Wonderful information provided in a narrative format that makes it an interesting read. Plenty of helpful resources at the end, including reading group guide, interview list, notes, and index.

In her book The Last Stargazers, Emily Levesque takes readers on a journey through the history of astronomy, from the ancient Greeks to the present day. She tells the stories of the astronomers who have made groundbreaking discoveries about the universe, and she explores the challenges and rewards of a career in astronomy.

Levesque is a gifted writer, and she has a knack for making complex scientific concepts accessible to a general audience. She is also a passionate advocate for astronomy, and she believes that it is essential for us to understand our place in the universe.

The Last Stargazers is an interesting book that will appeal to anyone who is interested in astronomy, science, or the history of ideas. It is a must-read for anyone who wants to learn more about the universe and the people who study it.

Here are some of the things that I liked about the book:

Levesque's writing is clear and engaging. She does a great job of explaining complex scientific concepts in a way that is easy to understand.
Levesque's stories about the astronomers who have made groundbreaking discoveries are fascinating. She brings these people to life and gives us a sense of their personalities and motivations.
Levesque's passion for astronomy is evident throughout the book. She believes that it is essential for us to understand our place in the universe, and she does a great job of communicating this message to her readers. She is particularly informative about visual astronomy as opposed to astronomy outside the visual spectrum

Here are some of the things that I didn't like about the book:

The book could have been longer. I would have liked to learn more about some of the astronomers who were mentioned only briefly.
The book could have been more visually appealing. There are a few black-and-white photos, but I would have liked to see more images of the stars, planets, and galaxies that Levesque discusses.

Overall, I enjoyed The Last Stargazers. It is a well-written and informative book that will appeal to anyone who is interested in astronomy, science, or the history of ideas. I recommend it.

The Last Stargazers is one of many space-related nonfiction published this year. While I realize the writing of these books must have happened long before we knew what a whirlwind of a year we were getting, it does feel destined to be – as looking up at the stars, admiring the universe we are part of in its grandeur but also coming to grips with Earth’s critical state seems more timely than ever before. Emily Levesque takes us through a history of humanity’s fascination with the stars from its origins along the many scientific turning-points of the last hundred or so years of dedicated people making it happen. She touches on many issues of immediate relevance, not least how the field of astronomy is currently undergoing radical changes with new technological innovations that will impact expectations, goals, methods and means of the scientific pursuit. We are introduced to some of the daily challenges of stargazing in the 21st century; from the critters living in close proximity to the telescope stations, to weather making or breaking a long-planned opportunity of data-gathering, the many people involved, the money making it possible, and even the environmental challenges with building science-domes in untouched land.

Levesque opens the book with a conventional memoir. She came to astronomy as many likely do, looking at stars through a makeshift telescope as a young girl in her backyard and felt ‘something’, an uncanny pull to know more – further blooming into a sense of urgency and need to do this work. Through one woman’s journey into science we get a sense of what an astronomer’s day to day is like – working through sleep-deprivation, hoping to the heavens that weather won’t screw up a long scheduled once-in-a-lifetime chance at a legendary telescope with crucial data potential, facing gender discrimination because of historical problems of inclusivity in the STEM areas, and travelling miles and miles to do science because most telescopes are located in remote locations (for many reasons, including the disturbance of traffic) for starters. This is not only a memoir, however, as Levesque has interviewed more than 100 people – colleagues in the field, and thus creates a broader history and contemporary slice of astronomy for the unfamiliar reader to explore. There’s the perhaps ‘uglier’ or at least less flattering side of science, that is politics. It’s a truth that might be hard to reconcile with the dreamers bent on stars but like other professions with high stakes – there’s an imbedded competitiveness to the work as well. Being the first at something is hardly unheard of in astronauts’ work – so it is with astronomers as well; being the first to discover a change, a star, anything of any importance might lead to career opportunities, further funding, even prestige and possibly fame. It’s an important aspect of a work that might come off as entirely noble were it not for this sense of balance in the narrative.

