The poetic side of science writing

Daniel Pendick — Mon, 25 Aug 2008 22:00:00 GMT

Many people — at least, many of the people science writers write for — read to satisfy a basic curiosity about the universe. How does the world work? What’s out there in the unfathomable great beyond of outer space?

Astronomy readers, in particular, enjoy getting their minds bent around improbable ideas like black holes, multi-dimensional universes, and lakes on Titan filled with that stuff in your barbecue grill gas tank.

But can writing about science be more than the imparting of interesting or useful information? Can it be literature, too — what Merriam Webster’s New Collegiate Dictionary defines as writings in prose or verse “having excellence of form or expression and expressing ideas of permanent or universal interest”?

The journal Isotope thinks so.

Isotope is a biannual journal of literary writing about science. It covers just about every field you can think of, including astronomy, artificial intelligence, genetic engineering, sexuality, urban ecosystems, restoration ecology, physics, and math. In their own words:

“Isotope: A Journal of Literary Nature and Science Writing. We are a journal of literary nature and science writing. We are a journal of compelling artwork, poems, lyric and narrative essays, microfiction, short stories and regular features such as, ‘Soliloquy,’ in which we invite a writer or artist to respond to a specific question; ‘Voice,’ in which we feature a long piece or several works by a single writer; and ‘Portfolio,’ in which we display the work of a coherent group of artists or several pieces by a single creator.”

“Microfiction”? Hmmm. Does it come with a magnifying lens? Anyway…

You can find back issues with active links to selected writings in the journal here.

I looked for something about astronomy. This one, in the spring/summer 2007 issue, seemed pretty interesting to me because it captures part of the experience of stargazing that Timothy Ferris, a master of literary astronomy writing, calls “ineffable,” meaning an idea or feeling that one must experience to understand, an idea that cannot truly be put into words:

An excerpt from Earthbound
By James Grinwis

“Big sky flexion,
a guess. I unfold
my map. Here is Aldebaran
here is Polaris. Little crevices
slicing the moon. Walking far,
the corrosive light.
To the left, an odd species
of tree, feeding on dawn.

“Earth at night
reveals things we
diurnal folks wouldn’t believe.”

Astronomy.com blog : Daniel Pendick, publications

The poetic side of science writing