Peter Ackroyd’s Newton (published in 2006) is a somewhat boring rendition of the really amazing life of Isaac Newton.  With such a character as Newton, a truly quirky and eccentric genius, the story of his life  — especially told briefly as Ackroyd hawks his biographies as “Ackroyd’s Brief Lives” — should have been fast-paced and absolutely awe-inspiring, with no yawns induced at all.  Let me try:

Newton was born on Christmas Morning 1642 into the yeoman class: his family  owned a manor house, some land, and had tenants working on the land.  He was so sickly and weak that it was doubted he would last the night but he did. His father had died months before and so the baby was given his name: Isaac.  Ackroyd writes:  “It is the usual familial chemistry of male children who go on to distinguish themselves” that the mother is from more genteel background than the father.  I am not disputing this, but really Mr. Ackroyd?  Anyone else you’d care to mention?

Anyway, back to Sir Isaac.  His mother remarried and the new husband insisted that Isaac be left behind in the manor house with his grandmother.  Living a solitary life alone there with granny he began his lifelong talent of observation.  Observing and learning, he walked through the countryside and sat beneath the trees, looking up at the sky, wondering and thinking.  Eventually he sat until an apple fell and sparked in him the genius notion of universal gravity.  By this time he was at Trinity College, Cambridge University, and his great mind was being recognized by all who came to teach him and work with him.  He was touchy about any criticism and he could hold a grudge; he would rather keep his experiments and observations and genius deductions to himself rather than expose them to a world that would steal and criticize and not appreciate just how damn smart he was. Newton built whatever equipment he needed to prove his propositions and he was meticulous and dogged and demanding. He did not believe himself to be wrong often and he wasn’t; even if his calculations were off, his propositions were correct.  His observations on universal gravitation and the three laws of motion were brilliant and began the scientific revolution that we are still living today, with our knowledge of space and time expanding out from his observations and deductions.

Newton studied alchemy, biblical texts, light and planets and comets, and he used the method of “observe, record and deduce”, using mathematical equations to prove what needed proving.  Ackroyd gets it right when he states: “Newton created a system of the universe – of force and inertia and mass, of action and reaction – that remains unsurpassed in its reliability and efficiency” and his methods of observation, deduction and calculation are still used today.

What Newton always had and never lost was a strong curiosity that raised questions about things he observed and the discipline to answer those questions through hard work.  His curiosity was of the natural and mystical world; his questions were practical as well as spiritual.  His curiosity never waned, his observations never stopped, he went on seeing and thinking and wondering his whole life.  Curiosity plus a rigorous mind: that is what we should want for ourselves, for our political leaders, for our children, for writers and film makers and artists and banker, lawyers, librarians, teachers.  For everyone.

Newton is known for his “reason” but in fact his wondrous mind went way beyond what was reasonable;  he sought the answers to the universe while always remaining in awe of the universe.  He never sought to master the universe but rather to revere it by seeking to understand the amazing way it all works.  Ackroyd ends with lines by Alexander Pope and they are good ones for me to end with also:

Nature and Nature’s Laws lay hid in night;
God said, Let Newton be!  And All was Light.