The Human Touch: Our Part in the Creation of a Universe [Paperback]

Frayn opens his treatise lamenting about disorder in the universe. He wants straight lines, perfect circularity and stability. Why this should be the case in a cosmos initiated by the Big Bang remains unexplained. Seeking solace from scientists, who are reputed to have the universe organised, Frayn is disappointed to learn they lack a certain consistency in their own views of how the universe is organised and operates. Instead, he must fall back on asking philosophical questions about the cosmos, while stoutly disclaiming any role as a philosopher.

Frayn is a man who's learned enough about the universe to be perplexed by what it doesn't tell him. He's not alone in that. As a playwright, however, he has the language skills to explain his confusion in ways the rest of us can comprehend and sympathise with. He doesn't want to appear lofty or arcane, but the subjects run away with him. He's left to narrate the questions as he's discovered them, spicing his personal reflections with what he's learned. It's not possible to touch on how the universe is structured, how language communicates and obscures, or how our minds elude our feeling of possessing control without unearthing a number of philosophical questions. Unlike many in academia, however, Frayn is the gentlest of commentators. He doesn't really criticise the stands taken by many modern philosophical scholars, but then he doesn't really understand most of them, either. He mildly approves, for example, of Daniel Dennett's "Consciousness Explained", then blithely overlooks Dennett's Multiple Drafts Model of how we think. A better understanding would have resolved several of the questions Frayn raises in his discussion of how elusive thoughts are.

Frayn's explanation of the human role in "the creation" of the universe is almost nonexistent. It's a concept as paradoxical as the idea that the world exists only because we perceive it. He's not "anthroarrogant" in any sense, since much of the book is taken up with our own inabilities to figure out not what's going on outsides ourselves, but inside as well. In fact, his concerns about those inabilities are emphatically about his own. He is uncomfortable with the fact that although immense intellects have attempted to define the cosmos, their results only lead to further questions. Nothing is defined and nothing is resolved. Any of us, it would seem, can invent what type of universe we wish - a bit of searching and some "law" can be found that will define it. Even the great test of empirical evidence - can something be forecast from that "law"? falls short. It is this condition that admittedly disturbs Frayn. There are no dogmas to fall back on. Except the rather vague one of anthropocentrism instead of the anthroarrogance the sub-title suggests.

Frayn's approach will woo those readers who sympathise with his confusion about the indeterminate nature of the cosmos. His playwright and novelist experience gives him good insight into how widely his concerns might be shared. He even goes so far as to provide accounts of his own dreams where ideas, characters and events for fiction might be prompted. The background skills give him the ability to impart all his questions and whatever resolutions he's derived from his readings in a style at home on any stage. It's almost as if he's being a play director in dialogue with an audience about the story. Indeed, in several instances, he takes the role of an audience member questioning the issues and his attempted explanations. It's a very effective ploy, and other science writers might take note of the method. Frayn, right or wrong in his ideas, can impart them wonderfully. His moonlighting into philosophy at least deserves a look. [stephen a. haines - Ottawa, Canada]

There are few books which I have started with such high hopes but fairly soon I was starting to have my doubts.

The doubts began when he started to discuss how the discovery of imaginary numbers had subverted the Law of the Excluded Middle. Another reviewer has covered this point very clearly so I will not repeat the arguments here.

The book started well with considerations of cosmology, the laws of nature and causality. Soon, however, we are into rather arid territory looking at actions, motivation, words and language. The book did rally a little towards the end. I woke up briefly for the section on dreaming. I also felt he had an interesting perspective on the artificial intelligence debate.

My suspicion is that the author started with the laudable intention of making difficult subject matter accessible by adopting a chatty, conversational style. I'm afraid that I soon just found it rather hypnotic and soporific. I can understand why other reviewers gave up before reaching the end of the book. A terser style and a book of half the length may have been a better option.

In summary, it is a book which had so much potential and which had such ambitious aims. I'm sorry to say that it fell well short of my expectations.

Oh dear, oh dear. Michael Frayn is one of our best dramatists and a very fine novelist. He is highly adept at taking subjects that are out of the usual and turning them into the real fabric of drama and conflict - post-war German politics in Democracy, seriously high-faluting science in Copenhagen, the world of fine art in Headlong. He's proved himself a very special translator, especially of Chekhov. He's the brilliant farceur who brought us Noises Off. And he's a genuinely perceptive and moving storyteller in books like Lies.

But this foray into the worlds of philosophy, cosmology and quite a few other ologies besides really will not do. It starts off (and continues right through) being thoroughly approachable and readable - well, you'd expect nothing less from Frayn. Hopes are raised. This is a mate talking in the pub. But that's precisely the problem. This is all not much more than the stuff of smoky freshman student rooms in the early hours and even smokier pubs after a few too many bevvies in hoarier middle-age. We actually do seem to be talking about the Meaning of Life and the like here. And it does at times descend to the level of, "What it means depends what you mean by mean". Is that a bunch of angels I just saw dancing on the head of that pin?

There is the old saw "Cobbler, stick to your last." Mr. Frayn should perhaps take that advice to avoid producing a load more cobbler's awls like this one.