What Secret Asian Girl is Reading Now: Life in Eighty Minutes

"There are lots of deficient numbers that are just one larger than the sum of their divisors, but there are no abundant numbers that are just one smaller than the sum of theirs. Or rather, no one has ever found one."

"Why is that?"

"The answer is written in God's notebook," said the Professor.

- exerpt from The Housekeeper and the Professor by Yoko Ogawa

What would it be like to only be able to remember your life 80 minutes at a time? Every 80 minutes, your memories would be erased and everything would start over. That's the premise of a sweet and substantial novel by Yoko Ogawa, The Housekeeper and the Professor. A young, single mother and her ten-year old son take on the daunting job of keeping house for a brilliant professor of mathematics whose mental abilities have been hampered (but not diminished) by a head-on car accident. Although he requires the aid of scraps of paper scribbled with notes like, "new housekeeper," and, "I can only remember 80 minutes at a time," pinned to his tattered coat to function, there is no forgetting the logic and comfort of his beloved mathematics.  Math provides order to the Professor's chaos and his near-superhuman abilities to clarify the most complex mathematical equations give testament to the tenacity of the human mind even when injured. The only character with a name is "Root," the housekeeper's ten-year old son, so nicknamed by the Professor because his head is flat and dipped down at the end, like a square root symbol.  "A symbol which is strong with infinite capabilities" is probably the highest compliment one can get from a math genius. Root triggers deep, grandfatherly feelings within the elderly teacher, and likewise Root learns how to make sense of his world through the teachings of the professor. Together they discuss math, baseball and life itself, in 80 minute increments. As the three become family, secrets are revealed, and even the housekeeper finds her mind wandering to mathematical equations to make sense of it all. As I read this story, I was amazed at how the professor could simplify the most difficult equations even for math-challenged people like me. Simpler, but still baffling. I think that's why some people like math so much. There's always an answer...one correct answer. But I prefer to lounge in the uncertainty of life's problems.  Simple solutions come from simple minds, I always say. Life is more complex than that. As the professor explains, some things are unproveable and the answer is only written in God's notebook, not meant for any human to know. Still, I wouldn't be against forgetting some things I've experienced in my life. God's notebook has perforated pages, right?