning, a believer in science, remain true — even valiant — in his testimony of the gospel? What of evolution, of dinosaurs, of the earth being billions of years old? To Henry Eyring, there was no real contradiction — all truth is authored by God. Thus it is simply our understanding (of either science or religion) that needs to be altered:
"There are lots of things, of course, that science does not know, but to me the saddest thing I see is people who feel that science threatens them religiously. It could not possibly threaten us religiously, because the same God who “made” our religion, that same God is making the universe. Science might threaten our understanding of religion. I am not doubting that … We must get our religion in the kind of shape that it cannot be threatened by anything that science discovers or does not discover. (p. 241)"
In fact, Eyring seemed to feel that the more he learned of the world, the more it strengthened his faith:
"For one who feels compelled, as I do, to accept the existence of the Master Architect, it is important to examine His handiwork for he light it throws on Him and on His program for His children. (pp. 232-233)"
Additionally, interspersed between some of these poignant, sink-your-teeth-into-this thoughts were some great insights into the humor of this man. There were several times I found myself laughing out loud — not just at the anecdotes themselves but also of the way Henry Eyring would poke fun at himself. Though confident in his abilities, he really didn’t take himself too seriously — as evidenced by the photos of the seventy-year-old graduate dean racing his strapping young research assistants track-and-field style (complete with cheerleaders, marching band … even a few TV reporters). :lol:
So Henry Eyring — yeah, great man to read about.
But not only was the subject matter good — the writing was well-done, also.
Typically, it seems biographies all follow the same chronological pattern: following some quickie introduction, the reader then must slog through chapters upon chapters of family history before even reading about the subject (can you tell I don’t like this approach? :lol: )
Mormon Scientist, however, was not written chronologically. Rather, author Henry J. Eyring (grandson of Henry Eyring) arranged things thematically: there were chapters centered around certain topics (”science,” for example, or “faith”); there were chapters focused on personality traits (”love” and “ambition”).
I imagine it’s usually tricky for a reader to wrap his mind around such an approach — chronologically is usually the more logical route to take — but as the basic facts and framework of Eyring’s life was well explained in the introduction, I didn’t find this thematic method at all confusing. Actually, I rather appreciated the author’s attempts at weaving together many different quotes and anecdotes, boiling them down to an essential take-home principle or two; the whole biography felt very cohesive this way. And, in only the second chapter, I felt like I was reading the climax at the book instead of wading through all the “heritage” sections (these more slow-moving chapters were tucked away in the middle of the book — and even then, the author succeeded in making the reader see why Eyring’s family history was worth discussing, how it shaped Eyring himself).
All in all, this was a terrific biography: good subject (can’t wait to take Celestial Chemistry from Brother Eyring in heaven! ;-) ), well written … and uplifting, to boot. :-D