There’s a sense too of what has come before, in the field, to lead into the era we see now – with robot telescopes and computers slowly taking over more of the mundane workload; with new ways of collecting data opening up exciting possibilities but equally the possibility of losing some of the innovation and creativity that is part of a work done by human hands and minds. In a sense therefor, this is a love-letter to human observation of stars – of how astronomy has historically been done and a kind of tribute to history, for getting humanity in our understanding of our planet and its place in the universe, this far. It’s a kind of paradigm shifting ground like the title suggests, making it equal parts exciting and nerve-wracking for what we can expect to see from this field ahead.

You know those memes: what people think I do, what I really do ? This book is the meme.

Emily Levesque is an astronomy professor studying how biggest stars evolve and die. She have a lot of experience in the field of astronomy, lot of stories to tell and fortunately use brilliant language to tell them.

I smirked a lot, googled a lot, daydreamed about universe a lot. Astronomy is a wonderful life choice but don't
idealize it. It may sound romantic but observing is (used to be) adventurous job (speaking of tarantulas, lightning bolts, awful hurricanes, dangerous bridges - you name it). Studying hundreds of pages of signals & codes isn't fun neither. But still, to be at the top of the mountain in the observatory, looking at the sky with million of stars, can't say I wouldn't do it. It was quite an easy fun read even if you don't know anything about astronomy.

I can say without any regret that this was one of the best books I read this year. This version was only e-book but I definitely wants to buy a hardcover. And if Emily wants to write something else in the future, just check me in.

Levesque weaves together her personal experiences, anecdotes shared by colleagues, and details from the history of astronomy to capture a view of the field as a whole and where it is headed. From her own early excitement at viewing Halley's Comet with her family in the backyard to riding on the Stratospheric Observatory at 45,000 feet, she makes the life of a modern astronomer come to life.

I especially enjoyed how she toggles back and forth between her observation runs at various telescopes around the world, descriptions of her educational path to her current position, and a look at the development of astronomy throughout history. Just the advances from bare eyeball observations of the stars to the ability of interferometers to measure gravitational waves is astounding. And traveling thousands of miles to use telescopes on remote mountaintops in Chile or Hawaii certainly seems to explode the image of figures hunched over telescopes in the dark, never wandering far from home.

For those with an interest in the field of astronomy, this book offers details about how research into black holes, supernovae, and other stellar objects is carried out. There are technical details about the advance from small handheld telescopes to the construction of large radio astronomy facilities or the Hubble Space Telescope. And the hilarious stories of scientists startled by a raccoon landing on their lap looking for a snack or skunks wandering into observatories through an open door put a more human face on the daily lives of these researchers.

Highly recommended for anyone curious about STEM careers or outer space.

In the very beginning of The Last Stargazers: The Enduring Story of Astronomy’s Vanishing Explorers, Emily Levesque notes that “of the 7.5 billion people on our planet, fewer than fifty thousand are professional astronomers.” As the title implies, and as Levesque explains toward the end of her book, the number is perhaps more likely to shrink rather than rise. Luckily for us, Levesque is one of that select group, and so is able to fill the pages in between beginning and end, with a number of entertaining stories about her own experiences, as well as those of her colleagues, along with giving readers tours of some of the best known and most effective telescopes used by today’s (and yesterday’s) astronomers.

I’ll be honest. Early on, while I was enjoying The Last Stargazers enough, it felt a little flat and light on the science. It opened up engagingly and wittily enough, with Levesque fearing she would be known as the “grad student who killed Subaru,” a massive scope boasting the world’s largest single pane of glass and which costs 47, 000 dollars a night to operate. That sort of self-deprecating wit runs throughout the book, adding some welcome levity and creating a personal, conversational tone throughout. Levesque’s prose also remains consistently straightforward, smooth, and clear, all a must for popular science writers. While I wouldn’t have minded a bit more lyricism (she does a nice job when she aims for it) and maybe more frequent dips into the metaphor pool, her prose style is more than up to the task. That aforementioned tone though, at least for about the first third or so, was for me perhaps a little too conversational, more like chat around a table rather than worthy on their own of a book. They weren’t on their own, of course, but the balance between the science and the lighter stories of male astronomers peeing into bottles or tarantulas on doorknobs was just a little off.

