The first volume of Norbert Wiener’s autobiography, Ex-Prodigy: My Childhood and Youth, is the 2nd autobiography I’ve read based on John Taylor Gatto’s recommendation to read hundreds of biographies to children at an early age. He believes biographies can instill within the young mind the connection between past, present, and future. That the future is being written with every passing moment. That as the author of one’s own life, the child can control their life’s arc through their actions in the present moment.
There are more obvious benefits as well. Such as seeing examples of:
My interest in reading these biographies for myself, before I (hopefully) have a child, is to essentially vet this educational recipe of Gatto’s. Further, the discussion, organization, and compilation of educational and child-rearing ‘recipes’, is one of my ambitious goals for Patterns in Leaves.
My early thoughts on the ‘Read Many Biographies’ recipe reinforces my gut reaction upon hearing Gatto speak of the technique; it is a common sense method for achieving a profound effect. My other impression is that I am actually enacting within myself the effect I wish the recipe to have on my future child. I think the reason Gatto’s words on the importance of understanding the mechanics of a life arc are resonating with me is because I know it is a lesson I have never learned.
Wiener’s story of how he grew into an academic career in mathematics have helped me begin to understand what it takes to be a professional mathematician and what the actual work looks like. I felt it shed more light on this subject than did obtaining an undergraduate degree in physics and a masters degree in applied mathematics. It is with regret that I realize grasping in the dark for an object of unknown shape and form was unnecessary; there are obvious maps to follow in the form of biographies. I had thought this information was only obtainable for those with a mentor; a relationship I never have understood how to create. I suspect that the mystery of the mentor birthing process itself may eventually be revealed by a biography.
This preamble to my thoughts on Wiener’s biography is longer than I intend for my future writings on books. But as my first post for Patterns on Leaves, it contains some of my unorganized thoughts on subjects that will be fleshed out in future content.
Wiener writes of his family’s changing financial circumstances and the changing cost of labor. Specifically, his family became more affluent as he grew up. His father went from doing odd jobs to being a Harvard professor. But despite the family’s growing affluence, their household went from always being able to afford two you women for help to being unable to afford any.
”The world was changing even during that period before the First World War when I was growing up. When I and my older sister had been young children, not event the relative poverty of the family had kept my mother form having the assistance of at least two servants, one of whom had been a cook and the other generally an excellent nursemaid. The changes of the century had already begun to dry up the stream of immigrant household labor, and wages had risen sharply. Not even our greater prosperity could make up for the new conditions and re-create a class of labor that had almost ceased to exit.”
I am curious of what evidence exists for Wiener’s observation. Was immigration decreasing? Were other industries like manufacturing pulling workers away from household labor? Do changing wages reflect this? I would like to explore census data and this topic in future post.
Wiener seemed to be entranced with Goettingen during his 1st visit there in 1914-1915. He speaks romantically of “traipsing across the town to Rohn’s cafe in a beautiful park at the top of a hill overlooking the town”. Unfortunately, traveling from Stuttgart to Goettingen is surprisingly expensive ($300 for two people round trip). One day I would like to find the park on the hill overlooking the town.