Nothing compares to primary sources when it comes to getting a sense of a person. Through the letters and notes of Richard Feynman to family, colleagues, and complete strangers, Michelle Feynman has given a rich trove of material from the man himself. Feynman's was a letter writer who kept everything. Here are his observations on the Nobel awards and his patient replies to the entreaties of ordinary people who make inquiry of him on a variety of issues. Here is his correspondence with government agencies as he tries to decide about attending a Russian sponsored symposium he has been invited to attend during the height of the "Cold War".

This compilation would be a must-read for anybody reading a biography of Feynman.

Know those movie reviews that say "I laughed, I cried" and make you think that the reviewer never bothered to even watch the film? Yeah? Well, I actually did read this book. In fact my husband and I both read the book. As I started it, the title was so LONG and different I asked him if he has ever taken this guy in college, and he said that he has some of his books. I'm going to ask to look at them. And it really did make me laugh. And it really did make me cry. And it really did teach me some physics and a few life lessons as well. The book covers about 50 years of Feynman's life from grad school through death via letters to and from him. It's a wonderful, compelling read and one that I'd recommend over and over and over again. It's all letters to him from him to someone else. That is becoming one of my favorite genres. Delightful language and again, me reading this. I loved it. Recommend!!!

A collection of letters by Richard Feynman, ranging from private things to his loved ones to tips and answers to fans and students from all over the world.

The part with his letters to his wife is extremely beautiful, and there is in particular one I'd like to share. Arline Feynman, the love of Richard's life, died of tuberculosis on the 11th of June 1945. Roughly one year and a half later Richard wrote a letter to her, and sealed it. It was opened after his death in 1988. Here it is:

October 17, 1946

D’Arline,

I adore you, sweetheart.

I know how much you like to hear that — but I don't only write it because you like it — I write it because it makes me warm all over inside to write it to you.

It is such a terribly long time since I last wrote to you — almost two years but I know you'll excuse me because you understand how I am, stubborn and realistic; and I thought there was no sense to writing.

But now I know my darling wife that it is right to do what I have delayed in doing, and that I have done so much in the past. I want to tell you I love you. I want to love you. I always will love you.

I find it hard to understand in my mind what it means to love you after you are dead — but I still want to comfort and take care of you — and I want you to love me and care for me. I want to have problems to discuss with you — I want to do little projects with you. I never thought until just now that we can do that. What should we do. We started to learn to make clothes together — or learn Chinese — or getting a movie projector. Can't I do something now? No. I am alone without you and you were the "idea-woman" and general instigator of all our wild adventures.

When you were sick you worried because you could not give me something that you wanted to and thought I needed. You needn’t have worried. Just as I told you then there was no real need because I loved you in so many ways so much. And now it is clearly even more true — you can give me nothing now yet I love you so that you stand in my way of loving anyone else — but I want you to stand there. You, dead, are so much better than anyone else alive.

I know you will assure me that I am foolish and that you want me to have full happiness and don't want to be in my way. I'll bet you are surprised that I don't even have a girlfriend (except you, sweetheart) after two years. But you can't help it, darling, nor can I — I don't understand it, for I have met many girls and very nice ones and I don't want to remain alone — but in two or three meetings they all seem ashes. You only are left to me. You are real.

My darling wife, I do adore you.

I love my wife. My wife is dead.

Rich.

PS Please excuse my not mailing this — but I don't know your new address.

Know those cheesy movie reviews that say "I laughed, I cried" and make you think that the reviewer never bothered to even watch the film? Yeah? Well, I actually did read this book. And it really did make me laugh. And it really did make me cry. And it really did teach me some physics and a few life lessons as well. The book covers about 50 years of Feynman's life from grad school through death via letters to and from him. It's a wonderful, compelling read and one that I'd recommend over and over and over again. And one that I know I'll eventually read over and over and over again.

In his past books I found Feynman's humor and character pleasant and funny, however, I couldn't enjoy this one.

