A Beautiful Mind, A Difficult Book, A Rewarding Read

Even though I picked A Beautiful Mind: The Life of Mathematical Genius and Novel Laureate John Nash the day after I saw the film, I must warn the reader: I'm a total glutton for genius stories. This purchase would have been done movie or no movie. And I will review only the book--film is a different media with its own set of rules. That said.

Book in hand, I undertook the task of diving into Nasar's research fest, an investigation of John Nash's life, Nobel Prize winner in economics in 1994. To my relief, I soon realized that Nasar wasn't just spooning me facts; more importantly, she opened the door into Nash’s mind—a brilliant mind that sinks abruptly into a destructive madness and, years later, floats back up, intact enough to tell the tale.

A day later, when I dropped the book, I finally investigated what I had purchased. Set in chronological order, the paperback holds a trove of endnotes, a selected bibliography—thorough enough to make further reading eternal--and a small insert of black and white photographs that span Nash’ life. And the text is fully indexed. That in itself should have scared me. However, the meat of the work meticulously dissects this brilliant man's fascinating journey, and it does so without the benefit of ornamentation or apologies, little indication of a bias, and a thorough research undertaken for the sheer interest in the subject. This book is a labor of love and it reads as such.

But I must warn you. This love is for the subject, not for the reader. My journey through the book was like a stay at a not-so-good hotel where you put up with the inconveniences because someone you admire slept in the bed. While you read, expect no handholding, no page-turners, and no excuses for a life that is difficult to comprehend and hard to relate to.

Looking back, I have to admit that my own interest in the mechanism of brilliance made this one of the most enjoyable reads of my life. Half way through the book I got a veritable rush at tiptoeing though the cracks that separate original thought from madness. The book deftly raises the question of whether Nash was a genius because he was mad or in spite of it. Sylvia Nasar doesn't answer the question. I doubt anybody can. But her insight on the world around him, the people that knew him, and--due to Nash’s amazing recovery--the mind of the man himself gave me enough fodder to rechew this dilemma.

I also have to admit that if it hadn't been for my obvious interest on the subject, I don't think I could have finished the book. In terms of style, Nasar's is at best terse, at worse, dry. A lot of issues are raised and then dropped (Why does Nash behavior seem so amoral? Is it a result of the illness? What happened to the "other woman" after Nash' recovery? Why did his wife finally take him back?). This may leave many readers unsatisfied, wanting to better understand this life so distant from the norm.

Pick this book, if you love math, research, and thinking. Don't pick it if you want satisfactory answers or a lulling trip to somebody else's psyche. This book demands a lot from its reader. You will have to exert effort to get to the end.

And yet, I'm going to recommend the book. Why? Because I am stubborn about sharing the subjects I love with other people, because the book raises questions that MUST be answered, and because--who knows--you may actually discover you enjoy the workout your own beautiful mind will surely get.