"Every time he splits himself, he runs a fifty percent chance of being the one who dies. That means that he - the one in the shower - is the one who won the coin toss two hundred times in a row. This is impossible, and he doesn't know how to deal with it. He is alive, and he doesn't have the mathematics to explain how."
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Bechdel test: 5/5
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I've never read a book that truly made me, personally, happy to read it like this one did. If I ever did, it was when I was a kid and didn't know better. But that's what it was; I felt like a kid again, running through an intellectual playground.
This book is made for a specific person. That person is someone who, at the very least, understands what science is (cliché version optional, but allowed). That person is someone who loves thinking. Honestly, it's someone who loves some mental calculus. By calculus, I mean two things: a particularly logical and structured reasoning pattern AND, yes, literal calculus.
I have been doing work on some of my own hopeful contributions to my field, and this book was a helpful push for me when I needed it. In many ways it romanticizes that which I've never seen romanticized, and that which I never knew needed romanticizing. After reading it, though, I think I may have hit the peak of literature attuned to my love of math. Of course, there are mathematical articles galore, but they aren't what this is. This is a story that shows what abstract mathematicians dream of every night.
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Every day, you have something to work towards. You must add more to that work as much as you can before either someone else reaches it or the world gets to you first. Before you can even add to that work, though, you must know the limitations, the background, the terminology that has been found, examined, tested long before you were even born. Where do you start? What do you write? When given the entire history of humanity regarding a subject, how do you even balance a pebble of your own on top of such a mountain? Now, there are plenty of new fields being created/found every week and month, so perhaps your work is the first of its kind. But what if it's not the first of its kind, or even remotely close? What if the babylonians were studying the very same things as you and gave up? That's abstract math. As old and complex as time.
Now, what if that very system that you studied for your whole life never comes to fruition? What if it's just what it sounds like - abstract - nothing more? Think about how that would make people view you and how it would degrade you over time into nothingness, despite the difficulty of your work. Now, instead of all that, imagine that one day you find out that you actually, literally, found magic from your work? Suddenly, abstract math is the holy grail, the new age, the future. And you? A superstar.
To say that it felt like I was dancing through this story is putting it lightly, as you can tell by my extended analogy. It felt like swinging across integrated vines onto a distributed platform of operands and leaping towards a sea of prime numbers. It was fun!
Some reviews mentioned that the author "peaked" at this story and many people hate his other works after reading this one. I think it may not be a flaw of the other stories, but rather a testament to the greatness of this one. I concur with the beauty of it, myself.
And despite perhaps never getting another story as deeply suited to my tastes as this one was ever again, Im okay with that. At least I got to experience it once.
That said, if you know what a derivative is or you love unique magic or power systems, read this.