Book Review: "Eleven Numbers" by Lee Child

When I picked up this story by Lee Child, the last thing I expected was math. At least I didn’t have to solve any equations!

Nathan is a mathematician and a university professor. He’s well known in his field, but mathematicians aren’t quite celebrity material. So needless to say he’s tremendously surprised when he gets a call from the White House, telling him that his help is needed.

“He was a very able mathematician. But there were fifty others in the world just as good. Maybe a hundred. His publication history was competitive. He had contributed to all the important journals. But so had fifty others. Maybe a hundred. His debut had been his PhD thesis. Groundbreaking, really, but in a field no one was interested in. Nothing about him stood out.”

He is flown to a meeting at the National Security Agency—a meeting attended by a famous mathematician and the President of the United States, as well as two intelligence officers. When Nathan is shown a series of 11 equations, he determines that they are part of a computer security algorithm. The correct numerical sequence is a powerful tool: it controls access to Russia’s nuclear arsenal.

The person who created the algorithm is a famed Russian mathematician. The President and his security team want Nathan to meet this man to try and get feel for which of the 11 equations will allow them the access they need. So they get Nathan an invitation to attend a mathematics conference in Russia, and he should be able to meet the man. But nothing goes quite like expected.⁣

This was very different than anything else of Lee Child’s that I’ve read. There were more twists than I was expecting, but it was a little dry. Or maybe it’s my phobia about math…

Book Review: "The Life Impossible" by Matt Haig

I’m a huge Matt Haig fan. The Midnight Library, The Comfort Book, and How to Stop Time are some of my favorite books. Given that fact, his newest book was one of my most eagerly anticipated this year. Unfortunately, this one didn’t live up to my expectations.

Grace has spent much of her life grieving: first, her son was killed before he became a teenager, and then her husband recently died. But then she gets a surprise out of the blue when she learns that a woman she knew briefly when she was teaching has left her a house on Ibiza.

Why would Christina leave her a house? They hadn’t been in touch for so long. Grace wants to make sense of it all, so she heads to Ibiza to see what answers she can find. She has no plan, she barely speaks Spanish, and she doesn’t know what to expect.

Ibiza awakens a lot of feelings for Grace, and forces her to come to terms with her own past, present, and future. And as she searches for answers about how Christina died and why she picked Grace to bequeath her house to, things get stranger and stranger. For a woman who has always turned to mathematics to help her cope with chaos, keeping an open mind is a challenge.

The book is told as a letter Grace is writing to a former student. While Haig paints an evocative picture, the narrative drags in a number of places and feels a bit schizophrenic in others. And although magical realism is one of my favorite plot devices, in this book it was all a bit too bizarre for me.

I’m definitely sad when a book I’ve been looking forward to is disappointing. But that won’t keep me from eagerly awaiting Haig’s next book.

Book Review: "The Code for Love and Heartbreak" by Jillian Cantor

In Jillian Cantor's new YA novel, The Code for Love and Heartbreak, math is one thing. Love is another.

It’s senior year of high school for overachiever Emma Woodhouse. She’s at the top of her class, she’s co-president of the Coding Club, and with her perfect SATs, she hopes to go to Stanford next year.

But while she has the academics down pat, she’s not particularly social. She doesn’t really have many (or any) friends save George, her co-president, and she has no desire to find a boyfriend.

In an effort to win a national coding competition, she comes up with a great idea: an app which will match her fellow students up based on mutual interests, using an algorithm. George and some other club members think she’s lost her mind—love isn’t something you can code.

But “The Love Code” seems to be working, and all of her classmates are interested in getting matches. What does it mean, though, when the matches don’t work?

The more focused on the app and the competition Emma becomes, the more blind she is to what’s going on around her. Why are people breaking up if the algorithm predicts matches? And how can an algorithm consider the intangible qualities that make people fall in love?

This was a cute and enjoyable retelling of Jane Austen’s Emma. (It’s been a while since I read that one, so while I know the names of the characters are the same, I don't remember how much of the plot of this book resembles that one.) Sure, it’s predictable, but that didn’t really matter to me.

I love a good rom-com, even when math is involved!

Movie Review: "Hidden Figures"

When I went to see Hidden Figures I joked on social media, "Let it be said I am seeing a movie about math." While obviously this movie is about so much more than that, it is truly fantastic to see a movie which focuses on the superior intellect of women, particularly minority women, at a time when contributions from both groups in "serious" fields was hardly valued.

