“The Crest of the Peacock” Reflections

 The Crest of the Peacock was truly an impressive, enjoyable read! While there were many striking points, I’ve discussed my top three below. 

The ‘Trajectory of Mathematics during the Dark Ages’ diagram was the most interesting (page 10). In our British Columbian education, we learn a lot about Europe’s Dark Ages; however, what we weren’t taught was that it coincided with the Golden Age of Arabia! It was surprising to see that Western Europe only had three arrows pointing at it, while Iraq, for comparison, had an impressive four arrows pointing to it and three arrows pointing outwards, really establishing itself as a central hub for mathematics at the time. Arabia’s dominant presence on the diagram demonstrated that Europe’s stagnance had little effect on the rest of the mathematical world, which shifted my euro-centric understanding of the development of mathematics, technology, and education. In fact, I do feel a bit guilty that my level of surprise was a result of many years of Western and European media immersion, but at this point my curiosity has been piqued enough that I intend to look more into the Golden Age of Arabia and the nearby civilizations. 

For today’s generation of students that question the personal relevance of mathematics, I think the perfect resource to direct them to is page 17. It opens the discussions for India’s role in the ongoing journey of mathematics. This geographical hotspot, situated between Mesopotamia, the Indus valley, and China, really had a bout of cultural and commercial contacts that encouraged the communication and growth of mathematics. I was left in awe, reading about India’s Pythagorean philosophy, and their advancements in geometry, trigonometry, and astronomical calculations, and how that impacted their culture and day-to-day lifestyles. Vedic mathematics had applications so deeply entrenched in spiritual practices, and while we apply much of it today, there are little-to-no mention of those applications in a Western-European education. At the same time, I was amazed by the dedication of the academic society, their thirst for seeking knowledge and wisdom, and their desire to question and respond to the universe. At this point in the reading, I was no longer surprised that this point in time resulted in some of the most beautiful, foundational mathematics. The educational journey of ‘adventurers of mathematics’ is absolutely fascinating; and it takes a moment to ‘un-imagine’ our typical math class setting in order to picture the historical exchanges of knowledge, their educational setting, and their experiences. 

When I thought I couldn’t be impressed any further, the final bits of the chapter had to mention Mayan Mathematics. It’s no wonder that Mayan Mathematics is seemingly impossible in today’s understanding, because they somehow managed to accurately calculate advanced astronomical measurements and come up with a base 20 number system, all without the use of tools, and while isolated from everyone else! I think of it a lot like how Newton and Leibniz developed the fundamentals of calculus around the same time, while they were both isolated from each other. Mayan mathematics truly is one of those miraculous, fateful mysteries. The sheer wondrous brilliance of it all just instills a deeper sense of appreciation for math that most students aren’t able to comprehend through our current curriculums, and the feeling I’m left with is  that of buzzing and inspired, but bittersweet. Inspired, because it exemplifies the true extents of the human intellect, without the accompaniment of technologies, and bittersweet, because that stage of knowledge is no more than a remnant of the past. 

In all my years of studying mathematics, this reading has to be one of my favourite resources.