What a fantastic gift Bill Bryson has given us with A Short History of Nearly Everything. It is, quite simply, one of the best books I’ve ever read.

Bryson has pulled off a number of amazing feats with this book. For one, he’s taken a wide number of intimidating subjects–the origins of our universe, the rise of life, geology, biology, particle physics, and a bunch of other stuff you didn’t pay full attention to in high school–and made them accessible, understandable, and really, really interesting. Better yet, his work is detailed enough that even those who are occassionally prone to geeking out over long, staid pieces of scientific writing (a group I would incidentally consider myself a member) can find plenty to sink their teeth into.

But the tasty frosting–and, really, the thing that so sets the book apart from others like it–are Bryson’s wonderful descriptions of how we came to know everything we do. The book is awash in stories about brilliant minds stymied in their efforts to get their ideas and findings published, only to be forced to retreat into obscurity and then later suffer the added indignity of watching others get all the credit. Bryson lays out plenty of stories where people were given due credit, of course, but from looking at how petty and backstabbing the greater scientific community has been from time to time, it’s kind of amazing that we actually know anything at all.

In a way, that’s kind of in line with the greatest theme of A Short History: We are remarkably lucky to be here. To paraphrase Bryson, when we look at our history, we’re looking at a knife edge. Every single one of us is the product of an unbelievably long chain of ridiculously improbable events. But here we are, and we get to use our oversized brains to enjoy things like Bryson’s book.

Yay for us. Highly recommended.