When we read the history of scientific ideas, almost invariably we read of a progression of linear advances that have led to our current level of understanding. Yet, in fact, science is a story in which most of the action occurs not on brightly lit pathways of progress but in blind alleys and darkened cul-de-sacs.

Richard Baum's book is an attempt to correct the imbalance. In it, he tells the story of some of the controversies and by-ways of modern astronomy. For example, in the late 19th century, most astronomers agreed that the surface of Venus contained huge snow-capped mountains, perhaps up to 40 km high. Baum recounts the observations that led to this theory and the debate until the question was ultimately resolved: the tallest mountain on Venus is a little over 11 km high – a fraction of earlier estimates.

This story, and the others like it, provides a reminder of the thousands of scientists, some regarded as leaders in their time, who don't appear in the history books. The work of only a few ever becomes known outside the scientific community. Most, contributing a small but necessary part to the collective endeavour of scientific discovery, remain unknown and anonymous.

Unfortunately, however noble Baum's intentions, this book fails as a narrative. In trying to portray the nature of the scientific conversation, the text becomes increasingly bogged down in minutiae. The stories degenerate into a monotonous regurgitation of new observations and discoveries, scientific papers and personal correspondence.

The tales in The Haunted Observatory may be compelling to astronomers, but I suspect they are largely impenetrable to most readers.