Some interesting anecdotes and quotes:


     ~ A. Grothendieck, Récoltes et Semailles.




~ A. Grothendieck, Esquisse d'un Programme.




     ~ Tsachik Gelander, Moments with Nicolas, Hommage a Nicolas Bergeron.




~ A. Grothendieck, Récoltes et Semailles.




~ V. Arnold,  About Vlamidir Abramovich Rokhlin.




~ V. ArnoldAbout Vlamidir Abramovich Rokhlin.




Many of my more brilliant peers went on to become competent famous mathematicians. In hindsight, after 30-35 years, it does not seem to me that they left a deep imprint upon the mathematics of today. They did things, often times beautiful things, in a pre-existing context which they would never have considered altering. They unknowingly remained prisoners in their imperious circles, which delimitate the Universe of a given time and milieu. In order to overcome them, they would have had to rediscover within them the ability which they had since birth, just as I did: the capacity to be alone.

The small child has no difficulty being alone. He is solitary by nature, even though he enjoys the occasional company, and knows when to ask for mom’s permission teat. And he knows, without having ever been told, that the teat is his, and that he knows how to drink. Yet often times we lose touch with out inner child. And thus we constantly miss out on the best without even seeing it...

I address myself to you, reader, as I would a person, and a person alone. It is to the person inside of you that knows how to be alone, the child, with whom I would like to speak, and nobody else. I am aware that the child is often far away. He has gone through all sorts of things for quite some time. He went hiding god knows where, and it can be hard, often times, to get to him. One could swear that he has been dead forever, or rather that he has never existed - and yet I am sure that he is there somewhere, well alive.

~ A. Grothendieck, Récoltes et Semailles.



~ Yakov Eliashberg, My Encounters with Vladimir Igorevich Arnold



There was a distinct inner music. The air was thin and transparent. One could hear the sound of one’s breathing, of snowflakes falling, of hoarfrost’s brush decorating the windowpane. Old villages still existed within Moscow limits, such as wonderful Dyakovo, its empty church over an ancient cemetery on a high scarp above Moscow River, wooden houses edged by deep ravines, and vast apple gardens where nightingales sang. Poetry was by far more real than social ranks - poems were rewritten by hand and learned by heart.

... In the early 1970s the high winds of the Cold War brought permission for Soviet Jews to emigrate, and many signed up for what, with hindsight, was a verification of the universality of Griboyedov’s quip that the place where it is better for us to be is where we are not. The separation from friends was deemed to be permanent (the imminent demise of the Soviet Union was anticipated then no more than that of the US is now). Dima Kazhdan, Ilya Iosifovich Piatetski-Shapiro, and Osya Bernstein, with whom we were happily doing math for his last half year in Moscow, were among those who left. No one at the seminar could replace them.

~ Alexander Beilinson, I.M. Gelfand and His Seminar - A Presence.



~ V. Arnold,  About Vlamidir Abramovich Rokhlin.



But a good wine ought not to be drunk in haste, nor expeditiously.

~ A. Grothendieck, Récoltes et Semailles.



~ C. Jung, Archetypes of the Collective Unconscious.



... This rotation of crops is the vulgar, inartistic rotation and is based on an illusion. One is weary of living in the country and moves to the city; one is weary of one's native land and goes abroad; one is europamiide [weary of Europe] and goes to America etc.; one indulges in the fanatical hope of an endless journey from star to star. Or there is another direction, but still extensive. One is weary of eating on porcelain and eats on silver; wearying of that, one eats on gold; one burns down half of Rome in order to visualize the Trojan conflagration. This method cancels itself and is the spurious infinity. What, after all, did Nero achieve? No, then the emperor Antoninus was wiser; he says: You can begin a new life. Only see things afresh as you used to see them. In this consists the new life (Book VII, 2).

The method I propose does not consist in changing the soil but, like proper crop rotation, consists in changing the method of cultivation and the kinds of crops. Here at once is the principle of limitation, the sole saving principle in the world. The more a person limits himself, the more resourceful he becomes. A solitary prisoner for life is extremely resourceful; to him a spider can be a source of great amusement. Think of our school days; we were at an age when there was no esthetic consideration in the choosing of our teachers, and therefore they were often very boring-how resourceful we were then! What fun we had catching a fly, keeping it prisoner under a nutshell, and watching it run around with it! What delight in cutting a hole in the desk, confining a fly in it, and peeking at it through a piece ofpaper! How entertaining it can be to listen to the monotonous dripping from the roofl What a meticulous observer one becomes, detecting every little sound or movement. Here is the extreme boundary of that principle that seeks relief not through extensity but through intensity.

~ S. Kierkegaard, Rotation of Crops, a Venture in a Theory of Social Produnce.



Rather than letting myself be distracted by the consensus which prevailed around me, regarding what is considered “serious” and what isn’t, I simply trusted, as I had before, the humble voice of things, and followed that within me which knew how to listen. The reward was immediate, and beyond all expectations. Within the span of a few months, without even “meaning to”, I had discovered powerful and unexpected new tools. They allowed me to not only recover old results, reputedly difficult, in a more telling light, but also to surpass them, as well as to finally tackle and solve problems in “geometry in characteristic p” which to that day seemed out of reach using the methods known at the time. 

In our probing of things in the Universe (mathematical or otherwise), we dispose of a crucial rehabilitating power: innocence. By this I mean the original innocence which we have all received at birth and which rests within us, often the target of our scorn and of our deepest fears. It alone unites the humility and audacity which allow us to penetrate into the heart of things, while also allowing these things to penetrate into us and impregnate us with their meaning.

This power does not only come as a privilege for the extraordinarily “gifted” - (say) with an exceptional intellectual power allowing them to absorb and manipulate, with ease and dexterity, an impressing quantity of known facts, ideas, and techniques. Such gifts are admittedly precious, and susceptible to generate the envy of those (like myself) who were not so gifted at birth, “beyond all measure”.

Yet, it is not those gifts, nor even the most burning of ambitions, accompanied with a relentless will, which allow us to cross the “invisible and imperious circles” which enclose our Universe. Only innocence can cross them, without noticing or even caring to, during the times where we find ourselves alone and listening to the voice of things, intensely absorbed in child’s play...

~ A. Grothendieck, Récoltes et Semailles