Beremiz Samir

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Beremiz Samir, nicknamed The Man Who Counted or The Man who Calculated, was a fictitious Persian mathematician of the 13th century, created by Brazilian writer Júlio César de Mello e Souza.

The life and teachings of Beremiz Samir are the subject of the book The Man Who Counted, written by his equally fictitious friend Malba Tahan. In spite of his humble origins, Beremiz was well-versed in all branches of geometry and mathematics, a prodigious calculator, an a genial problem-solver. To him, numbers and mathematical concepts were living beings. He claimed that there are happy and good-natured numbers, sad fractions, grumpy multiplications, and sleepy tables.

Throughout his life, Beremiz used his abilities with calculation like a magic wand to amaze and entertain people, settle disputes, find just and wise solutions to seemingly intractable problems — and, ultimately, to secure his own happiness.

Contents

[edit] Biography

[edit] Early years

According to Tahan's account, Beremiz was born in the small village of Khoy, about 40 km from Mount Ararat (today in Northwest Iran, about 20 km from the Turkish border). While still a young boy he started working as a shepherd for a rich landowner in the city of Khamat. It was there that he learned to count things at a glance — first his sheep, then the birds in the flocks that flew overhead, then ants and other insects, and even the bees in a bee swarm.

While still a young boy, he happened to save the life of an old and wise dervish called Noh-Elim, who had been caught in a sand storm. The old man responded by teaching young Beremiz many things that would later change the course of his life, including the geometry of Euclid.

[edit] Meeting with Malba Tahan

When he was about sixteen years old, his employer came to know of his abilities, and sent him to some far away oases to take care of his date plantations. Beremiz worked there for ten years, counting the fruits as they were still on the trees. Pleased with the profits accrued by the young manager, his employer then gave him a four-month vacation; which Beremiz decided to spend on a trip to Baghdad, by foot — to visit some relatives and see the town's fabled wonders.

At one point along the road, while he was taking a short rest from his arduous journey, he attracted the attention of Malba Tahan, a well-to-do citizen of Baghdad who was returning home from a trip to Samarra. Malba was much intrigued by this young man, who every now and then would come out of his deep thoughts, stand up, shout some large number — Two million, three hundred and twenty-one thousand, eight hundred and sixty six! — and then sit down and resume his meditation. After hearing Beremiz's story, Malba proposed to the lad that they travel together to Baghdad, where he could use his connections to find a suitable employment for his mathematical abilities.

Malba recounts in great detail the various incidents that befell the two men along the road and in Baghdad.

[edit] Beremiz's toughest problem

Keep in mind, while this is a spoiler, the book is not focused on the story, but on each tale. The story is just a background.

Shortly after their arrival in Baghdad, Beremiz was visited by a prominent member of the Caliph's Court, who offered to hire the Man Who Could Count as a tutor to his 17 year old daughter, Telassim. The harried father told Beremiz that an astrologer once predicted terrible things would happen to the girl after her 18th birthday — unless she could by that time master the art of Al-Khowarizmi.

The task, which other sages had scornfully turned down — It is easier for a whale to go to Mecca than for a woman to learn mathematics! — was gladly accepted by Beremiz, who promptly began his lessons. But the heavy screen that the prudent father had set up by to separate Telassim from his tutor proved to be no real obstacle — neither to the learning of mathematics, nor to the flourishing of a seemingly impossible love.

Nevertheless, after many dealings and many mathematical puzzles and curiosities, Beremiz had the occasion to solve a particularly baffling problem at the Caliph's Court. Impressed by the man's wisdom, the Caliph asked him to pick his reward — whether that be twenty thousand dinars in gold, or a palace in Baghdad, or a post of governor of one of his provinces. But Beremiz already had his choice ready. After some hesitation, the Caliph and Telassim's father agreed to their marriage, provided that Beremiz would solve one last mathematical problem, the hardest of them all — which he of course did with his usual genius.

Telassim was a Christian, and, after their marriage, the couple decided to move to Constantinople; and their mutual friend Malba Tahan agreed to accompany them. The move proved to be their fortune, since three years later, in 1258, Baghdad was conquered and utterly destroyed by the Mongols.

In Constantinople, for the love of his wife, Beremiz too converted to Christianity (demanding however to be baptized by a bishop who knew Euclidean geometry). Beremiz and Telassim had three children, and lived the rest of their lives happily together in Constantinople.

As aptly observed by Malba Tahan: "Of all the problems that Beremiz ever tackled, the one he solved best was that of Life and Love."