Black Body Radiation and the Ultraviolet Catastrophe is not your typical book. Hell, the narrator is a character! He is an insecure, irate, know-it-all who occasionally will even turn to the reader for help. At one point, after speaking to the reader, he seeks her help. Here, the reader participates as no other in the annals of fiction. However, this know-it-all is mostly in the driver’s seat, sometime annoying the reader to distraction: “The only setback that kept me from giving this book a five star rating was the presence of the omnipresent narrator. Usually, narrators serve one purpose and that is to provide basic background information on the story and characters in a subtle and yet brisk manner. Instead, here we have a narrator who seems to have an ego of his own. His random musings in between certain parts of the story really bugged me” (Asellus Nitaya, Amazon reader). Yet the narrator is not merely here to annoy: “I was struck by the audacity of the narrator's mannerisms and yet it never occurred to me that what he said about humans and their misgivings could be true. The things he said made me think and question my reason for living in this world. Although I was initially put off by his rude demeanor, I had a more rich and rewarding experience reading the book, because he was in it” (Nitaya).
Another distinguishing feature of this novel is that the writer barely cares about telling a story. To a great degree, he uses narration to move the reader from one philosophical, cosmological, ontological point to another (ala Ayn Rand in Atlas Shrugged solely expressing her economic philosophy). As one reader states, “If you are someone too busy conforming with society's pop culture of bros and bros’ hoes, then this book is certainly not for you. However, if you are someone in need of a road map to internal serenity then I suggest you buy this book immediately!” (Matt Zusman—Amazon reader).
"Internal serenity"? But I thought this book was all action, ideas, and annoying characters--well, at least one. Ah, but there is much more here than that. Much more.
The novel often deals with heavy-handed issues, life and death, purpose, eternity, using over-the-top humor (ala Douglas Adams’ Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy) to soften the blow and searing satire (ala Jonathan Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels) to stir up the fires.
If you enjoy pondering the meaning of everything (and yes, the book takes on the greater significance of the answer 42 given in Hitchhiker’s Guide) mixed with humor, unimaginable twists and turns, great gallops across time and space . . . well, then, this book is for you.