Archive for spy novels

the flawed genius of William Playfair [book review]

Posted in Books, pictures, Statistics, University life with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on March 26, 2024 by xi'an

David Bellhouse has written a new book on the history of statistics, focussing on William Playfair this time (following his fantastic book on Abraham de Moivre). The Flawed Genius of William Playfair (The Story of the Father of Statistical Graphics) got published a few months ago by the University of Toronto Press.

“[Playfair] was an ideas man whose ideas often did not come to fruition; or, when they did, they withered or exploded.” [p.121]

The impressions I retained from reading this detailed account of a perfect unknown (for me) are of a rather unpleasant, unappealing, unsuccessful, fame-seeking, inefficient, short-sighted, self-aggrandising,  bigoted, dishonest, man, running from debtors for most of his life, with jail episodes for bankruptcy, while trying to make a living from all sorts of doomed enterprises, short-lived blackmailing attempts, and mediocre books that did not sell to many. Similar to David Bellhouse’s colleague earlier wondering at the appeal of exposing such a rogue character, I am left with this lingering interrogation after finishing the book…

“[Richard] Price liked what Playfair had written. He found [in 1786] Playfair to be “agreeable” and “useful”.” [p.64]

Not that I did not enjoy reading it!, as it gives a most interesting of the era between the 18th and the 19th Centuries, in particular in its detailed narration of the first months of the French Revolution of 1789, and of the impact of the Industrial Revolution on economics and politics as the birth of capitalism. The book abounds in crossing lots of historical characters, like Richard Price (Bayes’s friend who published his most famous paper), Adam Smith (whose book Playfair reprinted with poor additions), Edward Gibbons (whose book along with Smith’s inspired the title of his Inquiry Into the Permanent Causes of the Decline and Fall of Powerful and Wealthy Nations), Thomas Malthus (competing for an annotated edition of Smith’s book), not to mention the political class of Britain at the time. David Bellhouse’s book demonstrates academic and historical excellence, constantly being very detailed, with a wealth of references, documents, and definite support for or against the rumours that accompany the life and deeds of Playfair. (Frankly, rarely a name has been that inappropriate!) This includes for instance the pictures pointing out to his first (?) forged signature [p.140] and the evacuation of the myth of Playfair as a spy for the British Crown—which the Wikipedia page happily reproduces, pointing out the need for an in-depth revision of said page. Similarly, the book delivered a convincing discussion of arguments for and mostly against Playfair “being the key player in the British operation to forge [French] assignats” towards destroying its economy. A lot of the book is touching upon the then novel issue of paper money, which Playfair only and negatively considered through his own (and catastrophic) experiences. At times, the book is almost too scholarly as it makes reading less fluid than was the case his Abraham de Moivre for instance. (And obviously less than in the contemporary Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrel!)

It may be that my very relative lack of enthusiasm stems from the realisation that the story of Playfair is overall rather little connected with statistical inference, if not with descriptive statistics (albeit with a complete disregard for the quality and sources of his data), as when  publishing a Statistical Breviary on descriptive statistics for a series of countries (and surprisingly sold on Amazon!).  Or Statistical Account of the United States of America. And of course for his innovative graphical representations like the one represented on the cover of the book or the pie chart. I feel that the book is much more engaged in Playfair’s contributions to the then nascent science of economics, as for instant about the shallow and mostly misguided views of his’ on banking and running the economy, while conducting his personal finance and investments so disastrously that it negatively advertised against confidence in such views.

On a very personal level, I noticed that some graphs were provided by my friend and statistics historian Stephen Stigler [who also wrote a review of the book] while an analysis of the poor French involved in a coding scam of Playfair about Napoléon’s escape from Elba was by Christian Genest (whom I first met at a statistics conference dinner on the Lac de Neufchâtel in 1986).

[Disclaimer about potential self-plagiarism: this post or an edited version will eventually appear in my Books Review section in CHANCE. As appropriate for a book about Chance!]

 

The Cairo Affair [book review]

Posted in Statistics with tags , , , , , , , , , , on January 28, 2017 by xi'an

After reading the Tourist trilogy, I decided to embark upon another spy novel by Steinhauer and took this book to India as another “emergency” book. Meaning as a way to escape delays and waits during our travel. While this is not a major change from the above trilogy, which I really liked, The Cairo Affair reads well and thus fits its purpose. Some of the appeal of the book is its immersion in very recent geopolitical events in Libya (far from over by now) and Egypt. (I presume there are a lot of other spy novels taking advantage of these major shifts, so this is not a major incentive for the book!) Another appeal is the connection with places I visited as a (real) tourist, from Budapest, to Croatia, to Cairo, even though I got a much more fragmented picture of the latter in the few days I spent there. While the underlying plot ends up being very thin (spoiler?!), I also liked the extreme ambiguity of the main character, whose motivations are never really revealed, possibly unknown even to herself. This major aspect of the novel makes for shortcomings on the realism plane. Worth a plane ride, definitely.

The Tourist & The Nearest Exit [book reviews]

Posted in Books, Travel with tags , , , , , , , on June 23, 2013 by xi'an

“They took a lengthy route, heading out to Boulevard Adolphe Pinard, which circled the city.” The Tourist

Andrew and Caroline brought me two books from Olen Steinhauer a few weeks ago. I had never heard of this author, but I started reading the first book, The Tourist, on my trip to Vietnam. It proved such a page-turner that I finished it within a day from my return and then I could not resist starting the second volume The Nearest Exit. Which I also finished in a few days. The theme of these books is a secret branch of the CIA focussed on assassinations and similar murky operations. Kind of classic, in the spirit of Le Carré, with a touch of Bourne identity, since the central character is investigating his own hierarchy most of the time. But darker too, and deeply pessimistic as well.

“Milo looked at facts to find the connection, if any, between them, and then built up his theories (…) For someone like Gray, Occam’s razor did not exist, for his logic was already corrupted by assumptions.” The Nearest Exit

Besides the overall cynicism of the novel (those special spies are called Tourists!), and its rather accurate rendering of European scenes (with a major geographic blunder about Boulevard Adolphe Pinard, reproduced in the quote above: Boulevard Adolphe Pinard is where my CREST office is located and it is in the South of Paris, not all around Paris and certainly not close to Angela’s appartment, in the 11th Arrondissment: the name of the entire inner Paris beltway is called Boulevards des Maréchaux, because all boulevard names correspond to marshals of Napoléon’s army; it does not include Pinard, who is one of the fathers of French obstetrics), the interesting side of the novel is more the delve into the psychology of the central character Milo and the rising inner questioning induced by his nefarious activities. Esp. after he became a family man (which sounds a tad implausible). Rather than in the action parts. In this respect, I prefered The Nearest Exit to The Tourist because it brought a very interesting perspective on the utlra-classic mole-in-the-service plot. Although I again found the central piece of the novel, i.e. having to [and refusing to] murder a 15-year-old Moldavian, a bit too much of a stretch in terms of plausibility. (Here is a fair review from the NYT.)

“Espionage rarely, if ever, provoked wild emotions from men [who] worked from behind desks, and to [whom], losses and gains were extended mathematical equations (…) No one could get so upset over math.” The Nearest Exit

Overall, I recommend highly enough those novels to consider buying the next and final volume, An American Spy, whenever I find it in an airport. Perfect travel books (except when you start looking for Tourists among your fellow passengers…)