1 Extended Essay EG English A1 Research Question: How does Oliver Sacks describe his growing understanding of science as a mixture of imagination and human relationships in his memoir, Uncle Tungsten ? Abstract word count: 235 Essay word count: 3657 Supervisor's name: Dr. C. Dorion IB Session Number: 000911 ­ 0005 IBIS Personal Code: 000911­ fvq347 2 Abstract: This essay examines Oliver Sacks’ memoir, Uncle Tungsten . The essay focuses on the research question, “How does Sacks describe his growing understanding of science as a mixture of imagination and human relationships?” The essay starts with an analysis of gardens as an extended metaphor for safety and play. The essay then explores Sacks’ fascination with the etymology of the elements and the chemical processes involved with photography ­ specifically, how he finds the language for his fascination in the vocabulary of magic and superstition. The next section examines how his father taught him to value human relationships in science. It then discusses how Sacks imagines he was distantly related to icons of chemistry, such as Dalton, to better understand chemistry. The essay then develops empathy in the reader for Sacks’ sense of poetry in science. Once Sacks goes to university for chemistry and is expected to assume a similarly impersonal approach, his interest in chemistry dies. The essay then focuses on how Sacks uses religious language to explain his awe with chemistry and his disappointment when he lost his passion for it. Sacks concludes by examining light as an extended metaphor for knowledge. Due to the overwhelming blending of science and humanities throughout the memoir, Sacks has conveyed through his discovery of new perspectives encountered during his boyhood journey that science is not a sterile domain but, rather a magic, imaginative and, artistic amalgamation. 3 Table of Contents: Introduction...............................................................................................................................................4. Gardens and Numbers...............................................................................................................................4. The Magic of Science...............................................................................................................................6. The Elements of Family............................................................................................................................7. The Death of Passion ...............................................................................................................................9. Conclusion..............................................................................................................................................12. Bibliography............................................................................................................................................13. 4 Introduction: Oliver Sacks' memoir, Uncle Tungsten, follows the author’s maturation from a boy to a young adult. In order to escape the London Blitz, Sacks visits his aunt at The Jewish Fresh Air School. As a way to seek solace from the war, Sacks spends time playing in the gardens at this school. Auntie Len nourishes his curiosity of the world by informing him of the mathematical principles hidden in all his precious flowers. His new understanding of connections between the garden and mathematical principles leads to his exploration of new connections which to him seem magical. His experiences with learning of the etymology of the elements and photography both capture moments where Sacks finds such a blend. His uncles supply him with materials for performing experiments and books to learn about the history of chemistry, his father brings him along on house calls and, his mother introduces him to human dissection. Once Sacks reaches university and starts studying quantum chemistry, he encounters feelings of impersonality ­ what was a magical world becomes sterile. Disheartened, Sacks loses his passion for chemistry. Yet, his memoir preceding his studies at university is rich with a sense of science as poetry. Sacks describes his growing understanding of science not as solely the sterile domain found in a lab but, rather as a mixture of artistic imagination, religion and, magic. As Sacks leads the reader through key moments of insight from his journey from childhood to a young adult, he introduces mentors which develop his rich perspective. He illustrates his perspective with a gentle, reflective style which employs extended metaphors from a range of subjects. Gardens and Numbers: During World War II, when Sacks would stay with Auntie Len, on occasion he would visit the Jewish Fresh Air School she founded. He creates the garden as a metaphor for imagination and a way of thinking about science. The metaphor is first developed in the context of the protection of innocence and innocent thought. Where he notices all the, “delicate children [...] had little gardens of their own [...] bordered by stones.” (27) The children's fragility coupled with the stone barriers implies that their 5 gardens symbolize safety. It is as if the garden is a castle and the stones shield the children from harm. Auntie Len shares her mathematical and botanical comfort with Sacks by showing him how sunflower seeds, “were arranged according to a series.” (27) The metaphor of “sunflowers” has the effect of creating a gregarious mood even though, there was a potential sterile categorization of the flowers. He refers to such flowers as, “friends in this garden.” (28) The personification of flowers as Sacks' metaphorical companions implies that, like the children who attend the Jewish Fresh Air School, he too finds gardens to be safe. He seems to be self aware of the solace he takes from gardens when he remarks, “it was a garden hidden from [...] the bullies.” (28) The exclusion of Sacks' antagonists ­­ the bullies, the headmaster, the Nazis ­­ seems to imply that gardens, especially his metaphorical garden of numbers, act as his sanctuaries. Sacks seems to suggest that he felt an imaginative quality about numbers as he links them to gardens. He admits after contemplation of his visit with Auntie Len that the connection between gardens and numbers, “assumed a curiously intense, symbolic form for me.” (28) The fiercely symbolic connection suggests he deeply trusts numbers and gardens as places of peace. He joyously alludes to his aunt's garden with this new, abstract “garden of numbers, a magical, secret, wonderful garden.” (28) The asyndeton seems to convey a childish way of talking which, heightens the bewitching wonder of his figurative garden. This is reenforced by Auntie Len who, as if telling Sacks a bedtime story, declares, “numbers were the way the world was put together.” (28) This creationist description resonates with the book of Enoch which suggests that Auntie Len feels her own jewish beliefs coincide with science. She summarizes her theology to Sacks as one in which, “numbers [...] are the way God thinks.” (28) It is as if God is the protector of his garden of numbers. Sacks builds trust and security in religion and math by growing their concepts in his metaphorical garden. To accommodate Sacks' experimenting, a room leading to the garden is renovated into a laboratory so that if one of his concoctions were to catch fire, he could “fling it on the lawn.” (69) The literal garden setting alludes to the mental safety Sacks feels when doing chemistry and, to a further extent, being in his garden of numbers which protects him emotionally. Even before the laboratory is established Sacks turns the kitchen table into a “chemical garden.” (68) It is as if Sacks is growing chemicals and, viewing the end results with the aesthetic beauty of flowers. During one of his first experiments with electricity, he superimposes the aesthetic of natural flowers with the chemical 6 aesthetic of a tree, “the first pair of metals [he] used [...] could produce [...] a tree.” (160) It is as if he has grown a tree in his “chemical garden”. Chemistry provides Sacks with the mental and physical safety to play with ideas. The Magic of Science: Sacks wants to convey the magic, the sense of awe, that he finds in the elements. Our narrator conveys a sense of the magic that the young Sacks feels on encountering the elements by focusing on the etymology of the elements and his own thoughts of fantastical creatures. For example, Sacks draws the reader into his imagination as he explains that, “a kobold was a goblin or evil sprite.” (61) The wicked overtones cause cobalt to seem mysteriously treacherous. It is as if through naming these creatures, Sacks can reveal personality traits within the elements. Sacks explains that for him, some names were appealing due to “the images they conjured up.” (60) Inspired to create his own etymologies, Sacks re­imagines stolzite and scholzite as “Stolz and Scholz (. . .) Nazi officers with barking voices.” (60) It is as if stolzite and scholzite inspire thoughts of present goblins in Germany. Even elements whose names have relatively banal associations, have the effect of seeming enchanting, “like lights over the map of the world.” (63) The ethereal imagery of the world for Sacks is illuminated by elements. It is as if Sacks is performing a conjuring act as he creates images out of the names of elements. Whereas through etymology of the elements he could capture the ethereal, through photography he could capture the ephemeral. In a spell of wonder, he perceives a multidimensional structure in which photographs are “clean cross sections (. . .) of time, fixed forever in silver.” (134) His juxtaposition of scientific jargon seems to explain the bewitching eternality of the photographs. Sacks seems to emphasize the allure of timelessness by explaining how “ammonia could 'fix' the images.” (136) The quotation marks underlining the double entendre of 'fix' implies that the ammonia literally makes the image permanent as well as figuratively mends the image, which