As the space race between Russia and the U.S. heated up, with the Soviets in the lead, NASA was under significant pressure to put a man in space. In addition to the large number of mathematicians, engineers, and scientists they had on staff, NASA relied on "human computers," African-American female mathematicians who were used to perform calculations and analysis—but not be seen or heard unless spoken to. Informally supervised by Dorothy Vaughan (Octavia Spencer), these women were smarter and faster, but rarely even thought of beyond their abilities to get work done.

One of the smartest of these "computers" was Katherine Johnson (Taraji P. Henson). She is assigned to work with the men calculating how to get a man into space before the Russians did so, and she quickly proves her worth, despite the resentment and prejudices of those around her. But despite the fact that she is asked to calculate figures without access to classified information that would help, as well as the subpar treatment shown to all African-Americans at this time in history, Katherine quickly catches the eye of the NASA Director (Kevin Costner), who begins to rely on Katherine more and more, despite some things he just doesn't understand about her.

Meanwhile, Mary Jackson (Janelle Monáe), is encouraged to apply for one of the engineering positions that has opened up at NASA. She's perfectly qualified (perhaps more so than others), but in an effort to keep African-American women from advancement, the job requirements were changed to include coursework that is only available at segregated schools. She wants to challenge the system, but is discouraged by some (including her husband) from making too much of a fuss.

At the same time, Dorothy is becoming increasingly frustrated by NASA's refusal to formally give her the supervisor position (and pay) for which she has essentially been doing the work for some time, but she sees opportunity in another challenge: mastery of the new mainframe computer that NASA has brought in, which has the potential of replacing all of the "human computers."

As NASA begins preparing for John Glenn's launch into space, Katherine's work becomes ever more crucial, yet she is challenged by the obstacles that keep being put in her path. She wants to attend the meetings where the up-to-the minute data is discussed, and she wants to be viewed as an actual member of the team, not just the typist who is actually doing all of the work. Will her calculations prove correct, and will Glenn make it to space and back safely?

Hidden Figures succeeds on so many levels. It brings to the public eye the achievements of some truly unsung heroes whose work made a huge difference in our world, as schools don't teach about Katherine Johnson, Mary Jackson, and Dorothy Vaughan when they're talking about the space program, they talk about the astronauts. The film also conveys some strong messages, yet never seems heavy-handed. It also succeeds in creating tension even though you know most of what will happen, but you get so invested in the characters and the story you can't stop yourself from getting nervous.

This film may be a crowd-pleaser, but it's also a tremendously well-acted one. Henson plays a role very different to many of those she's played recently, and walks a line between the deference her character was supposed to show and her frustration that her intelligence wasn't valued the way it should. I really don't understand why she hasn't been more of a factor in the Oscar conversation, since she really has some great moments.

This is the second memorable performance that Monáe has turned in this year (after Moonlight), and this absolutely should land her among the nominees for Best Supporting Actress this year, as her Mary Jackson is fiery, funny, and unabashedly proud of her intellect. Her biggest competition is Spencer, who is always good, but I didn't think her performance rose to the level of Monáe's (mainly because her role wasn't as exciting). Where the Oscars are concerned, however, sometimes the familiar gets in over the more-deserving. (Ironically, when watching the previews before this movie started, Spencer is in five of the movies we saw previews for.)

I really enjoyed this movie, and absolutely expect it to get a Best Picture nomination in a few weeks. It's rare that a movie with female leads does as well at the box office—this weekend marked the film's second consecutive week at #1—and it's even rarer to see a film succeed which features women's intellectual prowess as such a significant factor. Hopefully this is a sign of things to come!

Book Review: "And Every Morning the Way Home Gets Longer and Longer" by Fredrik Backman

It's ironic that mathematics figures into the plot of this book (but you shouldn't let that scare you), because I thought about approaching this review as a mathematical proof. Given that Larry is a total sap, prove that this utterly exquisite novella will leave him an emotional wreck. Done and done.

"Noah holds the old man's hand, the man who taught him to fish and to never be afraid of big thoughts and to look at the night's sky and understand that it's made of numbers. Mathematics has blessed the boy in that sense, because he's no longer afraid of the thing almost everyone else is terrified of: infinity. Noah loves space because it never ends. It never dies. It's the one thing in his life which won't ever leave him."

