Customer Reviews

A Tour of the Calculus

5 star:		(45)
4 star:		(23)
3 star:		(11)
2 star:		(16)
1 star:		(45)

 

 

By reading some of these reviews, one thing is obvious: anyone who first lists their qualifications as a mathematician or calculus teacher is basically going to nay-say the heck out of the book. And in a way, I'd say this is semi-appropriate: the book is definitely not a math book; I think the grievances arise basically because it's sold as one. Sure, the word "tour" is in the title, but that does little to suggest that this book would be more appropriately marketed as....well....a memoir? Maybe?

Don't get me wrong though: the book isn't absolutely terrible. Some commenters have derided the author for using words that are too big, widely unknown, etc. But that's one of the things I enjoyed about the book: a few years back when I read it I underlined every word I didn't know or was fuzzy about and used this book as a way to build my vocabulary. I wouldn't describe myself as a cheery optimist, but I definitely turned the heightened language of the book to my advantage...instead of just whining about it on Amazon.

As for learning calculus: if you are a new student to calculus, this book won't really help. I bought this book years ago as a supplement to my calculus course and quickly found I was just wasting my time reading it. If you are a non-mathematician and just want a little glimpse into calculus, then this might be a good book. I would laugh at anyone who said they learned calculus from the book though.

In other news (finally, my qualifications...bla, bla, bla): since I've bought the book, I've taken all the calc and differential equations courses, abstract and linear algebra courses, analysis courses, graduated with a degree in physics and have completed one year of graduate school physics. With this in mind: Upon re-reading sections of the book recently, I would say that this is a pretty fun SUMMER READ for super nerds who already know it all, but just want to leisurely read about some elementary calculus by an author who writes in a conversational tone.

I hoped for an insightful view into calculus. Indeed, there are many deep and interesting aspects of calculus which are generally obscured in a typical calculus textbook (or in a calculus class). This is not such a book.

Most disappointing was the constant distraction of mathematical errors, small and large, throughout the book. For example, there are typos, errors in notation, and misleading or confusing notation. For these problems, I understood the author's intention at these points (being a calculus teacher myself), but to a reader less familiar with calculus, these problems will hinder understanding. When a reader can't understand the mathematical details, much of the meaning is lost.

A few errors were utterly irreparable, such as the proof of the Intermediate Value Theorem. In that case, a correct proof would diverge greatly from that of the author. This specific error is unfortunate because it is for this theorem that the author develops the real numbers (which takes chapters), and upon this theorem that all later theorems are based.

Finally, I found the author's style annoying, especially the fictional accounts of specific actions taken by historical mathematicians (crossing a river, contemplating calculus while sitting in an overstuffed chair, etc.). The author must enjoy hearing himself wax poetic on any subject which enters his head, but I don't.

The book's back cover likens this book to Douglas Hofstadter's classic _Godel, Escher, Bach_, but the comparison is laughable. Hofstadter's book has a direct and clear style of writing, whereas _A Tour of the Calculus_ is unfocused and its numerous errors makes it is mathematically a sham.

I seem to be rather in the minority when I say that I actually liked Berlinski's verbose style; frankly, I don't really see what was so difficult to understand about it. On the other hand, I approached this book from the position of wanting something fun to read, and that's what I got, with the welcome addition of what I thought was lovely writing - if I had been searching for something that would give me an in-depth look at calculus, I would have looked elsewhere. Basically, I thought the book was really well-written and exciting (I had just begun calculus when I read it, so I found it really interesting to look at all the stuff we hadn't yet done.), and I highly reccomend it for a piece of fun reading and a decent overview.

As I recline gently in my reproduction eighteenth-century leather-backed desk chair, my hulking athletic frame weary from the day's toils, I breathe a sigh, and casually reflect upon my Berlinski reading experience. Each evening for the previous fortnight I had curled up in front of the warm, flickering fire, book in hand, brandy at side, and marveled at how many adjectives could be strung together merely through the prolific use of commas. Oh calculus, noblest of mathematical fields, will my weary intellect ever fully comprehend your vast depths and many intricacies? As I remorselessly toss this volume onto the hungry flames I feel a flood of relief overcome my body, heightening my spirits with the knowledge that I would not have to read this drivel again.

If you enjoyed plodding through this wordy (and poorly written) review just to find out that I thought this book was not worth the paper it was printed on, then by all means buy this book. It's for you.

I approached this book with some trepidation...after all, it was "recommended" to me be a friend who claimed that it was "the worst book ever written." How could I pass up such a magnificent opportunity?

Berlinski's prose has obviously been a sticking point for a lot of reviewers, so I'll address it first. It's terrible, no question--pretentious, and with a very low signal to noise ratio. It's just a never-ending series of digressions, few of which add any meaningful insight. In one episode, we're regaled with a tale of Cauchy stopping to use a public restroom. One has to surmise that the editor himself was unable to make it past the first chapter, or such drivel couldn't possibly have ever made it to press.

