   I'd rather trust a poet than a scientist  Who could forget
the moment when, in the late 1980s, Martin Amis discovered
astrophysics IT IS a fair assumption that, when a number of
high-profile novelists trill in unison about a new enthusiasm,
the rest of us should be on our guard. Yet, not so long ago,
literary interest in science had seemed so well-meaning and
innocent. Who could forget the moment when, in the late 1980s,
Martin Amis discovered astrophysics - the casual references to
protons and Grand Unified theory, the equations dropped like
tintacks into the busy carpet of his prose? In London Fields,
the connection between black holes and his famous murderee
Nicola Six was bewildering until, with one sentence - "Caught in
the imploding geometry, the man and his rocket enter the black
hole." - all became clear. Phew, after all that, it was only
sex. What a relief.  Then the others joined in. Jeanette
Winterson, William Boyd, Ian McEwan, A S Byatt, even, briefly
and disastrously, John Updike. Perhaps, we