On its surface, this seems like a very simple story about the special relationship between a boy and his grandfather, the many interests and loves they shared, and how much the latter learns from the former, as well as vice-versa. But as you delve deeper, and read Fredrik Backman's almost-poetic dialogue and see his imagery in your head, you realize this book deals with the fear that comes from memory loss; the everlasting nature of love; how palpable regret can be and while it may actually be easy to make amends, how hard doing something easy can be; and the sadness of having to say goodbye to loved ones.

The beauty of this story is letting it unfold without knowing too much, so I don't want to say anything more about the plot. I felt that this was so special because it demonstrates that you can find courage in the midst of fear, and that, clichéd as it might sound, love—both romantic and familial—can be enough to help you through the hard times.

My paternal grandmother was probably one of my most favorite people ever, and I know that I was her favorite. We called her our "playing grandma," because even in her 70s, she would be on the floor playing with my siblings and I, taking us to New York City museums, even climbing up steps in the Statue of Liberty. No matter what I did, she was always as proud as if I had scored the winning goal, won the Nobel Prize, and made millions of dollars all at the same time. She died 12 years ago at the age of 93, although we began losing her to dementia about three years earlier. To this day, I miss her more than words can say, so this book was one that made me smile through my tears, made me grateful to have had her as such a part of my life for so long.

I have read some absolutely fantastic books this year, many of which continue to stay with me long after I've finished with them. I've no doubt that this story of Noahnoah and his grandfather will be one of those, and I hope it is for you as well.

NetGalley and Atria Books provided me an advance copy of the book in exchange for an unbiased review. Thanks for making this available!

Book Review: "A Doubter's Almanac" by Ethan Canin

Can we escape the legacy of our parents or are we doomed to repeat their mistakes? Is genius more of a blessing or a curse, and what needs to be done to ensure it's more of the former than the latter? Are approval and recognition more powerful forces than love and security? These are just some of the questions Ethan Canin strives to answer in his latest book, A Doubter's Almanac.

Growing up in the 1950s in northern Michigan, Milo Andret lived a somewhat solitary existence. His parents kept to themselves and expected him to mostly do the same, and it didn't seem to faze him all that much that he didn't have much success making friends.

"He felt affection for his parents, and he understood that they felt affection for him. But the three of them hardly questioned one another, and they almost never revealed to one another anything of importance."

Milo knows he has talent, however, first demonstrated by his prowess in woodworking, and then when he attends graduate school at the University of California at Berkeley in the 1970s, he realizes his genius in mathematics stands him head and shoulders above his peers. But for someone who has always tried to blend into the background and not be noticed, his intelligence is finally something for which he strives to be recognized, and he doesn't care if people are jealous or offended by his treatment of them.

While at Berkeley he meets an alluring young woman who bewitches him, and he meets the man who will be his rival, both intellectually and romantically. Under the tutelage of his faculty adviser, Milo is challenged, bullied, and cajoled into defining the course of his dissertation, one that will once and for all demonstrate his superiority. But even when he makes this career-shaping discovery, it's not enough for him, and it sets his life on a constant struggle for fulfillment, satisfaction, and the need to prove and re-prove his intellectual prowess. It's debilitating, physically dangerous, and has harmful effects on those around him.

A Doubter's Almanac follows Milo's life into old age, his cantankerous and self-destructive nature never waning, even as it hurts those closest to him. It also follows the struggles of Milo's wife and children, particularly his son Hans, who seems destined to follow in his father's footsteps even if it's his sister who is the smarter one, and Hans' own appetite for self-destruction. The book examines whether we have any power to set our own course in life, or whether it is predetermined for us.

I've been a big fan of Ethan Canin's for a really long time, and I just love the way he tells a story. That being said, I didn't warm to A Doubter's Almanac as much as I hoped I would. The book got really technical and in-depth with regard to mathematical principles and equations, and given that I barely skated through the minimum number of math classes I had to take in high school and college, I couldn't get into those sections. And after a while, I realized that the emotional distance that Canin created for his characters kept me at arm's length, making it difficult to become fully invested.

