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The Universe Story: From the Primordial Flaring Forth to the Ecozoic Era--A Celebration of the Unfolding of the Cosmos
From the big bang to the present and into the next millenium, The Universe Story unites science and the humanities in a dramatic exploration of the unfolding of the universe, humanity's evolving place in the cosmos, and the boundless possibilities for our future.
320 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1992
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Displaying 1 - 26 of 26 reviews
August 1, 2008
For all who deeply feel the environmental crisis, this is the story we all need to understand as a grounding context for action to promote the transition to the Ecozoic era and to avoid the end of life guaranteed by the current Technozoic disaster. Powerful description of the current understanding of cosmology told as a compelling and understandable story. A must read. What you were not taught in school. The primordial coming forth of improbably life on a planet in a solar system which has always hung between disaster and brilliance. A way forward.
January 9, 2026
This book is not simply popular science, nor is it theology in the conventional sense, nor even environmental philosophy, though it touches all three. To read it comparatively is therefore to read it against several traditions at once: modern scientific cosmology, ancient mythic storytelling, religious cosmogony, and contemporary ecological ethics.
The book unfolds as an attempt to braid these strands into a single narrative capable of reorienting human consciousness in an age of planetary crisis. Its ambition is nothing less than to replace the fragmented worldview of modernity with a “new story” of the universe—one that is scientifically grounded yet spiritually resonant, empirical yet poetic, cosmic in scale yet ethically intimate.
At the heart of ‘The Universe Story’ lies the idea that the universe is not a static mechanism but a creative, unfolding drama. Swimme and Berry open with the “Primordial Flaring Forth,” their evocative term for what physics calls the Big Bang.
Already, the comparative stakes are clear. Where standard cosmology speaks in the language of singularities, inflation, and particle interactions, Swimme speaks of emergence, radiance, and generativity.
This is not a rejection of science but a translation of it into a symbolic register that recalls mythic beginnings—the Hindu cosmic egg, the biblical “Let there be light,” the Taoist arising of the ten thousand things. The comparison here is not merely stylistic.
It suggests that scientific cosmology, when stripped of its poetic dimension, becomes existentially inert, while myth, when severed from empirical grounding, becomes escapist. Swimme’s project is to restore their lost intimacy.
In this sense, ‘The Universe Story’ stands in implicit dialogue with earlier attempts to reconcile science and meaning, from Pierre Teilhard de Chardin’s ‘The Phenomenon of Man’ to Carl Sagan’s ‘Cosmos’.
Like Teilhard, Swimme sees evolution as directional—not in a simplistic teleological sense, but as a movement toward increasing complexity, consciousness, and relationality. Yet unlike Teilhard, whose Christian metaphysics often strain against scientific neutrality, Swimme adopts a more pluralistic stance.
His universe is not converging toward a singular Omega Point but toward what Berry calls the “Ecozoic Era,” a period in which human activity becomes mutually enhancing with the Earth’s life systems. Compared with Sagan, Swimme is less cautious about invoking interiority and value.
Where Sagan famously spoke of the “cold equations” of the cosmos softened by human wonder, Swimme suggests that wonder is not merely human projection but an intrinsic feature of the universe itself.
This attribution of interiority to the cosmos marks one of the book’s most controversial—and philosophically rich—moves. Swimme repeatedly implies that matter has an inner dimension, that atoms, stars, and galaxies participate in a form of proto-subjectivity.
In comparison with mainstream physics, this borders on heresy; yet when placed alongside process philosophy (Whitehead), panpsychism, or certain strands of Indigenous cosmology, it appears less radical. What ‘The Universe Story’ invites is a comparative shift in metaphysical intuition: from a universe composed of dead objects to one composed of active subjects.
This shift has ethical consequences. If the universe is a communion of subjects rather than a collection of objects, then exploitation becomes a metaphysical error, not merely a moral lapse.
The narrative arc of the book mirrors the scientific chronology of cosmic evolution: the formation of galaxies, the birth of stars, the forging of elements in stellar furnaces, the emergence of life on Earth, and the long evolutionary unfolding that leads to human consciousness. Yet Swimme’s telling transforms this chronology into a sacred epic. Each stage is presented not only as a physical process but as a moment of creative intensity, a deepening of the universe’s capacity for relationship.
In comparison with standard evolutionary accounts, which often emphasize competition and survival, Swimme foregrounds cooperation, symbiosis, and creativity. Evolution, in his telling, is less a battlefield than a dance—a view that aligns him with thinkers like Lynn Margulis and her theory of symbiogenesis.
