Jo Marchant – författare

In 1900 a group of sponge divers blown off course in the Mediterranean discovered an Ancient Greek shipwreck near the island of Antikythera dating from around 70 BC.Lying unnoticed for months amongst their hard-won haul was what appeared to be a formless lump of corroded rock, which turned out to be the most stunning scientific artefact we have from antiquity. For more than a century this 'Antikythera mechanism' - an ancient computer - puzzled academics, but now, more than 2000 years after the device was lost at sea, scientists have pieced together its intricate workings.In Decoding the Heavens, Jo Marchant tells for the first time the story of the 100-year quest to understand the Antikythera mechanism. Along the way she unearths a diverse cast of remarkable characters - ranging from Archimedes to Jacques Cousteau - and explores the deep roots of modern technology not only in Ancient Greece, the Islamic world and medieval Europe.

In Decoding the Heavens , Jo Marchant tells for the first time the full story of the hundred-year quest to decipher the ancient Greek computer known as the Antikythera Mechanism. Along the way she unearths a diverse cast of remarkable characters and explores the deep roots of modern technology in ancient Greece and the medieval European and Islamic worlds. At its heart, this is an epic adventure and mystery, a book that challenges our assumptions about technology through the ages.

THE NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLERSHORTLISTED FOR THE ROYAL SOCIETY SCIENCE BOOK PRIZELONGLISTED FOR THE WELLCOME PRIZEALL IN THE MIND?- Can meditation fend off dementia?- Can the smell of lavender affect the immune system?- Can your thoughts ease physical pain?In Cure, award-winning science writer Jo Marchant travels the world to meet the physicians, patients and researchers on the cutting edge of mind-body medicine, asking how the brain can heal the body and how we can all make changes to keep ourselves healthier.

For most of human history, we have had a close relationship with the stars. Once they shaped our religious beliefs, power structures, scientific advances and even our biology. But over the last few centuries we have separated ourselves from the universe that surrounds us. And it comes at a cost.The Human Cosmos is a tour of this history: from the Hall of the Bulls in Lascaux to Tahitian sailors navigating by the stars; from medieval monks grappling with the nature of time to Einstein realising that space and time are the same. It shows we need to rediscover the universe we inhabit, its effect on our health, and its potential for inspiration and revelation.

A NEW SCIENTIST PICK FOR 2026'Won't just shift your perspective but rather catapult it into another dimension' GAIA VINCEWhat if the present moment - the 'now' we all inhabit - isn't just a tick of the clock?We feel that the present is everything; all we can know. Yet physics finds no universal 'now'. To explore what a moment really is, In Search of Now draws on state-of-the-art discoveries in neuroscience, psychology, cosmology and quantum physics, revealing a dynamic, creative process in which we all play a part.Jo Marchant shows how we each carve out our lived experience - sensations and emotions, actions and decisions - through our interactions with the world. Far from being an illusion or a mere slice of time, she argues that this evolving, interconnected tapestry is the source of our lives and selves, and perhaps even reality itself.Join Jo to explore the secrets of how our lives really unfold - and rediscover the creative power of 'now'.'Illuminating . . . will change the way you think' CLAUDIA HAMMOND'Fascinating' Mail on Sunday

16 revealing stories about the human brain.Ever wondered how Scandinavians cope with 24-hour darkness, why we feel pain - or whether smartphones really make children stupid?Have you heard about the US army's research into supercharging minds?You need some Brainology. Written for Wellcome, the health charity, these stories follow doctors as they solve the puzzle of our emotions, nerves and behaviour.Discover fascinating and intriguing stories from the world of science.ContentsOuch! The science of pain - John WalshWhy doctors are reclaiming LSD and ecstasy - Sam WongInside the mind of an interpreter - Geoff WattsHow should we deal with dark winters? - Linda GeddesSmartphones won’t* make your kids dumb (*Probably) - Olivia SolonYou can train your mind into ‘receiving’ medicine - Jo MarchantCharting the phenomenon of deep grief - Andrea VolpeThe mirror cure for phantom limb pain - Srinath PerurCan you think yourself into a different person? - Will StorrHow to survive a troubled childhood - Lucy MaddoxWhat tail-chasing dogs reveal about humans - Shayla LoveA central nervous solution to arthritis - Gaia VinceCould virtual reality headsets relieve pain? - Jo MarchantWhat it means to be homesick in the 21st Century - John Osborne Lighting up brain tumours with Project Violet - Alex O'BrienThe US military plan to supercharge brains - Emma YoungEXTRACTOuch! The science of pain.John WalshOne night in May, my wife sat up in bed and said, ‘I’ve got this awful pain just here.’ She prodded her abdomen and made a face. ‘It feels like something’s really wrong.’ Woozily noting that it was 2am, I asked what kind of pain it was. ‘Like something’s biting into me and won’t stop,’ she said.‘Hold on,’ I said blearily, ‘help is at hand.’ I brought her a couple of ibuprofen with some water, which she downed, clutching my hand and waiting for the ache to subside.An hour later, she was sitting up in bed again, in real distress. ‘It’s worse now,’ she said, ‘really nasty. Can you phone thedoctor?’ Miraculously, the family doctor answered the phone at 3am, listened to her recital of symptoms and concluded, ‘It might be your appendix. Have you had yours taken out?’ No, she hadn’t. ‘It could be appendicitis,’ he surmised, ‘but if it was dangerous you’d be in much worse pain than you’re in. Go to the hospital in the morning, but for now, take some paracetamol and try to sleep.’Barely half an hour later, the balloon went up. She was awakened for the third time, but now with a pain so savage and uncontainable it made her howl like a tortured witch face down on a bonfire. The time for murmured assurances and spousal procrastination was over. I rang a local minicab, struggled into my clothes, bundled her into a dressing gown, and we sped to St Mary’s Paddington at just before 4am.The flurry of action made the pain subside, if only through distraction, and we sat for hours while doctors brought forms to be filled, took her blood pressure and ran tests. A registrar poked a needle into my wife’s wrist and said, ‘Does that hurt? Does that? How about that?’ before concluding: ‘Impressive. You have a very high pain threshold.’The pain was from pancreatitis, brought on by rogue gallstones that had escaped from her gall bladder and made their way, like fleeing convicts, to a refuge in her pancreas, causing agony. She was given a course of antibiotics and, a month later, had an operation to remove her gall bladder.‘It’s keyhole surgery,’ said the surgeon breezily, ‘so you’ll be back to normal very soon. Some people feel well enough to take the bus home after the operation.’ His optimism was misplaced. My lovely wife, she of the admirably high pain threshold, had to stay overnight, and came home the following day filled with painkillers; when they wore off, she writhed with suffering. After three days she rang the specialist, only to be told:'