The Disappearing Spoon: And Other True Tales of Madness, Love, and the History of the World from the Periodic Table of the Elements

I am an engineer, and have spent a good chunk of my life dealing with parts of the periodic table. I bought this book on an impulse, and I am glad I did. It was a very enjoyable experience reading it, and I was sorry when it came to an end. === The Good Stuff === * Sam Kean does a great job in mixing a litte science, a touch of history, some genuine supposition and a dash of humor. The result is a view of the periodic table, its history, and a number of stories about some of its residents. He writes in a fun, easy to read style, and doesn't include a lot of technical jargon or fifteen letter words. * Kean is mostly careful about what is proven knowledge versus what is informed supposition, although he occasionally gets careless with what is fact versus hearsay. Still, most of the "how this was discovered" stories are more for entertainment value, this is a perfectly acceptable standard. * While this is in no way a chemistry or physics book, to understand the beauty, logic, and difficulty in constructing the periodic table, you need to know some details about the structure of an atom. Kean strikes a nice balance. The text is technical enough to highlight what makes the periodic table so clever and useful, but yet perfectly understandable by anyone with even the slightest hint of how an atom is constructed. * Kean has a gift of tying history, myth, science and intelligent guesswork together. As an example, he relates a tale of an area of Asia Minor, where copper, zinc and tin ores exist, often mingled together. Copper and tin, mixed together make bronze, a dull, yellowy metal. But copper and zinc mixed together make brass, a very shiny golden metal, which can plausibly be mistaken for gold by ancient alchemists. And Asia Minor is noted for having some very early bronze foundries, and coincidentally, the legendary home of King Midas. Kean can't prove that some ancient process for replacing the tin in bronze with zinc, and thereby making brass, was mistaken for alchemy, but it is an interesting bit of supposition.. Kean also relates a marvelous story about John Bardeen, who won the Nobel prize for the transistor in the 1950's. At the award ceremony, the King of Sweden asked why he hadn't brought his sons along to the ceremony. "Next time" quipped Bardeen. In 1972, when he was awarded a 2nd Nobel Prize for superconductivity, Bardeen introduced his adult sons to the King. === The Not-So-Good Stuff=== * Kean writes with a sarcastic wit, something that I enjoy but which some readers might find objectionable. * Some of the tales that Kean relates, for instance the story of Lise Meitner, are rather complicated and involve a fairly obtuse plot and cast of characters. Her discovery of fission, and the lack of credit she received for it are more appropriate for a 300 page work rather than a page or two. A brief overview poses more questions than it answers. === Summary === * A very enjoyable book. Its obvious appeal is to anyone who is more than a casual user of the periodic table. However, there are enough stories and anecdotes in the book that even non-techies will probably enjoy it. I'd recommend it to anyone who has ever stared at the familiar chart in any classroom and wondered what it means.

