The Indian Clerk

The story has been told before. Not long before the first World War, G. H. Hardy, the well-known English mathematician, receives a letter from an unknown Indian clerk asking Hardy to review and comment on certain mathematical results. Hardy consults with J. E.Littlewood, another eminent mathematician, and together they decide the Indian might be a self-taught mathematical genius. After trial and tribulation they manage to get the Indian to Cambridge. Hardy and the Indian genius collaborate on some outstanding mathematical papers. The genius, far from home and comfort and family, gets sick, and returns to India to die. As for Hardy--Hardy has the satisfaction of knowing that he worked on nearly equal terms with the great Ramanujan. A subtext of the story is that mathematical genius, like musical genius, is hard-wired in from a very early age. The corollary is that unless the genius is smothered or suppressed, it somehow gushes forth, like water. In some sense "The Indian Clerk" is a historical novel, but then in some sense "Troilus and Cressida" is a tale about the Trojan War. David Leavitt, in telling a rousing good story, is poking and prodding and trying to figure something out. What exactly? Maybe he is drawing a parallel between mathematicians and homosexuals, both so formed before conscious choice kicks in. That's an element, but it doesn't go far to explain the book. Time and again, particularly in talking about the relationship of John Littlewood and Anne Chase, Leavitt plays with the tension between the human need to be connected and the human need to be unconstrained. But that's not what the book is "about." Maybe Leavitt is puzzling about the divisions in this world, on the one side the "large bottomed," on the other side the lean types who "think too much." Leavitt is intrigued by the issue, but he's also interested in a lot else. He certainly is interested in the math itself. From time to time he sticks some into the book, and then talks around it: which is a good thing: Hardy and Littlewood and Ramanujan are really doing math. The book is thick with incident and character and texture. Bertrand Russell shows up in the novel, and Ludwig Wittgenstein, and the Apostles, and the background noise of The Great War. Leavitt has carefully researched the historical record, and this gives him leave to use it for purposes of his own, although what his purposes are cannot be easily delineated. Probably that is just as well. A mathematician friend, who doesn't much like the novel, challenges me to state why I like it so much. Not so easy. I like it because it's exciting. Because the novel's cheerful acceptance of Hardy and Littlewood and Ramanujan enlarges the area of acceptable behavior. Because the novel teaches me things. The book has an author's voice that is personal and authentic and that knows a lot that is worth knowing. "This is the way I see the world," Leavitt says, and if I don't always agree, it is

This book is insightful and enjoyable. What an interesting idea to write a novel about the relationship between mathematicians Hardy and Ramanujan! The central tension in the book is the entrance of self-taught Indian mathematician Ramanujan, the "exotic other", into the insular world of a Cambridge college. There is just enough math in the book to enable the reader to get a feel for the way mathematicians work. The author has created a convincing picture with believable characters of that rarefied academic world.

"The Indian Clerk" is the most wonderful book, a fascinating look at World War I life and culture - a time quite similar to our own. But it is much more - a wild foray into mathematics, a close look at The Apostles Group, brilliant young men who dominated European intellectual life for many decades, and a romance of sorts. As rich and varied as it sounds, the book is truly a page turner, full of heart and life.

When the Indian mathematician Ramanujan lay seriously ill he was visited by the English mathematician G.H. Hardy who remarked that the taxi he rode over in was number 1729, "a rather dull number." Not so, responded Ramanujan, it's the smallest number expressible as the sum of two cubes in two different ways. This is a fictional biography of those two men, who stood out as great mathematicians of the early 20th century. Hardy felt that Ramanujan was perhaps one of the greatest mathematicians of all time. Sad, then, that Ramanujan died at the age of 33. The reader profits in two ways from this book as it is an elegantly literate novel, and it provides a great deal of accurate information about these two men's lives (Leavitt provides a 6 page bibliography at the end of the book). It's a book by David Leavitt, and thus you will find his usual references to the gay life. Well actually it sometimes seems as if most of the characters are gay. That shouldn't bother the average straight reader, though, as you quickly become absorbed in the life of these two men. Famous personages of the time such as Bertrand Russell, and Lytton Strachey wander in and out of the story. Ludwig Wittgenstein also plays a cameo role. World War I makes a somber appearance, and has its effect on the principals. Ramanujan, a self taught mathematician, is brought from India to Cambridge by Hardy who fills the role of Ramanujan's tutor. Mr. Leavitt does an excellent job of showing how the Indian struggles to adapt to the English way of life. There is a lot of humor in this as kindly hosts try to make edible vegetarian meals for him. English food is often bad enough as it is (I lived there for a few years), and the veggie meals were disasters. There's not much real math in the book which will come as a relief to the mathematically challenged (and perhaps a bit of a disappointment to the mathematically inclined). Some reviewers have indicated that the characters weren't well developed, but I feel the exact opposite. Yes, G.H. Hardy comes across as a bit of a cold fish, but to my knowledge that's the way he was. In summary, I feel that The Indian Clerk is superbly written, the prose is elegant, and the story holds your attention throughout. By the way, Ramanujan is pronounced ra' mah' noo jan, the accent on the first two syllables.

Leavitt, David. "The Indian Clerk", Bloomsbury, 2007. David Leavitt, Once More and Better Amos Lassen David Leavitt has worked hard to earn his reputation as "one of our most respected writers" and he wears that title proudly with the publication of his brilliant new novel, "The Indian Clerk". He is the author of eleven works of fiction (including "The Lost Language of Cranes", "While England Sleeps", and "The Body of Jonah Boyd') and two works of non fiction. When I see the name David Leavitt on the cover of a book I know before I open the pages that I am in for quite a read and have never been disappointed. I marvel as his ability to transform his thoughts into beautiful language as well his way of developing new plot ideas. There is always a surprise with Leavitt and he always manages to make me feel like I have really read a book that matters to me. (I would love for him to come to the Arkansas Literary Festival and I am doing my best to that end). "The Indian Clerk" is an ambitious contribution to literature and the sharp and elegant use of the English language is absolutely wonderful. The book explores the relationship between two mathematicians, G.H. Hardy and Srinivasa Ramanujan. It all began in 1913 on a morning in January when Hardy at 37 years old and considered by many to be the greatest British mathematician of his age, received a letter from India. The letter was from a self-professed mathematical genius who claimed that he was on the brink of being able to solve the most important unsolved mathematical problem of all time. Even though some of Hardy's colleagues at Cambridge dismissed the idea as a hoax, Hardy was convinced that the writer, the Indian clerk, Ramanujan, should be considered with serious thought. Hardy enlists the aid of two men, his collaborator, Littlewood and a young instructor, Neville, who is preparing a trip to India with his wife, and is determined to find out more about Ramanujan and possibly use Neville to persuade him to come to Cambridge. Hardy's decision will not only affect his life deeply but it will also have an affect on all future mathematicians and the history of mathematics. Hardy was a reclusive scholar and a closeted homosexual and brings a second storyline into the novel which is presented as a series of lectures some of which he imagined. Ramanujan gains fame as the Indian and Hindu calculator and as the novel moves, we get a look at the academic culture of Cambridge which is at times quite risqué. The novel is fiction but it based upon a true story and contains shreds of authenticity throughout and we also read about D.H. Lawrence's 1915 visit to Cambridge as well of Ludwig Wittgenstein and Bertand Russell. Leavitt manages to take one little look at history and explodes it into an emotional story that will have you engrossed. It is a tale of the "fragility of the human connection and the need to find order in the world". The book questions colonialism, sexual identity and the na