Exploring Planetary Climate: A History of Scientific Discovery on Earth, Mars, Venus and Titan

Abstract

descriptions from the seventeenth, fourteenth, and nineteenth centuries. Each route and traveler essentially stand on its own. This is true even of the chapters on the Hajj and the trans-Saharan caravan routes, both of which follow the narrative of Ibn Battuta, but with virtually no references to each other. Not too surprisingly, only one of the travel-writers in the book is a woman (Lucy Duff Gordon, traveling the Nile in 1862); four of the twelve travelers are not European. The chapters are just over fifteen pages long, including notes, so there is not really room for more than a historical summary and some basic details. The style of writing is also noticeably, almost intrusively, simple: uniformly short sentences and easy vocabulary. There is definitely an art to this kind of writing, but the style is odd for a book published by Oxford University Press on a seemingly specialist topic. However, while There and Back concerns a particular type of history, it is certainly meant for a popular audience. There are interesting touches in most chapters. I enjoyed the chapter on the Silk Road (part of section II: “Pilgrimage Routes”), which followed the narrative of the Buddhist monk, Fa Xian, quite closely. Fa Xian and his companions traveled the Silk Road, starting in 399 CE, from their monastery in China to the places where the Buddha lived in India, searching for better translations of Buddhist sacred writings. Gordon, whose area of expertise is Asian history, is of course aware that the Silk Road is usually viewed as a trade route, rather than a pilgrimage route. By following Fa Xian’s story, Gordon focuses on “ . . . the less well-known, mental aspect of the Silk Road as a route, and tells us how ideas moved along it” (p. 64). This different perspective and the poignant details of Fa Xian’s story are compelling. On the other hand, I disliked the chapter on the Indian Ocean (in section IV: “Trade Routes”). The chapter supposedly followed the story of Malik Ambar from slavery (captured on the east coast of Africa) to being the ruler of an enclave in the Deccan Plateau of India. The story is interesting enough, but seemed somehow muddled or at least poorly edited – and, as an historian, I found the lack of footnotes for key parts of the story very frustrating. The very general “overview” of the Indian Ocean “route,” three pages at the end of the chapter, seemed better thoughtout than the narrative involving Ambar, but it was also a little ludicrous for such a vast region and span of time. As I was evaluating this book, I tried to figure out how it might be used. Parts of it are interesting for general reading, of course, but for people who have been engrossed in the history of travel for some time, such as the readers of this journal, it offers little that is particularly new or exciting. The book would not fit a typical freshman class at college either, with its spread of topics and confusing lack of chronology. But perhaps a chapter or two could be assigned in a World History survey course to add some extra information for the curious student. The concept for There and Back is appealing and chapters do include surprising moments. Perhaps it was the aim of the author that, ultimately, the reader would be left wanting to know more.