A Beautiful Mind Part 8

Carlos Larde got his medical training in El Salvador but spent several years studying abroad, in America and France, among other places.10 His early career had been full of promise: He held a number of public posts, including that of head of El Salvador's Red Cross and, before World War II, was chairman of a League of Nations committee. Once he served as El Salvador's consul in San Francisco. His second wife, Alicia Lopez Harrison, came from a wealthy, socially prominent family; Alicia's maternal grandmother was the wife of an English diplomat. Mrs. Larde was not only beautiful but also warm, a wonderful cook, a charming hostess, and a popular aunt with her nieces and nephews. His early career had been full of promise: He held a number of public posts, including that of head of El Salvador's Red Cross and, before World War II, was chairman of a League of Nations committee. Once he served as El Salvador's consul in San Francisco. His second wife, Alicia Lopez Harrison, came from a wealthy, socially prominent family; Alicia's maternal grandmother was the wife of an English diplomat. Mrs. Larde was not only beautiful but also warm, a wonderful cook, a charming hostess, and a popular aunt with her nieces and nephews.11 Alicia, or Lichi, as her family called her, was born on New Year's Day, 1933, in San Salvador. She was the second of Carlos and Alicia's children. Her brother Rolando, five years older, was eventually confined to an inst.i.tution. A half-brother from her father's first marriage lived with them as well. Treated as an only child by her doting older parents, Lichi was by all accounts a lovely child, with blonde ringlets. She grew up, amidst aunts, uncles, cousins, and servants, in a lovely villa near the center of the capital.

The idyll ended abruptly a year before the end of World War II, when Alicia was eleven. In 1944, in.the midst of a yearlong popular insurrection against dictator Hernandez Martinez,12 Alicia's uncle Enrique had suddenly left for Atlanta with his wife and five young children one night, in the middle of bomb blasts, in a station wagon draped with a white sheet to signal their civilian status. Carlos Larde Alicia's uncle Enrique had suddenly left for Atlanta with his wife and five young children one night, in the middle of bomb blasts, in a station wagon draped with a white sheet to signal their civilian status. Carlos Larde followed him not long afterward, leaving his wife, daughter, and two sons behind temporarily. He joined his brother in Atlanta, but then moved on to Biloxi, Mississippi, on the Gulf of Mexico, where he obtained a position as a staff doctor at a veterans' hospital. Some weeks later, Mrs. Larde and Alicia joined him, after making the long journey by train through Mexico and stopping in Atlanta to visit Enrique and his family. followed him not long afterward, leaving his wife, daughter, and two sons behind temporarily. He joined his brother in Atlanta, but then moved on to Biloxi, Mississippi, on the Gulf of Mexico, where he obtained a position as a staff doctor at a veterans' hospital. Some weeks later, Mrs. Larde and Alicia joined him, after making the long journey by train through Mexico and stopping in Atlanta to visit Enrique and his family.13 What motivated Carlos Larde to follow his brother to the United States at age forty-six isn't entirely clear. Possibly he feared the outbreak of a full-scale civil war. Possibly he saw a chance to revive his medical career, having apparently suffered a series of professional setbacks. But very likely a major reason for emigrating - and the one given Alicia by her parents - was his health. Carlos Larde was suffering from a number of increasingly debilitating physical ailments, among them a severe stomach ulcer, and working as a doctor in the United States would give him access to top-notch medical care. Whatever the reason, the move turned out to be permanent. Enrique went back to El Salvador after a few years, but Carlos Larde was to remain in this country until his death in 1962. Alicia Lopez-Harrison de Larde stayed for another decade after her husband's death.

Hot, dank, slightly seedy, Biloxi lay sprawled on that shallow, murky stretch of the gulf between Mobile and New Orleans, among its barrier islands and river mouths.14 It was known for shrimp fis.h.i.+ng, illegal gambling, and being a favorite wintering place for Chicago mobsters. Rationing made day-to-day life difficult. Carlos was often exhausted and ill and Alicia's mother was plainly distressed by their new surroundings and terribly homesick. Later, the mother of a friend of Alicia's would describe Mrs. Larde as a "very sad, very stoical person." Alicia learned English quickly and easily but suffered pangs of dislocation and isolation on top of the ordinary anxieties of early adolescence. It was not a happy time. For consolation, she turned to schoolwork and the movies. It was known for shrimp fis.h.i.+ng, illegal gambling, and being a favorite wintering place for Chicago mobsters. Rationing made day-to-day life difficult. Carlos was often exhausted and ill and Alicia's mother was plainly distressed by their new surroundings and terribly homesick. Later, the mother of a friend of Alicia's would describe Mrs. Larde as a "very sad, very stoical person." Alicia learned English quickly and easily but suffered pangs of dislocation and isolation on top of the ordinary anxieties of early adolescence. It was not a happy time. For consolation, she turned to schoolwork and the movies.

