Medieval science was not trying to understand the workings of a coldly mechanistic natural world but a living cosmos endowed by God. Even when, as we have seen, they saw the universe functioning as a predictable machine, they were less interested in how it worked than why. We may casually say that science explains ‘why’ nature is the way it is, but we often confuse ‘how?’ for ‘why?’ As any parent of a four-year-old knows, beyond every ‘why?’ lies another one. Medieval people hoped to follow that trail of ‘why?’s back to the mysteries of Creation, and mankind’s place in it. We don’t think of ourselves as backward, even though we – like the medievals – are well aware that there are questions we haven’t yet answered. And we would not like future generations to belittle us for failing to answer those we hadn’t – we couldn’t possibly have – posed.
This book was on my radar for a while, but I wondered whether it would cover a lot of the same ground as James Hannam's GOD'S PHILOSOPHERS, a high-level overview of the way medieval natural philosophers laid the foundations for the modern scientific method. This book turned out to be quite a different beast, however.
I was prompted to start reading in the course of drafting my current novel, which has a character using an astrolabe, and it turned out that several of the most helpful videos and blog posts on the topic were by Seb Falk, the author. In THE LIGHT AGES, Falk doesn't so much trace the roots of the modern scientific method in medieval natural philosophy; so much as tell the story of one very obscure monk, mathematician, astronomer and instrument-maker, using what few facts of his life are known, to show a picture of medieval education, mathematics, astronomy, timekeeping, medicine, travel by compass, and more in the fourteenth and surrounding centuries. But the central theme of the book is medieval mathematics: how it was done, why it was done, and how closely connected it was to the twin practices of what we now know today as astronomy and astrology. I'll be honest, much of the mathematics in this book drifted right over my head. I absolutely would have failed at medieval trigonometry, but that's hardly news!
Falk tells his story with engaging enthusiasm, especially in the audiobook, and when he wasn't avidly describing trigonometry, it was a really fun read. The more so as I had just finished Barbara Tuchman's 1978 history of the fourteenth century, A DISTANT MIRROR, in which she paints a picture of a century full of despair and horrors. By comparison, Falk's fourteenth century is a time of boundless curiosity, sophisticated educational systems, and immense technological strides - in fact, an age of light.
It's really only in the introduction and the epilogue that Falk ties his wander through the natural philosophy of the fourteenth century together with some commentary about what we today can learn from the story of one long-forgotten medieval inventor, but they alone are well worth the price of the book. Medievals lived in a world when faith was the motivation for science and although it's hard to tell from this book whether Falk is a believer himself or not, his contention is one that echoes thoughts I've long had myself: that science impoverishes itself when it cuts itself off from any larger worldview or questions about the "why"s of the universe and our place in it.