Since the beginning of civilization, numbers have been more than just a way to keep count. Perfect Figures tells the stories of how each number came to be and what incredible associations and superstitions have been connected to them ever since. Along the way are some of the great oddities of numbers' past time when finger-counting was a sign of intelligence (the Venerable Bede could count to a million on his hands)-the medieval Algorists, who were burnt at the stake for their use of Arabic rather than Roman numerals-the Bank of England, which stubbornly kept accounts on notched wooden sticks until 1826Filled with Crumpacker's eloquent wit and broad intelligence, Perfect Figures brings the history of numbers to life just as Bill Bryson did for the English language in The Mother Tongue .
I finished this and my impressions did not change from what I wrote while halfway through. Thank god she only mentioned the Da Vinci Code twice..
I'm having a little problem with the format, though. It seems she did not spend a lot of time really focusing on how she would organize the book. "Okay, I'll do a number per chapter and then some extras on big numbers at the end." This is fine, but she goes off on tangents in each chapter, talking about different types of number words that don't necessarily have anything to do with the particular number whose chapter hosts the topic. This is alright for the most part, because I can usually see where she is coming from.
The part that really gets me is that there is no story, no through line, the chapters don't go anywhere and often repeat themselves needlessly. It reads like a list of facts that have been turned into paragraphs. I'm learning a lot, but I want more cohesion. I think she should have grouped everything differently, with chapters like "concepts of many" or "the shape of figures" or "counting" or "unique number words and their origins" or "the pythagoreans" and then within each of these chapters gone number by number, with maybe just a short introductory chapter introducing the basics of each number.
Her style is a little flippant, and I feel like she thinks she's being really cute and clever at times, when really I would like her to use a complete sentence instead of concluding paragraphs with little phrasey witticisms. On top of this, she has so far referred to The Da Vinci Code twice, which I feel is inexcusable. Don't let this deter you, however, I think it goes to show what sort of audience she intended, rather than the quality of her ideas. On the other hand, the fact that she does not dwell on some of the more profound points she raises means that MY mind does the work, and I have the pleasure of making connections and discoveries on my own. This, so far, is the best thing about the book: the unusual connections and thoughts I wouldn't usually discover.
On the whole, though, I would recommend this book to anyone intrigued by it. You'll certainly come away with a lot of interesting, and for the most part useless (that's the best kind, isn't it?) knowledge.
On the one hand it sets out to explain the basic counting numbers (there are chapters on 1–9, zero, 10—12, 100, 1000, 1000000, and googol) but really it seems to be more about the use of the word(s) for the numbers; the lore associated with them; the superstitions about some of them; a little about their mystery. On the other hand it is also a primer in the role of numbers in developing the art of counting; and also includes some basic aspects of linguistics (e.g. different languages and their use of their words for certain numbers), and how we use them in our ordinary every-day conversations and writings. And it further includes a smattering of more extensive mathematics, religious connotations (mostly from the Pythagoreans, but not exclusively so); etc.
The author also has a tendency to be 'cutesy' about numbers, almost as if these numbers were real things, with feelings, and powers, etc. speaking about these aspects as if addressing a kindergarten class… It is almost as if this were simply a literary accumulation of just about every 'fact' about numbers and collating them more or less roughly in accordance with the chapters mentioned above.
The book also contains quite a number of quotations containing numbers scattered throughout in separate boxes, more or less tenuously linked with the number being dealt with in the particular chatters in which they appear. My favourite (found in the chapter on number eleven) is Groucho Marx (as Rufus T Firefly) in the 1933 film 'Duck Soup': "Gentlemen, Chicolini here may talk like an idiot, and look like an idiot, but don't let that fool you: he really is an idiot. I implore you: send him back to his father and brothers, who are waiting for him with open arms in the penitentiary. I suggest that we give him ten years in Leavenworth, or eleven years in Twelveworth."
