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Editorial Review Book Description
The brilliant new novel from one of our most respected writers—his most ambitious and accessible to date.
On a January morning in 1913, G. H. Hardy—eccentric, charismatic and, at thirty-seven, already considered the greatest British mathematician of his age—receives in the mail a mysterious envelope covered with Indian stamps. Inside he finds a rambling letter from a self-professed mathematical genius who claims to be on the brink of solving the most important unsolved mathematical problem of all time. Some of his Cambridge colleagues dismiss the letter as a hoax, but Hardy becomes convinced that the Indian clerk who has written it—Srinivasa Ramanujan—deserves to be taken seriously. Aided by his collaborator, Littlewood, and a young don named Neville who is about to depart for Madras with his wife, Alice, he determines to learn more about the mysterious Ramanujan and, if possible, persuade him to come to Cambridge. It is a decision that will profoundly affect not only his own life, and that of his friends, but the entire history of mathematics.
Based on the remarkable true story of the strange and ultimately tragic relationship between an esteemed British mathematician and an unknown—and unschooled—mathematical genius, and populated with such luminaries such as D. H. Lawrence, Bertrand Russell, and Ludwig Wittgenstein, The Indian Clerk takes this extraordinary slice of history and transforms it into an emotional and spell-binding story about the fragility of human connection and our need to find order in the world.
Customer Reviews (15) 
Interesting, but not for the reasons advertised
The premise for this novel, often recounted by reviewers, does not need to be rehashed here.Before WWI, the famed British mathematician Hardy receives a letter from an unknown clerk in far off India who demonstrates extraordinary mathematical skill.After some hindrances, Hardy brings the Indian clerk, Ramanujan to Britain, where the two collaborate and produce a series of extraordinary breakthroughs, seeking even to solve the long elusive Riemann Hypothesis.Through all of this, Leavitt shows great talent as a writer of historical fiction, bringing the period to life, along with a series of famous characters such as Bertrand Russell.
Unfortunately, Leavitt is no mathematician.Not only will readers wishing to understand the Riemann Hypothesis find themselves in frustration searching the internet to understand what he fails to explain well, but a series of errors obvious to any lay person leave you wondering about his basic understanding of this aspect of his work.While I suspect many have begun this work interested in learning about the curious historical personality dubbed "the Hindoo Calculator" eventually one realizes that this is far from the most interesting part of the story.Leavitt, writing mostly from Hardy's perspective, leaves Ramanujan's motivations and inner life as obscure to the reader as it is to his narrator.As such, the character becomes at best thin, and on occasion a mere cipher.Yet once you recover from this disappointment, one recognizes that in other ways this novel shines, if not in this purported central plot, then in the milieu through which the story flows.
Leavitt does a fine job bringing to life the oddities of British academia, with its secret societies, strange traditions, and rampant class chauvinism.He also gives the reader an interesting view into the transformative effects of WW I's horror on what in their positivism, many pre-war intellectuals clearly imagined as a society heading inexorably towards utopia.Indeed, the rank suffering and wonton destruction of the war are so well presented, one often finds oneself forgetting about the entire mathamatics plot line, and bemoaning when the author returns to the Hardy-Ramanujan relationship.
As one can tell, this long work is far from perfect.Yet Leavitt's thoughtful efforts and interesting character studies are certainly worthy of consideration.Perhaps in the future some other novelist will be able to climb into Ramanujan's head, but that will be another novel, for another time.
Not enough focus
Ramanujan was a brilliant enigma. I hazard a guess that most people grasping for information about him are looking for details of the beautiful mathematics he produced and reasoned speculation how someone with such imited access to education and contemporary knowledge could produce such a wealth of work.
This book, while very well written, has more references to student homosexuality than any worthwhile insight into Ramanujan who appears to be nothing more than a quirky sub-plot. I do not care to be told 20 times his landlady cannot cook Indian food. Where did his magic come from ?
If you are looking for the science - avoid this book.
