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Top positive review
8 people found this helpful
4.0 out of 5 starsA useful addition to the collection of memoirs by acquired savants
Bytreekilleron January 12, 2017
Struck by Genius is a useful addition to the growing collection of memoirs written by acquired savants-- and I think is primarily of interest to those who have a particular interest in this topic. Some reviewers complain about the inclusion of detailed mathematical discussion of Jason Padgett's drawings. However, other reviewers wish there were actually more math, and lament the many pages devoted to descriptions of Jason's personal challenges in dealing with his accident and its consequences. Others (and I count myself in this camp) are put off by the persistent self-congratulatory remarks throughout the book, and I find myself wondering how these survived the influence of a co-writer, agent, and editor. Nevertheless, what the majority of readers seem to agree upon, is that the brain is an exquisitely complex and mysterious organ, and that Jason Padgett's account of his experience leads us to contemplate the remarkable possibilities as we progress in unlocking the brain's secrets.
Top critical review
4 people found this helpful
3.0 out of 5 starsDisappointing
ByBook Loveron May 18, 2014
I love books about the workings of the human mind, and the true story of a party boy who becomes a mathematical genius after surviving a mugging seemed like it was right up my alley. Unfortunately his newly-discovered genius did not extend to writing, and even with a co-author, the writing was labored and repetitive. What would have been a fascinating article in the New Yorker was a dull slog through the self-absorbed ramblings of a Rain Man wanna-be. Do yourself a favor and skip this in favor of Born On A Blue Day: Inside the Extraordinary Mind of an Autistic Savant by Daniel Tammet, a much more interesting memoir on a similar subject.
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Jason Padgett is one of an estimated 1.7 million Americans who annually suffer traumatic brain injuries (TBIs). Jason's head trauma happened twelve years ago outside a karaoke bar where he was brutally and repeatedly punched and kicked in the head. After that, his life changed dramatically. Before the TBI, Jason's only goal was to live life 24/7 as an adrenaline-seeking, hard-partying extrovert. He describes himself at that time as a math and artistic dunce. He was an I-don't-care college dropout. He was the type of person who constantly needed something stimulating happening around him because he was incapable of just being quiet and entertaining himself from within his own mind.
After the TBI, Jason's whole personality and worldview was completely upended. Suddenly, he found an unlimited rich new world of numbers, geometry, and shapes; they endlessly fascinated him. He was completely entertained from within his own mind. He became a hermit-like introvert. He had little interest outside totally focusing on discovering and visualizing all the geometric fractal shapes he saw around him in everyday life. He started to draw these shapes and discovered he had a marvelous new ability to create artwork out of the shapes he saw all around him. He developed a keen new interest in math and, after going back to community college to learn some fundamental mathematical concepts, he started to delve into mathematical theory. He became a "mathematical marvel."
On the downside--and I learned from this book that there are always major downsides to TBIs--Jason developed an intense case of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). He also suffered the onslaught of frequent panic attacks. Perhaps most interesting of all, Jason became an extreme empath, i.e., at times he could feel the psychological and physical pain of other people so acutely that it would become seriously harmful to his own body.
I found Jason's life story and transformation extraordinarily fascinating, but also mightily puzzling and frustrating. The book held my attention throughout, yet I was also a bit disappointed. I wanted "more" and that intangible "more" wasn't there.
I was never fully convinced that Jason had become the "math marvel" that the book promised. Yes, he'd uncovered an amazing latent ability to understand math at a fairly advanced level, but this could hardly be called a math marvel much less a math genius. Neither did I find Jason's art to be all that compelling or creative. Yes, it is beautiful--you can look at his work on the Fine Art America Website--but it seems to be the natural by-product of his OCD focus on visualizing fractals rather than anything truly outstanding in its own right. I get the theory behind the pi drawing, but it doesn't make me ecstatic. I'm sure it provides him with a great deal of inner peace and tranquility to spend thousands of hours producing these highly repetitive designs--designs that a computer could easily be programmed to do on its own--but I couldn't help but feel sad for all those "lost hours" that might have been more productively used...for example increasing his knowledge of math, or focusing on learning the medical details of OCD and PTSD.