Two important things:
1.) The book is not written by Richard
2.) It is a collection of Richard's mails curated and narrated by her daughter. You can read his correspondence with his mom, wives, colleagues, and strangers.

Nor the mails nor the narration were particularly interesting to me. In fact, I felt like a voyeour, or some tabloid reader. I did not find the aspects I liked in previous books.

Yeah, sometimes Feynman's a cocky jerk, but aren't we all? These letters are just so darn lovely and human. For as many (often justified) snotty replies he gives, there are just as many instances of unexpectedness tenderness and support for people in the same quest to figure things out.

About a comment he made in the early '60s about the minds of women, he received loads of letters calling him sexist, an idiot, etc. When, in the more enlightened times of 1987, he was asked permission to reprint this article, Feynman touched on the issue with wry humor:

"Dear Professor Jodl:

You have my permission to translate and publish the article in your journal. But the world has changed--and I made a remark about 'a girl instructing another one how to knit argyle socks.' Could you add a footnote, by the author (me) to that paragraph: 'How wonderfully the world has changed. Today conversations among women on analytic geometry are commonplace.'

Sincerely,
Richard P. Feynman"

Fascinating personal insights into what was a very well-lived life. These letters provide an intimate view into Feynman's life, which expose both his good sides and his bad ones (though I am obliged to say that there is an abundance of the former, and relatively few of the latter). His sense of honour and duty shines through the whole book.

It was ok. It's a collection of Feynman's letters, which means exactly what it says - his correspondence with various people across his life. I'm not sure what I was looking for, but my feelings were really encapsulated in one of Feynman's own interviews, transcript in the appendix. He said that there were three types of people who asked him questions about his work; those who wanted to know what was in it for them (the new big development, would it make their cars faster etc). Those who wanted to know what he was up to because they were really fascinated by nature itself, and wanted to know how the stars were made. He loved talking to them.

And a third kind, that wanted to know about him because they wanted to know more about him. Sort of a cult of personality. And he really didn't like those sort of people as much.

This book is targeted at those people, because that's the only group that it can really be a hit for. I'd have said I was in that category - I've loved others of his works and am reading books about him because it's him. But it really didn't hit for me, because it missed his love of nature, and the inspiration I get from looking at the world through his eyes.

Well, this is my second Feynman book and agian, this book doesn't deal with physics much, other than for providing a backdrop for Feynman's fascinating life. This book is completely made up of a bunch of correspondance between Feynman and others from the time he was a student until the time of his death. Getting an autobiographical portrait of Feynman strictly through letters is pretty interesting.

Richard Feynman had many admirable qualities. Among other things he was super brilliant and he loved learning, he was confident but humble, he really cared about teaching and inspiring people to learn and persevere, and he was very gracious and respectful to his harshest critics. He was also a pretty fun guy.

Este libro me lo recomendó un amigo que me dijo: “para este libro hacen falta muchos marcapáginas, para ir ponendo uno en cada página memorable”. El libro es soberbio. Es una recopilación de cientos de cartas que Feynman mandó y recibió durante su vida. Siendo como era un hombre ocupado, y más a partir de recibir el premio Nobel (que siempre describió como una lata (a pain in the neck), porque le quitaba tiempo para enseñar e investigar), sorprende el volumen de su correspondencia.

Su hija Michelle comenta por bloques las cartas, ordenadas cronológicamente y según las distintas fases de la vida de Feynman. Tal y como me recomendaron, llevaba marcapáginas de sobra. El consejo era de lo más acertado. En esta colección de cartas vemos a un hombre íntegro, divertido y sabio. Un tío dotado con una inteligencia poderosa y, sobre todo, con ganas de juerga (su inteligencia. Luego él la seguía). Decía que uno de sus deseos era olvidar cómo había resuelto algunos problemas para poder resolverlos otra vez de manera diferente.

