Meet Peridot

My name is Adamas Bontemps; as you will see, I was destined to discover the power of that elusive skill, the science of deduction. Upon reflection, that cold, windy February day in Chicago would change my life forever.

Science has been my fascination since childhood, and although, in 1985, I embarked on the study of gems, I could only get a handle on practical gemology once I met Professor Alister Peridot.

It was 1982 when I first met Peridot, a tall, slender man, meticulously dressed, clean-shaven, with rosy cheeks and a warm smile. He was on the docket as the primary lecturer for a weekend gem seminar at the Natural History Museum in Chicago. It was a three-day affair. Peridot’s forte was diamonds; in his flamboyant, jocular style, he captivated the audience with the power of the spoken word. The history, lore, remarkable properties, and his enthusiasm and love for studying that elusive gem. On day two of the conference, it was as if my mind was radiated by a glowing light, “That’s exactly what I want to do!” That day was magic; my purpose unexpectedly became clear: become a Gemologist. It was crystal clear to me now - my course was set.

One week later, doubts began to flood my thoughts. What was I thinking? The obstacles were immense; it would mean quitting my job, packing all my belongings, and moving to California. No income, no inheritance, no visible means of support. My resolve never wavered; three years later, alone in my 1979 AMX, driving cross-country to pursue my dream in California . . . 

After a four-day whirlwind trip, I arrived in Los Angeles. With no place yet to stay, I went straight to the School of Gemology to see what assistance they could provide. As I walked through the double doors of the main lobby, Peridot was coming down the stairs; I immediately recognized him and politely but confidently introduced myself.

"Adamas, Adamas Bontemps, did we not meet in Chicago about three years ago, said Peridot."

"Yes, yes, we did," I paused for a fraction of a second. He remembered me, and I was thrilled. "We spoke during the Gem Seminar you presented at the Natural History Museum. I was the curious one with all the questions.”

"Yes . . . So, you've made the trip from Illinois to pursue your Gemological studies?" said Peridot.

"I'm new to all this and very excited about this next phase of my life."

Peridot was a pedantic man of nearly fifty-seven years, quite fussy in his appearance, tall and lean as a whip, polite, genial, with piercing yellowish-green eyes. He spoke with a British accent yet mentioned that he, too, grew up a Midwesterner. He sported a neat mustache to complement his impeccable dress. He always wore a fine vest, a necktie, and high-gloss shoes. A clean matching square in his breast pocket doubled as his gem cloth. On his right hand, a large Peridot ring. Much later, I would learn, his acquired taste for fine red wine kept his senses keen.

One memorable afternoon, our Gem Identification class instructor mentioned that Professor Peridot wanted to see me in his office after class. This was my chance; given the opportunity, I would present what I considered a curious gemological challenge. Just how keen were his observation skills? I had to find out. Years earlier, I had acquired a ring sold to me as Jade, its true identity a mystery. My limited knowledge of gems led me to speculate Nephrite or possibly Jadeite!

"You wanted to see me, Professor Peridot?"

"Yes, Mr. Bontemps, you've been very helpful with the science and math portion of the curriculum to other students in the classes; I've heard very favorable comments from the instructors and students during your short time here. Have you considered your future after completion of this program?"

"I'm considering staying in Los Angeles to gain some experience in the jewelry industry."

"Excellent, my boy; I want you to consider returning to the school as one of our instructors." Said Peridot.

To curb my excitement, I quickly shifted the conversation. "Professor, if you have a moment, I have a little challenge for you. What do you make of this ring? How would you prove the stone's identity?” I said, placing the ring in his outstretched hand for examination.

He immediately took out his magnifier (trade term triplet). “It's elementary, my boy; you must first gather the necessary clues. Sound gemological reasoning begins with indispensable detailed observation; tell me, what do you see as the color of this stone?”

With a smirk, I responded, "Green, of course, but can we determine the true color without the proper lighting?”

“Let us not quibble over details; allow me to inspect the piece.” Peridot went on talking as he examined, “Next we check the stone's transparency; examine the cut, check for phenomena, examine the polish luster, check for fire, the heft of the piece, and possible assembly, any fractures, and if so fracture luster.” He studied it thoroughly for about three minutes and handed it back to me with an indignant look. “You call this a challenge. Why should I squander my time with such nonsense?”

“What do you mean?”

“My analysis: you purchased this ring in a pawn shop; it appears you paid very little for it.”

“How can you be so sure,” I asked?

“Well, the gold is stamped 10k, the casting and the shank are very thin, and it appears to have been re-sized. Note the difference in the thickness at the apex of the shank, re-sized by an amateur, I would say. Notice the graver marks; someone has added this crosscut design feature after the ring was cast." he paused to check the clock.

"The tablet-shaped stone itself, note the tablet's thickness variation. Note the spinach green color; as you rub the stone with your thumb, it exhibits a greasy luster. The surface is irregular and could stand some re-polishing. The stone is translucent with these green flecks of mica within the structure. This is typical of material from Wyoming; fine quality Jadeite from Burma has a more homogenous texture free from these annoying spots. All in all, this is obviously Nephrite, an inexpensive piece.”

With a bewildered expression, “You’re absolutely sure?" - he must have seen me glance at the refractometer on his desk. "My understanding is that to separate Nephrite from Jadeite, the key is refractive index (R.I.), 1.61 and 1.66, respectively, is it not? You have not taken an R.I.?

“My dear Adamas, calm down,” said Peridot, “this is exactly why we must get you past the obvious, just the gemological facts – you must learn to trust your observational skills and think deductively.” He leaned back in his office chair and smiled, “Deduction is the synthesis of observation, art, and science. It is obvious that you have missed everything of importance. With your recent training, you have hit upon the method, and you have a quick eye for color. However, you must never simply rely on general impressions, my boy, but concentrate on the details. A skillful gemologist is very careful indeed what he allows into the deep reaches of his mind. So, it is with the science of deduction to eliminate all unnecessary data. Expertise in one's field comes from studying only the essential information related to the profession.”

His green eyes twinkled, “Congratulations, my boy – you’ve taken the first step - the science of deduction, like any skill, must be practiced daily to be perfected.”

That day, my admiration for his powers of observation increased wondrously. That day, I vowed to my new friend, “Today marks the beginning of my practicing the time-honored methodology of observational discovery.”

Join this intrepid duo, dear reader, as Professor Alister Peridot and Adamas Bontemps venture into the kaleidoscopic world of gemstones, where every glint conceals a story waiting to be unearthed—a narrative spun with the brilliance of a diamond, the richness of an emerald, and the depth of a sapphire. Gemstone mysteries await, and our sage and his apprentice stand poised at the threshold, ready to decipher the secrets within the heart of the earth's most precious treasures.

. . . The adventure continues; click here.