In the book, Jason repeatedly highlighted his prodigious new skill at narrowly focusing on a topic of interest and learning all he could about it from the Internet, yet so far, he has never been drawn to begin a highly-focused, in-depth study of OCD or PTSD...and this despite the fact that both disorders intervene enormously in his ability to live a normal life. For example, should Jason have taken the time to learn all he could, in depth, about the human microbiome, he might be able to break himself of the harmful practice of excessively lathering his entire body in antimicrobial lotions. Perhaps another habit might emerge to replace the one lost, a habit that might be less harmful and life-disabling.
An extrovert is predominantly concerned with obtaining gratification from what is outside the self, while an introvert is predominantly concerned with obtaining gratification from his or her own interior mental life. (I highly recommend reading Susan Cain's magnificent book "Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking" for more on this topic). This aspect of the book--at least for me--was the number one profound change that took place in Jason. The TBI propelled him from an extreme extrovert to an extreme introvert. I'd have liked to have seen more neurological interest and discussion in this book on that aspect of his transformation.
But I have to remind myself that this book is the intimate private story of Jason's life, not the life I would have wanted Jason to live. So I have no reason to be disappointed or frustrated.
I have nothing but sincere admiration for Maureen Seaberg's talent at writing this book. She did a remarkable job of getting inside her subject and channeling him in an authentic first-person narrative.
I recommend this book highly. It is unique and fascinating. However, if you read it, know that it may leave you with more questions than it answers. But isn't that always the case with life? It is infinitely mystifying.
I wish Jason all the best in his life ahead. I marvel at all he has achieved since his TBI. If he and Maureen were to update this book in another ten years, I suspect that we'd all see an even greater transformation in the years to come.
After the TBI, Jason's whole personality and worldview was completely upended. Suddenly, he found an unlimited rich new world of numbers, geometry, and shapes; they endlessly fascinated him. He was completely entertained from within his own mind. He became a hermit-like introvert. He had little interest outside totally focusing on discovering and visualizing all the geometric fractal shapes he saw around him in everyday life. He started to draw these shapes and discovered he had a marvelous new ability to create artwork out of the shapes he saw all around him. He developed a keen new interest in math and, after going back to community college to learn some fundamental mathematical concepts, he started to delve into mathematical theory. He became a "mathematical marvel."
On the downside--and I learned from this book that there are always major downsides to TBIs--Jason developed an intense case of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). He also suffered the onslaught of frequent panic attacks. Perhaps most interesting of all, Jason became an extreme empath, i.e., at times he could feel the psychological and physical pain of other people so acutely that it would become seriously harmful to his own body.
I found Jason's life story and transformation extraordinarily fascinating, but also mightily puzzling and frustrating. The book held my attention throughout, yet I was also a bit disappointed. I wanted "more" and that intangible "more" wasn't there.
I was never fully convinced that Jason had become the "math marvel" that the book promised. Yes, he'd uncovered an amazing latent ability to understand math at a fairly advanced level, but this could hardly be called a math marvel much less a math genius. Neither did I find Jason's art to be all that compelling or creative. Yes, it is beautiful--you can look at his work on the Fine Art America Website--but it seems to be the natural by-product of his OCD focus on visualizing fractals rather than anything truly outstanding in its own right. I get the theory behind the pi drawing, but it doesn't make me ecstatic. I'm sure it provides him with a great deal of inner peace and tranquility to spend thousands of hours producing these highly repetitive designs--designs that a computer could easily be programmed to do on its own--but I couldn't help but feel sad for all those "lost hours" that might have been more productively used...for example increasing his knowledge of math, or focusing on learning the medical details of OCD and PTSD.
In the book, Jason repeatedly highlighted his prodigious new skill at narrowly focusing on a topic of interest and learning all he could about it from the Internet, yet so far, he has never been drawn to begin a highly-focused, in-depth study of OCD or PTSD...and this despite the fact that both disorders intervene enormously in his ability to live a normal life. For example, should Jason have taken the time to learn all he could, in depth, about the human microbiome, he might be able to break himself of the harmful practice of excessively lathering his entire body in antimicrobial lotions. Perhaps another habit might emerge to replace the one lost, a habit that might be less harmful and life-disabling.
An extrovert is predominantly concerned with obtaining gratification from what is outside the self, while an introvert is predominantly concerned with obtaining gratification from his or her own interior mental life. (I highly recommend reading Susan Cain's magnificent book "Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking" for more on this topic). This aspect of the book--at least for me--was the number one profound change that took place in Jason. The TBI propelled him from an extreme extrovert to an extreme introvert. I'd have liked to have seen more neurological interest and discussion in this book on that aspect of his transformation.
