Last week, I found myself searching for a book a hostel mate had requested in the unlikeliest section of the library - the mathematics section. As I browsed through titles looking for a certain book on 'Complex Analysis', my attention was diverted by a large book with a gaudy cover, which stood out from the strict-looking maths texts. I removed the book Indra's Pearls: The Vision of Felix Klein with the intention of returning it to its proper shelf, which I supposed to be either design or theology. It turned out the book was on mathematics after all and strangely it had me hooked from page one. Maths was a subject I would have been good at if I hadn't found it boring. I remember getting a perfect 100 when I was in Grade 5, but as I grew older I rebelled against the idea of reducing my world to numbers. I've always looked back on maths with regret, because it was one subject I tried very hard to love, but couldn't. So, it was a little odd to see me sitting in the library completely absorbed in a book on mathematics. I remember from my school days that the maths text was always the ugliest of the lot. Either the publishers found nothing pretty about numbers, or maths was too sacred a subject to be defiled by any crazy illustrations. Indra's Pearls on the other hand had a charming cover of spheres reflecting each other and beautiful diagrams, especially the ones with a Mr Potato Head-like figure, that made exotic symmetrical shapes and other very interesting stuff. I liked it even more when the authors acknowledged the fact that most people (me included) associated maths "with something akin to the more agonising forms of mediaeval torture". The book calls itself a serious work on mathematics to be enjoyed by all. It begins with how important symmetry is in maths and in the world, such as in beautiful structures like the Taj Mahal, Mayan friezes and the wings of a butterfly. Then it delves into what German mathematician Felix Klein conceived, that of symmetries in the brave new world that existed outside the patterns of what we call the 'real' world. Technically, 'the non-Euclidean geometry' that was envisioned by him and his contemporaries was way too deep for me to fully comprehend. However, the interesting thing about it is the parallel drawn to a Buddhist metaphor that formed the basis for the title. According to the Hua-Yen Sutra (Flower Ornament Scripture), Indra, (a prominent deity in Buddhist and Hindu mythology) is said to have an infinite net of reflecting pearls. Each pearl is reflected in all the other jewels, along with the reflections within each of them. Therefore, the entire universe can be found in one pearl and also in each reflection in each pearl, thus to infinity. The book also had a guide for computer programmers to follow when designing such symmetrical patterns. I couldn't help marvelling how East Asian Buddhism could take such an avatar in the computing age. I never thought that there could be anything remotely beautiful about maths. This eye-opener of a book had historical anecdotes and even poetry that portrayed effectively the concept being introduced. When I read the lucid way the book talked about Complex Numbers, I wished I had found it in Year 11, when I gave up on maths because I thought studying that was pointless. The whole point of educating someone on a subject is to introduce them to certain truths and beauties of nature that they would have otherwise been blind to. Education fails when it becomes boring and disconnected from real life. I know I can't rewind the clock and embrace maths, but the least I can do now with the new enlightenment is to see that everything I learn is a little gem that has a life outside textbooks and a certain beauty of its own. ¥ Jennifer is a former Bahrain resident now studying in Mumbai. Her family still live here. |
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'Reflecting on the formula of life’s beauty',
Gulf Daily News, February 12, 2010, Jennifer Gnana
