Mathematical Apocrypha Redux
Steven G. Krantz Published by the Mathematical Association of
America (2005) 294 pp., ISBN 0-88385-554-2
Mathematical Apocrypha Redux is Steven G. Krantz' second
offering of anecdotes from the academic world. The book is published by
the Mathematical Association of America, as part of their Spectrum
series of books. This book has been seen in bookstores priced at $79.95.
While this book is a sequel, it does stand well on its own.
This book primarily consists of short anecdotes from and about
American mathematicians practicing in the 20th and 21st centuries, with
some notable exceptions. The anecdotes explore some of the more amusing
things that prominent mathematicians say and do. At first, it might seem
that we do not learn much about particular individuals, but as the
reader progresses through the book, these individuals are revisited, and
their personalities begin to emerge. The anecdotes are divided into
several chapters, each exploring a different experience, such as
frivolity, happiness, seriousness and confusion. An interesting anecdote
about communicating about mathematics is this one:
Occasionally the author includes some of his own experiences as a
mathematician. One example of this was an amusing story from a trip to
Australia, which reveals how visitors experience our sometimes
over-zealous bureaucracy:
The intended readership for this book is broad; including students
and teachers of mathematics, amateur mathematicians, and academics. I
found that the book would be accessible to each of these groups.
Although the reader is not expected to know any of the work of the
subjects, the subjects of the anecdotes are usually introduced in terms
of the area of mathematics which they practice. As a result, a
familiarity with the different areas of modern mathematics may prove
helpful.
If you are looking for an insight into the people behind modern
mathematics, the things that they say, the situations they get into, and
more importantly, their contribution to the general practice of
mathematics, then this book is well worth reading.
Stephen Bush
There was a story about two friends, who
were classmates in high school, talking about
their jobs. One of them became a statistician
and was working on population trends. He
showed a reprint to his former classmate.
The reprint started, as usual, with the
Gaussian [Normal] distribution, and the
statistician explained to his former classmate
the meaning for the symbols for the actual
population, the average population, and so
on. His classmate was a bit incredulous and
was not quite sure whether or not the statistician
was pulling his leg. "How can you
know that?" was his query. "And what about
this symbol here?" "Oh," said the statistician,
"this is [pi]." "What is that?" "The ratio of the
circumference of the circle to its diameter."
"Well, now you are pushing your joke too far,"
said the classmate, "surely the population
has nothing to do with the circumference of
the circle."
In the summer of 1995 I spent a very
pleasant month visiting Australian National
University as the Richardson Fellow ... They
took me out to dinner beforehand. The distinguished
chair professor Neal Trudinger
(1942-) was to attend. But he fell victim to
the copious Australian bureaucracy. What
does this mean?
I spent most of my first week in Australia
visiting various government and university
offices filling out forms. This seems to be the
nature of the place. But I figured that this
was the price that I had to pay for being a
distinguished visitor. Turns out that the
natives had to pay the piper also. One of the
laws in Australia is that the cushion in your
office chair must be
pumped up once every
two years. Trudinger's
was pumped up the
day of my famous
lecture. He went to sit
down and fell off his
chair. Because of his
injuries he could not
attend the dinner.