The Lardes did not stay in Biloxi for long. Less than a year after the war ended, they followed Enrique's family to New York, where Enrique took a job as an interpreter at the United Nations. Once again, Alicia and her mother lived with Enrique's family until Carlos found a position at the Pollak Hospital for Chest Diseases in Jersey City and a house for them to live in. Alicia commuted to Prospect High School, a Catholic school in Brooklyn.

Alicia wasn't to stay trapped in the lower-middle-cla.s.s environs of Prospect High for long. At the beginning of her soph.o.m.ore year, the Lardes enrolled her at the Marymount School, an exclusive Catholic girls' school in New York.

Marymount, which was operated by one of the oldest European orders, the Sisters of the Sacred Heart, occupied three adjacent Beaux Arts mansions, on the southeast corner of Eighty-fourth Street and Fifth Avenue, directly across from the Metropolitan Museum of Art and Central Park. It was another world. The student body, mostly day pupils from the surrounding Upper East Side, were from New York's Catholic elite.15 Many of the girls were daughters of celebrities like Joe DiMaggio, Many of the girls were daughters of celebrities like Joe DiMaggio, Jackie Gleason, Paul Whiteman, and Pablo Casals. Alicia's best friends there included the daughter of an Italian count. Tuition was several times what most private universities charged at the time, easily equivalent, once inflation is taken into account, to $15,000 today. Admission was based strictly on families' social standing; the El Salvadoran amba.s.sador wrote Alicia's letter of reference, attesting to the Larde family's social position. Jackie Gleason, Paul Whiteman, and Pablo Casals. Alicia's best friends there included the daughter of an Italian count. Tuition was several times what most private universities charged at the time, easily equivalent, once inflation is taken into account, to $15,000 today. Admission was based strictly on families' social standing; the El Salvadoran amba.s.sador wrote Alicia's letter of reference, attesting to the Larde family's social position.16 The school's atmosphere, appropriately to girls being groomed to become "wives of Catholic leaders," was cosmopolitan and cultured.17 The girls' uniforms included stylish blazers and black high heels. Parents insisted that the school "keep up the social end of things." Alicia took riding and tennis lessons in Central Park, played basketball, helped out on plays and musicals, and went to parties. She went to her senior prom, and afterward to the Stork Club, with her friend Chicky Gallagher's brother. The girls' uniforms included stylish blazers and black high heels. Parents insisted that the school "keep up the social end of things." Alicia took riding and tennis lessons in Central Park, played basketball, helped out on plays and musicals, and went to parties. She went to her senior prom, and afterward to the Stork Club, with her friend Chicky Gallagher's brother.18 She looked, on graduation day, just like the other girls, only more beautiful, wrapped in the same white tulle and cradling the same three dozen long-stemmed roses, like a debutante before a coming-out ball. Much, however, separated Alicia from her wealthy schoolmates. Outwardly she was gay, charming, unruffled, and compliant, but her appearance veiled a keen intelligence, an outsider's ambition, and what a future friend called steely determination. Self-controlled and reluctant to confide her real feelings to anyone, a legacy of her Latin upbringing, she hid a great deal from view. As a woman who got to know Alicia several years later said, "You have to keep the times in mind. Women dissembled then. Alicia behaved like a fifties ditz, but that doesn't mean she was one. She was flirtatious but she was saying quite serious things. She always had some agenda, some goal."19 As a child, she'd dreamed of becoming a modern-day Marie Curie.20 Alicia was twelve years old when she huddled with her father near the radio in their Biloxi apartment and listened with him to the broadcast about Hiros.h.i.+ma. Alicia was twelve years old when she huddled with her father near the radio in their Biloxi apartment and listened with him to the broadcast about Hiros.h.i.