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A Disappearing Number
A Disappearing Number takes as its starting point the story of one of the most mysterious and romantic mathematical collaborations of all time. Simultaneously a narrative and an enquiry, the production crosses three continents and several histories, to weave a provocative theatrical pattern about our relentless compulsion to understand.
A man mourns the loss of his lover, a mathematician mourns her own fate. A businessman travels from Los Angeles to Chennai pursuing the future; a physicist in CERN looks for it too. The mathematician G.H. Hardy seeks to comprehend the ideas of the genius Srinivasa Ramanujan in the chilly English surroundings of Cambridge during the First World War. Ramanujan looks to create some of the most complex mathematical patterns of all time.
Threaded through this pattern of stories and ideas are questions. About mathematics and beauty; imagination and the nature of infinity; about what is continuous and what is permanent; how we are attached to the past and how we affect the future; how we create and how we love.
The book features an essay by Marcus du Sautoy, Professor of Mathematics at Wadham College, Oxford, and an introduction by Simon McBurney. The Complicité production was an astonishing success during its run at the Barbican, London in Spring 2007, winning The Evening Standard's Best New Play Award 2007. Called ' Mesmerizing' by the New York Times, 'A Disappearing Number' is a brilliant play, aided with original music composed by the award winning DJ, producer and writer Nitin Sawhney.
'A Disappearing Number' was revived at the Novello Theatre, London in autumn 2010.
A man mourns the loss of his lover, a mathematician mourns her own fate. A businessman travels from Los Angeles to Chennai pursuing the future; a physicist in CERN looks for it too. The mathematician G.H. Hardy seeks to comprehend the ideas of the genius Srinivasa Ramanujan in the chilly English surroundings of Cambridge during the First World War. Ramanujan looks to create some of the most complex mathematical patterns of all time.
Threaded through this pattern of stories and ideas are questions. About mathematics and beauty; imagination and the nature of infinity; about what is continuous and what is permanent; how we are attached to the past and how we affect the future; how we create and how we love.
The book features an essay by Marcus du Sautoy, Professor of Mathematics at Wadham College, Oxford, and an introduction by Simon McBurney. The Complicité production was an astonishing success during its run at the Barbican, London in Spring 2007, winning The Evening Standard's Best New Play Award 2007. Called ' Mesmerizing' by the New York Times, 'A Disappearing Number' is a brilliant play, aided with original music composed by the award winning DJ, producer and writer Nitin Sawhney.
'A Disappearing Number' was revived at the Novello Theatre, London in autumn 2010.
120 pages, Paperback
First published September 1, 2008
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About the author
Simon McBurney
16 books8 followersSimon Montagu McBurney, OBE (born 25 August 1957) is an English actor, writer and director. He is the founder and artistic director of the Théâtre de Complicité, London. He has had roles in the films The Manchurian Candidate, Friends with Money, The Golden Compass, The Duchess, Robin Hood, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, Magic in the Moonlight, The Theory of Everything and Mission: Impossible – Rogue Nation.
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Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews
March 8, 2011
I really liked the way mathematics and numbers were interlinked with emotions, relationships of the characters and events taking place. It was so subtle, you could almost miss it. But if looking closer, it was all there - a great network of references. The formulae which lie behind our lives. The layers of different space and time entwined elegantly into one.
Nevertheless, as I read the foreword before reading the play, I was aware of the real events, which inspired the play. Too aware, which kind of ruined the whole thing for me. Some things started to be just documentary descriptions and others fictional illustrations. In this case, I would have preferred to be the ignorant reader.
Nevertheless, as I read the foreword before reading the play, I was aware of the real events, which inspired the play. Too aware, which kind of ruined the whole thing for me. Some things started to be just documentary descriptions and others fictional illustrations. In this case, I would have preferred to be the ignorant reader.
February 15, 2023
This is a play that leaves you conscious of mysteries. Mysteries of numbers, mysteries of human connection, mysteries of time and place.
It’s not a very straightforward thing. From the title on the cover to the last lines of the text, which are about a river and the mingling of bones, through to the appendix, which deals with a tricky bit of math, this play is nothing if not evocative and elusive.
It’s mainly about an Indian mathematician named Srinivasa Ramanujan and an English one named G. H. Hardy, two figures who, within their realm, are about as famous as, oh, I don’t know, maybe Beatrice and Dante, or Laurel and Hardy, or Babbage and Lovelace. Ramanujan and Hardy came together for a while at Trinity College, Cambridge, in the early years of the 20th century to combine their respective talents and do groundbreaking work, the results of which are still reverberating—vibrating, like the strings of string theory, and in fact some of their work applies there.
But the play is about more than Ramanujan and Hardy. It touches on mathophobia and mathophilia; if you don’t like math or don’t understand it, you’ll find yourself reflected in the cast, and likewise if you do. It employs a number of characters in two time periods. It evokes most of all a world of numbers and our manipulations of them (math, in short) but also two cultures (India and England), and the crossing of distances that we call travel (ships, trains, airplanes), and memory (hence also space and time), and something that’s not easy to say without sounding trite. Maybe it’s this: the relations between numbers, the relations between people and numbers, and the relations between people.