This emphasis on relationality becomes particularly striking when Swimme turns to the emergence of life. Life is not portrayed as an accidental byproduct of chemical complexity but as a profound intensification of the universe’s self-organizing capacities.
Compared with reductionist biology, which seeks to explain life entirely in terms of molecular interactions, Swimme’s account resonates more closely with systems theory and Earth systems science. Life, he suggests, is the Earth’s way of participating in the larger cosmic drama, just as consciousness is the universe’s way of reflecting on itself.
Here the book enters into implicit comparison with humanistic traditions that see self-awareness as uniquely human. Swimme does not deny human uniqueness, but he relativizes it, placing humanity within a continuum rather than atop a hierarchy.
The human chapter of ‘The Universe Story’ is therefore both celebratory and chastening. Humans are described as “the universe in human form,” a phrase that recalls both mystical traditions and modern cosmology’s recognition that the elements in our bodies were forged in stars.
Yet this cosmic dignity is immediately juxtaposed with the ecological devastation wrought by industrial civilization. In comparison with Enlightenment narratives of progress, which frame technological expansion as the apex of human achievement, Swimme and Berry offer a counter-narrative: modernity as a pathological phase, marked by what Berry famously called the “Technozoic” delusion.
The problem is not technology per se but a worldview that severs technology from cosmological context and ethical restraint.
This critique becomes sharper when Swimme contrasts Indigenous cosmologies with modern industrial culture. Indigenous stories, he suggests, functioned as orientation devices, embedding human communities within a larger web of cosmic meaning. Modern society, by contrast, operates with a fragmented story—economics without ecology, technology without ethics, science without reverence.
The comparison is not romanticized; Swimme does not claim Indigenous societies were perfect or static. Rather, he argues that they possessed cosmological narratives capable of sustaining long-term ecological balance. The loss of such narratives in modernity has left humanity existentially disoriented, armed with immense power but little wisdom.
The proposed remedy is the “New Story” itself—a cosmological narrative grounded in contemporary science yet capable of evoking awe, responsibility, and care. In comparative terms, this is where ‘The Universe Story’ diverges most sharply from conventional environmentalism.
Unlike policy-driven or technocratic approaches to ecological crisis, Swimme and Berry insist that the crisis is fundamentally cultural and spiritual. Carbon emissions and biodiversity loss are symptoms; the disease is a worldview that denies the sacredness of the Earth. This diagnosis places the book closer to deep ecology and ecological spirituality than to mainstream environmental science, though it draws heavily on the latter for its factual basis.
The Ecozoic Era, envisioned as the next phase of Earth history, serves as both culmination and invitation. It is not predicted as an inevitability but proposed as a possibility—one that depends on a transformation of human consciousness.
Compared with utopian futurisms that imagine salvation through technological mastery (geoengineering, space colonization), the Ecozoic vision is radically Earth-centered. It calls for a re-embedding of human economies, cultures, and aspirations within the limits and rhythms of the planet. This vision resonates with contemporary movements such as degrowth, regenerative agriculture, and rights-of-nature jurisprudence, though Swimme’s framing is more mythic than political.
Stylistically, ‘The Universe Story’ oscillates between scientific exposition and lyrical meditation. This hybridity can be disorienting for readers expecting either rigorous academic argument or pure poetic reverie. In comparison with academic cosmology texts, the book sacrifices precision for resonance; in comparison with spiritual literature, it grounds its vision in empirical data.
This in-between quality is both its greatest strength and its most frequent point of critique. Skeptical readers may accuse Swimme of anthropomorphizing the cosmos or smuggling metaphysics into science. Devotional readers may find the scientific passages dry or insufficiently transcendent.
Yet it is precisely this tension that gives the book its distinctive power. It refuses the modern division between fact and value, insisting that how we tell the story of the universe shapes how we live within it.
Comparatively, one might say that ‘The Universe Story’ functions as a modern epic, analogous to ancient cosmologies but forged from contemporary knowledge.
Where the ‘Enuma Elish’ legitimized Babylonian kingship and Genesis articulated a covenantal worldview, Swimme’s epic seeks to legitimate ecological responsibility. Its heroes are not warriors or patriarchs but stars, cells, and ecosystems. Its moral is not obedience or conquest but participation and care. In this sense, the book is less about explaining the universe than about transforming the reader’s relationship to it.