has the enchanting effect of causing science to seem like it creates eternal beauty. Sacks enthusiastically describes developing sheets of film with the illusionist Walter Alexander as, “magic of an image emerging.” (137) We feel Sacks' amazement as if he is performing a conjuring act; rather like pulling a rabbit from a hat, he is pulling an image from a concoction of chemicals. Sacks conveys his discovery through the entrancing 7 blend of art and science which composes photography as he reflects: “If photography was a metaphor for perception and memory and identity, it was equally a model, a microcosm, of science at work.” (136) Sacks' contemplative yet compelling tone persuades the reader to view science as a bridge between art and magic. The Elements of Family: The reader is introduced to Sacks' father as a key mentor who taught him the importance of human relationships in science. As an objective man, his father is, “not given to emotion or intimacy.” (91) Sacks constructs his father as a stereotypical, phlegmatic doctor. Yet despite Sacks' father's coolness, Sacks recounts his father's joy at performing house calls because, “they were social and sociable as well as medical.” (93) The paradox of Sacks' father as both unemotional and extroverted implies that he possesses a complex personality which parallels the human­related intricacies of science. Sacks explains that his father believed that,“medicine (. . .) had to be seen and understood in the context of the patients' lives.” (93) It is as if medicine is a means for Sacks' father to escape the sterility of his profession. Sacks seems to mimic his father's method for opening up to people when he shows off his solution of Clerici; he “freely approached others, all [his] fear forgotten.” (66) Like his father, Sacks' liberated tone implies that it was not easy for him to relate with peers before he could articulate his knowledge of science. Like father, like son; Sacks inherits an awareness of the link between science and connecting with people from his father. Sacks develops an extended metaphor ­­ it is not only his immediate family but historical figures of chemistry that are a part of his scientific family as well. Sacks refers to early chemists as “honorary ancestors.” (102) The familial connotations suggest Sacks envisions these masters as a part of his family. As Sacks begins to inform the reader about Lavoisier, he notes that he “would become know as (...) the father, of modern chemistry.” (106) The fatherly expression implies a link between chemistry's history and Sacks' family motif which has the effect of causing Lavoisier to seem more familiar. Sacks explains that in order to better understand these early chemists and their history, he needed to “imagine [himself] into their worlds.” (101) The juxtaposition of imagination and chemistry 8 suggests Sacks treats early chemists as family due to his search for a more human science. To better understand chemistry's origins, Sacks incorporates pioneers of chemistry into his family tree. In this metaphor of scientific uncles and aunts, Dalton is a key mentor who introduces Sacks to a humanities approach to science. As Sacks learns about atomic weight, he states that “reading Dalton (. . .) put [him] in a sort of rapture.” (150) The divine connotation of “rapture” suggest that Sacks finds Dalton's work intensely enlightening. Under the influence of reading Dalton, Sacks refers to data as “mysterious proportionalities.” (150) The anthropomorphism seems to have the effect of causing data to seem magical; as if mystical secrets lie within portions and quantities, waiting to be discovered. Sacks explains Dalton's process for discovering these secrets as, “using the imagination as a microscope.” (150) Scientific imagery implies that in order to visualize such intangible concepts creativity can be a useful tool. Especially, when Sacks portrays Dalton's work as insight into the “inner world of atoms, dancing, touching, attracting, and combining.” (150) The personification of atoms seems to have the effect of adding an artistic, human quality which implies that imagination is a necessity in comprehending the world of atoms. Through studying Dalton, Sacks seems to form an imaginative approach to the conceptualization of the inner­workings of atoms. It is as if he looks through a creative lens to see into an unseen world. Progressing from garden to family and now to the supernatural, Sacks introduces Uncle Abe, a key mentor who teaches Sacks of the magic and art of luminescence. The chapter title is “Cold Fire.” (221) An oxymoron that seems to set an otherworldly tone. Sacks imagines that the earliest observations of luminescence could have started with, “will­o'­the­wisps [which] in legend, lure travellers to their doom.” (223) By beginning with such folklore Sacks initiates a magical quality about Uncle Abe's field of study. As Sacks describes his own experiments with phosphorescence, he explains that, “these transformations made me feel like a magician.” (224) The simile