This 346-page book might be the longest I ever took to read and might be the longest to stay with me. In the words of Nobel laureate Hans Bethe “There are two types of genius. Ordinary geniuses do great things, but they leave you to believe that that you could do the same if only you worked hard enough. Then there are magicians, and you can have no idea how they do it. Feynman was a magician”
Every piece and portion of Feynman’s life comes off as a relatable story, but the magic lies at parts where Feynman exceeds your imaginary limitations and does pure magic and you are left wondering how is it possible for a common guy like Dick to do it, but yes, that’s the brilliance of Richard Feynman. You might flow through the pages and think yes he’s good or no he’s a bit of nuisance, but then he strikes you in your highest mental accord and you go back and reread portions of the story to find out what you missed about this genius.
This book cannot be called an autobiography, taped conversations with a friend of lectures delivered all over the world just changed in voice to match the need of the book, it maybe is better called a vividly painted self-portrait where all the fine lines and creases and bends are depicted accurately.
A physicist, musician, safecracker, dancer, practical joker, Feynman used to be a man of many talents, but his life might yet amaze you as to how a simple guy learnt to pick up girls at a bar to how he contributed to the atom bomb at Las Alamos and later how this genius was awarded the Nobel Prize which he thought as just an added headache. This book covers it all, giving all a reason to have a copy on their shelves.
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