The question that inevitably arises is whether such a narrative can truly reshape collective consciousness. Compared with the scale and inertia of global capitalism, Swimme’s vision may appear idealistic. Stories alone do not dismantle fossil fuel industries or reverse climate change. Yet Swimme and Berry would counter that without a new story, technical solutions remain superficial and unstable.
History offers some support for this claim: major civilizational shifts—from agricultural societies to industrial ones—were accompanied by profound changes in cosmology and self-understanding. If humanity is to navigate the ecological bottleneck of the twenty-first century, a comparable shift may indeed be required.
In the end, ‘The Universe Story’ is best understood not as a final answer but as an opening gesture. It invites comparison rather than closure, dialogue rather than dogma. Its universe is unfinished, its future undecided.
By placing human life within a 13.8-billion-year drama of creativity and destruction, Swimme offers both humility and hope. Humility, because we are latecomers in a vast unfolding we did not initiate. Hope, because the universe that brought forth stars, life, and consciousness may yet bring forth a way of living that honors its own depths.
To read ‘The Universe Story’ comparatively is to recognize it as a bridge—between science and myth, fact and value, knowledge and wisdom.
Whether humanity crosses that bridge remains the open question at the heart of Swimme’s cosmic celebration.
A peach of a book. Go for it.
The book unfolds as an attempt to braid these strands into a single narrative capable of reorienting human consciousness in an age of planetary crisis. Its ambition is nothing less than to replace the fragmented worldview of modernity with a “new story” of the universe—one that is scientifically grounded yet spiritually resonant, empirical yet poetic, cosmic in scale yet ethically intimate.
At the heart of ‘The Universe Story’ lies the idea that the universe is not a static mechanism but a creative, unfolding drama. Swimme and Berry open with the “Primordial Flaring Forth,” their evocative term for what physics calls the Big Bang.
Already, the comparative stakes are clear. Where standard cosmology speaks in the language of singularities, inflation, and particle interactions, Swimme speaks of emergence, radiance, and generativity.
This is not a rejection of science but a translation of it into a symbolic register that recalls mythic beginnings—the Hindu cosmic egg, the biblical “Let there be light,” the Taoist arising of the ten thousand things. The comparison here is not merely stylistic.
It suggests that scientific cosmology, when stripped of its poetic dimension, becomes existentially inert, while myth, when severed from empirical grounding, becomes escapist. Swimme’s project is to restore their lost intimacy.
In this sense, ‘The Universe Story’ stands in implicit dialogue with earlier attempts to reconcile science and meaning, from Pierre Teilhard de Chardin’s ‘The Phenomenon of Man’ to Carl Sagan’s ‘Cosmos’.
Like Teilhard, Swimme sees evolution as directional—not in a simplistic teleological sense, but as a movement toward increasing complexity, consciousness, and relationality. Yet unlike Teilhard, whose Christian metaphysics often strain against scientific neutrality, Swimme adopts a more pluralistic stance.
His universe is not converging toward a singular Omega Point but toward what Berry calls the “Ecozoic Era,” a period in which human activity becomes mutually enhancing with the Earth’s life systems. Compared with Sagan, Swimme is less cautious about invoking interiority and value.
Where Sagan famously spoke of the “cold equations” of the cosmos softened by human wonder, Swimme suggests that wonder is not merely human projection but an intrinsic feature of the universe itself.
This attribution of interiority to the cosmos marks one of the book’s most controversial—and philosophically rich—moves. Swimme repeatedly implies that matter has an inner dimension, that atoms, stars, and galaxies participate in a form of proto-subjectivity.
In comparison with mainstream physics, this borders on heresy; yet when placed alongside process philosophy (Whitehead), panpsychism, or certain strands of Indigenous cosmology, it appears less radical. What ‘The Universe Story’ invites is a comparative shift in metaphysical intuition: from a universe composed of dead objects to one composed of active subjects.
This shift has ethical consequences. If the universe is a communion of subjects rather than a collection of objects, then exploitation becomes a metaphysical error, not merely a moral lapse.
The narrative arc of the book mirrors the scientific chronology of cosmic evolution: the formation of galaxies, the birth of stars, the forging of elements in stellar furnaces, the emergence of life on Earth, and the long evolutionary unfolding that leads to human consciousness. Yet Swimme’s telling transforms this chronology into a sacred epic. Each stage is presented not only as a physical process but as a moment of creative intensity, a deepening of the universe’s capacity for relationship.
