Some time back I slogged my way through The Lunar Men : Five Friends Whose Curiosity Changed the World by Jenny Uglow. And I mean slogged, because it was not exactly an enjoyable read. The book concerns a visionary group of men who regularly met in 1760's England to discuss science, art, business, and politics, usually over a pint of ale or two. It sounded a bit like Thursday night trivia at Keegan's
When I originally picked the book up, I was expecting to be riveted by the exploits of this league of extraordinary gentlemen whose ranks included Matthew Boulton, James Watt, Josiah Wedgwood, Erasmus Darwin, Joseph Priestley, James Keir, William Small, William Withering, Richard Lovell Edgeworth, and Thomas Day. Instead I was mostly bored. Unless you're really into the wonkier aspects of science and engineering (like Atomizer), you'll likely find yourself bogged down in the five hundred pages of material that Uglow offers up.
However, there are a few interesting anecdotes, my favorite being the story of how Thomas Day tried to find the perfect wife:
Day brooded miserably for a while, before deciding on a radical plan. Although he was only twenty-one, he was determined to find a wife (out of "duty", thought Anna Seward rather kindly). His demands were modest:
He resolved, if possible, that his wife should have a taste for literature and science, for moral and patriotic philosophy. So might she be his companion in that retirement, to which he had destined himself; and assist him forming the minds of his children to stubborn virtue and high exertion. He resolved also, that she should be simple as a mountain girl, in her dress, her diet and her manners, fearless and intrepid as the Spartan wives and Roman heroines.
As Anna admitted, "There was no finding such a creature ready made." Since no woman fitted his ideals--and those whom he had stooped to fancy had jilted him--he would have to create the wife he wanted, all by himself. The plan was to adopt two girls and bring them up according to the best Rousseauian scheme. And as they grew up, Day "might be able to decide, which of them would be agreeable to himself for a wife."
It was alarmingly easy to procure guinea-pigs for this experiment. With an old schoolfriend John Bicknell, Day went first to the orphanage in Shrewsbury, picked out a girl of "remarkably promising appearance" and named her Sabrina Sidney (after the river Severn, and his hero, Algernon Sidney). The next stop was the Foundling Hospital in Coram Fields in London, where he chose a second girl, "Lucretia." They were eleven and twelve respectively; prepubertal dolls.
Needless to say, his experiment in trying to create the perfect woman failed miserably.
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