+ma.21 It was for her, as for so many scientifically inclined youngsters, a defining moment. Within weeks, the j.a.panese surrender and the War Department's revelation of the three hidden "atomic" cities in the southwestern desert turned anonymous men like Oppenheimer and Teller into public heroes. Instantly, the image of the "nuclear physicist" seized the popular imagination the same way that "rocket scientist" did after It was for her, as for so many scientifically inclined youngsters, a defining moment. Within weeks, the j.a.panese surrender and the War Department's revelation of the three hidden "atomic" cities in the southwestern desert turned anonymous men like Oppenheimer and Teller into public heroes. Instantly, the image of the "nuclear physicist" seized the popular imagination the same way that "rocket scientist" did after Sputnik. Sputnik. Alicia, already showing signs of her father's talent and interest in scientific subjects, knew what she wanted to be. "The world was physics. It was what kids with a talent for, and interest in, math and science aspired to," a fellow physics major at MIT said in 1997. "To Carlos Larde it was the top, and it was for Alicia too." Alicia, already showing signs of her father's talent and interest in scientific subjects, knew what she wanted to be. "The world was physics. It was what kids with a talent for, and interest in, math and science aspired to," a fellow physics major at MIT said in 1997. "To Carlos Larde it was the top, and it was for Alicia too."22 Her apt.i.tude for mathematics and science had long been evident and became more so at Marymount. By the late 1940s, the school was already something more than a fancy finis.h.i.+ng school. It had always had an exceptionally well-trained faculty, lay and religious, but during Alicia's tenure the school was run by a forceful young Irish graduate of the London School of Economics - Sister Raymond - who was not only an ardent Keynesian, but a gifted educator determined to raise the educational standards of the place. Sister Raymond improved the caliber of students by introducing scholars.h.i.+ps and gave more intellectual heft to the school's curriculum by adding serious science and mathematics courses. Alicia had a choice between a cla.s.sical education emphasizing the arts and languages and one focusing on science and mathematics. She was one of the few girls who chose the latter and, as a consequence, took biology, chemistry, and physics as well as three years' worth of mathematics, often in tiny cla.s.ses of two or three girls. Sister Raymond recalled her as a gifted and willing student: "Very intelligent. Not too pushy. Very very interested in her studies." by introducing scholars.h.i.+ps and gave more intellectual heft to the school's curriculum by adding serious science and mathematics courses. Alicia had a choice between a cla.s.sical education emphasizing the arts and languages and one focusing on science and mathematics. She was one of the few girls who chose the latter and, as a consequence, took biology, chemistry, and physics as well as three years' worth of mathematics, often in tiny cla.s.ses of two or three girls. Sister Raymond recalled her as a gifted and willing student: "Very intelligent. Not too pushy. Very very interested in her studies."23 By her senior year, Alicia was quite definite about wanting to pursue a career in science. "I wanted a career, so I wanted to study something definite," she said.24 Carlos Larde, who was delighted by his daughter's ambitions, wrote an eloquent and touching letter to Sister Raymond urging her to make every effort to help Alicia realize her dream of becoming a nuclear scientist by helping her gain admission to a first-rate technical university. Carlos Larde, who was delighted by his daughter's ambitions, wrote an eloquent and touching letter to Sister Raymond urging her to make every effort to help Alicia realize her dream of becoming a nuclear scientist by helping her gain admission to a first-rate technical university.25 Alicia was accepted at MIT, one of only seventeen women and two female physics majors in the cla.s.s of 1955. Alicia was accepted at MIT, one of only seventeen women and two female physics majors in the cla.s.s of 1955.26 The Lardes were no less thrilled than Alicia. Carlos Larde, who had studied at the University of Chicago and Johns Hopkins, particularly appreciated what an MIT degree would mean, but he drew the line at her going off to a virtually all-male engineering school on her own. Alicia's mother, it was decided, would accompany Alicia in order to watch over and take care of her.27 Besides the natural protectiveness toward a precious daughter, the arrangement may have reflected a wish on the part of Alicia Lopez-Harrison de Larde to escape her ailing, difficult husband. Alicia's friends at MIT were struck, later, by the fact that mother and daughter never referred to Carlos Larde and that he never came to visit. Besides the natural protectiveness toward a precious daughter, the arrangement may have reflected a wish on the part of Alicia Lopez-Harrison de Larde to escape her ailing, difficult husband. Alicia's friends at MIT were struck, later, by the fact that mother and daughter never referred to Carlos Larde and that he never came to visit.28 In any event, in the late summer of 1951, the two women rented a tiny furnished apartment in Boston In any event, in the late summer of 1951, the two women rented a tiny furnished apartment in Boston29 not far from Beacon Street where John Nash had just found a room, across the river from MIT and not far from the Harvard Bridge. not far from Beacon Street where John Nash had just found a room, across the river from MIT and not far from the Harvard Bridge.