Se casó joven con su novia del instituto, enferma de tuberculosis, con la oposición de sus padres. Ella murió al poco tiempo mientras él trabajaba en la bomba atómica en Los Álamos, Nuevo México. Durante este tiempo ella estaba ingresada en un hospital cerca de la base militar, y él la visitaba cada vez que podía, además de escribirse a diario. La mejor carta, sobrecogedora, es una que Feynman le escribió a Arline, su mujer, dos años después de que ella falleciera. Michelle anota en un comentario que el papel en que está escrita la carta aparece doblado y desgastado, como si se hubiera leído muchas veces:

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Arline:

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Te adoro, preciosa. Sé lo mucho que te gusta escucharlo. Pero no te lo digo sólo porque te guste. Te lo digo porque me hace sentir un calorcillo por dentro cuando lo hago.

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Hace muchísimo tiempo que no te escribo, casi dos años, pero sé que me perdonarás porque me conoces y sabes que soy tozudo y realista, y no le veía mucho sentido a escribirte.

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Pero ahora sé, amada esposa, que lo correcto es hacer lo que he venido retrasando tanto tiempo y que antes hacía tan a menudo. Quiero decirte que te quiero. Quiero quererte. Siempre te querré.

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Me es difícil comprender qué significa quererte cuando ya te has muerto, pero aún así quiero consolarte y cuidarte, y quiero que tú me consueles y me cuides a mí. Quiero tener problemas de los que hablar contigo. Quiero hacer pequeñas cosas contigo. Hasta ahora no me había dado cuenta de que podíamos hacer cosas juntos. ¿Qué podríamos hacer? Juntos empezamos a aprender a coser, aprendimos chino y nos compramos un proyector de películas. ¿Puedo hacer algo yo ahora? No. Tú eras la mujer de las ideas y la instigadora general de todas nuestras locuras.

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Cuando estabas enferma te preocupabas porque creías que no podías darme algo que querías darme y que pensabas que yo necesitaba. No tenías que preocuparte. Como yo te decía, te quiero tanto y de tantas maneras distintas que no me faltaba de nada. Y ahora es más cierto que nunca. No puedes darme nada y aún así te quiero tanto que sigues estando en el camino de mi enamoramiento hacia cualquier otra. Y quiero que siga siendo así. Tú, muerta, eres mejor que ninguna otra viva.

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Sé que me dirás que soy tonto y que lo que deseas es mi felicidad, y que no quieres interponerte en mi camino. Seguro que te sorprende saber que no tengo novia (salvo tú, cariño) dos años después. Pero tu no puedes hacer nada, querida, ni yo tampoco. No puedo entenderlo, porque he conocido a muchas chicas estupendas y no quiero quedarme solo, pero al cabo de dos o tres citas ellas se convierten en cenizas. Tú eres lo único que me queda. Tú eres real.

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Amada esposa, te adoro de verdad.

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Amo a mi mujer. Mi mujer está muerta.

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Rich.

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P.S.: Por favor, perdóname que no te envíe esta carta. No sé tu nueva dirección.

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Con el tiempo, Feynman volvería a casarse. Tuvo un segundo matrimonio breve y años después se casó con una inglesa, con quien tuvo a su hijo Carl (físico, como él, y con quien investigaría bastante en computación cuántica) y adoptó a su hija Michelle.

El meollo del libro empieza cuando a Feynman le dan el premio Nobel y se convierte en una figura pública. Ya lo era antes, pues solía aparecer en la tele en programas de divulgación. Entre los estudiantes de física, y especialmente los del Caltech, Feynman era una leyenda mucho antes de que le dieran el Nobel. Tiene un libro de texto, en tres tomos, “The Feynman Lectures in Physics” (Las conferencias de Física de Feynman), que todo físico ha leído o está a punto de leer.

Feynman recibe miles de cartas, y contesta muchas de ellas. Contesta incluso a los trolls que le acusan de salir en la tele para hacerse más famoso. Contesta a los niños que le preguntan cómo ser un gran científico. Contesta a los científicos que le preguntan cómo ser un gran científico. En todas sus respuestas se ve que Feynman no es físico por dinero, prestigio ni fama. Es físico porque se divierte. Feynman se metió en la comisión evaluadora de libros de texto de California, para dar su opinión sobre los libros de matemáticas y física de primaria. La transmisión del conocimiento fue una de sus principales prioridades. Rechazó una oferta el Instituto de Estudios Avanzados de Princeton (donde a la sazón estaba Einstein) porque allí no podía dar clase, no había alumnos, y él decía que si por algún casual perdía la inspiración, necesitaba dar clases para así, al menos, ser útil a la sociedad. Qué gran ejemplo de divulgador, estimados lectores. ¿Se acuerdan de la peli “Quiero ser como Beckham?”, Bueno, pues yo iría a ver diez veces “Quiero ser como Feynman” (Explain it like Feynman, en inglés, contrapuesto al Bend it like Beckham de la película original).

También hay cartas muy divertidas. Feynman tenía un viejo pique con los matemáticos desde sus tiempos de la universidad. Decía que “si pones un teormea matemático en palabras de la calle, queda algo ridículamente obvio”. Por ejemplo, tomemos el Teorema de Bolzano: Si f(x) es continua en un intervalo y cambia de signo en el interior del mismo, existe un punto c perteneciente al intervalo en el que f(x)=0. En palabras de la calle, esto queda “Si ahora es de día y luego es de noche, en algun momento ha anochecido”. O bien “Si ahora estás en la playa y luego estás buceando, en algún momento habrás cruzado la superficie del mar”. Era un cachondo, el Feynman. Un ex-alumno suyo le escribió cuando ganó el Nobel. Era decano de la facultad de matemáticas de una prestigiosa universidad y le escribía para felicitarle y darle las gracias por sus clases, que lo habían llevado hasta el cargo que ocupaba. Feynman respondió diciendo que “Veo que mis clases no sirvieron para nada, pues has acabado dirigiendo una facultad de matemáticas. Seguiremos intentándolo”.

Otra carta divertida es la que le mandó su editorial (Addison-Wesley) cuando ganó el Nobel. “Felicidades por el Nobel. Por fin en Suecia reconocen un buen libro de texto”. La respuesta de Feynman: “Muchísimas gracias. No tenía ni idea de la enorme influencia que teníais sobre el comité de los Nobel. Prometo no vover a subestimar el poder de una editorial. Gracias a todos los que habéis ideado y ejecutado esta fabulosa maniobra publicitaria”. Un crack, como les digo.

Una carta más, bastante reveladora. De Feynman a la comisión que otorga el premio Einstein, que le pedía su opinión sobre Hawking: “Creo sinceramente que el trabajo del Dr. Stephen Hawking le hace acreedor del premio Einstein”. (Se lo dieron).

Feynman murió de cáncer en 1988. Incluso al morir demostró genio y figura. Ingresado en el hospital, tuvo un fallo renal y entró en coma unos días, tras los cuales se despertó. Su mujer, su hermana y su cuñada estaban con él. Sus últimas palabras, antes de volver a sumirse en la negrura de la que ya no volvería, fueron:

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Odiaría tener que morirme dos veces. Es aburridísimo.

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This is the second Feynman book that I've read and I find myself becoming a bigger and bigger fan. Love the format of this as it chronologically goes through letter sent and received by Feynman himself. Each letter had something insightful that said something about the physicist, humorist, and family man that Feynman was. The letters to and from his first wife were very emotional and heartfelt. As things progressed there were wonderful letters regarding the atomic bomb, evaluating science textbooks, and his late work evaluating the Challenger disaster. It's a must read for any Feynman fan or anyone who enjoys the unique format of creating a chronological story with personal letters woven in.

I didn't know who he was
what he did
which religion he professed
but i heard the man talk
and i was fascinated ever since!
i still remember his old face creased with lines
speaking of which
surely came by his constant excited expressions!
He obviously loved what he did
and moreover LOVED sharing it!
His excitement was Contagious!