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In The Secrets of Alchemy, Lawrence M. Principe, one of the world’s leading authorities on the subject, brings alchemy out of the shadows and restores it to its important place in human history and culture. By surveying what alchemy was and how it began, developed, and overlapped with a range of ideas and pursuits, Principe illuminates the practice. He vividly depicts the place of alchemy during its heyday in early modern Europe, and then explores how alchemy has fit into wider views of the cosmos and humanity, touching on its enduring place in literature, fine art, theater, and religion as well as its recent acceptance as a serious subject of study for historians of science. In addition, he introduces the reader to some of the most fascinating alchemists, such as Zosimos and Basil Valentine, whose lives dot alchemy’s long reign from the third century and to the present day. Through his exploration of alchemists and their times, Principe pieces together closely guarded clues from obscure and fragmented texts to reveal alchemy’s secrets, and—most exciting for budding alchemists—uses them to recreate many of the most famous recipes in his lab, including those for the “glass of antimony” and “philosophers’ tree.” This unique approach brings the reader closer to the actual work of alchemy than any other book. Review: The Alchemical Marauder's Map - I'll confess that the title of my review here is drawn from a published review, but in my defense it's a review that I wrote. As I've done with other scholarly books that I've reviewed, I'll cut and paste the entire text here. Before that here's the full citation: Neeraja Sankaran (2014). The British Journal for the History of Science, 47, pp 372-374 doi:10.1017/S0007087414000235 Full review: Any academic book that makes allusions to Harry Potter (the books, not the movies) that go beyond paying lip-service to the pop culture of the day gets my vote. By this token Lawrence Principe’s The Secrets of Alchemy is an undisputed top contender because it makes meaningful and context-appropriate references to J.K. Rowling’s popular series not just once or twice, but on three separate occasions. Principe begins, in the introduction, by recalling the coveted philosopher’s stone that alchemists of yore believed could turn lead into gold and by deploring its corruption into ‘the meaningless “Sorcerer’s Stone”’ in the title of the American edition of the first Harry Potter book (p. 1). (How I cheered when I read that!) The books were invoked again in a fascinating discussion of the basilisk, that ‘hideously deadly reptile able to kill with a single glance’ (p. 54), which made its appearance several times in the series, and yet again (p. 227) in connection with an eighteenth-century legend about the philosopher’s stone’s ability to confer longevity on one Nicholas Flamel, whose story was reprised in the first Potter book. Stones and reptiles with magical powers are not the only curious objects nor Harry Potter the only popular or literary source that Principe alludes to in this long-awaited history of one of the most mysterious of all archaic sciences. Indeed, The Secrets of Alchemy is a treasure trove of fascinating tidbits of information about the sometimes unexpected guises and places in which the subject appears to us today. For instance, did you know that the popular culinary technique we Stones and reptiles with magical powers are not the only curious objects nor Harry Potter the only popular or literary source that Principe alludes to in this long-awaited history of one of the most mysterious of all archaic sciences. Indeed, The Secrets of Alchemy is a treasure trove of fascinating tidbits of information about the sometimes unexpected guises and places in which the subject appears to us today. For instance, did you know that the popular culinary technique we know of today as the bain-marie (in French) or bagno maria (in Italian) is the possible legacy of an ancient alchemist named Maria Judaea or Mary the Jew (pp. 15–16)? We do not have this information because of any modern attempt to restore the place of women in the history of science (although admittedly that needs doing, and this book may be a good starting point for such a project for readers so inclined). Rather, we know about Maria Judaea because of the frequent citations of her inventions of apparatus and techniques by Zosimos of Panopolis, a Graeco-Egyptian from around AD 300, whom Principe identifies as the earliest alchemist about whom we have any ‘reliable historical details’ and fragments of whose writings have survived to this day (pp. 14–16). Medieval misogyny is revealed as rampant in the Paracelsian tract On the Nature of Things, in which the creation of the horrific basilisk – as a product of putrefaction of menstrual blood (and thus purely female-derived) – is described in contrast to the creation, from similarly treated semen, of a homunculus, which was believed to be ‘endowed with special powers and gifts not shared by ordinary human beings, because its purity is unpolluted by the admixture of female elements’ (p. 132). The homunculus, incidentally, is an important character in the second part of Faust by Goethe, another author whose dabblings in alchemy are mentioned by Principe. Yet another alchemical hand-me-down is our word ‘gas’, coined in