But Levesque found that balance after a while, bringing in more detailed science (including her own research on red giants) as she moves back and forth in time from her early undergraduate and graduate days as a student and current time. She ranges across geography as well as time, detailing her time on various telescopes in Hawaii (Mauna Kea), Chile (Campanas Observatory), Arizona (Kitt Peak), New Mexico (The Very Large Array) and even up in the atmosphere aboard a flying observatory (unfortunately, she notes, her time “on” the Hubble Space Telescope didn’t mean putting on a space suit and rocketing into outer space). Levesque’s growth in years is paralleled with chapters on advances in astronomical observation, from optical telescope of ever-increasing mirror size to radio telescopes to the very recent use of gravitational waves as yet another way of peering into the universe. The book get meatier with the scientific detail but also in the way it casts a sharp observation eye (would one expect any less?) on the intersection of society and astronomy via the rampant sexism of early years, the low numbers of non-white astronomers, and the issue of lands sacred to its original inhabitants being coopted for scientific research with little involvement of the original people’s descendants.

With the advances in astronomical observation though, comes a concomitant loss of the personal, human touch. Whether it’s the disappearance of eye pieces (no more bending over a scope, the camera does the observing) to remote viewing (using your laptop to “observe” via a telescope thousands of miles away) to the newest advances in robotic telescopes, where humans are taken out of the observing (but not the analyzing) loop altogether. Each new advance allows for sharper insights into the universe, but as Levesque notes, “we’re also losing the experiences . . . the hands-on era of observing — this funny little slice of the human endeavor of science — represents a type of scientific adventure that is starting to dwindle.” As bittersweet as that sounds, Levesque is clear-eyed about the benefits outweighing the cost; The Last Stargazers, as she says, is “not meant to be a paean for the ‘good old days,’” and she “looks forward to reading the successor to this book, written thirty years in the future . . . sharing wild tales about the challenges of wrangling unfathomable quantities of data,” as opposed to stories of falling off observing platforms or of swarms of ladybugs obscuring a lens. I wouldn’t mind if Levesque herself gave us that book.

This was a fascinating read - even if you are not a science buff. I know I'm not that into science, but something about this book caught my eye! The author explores the history of astrologers and the current field of astrology. The importance of knowing what is in the universe has captured us for centuries and this book makes the reader understand why.

THE LAST STARGAZERS

If you’ve ever wondered what being a professional astronomer is like, then boy does Emily Levesque have the book for you.

Her book The Last Stargazers: The Enduring Story of Astronomy’s Vanishing Explorers takes readers on a whirlwind tour of the field, allowing them to appreciate what goes on along astronomy’s frontlines. Or observatories. Or Cassegrain cages. Or large radio telescope arrays.

You get the idea.

Unlike most popular science books written to explain complex scientific concepts to the Everyman, The Last Stargazers instead focuses less on astronomy than on astronomers. This is not to say that Levesque shies away from the science; far from it, and in fact a discussion of phenomena under study frequently comes up organically in the book’s narrative. Yet Levesque frames her discussion in terms of the astronomers who strive to make sense of the cosmos as well as the many fascinating discoveries, missteps, and hijinks that they encounter along the way—herself included.

Thus, The Last Stargazers provides a vehicle for Levesque to wax nostalgic about what astronomers do: the sleepless nights at the mercy of the elements operating sensitive equipment to observe phenomena light years away. However, this is anything but a rose-tinted view of the profession, as Levesque gamely confronts many of astronomy’s challenges, whether the field’s inherent sexism (that is to say, like many sciences it is male-dominated), or the polarizing issue of constructing large observatories in otherwise pristine environments, or even the way that technology is forcing the practice of astronomy itself to evolve. It’s a thoughtful assessment of astronomy on the whole that does a wonderful job of humanizing what many would consider an esoteric and inaccessible profession.

