Long recognized as perhaps the greatest non-fiction writer at work in Ireland, for his vast, polymathic accounts of nature and culture in the Aran Islands and Connemara, Tim Robinson is also an essayist of genius whose fascinations range across the globe. In Experiments on Reality, he shines the light of his intelligence on his own life, and on some of the most fascinating questions in science and culture.
Robinson brings us to his boyhood in Yorkshire, National Service in Malaya in the 1950s, and his years as a visual artist in Istanbul, Vienna and London. He revisits some of the scenes of his researches for the maps he made of Aran and Connemara, places that continue to throw up remarkable stories and puzzles. And he performs astonishing literary thought-experiments, playing with the boundaries of the essay form, scientific inquiry, and storytelling. Experiments on Reality is a masterpiece from one of the great minds of our time.
Timothy Robinson (1935 – 2020) was an English writer, artist and cartographer. A native of Yorkshire, Robinson studied maths at Cambridge and then worked for many years as a visual artist in Istanbul, Vienna and London, among other places. In 1972 he moved to the Aran Islands, and in 1984 he settled in Roundstone, Connemara. In 1986 his first book, Stones of Aran: Pilgrimage, was published to great acclaim. The second volume of Stones of Aran, subtitled Labyrinth, appeared in 1995. His last work was the Connemara trilogy. He died of Covid-19 in 2020.
I generally like his writing but his collection of miscellaneous bits and pieces left me cold. There was no theme to these writings. It's a miscellany with some very tedious longer pieces on mathematics and astronomy. This is far from his best work/
This is a collection of essays, musings, experiences. It is a thin book but still took a week to read. Mainly due to the sometimes convoluted text and as always those Irish pronunciations. The last essay to my mind is the best, almost a drawing together of all the threads of Robinson's life. I think that is what this book is, a reflection, perhaps longing, for the explorations of his past days. I could not discern any other thread that ran through all the writing. As usual, I found I had to work hard in many sections, sometimes to exasperation, to get the reward of those few words that will stay with me.