the seventeenth century by Joan Baptista Van Helmont from ‘chaos’ to define the ‘noncondensable substance more subtle than any vapor’ left over from the destruction of any solid or liquid substance by fire (p. 134). know of today as the bain-marie (in French) or bagno maria (in Italian) is the possible legacy of an ancient alchemist named Maria Judaea or Mary the Jew (pp. 15–16)? We do not have this information because of any modern attempt to restore the place of women in the history of science (although admittedly that needs doing, and this book may be a good starting point for such a project for readers so inclined). Rather, we know about Maria Judaea because of the frequent citations of her inventions of apparatus and techniques by Zosimos of Panopolis, a Graeco-Egyptian from around AD 300, whom Principe identifies as the earliest alchemist about whom we have any ‘reliable historical details’ and fragments of whose writings have survived to this day (pp. 14–16). Medieval misogyny is revealed as rampant in the Paracelsian tract On the Nature of Things, in which the creation of the horrific basilisk – as a product of putrefaction of menstrual blood (and thus purely female-derived) – is described in contrast to the creation, from similarly treated semen, of a homunculus, which was believed to be ‘endowed with special powers and gifts not shared by ordinary human beings, because its purity is unpolluted by the admixture of female elements’ (p. 132). The homunculus, incidentally, is an important character in the second part of Faust by Goethe, another author whose dabblings in alchemy are mentioned by Principe. Yet another alchemical hand-me-down is our word ‘gas’, coined in the seventeenth century by Joan Baptista Van Helmont from ‘chaos’ to define the ‘noncondensable substance more subtle than any vapor’ left over from the destruction of any solid or liquid substance by fire (p. 134). I could go on ad infinitum with other such references but will leave the interested readers to discover these gems for themselves and turn to the value of this book other than in providing arcana with which to entertain and impress others. Scholars of the history of alchemy and of medieval and early modern science have already offered their commentaries – very positive ones – in their reviews of The Secrets of Alchemy, mentioning the myriad ways in which this book adds to the scholarship of their field. (See, for example, Jenny Rampling in Science (2012) 491, p. 38; and Anna Marie Roos in Studies in History and Philosophy of Biological and Biomedical Sciences (2013) 44, pp. 787–789). But Principe aimed his book at ‘the nonspecialist, the general reader and the student’ (p. 3), and as a reader in this latter category, I prefer to comment on what we stand to get from this book. First, the accessible language and detailed information about ‘foundational figures who can act as reckoning points within the long alchemical tradition’ (p. 4) make this an ideal book to use as the spine or core around which to build an introductory course in the history of alchemy or chemistry (or chymistry, to borrow the author’s terminology). Principe’s main motivation in writing this book was to ‘make some of the enormous wealth of recent discoveries about alchemy accessible to a wider audience’ (p. 3) and he has succeeded most admirably in this regard. Secrets of Alchemy is the type of book I wish had been published about a decade and a half ago, when I was in search of a PhD dissertation topic. It is a goldmine of ideas and sources for scholarship in a field that is rife with opportunity, and I must admit I am envious of those of you student readers who have such a wonderful Marauder’s Map (another Harry Potter reference) to help you navigate your way through those early days of graduate school. Review: Fantastic - Not sure how it popped into my head, but I decided I wanted to learn about the history of alchemy. I looked for a book with that minimal background and stumbled across this book... boy did I get lucky. This book scratched the exact itch and then some. It is a relatively short book as far as history books go (~200pgs), but it makes the most of every page. It gives a great high-level overview of what is meant by alchemy and how that relates to the history of chemistry. It does a great job covering the historiography (what sources to do we have and how have they influenced our understanding?) and focuses mainly on the key historical figures, many of which are beyond colorful. There are also many other historical figures touched on that you will surely recognize: Aristotle, Plato, Pythagoras, Paracelsus, Geoffrey Chaucer, Isaac Newton, Robert Boyle... the list goes on. The best part? The author has background as both historian and scientist, and I would argue only someone with that type of background could do the topic justice. The author goes to the lengths of performing experiments to prove out historical methods and put us in the shoes of those figures. The results are surprising and informative. Oh, and the author is engaging and downright funny. The chapter walking through the ancient instructions or "12 keys" involved in chrysopoeia (turning metal into gold), deciphering the coded messages, etc. read like a mystery novel and was an absolute page-turner. Highly recommend this book even if you have a cursory interest in the subject.
