The Imperial student’s bookshelf
Being an upstanding student publication priding itself on quality journalism, Felix would never stoop as low as stereotyping; nevertheless, it takes a certain kind of student to come to and work at Imperial. If you’re wondering what it’s going to take to get you through the three, four or however many years left, then… well, this article isn’t going to be as much use as a trip down to the Union is. If you want to know what kind of books keeps the average Imperial brain ticking over, though, read on – here’s Felix’s shortlist of Must Reads for Life at a Science and Technology College.
The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy – Douglas Adams
It’s difficult to place just how important this is to students at Imperial. Being a very British comedy based on the most British entertainment imaginable – a BBC Radio Four production written by Adams – it’s fermented in its own cult status for a good couple of decades now, and holds a dubious sort of fame, mingled with the shame of being responsible for the extremely overdone joke about that number, which we’re definitely not going to mention.
The book – which is the first in the five-part trilogy, but arguably the best anyway – charts the adventures of Arthur Dent, a rather unfortunate chap from Guildford, who ends up narrowly escaping vaporisation when Earth is destroyed in the first chapter of the book. Stowing away on board a spacecraft with his best friend Ford Prefect, he soon discovers that his friend’s secret alien identity is the least traumatic thing the universe has in store for him.
You don’t need an English sense of humour to appreciate the clever wit and charming philosophy of Arthur’s search for The Answer to, what else, The Question Of Life, The Universe And Everything. However, it doesn’t strike a chord with everyone. While it remains one of Geekdom’s rites of passage to read Adams’ best-loved work, you may find it too surreal to push on through. It’s worth sticking with though, as the writing is extremely funny and though it’s been quoted to death, Arthur’s quest is as clever today as it was when it first aired on the Beeb all those years ago.
The Selfish Gene – Richard Dawkins
This is a difficult one, but whether you agree with Dawkins’ line of argument or not it’s hard to deny his impact on the public conception of modern-day science, ethics and society. His most widely-read book, The Selfish Gene, outlines his views on the modern-day interpretation of Charles Darwin’s original theory of evolution as published in The Origin Of The Species. He expands on the topic, relating the concept to a wide number of other areas that Darwin would have had, at best, a limited knowledge of.
Dawkins’ theories are unpalatable to many, as his approach to religion is critical to the point of fundamentalism – and not always the ironic kind. But as scientists of the twenty-first century, Dawkins is one of the big names we cannot afford to ignore. While he might not be throwing his weight around in papers and research as much as other leaders in the field, he has captured the public imagination and continues to challenge people’s view of how science and religion interact with society.
Even without a trace of biology in your degree course, The Selfish Gene is recommended reading. The theories surrounding the selfishness of nature and the implications this has for our own world cannot help but have an impact on most degree courses at Imperial, even if it doesn’t appeal to you on an intellectual level.
Engineering Mathematics, Fifth Edition – K.A. Stroud
Oh yes. Oh baby yes. Those English students over at Kings might think they’re clever, waving their copies of Chaucer and Proust, but when we scientists do textbooks, we really go to town. Stroud’s mammoth mathematics companion is two and a half inches thick, a meaty giant that dominates pretty much any table or bookshelf it’s laid to rest on.
Unless you like Maths, you probably hate Maths. By which I mean, there’s no happy medium. Either you see calculus transformations magically conduct themselves in your mind, or the numbers merge into one big inky mess as you go cross-eyed from staring at the same question for half an hour. Stroud’s book is a brilliant reference for most first-year courses at Imperial, not only offering a selection of topics that crop up in many degree courses, but also hiding a sneaky chunk of A-Level stuff, allowing you to check back on all of those topics you thought you’d never need again last July.
The newer versions are supplied with a CD – which isn’t so great – but the most helpful aspect is the layout of the book itself. It teaches incrementally, a step at a time, making even the most painful topics relatively simple to pick up. Whilst its methods might not always correlate with what you’ve got on your notes, you can at least be sure that you’re getting the right answers.
The Millennium Problems – Keith Devlin
Seven years ago, American philanthropist Landon Clay collated some of the world’s most brilliant mathematical minds to find the seven most crucial challenges the field faces in the twenty-first century. He offered a one million dollar prize for each of the problems, which are now known as The Millennium Problems, and Keith Devlin’s book is a perfect introduction to them.
As students at one of the world’s foremost science and engineering institutions, it’s a real possibility that some of the people destined to solve these puzzles are already enrolled here. They range from unlocking the mysteries of quantum physics to deciphering the true limitations of a computer, and touch all manner of arithmetical and logical cornerstones in between, which Devlin handles in a manner that ensures even if it’s not your field, you’ll understand the challenge.
Is it likely that you’ll see a solution straight away? Not really. Most of these problems are already four or five decades old, and one in particular is touching on two centuries. But the book is delivered with a kind of passion and enthusiasm that is only really found in certain fields of research, and it’s quite possible that this could be the book that you look back in a decade from now as the story that led you on to the field you now work in. It’s a fascinating collection of puzzles with a sense of mystery about their potential for our future.
War And Peace – Leo Tolstoy (Not Dostoyevsky! Print error.)
Alright, not this one specifically (though we’re reliably informed that the Russian masterpiece is pretty absorbing), but we do recommend adding a bit of culture to your bookshelf when you’re stocking up for the year. And no, that doesn’t mean a copy of Heat magazine, or the latest Jeffrey Archer novel. Check out the Penguin Classics line and stock up on one or two real pieces of fiction – one of those books you said you’d read one day, except this time really make an effort to push through.
1984 is a very readable book and has a gritty dystopian flavour that’ll appeal to any fans of sci-fi, or you may even wish to trip further back and try some Jane Austen or Thomas Hardy (we revisit Pride and Prejudice this week, in fact). The Penguin lines are dirt cheap and have the kind of classics that Mark Twain was talking about when he said that “everyone wants to have read [them], but no-one wants to read [them]”. Sure, many of them take a little time getting into, but that should be something you’re able to find, and it doesn’t hurt to keep the culture side of things alive while you’re hammering away at equations, or actually hammering away with a hammer.
If you’re not feeling like going all the way into a big novel, then pick up some plays – it needn’t be Shakespeare. Waiting For Godot is a nicely surreal take on religion and life, and many of Arthur Miller’s plays are really readable, especially The Crucible. Reading is a great form of relaxation, and forces your mind to stop working on whatever it was doing. In four or five weeks from now, you’ll find that’s quite relieving.
The Usborne First Cookbook – Angela Wilkes and Stephen Cartwright
Here’s the problem with ‘Student Cookery’ books – they assume you’d rather have seven utterly disgusting meals a week than four good ones. Not to mention they have some strange fixation with tinned tomatoes that I could never get around. Our advice when it comes to getting a cooking companion for this year is this – get a book that assumes quite literally nothing.
The Usborne First Cookbook is brilliant. It doesn’t tell you how to make soup out of a chicken stock cube, because it knows that if you wanted to improvise you wouldn’t have bought a cookbook. Instead, it focuses on basic meals and cooking techniques, and since it’s written for children it really couldn’t be any more explanatory. Instead of strange spaghetti dishes and instructions on how to dice a cucumber, the book goes through main meals, desserts and party foods, and it even has miniature chefs in the illustrations.
The good part is that the recipes are all flexible, so you leave out the flavourings you don’t like, and over time you’ll find yourself replacing ingredients for others you know will taste better or cook more to your liking. While you can get by your first year without touching a frying pan, it’s always best to have something on-hand in case the desire to cook comes upon you – or everyone else is out and you’re really bloody hungry.
