The Librarian Who Measured the Earth [Englisch] [Gebundene Ausgabe]

Illustrating the text with warmth and humor, Hawkes' acrylic paintings capture the period details of the setting and clarify the geometric concepts used in the measurement. The often dramatic compositions vary from page to page, while the sunlit reds, oranges, and yellows glow brightly against the cooler blues and greens. Even unnamed characters look like individuals, with their own concerns and personalities. Hawkes' attention to detail and his occasional visual humor will reward any child who studies the illustrations.

Entertaining as well as instructional, the text presents the man, the story, the geometry, the geography, and the ancient world itself in simple prose. Lasky can be commended for making history so readable. And yet . . . is it history? Is it biography? Or is it fiction?

In the introductory "Author's Note," Lasky explains that there are gaps in our knowledge of Eratosthenes and that "we cannot fill them in by making up facts, but we can try to responsibly imagine based on what we already know, which is what I've tried to do in this book." Unfortunately, the reader has no way of knowing what parts of the book are factual and what parts spring from Lasky's imagination. As a baby, was Eratosthenes really "curious and full of wonder"? Well, probably; most babies fit that description. Did he "crawl across the kitchen floor to follow the path of ants"? Maybe. Did he wonder "why there were beads of water on the cistern in the morning" and "why the stars stayed in the sky"? Or did the author "responsibly imagine" that part? How about the details of school life at the gymnasium in Cyrene? Was Eratosthenes "a real whiz in math" as a schoolboy? Or does Lasky imagine that he must have been a whiz as a child because of his later achievements in the field as an adult?

A more careful wording of the text would separate knowledge from supposition, a fundamental principle of scholarship. When she speaks of Eratosthenes measuring the earth's circumference, Lasky says, "Perhaps he imagined the earth as a grapefruit." The word perhaps makes all the difference. If she had taken that approach from the beginning, this book would be outstanding. As fragmentary as the record may be, there's something special about real history, and readers can sense it.

The old juvenile biographies with invented conversations fell out of favor for good reason. Readers count on nonfiction to deliver the truth: maybe not the whole truth, but nothing but the truth, within the limits of the author's knowledge. Eratosthenes sounds like a fascinating man, but it's difficult to sort out which parts of this book are historically accurate and which are not. The author's and illustrator's bibliographies of 25 books and articles reassure us that they know what is history and what is invention. But in calling the book a biography, the author has a responsibility to let readers know, as well. Otherwise, the book should be placed in the equally respectable category of historical fiction, which also requires enormous research but gives greater range for an author's imagination.

Although flawed in its presentation of the main character, The Librarian Who Measured the Earth belongs in many libraries because it contains an entertaining introduction to the ancient world, a clear explanation of Eratosthenes' measurement of the earth, and remarkably vibrant illustrations. Carolyn Phelan