suggests a mystical mood. However, whereas Sacks feels like he is performing magic, Uncle Abe seems like an artist. Therefore, 9 Sacks is the artist's apprentice. Sacks describes Uncle Abe “[blending phosphors] like an artist with his palette.” (228) Comparison of science with art resonates with Uncle Dave's sentiments that science is human. Connection between magic, art and, the science of luminescence helps Sacks to search for a more human science. Family, whether related or historical, provides the reader with a sense of Sacks as lucky to encounter people for whom science was connected to imagination and art – there is no sterility, nor compartmentalization. Sacks' mother both nourishes his artistic view of science and supplies her own, nature focused approach. Sacks recounts that when it came to his mother, “the medical, for her, was always embedded in a life.” (234) The imagery of medicine being a part of life suggests that Sacks' mother believes in an imaginative approach to science. However, the ambiguity of “life” seems to allow her work to touch more than just humans. Sacks reflects that “[his father] had little interest in the nonhuman, in “nature”, as [his] mother had.” (238) The double entendre of “nature” implies there is a dichotomy between Sacks' maternal and paternal side. Paraphrasing Barbara McClintock, Sacks explains that his mother had “ [a] feeling for the organism.” (239) The idiom implies that sacks' mother appreciates the structure of living beings, which serves as a link between “her green thumb in the garden to the delicacy and success of her operations.” (239) Sacks' mother's affinity for the garden echoes Sack's extended metaphor for safety, which suggests that Sacks' mother finds solace in the nonhuman; in the sterile domain of anatomy. The Death of Passion: Despite the advocacy for science as play and safety, Sacks begins to draw the reader towards a crisis, a dissonance he encounters with the impersonal sterility expected of him during his graphic experience dissecting corpses. Sacks recalls that his mother would bring home lifeless fetuses and, “insisted, though [he] was only eleven, that [he] dissect them [himself].” (241) Sacks seems to remind the reader of his age at the time in order to convey an immature tone, which underlines his horror. Sacks elucidates that he had trouble distancing himself because, “[he] saw in these fetuses what (in imagination) [he] could have been.” (241) Sacks' unbreakable link between his imagination and science implies that he believed his mother's sterile approach is grotesque. Sacks is so disturbed after dissecting 10 the knee of a girl his own age that he questions, “if [he] would ever be able to love.” (243) The hyperbole of Sacks' overwhelming disgust seems cliché yet establishes an intense, morose mood, which implies that it is sad when science is not imaginative and artistic. Sacks reveals that in opposition to the weight of death he developed a passion for chemistry partly because elements “existed in a deathless realm of their own.” (241) The crisis of death as an obstacle to imagination haunted him and ultimately drew him away. Sacks' inability to disconnect the imagination, philosophy and aesthetic of the humanities from the subject of chemistry entices the reader to eagerly follow his search for a more human science. When reflecting on his amateur apprenticeship before university, Sacks admits that he “had been spoiled, in a sense, by [his] two uncles.” (314) He feels confronted by the real world. Once Sacks reaches university, he is horrified “to use textbooks that were flat, impersonal, deadly.” (314) The characterization of “textbooks” implies that they are ghastly replacements for his uncles; for his mentors and, the books seem to resonate with the sterility of his mother. As Sacks realizes his disappointment with quantum chemistry, he notes that the chemistry which really struck a chord with him was the “lovingly detailed, naturalistic, descriptive chemistry of the nineteenth century.” (313) It is as if Sacks was born in the wrong century: his love of poetic language seems to echo Humphry Davy's ambitions as a poet­chemist. Sacks seems self­aware of his hunger for a more science as he expresses his need “to place [himself] in the middle of the perceptual world.” (313) The sensual imagery suggests that Sacks seeks a richer science which, the sterile domain of quantum chemistry cannot provide. Sacks longs to study a science that engages the pathos and ethos which, appeals to the reader's own psyche. As he contemplates the disparity between science and art, he employs deeper, cultural metaphors. Sacks uses religious language to express his awe with chemistry. Sacks compares valency to a “cosmic staircase or Jacob's ladder, going up to (...) a Pythagorean heaven.” (190) The juxtaposition of religious imagery with mathematical jargon suggests a divinity about chemistry. As Sacks learns of Mendeleev's discoveries in the periodic table, he speculates that, “it might be equipped to (. . .) read