If you take “theater” to mean what’s done on a stage and “drama” to refer to one of the genres of written literature, then A Disappearing Number is much more a work of theater than of drama. One of the preliminary notes in the published edition says as much; it describes the work as “a record of Complicite’s original production” but also says that it’s “a play whose fluidity and use of video, movement, music and sound design, in addition to text, make it largely resistant to attempts to capture and pin down in traditional script form.” That’s another way of saying that if you read this, you’ll have some work to do, in order to imagine seeing and hearing it.
References are scattered through the text to the phone number of one of the characters, which ends in 1729. Hardy also refers to this once, as the number on a taxicab he took. When he says that it seems to him “rather a dull number,” Ramanujan corrects him and says, “No, Hardy, 1729 is a very interesting number. It is the smallest number expressible as the sum of two cubes in two different ways.” This suggests that Ramanujan was one of those people (another is in the movie Rain Man) who had a sense for numbers, possibly a way of mentally seeing them, that far exceeded what most people are capable of.
The play doesn’t dwell on this, any more than it dwells on much of anything for long. It nonetheless gives us, even in reading, a multiplicity of impressions, of minds and bodies communing, of numbers forming up and dancing. It can be hard to conceive what this play was like in production. But it’s easy to grasp, if you do a good job of visualizing the script, that the Complicite company has a sense for theater that far exceeds what many are capable of.
It’s not a very straightforward thing. From the title on the cover to the last lines of the text, which are about a river and the mingling of bones, through to the appendix, which deals with a tricky bit of math, this play is nothing if not evocative and elusive.
It’s mainly about an Indian mathematician named Srinivasa Ramanujan and an English one named G. H. Hardy, two figures who, within their realm, are about as famous as, oh, I don’t know, maybe Beatrice and Dante, or Laurel and Hardy, or Babbage and Lovelace. Ramanujan and Hardy came together for a while at Trinity College, Cambridge, in the early years of the 20th century to combine their respective talents and do groundbreaking work, the results of which are still reverberating—vibrating, like the strings of string theory, and in fact some of their work applies there.
But the play is about more than Ramanujan and Hardy. It touches on mathophobia and mathophilia; if you don’t like math or don’t understand it, you’ll find yourself reflected in the cast, and likewise if you do. It employs a number of characters in two time periods. It evokes most of all a world of numbers and our manipulations of them (math, in short) but also two cultures (India and England), and the crossing of distances that we call travel (ships, trains, airplanes), and memory (hence also space and time), and something that’s not easy to say without sounding trite. Maybe it’s this: the relations between numbers, the relations between people and numbers, and the relations between people.
If you take “theater” to mean what’s done on a stage and “drama” to refer to one of the genres of written literature, then A Disappearing Number is much more a work of theater than of drama. One of the preliminary notes in the published edition says as much; it describes the work as “a record of Complicite’s original production” but also says that it’s “a play whose fluidity and use of video, movement, music and sound design, in addition to text, make it largely resistant to attempts to capture and pin down in traditional script form.” That’s another way of saying that if you read this, you’ll have some work to do, in order to imagine seeing and hearing it.
References are scattered through the text to the phone number of one of the characters, which ends in 1729. Hardy also refers to this once, as the number on a taxicab he took. When he says that it seems to him “rather a dull number,” Ramanujan corrects him and says, “No, Hardy, 1729 is a very interesting number. It is the smallest number expressible as the sum of two cubes in two different ways.” This suggests that Ramanujan was one of those people (another is in the movie Rain Man) who had a sense for numbers, possibly a way of mentally seeing them, that far exceeded what most people are capable of.
The play doesn’t dwell on this, any more than it dwells on much of anything for long. It nonetheless gives us, even in reading, a multiplicity of impressions, of minds and bodies communing, of numbers forming up and dancing. It can be hard to conceive what this play was like in production. But it’s easy to grasp, if you do a good job of visualizing the script, that the Complicite company has a sense for theater that far exceeds what many are capable of.
January 16, 2025
A play that revolves around math? Yeah no, I can't say this was particularly written for me... This play definitely would be better to watch, BUT because this is goodreads and I read the play, I will be only talking about it as a written experience. It is written in a very jumbled manner, with the multiple stories taking place at the same time, jumping forward and backward and all around in time, not only in the past storyline and the present storyline but in those individual storylines it doesn't follow a linear timeline. It just is a confusing read, and having big math equations used to explain a lot of the themes does not help with the confusion. Is this a bad play though? No I wouldn't say that. It has merit to it, with interesting themes presented and leaves plenty of ideas for discussion. Someone who actually enjoys math would definitely find a lot more of the ideas in this play more impactful. Personally, I just didn't fully enjoy reading it myself.
