After reading “Three Body Problem” last year, I started thinking back on my lectures in my first year of college. Our physics lectures were extraordinarily boring and mostly comprised a lecturer who solved problem sets in front us in an illegible scrawl on a projected screen. However, the early chemistry lectures were great and some of the best lectures I think I had in my 6ish years of university. The lecturer, Professor Paul Brint, who would often diverge into lengthy chemistry-related anecdotes, recommended a book called “Surely You’re Joking, Mr. Feynman” which has now been on my to read list for about 15 years. I decided to finally pick up a copy and go through it. I wasn’t disappointed.
Like Professor Brint, Richard Feynman was a master storyteller. The book is a collection of his stories, written in a quirky and energetic writing style, that describe his academic career, his work on the Manhattan Project, his dabbles in different disciplines, and his many esoteric hobbies. At the heart of each story is his childlike curiosity, his amazing problem solving ability, and his mischievous sense of humor. More than a few of his quips had me laughing out loud. His compulsive need to question order and rules lead to many tussles with bureaucracy during his career including several attempts to circumvent secrecy measures in place during his time on the Manhattan project.
Although most of the book is funny, there is a real humanity to it as well. In each instance, these human moments are succinctly captured in a short few sentences. The death of his first wife from tuberculosis and his method of coping by submerging himself into his work is described in a few sentences. The aftermath of working on the atomic bomb clearly left an imprint on him for the rest of his life and his thoughts on the matter are summarized quite concisely. He doesn’t delve into these subjects but he does tie them off in a hopeful tone. Feynman kept going after his wife died and the world kept going after the bomb.
Feynman’s grit saw him learn the bongos in Brazil, launch a side gig as an artist, and travel to many different countries. I especially enjoyed reading about how he visited Japan and his attempts to engage with the culture. It reminded me a lot of my own experiences when i first arrived in Tokyo. There are things I never thought I could ever eat before coming here such as fish. Like myself, Feynman went through a culinary catharsis. His enthusiasm for Japan led to him attempting to learn the language with this particular endeavor ending with frustration with the different levels of politeness and deciding that it wasn’t the language for him.
To be honest, I probably wouldn’t have selected physics after first year in college regardless of whether I had read Feynman’s book or not. However, I did and do find it captivating to be able to see physics from the perspective of someone passionate about finding practical solutions to everyday problems. Feynman’s physics seems very different from physics as we learned it in college. Rote learning of formulas, boring problem sets solved in front of us by someone else without interaction, and computerized formulaic experiments with subsequent report write ups seem antithetical to the physics of Feynman. Schools that trained students to pass exams rather than imbue students with any practical knowledge and books designed to be sold rather than cover any meaningful problems are vehemently opposed by Feynman in a number of his anecdotes.
I try to read at least one autobiography every year – in 2020, Phil Knight’s Shoedog book about the founding of Nike proved to be so good that it was awarded a permanent place on my minimalist Tokyo apartment bookshelf. As I think it will also prove reread-able, Feynman’s book has earned a place alongside it. Somewhat unexpectedly, Feynman’s patchwork of memoirs, equal parts intriguing and amusing, is the best book I read in 2021.