There is much that is fun and interesting here, and in general I enjoyed the read, but at the same time it contains much that would be irritating to others. It both contains lots of information and yet lacks much as well. It is not obvious who the intended readership is…
Although the stream of tenuously connected numerical factoids can become tiresome, there are some truly scintillating gems in this book. I especially enjoyed Crumpacker’s emphasis on the physical basis for our conception of numbers, as well as how they stated interesting number theoretic trivia (for example, I was able to bust out a bit of modular arithmetic to prove why the last digits of the multiples of 9 descend, as well as an inductive proof for why the sum of 10 consecutive Fibonacci numbers is divisible by 11). This book allows you to engage with it either as a light dalliance or to delve deep into the structure of numbers to divine their truths.
Entertaining and interesting if a bit meandering at times and somewhat loose. I learned a lot about the history of numbers and counting, and the symbolism of numbers and actually found myself a little excited about some aspects of math which have never been that interesting to me. I do think that this could have been a better book, but that might be more on style than anything else.
Essentially, our current numbers seem to have mostly evolved from other cultures and words used to express numerical concepts (values) and then over time were mispronounced until we arrived at today’s word (pronunciations) for the values. What I found most interesting was the concept of “many”, as in, “1”, “2”, “3”, many… Many seems to be the universal expression for more than we care to count at the present time.
Another interesting point was the documenting of a perception I’ve had for a number of years, but never really knew how to explain, that is, my inability to count past four to six items. One number is more or less easy to count and remember. So are two or three numbers. But, when I get upwards of four numbers, I start to want to write them down or find some other way of assisting my memory. According to the author, this is universal in our species and hence the cross line in to five by lines and the switch to “IV” for “4” in Roman numbers. Four line (“IIII”) somehow starts to fool the human eye and five lines is “forget about it” (“IIIII”). The interesting thing (for me) was that I had personalized this and thought it was only me. I’d never heard anyone else complain about not being able to count by ones, so I assumed I was the only one with this problem.
“Perfect Figures” is full of historical anecdotes and cultural references which made the book even more enjoyable for me as I enjoy glimpses into understanding other times, nations, cultures and languages. I would like to give this book an unqualified “highly recommended” review, but for some reason I’m hesitant. Although the book is fairly short (about 260 pages), it took a long time to read (almost a month). I enjoyed reading most of it, but I never felt compelled to get back to it like I do most books I end up being totally “into”. Normally, I’d have expected to pour through this book in a day or two. But I didn’t. The closest I can describe it to is like an old friend who you only want to visit with a half hour at a time. You “feel” like you should spend the whole day with them, but in the end, you spend a half-hour and say, “No, I’m good. See you in a couple of days…”
Be that as it may, I did enjoy the book and do highly recommend it to anyone interested in a lateral view of numbers and counting and an understanding how mankind “may” have learned to count.
I was expecting a history of numbers - something that started with, say, cavemen, and moved forward through time. Instead the book was organized by number, which was kind of cool, but also caused a lot of stuff to get repeated.
This was more of the Cosmo / Redbook version of the book I hoped it would be.
The author also seemed to think that Apollo 11 was the only one to land astronauts on the moon. It was such a glaring mistake that I wonder what I missed in the areas where I didn't have background. Maybe nobody bothered with fact checking, and they just decided to let any old statement go buy?
One of those book that reminds me of people writing interesting ideas on note cards for their own books. There is some neat stuff about numbers if you're into the Bible, British Parliament, Roman Numerals and other lofty thoughts. I was disappointed when during the number 8 (my personal favorite), the author neglected to write about Section 8 Housing. I guess poor people don't exist in Bunny's number world. Maybe nobody else had written any fascinating facts about Section 8 housing for her to copy down on a note card.
I will never look at numbers the same again. I have always like math but now it is so interesting to see where the foundations and ideas of numbers came from. The author did a great job combining lots of information but not in a boring I am just reading statistics type of book. She brought in little known facts that kept you reading and wanting to know more...or at least it did to this math nerd.
Barely six weeks into the year, and I hit my first 5 star book (I'm darn sparing with those!). Extensive research presented in such a fun, interesting manner that I had to force myself to put down the book at times.