It was marvelous being an MIT coed in the early 1950s, an era famous for its celebration of mothers and dumb blondes, because the coeds were so special and had, as it were, the best of both worlds: it was serious, but there were lots of men. There were girls who wore c.o.c.ktail dresses and high heels while dissecting rats in the lab.30 A date wasn't going dancing and sipping Manhattans, it was going to a lecture and out to coffee afterward, or maybe having a boy take you to his parents' house and showing you, through a telescope, everything Galileo had seen. A date wasn't going dancing and sipping Manhattans, it was going to a lecture and out to coffee afterward, or maybe having a boy take you to his parents' house and showing you, through a telescope, everything Galileo had seen.

Alicia was to tell her girlfriends that being there made her feel like a "Queen Bee." It was also a chance to meet, finally, other women who didn't think that having brains and ambitions was a major liability. "We were a self-selected group of fairly strong women," said Joyce Davis, a native New Yorker and the only other female physics major in the cla.s.s of 1955. "We had our own culture. It wasn't normal American female culture, the 'you can't be as good as the boys' culture, which we were always trying to escape. And it wasn't the MIT boys' culture either." normal American female culture, the 'you can't be as good as the boys' culture, which we were always trying to escape. And it wasn't the MIT boys' culture either."31 Alicia spent most of her time with the other coeds either at the dorm or on the campus. She studied with the other girls in the Cheney room, the coed lounge, ate breakfast and lunch with her friends at Pritchett lounge every day, and generally was up for whatever the girls felt like doing, whether it was playing basketball or organizing a charity fair.32 She attended a great many concerts and plays, thanks to the coeds' wealthy patroness, a Mrs. McCormick, who showered them with tickets and even paid for them to take taxis across the Harvard Bridge in winter. She attended a great many concerts and plays, thanks to the coeds' wealthy patroness, a Mrs. McCormick, who showered them with tickets and even paid for them to take taxis across the Harvard Bridge in winter.

MIT's academic program was brutally demanding, especially for physics majors. Cla.s.s schedules were heavy, spread over six days, and consisted mostly of required courses. All the girls lived in healthy fear of flunking out. Alicia, who had sailed through her science and math courses at Marymount on native ability, found that this was no longer enough. Much to her dismay, she had to struggle to maintain a C average (which was a respectable performance in those days before grade inflation turned a C into a subaverage mark). "You either had to buckle down or accept just getting by," said Joyce, Alicia's best friend. "Alicia never really buckled down."33 Alicia's ambition survived her freshman year intact, despite a fair amount of teasing, especially in her chemistry cla.s.s, from boys and instructors who were sure that she would not make the cut. In a letter to Joyce, in the summer of 1952, Alicia wrote: Dear Joyce, By this time you must be wondering whether I'm dead, dying or have mearly [sic] been kidnaped judging from the amount of communication you have received from me; the sad truth of course is my laziness. Except for one week that I went to Canada with Betty Sabin and her parents I have spent the Summer working as a sales girl in a small store (I hate to say 5 + 10) behind the ribbon counter; I have done all but strangled the customers with "our" fine products. But life hasn't been all tears (I hate to think of my report card) we have fortunately moved to a new apartment half a block away from Kenmore Square. And so I will be able to walk home with you (the dorm is only about a block and away).

By now you must be beginning to believe the malicious rumors that I bribe my English teachers; not to mention the grammar and the spelling is atrocious (get me!). My report card was the same as last term with the unhappy exception of a B in English; my c.u.m. is still above 3 though; .02 above that is. I'm unhappy that we won't be in the same section this year but c'est la vie! I wanted to take French instead of German in order to make my life easier but I'm not sure I can because of my hope for a Ph.D. in physics ... remember all I was going to study this summer? Well, I've gotten to I was going to study this summer? Well, I've gotten to page 17 page 17 of the Physics book and that's all; I am however many movies wiser. of the Physics book and that's all; I am however many movies wiser.