One of the prettiest books I have on my shelves right now is Theodore Gray's The Elements, a visual collection of all the elements that make up the physical universe. "Everything you can drop on your foot," as he says. In it, he provides wonderful pictures and descriptions of the elements that we know, arranged as they would be in the periodic table. It's a gorgeous book, one that everyone should have - especially if you have children. If you want your kids to become interested in science and investigating the world around them, you could do far worse than to have this book on your shelves. Eventually, though, they'll be old enough and canny enough to ask, "Well, how do we know all this? Where did we find these things, and how? And why are they in this order?" That's the point where you hand them The Disappearing Spoon, sit back, and let Sam Kean take over. The story of the elements, and our understanding of them, is governed just as much by personality as by p-shells, as much by competition as by charge, as much by ego as by electrons. While the elements themselves don't pay any attention to human affairs, the quest to understand the building blocks of matter have sent us to the hearts of stars, the depths of the earth and, for various reasons, Ytterby, Sweden. [1] Kean starts with how he got into the elements, with a story that would horrify modern-day parents: mercury. When he was a kid, his mother would collect the mercury from broken thermometers and keep it in a little bottle on a high shelf. If they were lucky, she would let her children play with it for a while, swirling it around and watching while this shiny liquid metal split apart and fused back together perfectly, never leaving a bit of itself behind. It was a metal that flowed like water, and it was fascinating. If he had known at that age that ancient alchemists thought there were spirits living in mercury, he would not have been surprised. Keeping an eye out for mercury, he learned that modern scientists are able to follow the expedition of Lewis and Clark using mercury. The explorers carried with them a good quantity of Dr. Benjamin Rush's Bilious Pills, a "cure" for any illness that mainly contained mercury chloride. It was vile stuff, poisoning everyone who took it, but without an FDA around to stop this kind of nonsense, Rush made plenty of money. It probably didn't hurt his credibility that he was one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence. In any case, he gave samples to the Lewis and Clark expedition, and their latrine sites can still be found today by the unusually high levels of mercury that were deposited there as the men's bodies tried to get rid of the heavy metal as quickly as possible. Mercury also taught Kean about mythology - the Roman god of communication, modeled on the Greek message-bearer. It taught him etymology - the chemical symbol for mercury is Hg, which is derived from the Latin hydragyrum, which means "silver water." It informed him on literature, especially the Mad Hatter of Alice in Wonderland, who was based on the poor crazies who used to breathe in the fumes of mercury while setting felt for their hats. This one weird, eerie element was a door into so many other topics that he figured there must be others. And so he started work on this book, a collection of histories and tales, gossip and hearsay, all centered around the 118 physical elements that make up our universe. "As we know," he writes, "90 percent of particles in the universe are hydrogen, and the other 10 percent are helium. Everything else, including six million billion billion kilos of earth, is a cosmic rounding error." Within that rounding error, though, some amazing things have been found. In the 19th century, the Russian Dimitri Mendeleev examined the common properties of different elements and was able to sort the elements in such a way that took advantage of their similarities. The violent alkalies along the far left, which will explode if given half a chance, and their cousins, the halogens on the far right, some of the most reactive elements in nature. Separating them are the noble gasses, which don't react with anything unless pushed to extremes. Without knowing about electron shells and the weird quantum things that happen on the atomic level, Mendeleev managed to put together a table so good that he was able to leave gaps in it that corresponded to elements that hadn't yet been found. And by telling the world that these gaps existed, the race to isolate and discover the elements was on. Kean's book is a great look at the way science works on a human level. How the search for high-quality porcelain led to the discovery of an entire class of elements, how Marie Curie would get into trouble by dragging her (male) colleagues into dark closets to show them how radium glowed, how nitrogen kills with kindness and lithium quiets an unsettled mind. The competition to not only find these elements but to name them and find uses for them has driven science forward in all fields, from geology to neurology, for the last two hundred years. Those 118 squares on the periodic table have driven men to travel the world, to create economic and political empires, to love, to hate, and to murder. If this kind of thing were taught in high school chemistry class, there would probably be a lot more kids interested in science as a career. The book is very readable, even if it does drift from time to time into more technical areas. One of my colleagues, who doesn't have an extensive background in science, said she was a little slowed down by talk of electron shells and quantum jumps, which I guess were not aided by Kean's elevator similes. But it did get her asking the right questions - how do we know atoms exist if we can't see them? How can we be sure that what is in this book is true? Those are the questions that Kean tries to answer in the book, but it's also the kind of book that may bring up more questions. It's "gateway science," one of those books that pulls away the cold, rational veneer of the scientist and his or her endeavors, and shows what an exciting, weird, messy and dramatic place science can be. What's more, it shows how science is deeply ingrained not only into our technology, but our language, history and politics. An understanding of science, even at an amateur level, is a wonderful way to open your eyes to the great, complex and bizarre world in which we live. ----------------------------------------------------------- "We eat and breathe the periodic table; people bet and lose huge sums on it; philosophers use it to probe the meaning of science; it poisons people; it spawns wars. Between hydrogen at the top left and the man-made impossibilities lurking along the bottom, you can find bubbles, bombs, money, alchemy, petty politics, history, poison, crime, and love. Even some science." - Sam Kean, The Disappearing Spoon ------------------------------------------------------------ [1] The town has the distinct honor of having four elements named after it: yttrium (Y), ytterbium (Yb), terbium (Tb), and erbium (Er). What has your hometown got?

Well written, not too basic or technical. Felt like I learnt a lot from this book.

I've always felt woefully ignorant of the periodic table, and any ventures into Wikipedia left me overwhelmed and somewhat bored. This book strikes the perfect balance between science and anecdote, and is definitely a great springboard to deeper understanding for the elementally intrigued. Highly recommended!

Fun book for those interested in dipping their toes into science. This book is filled with interesting facts, interesting analogies, and entertaining anecdotes.

𝙳𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠... ...𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 118 𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚕? ...𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚞𝚖 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝? ...𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝-𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚋-𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕? ...𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚝* 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 41 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙽𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚕? ...𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚗𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 137 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚋𝚘𝚡 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚌 𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎? 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚌 𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚢 (𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚑𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘) 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚢. '𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚂𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚗' 𝚋𝚢 𝚂𝚊𝚖 𝙺𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕- 𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚐𝚊𝚍𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚌-𝚗𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚎. 𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚌 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚟 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 (𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢) 𝙼𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚢. 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙺𝚎𝚊𝚗'𝚜 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍-𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚊 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚍𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑, 𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚓𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚡 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙳𝙽𝙰 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚞𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚖𝚋 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛. 𝙱𝚘𝚗𝚞𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕-𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 150 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 - 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚐𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚞𝚖 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚞𝚙 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚎𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍. [*𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝙶𝙽 𝙻𝚎𝚠𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚄𝚂, 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛. ] 📚☕🥄📖

Current reading the book but already fascinating with it