But I have to remind myself that this book is the intimate private story of Jason's life, not the life I would have wanted Jason to live. So I have no reason to be disappointed or frustrated.
I have nothing but sincere admiration for Maureen Seaberg's talent at writing this book. She did a remarkable job of getting inside her subject and channeling him in an authentic first-person narrative.
I recommend this book highly. It is unique and fascinating. However, if you read it, know that it may leave you with more questions than it answers. But isn't that always the case with life? It is infinitely mystifying.
I wish Jason all the best in his life ahead. I marvel at all he has achieved since his TBI. If he and Maureen were to update this book in another ten years, I suspect that we'd all see an even greater transformation in the years to come.
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One night at a bar the hard-partying 30-something author of this memoir was mugged. He was punched and kicked in the head, probably left with a concussion. As his brain healed from the trauma, the author found that he had a profound new interest in and understanding of geometry. Simply walking around outside came to be mesmerizing, as the patterns inherent in nature jumped out at him. Prior to his injury he was no student, but now the author enrolled in college and devoted himself to a study of math, in order to better be able to communicate the whole new world opening up to him.
The part of this story that discussed the science behind Padgett's injury and the amazing results of his recovery were fascinating. I would have loved it if this book were entirely focused on math and science--how Padgett experiences the world and why his brain interprets stimuli as it does.
Unfortunately, a larger portion of this book is about Padgett's personal life, which I found much less interesting. His narrative voice has a self-congratulatory tone that permeates every anecdote contained within this memoir. In high school it was only he who could befriend the dirty and abused outcast, bring him home, and rescue him. A falling out with his brother was the result of Padgett simply being better at everything, from winning games to getting the attention of girls. Even their stepmother preferred him to his brother.
After his attack, when the author became fixated on geometry, he continued to work in his family's furniture store while taking college classes. He talks about discussing math and showing his drawings to all who come into the store. According to him, customers universally love these discussions while they are trying to choose furniture. None find it intrusive or annoying. He talked math to one woman for four hours and even ended up curing her depression.
Story after story had a similar theme, which seemed not to match up with what I've observed about people and their relationships to others, especially when one person is obsessed with an insists on talking endlessly about an obscure topic. I found myself skeptical of many of the author's claims about himself and the others around him, and this uneasy feeling detracted greatly from my enjoyment of this memoir.
The part of this story that discussed the science behind Padgett's injury and the amazing results of his recovery were fascinating. I would have loved it if this book were entirely focused on math and science--how Padgett experiences the world and why his brain interprets stimuli as it does.
Unfortunately, a larger portion of this book is about Padgett's personal life, which I found much less interesting. His narrative voice has a self-congratulatory tone that permeates every anecdote contained within this memoir. In high school it was only he who could befriend the dirty and abused outcast, bring him home, and rescue him. A falling out with his brother was the result of Padgett simply being better at everything, from winning games to getting the attention of girls. Even their stepmother preferred him to his brother.
After his attack, when the author became fixated on geometry, he continued to work in his family's furniture store while taking college classes. He talks about discussing math and showing his drawings to all who come into the store. According to him, customers universally love these discussions while they are trying to choose furniture. None find it intrusive or annoying. He talked math to one woman for four hours and even ended up curing her depression.
Story after story had a similar theme, which seemed not to match up with what I've observed about people and their relationships to others, especially when one person is obsessed with an insists on talking endlessly about an obscure topic. I found myself skeptical of many of the author's claims about himself and the others around him, and this uneasy feeling detracted greatly from my enjoyment of this memoir.
Jason Padgett suffered a traumatic brain injury during a mugging and underwent significant personal and mental changes. Among other things, he is now synesthetic, meaning that he perceives things in multiple ways simultaneously. Most synesthetes see numbers, letters, or musical tones as having particular colors. Padgett sees a particular geometry overlaid on the entire world, particularly lights, running water, reflections, and certain other phenomena. As a result, he becomes obsessed with drawing his "impressions" of particular numbers or phenomena, particularly the irrational number pi and his understanding of certain subatomic processes. Most of these drawings are the kind of line drawings a bored young person with a straightedge and compass might draw to kill some time: many lines intersecting in a single point with a spirograph-like set of intersecting lines around the central point, forming an approximation of a circle. To Padgett, these drawings literally are how he "sees" these concepts.