the mind of God” (191) The religious language alludes to creationism which implies chemistry as the building blocks of the world. Chemistry seems vast, governing and, supreme. Sacks relates the periodic table to “God's abacus at work” (302) It is as if the elements are the product of God 11 playing with mathematics. Amazed by the periodic table, Sacks remarks, “all this was beautiful enough to be the work of God.” (308) The pastoral language suggests that in addition to being all­encompassing, chemistry's order also provides Sacks with a sense of pleasure and comfort. Sacks links God to chemistry to make his wonder tangible to the reader, in doing so he conveys a sense of rapture ­­ not with God but as a proxy for science. The garden image transforms to a wider metaphor as Sacks uses religious language to communicate his growing disappointment in chemistry. Once at university, he laments that, “[his] holy subject (. . .) was being rendered prosaic, profane.” (314) the antithesis of “holy” and “profane” seems to underline Sacks' growing disdain for modern chemistry. Remorseful of his lost passion, he remarks that, “[he] was now outside this Elysium.” (311) The allusion to greek mythology seems to resonate with Boyle's epithet for his lab which, has the effect of breaking Sacks' illusion of early chemists as ancestors. It is as if he is being excommunicated. Sacks goes on to say, “[he] had been expelled from the (. . .) garden of Mendeleev.” (311) The biblical allusion to Adam and Eve implies that he feels he had learned too much or had taken his passion to far. As well, this return to the garden motif suggests that he was devastated to lose what had provided him such safety as a child. Religious imagery and language enhance his feelings of distress and he disconnects himself from chemistry. In transitioning to a new area of science, Sacks reflects upon the maturation of both himself and academia, through light as an extended metaphor for knowledge. During one of Sacks' visits to Tungstalite, Uncle Dave tells him, “the history of chemical discovery was inseparable from the quest for light.” (47) The dual meaning implies that literally chemists were searching for ways of harnessing light yet, figuratively they were also searching for more knowledge. When Sacks installs his own light bulb in the cupboard under the stairs, he remarks after turning it on that, “in banishing the darkness, [the light] banished its mystery, too.” (53) Illumination as a metaphor for knowledge implies that learning is good because it fills the absence of knowledge, yet may be bad because it quells the adventurous allure of the unknown. After illuminating the cupboard, Sacks concludes that some things are “best left with their secrets intact.” (53) The foreshadowing suggests that Sacks is alluding to his separation from chemistry; that perhaps he took his inquiries into chemistry too far and lost his initial 12 allure to its mystical secrecy. Sacks ends his memoir by speculating that his leaving chemistry may have simply been a part of growing up. He wonders if a part of growing up is giving up the magical insights of childhood, “so that they fade into the light of common day?” (314) The extended metaphor of light suggests that he believes that as he matured, his increased knowledge dispelled his childhood point of view which, echoes his experiment where he installed a lightbulb in the cupboard. Yet, Sacks addresses growing up through a rhetorical question which seems to leave the quandary open to interpretation. Through the use of light as an extended metaphor, Sacks questions the pursuit of knowledge and what it means to grow up. Conclusion: In Oliver Sacks' memoir Uncle Tungsten, Sacks conveys his growing understanding of science as a progression through periods of artistic imagination, religion, magic and, humanism. Beginning with the gardens at the Jewish Fresh Air School, Sacks learns of the mathematics hidden within flowers. Sacks then proceeds to seek magic within the etymology of elements and the chemical processes involved with photography. However, he is not alone in his search for a more imaginative science. His Uncles, Abe and Dave, serve as mentors who supply him with materials for experimentation and introduce him to icons from chemistry through playfully written yet instructive books. His father nourishes his interest in science and teaches him the importance of human relations by bringing him on house calls. His mother attempts to support him by showing him the aesthetic beauty of organisms through the art of human dissection. However, the experience is too intensely impersonal for Sacks and, it is when he feels these same emotions again at university that his passion for chemistry dies. Yet, the memoir’s open ending and frequent blending of science and humanities implies that Sacks believes in the rich perspective that his mentors strived to cultivate within him. 13 Bibliography Sacks, Oliver. Uncle Tungsten: Memories of a Chemical Boyhood . Toronto: Vintage Canada, 2002. Print.