The Riddle of the Tongue-Stones: How Blessed Nicolas Steno Uncovered the Hidden History of the Earth

“In the year 1666, in the beautiful city of Florence, Italy, the court of Grand Duke Ferdinando II saw the arrival of a most unusual object–the partial remains of a great white shark!”

That’s a pretty cool opener for a middle reader biography, and Thomas Salerno’s The Riddle of the Tongue-Stones: How Blessed Nicholas Steno Uncovered the Hidden History of the Earth had me from page one as well. Salerno has the storyteller’s gift and his tale will delight anyone who loves science, especially when it touches on the treasures hidden in the multi-layered earth.

This little book is a tactile delight as well as a visual one. The cover resembles a weathered field notebook and its texture invites fingering. The illustrations–masterful pencil sketches by artist Dillon Wheelock–beckon the reader to step into the world of scientific instruments and artifacts. We almost get a whiff of a musty old laboratory as we enter the world of the Reformation-era scientist who, at the end of his life, became a Catholic priest.

So what’s the connection with that great white shark?

Steno, a Danish anatomist, was already renowned for discovering the duct for the parotid gland (the source of saliva) while dissecting a sheep’s head before he joined an association of scientists in Florence and was selected for the honor of dissecting the enormous head of the great white.

A lifetime of insatiable curiosity and multi-faceted interests made possible a connection that would, for many, mark this moment in history as the birth of paleontology.

As Steno scrutinized the great white’s teeth, he noticed a strong resemblance between their blade-like points and “tongue-stones”–triangular rocks that were thought to have medicinal and even magical properties. The tongue-stones’ origin had puzzled ancient thinkers who uncovered stones resembling seashells and shark’s teeth far from the ocean, even high in the mountains.

Perhaps fossils, Steno theorized, were “the bones, shells or teeth of living organisms that had mysteriously turned to stone.”

Few theories of natural history existed at this time, and Steno, gifted with a boundless curiosity, poured all his energy into solving the riddle:

He made extended trips across Tuscany, down to the seashore and up into the mountains, hunting relentlessly for fossils…His keen anatomist’s eye saw how the rock formations and the features of the landscape all fit together in a logical sequence–a narrative sequence. He saw order: the kind of order that exists in a well-told story!

Using principles derived from geometry, Steno worked out the narrative, proposing four principles that explain how various rock strata were formed. They are still known by geologists as Steno’s Principles. Callout boxes in the style of old scientific labels supply jargon-free definitions throughout this imaginative book, and the list of Steno’s Principles with an accompanying rock strata diagram on the opposite page is especially helpful.

But the definitions in this book aren’t limited to the scientific because Steno’s mind was not occupied solely with natural wonders. He was also on a quest for spiritual truth, and The Riddle of the Tongue-Stones tells that story as well.

Lutheranism was Denmark’s state religion. Steno attended a Lutheran school as a boy and he had a devoted heart as well as a curious mind. As a young man, Steno spent a brief time in Amsterdam, where Calvinists, Lutherans, Catholics and Muslims all rubbed shoulders.

The exposure piqued his intellectual and spiritual curiosity.

In Tuscany, Steno was able to discuss his theological questions with Catholic priests. He was particularly interested in the Catholic teaching that the Eucharist is the Real Presence of Jesus Christ, Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity.

Drawn more and more to Catholicism through his “exhaustive investigation,” Steno had a heartfelt experience that spurred him to seek reception into the Catholic Church. The story that follows shows the depth of Steno’s devotion. He became a priest and eventually was ordained a bishop, not without struggles and opposition, which Salerno also describes.

Even when occupied with the duties of a bishop, Steno continued his scientific investigations. In a touching nod to Pope John Paul II’s encyclical Fides et Ratio (Faith and Reason), Salerno writes:

The idea of a deep harmony between the Christian religion and science might seem strange to some people today, but Steno and his colleagues had no trouble understanding that faith and reason are like the two wings that a bird needs in order to fly–they are not opposed to each other, but work together in tandem.

Salerno’s own delight in both faith and science is palpable. In his interview with Votive editor Haley Stewart he shares that as a child, he loved James Gurney’s Dinotopia series. Salerno earned a Bachelor of Arts in anthropology from Stony Brook University and once worked in the American Museum of Natural History’s fossil laboratories, the perfect background for creating of this wonderful book.

The Riddle of the Tongue-Stones is sure to light the imagination of a scientifically-minded young readers, but it will tickle the fancy of science lovers of all ages. It’s a delightful blend of art, language, reason and faith, opening the heart to wonders both visible and invisible.