On the mathematical front, the story is less dire (though still not good). If you were to wade through the verbiage, you could conceivably gain some intuition on limits or the mean value theorem. But I didn't find much to chew on in his treatment of integration or differentiation, unfortunate for a book about "the" calculus. Berlinski also has an unfortunate, if somewhat excusable, tendency to confuse math and physics. At one point, he claims that "speed is a fundamental concept of the calculus". Kinematics is certainly the most obvious source of example problems for elementary calculus, but the two really are distinct.

In the end, I don't agree that "A Tour of the Calculus" is "the worst book ever", but I'm hard pressed to recall a non-technical book I've liked less. Berlinski's goal is noble, but the execution leaves a lot to be desired.

Berlinski never met a metaphor he didn't like - even ones that are completely inappropriate to the concept he is trying to covey. The substantive material in this book could have been well covered in perhaps 40-50 pages, rather than the 309 pages he fills with a seemingly endless morass of words. He says of his subject "Mathematics is conceived in the fires of the real world, and the functions that bring twitching life to the calculus represent processes beyond the closed coffin of a coordinate system..." Oh PLEASE.

Do yourself a favor and skip this one.

I am not a mathematician. I took calculus in college but never really understood it. I have, however, always wanted to understand it.

This book got glowing reviews so I bought it without leafing through it. My mistake. Compared to Berlinsky's book, the average college calculus textbook is a model of clarity.

Berlinsky is infatuated with words. He's never heard of a simple declarative sentence. One metaphor per sentence isn't enough. Indeed, if there is a literary conceit he doesn't indulge in to excess, I can't think of it.

His editor should have required him to read Strunk and White's Elements of Style daily for a year.

In short, as far as I am concerned, the other negative reviews I have read here are not only right on the money but not harsh enough.

LIKES: 1. Providing historical perspective/background of the key developments in the Calculus. Prior to reading this book, I only knew Cauchy's name from the various theorems that bear his name. How many people knew that he was the one who developed the concept and method of using limits? 2. Tied the abstract (x,y) to the concrete through examples where x=time and y=position. Allowed me to understand the Fundamental Theorem of Calculus not in terms of x's, y's, derivatives, and antiderivatives, but rather in terms of distance = rate * time. DISLIKES: 1. The style is pretentious, as if the writer was on a great high that only he could appreciate. 2. A few typo's like '6(t)' instead of 'G(t)'. I would recommend this for anyone who has studied the Calculus and would like 'the rest of the story'. It might also serve well as an introductory survey of the topic before delving into formal study.

Most people seem to be either math people or words people. You know what I mean. Most math whizzes have, well, let's say less than acute literary sensibilities (the reviewer who refers to Berlinski's prose as "Nabokovian" must be a math whiz), and most literary types are only barely literate in the language of mathematics. Few people seem to get both.

I've always been more of a literary type. It caused me no end of trouble during my teens and twenties, but I've finally learned to live with my mathematical limitations and appreciate what literary skills I do have. Nonetheless, I remain fascinated by the almost mystical quality of higher mathematics and mathematicians; hence my purchase of this book.

The fact that Berlinski can publish a book about the calculus gives away his status as math whiz. If anyone still has doubts, however, simply read his prose. I'd give my left arm to be able to understand mathematics at the level Berlinski can, but I can't and I accept that. Berlinski, however, seems unable to accept the fact that he is not a novelist and is fated never to be one.

He's evidently read all the "How To Become a Novelist..." books, but missed Strunk and White's pithy fundamentals of style; the man's never met a modifier, synonym, or metaphor he didn't like or thought couldn't be made still better by another. If you've ever wondered what fiction critics mean when they talk about "purple" prose, here's your answer. To call this style Nabokovian is like calling a ninth-grader's algebra homework Gaussian because it's done in colored pencil.

I wanted to like this book. A nonmathematical introduction to the concepts that inhere within the calculus is exactly what I'd like to read. But I simply cannot tolerate Berlinski's overcooked style (complete with hokey references to genuine novelists like Milan Kundera and Bret Easton Ellis) long enough to get at those concepts. His literary aspirations are too much in the way of his mathematical abilities.

I'll look elsewhere for a good book on calculus for non-specialists, and I can only recommend you do the same.

This time I picked it up thinking I could finish it because I'm teaching calculus this term. I knew the prose was absurdly flowery, to the point of severe distraction, but I thought I could get some nice images and phrases for my students. But I can't read any more. It's like listening to a Dan Fogelberg song. The points Berlinksi wants to make are terribly contorted in order to fit around his intended imagery. I must look elsewhere. Berlinki cannot help since he's just too full of himself here. I will not give this book to the library. I'll throw it in a Goodwill bin and hope they only charge a quarter for it. It is worth that. I'd throw it in the trash but I can't do that to any book.