How to be smart *and* funny

In this week’s update: Our live Q&A on Monday and a teaser for October’s book of the month, but first…

I loved our pick for September, Nicola Twilley's Frostbite, not just because it used a fun recipe of science, history and food—but also because was sprinkled with wry observation and a little humor. One club member messaged to say "Didn't think I'd laugh so hard at a book about fridges" which just about sums it up, I think.

It made me think about some other books that left a similar taste. So here are three I thought you might appreciate.

The absolute queen of funny science is Mary Roach, who takes the same approach in each of her books. First she grabs hold of a broadish topic (such as sex, war, digestion) and then she goes on a mildly gonzo journey through it, combing the scientific literature, turning up in unexpected places and finding interesting people who are trying to answer important questions. Her voice is funny in an open, inviting way, and her personality and curiosity always shines through. I recently read 2022’s Fuzz, which looks at the places where animals and humans come into conflict and includes episodes of bear confrontation and gargantuan bureaucratic efforts to sterilize angry monkeys.

But the classic Roach has to be Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers (2003), because the source material is grim enough that her dark wit shines through even more brightly.

Sometimes the humor comes more from the actions and personalities of the characters within than the writers' pen. That's one reason I enjoyed A Dominant Character: The Radical Science and Restless Politics of JBS Haldane (2019), Sumanth Subramanian's biography of a legendary British biologist and intellectual who towered over genetics and public science during the first half of the 20th century.

This is a man who doesn't just fill the page, but busts out of it: a walking set of contradictions, a scientist who would happily conduct experiments on himself, and an anti-establishment communist who also dutifully served his country during two World Wars. His personality alone makes this one a page turner, but Subramanian makes it sing.

Finally, I'm not sure that Potato by Rebecca Earle (2019) is funny exactly, although it certainly made me smile a few times. But there's something about the framing—"Here is a book about the potato"—that just tickled me. It shares common ground with Frostbite since it looks at food and history. It's part of the very-digestible Object Lessons series from Bloomsbury, and changes the way you look at the world around you just like Twilley's book does.

By the way, if you're looking for a bigger read on the same topic, Earle also wrote the more traditionally booky Feeding the People: The Politics of the Potato. I devoured both a few years ago when I was writing about global food shortages*, and enjoyed them greatly.

Enjoy reading!