How William Herschel inspired John Pipkin to write The Blind Astronomer’s Daughter

John Pipkin tells us about his new novel, which is based on the life of astronomer William Herschel.

Writer John Pipkin said he wanted to look at characters who don’t give up. Andrew Damon

Next time you gaze upwards and marvel at the spectacular cosmic light show, your mind might not wander – as author John Pipkin’s often does – towards an 18th-century musician and composer.

However, when William Herschel set about making a powerful telescope for himself, he started a journey into astronomy that began as small as a twinkling spot of starlight in the sky, but ended with his discovery of the planet Uranus, a new understanding of the Milky Way and the concept of infinite, deep space.

“Herschel is an intriguing figure,” says Pipkin. “For me, he represents a time before the arts and sciences were divided, an amateur who wanted to create a map which could show us our place in the universe.”

Hershel is also the inspiration for Pipkin's second novel, The Blind Astronomer's Daughter, a historical epic that interweaves parts of Hershel's true story into a tale of an obsessed Irish stargazer, Arthur Ainsworth, his adopted child, Caroline, and an accompanying cast of late-18th-century characters, all with their own motivations for exploring the unknown, both in space and on Earth.

Set against a backdrop of not only great scientific and cultural achievements that set the foundations for our modern world, but also the upheaval of rebellion, revolution and political instability, The Blind Astronomer's Daughter is a huge undertaking, as ambitious and multifaceted as Hershel himself. Pipkin, though, felt fiction was the best vehicle with which to explore this turbulent, but exciting, time.

“I wanted to examine the personal lives of the people involved – whether they might be historical or fictional figures, everyone is trying to get a sense of their own place in the universe and history in this book,” he says.

“The strength of fiction is that it gives us access to the areas where the historical record might be murky. It allows us the ability to project ourselves into the heads of people involved.

“This isn’t a book that is supposed to encourage people to understand astronomy, it’s about the role people played in its development on a personal level.”

Indeed, the clue that this is a fully functioning novel rather than a historical record is in the title. It is the blind astronomer’s daughter, Caroline Ainsworth, who is at the emotional core of the book. An orphan expelled from home, she has tricky relationships with her father, the blacksmith’s son with whom she falls in love, astronomy and even Ireland itself – she is the novel’s beating heart.

“She represents the fine line between ambition and obsession,” says Pipkin. “We usually think of successful people in history being dedicated, driven people who find their ‘Eureka!’ moment and reach their life’s goal.

“Actually, life isn’t like that: discovery is usually much more quiet, personal – even unsure.

“And I wanted to look at characters who don’t give up, who meet with failure and disappointment and have to work out whether to continue with something that might appear pointless in the hope that it might end somewhere interesting.”

In fact, for all that The Blind Astronomer's Daughter is very much a historical novel, it feels contemporary. The present-tense narrative certainly helps, but the human impulses, as Caroline talks about the desire to "know something more, something new and wondrous and seemingly impossible", feel incredibly relevant.

“That’s probably because the reasons why we study the heavens haven’t changed,” says Pipkin. “There’s always something new to be discovered and waiting to be found. Exploring the universe through astronomy isn’t just about looking for scientific data, it’s about existentially defining what our role and place is here on Earth, both as individuals and human beings.

“We haven’t really invented new human emotions, they’re just expressed differently depending on who you are and where you live. Fear has always been fear, love has always been love.”

For Pipkin, that idea underpins a hopeful message to his novel, despite the turmoil of fiery rebellion that rages through the second half of the book. He says that if there is a deeper philosophical message in the novel, it is that we are improving as human beings moving through history. It just might not seem like it right now, that’s all.

“I do have to believe that, on a larger scale, we are bending towards a better way of being through science, discovery and the way we explore our nature through art and philosophy,” he says. “As we understand the interconnectedness of everything, between human beings and the natural and cosmic world, there are causes for great hope and advancement.”

Even at the end of a turbulent year many people will be pleased to see the back of?

“Well, at any given period of time, there have been terribly ugly things taking place,” says Pipkin.

“Radical change appears to happen in a historical context, but things also tend to remain the same. So for me, we are people capable of horrible deeds and magnificent discoveries.”

• The Blind Astronomer’s Daughter will be published by Bloomsbury next week