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| Customer Reviews | 4.4 out of 5 stars 242 Reviews |
N**N
The Alchemical Marauder's Map
I'll confess that the title of my review here is drawn from a published review, but in my defense it's a review that I wrote. As I've done with other scholarly books that I've reviewed, I'll cut and paste the entire text here. Before that here's the full citation: Neeraja Sankaran (2014). The British Journal for the History of Science, 47, pp 372-374 doi:10.1017/S0007087414000235 Full review: Any academic book that makes allusions to Harry Potter (the books, not the movies) that go beyond paying lip-service to the pop culture of the day gets my vote. By this token Lawrence Principe’s The Secrets of Alchemy is an undisputed top contender because it makes meaningful and context-appropriate references to J.K. Rowling’s popular series not just once or twice, but on three separate occasions. Principe begins, in the introduction, by recalling the coveted philosopher’s stone that alchemists of yore believed could turn lead into gold and by deploring its corruption into ‘the meaningless “Sorcerer’s Stone”’ in the title of the American edition of the first Harry Potter book (p. 1). (How I cheered when I read that!) The books were invoked again in a fascinating discussion of the basilisk, that ‘hideously deadly reptile able to kill with a single glance’ (p. 54), which made its appearance several times in the series, and yet again (p. 227) in connection with an eighteenth-century legend about the philosopher’s stone’s ability to confer longevity on one Nicholas Flamel, whose story was reprised in the first Potter book. Stones and reptiles with magical powers are not the only curious objects nor Harry Potter the only popular or literary source that Principe alludes to in this long-awaited history of one of the most mysterious of all archaic sciences. Indeed, The Secrets of Alchemy is a treasure trove of fascinating tidbits of information about the sometimes unexpected guises and places in which the subject appears to us today. For instance, did you know that the popular culinary technique we Stones and reptiles with magical powers are not the only curious objects nor Harry Potter the only popular or literary source that Principe alludes to in this long-awaited history of one of the most mysterious of all archaic sciences. Indeed, The Secrets of Alchemy is a treasure trove of fascinating tidbits of information about the sometimes unexpected guises and places in which the subject appears to us today. For instance, did you know that the popular culinary technique we know of today as the bain-marie (in French) or bagno maria (in Italian) is the possible legacy of an ancient alchemist named Maria Judaea or Mary the Jew (pp. 15–16)? We do not have this information because of any modern attempt to restore the place of women in the history of science (although admittedly that needs doing, and this book may be a good starting point for such a project for readers so inclined). Rather, we know about Maria Judaea because of the frequent citations of her inventions of apparatus and techniques by Zosimos of Panopolis, a Graeco-Egyptian from around AD 300, whom Principe identifies as the earliest alchemist about whom we have any ‘reliable historical details’ and fragments of whose writings have survived to this day (pp. 14–16). Medieval misogyny is revealed as rampant in the Paracelsian tract On the Nature of Things, in which the creation of the horrific basilisk – as a product of putrefaction of menstrual blood (and thus purely female-derived) – is described in contrast to the creation, from similarly treated semen, of a homunculus, which was believed to be ‘endowed with special powers and gifts not shared by ordinary human beings, because its purity is unpolluted by the admixture of female elements’ (p. 132). The homunculus, incidentally, is an important character in the second part of Faust by Goethe, another author whose dabblings in alchemy are mentioned by Principe. Yet another alchemical hand-me-down is our word ‘gas’, coined in the seventeenth century by Joan Baptista Van Helmont from ‘chaos’ to define the ‘noncondensable substance more subtle than any vapor’ left over from the destruction of any solid or liquid substance by fire (p. 134). know of today as the bain-marie (in French) or bagno maria (in Italian) is the possible legacy of an ancient alchemist named Maria Judaea or Mary the Jew (pp. 15–16)? We do not have this information because of any modern attempt to restore the place of women in the history of science (although admittedly that needs doing, and this book may be a good starting point for such a project for readers so inclined). Rather, we know about Maria Judaea because of the frequent citations of her inventions of apparatus and techniques by Zosimos of Panopolis, a Graeco-Egyptian from around AD 300, whom Principe identifies as the earliest alchemist about whom we have any ‘reliable historical details’ and fragments of whose writings have survived to this day (pp. 14–16). Medieval misogyny is revealed as rampant in the Paracelsian tract On the Nature of Things, in which the creation of the horrific basilisk – as a product of putrefaction of menstrual blood (and thus purely female-derived) – is described in contrast to the creation, from similarly treated semen, of a homunculus, which was believed to be ‘endowed with special powers and gifts not shared by ordinary human beings, because its purity is unpolluted by the admixture of female elements’ (p. 132). The homunculus, incidentally, is an important character in the second part of Faust by Goethe, another author whose dabblings in alchemy are mentioned by Principe. Yet another alchemical hand-me-down is our word ‘gas’, coined in the seventeenth century by Joan Baptista Van Helmont from ‘chaos’ to define the ‘noncondensable substance more subtle than any vapor’ left over from the destruction of any solid or liquid substance by fire (p. 134). I could go on ad infinitum with other such references but will leave the interested readers to discover these gems for themselves and turn to the value of this book other than in providing arcana with which to entertain and impress others. Scholars of the history of alchemy and of medieval and early modern science have already offered their commentaries – very positive ones – in their reviews of The Secrets of Alchemy, mentioning the myriad ways in which this book adds to the scholarship of their field. (See, for example, Jenny Rampling in Science (2012) 491, p. 38; and Anna Marie Roos in Studies in History and Philosophy of Biological and Biomedical Sciences (2013) 44, pp. 787–789). But Principe aimed his book at ‘the nonspecialist, the general reader and the student’ (p. 3), and as a reader in this latter category, I prefer to comment on what we stand to get from this book. First, the accessible language and detailed information about ‘foundational figures who can act as reckoning points within the long alchemical tradition’ (p. 4) make this an ideal book to use as the spine or core around which to build an introductory course in the history of alchemy or chemistry (or chymistry, to borrow the author’s terminology). Principe’s main motivation in writing this book was to ‘make some of the enormous wealth of recent discoveries about alchemy accessible to a wider audience’ (p. 3) and he has succeeded most admirably in this regard. Secrets of Alchemy is the type of book I wish had been published about a decade and a half ago, when I was in search of a PhD dissertation topic. It is a goldmine of ideas and sources for scholarship in a field that is rife with opportunity, and I must admit I am envious of those of you student readers who have such a wonderful Marauder’s Map (another Harry Potter reference) to help you navigate your way through those early days of graduate school.
C**N
Fantastic
Not sure how it popped into my head, but I decided I wanted to learn about the history of alchemy. I looked for a book with that minimal background and stumbled across this book... boy did I get lucky. This book scratched the exact itch and then some. It is a relatively short book as far as history books go (~200pgs), but it makes the most of every page. It gives a great high-level overview of what is meant by alchemy and how that relates to the history of chemistry. It does a great job covering the historiography (what sources to do we have and how have they influenced our understanding?) and focuses mainly on the key historical figures, many of which are beyond colorful. There are also many other historical figures touched on that you will surely recognize: Aristotle, Plato, Pythagoras, Paracelsus, Geoffrey Chaucer, Isaac Newton, Robert Boyle... the list goes on. The best part? The author has background as both historian and scientist, and I would argue only someone with that type of background could do the topic justice. The author goes to the lengths of performing experiments to prove out historical methods and put us in the shoes of those figures. The results are surprising and informative. Oh, and the author is engaging and downright funny. The chapter walking through the ancient instructions or "12 keys" involved in chrysopoeia (turning metal into gold), deciphering the coded messages, etc. read like a mystery novel and was an absolute page-turner. Highly recommend this book even if you have a cursory interest in the subject.
B**.
A bit dry but very informative.
My curiosity about alchemy is now sated. This is an informative book but not exactly a quick read. If you are interested in alchemy it is worth reading and at less than 200 pages in the main text it is not very long.
R**T
Delightful! Exactly what I hoped for.
This book is exactly what I was hoping for: a casually readable but serious investigation of the history of alchemy, explanation of their arcane language, chemical foundations, and especially a telescope onto the mind of proto-scientific mankind. The book is very well written and easily readable, but so delightfully informative. The author’s own experiments with centuries-old alchemical recipes was the icing on the cake—to understand the old methods with 21st century science and cinch a complete understanding of what they claimed to be doing vs. what was actually occurring. This is one of the most satisfying books I’ve read on any topic in years. Thank you!
