Think of the funniest thing that has ever happened in a math class because of math itself. Aha. You are beginning to see immediately how much work it takes to make math funny.
However, Josh Kornbluth tried and, at times, succeeded in blending math and humor. His monologue, "The Mathematics of Change," was full of moments that many in the audience found to be quite funny.
The production was marketed as a humorous look at life in an Ivy League school. The role of the Ivy League was cast as that of fund raising and creating alumni. The normal jokes about the President brown-nosing for dollars were told.
Kornbluth began with his formative years in mathematics -- grade school and the competitions between him and the class bully, teaching his teacher a trick called "casting out nines," and his father pushing him to be the greatest mathematician of all time.
Then there is the ominous prediction that he is going to "hit the wall." This is a math term for reaching the point where mathematics no longer makes any sense to you at all.
He finally hits the wall his first year at Princeton, taking calculus. None of it makes any sense to him and his attempts to reduce calculus to the fundamentals he learned from his father fail.
The change in the title refers to many things. It is clear that Kornbluth undergoes a great deal of change himself.
This is a function of his search for identity. When Kornbluth fails at mathematics, he finally comes to realize that math was not truly his goal. Instead it was his father's goal. His father failed at math and he wanted Josh to succeed in his place.
His father, his teachers, the Princeton dean all push him to a calling he ends up rejecting. College then becomes his search for identity.
A search that ends up with Kornbluth, who is afraid of water, atop a high diving platform. The dive, and his realization that he floats in water end the piece.
It is evident from his blackboard tricks during the show that the experience did not turn Kornbluth away from math. However, this did teach him something about goals.
Kornbluth has since gone on to appear in a few bit roles in movies and to write several monologues. The writing and performing of these pieces seems to be an ongoing attempt at discovering a full identity.
There are sections where Kornbluth's solitude at school and ultimate confusion with higher math showcase the pain he must still be struggling with.
His final observations about limits of functions as he plunges to the water illustrates one of his many attempts to explain math through real life examples.
The end result is that math becomes a product of the mind of man attempting to explain his world. Kornbluth has used math as the focus of his very public catharsis, explaining to us all the way it has changed his life.
Does this make good art? Is the personalization of every aspect of a piece something that makes us realize how we relate to one another? Or is it a selfish attempt at expression by the performer?
It ends up as a bit of both, and thus is not as involving or as riveting as something that reflects on society in general. It is illuminating in the respect that it offers us a glimpse into a very personal world. That kind of world is often jealously guarded in public.
Kornbluth opens himself up entirely by discussing his broken family and the push towards mathematics he first accepted and then rejected. But parts of this are flat, dull. Others are explained through cliche after cliche.
The whole does not end up transcending the brokenness of some of its parts. Because in the end we are left with a great deal of math, and all the tricks in the world will not make math particularly interesting.