In comparison with standard evolutionary accounts, which often emphasize competition and survival, Swimme foregrounds cooperation, symbiosis, and creativity. Evolution, in his telling, is less a battlefield than a dance—a view that aligns him with thinkers like Lynn Margulis and her theory of symbiogenesis.
This emphasis on relationality becomes particularly striking when Swimme turns to the emergence of life. Life is not portrayed as an accidental byproduct of chemical complexity but as a profound intensification of the universe’s self-organizing capacities.
Compared with reductionist biology, which seeks to explain life entirely in terms of molecular interactions, Swimme’s account resonates more closely with systems theory and Earth systems science. Life, he suggests, is the Earth’s way of participating in the larger cosmic drama, just as consciousness is the universe’s way of reflecting on itself.
Here the book enters into implicit comparison with humanistic traditions that see self-awareness as uniquely human. Swimme does not deny human uniqueness, but he relativizes it, placing humanity within a continuum rather than atop a hierarchy.
The human chapter of ‘The Universe Story’ is therefore both celebratory and chastening. Humans are described as “the universe in human form,” a phrase that recalls both mystical traditions and modern cosmology’s recognition that the elements in our bodies were forged in stars.
Yet this cosmic dignity is immediately juxtaposed with the ecological devastation wrought by industrial civilization. In comparison with Enlightenment narratives of progress, which frame technological expansion as the apex of human achievement, Swimme and Berry offer a counter-narrative: modernity as a pathological phase, marked by what Berry famously called the “Technozoic” delusion.
The problem is not technology per se but a worldview that severs technology from cosmological context and ethical restraint.
This critique becomes sharper when Swimme contrasts Indigenous cosmologies with modern industrial culture. Indigenous stories, he suggests, functioned as orientation devices, embedding human communities within a larger web of cosmic meaning. Modern society, by contrast, operates with a fragmented story—economics without ecology, technology without ethics, science without reverence.
The comparison is not romanticized; Swimme does not claim Indigenous societies were perfect or static. Rather, he argues that they possessed cosmological narratives capable of sustaining long-term ecological balance. The loss of such narratives in modernity has left humanity existentially disoriented, armed with immense power but little wisdom.
The proposed remedy is the “New Story” itself—a cosmological narrative grounded in contemporary science yet capable of evoking awe, responsibility, and care. In comparative terms, this is where ‘The Universe Story’ diverges most sharply from conventional environmentalism.
Unlike policy-driven or technocratic approaches to ecological crisis, Swimme and Berry insist that the crisis is fundamentally cultural and spiritual. Carbon emissions and biodiversity loss are symptoms; the disease is a worldview that denies the sacredness of the Earth. This diagnosis places the book closer to deep ecology and ecological spirituality than to mainstream environmental science, though it draws heavily on the latter for its factual basis.
The Ecozoic Era, envisioned as the next phase of Earth history, serves as both culmination and invitation. It is not predicted as an inevitability but proposed as a possibility—one that depends on a transformation of human consciousness.
Compared with utopian futurisms that imagine salvation through technological mastery (geoengineering, space colonization), the Ecozoic vision is radically Earth-centered. It calls for a re-embedding of human economies, cultures, and aspirations within the limits and rhythms of the planet. This vision resonates with contemporary movements such as degrowth, regenerative agriculture, and rights-of-nature jurisprudence, though Swimme’s framing is more mythic than political.
Stylistically, ‘The Universe Story’ oscillates between scientific exposition and lyrical meditation. This hybridity can be disorienting for readers expecting either rigorous academic argument or pure poetic reverie. In comparison with academic cosmology texts, the book sacrifices precision for resonance; in comparison with spiritual literature, it grounds its vision in empirical data.
This in-between quality is both its greatest strength and its most frequent point of critique. Skeptical readers may accuse Swimme of anthropomorphizing the cosmos or smuggling metaphysics into science. Devotional readers may find the scientific passages dry or insufficiently transcendent.
Yet it is precisely this tension that gives the book its distinctive power. It refuses the modern division between fact and value, insisting that how we tell the story of the universe shapes how we live within it.
Comparatively, one might say that ‘The Universe Story’ functions as a modern epic, analogous to ancient cosmologies but forged from contemporary knowledge.
Where the ‘Enuma Elish’ legitimized Babylonian kingship and Genesis articulated a covenantal worldview, Swimme’s epic seeks to legitimate ecological responsibility. Its heroes are not warriors or patriarchs but stars, cells, and ecosystems. Its moral is not obedience or conquest but participation and care. In this sense, the book is less about explaining the universe than about transforming the reader’s relationship to it.