S**M
Pain-stakingly researched summary of the Alchemical traditional
Whether you’re seeking an introductory piece on Alchemy or you’ve been staring into the crucible for years, this book offers priceless wisdom of the multi-millennial tradition. No one doubts the confusing nature of the art and sifting through the mountains of accounts on it throughout history would take a lifetime. Luckily, our author has devoted countless hours reading, deciphering and putting into practice an impressively cited cannon of Alchemical works. The investigation into Basil Valentine’s 12 keys is exceptional and hard to put down. Being a scientific/historical scholar, I understand the author would not want to betray his position, but I believe a better exploration of the glaring spiritual tradition overlap of Alchemy and Eastern concepts could have been addressed more fairly. Although the matter was briefly touched on with subjects like AE Waite (and I doubt the author’s final assessment on Waite’s opinion of Alchemy), it seems the book dismisses the whole matter outright while entirely neglecting major trends that appear repeatedly in Alchemical history like the caduceus or oddly accurate depictions of energy body centers. The book unfortunately disregards any notion of spiritual progress outlined in the tradition as religio-scientific thinking of the times and anything else as a 19th century fantasy. Even so, I can’t recommend ‘The Secrets of Alchemy’ enough and whether you lean toward the metaphysical, psychological, or practical chemical trends of Alchemy, this book is a sobering and necessary account of what we all are searching for in Alchemy: a transformation of the base metal into an exalted form
A**.
A very scholarly review of Alchemy
This is not a book you might want to pick up for a little light reading on the subject. It is well written with lots of in depth technical information
M**I
I knew I was on the right track!
Back in the '80s I was dabbling in alchemy, trying to decipher the allegoric drawings in Balise Valentin's 12 keys and other alchemy books like Fulcanelli's. I came to the conclusion that it was the same story repeated over and over: cold vs warm, male vs female, dead vs reborn. Later, as I was collecting ancient science books, I obtained a "book of secrets" from the 1500's from the alchemist Pedemontani; aka JJ Wecker. My joke was that the gold making wasn't working out, so these scientists had to make a living by publishing - very successfully - do-it-yourself books. The Secrets of Alchemy put these two disparate worlds together, and it all make sense! The author obviously loves his subject, respects it and has the depth of understanding I will likely never have. His re-creations of experiments was my favorite part of the book. Once stripped of the modern thinking (my copper sulfate was 99.9% pure, I never thought that I should play with impurities), and replaced in the context of the time (the inter-connectivity of all things), alchemy becomes a solid and reasonable pursuit of practical knowledge. The emphasis is on "practical", which now explains these "books of secrets". A great read, an even better read the second time around if you prepare your mind to think like a 1500's scientist. I do hope there will be a sequel, more keys, more historical context, more religious interferences, more insights in the every day lives of these undervalued scientists.
T**D
Alchemy, a Hot Topic!
Principe captures a good deal of history in this slender volume. Despite his reasons for giving no attention to Chinese and Indian alchemy, the book seems incomplete. The "secrets" of alchemy turn out mostly to be historical corrections that have surfaced with new research. There may be, for example, more than one Jabir, or none at all! Also missing was any discussion of the role of the Feminine in alchemical work (soror mystica) and philosophy (Anima Mundi). The only woman mentioned is Mary Ann Atwood; Cleopatra and Maria Prophetissa don't even make a cameo appearance. While I was impressed that Principe actually engages in alchemical laboratory work, I was disappointed that his proofs of Valentine and Starkey's allegorical recipes (that do in fact produce real results), are chemically derived. Principe does not apply anything other than his chemical and historical knowledge to the work. Personal psychic involvement is precisely what differentiates alchemy from its spiritless scion, chemistry. Nevertheless, the book moves along at a good pace and Principe does a good job describing alchemy as a discipline by brilliant, thoughtful, intuitive scientists; no apologies are needed nor is there any defense against the popular superstitions surrounding the Noble Art. The book is well written and offers accessible scholarship. Principe certainly has a vast knowledge of this difficult subject. I most particularly appreciate his statement, "Alchemy is now a hot topic among historians of science." Alchemical Psychology: Old Recipes for Living in a New World
A**N
Not just the Philosophers Stone!