Levesque writes with an unmistakeable passion that is positively infectious in The Last Stargazers. After reading this book, looking up at the stars surely will never be the same again.

"Ah, why didn't I become an astronomer too?" That was my reaction as I read the first few chapters of “The Last Stargazers” by Emily Levesque. When she was not even two years old, with Halley's comet shining in the sky, little Emily fell in love with the stars and the universe. In this book she talks with passion, affection and humor about her life and that of other astronomers. She talks about amazing discoveries, traditions, exhilarating facts, difficulties, even tragedies. She talks about telescopes and the people who live around them. She talks about old and new observation practices, accidents of various kinds, the evolution of observing and working with data... She talks about the beauty of the universe and the human struggles to understand it a little more.
This is a clear book, within everyone's reach, that will make you look in a different way at the sky and the stars. At the sun and our planet. You will feel more alive, with a bigger breath.

Emily Levesque observes the constellation of astronomers with the same curiosity and sense of wonder with which they observe the skies. She invites us into their world, including the rare and precious nights spent atop mountains in telescopes, and the stories they share when they gather. She debunks the ideas that astronomers spend all their time gazing at stars or have memorized the local star charts.

The “last” in the title is a hint to how technology is transforming the profession as we peer ever deeper into the unknown margins of the universe. If you’ve ever been curious about astronomy, you’ll find this book delightful.

I am honestly surprise by how easy and fun was to read this book. I am not a scientist (and English is not my mother tongue) so I always start this books with a little bit of fear. The Last Stargazers is compelling, entertaining and page-turner. I would recommend this to any interested in the sky, the universe and modern astronomy. How do we look at stars.

The Last Stargazers is so cool that it makes astronomers look like geeky rock stars. I’ve read a lot of books about Astronomy and found them mostly boring. They tend to be dry and too technical, but I keep reading them because I love space. Levesque makes the science approachable and fun. Reading her book is like hanging out with a good and very smart friend who teaches you amazing things. She’s an MIT graduate who discovered a special kind of star (she talks about it here) but, with disarming self-deprecating humor, she talks about astronomers’ day-to-day life. Yes, they may get to see supernovae explode, but they also need to eat, sleep and use the toilet. Next time you get upset because it rains during your trip to the beach, at least be grateful that you’re not an astronomer waiting for her turn at a telescope. The evolution of astronomy is also a big part of the content. She doesn’t talk about Hubble or the grandparents of the science, most of the people she mentions are still alive and working, including some of the first women in the field, who had to face unspeakable challenges and whom the author has worked with. There are fun anecdotes about Earth and space making the most fascinating science understandable to dummies. Five Red Supergiants for this book!
I chose to read this book and all opinions in this review are my own and completely unbiased. Thank you, NetGalley/ Sourcebooks!

Thank you to NetGalley for an early copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

If you're looking for the origin stories of astronomers, this isn't it. This is an in-depth tale about astronomy, past, present, and the very distant future. We learn about different observatories, different events that happened in the astronomy community, and how it affected discovery.

The author wrote the book for a popular audience and it doesn't get too technical so you can't follow along. You have to have some interest in astronomy to even be reading a book on astronomy in the first place.

Passion for the subject is evident and that's what makes this book fun to read. It does start slow and I was distracted by trying to figure out the structure of the book.

" We don't know exactly why, but we must."

The sheer beauty and mystery of space is fascinating to me so I requested for this. The author is an astronomer and definitely knows what she's talking about, but more than the science of it all, I liked reading the human stories behind a telescope. I'm in awe of her experiences and her ability to present complex processes in a relatively digestible approach, although I have to say that the book can be a bit too long and detailed.