In his biography of Isaac Newton, which forms the most recent production in this flourishing genre, Niccolò Guicciardini states as his first point of departure that Newton's work arose not from ‘attempts to answer questions that came to him spontaneously, but [from addressing] those posed by his contemporaries’. Right he is to communicate to the larger audience for which he is writing this principal fruit of by now almost a century of professional history-of-science writing – a deep-seated awareness that every (...) scientific view or finding, even if looking timeless in retrospect, has emerged from some given historical context that shows us where the scientist in question started, and that helps explain how, and in what direction, they managed to venture beyond the original context. Indeed, the same truth applies to every genuine – that is, in some way innovative and also worthwhile – contribution to scholarship. And so it is, therefore, with the three books here under review, which I intend to examine with the following leading question in mind: what in each of them is new and what, in what turns out to be new indeed, has been worth learning? (shrink)

Many pioneers of the Scientific Revolution such as Galileo, Kepler, Stevin, Descartes, Mersenne, and others, wrote extensively about musical theory. This was not a chance interest of a few individual scientists. Rather, it reflects a continuing concern of scientists from Pythagorean times onwards to solve certain quantifiable problems in musical theory. One of the issues involved was technically known as ‘the division of the octave’, the problem, that is, of which notes to make music with. Simon Stevin's contribution to this (...) issue, in his treatise Vande Spiegheling der Singconst , is usually conceived of as a remarkably early plea for equal temperament, which is the tuning system we nowadays all take for granted. In this paper I show that, even though it is true that Stevin calculated the figures for what is now known as equal temperament, in fact the subject of temperament has almost nothing to do with his accompanying considerations, and that, therefore, his calculations served another purpose. A careful analysis of the problem situation in the science of music around 1600, reveals that Stevin's treatise highlights a particular stage in the history of what has always been the core issue of the science of music, namely, the problem of consonance. This is the search for an explanation, on scientific principles, of Pythagoras' law: ‘Why is it that those few musical intervals which affect our ear in a sweet and pleasing manner, correspond to the ratios of the first few integers?’ Through an analysis of the source material available we find that Stevin's theory, which makes no sense if interpreted as an early stage in the ‘evolution’ of equal temperament, was meant as a solution—as freshly original as it was wrongheaded—to this perennial problem of consonance, which has continued to baffle some of the best scientific minds from the very beginning of science to the present day. (shrink)