The synesthesia is interesting, and I have no reason to doubt it. The story took a stranger and more disturbing turn, however, when Padgett holed up for four years with almost no human contact in an apartment that was literally falling apart (there were pigeons living in a hole in the roof) and spending all of his time on the internet. In the process, he diagnosed himself with synesthesia, savant syndrome, PTSD, OCD, agoraphobia, depression, and various other potential maladies. The internet may be a great tool, but a reliable source of lay diagnoses of medical and psychiatric conditions it is not. Most of these self-diagnoses were never confirmed, at least not in the book, and it is not clear how many of the purported diagnoses are, in fact, diagnoses, as opposed to casual conversation with persons in the medical, psychiatric, or academic fields. Moreover, he was subjected to almost no testing for years after the incident, and so most of the purported diagnoses are presented as musings, not as declarative statements.
The real hole in the book, however, is this: there is nothing in it that supports the title. Nothing in it indicates genius or Padgett's status as a "mathematical marvel." He certainly gained a new interest in math, especially geometry, but almost nothing in the book demonstrates that he actually understands any mathematical concepts beyond how to create his drawings. There is one equation in the book, a needlessly complex (and, in practical terms, useless) method of calculating pi. The remainder of the "math" consists of Padgett's geometric "impressions" of various formulae, which he believes reflect a deep insight into the very nature of the universe. Speaking as a math major, I can state that none of Padgett's impressions or theories are more sophisticated than those presented in a trigonometry or precalculus class, if not earlier.
I do not doubt Padgett's suffering, the sincerity of his interest in mathematics, or that he has many daily struggles to overcome in light of his attack, and I do not mean to criticize him in any way. Rather, I simply want to warn readers that this book does not actually demonstrate that Padgett was "struck by genius" or became "a mathematical marvel." Instead, it is a very biographical book that demonstrates, at most, that Padgett's experience gave him synesthesia and an interest in subjects that he previously ignored, primarily math and physics. He was, apparently, a bright student in school who simply didn't apply himself to certain subjects. What the book demonstrates is merely that he developed an interest in some of those subjects after his injuries.
The writing itself requires a brief comment. This is not a well-written book. It rambles and delves into extended discussions of minutiae that do not add anything to the story. As I have said, it is mostly biography, including a huge amount of material related to his party-hard lifestyle before the attack. The substance of the book -- the impacts the attack has had on Padgett's mind -- might make for a interesting and short article, but no more. Instead, it is more than 200 pages long, rambling, full of commentary that often borders on outright narcissism, and devoid of content related to the main point: Padgett's purported new mathematical abilities.
I recommend taking a pass on this book; it simply does not deliver on its promises.
The synesthesia is interesting, and I have no reason to doubt it. The story took a stranger and more disturbing turn, however, when Padgett holed up for four years with almost no human contact in an apartment that was literally falling apart (there were pigeons living in a hole in the roof) and spending all of his time on the internet. In the process, he diagnosed himself with synesthesia, savant syndrome, PTSD, OCD, agoraphobia, depression, and various other potential maladies. The internet may be a great tool, but a reliable source of lay diagnoses of medical and psychiatric conditions it is not. Most of these self-diagnoses were never confirmed, at least not in the book, and it is not clear how many of the purported diagnoses are, in fact, diagnoses, as opposed to casual conversation with persons in the medical, psychiatric, or academic fields. Moreover, he was subjected to almost no testing for years after the incident, and so most of the purported diagnoses are presented as musings, not as declarative statements.
The real hole in the book, however, is this: there is nothing in it that supports the title. Nothing in it indicates genius or Padgett's status as a "mathematical marvel." He certainly gained a new interest in math, especially geometry, but almost nothing in the book demonstrates that he actually understands any mathematical concepts beyond how to create his drawings. There is one equation in the book, a needlessly complex (and, in practical terms, useless) method of calculating pi. The remainder of the "math" consists of Padgett's geometric "impressions" of various formulae, which he believes reflect a deep insight into the very nature of the universe. Speaking as a math major, I can state that none of Padgett's impressions or theories are more sophisticated than those presented in a trigonometry or precalculus class, if not earlier.
I do not doubt Padgett's suffering, the sincerity of his interest in mathematics, or that he has many daily struggles to overcome in light of his attack, and I do not mean to criticize him in any way. Rather, I simply want to warn readers that this book does not actually demonstrate that Padgett was "struck by genius" or became "a mathematical marvel." Instead, it is a very biographical book that demonstrates, at most, that Padgett's experience gave him synesthesia and an interest in subjects that he previously ignored, primarily math and physics. He was, apparently, a bright student in school who simply didn't apply himself to certain subjects. What the book demonstrates is merely that he developed an interest in some of those subjects after his injuries.
