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The Vortex of Life: Nature’s Patterns in Space and Time by Lawrence
Edwards, Floris Books, pp 352, £19.95

This book has nothing to do with Christopher Hodder-Williams’s classic
The Egg-Shaped Thing, although there is a certain resemblance between the
leading characters. Lawrence Edwards has written about the geometry of birds’
eggs, pine cones, buds, heart ventricles and even embryos. His book is
an interesting mix of mathematics and natural history, but all overlaid
by an unconventional philosophy.

Edwards begins with some mathematical origami showing how geometrical
transformations can generate forms with an uncanny similarity to eggs,
pine cones and so on. (The book’s title comes from a vortex involved in
a particularly tortuous procedure.) Just as you are asking ‘so what?’, Edwards
shows that the geometrical forms can fit the natural shapes almost exactly.
If this is just a coincidence, it is a useful one. Edwards employs his mathematics
to analyse shape changes that range from the form of the left ventricle
during a heart beat, to the opening of flower buds. Unfortunately, however,
he gives his work such offbeat interpretations that it is often tempting
to write comments in the margins.

For example, Edwards shows that dormant buds are not as quiescent as
they appear. Measuring them daily, he found that buds pass through a roughly
fortnightly cycle of shape changes. During the cycle, buds relax their form
slightly, as if beginning to open, and then close up again. The pattern
is widespread, appearing anywhere from the leaf buds on beech trees to the
flower buds on primroses, and the cycle is roughly synchronised between
buds on the same plant. Edwards may have discovered the slow ticking of
an internal clock, or possibly there is a hidden 14-day cycle in the plants’
environment. He does not consider either, but links the shape changes to
astrology. The shape of oak buds, for example, correlates with the positions
of the Moon and Mars. Interestingly, high-voltage cables appear to disrupt
the changes in a bud’s shape. Perhaps, Edwards suggests, ‘an artificial
electric field could act as a screen which isolates the plants from their
cosmic connections’.

Can you cope with that sort of conversation-stopper? If so, the book
makes intriguing reading. The geometrical forms that Edwards generates do
not fit just anything roughly egg or cone-shaped. A narrowing at one end
of the ‘egg’, for example, must be matched by the correct widening at the
other end. So the fact that the geometry often describes natural shapes
almost exactly implies that Edwards’ mathematics may shed light on the development
of shape in plants and animals. Unfortunately, you cannot tell if the mathematics
and the biology are linked by reading the book because Edwards writes using
mainly metaphysical rather than biological terms. At one point he proposes
that a ‘field of form’ influences both the natural and the geometrical shapes:
‘When one compares these two things, the plant reality, and the mathematical
drawing, they are found to be identical in form, because this is the thing
which gave birth to them both,’ he writes.

Edwards acknowledges that his arguments owe much to the Austrian philosopher
and scientist Rudolf Steiner. Steiner founded the doctrine of anthroposophy
which aims to restore a person’s capacity for spiritual perception, and
he also devised teaching methods based on art and drama. People familiar
with Steiner’s work may find Edwards’ writing easier to follow. However,
even if you disagree with Edwards’ philosophy, his book may make you look
twice at an egg before you crack it.

Stephen Day is a science writer and biologist.