The first thing to note about this book is that the title is somewhat misleading. It would be more accurate to call it a history of alchemy. I was nearly put off buying it because of its title, but in retrospect I'm glad I wasn't, because it's a very interesting book. What the author sets out to do is to restore an understanding alchemy within its historical and cultural framework. I think he succeeds in this aim. There is in Western society a tendency to think of alchemy as being something vaguely to do with magic - but nothing could be further from the truth. The work of most alchemists would be recognized today as experimentally rigorous, and based on the best theories of the nature of matter that existed at the time. Take, for instance, the search for the legendary Philosopher's Stone, the secret of turning lead into gold. We know that's not possible to do chemically today. Why do we know that? Because we know that lead and gold are elements. The elements are defined by the number of protons in their nucleus. Chemical reactions only work on the electrons in atoms, and you can't change the make up of an atomic nucleus by fiddling with its electrons. But we didn't find this out until about a hundred years ago. In the golden age of alchemy, which roughly coincides with the Scientific Revolution (1500-1700), the belief was that matter was a compound, and the properties of any given piece of matter were determined by the proportions of more fundamental substances. Theoretically, if this were the case it should have been possible to change, for instance, lead into gold by altering those proportions in lead until they matched the proportions that defined gold. It was this theoretical view that drove the search for a substance that alter these proportions. (This is a simplified view the book explains in much more detail.) The book covers the history of alchemy from it's beginnings in the third century AD through to its effective demise at the end of the 19th Century. Along the way it it discusses many other aspects of alchemy, including its impact on early medicine, laboratory work, and chemistry. It also looks in more depth at some of the work of famous alchemists, including the attempts of the author to recreate their work in the lab - with interesting results. Well worth a read if you have any interest in the history of science.
購**者
専門書にしては平易な英語で書かれていて、お求め安いお値段
プリンチーペ、「錬金術の秘密」の原書。分かりやすく平易な英語で書かれていて、思い切って原書を購入して良かった。日本語の翻訳版は少し高価であり、電子版では辞書機能もあり便利だった。当初は「ルネサンスバロックのブックガイド」を参照して気になったので購入した。
A**O
Referências atualizadas e texto claro
Livro atualizado com varias referencias o autor mostra seus experimentos em alquimia em que mostra a eficácia de muitos experimentos em se produzir resultados químicos em destilação o que quebra o conceito popular de a alquimia era pura especulação. Para o autor a alquimia em sua forte experimentação apresenta características que mais tarde serão desenvolvidas na Revolução Cientifica. O livro está muito alinhado com o Destilling Knowledge do Bruce Moran, os dois se complementam.
R**N
Fortitudo fortitudinis fortissima.
Trovare un buon libro sull'alchimia è un'impresa ardua. Ho incominciato ad interessarmi a questa tecnica leggendo la biografia di Newton, il quale la studiava tanto approfonditamente quanto la sua matematica e la meccanica. L'alchimia - checché ne dica l'imperante verbo riduzionista - è prima di tutto un fenomeno culturale, una fase indispensabile nello sviluppo delle scienze naturali, che occupava i massimi studiosi per mille e cinquecento anni della storia umana. Ritengo che questo sia un libro che puo' essere citato dall'inizio fino alla fine. È incredibilmente informativo, dinamico e ammaliante. L'apoteosi della narrazione è la ricreazione di reazioni alchemiche da fonti medievali nel laboratorio dell'autore, con formule e fotografie. Ad esempio, l'autore riesce a ottenere l'evaporazione dell'oro e la sua sublimazione sotto forma di cristalli rossi (il sangue di drago) ma solo dopo lunghi e persistenti tentativi di ricreare accuratamente il processo da un testo cifrato. L'evaporazione dell'oro era considerata da molti un passaggio fondamentale per ottenere la pietra filosofale ed era persino descritta come "fortitudo fortitudinis fortissima" (la più complessa complessità della complessità). Anche in condizioni moderne, nelle apposite beute e a temperatura controllata, l'autore descrive il processo come “estremamente difficile”, ma comunque possibile. Un altro esempio è la produzione del “mercurio filosofico”, in questo caso l'antimonio metallico, e la “rivitalizzazione” dell'oro con questo antimonio. Il processo durò un mese all'autore, ma una mattina scoprì che improvvisamente un pezzo di lega amorfo si trasformò in un "albero filosofico" (una massa argentea di cristalli).
1**C
A good book on Alchemy without the Woo.
But Principe also talks about his own experiments and how they don't work by our modern understanding of elements and minerals. Still, by the alchemists' time allotted tools and understanding, they would think that it was the original item and not the continents. So sometimes recreating something with perfect, modern appliances and ingredients create something wholly different. There are even a few photos of such experiments in the book. I found the book enlightening, and an exciting way to look at the science and logic behind something that is often associated with fraudsters. I also found the steps to be more believable than "they were all quacks." There is usually a logic to their thoughts, even if the logic starts at a remote area that no longer exists in our time. The presentation of the information was easy to follow. Even as someone who does not have much of a background in chemistry, I was never confused. But everything is presented fairly and with descriptions as to the why of the matter. If you are interested in some of the more science and anthropological view of alchemy in history, I would suggest reading it. I found it informative and easy to follow.
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