Science, bias and belief: The Atomics & Hurdy Gurdy

I’m struck by the similarities between these two novels, despite being of different genres and set six centuries apart. Both are about men who take pride in their knowledge and intellect yet are blind to the biases that limit their understanding, particularly in relation to women and to physical health. The first is about a nuclear physicist dosing himself with radiation, the second about a young monk’s encounter with the Black Death.

The Atomics by Paul Maunder

Frank would probably consider himself a straightforward kind of guy. Happy in his marriage, passionate about his work, with a strong antipathy to violence against women. Unfortunately it’s a combination that can get him into trouble but, transferred to a newly-built nuclear-power station on the Suffolk coast, he has a chance to redeem himself.

He loves his new job, it’s just a pity about the neighbours. Maynard, who also works at the power plant, is everything Frank hates. When Maynard gets too close to a young female colleague, Frank feels compelled to intervene. With morality on his side, or so he believes, and strengthened by exposure to radiation, Frank’s quest is doomed.

I discovered this novel via Twitter - yes, it does happen sometimes - from a publisher, Lightning Books, which was new to me. And I’m so glad I did. It’s a cracking read about compulsion, masculinity and people blind to their flaws. Frank’s delusional self-justifications remind me of my character, Steve, in my second novel, Underneath. (Click on the image to learn more.)

Hurdy Gurdy by Christopher Wilson

Having been sent to the monastery at the age of seven, sixteen-year-old Brother Diggory is proficient in copying copies of the founder’s book of religious teachings, and knows how to balance the four humours in treating the sick. He knows nothing of women, however. Nor, in common with his contemporaries, does he know how the plague is spread. As the novel opens, he’s about to have unplanned lessons in both. He’s a keen student, but whether he’ll learn from these encounters is a totally different matter.

This is a fun coming-of-age novel about the quest for knowledge: how we humans strive for understanding, while constrained by the assumptions and biases based on what we already know. It’s half exposition of the mindset of the Middle Ages, half picaresque journey through a depopulated England where much of the workforce is dead. Not so far from contemporary times, then: our death toll is lower, but many still adhere to unscientific notions of the pestilence and Brexit has created a labour shortage in some areas.

I was interested to read that the author has a PhD in the psychology of humour; perhaps he’d know why I didn’t find it as funny as most reviewers have claimed. That didn’t detract from my enjoyment but, given that I’m still coming to terms with the humour in my own novel about delusion (click the image for more), it certainly got me wondering. Thanks to publishers Faber for my review copy.

A cooking show is a strange prompt for this week’s 99-word story. Strange still to post my response with these two reviews. I imagine both Frank and Brother Diggory being confused by Manju and Mary, although they’d agree there’s a science to cookery and there’s a theme of bias and belief.

Intercultural cooking contest

I hope she doesn’t cook curry, thought Mary, offering the other finalist her hand. The smell!

Please don’t cook beef, thought Manju, greeting her rival with palms joined as in prayer.

Winking at the audience, the compere showed them their separate kitchens. Manju gasped at the oak cupboards, the marble worktops, the built-in stove. Mary gasped at the water pump, the stack of firewood, the grey clouds above.

Defeated by the controls on the cooker, Manju diced raw onion into yoghurt, garnished with coriander. Mary grated raw carrot into cream. Wisdom worth more than money, both felt they’d won.