Sunday, 1 February 2009

Today was the last day of our week off, and Jackie and I went for a walk in Hatfield Park, which was beautiful as ever but very cold. Last year, the park seemed vast beyond imagining. Jackie pointed out today that the more we know the park, the smaller it becomes. Still, it is good exercise.

The weather forecast is for snow – I am not sure if this is everywhere or if it is restricted to Kent. I spent the evening preparing for my return to work. I have 270 e-mails bearing little red flags to indicate that I need to reply to them. Poor me. And I pity anyone who has sent me one of those 270 e-mails. At about 9:00 pm, Jackie alerted me to heavy snowfall outside. I do hope it clears overnight.

Recent reading

I have recently read three books I can highly recommend. First, Marcus du Sautoy’s The Music of the Primes is a brilliant introduction to number theory. I have read a few books before on the history of maths etc, but I had absolutely no idea I was so ignorant or that number theory could be so exciting. I am still not sure I understand the Reimann Hypothesis. In fact I know damn well that I don’t understand the Reimann Hypothesis, except in a dark fumbling sort of way. But it was still a great book.

The Search for the Perfect Language by Umberto Eco is a fascinating history of the search for the (entirely mythical) perfect language that “expresses, without ambiguity, the essence of all possible things and all possible concepts”; splendid stuff. My only complaint is that the translation into English is very literal. But perhaps this was deliberate? At one point I was reading a modern English translation of a modern Italian book explaining a medieval Latin text that is a glossary Greek translation of a book originally written in Hebrew: I fear that something was lost in translation. I suspect that the perfect language will somehow be revealed within the solution to the Reimann Hypothesis.

The story of the English language is quite as thrilling as the story of prime numbers, and (if not perfect) the language has certainly shown itself to be more adaptable than many others. Melvyn Bragg’s The Adventure of English gives a pretty comprehensive survey of his subject. Yet I found something Not Quite Satisfying about Bragg’s writing. Perhaps he pulls his punches or is too conscious of abusing his iconic status? Perhaps I was troubled by some of his bar-room etymology. Perhaps he tried to pack too much into one book? Or perhaps he just had too much competition from Eco and du Sautoy? Anyway, it was still very good.