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Guy Murchie (Jr.) son of Ethel A. and Guy Murchie (Sr) was a Chicago Tribune photographer, staff artist and reporter, who had served as a war correspondent in England and Iceland from 1940 to 1942. He was briefly married to Barbara Cooney.
He was a flight instructor and a practising member of the Bahá'í Faith. His books included Men on the Horizon (1932), Song of the Sky (1954), Music of the Spheres (1961) and The Seven Mysteries of Life (1978). Murchie also illustrated his books with etchings and woodcuts of his own making. The American Museum of Natural History awarded him the John Burroughs Medal in 1956 for Song of the Sky.
What an interesting read--this WW2 navigator uses his memories of navigating the north Atlantic to delve into the world of weather and air. The science aspects were why I read this and it was pretty cool to get a feel for how and why things worked above and around us from the perspective of a navigator from the 1950s. As it was written in the 50s, the sexism, racism, and presumptions, and assumptions were pretty normative. There was also more than a few pages dedicated to god, jesus, biblical verse, etc. The philosophical meanderings coupled with the writer's biases from the 50s were definite turn-offs for me. But, that aside, his explanations of the science behind air and weather were pretty great. Definitely enjoyed it when he stayed focused.
Murchie can put into words why pilots love to fly, better than anyone other than Ernest K Gann. He explains in terms between science and art, between prose and poetry, everything from wind, clouds, waves, weather, lift, sound, sight, ... really all of the things that pilots can be too busy to notice, but that things that add depth to flight.
Reading this book is like watching a child open its' eyes to the world for the first time: curious, full of latent potential, and incredibly naive. Such are Murchie's musings on aviation in the 1950s. However, this treatise, with both good and ill results, transcends the subject of aviation. The philosophy tends to be archaic, some of the math is sketchy, the religious dogma is completely untenable, it is rife with bad metaphysics, bad science, anthropomorphism, and sexism, but there are elements of truth and some of the prose is incredibly beautiful. For a thorough understanding of modern aeronautical theory I would recommend something more contemporary; however, this is a good historical text on aerodynamics and weather theory. This book was a deep-dive, and I found myself constantly leaving the text to do internet searches on things like temperature variation within the atmosphere at various altitudes, the hang time of snowflakes, the flight dynamics of silk spiders (one of the most fascinating subjects), and the fluid dynamics of water and air. As the chapters mounted, the material became decidedly more metaphysically- and spiritually-oriented, and I became increasingly frustrated because this is clearly not Murchie's area of expertise. He's a phenomenal navigator and weather theorist, and a decent aerodynamicist, but he makes a terrible armchair philosopher. Nevertheless, there were many gems to be found within these pages.
"What better than the stars as object lessons in perspective-than birth for exercise in humility-than death for a seminar in giving?"
I like it! He waxes a bit poetic at times, but not in an overly sappy way. He really opens your eyes to the adventure to be had out there as an aerial navigator. The illustrations are wonderful, too. He explains some of the technical aspects in vibrant ways that give you an intuitive sense of what it is like.
I enjoyed this book. I am a wannabe pilot and I found his stories fascinating. At times I found myself lost in some of the scientific/technical aspects of "the sky" but kept on through the book. I imagine any pilot like Guy's book.
The best way of fully appreciating flying is to let not just its technology and science catch you, but also the mysticism emanating from the newness of it.
Hard to follow at times did to very long paragraphs and frequent and verbose explanations. I read it as I am looking for a historical view of the topic.
Mentioned in a few New York Times articles from 1995 that ties this book to credit omissions by Alexander Theroux for his book "The Primary Colors." Whatever the outcome of the crediting, Murchie's book is a wonderful compendium of navigation and air travel history from the very beginning of flight and before, to the then new industry of commercial air travel.
In addition, Murchie illustrated the book, and includes beautiful inside cover maps of "Winds of the World" and "Magnetic Variations of the World."
This is a memoir-cum-treatise on all things pertaining to aviation and the sky. The author was one of the first navigators in the private air service following the second World War, and he brings remarkable first hand knowledge to his descriptions and his intricate illustrations of the world of the air. What makes him one of my favorite authors, however, is his remarkable poetic style and insight.
Fabulous blend of aeronautics, aviation and natural history. It blends a love of flying and flying machines with the natural world and all creatures within it. One of my favorite books of all time.