An attempt to respond to a challenge
The story has been told before.Not long before the first World War, G. H. Hardy, the well-known English mathematician, receivesa letter from an unknown Indian clerk asking Hardy to review and comment on certain mathematical results.Hardy consults with J. E.Littlewood, another eminent mathematician, and together they decide the Indian might be a self-taught mathematical genius.After trial and tribulation they manage to get the Indian to Cambridge.Hardy and the Indian genius collaborate on some outstanding mathematical papers.The genius, far from home and comfort and family, gets sick, and returns to India to die.As for Hardy--Hardy has the satisfaction of knowing that he worked on nearly equal terms with the great Ramanujan.
A subtext of the story is that mathematical genius, like musical genius, is hard-wired in from a very early age.The corollary is that unless the genius is smothered or suppressed, it somehow gushes forth, like water.
In some sense "The Indian Clerk"is a historical novel, but then in some sense "Troilus and Cressida"is a tale about the Trojan War.David Leavitt, in telling a rousing good story, is poking and prodding and trying to figure something out.What exactly? Maybe he is drawing a parallel between mathematicians and homosexuals, both so formed before conscious choice kicks in.That's an element, but it doesn't go far to explain the book.Time and again, particularly in talking about the relationship of John Littlewood and Anne Chase, Leavitt plays withthe tension between the human need to be connected and the human need to be unconstrained.But that's not what the book is "about."Maybe Leavitt is puzzling about the divisions in this world, on the one side the "large bottomed," on the other side the lean types who "think too much." Leavitt is intrigued by the issue, but he's also interested in a lot else.He certainly is interested in the math itself.From time to time he sticks some into the book, and then talks around it: which is a good thing: Hardy and Littlewood and Ramanujan are really doing math.The book is thick with incident and character and texture.Bertrand Russell shows up in the novel, and Ludwig Wittgenstein, and the Apostles, and the background noise of The Great War.Leavitt has carefully researched the historical record, and this gives him leave to use it for purposes of his own, although what his purposes are cannotbe easily delineated. Probably that is just as well.
A mathematician friend, who doesn't much like the novel, challenges me to state why I like it so much.Not so easy.I like it because it's exciting. Because the novel's cheerful acceptance of Hardy and Littlewood and Ramanujan enlarges the area of acceptable behavior.Because the novel teaches me things. The book has an author's voice that is personal and authentic and that knows a lot that is worth knowing."This is the wayI see the world,"Leavitt says, and if I don't always agree, it is a pleasure hearing his voice.
ultimately disappointing
An easy read, this book was ultimately disappointing. I bought it because it showed up on several "best of 2007" lists. If these lists are to be believed, then it was not a good year. Why disappointing? Two reasons.
Firstly, the tale about one of the most interesting epochs in 20th century intellectual history is missing from this book. The idea that a relatively unschooled person could penetrate mathematic so deeply and an establishment Cambridge Don would recognize and then promote this person should make for a great intellectual story. However, nowhere in the book do we get a sense of why Ramanujan was so amazing, or the how this collaboration fit into the history of mathematics. Rather, we are fed a steady diet of Hardy's sexual predilections (which I have no idea of their truth, and ultimately is not all that interesting). What could have been exciting intellectual drama ends up soap opera.
Secondly, at no point do we see things through Ramanujan's point of view. While there is a long history of Orientalist/Colonial writings in which Asians serve as place holders and projections of Northern European sensibilities, it is disappointing to find this in the 21st century and in a book that is apparently highly regarded. The book presents the subjective views of Hardy (mostly), but also other minor characters, such as the wife of another professor who develops a crush on Ramanujan. Nowhere do we find out what Ramanujan thinks or feels. We only know what others think of Ramanujan. He is never a person in this book. The book should have been named "The Cambridge Don." That would have been more accurate, even if not any more satisfying.
Brilliant: Best Yet from Leavitt
I have been following David Leavitt's career for 15 years. While everything he has written has been very enjoyable, I was completely blown away by The Indian Clerk. Perhaps it is because my late uncle was a mathematician or perhaps I felt throughout the novel that I was actually back in Cambridge in the 1910s. I highly recommend the novel! Brilliantly written with an air of elegance and excitement throughout.
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