The writing itself requires a brief comment. This is not a well-written book. It rambles and delves into extended discussions of minutiae that do not add anything to the story. As I have said, it is mostly biography, including a huge amount of material related to his party-hard lifestyle before the attack. The substance of the book -- the impacts the attack has had on Padgett's mind -- might make for a interesting and short article, but no more. Instead, it is more than 200 pages long, rambling, full of commentary that often borders on outright narcissism, and devoid of content related to the main point: Padgett's purported new mathematical abilities.
I recommend taking a pass on this book; it simply does not deliver on its promises.
On a September night in 2002, Jason Padgett was brutally beaten outside a bar. He suffered a traumatic brain injury that literally turned him into a different person. Before the crime, he was a happy-go-lucky, 31-year-old bar-hopping player. Afterward, he became a "mathematical marvel," as the subtitle says, obsessed with the geometric fractal patterns he sees everywhere -- in a stream of running water, a line of trees, a ray of light glinting off a car hood.
The world becomes a fascinating place for Padgett. He obsessively draws precise pictures of what he sees and discovers their connection with math concepts he'd never known: sine and cosine, tangents, even particle fusion and relativity. Eventually, he is diagnosed as being the only known person in the world with having "acquired savant syndrome," an acute giftedness in a particular area (often math), and "acquired synesthesia," a condition in which one type of stimulation evokes the sensation of another; for example, seeing numbers as colors or shapes.
I was fully immersed in Padgett's story for a few chapters, but then I have to admit that it became repetitive. I can't imagine what he's seeing, no matter how many times he describes it. I don't see the point of the elaborate drawings he makes and can't make the math connection for myself. Not only that, but the more he reveals about his life, the sadder I became for him. Finding his place in the small community of people with his abilities assures him that he isn't mentally ill, and for that I'm glad. But although he is delighted with his new perceptions, they are accompanied by severe drawbacks: for years he is an agoraphobic hermit, venturing out only to grocery shop; he has obsessive compulsive disorder and practically bathes in antibacterial gel after touching someone; his sense of empathy is so keen he becomes physically ill when he hears the sad stories of others.
I also question some of the statements he makes. Can he really be the only person diagnosed with this acquired syndrome? The Department of Defense says that since 2000, close to 300,000 U.S. military members have sustained a TBI. Add to that the sports-acquired TBIs (and crime victims) and you have a cohort group of about 1.7 million sufferers a year. More importantly, I was put off by his statement that people with his heightened awareness alone are positioned to enjoy real spiritual insights. What a sad world it would be if only a few hundred people could lay claim to true spirituality.
I do commend Padgett's ghostwriter, Maureen Seaberg. She's done a terrific job of translating arcane mathematical concepts and fantastical visions into layman's terms. At times, though, I feel the scenes she and Padgett chose to depict showed only the upside of his injury. Padgett works at his family's futon store, and time and again he corners customers with convoluted math monologues, mostly about pi. Everyone is depicted as being enthralled. Honestly, if I were trapped by a salesperson with that agenda, I would escape at the first possible moment!
I would highly recommend two other books in this genre: the recent book, The Answer to the Riddle Is Me: A Memoir of Amnesia, a story of a man who suffered a psychotic break as the result of taking anti-malarial medication, and My Stroke of Insight: A Brain Scientist's Personal Journey, by a woman who suffered a stroke at a young age and discovers the joys of more fully engaging the intuitive, kinesthetic right side of the brain.
The world becomes a fascinating place for Padgett. He obsessively draws precise pictures of what he sees and discovers their connection with math concepts he'd never known: sine and cosine, tangents, even particle fusion and relativity. Eventually, he is diagnosed as being the only known person in the world with having "acquired savant syndrome," an acute giftedness in a particular area (often math), and "acquired synesthesia," a condition in which one type of stimulation evokes the sensation of another; for example, seeing numbers as colors or shapes.