Give my regards to your mother and answer soon (do as I say not as I do).34

A profile, a look, a voice can capture a heart in no time at all. Alicia gave away hers in the s.p.a.ce of a single calculus lecture. She was sitting, her best friend Joyce beside her, in the front row of M351, Advanced Calculus for Engineers, a course required of all physics majors. John Nash arrived late wearing a haughty and bored expression. Without so much as a glance or a word to the a.s.sembled, he closed all the windows, flipped open his copy of Hildebrand, and embarked on a lackl.u.s.ter exposition of the properties of ordinary differential equations.

It was mid-September, Indian summer weather, and as Nash droned on, the room got quite hot. First one, then several students interrupted Nash to complain and to ask that he let them open the windows. Nash, who had obviously shut the windows to prevent any outside noise distracting anyone, ignored them. "He was so wrapped up in himself that he wouldn't pay attention to what we wanted. His att.i.tude plainly said, 'Shut up and take notes,' " Joyce recalled.35 At that point, Alicia jumped up from her seat, ran over to the windows in her high heels, and opened them one after another, each time with a toss of her head. On her way back to her seat, she looked straight at Nash, as if daring him to reverse her action. He did not. At that point, Alicia jumped up from her seat, ran over to the windows in her high heels, and opened them one after another, each time with a toss of her head. On her way back to her seat, she looked straight at Nash, as if daring him to reverse her action. He did not.

Joyce thought Nash an indifferent lecturer and insensitive besides. "He presented the material but that was it. He was sort of cold." Joyce transferred out of the section after the first cla.s.s, but Alicia surprised her by staying. "She thought he looked like Rock Hudson," said Joyce.

To see Nash through Alicia's eyes during their first encounters as student and professor conveys much about the elementary force that was to bind her to him. In MIT's intellectual hierarchy - where "mathematics was the highest thing," as Joyce was to say - Nash was the closest thing to royalty.36 It was his good looks, however, that made Alicia's heart beat faster. "A genius with a p.e.n.i.s. Isn't that what we all want?" an actress once quipped, and the quip captures the combination of brains, status, and s.e.x appeal that made Nash so irresistible. Herta Newman, Donald's wife, said the same thing in less bald terms: "He was going to be famous. He was also cute." It was his good looks, however, that made Alicia's heart beat faster. "A genius with a p.e.n.i.s. Isn't that what we all want?" an actress once quipped, and the quip captures the combination of brains, status, and s.e.x appeal that made Nash so irresistible. Herta Newman, Donald's wife, said the same thing in less bald terms: "He was going to be famous. He was also cute."37 Emma Duchane, a physics major two years behind Alicia at MIT, said, "Alicia thought he was gorgeous. She thought he had beautiful legs." Emma Duchane, a physics major two years behind Alicia at MIT, said, "Alicia thought he was gorgeous. She thought he had beautiful legs."38 Nash wasn't scruffy like many of the mathematicians. He was always neatly combed, pressed, and s.h.i.+ned. His haughty manner and cool indifference only confirmed his desirability. His name, two monosyllables that advertised his Anglo-Saxon ancestry, added to his appeal. "He was very, very good-looking," Alicia later said. "Very intelligent. It was a little bit of a hero wors.h.i.+p thing." Nash wasn't scruffy like many of the mathematicians. He was always neatly combed, pressed, and s.h.i.+ned. His haughty manner and cool indifference only confirmed his desirability. His name, two monosyllables that advertised his Anglo-Saxon ancestry, added to his appeal. "He was very, very good-looking," Alicia later said. "Very intelligent. It was a little bit of a hero wors.h.i.+p thing."39 Nash took no notice of her, but Alicia was quite prepared to woo him. All that year, she would seek him out. "Come with me to the music library, Joyce," or, "Come with me to Walker Memorial. I want to see Nash."40 "She set her cap for him," Joyce recalled. "She had a campaign going." "She set her cap for him," Joyce recalled. "She had a campaign going."

Her grades suffered. She got two Ds and for the first time in her MIT career her grade point average slipped below a C. The following April, Joyce wrote to her parents: "Alicia is still not doing to [sic] well since she is in LOVE. She goes around with a faraway expression on her face."41 When the calculus course was over, Alicia got a job in Nash's favorite haunt, the music library. It is a measure of her lovesickness that she found it a far more interesting place to work than Lincoln Laboratories, where she also had a job. "Work here isn't very stimulating; what I do mostly is count 'tracks' seen thru a microscope," she wrote to Joyce during the summer. "I only work 15 hrs a week here but what tires me out is the overtime; I keep seeing the little monsters every time I close my eyes. Music library proves more interesting, so far several strange boys have tried to pick me up. Music library proves more interesting, so far several strange boys have tried to pick me up."42 Alicia was still playing the field, but with less enthusiasm than her letter to Joyce implied: "A few more weeks now and I expect to be seeing 'blondie' again. It seems peculiar but I feel so indifferent about him now."