The question that inevitably arises is whether such a narrative can truly reshape collective consciousness. Compared with the scale and inertia of global capitalism, Swimme’s vision may appear idealistic. Stories alone do not dismantle fossil fuel industries or reverse climate change. Yet Swimme and Berry would counter that without a new story, technical solutions remain superficial and unstable.
History offers some support for this claim: major civilizational shifts—from agricultural societies to industrial ones—were accompanied by profound changes in cosmology and self-understanding. If humanity is to navigate the ecological bottleneck of the twenty-first century, a comparable shift may indeed be required.
In the end, ‘The Universe Story’ is best understood not as a final answer but as an opening gesture. It invites comparison rather than closure, dialogue rather than dogma. Its universe is unfinished, its future undecided.
By placing human life within a 13.8-billion-year drama of creativity and destruction, Swimme offers both humility and hope. Humility, because we are latecomers in a vast unfolding we did not initiate. Hope, because the universe that brought forth stars, life, and consciousness may yet bring forth a way of living that honors its own depths.
To read ‘The Universe Story’ comparatively is to recognize it as a bridge—between science and myth, fact and value, knowledge and wisdom.
Whether humanity crosses that bridge remains the open question at the heart of Swimme’s cosmic celebration.
A peach of a book. Go for it.
May 23, 2015
Everyone should read this more than once. It's a modern myth, deeply rooted in the latest science and cosmology, which discusses how our universe burst forth from a spacetime singularity, how it evolved, and what role humans play in the grand scheme of unfolding creation.
It's an inspirational blend of object and subject, secular and sacred, science and poetry. It celebrates the universe as an awesome, self-organizing, autopoetic process which undergoes distinct and irreversible phases of transformation.
It's also a call for humanity to come together, to recognize the unity of all things, and to celebrate the universe as a magnificent, cosmogenetic process, a work of art in which we act simultaneously as witness and participant.
I haven't read anything quite like The Universe Story. Its praise of the universe as an evolving, creative force engenders feelings of reverence, humility, gratitude, harmony, awe, and peace. If we could all learn to contemplate this cosmic perspective more often, the planet would be a much healthier place.
It's an inspirational blend of object and subject, secular and sacred, science and poetry. It celebrates the universe as an awesome, self-organizing, autopoetic process which undergoes distinct and irreversible phases of transformation.
It's also a call for humanity to come together, to recognize the unity of all things, and to celebrate the universe as a magnificent, cosmogenetic process, a work of art in which we act simultaneously as witness and participant.
I haven't read anything quite like The Universe Story. Its praise of the universe as an evolving, creative force engenders feelings of reverence, humility, gratitude, harmony, awe, and peace. If we could all learn to contemplate this cosmic perspective more often, the planet would be a much healthier place.
February 11, 2017
This book was disappointing. I expected that I would enjoy it, or at least glean something positive from it, but I just couldn't stand it. First off, this book is pretty epic in scope. It starts with the big bang and goes all the way to the modern era. My main problem with the book is this; it personifies everything. It is irritating to read about the universe itself having a will and sentience. What does it do with these qualities you ask? It goes and creates galaxies and other things. It speaks of single-celled organisms having a will. The science is accurate, which makes this even more aggravating. Step by step, it talks about how life developed. It talks about the "Cybernetic system" so many times that you can make a drinking game out of it.
When I say it personifies everything, it does so by giving everything a name. The supernova preceding the solar system and our sun? Let's call it Tiamat! The first living being is a prokaryotic cell? Why don't we call it Aries? No, not after the Greek God of War, silly; we named him after some Egyptian thing. Not to belittle Egyptian mythology, which is actually awesome, but when you combine the two ideas of science and mythology it just irritates me.
I am used to the idea of the Universe being the end result of a number of stochastic processes. Just random stuff being reined in by some basic laws like Gravitation and the three other fundamental forces. When you personify the universe, it should be really compelling, but it isn't. I understand that there is a delicate Goldilocks zone that makes our entire existence possible. If Gravity was just slightly stronger, if we were just slightly further from or closer to our Sun, Life would not have happened. That doesn't mean you need to explain it by gving the Universe sentience.
Thankfully I got this book from the Library and didn't pay anything for it.
When I say it personifies everything, it does so by giving everything a name. The supernova preceding the solar system and our sun? Let's call it Tiamat! The first living being is a prokaryotic cell? Why don't we call it Aries? No, not after the Greek God of War, silly; we named him after some Egyptian thing. Not to belittle Egyptian mythology, which is actually awesome, but when you combine the two ideas of science and mythology it just irritates me.
