sounds out of silence: A Life of Alexander Graham Bell

James Mackay

Mainstream, #20

MOST patriotic Scots know that Edinburgh-born Alexander Graham Bell invented the telephone. However, few are aware of the full scope of Bell's credentials. Not only was he responsible for developing the vacuum jacket, which would lead to the invention of the iron lung and save countless lives, but he was also a pioneer of aviation and made substantial contributions to teaching the deaf. In addition, he co-founded the world famous National Geographic Society.

This remarkable man, who later became an American citizen, is the subject of a new biography by James Mackay. Mackay, a historian and author of titles such as Michael Collins: A Life and William Wallace: Brave Heart, is not a man to miss an opportunity. Biographies that exploit public interest generated by Hollywood films are something of a speciality for the 1994 Saltire Society book of the year award winner.

His latest offering, Sounds Out Of Silence, A Life of Alexander Graham Bell, has been released to coincide with the 150th anniversary of the birth of Scotland's famous inventor. Perhaps Hollywood will jump on Mackay's bandwagon and do some invention of its own, spicing up the Bell story to create a glamorous tale of love, betrayal, and passionate genius.

In fact, there is huge potential in the story of Bell's life. Bullied by his domineering father, he was forced to relinquish hopes of marriage and make the arduous and courageous journey to the New World, where he often worked to the point of collapse in the race to perfect his telephone before rival inventors.

At the same time, having fallen in love again, Bell fought the objections of his future in-laws, followed the object of his desire across the country, and began a passionate correspondence that eventually led to his marriage, which was later marked by the tragic death of his two infant sons.

Industrial espionage, court cases over patent rights, sneaky dealings, and near misses feature strongly in the history of the telephone. Throw in Bell's sometimes overwrought personality, his humanitarian work for the deaf, and his personal obsessions and you have all the elements of an exciting story. However, Mackay does not seem to feel the same passion for his subject as Bell felt for life.

Sounds Out Of Silence can tell you what happened to Bell. It can even give you a strong impression of what he was like However, it fails to provide that extra edge of feeling for the subject that can make a biography truly great. James Mackay is a historian, and as such probably fears the criticism that historians pour on biographers who dare to suppose. His factual account of Bell's life stands in contrast to other biographical approaches - for example, Peter Ackroyd's controversial biography of Charles Dickens that incorporated lively, fictional conversations between the author and Dickens himself.

Even those involved in the events that shaped Bell's life were occasionally tempted to dramatise happenings. Bell's assistant Tom Watson perpetrated a myth in his autobiography which deviated slightly from the truth. Watson claimed that Bell spilled acid on himself when he shouted: ''Mr Watson! Come here! I want you!'' during the very first telephone conversation.

As MACKay notes: ''The truth, however, recorded by both men at the time, was rather prosaic. No acid was spilled and Alec spoke calmly and deliberately, as his detailed notes indicate.'' Even Bell ''embellished'' the events at the Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia in 1876. Mackay cites ''the letter which he wrote to Brantford on 27 June'' which belies Bell's later account of events.

Admirable as it may be to stick rigidly to fact, a price has to be paid for lack of imagination and involvement. Sounds Out Of Silence fails to inspire any strong rapport with Bell and his family, or even encourage a sense of the overwhelming importance of the telephone. It is a well- researched, judicious, and interesting account of events, but it lacks the emotion of the great inventor himself.