She continued this letter a few weeks later: I am writing in the music library now (obviously). Something funny {?} happened to me here the other day. A boy I know came to talk to me while one of the ones I am out "gunning" for was sitting out there; or so I thought. In order to seem attractive to the one out there I began pouring on the "charm" on my little friend; then in my loudest possible voice I announced my working hours in the ML; they must have heard me over the radio. Well, the persecuted one seemed to be getting the idea while I became bolder and bolder. Finally he came over. Then, boy, was I mortified. The moral of the story is "wear gla.s.ses." Needless to say he wasn't the "one."

Nash, of course, was at RAND most of that summer.

When Nash started coming around the library again that fall, Alicia engaged him in conversation and studied him as minutely as any fan studies his or her favorite star. She found out that he played chess. She found out that he was a science fiction fan. She made it her business to learn chess and, in addition to her job in the library, she took to sitting in the science library near the science fiction collection. "My activities besides the music library include the science library where I read science fiction (John likes it)," she wrote to Joyce.

Despite Alicia Larde's crush, which seemed to have erased the earnest student of science, she was playing a serious game. Her romantic dreams of becoming a famous scientist herself hadn't survived the harsh reality test provided by MIT. As she put it later, "I was no Einstein."43 Pragmatically, she recognized that marriage to an ill.u.s.trious man might also satisfy her ambitions. Nash seemed to fit the bill. Pragmatically, she recognized that marriage to an ill.u.s.trious man might also satisfy her ambitions. Nash seemed to fit the bill. "John could give her a lot of things she didn't have" observed John Moore, a mathematician who fell in love with Alicia some years later. "John could give her a lot of things she didn't have" observed John Moore, a mathematician who fell in love with Alicia some years later.44 Sadly, the romantic girl whose favorite song was "Lady of Spain" would most agonizingly disappear in just a few years. Sadly, the romantic girl whose favorite song was "Lady of Spain" would most agonizingly disappear in just a few years.

CHAPTER 27

The Courts.h.i.+p

NASH STARTED to make occasional references to "the music librarian" in his conversations with Mattuck. to make occasional references to "the music librarian" in his conversations with Mattuck.1 He was at a crossroads. The dangers of his s.e.xual experiments had become suddenly, devastatingly obvious. Marriage was a possible answer and he had, at his most frightened, almost convinced himself that he would marry Eleanor. Now that he was back in Boston and seeing her again, however, he could not bring himself to take any practical steps in that direction. Alicia came along at the right moment. He was at a crossroads. The dangers of his s.e.xual experiments had become suddenly, devastatingly obvious. Marriage was a possible answer and he had, at his most frightened, almost convinced himself that he would marry Eleanor. Now that he was back in Boston and seeing her again, however, he could not bring himself to take any practical steps in that direction. Alicia came along at the right moment.

Moreover, Nash liked what he saw. The son of a beautiful mother would would be drawn by the cla.s.sical symmetry of Alicia's features and the slenderness of her frame. Alicia's aristocratic lineage and social ease appealed to his own sense of superiority. The effect of her intelligence on him should not be underestimated. Nash was easily bored. He found her interesting company, liked the fact that she set her own compa.s.s, and was amused by her flashes of sarcasm and irreverence. be drawn by the cla.s.sical symmetry of Alicia's features and the slenderness of her frame. Alicia's aristocratic lineage and social ease appealed to his own sense of superiority. The effect of her intelligence on him should not be underestimated. Nash was easily bored. He found her interesting company, liked the fact that she set her own compa.s.s, and was amused by her flashes of sarcasm and irreverence.

It was part of Nash's genius to choose a woman who would prove so essential to his survival. He took her willingness to pursue him, to make every effort, not merely as flattery, to which he was no less immune than the next man, but as a sign that she was prepared to take him as he was. He saw her determination to have him as a real key to her character, suggesting that she knew what she was getting and expected nothing more.