I was fully immersed in Padgett's story for a few chapters, but then I have to admit that it became repetitive. I can't imagine what he's seeing, no matter how many times he describes it. I don't see the point of the elaborate drawings he makes and can't make the math connection for myself. Not only that, but the more he reveals about his life, the sadder I became for him. Finding his place in the small community of people with his abilities assures him that he isn't mentally ill, and for that I'm glad. But although he is delighted with his new perceptions, they are accompanied by severe drawbacks: for years he is an agoraphobic hermit, venturing out only to grocery shop; he has obsessive compulsive disorder and practically bathes in antibacterial gel after touching someone; his sense of empathy is so keen he becomes physically ill when he hears the sad stories of others.
I also question some of the statements he makes. Can he really be the only person diagnosed with this acquired syndrome? The Department of Defense says that since 2000, close to 300,000 U.S. military members have sustained a TBI. Add to that the sports-acquired TBIs (and crime victims) and you have a cohort group of about 1.7 million sufferers a year. More importantly, I was put off by his statement that people with his heightened awareness alone are positioned to enjoy real spiritual insights. What a sad world it would be if only a few hundred people could lay claim to true spirituality.
I do commend Padgett's ghostwriter, Maureen Seaberg. She's done a terrific job of translating arcane mathematical concepts and fantastical visions into layman's terms. At times, though, I feel the scenes she and Padgett chose to depict showed only the upside of his injury. Padgett works at his family's futon store, and time and again he corners customers with convoluted math monologues, mostly about pi. Everyone is depicted as being enthralled. Honestly, if I were trapped by a salesperson with that agenda, I would escape at the first possible moment!
I would highly recommend two other books in this genre: the recent book, The Answer to the Riddle Is Me: A Memoir of Amnesia, a story of a man who suffered a psychotic break as the result of taking anti-malarial medication, and My Stroke of Insight: A Brain Scientist's Personal Journey, by a woman who suffered a stroke at a young age and discovers the joys of more fully engaging the intuitive, kinesthetic right side of the brain.
3.0 out of 5 starsHe goes on at great length about his fascination with graphics and the concept ...
Bybig nickon July 9, 2014
The main problems with this book are its title and length. Nowhere did I find any evidence that the author became a “mathematical marvel” after suffering head trauma from a mugging. Much of the book is interesting and describes how his personality was completely transformed from party animal to serious student after brain trauma which resulted from the beating he sustained on his way home from a party. However, I saw no evidence of mathematical genius. He goes on at great length about his fascination with graphics and the concept of pi. He also inserts math buzz words and drops the names of prominent mathematicians in an apparent attempt to convince the reader that his injuries gave him new insights into mathematics. He is critical of calculus because it relies on approaching infinity to obtain approximate results, yet he relies on exhaustive graphics to do the same thing. His drawings which are displayed in the book are impressive but it doesn't take a “mathematical marvel” to draw graphic designs; it takes great patience, a compass, a straight edge and time.
Still, it was interesting to read how he turned his life around after suffering his self-diagnosis of PTSD and obsessive compulsive disorder after the beating. I just wish he hadn't devoted so many pages to details about his interactions with people or with his new interest in meditation after he was mugged. I had the feeling that there wasn't enough material for a book and his publisher told him to flesh it out.
This book could have benefited from some good editing or, better, it would have made a good magazine article. An even better alternative would be to condense it substantially and offer it to Oliver Sacks for a case history in his next book. If you can't speed read, you'll spend a lot of time on this book.
Bottom line: The book is really about a young man who changed from a party boy to a serious student after he suffered brain trauma from a mugging. Worth reading but not worth buying. Check your local library.
Still, it was interesting to read how he turned his life around after suffering his self-diagnosis of PTSD and obsessive compulsive disorder after the beating. I just wish he hadn't devoted so many pages to details about his interactions with people or with his new interest in meditation after he was mugged. I had the feeling that there wasn't enough material for a book and his publisher told him to flesh it out.
This book could have benefited from some good editing or, better, it would have made a good magazine article. An even better alternative would be to condense it substantially and offer it to Oliver Sacks for a case history in his next book. If you can't speed read, you'll spend a lot of time on this book.
Bottom line: The book is really about a young man who changed from a party boy to a serious student after he suffered brain trauma from a mugging. Worth reading but not worth buying. Check your local library.
When I read the book description (that the writer acquires Savant syndrome after a brutal attack), I expected to read he came out of a weeks-long coma a sudden math genius. Surprisingly, after he was hit on the head, he got up and went home, already manifesting his new math genius and synesthesia. The lesson of Mr. Padgett's story is remarkable: we may all have this genius-level understanding of (math, music, etc.) in our brains, but it's only "unlocked" for a small few. Mr. Padgett was a self-described mulleted party boy with little focus or direction. After a hit to the head after leaving a bar, he became a reclusive, obsessive-compulsive math genius, literally overnight.