I am used to the idea of the Universe being the end result of a number of stochastic processes. Just random stuff being reined in by some basic laws like Gravitation and the three other fundamental forces. When you personify the universe, it should be really compelling, but it isn't. I understand that there is a delicate Goldilocks zone that makes our entire existence possible. If Gravity was just slightly stronger, if we were just slightly further from or closer to our Sun, Life would not have happened. That doesn't mean you need to explain it by gving the Universe sentience.
Thankfully I got this book from the Library and didn't pay anything for it.
March 13, 2018
Wow: This is a lyrical account of cosmology from the time of the very beginning until now. Brian Swimme and Thomas Berry have teamed up well in this sweeping history which summarizes current scientific understanding of traditional cosmology and other natural sciences with human history. Their account is a fresh spin of spirituality as people have come to make sense of their world and lives. Thus, they tell a modern history which calls forth the future -- either as technologically dominated or as ecologically focused.
I only have one fault with the book: their claim that no amphibian lives in the desert -- I give you spadefoot toads. (I am glad they did not also claim no fish live in trees or on land -- I give you mudskippers...Evolution is a tricky mistress.)
At any rate, the book is delightful and very important. I believe this is the direction many intellectuals are headed -- making a whole of traditionally separate fields of study, especially as we face new and all encompassing challenges. Highly recommended.
I only have one fault with the book: their claim that no amphibian lives in the desert -- I give you spadefoot toads. (I am glad they did not also claim no fish live in trees or on land -- I give you mudskippers...Evolution is a tricky mistress.)
At any rate, the book is delightful and very important. I believe this is the direction many intellectuals are headed -- making a whole of traditionally separate fields of study, especially as we face new and all encompassing challenges. Highly recommended.
February 8, 2009
A 250 page book of amazing scope from the earliest moments of the universe though billions of years to the rise of world governing bodies that argues for a fundamental shift from human-first to earth-first perspective. Swimme and Berry do a great job of highlighting the primordial "self organizing principles" that have guided and bound the entire course of the universe story.
August 26, 2011
The authors trace our presence back to the beginnings of the universe (Big Bang and the "flaring forth"). In a summary way, the book unravels the journey stage by stage, moving from matter and energy to life, to the development of life on earth, and then to human civilization (including its negative impacts on earth).
The authors theme is that humans reflect an underlying, universal pattern to come together, to form communities, to bond with the other. With gravity and the curvature of the universe, the authors write, all things are held together by "an intimate presence of all things to each other, each thing sustained in its being by everything else." This book is about the unfolding of this primordial impulse to come together.
This is one half of the story. The other half of life's impulse is not so nice. Life needs energy. Predators need prey. Ecosystems are communities where life consumes and incorporates the other as well as forming mutually beneficial relationships. Humans reflect this fuller dynamic, with many pushing for self-oriented advantage at the expense of others if need be, and with many others who form relationships based on love and compassion or mutual benefit.
The authors are not unaware of this. They note the violence of our civilized history, but this is contrasted with our neolithic past where there was equality and life was peaceful. That history is debatable. Rather than that either-or contrast, civilized conflict and violence may be an intensification of what has always been a part of our history. A truer picture might be that the universal and life impulse is better reflected, for example, by Vishnu (the Preserver) and Shiva (the Destroyer) where there is a perpetual battle between love and hate, between those who look after others and those who only seek self-advantage. Community, along the lines the authors' suggest, then becomes much harder to achieve. Is community formed and maintained only by love or does it also require in many instances active resistance against those who do not see the world the same way? Pleas for reason and love seldom work against those without an impulse for peace. Sometimes rebellion and war are necessary.
The authors theme is that humans reflect an underlying, universal pattern to come together, to form communities, to bond with the other. With gravity and the curvature of the universe, the authors write, all things are held together by "an intimate presence of all things to each other, each thing sustained in its being by everything else." This book is about the unfolding of this primordial impulse to come together.
This is one half of the story. The other half of life's impulse is not so nice. Life needs energy. Predators need prey. Ecosystems are communities where life consumes and incorporates the other as well as forming mutually beneficial relationships. Humans reflect this fuller dynamic, with many pushing for self-oriented advantage at the expense of others if need be, and with many others who form relationships based on love and compassion or mutual benefit.
