The Smallest Lights in the Universe
Page 28
Of course. Of course.
Sometimes we think we know what we’re going to find, and where we’re going to find it, and we don’t. Sometimes, as with ASTERIA and another Earth, we know what we want to find, and we think we have the right way to find it, but we still don’t know that we will. Sometimes, as with Charles and me, we find what we’re looking for most in the world, and we might never understand how or why we did.
And sometimes, if we’re really lucky, maybe only once or twice in our lifetimes, we find something we didn’t even know we needed.
I’ve started to wonder whether that’s the best kind of science: the revelation that’s equal parts unexpected and essential, the accidental necessity. Isn’t that the most thrilling form of exploration? It’s more satisfying than a question without an answer. And it’s more profound than an answer without consequence. There is no greater breakthrough than the answer to a question that we never thought to ask.
Is there other life in the universe? That’s the question that I’ve always thought I needed to answer. Maybe I’ve been wrong all this time. Maybe trying to see the smallest lights in the universe isn’t about who, exactly, we’ll encounter there. Maybe it doesn’t matter what aliens really look like, what form their version of life takes. Maybe our search shouldn’t be about them. Maybe it never was.
Do I believe in other life in the universe?
Yes, I believe.
The better question: What does our search for it say about us? It says we’re curious. It says we’re hopeful. It says we’re capable of wonder and of wonderful things.
I don’t think it’s an accident that there’s a mirror at the heart of every large telescope. If we want to find another Earth, that means we want to find another us. We think we’re worth knowing. We want to be a light in somebody else’s sky. And so long as we keep looking for each other, we will never be alone.
FOR CHARLES
Acknowledgments
The story of my life first became public when Chris Jones wrote about me with consideration and heart in The New York Times Magazine. I’d like to thank Chris for his help with this book.
Chris and I were connected, in ways that are too cosmic even for me to explain, by Matt Reeves, Rafi Crohn, and Adam Kassan at 6th & Idaho. Mollie Glick at CAA also gave me crucial assistance in navigating this new universe. I am indebted to them for their kind interventions.
At Crown, my appreciation to Rachel Klayman for seeing the potential in the smallest of lights; Gillian Blake, Meghan Houser, and Lawrence Krauser for their direction and fine-eyed edits; Mark Birkey for his careful production-editing work; Elena Giavaldi for her beautiful cover design; and Gwyneth Stansfield and Rachel Aldrich for their help in spreading the word.
Because Beth and Will appear too briefly in the book given their importance in my life, I want to give them my deepest thanks here for their love and generosity. Their Christmas tree farm was a safe place for my family when we needed it most.
I have been blessed with other havens. I am beyond grateful to my colleagues, postdocs, and students at MIT, without whom I might not have come close to healing during the difficult time spanned by this book, as well as my father figures and friends from among our generous and supportive alumni. My endless admiration, too, for the scientists and engineers at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory and Northrop Grumman Corporation, and elsewhere across the country, who are dedicated to the Starshade and other space-based direct imagining missions. One day we will find what we most want to see.
I must also thank, very much, the Widows of Concord for your unique understanding, unwavering support, and impeccable fashion advice. You helped me when I needed more help than I ever feared I might, and I will never take your friendship for granted.
To Jessica, Veronica, Diana, and Christine: You will always be family.
My love and gratitude to my wonderful boys, Max and Alex, for your patience and the joy you bring to my life. I am so proud of who you are.
And to you, Charles Darrow: Thank you for introducing yourself to me at that salad bar in Thunder Bay, and thank you for rescuing me every day since. I will love you forever.
Discussion Questions
The Smallest Lights in the Universe
Sara Seager
1. The author opens the book by describing rogue planets; she uses them as a metaphor for her children, who she says have gone “halfway to rogue” following the death of their father. What else in her life appears “rogue”? Who or what in your life could be described as a “rogue planet,” with no star to orbit?
2. Throughout the book, the author talks about the power of belief and of positive thought. Do you feel that belief is a type of magic? Why or why not?
3. The author is an extremely successful woman in a field dominated by men. Was there a point in the book when you thought this circumstance was especially affecting her? Do you think the fact that she’s a woman has had an impact on her career trajectory, for better or for worse? Why?
4. Is there anything in your life that you’ve pursued with blind faith despite opposition, in the way that the author is driven to find exoplanets in the face of backlash from her scientific community? What kept the author moving toward her goal? What keeps you moving toward your goal?
5. Later in her life, the author discovers something about herself that she had never considered before—she realized it only after she was featured in a major publication and a friend pointed out certain aspects of her personality that came through on the page. How might you have reacted to a surprise like this? Have you ever realized something about yourself only after seeing yourself from another person’s perspective?
6. The author relied on a dark sense of humor to cope when her husband was first diagnosed and throughout his illness. What do you make of this? Why is this her instinct? Does this form of humor appeal to you, or not?
7. When her husband passed away at home, unhindered by tubes and machines, the author says she felt she was able to help “build something beautiful.” Do you agree that death can be beautiful? Why or why not?
8. What do you make of the use of metaphors throughout the book such as dark and light or the sun and stars? Was there a particular metaphor that was the most powerful to you?
9. The Widows of Concord become a supportive community for the author after her loss. Why do you think the author initially resisted their friendship? What did she ultimately gain from those relationships?
10. In her recurring dreams of her husband following his death, the author sees him return to her after long absences: he has been in a coma, missing, on long trips, and so on. What do you think is the meaning of this recurring dream?
11. Do you feel that the scene with the Green Flash is a moment of rebirth or closure for the author? Is it—or can it be—both?
12. The author has focused her life’s work on detecting life on other planets, only to find herself searching for new life after death. How are these pursuits related? How are they dissimilar?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
SARA SEAGER is an astrophysicist and a professor of physics and planetary science at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Her research, which earned her a MacArthur Foundation “genius” grant in 2013, has introduced many foundational ideas to the field of exoplanets, and she led NASA’s Probe-class study team for the Starshade project. She is now at the forefront of the search for the first Earth-like exoplanets and signs of life on them. She lives with her family in Concord, Massachusetts.
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