Читать книгу It All Adds Up - Stephen Wilson S., Mickael Launay - Страница 5

‘Oh, I’ve never been much good at maths myself!’

I’m getting a little blasé. This must be at least the tenth time I’ve heard that remark today.

But this lady has been here at my stall for a good fifteen minutes, standing with a group of other visitors, listening attentively while I describe various geometrical curiosities. That’s how the conversation started.

‘But what do you do for a living?’ she asked me.

‘I’m a mathematician.’

‘Oh, I’ve never been much good at maths myself!’

‘Really? But you seemed to be interested in what I was just talking about.’

‘Yes … but that’s not really maths … that was understandable.’

I hadn’t heard that one before. Is mathematics, by definition, a discipline that can’t be understood?

It’s the beginning of August, in the Cours Félix Faure in La Flotte-en-Ré, France. In this small summer market, I have a pop-up – there is henna tattooing and afro braids to my right, a mobile-phone accessory stall to my left, and a display of jewels and trinkets of all kinds opposite me. I’ve set up my maths stand in the middle of all this. Holidaymakers stroll peacefully by in the cool of the evening. I particularly like doing maths in unusual places. Where people aren’t expecting it. Where they are not on their guard …

‘Can’t wait to tell my parents I did some maths during the holidays!’ This from a secondary school pupil as he walks past my stall on his way back from the beach.

It’s true – I do catch them slightly unawares. But sometimes you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do. This is one of my favourite moments: observing the expression on the faces of people who thought that they had fallen out with maths for good at the instant when I tell them that they have just been doing maths for fifteen minutes. And my stall is always crowded! I present origami, magic tricks, games, riddles … there’s something for everyone.

No matter how much this amuses me, on balance I find it upsetting. How has it come about that we need to hide from people the fact that they are doing maths before they can take some pleasure in it? Why is the word so frightening? One thing is certain: had I put up a sign above my table proclaiming ‘Mathematics’ as visibly as ‘Jewels and necklaces’, ‘Phones’ or ‘Tattooing’ on the stalls around me, I would not have had a quarter of the same success. People would not have stopped. Perhaps they would even have turned away and averted their gaze.

All the same, the curiosity is there. I observe this every day. Mathematics is scary, yet even more, it is fascinating. Some may not like it, but would like to like it, or at least to be able to peep at will into its murky mysteries. Many think it is inaccessible. But this is not true. It is perfectly possible to love music without being a musician, or to like to share a nice meal without being a great cook. Then why should you have to be a mathematician, or someone exceptionally clever, in order to be open to hearing about mathematics and to enjoy having your imagination tickled by algebra or geometry? It is not necessary to delve into the technical details in order to understand the great ideas and to be able to marvel at them.

Since time out of mind, innumerable artists, creative spirits, inventors, artisans, simple dreamers, or the purely curious, have done maths without being aware of the fact: mathematicians despite themselves. They were the first to ask questions, the first to undertake research, the first to brainstorm. If we want to understand the whys and wherefores of mathematics, we have to set out on their trail, since it all began with them.

The time has come to embark on a journey. Please allow me the space of these few pages to carry you with me into the twists and turns of one of the most fascinating and most astonishing disciplines ever practised by humankind. Let us set off to meet those who have created its story through unexpected discoveries and fabulous ideas.

Let us set out on a big adventure and see how it all adds up.