Dimensions
136 x 220 x 28mm
A humorous journey around Britain discovering the history of the eccentrics, crackpots and visionaries who have tried to measure and predict the weather.
Tom Fort, whose writing has been variously described as ‘jocund’, ‘slightly loopy’, ‘ unbelievably poignant’ and ‘deeply peculiar’, travels around Britain experiencing some of its extreme climates and some of its more typical with a view to explaining what we make and have made of the British weather and what it has made of us.
There are two interlocking strands: the story of those who – moved to an exceptional, sometimes obsessive degree by the fascination felt by so many of us – sought to know and understand our weather; and the story of its impact on us – our history, our culture, the way we think and behave. He focuses on the people – the clergymen, the gentlemen of
leisure, the crackpots, visionaries, charlatans and shysters, all now largely or utterly forgotten – who volunteered and toiled for the cause, telling their stories by tracking them down to the places – usually their own gardens – where they indulged their quite passion for measuring rainfall, scrutinizing dewdrops, tapping their barometers and peering at
their thermometers. Once their age – of the amateur scientist – was over, and the business of weather forecasting was annexed by professionals with state backing it became a less colourful affair.
The historical strand is, in part, a straightforward chronology; an account of the part played by climate in our history; how, when the sun shone and rain fell in gentle abundance, we prospered and multiplied; how, when the climate cooled, bringing wet summers and savage winters, we perished by plague and famine and retreated from places made unbelievable; how in time, as we matured from a rural, peasant society, our weather became less a matter of life and death (though always on absorbing interest). But beyond that there is another dimension to its influence on us – the moral and spiritual one. This is contentious, but intriguing: the extent to which we share as view of ‘our weather’, and the
extent to which it may have shaped us into the people we are.