The authors are not unaware of this. They note the violence of our civilized history, but this is contrasted with our neolithic past where there was equality and life was peaceful. That history is debatable. Rather than that either-or contrast, civilized conflict and violence may be an intensification of what has always been a part of our history. A truer picture might be that the universal and life impulse is better reflected, for example, by Vishnu (the Preserver) and Shiva (the Destroyer) where there is a perpetual battle between love and hate, between those who look after others and those who only seek self-advantage. Community, along the lines the authors' suggest, then becomes much harder to achieve. Is community formed and maintained only by love or does it also require in many instances active resistance against those who do not see the world the same way? Pleas for reason and love seldom work against those without an impulse for peace. Sometimes rebellion and war are necessary.
August 11, 2015
A unique and remarkable book. As the title indicates, it's nothing less than an attempt to relay the story of the universe, and thus to locate ourselves in the cosmic scope of things. The prologue alone is worth the price of admission, as it does all that in just a few pages.
The book that follows simply recapitulates the prologue in greater detail. The first chapter covers the Big Bang. The second chapter is on the emergence of galaxies. The third chapter is on supernovae. The fourth chapter is on our star, the sun. The fifth chapter is about Earth and the emergence of bacterial life here. The sixth chapter covers the evolution of eukaryotes — you know, cellular life with a well-organized nucleus. The seventh chapter talks about plants and animals.
We get to human beings in the eighth chapter, and after this it's all about us, with chapters on the neolithic village, classical civilizations, the rise of nations, the revelations of modern science, and a speculative chapter about what comes next.
The scale is epic, though as you might discern, each chapter covers an increasingly briefer time period than the one before. This creates the effect of a long, slow "zoom" to the present. In each chapter, the authors do their best not merely to explain what happened, but to understand what it all means. For example, what is the meaning of the emergence of hydrogen? Thus I found the first three chapters especially abstract and dense and difficult. The closer we "zoomed in" to the present, the more it clicked with me.
It's worth noting that, despite the fact that one of the authors was a Catholic priest of some renown, this is not a Christian book per se. In fact, I was led to this book by the decidedly Pagan writings of Glenys D. Livingstone. The perspective offered here is best described as "meta-religious," to use the authors' own terms. Personally, I find this "biggest picture" perspective a refreshing, rare, and much-needed dose of good medicine. Highly recommended to seekers of all stripes.
The book that follows simply recapitulates the prologue in greater detail. The first chapter covers the Big Bang. The second chapter is on the emergence of galaxies. The third chapter is on supernovae. The fourth chapter is on our star, the sun. The fifth chapter is about Earth and the emergence of bacterial life here. The sixth chapter covers the evolution of eukaryotes — you know, cellular life with a well-organized nucleus. The seventh chapter talks about plants and animals.
We get to human beings in the eighth chapter, and after this it's all about us, with chapters on the neolithic village, classical civilizations, the rise of nations, the revelations of modern science, and a speculative chapter about what comes next.
The scale is epic, though as you might discern, each chapter covers an increasingly briefer time period than the one before. This creates the effect of a long, slow "zoom" to the present. In each chapter, the authors do their best not merely to explain what happened, but to understand what it all means. For example, what is the meaning of the emergence of hydrogen? Thus I found the first three chapters especially abstract and dense and difficult. The closer we "zoomed in" to the present, the more it clicked with me.
It's worth noting that, despite the fact that one of the authors was a Catholic priest of some renown, this is not a Christian book per se. In fact, I was led to this book by the decidedly Pagan writings of Glenys D. Livingstone. The perspective offered here is best described as "meta-religious," to use the authors' own terms. Personally, I find this "biggest picture" perspective a refreshing, rare, and much-needed dose of good medicine. Highly recommended to seekers of all stripes.
January 4, 2019
The first half of this book, devoted to the story of the universe creating itself, is awe-inspiring; almost magical. It is the synthesis of narratives from physics, astronomy, biogeochemistry, and natural history imbued with a tone of religious reverence. By establishing the processes at work in the world as not mere local events but as activities of the universe itself, the authors provide an understanding of science which does not dismiss the experienced, aesthetic, and sacred elements of existence but enhances them instead, something which is desperately needed to restore the wonder and curiosity of science to itself. The Cosmogenetic Principle and its components, named in Berry's The Dream of the Earth, are now related to their presence and action in history and to our present existence.
Unfortunately the second half of the book isn't held together very well. It summarizes human history but fails to tie it back to the cosmic perspective established previously. In spite of this, the insights of the first half are more than enough to make this a masterpiece of cosmology.