While I was fascinated by Mr. Padgett's story, I struggled to finish the book. The writing is somewhat clinical. I found descriptions of his fascination with fractal geometry, numbers, and his newly-acquired synesthesia very compelling, but I was less interested in much of the rest. For example, his telling of his pre-assault life as a shallow, unfocused life-of-the-party-boy only takes one chapter, but it seemed to go on and on (and on...). I think I would have enjoyed his story more if the telling was more concise.
Put another way, this would have made a great chapter in an Oliver Sacks anthology.
While I was fascinated by Mr. Padgett's story, I struggled to finish the book. The writing is somewhat clinical. I found descriptions of his fascination with fractal geometry, numbers, and his newly-acquired synesthesia very compelling, but I was less interested in much of the rest. For example, his telling of his pre-assault life as a shallow, unfocused life-of-the-party-boy only takes one chapter, but it seemed to go on and on (and on...). I think I would have enjoyed his story more if the telling was more concise.
Put another way, this would have made a great chapter in an Oliver Sacks anthology.
Author Jason Padgett became a mathematical savant in his late twenties because of blows to his head. The blows were not severe enough to permanently damage him, instead the blows appear to have awakened a special gift that allows him to experience the world as a scientist. This memoir is filled with surprises as the reader walks along with Padgett as his gifts unfold for him to notice then find a way to use for the betterment of his life. Readers interested in the science behind the cognitive ability of human consciousness will enjoy this memoir. I am eager to read a similar book from him twenty years in the future. I want to know where he is in the year 2034, if he continues to learn at this trajectory he will be a very special person. He is a living version of Charlie in the book Flowers for Algernon. Wow!
After Jason Padgett suffered a brain injury as a result of his mugging, his personality changed from a frat-boy type to a shy, studious guy who suffered from OCD, agorphobia, and PTSD. The personality change is surprising, but the rest of that description is not. But what is most amazing is that he began to perceive mathematical patterns everywhere, and became obsessed with drawing visual representations of pi and prime numbers.
This story is quite well-written, in my opinion. With the help of a co-author, Jason uses his own narrative to also fill us in on a great deal of scientific research into synesthesia (associating numbers and letters with colors, among other things), TBI (traumatic brain injury), savant syndrome, and more. The way the science is folded into the narrative is quite expert, and the book is not only a personal memoir but also a primer on many topics in neurology, told in an approachable way.
What is most intriguing to me about the changes in Jason's brain is the question of whether his altered way of perceiving the world is giving us insight into the actual structure of the physical world, or only of the human brain itself. In other words, people with savant syndrome have unique and impressive skills, the ability to correctly calculate dates on the calendar in an instant, or to perceive the prime factors in a large number, or to compose complex music or draw detailed renderings of nature. But when Jason sees the matrix that underlies reality, is that because he has some unique insight, or because all human brains are attuned to the reality of the structure of the universe, or is it just a brain artifact? How is it different (or is it different?) from psychedelic-induced visions of colored music or writhing snakes?
I also somewhat wish that he had waited longer to write this book. Apparently at the time of writing it, he is still a student at a local community college. As a community college professor myself, I respect the hard-working students that attend community colleges. But is he a genius? He is fascinated by math, but how good is he at it? If he were attending MIT and sharing his insights with his professors, I would be ready to believe that he is a genius, with profound new insights. Yes, it's amazing that a head injury made him *better* at math than he was before--but is he, as the cover claims, a "mathematical marvel"? That part is not yet clear.
Quibbles aside, this book is well worth reading, it it will challenge your ideas about how our minds function, as well as give you great respect for this guy's courage in overcoming the downsides to his injury.
This story is quite well-written, in my opinion. With the help of a co-author, Jason uses his own narrative to also fill us in on a great deal of scientific research into synesthesia (associating numbers and letters with colors, among other things), TBI (traumatic brain injury), savant syndrome, and more. The way the science is folded into the narrative is quite expert, and the book is not only a personal memoir but also a primer on many topics in neurology, told in an approachable way.