January 18, 2025
I read this for my theatre class. If I were to rate the actual experience of reading this, I’d give it a lower rating because it is really confusing. However, I’m also rating this on enjoyment of the story and play itself and it just needed to be seen performed. Usually I am one to say that they can hold up in just script, but given this is a devised script, so it’s basically just a record of what the performance ended up being, I am rating strictly off of how I can see this performed, as it was created via the act of performing than just a playwright putting pen to page. I would recommend watching it over reading though. There are some beautiful existential themes and quotes in this that also boost it up.
September 4, 2018
I saw the production at the Barbican in 2007, and while it wasn't my favorite play I've ever seen, it stayed with me nonetheless... Especially the scenes with Al on the phone with Barbara. I remember being so charmed by the relationship between a character onstage and a character presented only as a voiceover. I'm glad I found a copy of the script so I can revisit it over 10 years later. It's a beautiful balance of mathematics, art, philosophy, string theory, and romance. I recommend you check it out!
June 2, 2023
Reading this was good, but I do think maybe I need to read it again as the patterns (no math pun intended) that the play creates are all hard to hold in your mind when just reading.
Nevertheless, I loved the spiralling way the story unravelled itself; the tangle of characters and ghosted voices of loved ones passed muddied up in the line of the narrative to create a complex tapestry of time and space
. So much mystery, never thought about maths being more real than the real world. Anyway good times.
Nevertheless, I loved the spiralling way the story unravelled itself; the tangle of characters and ghosted voices of loved ones passed muddied up in the line of the narrative to create a complex tapestry of time and space
. So much mystery, never thought about maths being more real than the real world. Anyway good times.
October 21, 2018
I saw this play in Sydney and I loved it. It is the only play where I have found myself so immersed in the story that I forgot I was in a theatre. Reading the play did bring it back for me. Additionally, I was able to more easily ponder on some of the mathematical concepts and their relevance to the characters. It was good to revisit it again.
May 24, 2018
I can imagine this being a lot more powerful and affecting in performance but perhaps doesn’t translate amazingly into writing.
May 18, 2021
Simon McBurney is nothing short of a genius. A true visionary.
December 20, 2017
I give this 5 stars after having seen the play. I first read it, and it was hard for me to follow, as it jumps from scene to scene suddenly, and with no regard for a linear timeline. I had trouble visualizing it, but the production I saw brought it to life and made it an amazing theater experience for me.
The foundation is definitely there in the text, and what shines through even in the whirlwind of storytelling that is this play is the beautiful relationship between the fictional mathematician, Ruth, and her eventual husband, Al. This was the highlight of the play for me, more so than the remarkable and tragic true story of the real-life Indian mathematician Ramanujan, because this relationship was expressed so honestly and tenderly that I was affected by these characters much more so than Ramanujan, who remains a remote figure throughout the play. I would say A Disappearing Number is actually a love story that is influenced by the mathematics of Ramanujan, and its last paragraph is one of the most touching declarations of love I have ever read.
The foundation is definitely there in the text, and what shines through even in the whirlwind of storytelling that is this play is the beautiful relationship between the fictional mathematician, Ruth, and her eventual husband, Al. This was the highlight of the play for me, more so than the remarkable and tragic true story of the real-life Indian mathematician Ramanujan, because this relationship was expressed so honestly and tenderly that I was affected by these characters much more so than Ramanujan, who remains a remote figure throughout the play. I would say A Disappearing Number is actually a love story that is influenced by the mathematics of Ramanujan, and its last paragraph is one of the most touching declarations of love I have ever read.
November 3, 2015
Everything adds up beautifully in Theatre Complicite's exquisite meditation on maths, love, grief and the way the past is linked to the future and the living to the absent, suggesting we are all linked to one another, even – or perhaps especially – in death.
At its centre are two love stories: the affection of Hardy for the self-taught mathematical genius Srinivasa Ramanujan, a lowly clerk in Madras whose discoveries have shaped modern maths; and the relationship between Ruth, a maths lecturer, and Al, an American of Indian descent who deals in futures. Ruth and Al want to build a future for themselves, but Ruth's biological clock is ticking as loudly as the one in her lecture theatre.
At its centre are two love stories: the affection of Hardy for the self-taught mathematical genius Srinivasa Ramanujan, a lowly clerk in Madras whose discoveries have shaped modern maths; and the relationship between Ruth, a maths lecturer, and Al, an American of Indian descent who deals in futures. Ruth and Al want to build a future for themselves, but Ruth's biological clock is ticking as loudly as the one in her lecture theatre.
December 3, 2009
I loved this play. I loved the math and I loved the relationships and I loved that they intertwined so beautifully. I'm going through more family death, so the multiple character deaths in this play really got to me, but they were portrayed with such loving detail that they almost made me more comfortable in my own sadness.
I wish more people were open to math as an art form. Numbers are so magical and they really spoke to me as I read A Disappearing Number.
I wish more people were open to math as an art form. Numbers are so magical and they really spoke to me as I read A Disappearing Number.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
September 9, 2012
The script isn't perfect, but it is to this day the most memorizing performance I've seen on stage.
June 17, 2012
3.5/5.
Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews