Fans pick 100 books like The History of Mathematics

Frenkel came from the Soviet Union, where discrimination against Jews made it impossible for him to get into Moscow State University. During the oral exam they sent two graduate students to question him, pick holes in his responses, and ensure he failed. He turned to an informal network of Soviet mathematicians for help.

Like him, they were denied serious employment in the field, but after the 'cold war' against the Soviet Union, Harvard invited him to take a fellowship that later turned into a permanent job. Years later, when his old tormentor from Moscow State arrives to give a talk, he confronts the man in a lecture room with first-hand evidence of allegations against the system. Faced with a victim, the Russian mathematician's denials rang hollow. 

This book reaches beyond mathematics to anyone of independent thought in an environment where it is not permitted to step out of line or,… show more.

It provides an engaging description of the work that went into proving a famous result, first mentioned by the French mathematician Pierre de Fermat in the margin of a book.

The question was whether a sum of two nth powers of whole numbers could be the nth power of a whole number. It is certainly true for n = 2 but was not known for any n greater than 2. Fermat thought he had a proof that this was the case but later wrote proofs when n was 3 or 4, so his earlier claim was not taken seriously.

The general result turned out to be much harder than anyone imagined, and 350 years later, its truth was implied by another conjecture that was finally proved by Andrew Wiles, as this book explains. I admire the fact that the author distills some essential points from what turned out to be… show more.

This unique book presents stories about mathematics, such as The Young Archimedes by Aldous Huxley and Peter Learns Arithmetic by H. G. Wells. It and its sequel are a mine of fascinating short stories.

It's well worth keeping and rereading. I found both it and its sequel fun to read.

Hermann Weyl was one of the most influential mathematicians in the twentieth century. Born in North Germany, he worked for many years in Zürich and later moved to the Institute of Advanced Study in Princeton.

He was a colleague of Einstein in both places, and his book on Symmetry is a classic. This slim volume was a stimulus to me when I wrote my book.

This is a sequel to Alex Bellos's bestseller Alex's Adventures in Numberland, but more focused on applications of mathematics to the real world, especially through physics. Many of these were known to me, particularly when they involved calculus, but I greatly enjoyed Alex's distinctive and novel way of putting across sophisticated ideas, in part by interspersing them with personal interviews with mathematicians of all kinds.  

This may seem an odd choice, but as a maths popularizer I need to know all that I can about why some people find the main elements of the subject so difficult. I found Doug French's book exceptionally helpful in this respect, even though it is aimed principally at high school teachers. This is partly because he focuses throughout on the most important mathematical ideas and difficulties. Moreover, the scope is wider than the title suggests, for he also ventures imaginatively into both geometry and calculus.

This book has haunted me for years. For what is it, exactly, that gives it such enduring popularity? After all, it was first published in 1936, yet is still in print today. In his autobiography, Hogben remarks on the importance of eye-catching illustrations but speculates that its success may instead be because the book contains – most unusually for a 'popular' work – exercises and answers, making it more suitable for self-teaching. Whatever the real answer, his book must surely have something to teach anyone – like myself – who aspires to bring mainstream mathematics to life for the general public.

Visual representations are not the only pathway to creative acts in art and science, but they are responsible for large territories of creativity – including, and surprisingly, the mathematical. Arthur Miller shows how ‘seeing the unseen’ becomes possible from atoms to the conservation of energy in science, and from modernism to cubism in art. The book itself is as visually striking as its contents and helped me to think through why the visual metaphor – ‘Oh, I see!’ – becomes the standard description of the moment of insight.

Polya was a great mathematician who knew what counted (after all, he made major contributions to combinatorics, the mathematics of counting). He thought hard about what he was doing when working on problems in mathematics, developing a mental process that lead to creative breakthroughs and solutions. Polya’s problem-solving method is broadly applicable to domains other than mathematics, and this book features many nice puzzles to improve your thinking.

Algorithm design is challenging because it often requires flashes of sudden insight which seem to come out of the blue. But there is a way of thinking about problems that make such flashes more likely to happen. I try to teach this thought process in my books, but Polya got there first.

Have you ever been to a mathematics lecture where the speaker wore a tuxedo and baffled the audience with his mystifying knowledge of numbers? Well, I have and the speaker was Arthur Benjamin, who combined mathematics and magic. He even displayed this knowledge with Stephen Colbert on his earlier show The Colbert Report. It is our good fortune that he describes much of this mathematical wizardry in this fascinating book.