Parts of this book are moving, and nearly all of it is spectacularly written, but I felt a little detached from the plot and the characters. Still, it is always a treat to read something written by Ethan Canin, and if you're not physically allergic to math, you might really enjoy this.

NetGalley and Random House provided me an advance copy of the book in exchange for an unbiased review. Thanks for making this available!

Movie Review: "The Imitation Game"

Alan Turing was one of the most brilliant minds of the last century. Yet because of the work he did, and the circumstances of his death, very few people know of him and what he accomplished. Hopefully, thanks to The Imitation Game, people may better understand the history-making contributions he made to our world.

At the start of World War II, Turing (Benedict Cumberbatch), an instructor at Kings College Cambridge and a published mathematician, goes to a job interview conducted by the top-secret Government Code and Cypher School. A military operation is searching for a way to break the German army's Enigma code so messages can be intercepted and the Nazis can be defeated. But this isn't a simple code—it changes every day at midnight, and there are millions and millions of possible permutations to consider.

Turing's confidence in his own intelligence, combined his with utter social awkwardness and obliviousness, quickly irritates the military commander (Charles Dance) who still reluctantly hires him, and then completely alienates him from the team of men with whom he is to work. And when the team leader (Matthew Goode) refuses to let Turing build the "super machine" he thinks could break the code, Turing takes matters into his own creative hands, and quickly gets control of the group, although he further raises the ire of the commander.

An effort to recruit additional people for the operation introduces Turing to Joan Clarke (a plucky Keira Knightley), a highly intelligent woman who wants a career far beyond those women were allowed in the 1940s. Joan is the perfect intellectual complement to Turing, a sounding board for his ideas and someone who tries to help him negotiate the more human side of his work. But while Turing truly enjoys Joan's companionship, he harbors a major secret of his own—he is gay—and the disclosure of this secret could land him in prison.

The Imitation Game follows Turing and his team as they race against time—and the powerful Nazis wreaking destruction across the world—to try and break the code. Turing must overcome those who doubt his abilities and the power of the machine he has built, he must battle the commander bent on firing him and labeling him a spy, and he must figure out a way to make sense of his life as it is unfolding. It is a heavy load for anyone to bear, especially someone who has always felt on the outside looking in.

I have always been a huge fan of Benedict Cumberbatch. His eyes are tremendously expressive, and his performances always combine steely strength with emotional vulnerability. (See his marvelous work in both Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy and Star Trek Into Darkness and you'll see what I mean.) But Cumberbatch is an absolute revelation as Alan Turing. Confident in his intellect yet insecure in what he is trying to accomplish, conflicted about the aftereffects of his work, and emotionally fragile, his Turing is so complex, admirable yet awkward, irascible yet sympathetic. While Cumberbatch's performance isn't as showy as Eddie Redmayne's in The Theory of Everything and isn't a comeback like Michael Keaton's in Birdman, it is his performance that affected me most profoundly. He already has received Golden Globe and Screen Actors Guild Award nominations, and I expect to see him nominated for an Oscar next month, deservedly so.

Knightley brings some of her trademark toughness to her role yet she imbues Joan with tremendous sensitivity and even a little vulnerability. She more than holds her own in her scenes with Cumberbatch, in particular the scene when he admits to her that he is gay. She, too, has been nominated for both Golden Globe and Screen Actors Guild Awards, and also is deserving of an Oscar nomination for her performance. The members of Turing's team—Goode, Allen Leech, and Matthew Beard, in particular—each have strong moments, as does Mark Strong as Turing's MI6 defender.

If I have any criticism about this movie it's the way it's structured. The movie shifts between 1951, when a robbery at Turing's home leads a police detective to suspect that the man is hiding something, to Turing's work during the war. It also periodically moves to the late 1920s, when he was a young man at boarding school and first let his emotional guard down. While I understand the need to tell all three parts of this story, the shifts back and forth were a little jarring, and at the end, what I really wanted to see was how they broke the Enigma code.

The Imitation Game is well done but I found it a bit difficult and painful to watch. But in the end, I hope that people realize what an incredible genius Alan Turing was, and realize that some of the greatest minds our world has seen aren't always the ones we expect, and are far from perfect.

Happy Pi Day!!

It's 3.14, which means it's Pi Day! I don't know about you, but I can always get into a holiday, however manufactured, that is built on dessert. (It's the math I have trouble with.)