Unfortunately the second half of the book isn't held together very well. It summarizes human history but fails to tie it back to the cosmic perspective established previously. In spite of this, the insights of the first half are more than enough to make this a masterpiece of cosmology.
January 27, 2013
Read this for an Indian philosophy class. I found this book to be very philosophically comforting. Great read. Highly recommend to everyone who wants to think a bit. The book may not present both sides of the coin, but it's still worth reading & thinking about.
November 12, 2008
My review of this book is on my blog here.
July 9, 2018
Truly the story of the universe - from the "flaring forth" to the present day. Begins with the development of the first atom and ends with the sobering thought of our Earth in decay. This should be mandatory reading in schools so kids leave knowing that our mother, our home, Earth - is not immortal, and neither are they and that everyday on this beautiful planet is nothing short of a miracle. The future depends on our ability to change...everything. Change is not just good, it is vital...or else.
January 26, 2017
An interesting account of the geologic and life history of the universe. Facts are all OK.
The thesis is that all development is "natural and inevitable" - a process of evolution.
The authors believe that humans are the enemy of life and of the earth, and must modify their behavior to avoid disaster.
But this contradicts the basic thesis that whatever happens is "natural". Are humans the only exception to the "Natural and inevitable"?
The thesis is that all development is "natural and inevitable" - a process of evolution.
The authors believe that humans are the enemy of life and of the earth, and must modify their behavior to avoid disaster.
But this contradicts the basic thesis that whatever happens is "natural". Are humans the only exception to the "Natural and inevitable"?
January 14, 2023
A beautiful, compelling and extraordinary story of how we came to be. Commingling the astrophycial perspective of Brian Swimme and the cultural imagination of Thomas Berry into a glorious synthesis of cosmic proportions. This is one of the most powerful stories ever told!
March 14, 2025
This is our story :) I wonder who you are in the midst of all
October 27, 2019
This was a wonderful book to take my time with, mulling over the concepts and allowing their meaning to sink in. I love a book that challenges and yet leaves you feeling hopeful. I began this just before reading The Universe if a Green Dragon, and then continued on with it once I'd finished the smaller book. There is such beauty and sense in the way this story has been told, so full of quotable quotes! As I finished the book I felt connected again, and better able to accept the risks of creativity in life on a personal level, and also to see and move closer to acceptance with regard to how the risk of creativity unfolds in the larger context of human society. My conclusion: a very special book.
April 9, 2015
I love science but I am not a scientist unfortunately. However, the style adopted by the author is very engaging and does not demand too much from the reader as far as previous scientific knowledge is concerned. They adopt a story telling approach to the whole mystery of life on earth, almost to the point of assuming a mythical quality. I found it very entertaining as well as informative but more serious minded individuals might not. Persaonally I support most attempts to popularise science and make it accessible by the average person. If you have even just a speck of curiosity as to how life began then this is a book that I would happily recommend to you.
December 17, 2015
Combine astronomy, physics, biology, anthropology, and history with poetry, modern mythmaking, and sheer awe, and you’ll have a rough idea of the scope of this profound volume. Approaching the cosmos as self-aware and self-organizing living system of immanent divinity, Swimme and Berry imbue this history of the universe and our planet with reverence and a plea for humanity’s awakening to its responsibilities and rightful role within the balance.
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August 29, 2008I found this one amazing, and amaazingly difficult at the same time. It begins with theoretical beginnings and is very poetic. It becomes less poetic as the story unfolds and there are greater amounts of written documented history to back up the story. Then it finishes with us, now, and what do we do?
March 23, 2010
a bit too scientific for me . i am fascinated that we all come from 'star dust' and a friend thought i might like it.
now i know the name of the star that gave birth to our many elements and for that it was a good read...even tho' i didn't finish it!
TIAMAT is our star!!
now i know the name of the star that gave birth to our many elements and for that it was a good read...even tho' i didn't finish it!
TIAMAT is our star!!
December 2, 2007
A good review of the evolution of the cosmos
March 6, 2008
The teeeniest bit out of date cosmologically, but otherwise an inspirational read.
November 25, 2008
Not my cup of tea, it started out so well then disintegrated into stupid. Still it was a good concept to begin with the problem was in the delivery.
December 2, 2013
i love this guy! y'all do yrself a favor to check him out. Wonderful mixture of science, cosmology, and an underlying faith.
July 20, 2012
We need a new story, a myth that is based on the new cosmology of the universe. This is it!
October 22, 2014
Fascinating recap from the Big Bang to 1992.
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