What is most intriguing to me about the changes in Jason's brain is the question of whether his altered way of perceiving the world is giving us insight into the actual structure of the physical world, or only of the human brain itself. In other words, people with savant syndrome have unique and impressive skills, the ability to correctly calculate dates on the calendar in an instant, or to perceive the prime factors in a large number, or to compose complex music or draw detailed renderings of nature. But when Jason sees the matrix that underlies reality, is that because he has some unique insight, or because all human brains are attuned to the reality of the structure of the universe, or is it just a brain artifact? How is it different (or is it different?) from psychedelic-induced visions of colored music or writhing snakes?
I also somewhat wish that he had waited longer to write this book. Apparently at the time of writing it, he is still a student at a local community college. As a community college professor myself, I respect the hard-working students that attend community colleges. But is he a genius? He is fascinated by math, but how good is he at it? If he were attending MIT and sharing his insights with his professors, I would be ready to believe that he is a genius, with profound new insights. Yes, it's amazing that a head injury made him *better* at math than he was before--but is he, as the cover claims, a "mathematical marvel"? That part is not yet clear.
Quibbles aside, this book is well worth reading, it it will challenge your ideas about how our minds function, as well as give you great respect for this guy's courage in overcoming the downsides to his injury.
I had a hard time putting this fascinating book down! The primary author, Jason Padgett, reports on how his traumatic brain injury had some very unexpected consequences, and how he became the only person ever known to acquire both savant syndrome and synesthesia. After being brutally attacked and beaten one fateful night by a gang of thugs, Jason began seeing the world differently, and his senses began to blur together. Fractal patterns, geometric and crystalline shapes, hidden grids, and other mathematical designs began to reveal themselves in the world around him, in his visions, and in his artwork, as his ability to understand complex mathematics and physics increased exponentially. Most interestingly, Jason acquired these abilities from damage to his brain. Like Jason, I suspect that his acquired mathematical abilities, fractal visions, and synesthesia were really the release of dormant potential that lies within us all. I was reminded of Jill Bolte Taylor's *My Stroke of Insight*, Eben Alexander's *Proof of Heaven*, and the recent fMRI studies in England with the psychedelic drug psilocybin, all of which point to the notion that our dominant left hemisphere is often inhibiting the lesser-known abilities of the more submissive right hemisphere. It seems that brain injuries and psychedelics can sometimes help to release these often suppressed abilities. Jason's journey, and the unusual perspective that he has to offer us, is both instructive and inspirational. I highly recommend this extraordinary book to anyone interested in the untapped potential of the human mind.
This book tells the story of Jason Padgett, an ordinary guy who became a mathematical savant and synesthete after a traumatic brain injury. As a young man, Padgett worked the oil fields in Alaska. He liked going to bars, chasing women, and risk taking, but had no interest in academics whatsoever. His life changed dramatically when he was mugged while leaving a bar. After several slams to the head, the world suddenly looked different to Padgett, with visions of fractals and other mathematical phenomena falling into place everywhere he looked. Padgett suffered severe and permanent brain damage as a result of the attack. He developed Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) that caused him to withdraw from all social interactions for several years, and he also became quite obsessive-compulsive. It was his new-found fascination with math and physics that finally helped him reconnect with human society. On seeing Padgett's artistic mathematical sketches, a professor urged Padgett to enroll in college mathematical courses so that he could acquire the formal vocabulary to better describe and explain how he now saw the world. Padgett immediately enrolled in a local community college. As he learned more about the world of theoretical math and physics, he also engaged his fellow students and professors in learning about synesthesia, brain injuries, and PTSD. Padgett became connected to brain researchers and fellow synesthetes through online communities and began taking an active role as a subject in cognition research.
I found this book quite engaging as well as thought provoking. Padgett's mathematical theories, based on an intuitive vision of the mathematical underpinnings of the world are novel and fascinating. At the same time, his story of persevering through debilitating injury and pain is quite inspiring. This book would be of interest to mathematicians, as well as to people studying various brain topics, from savants, to synthesia, to brain injuries. At the same time, the text is quite accessible to general readers and does not require specialized background knowledge.
I found this book quite engaging as well as thought provoking. Padgett's mathematical theories, based on an intuitive vision of the mathematical underpinnings of the world are novel and fascinating. At the same time, his story of persevering through debilitating injury and pain is quite inspiring. This book would be of interest to mathematicians, as well as to people studying various brain topics, from savants, to synthesia, to brain injuries. At the same time, the text is quite accessible to general readers and does not require specialized background knowledge.
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