The Art of the Cosmos

A book of pictures taken largely on a remote, automated basis by machines might ordinarily be a hard sell, but the images gathered here come from some of the most remarkable machinery ever built: mammoth telescopes, spacecraft and rovers exploring beyond the limits of human reach. As author Jim Bell, a former Jet Propulsion Laboratory engineer, argues in his accompanying text to this spellbinding collection, it takes people to plan, acquire and process these images.

Bell’s own origin story in space photography is an example: helping oversee the Sojourner rover in 1997, he joined an attempt to capture a Martian sunset. Viking’s images two decades earlier had shown twilit skies, but lacked the dynamic range to show the Sun itself. Sojourner’s superior camera revealed an eerie blue solar disc, caused by Mars’s dust soaking up reddish light. Now Martian sunsets have become a relatively commonplace sight, showing how technical progress governs what we get to see of the wider Universe.

Saturn splendour: one of over 100 skilfully picked head-turners in the collection

The Art of the Cosmos starts with the Sun and journeys out across the planets of the Solar System and into the depths of space. The success of the book can be measured by the fact that the majority of its striking images are unfamiliar. Bell draws upon the work of an internet subculture of ‘vicarious explorers’, delving through space mission archives to uncover unfairly neglected images, such as the towering cliff on Comet 67P/Churyumov– Gerasimenko spied by ESA’s Rosetta probe. Notably, Bell is also a landscape photographer, able to recount why factors like framing, contrast and depth of field mean that some photos draw our attention more than others. Mars, understandably, is the photographic star attraction, with ringed Saturn coming a close second. Beyond Pluto come psychedelic vistas of stars and galaxies, concluding with the famous Hubble Deep Field, picking out endless galaxies from what previously seemed like empty darkness. The James Webb Space Telescope is currently extending the limits of our observations, meaning this volume will require an update, but in the meantime it makes for a fine visual guide to our own and other galaxies.

★★★★

Sean Blair is senior editor for European Space Agency Technology and Navigation

Interview with the author
Jim Bell

What’s your favourite space image?

I don’t have a single favourite, but I’m drawn to photos of the surfaces of worlds like the Moon and Mars, or the atmospheres of planets like Jupiter and Saturn. The range of colours and shapes are evocative of geologic or atmospheric scenes on Earth, yet these environments are extremely different from our own, so the comparison is illusory. I like the photographic tension between what seems familiar versus what’s actually recorded: crushing gravity, extreme temperatures, deadly radiation.

Are you excited about JWST?

Who wouldn’t be! The first images are stunning, especially compared to those taken by the Hubble Space Telescope. It’s artistically compelling and scientifically attractive to see the Universe with a new set of eyes that’s tuned into infrared. Webb’s resolution, infrared sensitivity and instrument technology are going to rewrite astronomy textbooks, just like Hubble did.

What worlds would you most like to see photographed?

Spectacular rocky mountain peaks on the Moon, huge canyons on Mars, towering columns of erupted lava on moon Io, billions of glistening chunks of ice in Saturn’s rings, a sheer cliff of ice on moon Miranda, rugged glaciers on the surface of Pluto… the list goes on! These and many other wondrous places are destined to be part of a future ‘Interplanetary Natural Park’ system that our descendants will treasure and preserve.

Jim Bell is a professor at Arizona State University’s School of Earth and Space Exploration

The Whole Truth

It’s not often that Nobel Prize winners share their views on the very nature of physical reality and the process of science. Princeton physicist James Peebles, one of the founders of the current standard model of cosmology, takes up the gauntlet in The Whole Truth.

Looking back at the history of cosmology over the past century, Peebles comments on our search for objective reality, convinced there is a single truth out there, but that our theories can only be approximations of that truth.

So why and how did we arrive at our current views of reality? According to Peebles, it’s a mix of intuition, a search for elegance, bandwagon effect and chance. Many ideas, like Einstein’s general theory of relativity, were originally accepted even without much empirical evidence. In most cases, he concludes, our theories are social constructs.

We hear many surprising examples of simultaneous or parallel progress in scientific discovery. Peebles describes a number of ‘alternative histories’ and concludes that our current cosmological views would have developed and matured anyway, independent of protagonists like Einstein, Gamow and himself.

This is not an easy book. Not everyone may fully appreciate Peebles’ elaborate musings on the philosophical and sociological aspects of our quest for knowledge. But if you’re interested in a broad and thorough take on the nature of scientific discovery, this book is for you.

★★★

Govert Schilling is an astronomy writer and author of Ripples In Time


Am I Made of Stardust?

As anyone who has attempted to talk to a child about space will know, young minds come up with endless, incredible, bizarre questions, though it’s often hard to respond with a satisfying, accessible answer. In Am I Made of Stardust? Maggie Aderin-Pocock has managed to do exactly that.

This is a fantastic questions-and-answers book, with vibrant illustrations. The first chapter covers the big questions about space, from the Big Bang and how big the Universe is, to what aliens might look like. The second focuses on our own Solar System – how we land a rover on Mars and whether Pluto is a planet (controversial!). The last chapter focuses on human space exploration, including what space smells like and how you too can become an astronaut.

Aderin-Pocock gives thoughtful, clever answers to all these questions and more. These answers are short but engaging, accessible but without the half-truths we often end up telling young children about science. There are also a few at-home experiments to try out – great for curing rainy day boredom. The advertised 9–11 years is probably a little on the older side of the ideal audience: this would be a great book to read with younger children.

This is a book any kid who’s fascinated by space (which is, frankly, most of them) will enjoy, but also a valuable tool for any adult frequently left stumped by the strange and varied questions of primary-school-aged children. Hopefully this will, briefly at least, satiate their curiosity.

★★★★★

Katie Sawers is a science writer specialising in the history of astronomy


Uranus and Neptune

Unlike the other planets in our Solar System, the ‘ice giants’ Uranus and Neptune were discovered in the modern era and so are solely scientific objects with no ancient cultural connotations. This latest book by Carolyn Kennett in Reaktion Books’ Kosmos series is a concise summary of our knowledge of both planets, as well as their numerous moons.

Neptune is the only planet whose discovery was predicted – a result of perturbations in Uranus’s orbit – and the book carefully unpicks the complex tale of this discovery, showing who should be credited with which aspect.

We learn of the two planets’ similarities: their rocky cores, their outer atmospheres containing methane, their magnetic fields unaligned with their axes of rotation. But we also learn about their differences: Uranus’s odd axis of rotation nearly at right angles to its orbit, for example, is unique in the Solar System, likely the result of a collision in the past; Neptune emits far more heat than it absorbs from the Sun.

Getting to grips with the history of these planets is important not just for our understanding of our own Solar System, but also for learning about planetary formation in the Universe more generally. After all, around one-third of all the exoplanets discovered so far are classed as Neptune-like.

Much of what we know about Neptune and Uranus is based on Voyager 2’s fly-bys in the late 1980s and its unforgettable images. This book is, rightly, as much an account of the technical triumphs of Voyager 2 as it is the story of the planets themselves, and it makes the case for a future, dedicated mission to these mysterious blue worlds. 

★★★★

Pippa Goldschmidt is a science, history and astronomy writer