They shared a good deal. Both were close to their mothers. Both had emotionally distant but intellectually stimulating fathers. Both had grown up in households where intellectual achievement and social status, rather than emotional intimacy, were the coin of the realm. Both, on account of their intellectual precocity, had somewhat delayed adolescences. Both felt that they were, in different ways, outsiders and compensated for this by seeking status for themselves. There was a coolness, a calculation, that guided their actions.

Nonetheless, the progress of the courts.h.i.+p was slow. Nash finally asked Alicia out during the spring. In July 1955 she wrote to Joyce that they were seeing each other "on and off."2 She said that he had introduced her to his parents some three weeks earlier. But she made it clear that they were not s.e.xually intimate. The significance of his having introduced her to his parents, given his mother's chronic concern She said that he had introduced her to his parents some three weeks earlier. But she made it clear that they were not s.e.xually intimate. The significance of his having introduced her to his parents, given his mother's chronic concern over Nash's social life, wasn't clear. Alicia, who must have taken it as a hopeful sign, did not admit to taking it that way. over Nash's social life, wasn't clear. Alicia, who must have taken it as a hopeful sign, did not admit to taking it that way.

I've been making slight progress with JFN but can't tell just yet if it's significant. I don't think he's really too interested but more or less can take me or leave me. About 3 weeks ago I met his parents who'd come up to visit him for a week. I've been seeing him on and off and last Sat.u.r.day we went to the beach together - I had fun.3

Alicia hinted at one reason why Nash remained lukewarm: "He still thinks I'm too innocent but has now condescended to accept me as is and just let my 'sweet innocent little self develop."

And in her own mind, Alicia was still playing the field, though it was clear that she was distracting herself and hoping in the process to pique Nash's interest.

I've picked up a few admirers this summer including that Junior that Marolyn was talking about. I keep refusing dates with him but he doesn't seem to get the idea and just follows me around, so far he has written a couple of cute poems that I'm keeping as suveniers [sic]. I realize that I'm sounding quite egocentric with all this but not much else has been happening.

Whether because of preoccupation with Nash or simply because of a waning interest in physics, Alicia failed to graduate with her cla.s.s. She had to stay on to make up a number of courses. But the shock of not graduating on time, and the unpleasant business of having to admit this to her father, did little to refocus her attention on her studies. She says in the letter to Joyce that she is making up M39 but that "so far I'm up to page 10 page 10 in Hildebrand." in Hildebrand."

Nash and Alicia saw more of each other in the fall. He took her to a math party. Then another. And out to the Newmans' house or to Marvin Minsky's. "Let's go Minskify," he would say to a group.4 Sometimes they double-dated with one of Alicia's friends. On those occasions, he almost ignored her once they had arrived and the introductions were made, going off to join the circle of men talking about mathematics. Sometimes Alicia would stand at the edge of the circle listening to Nash say things like "Who are the great geniuses: Wiener, Levinson, and me. But I think maybe I'm the best." Other times she found herself among mathematicians' wives talking about their children. There was no flirtation, no going off in a corner to hold hands, but in fact the relations.h.i.+p was more intoxicating for those reasons. The other women treated her with the deference accorded to the genius consort, which made Alicia feel rather smug. As for Nash, he could not help but be aware that the other men, impressed and surprised, envied him this adoring, gorgeous creature. Sometimes they double-dated with one of Alicia's friends. On those occasions, he almost ignored her once they had arrived and the introductions were made, going off to join the circle of men talking about mathematics. Sometimes Alicia would stand at the edge of the circle listening to Nash say things like "Who are the great geniuses: Wiener, Levinson, and me. But I think maybe I'm the best." Other times she found herself among mathematicians' wives talking about their children. There was no flirtation, no going off in a corner to hold hands, but in fact the relations.h.i.+p was more intoxicating for those reasons. The other women treated her with the deference accorded to the genius consort, which made Alicia feel rather smug. As for Nash, he could not help but be aware that the other men, impressed and surprised, envied him this adoring, gorgeous creature.

Other times they would go out for lunch, usually with someone else. Bricker often joined them, and also Emma Duchane. Bricker recalled Alicia as "very bright" and "quite sarcastic." bright" and "quite sarcastic."5 Emma recalled, "She was not deferential at all. She never stopped talking." Emma recalled, "She was not deferential at all. She never stopped talking."6 True, Nash was not especially nice to Alicia. Among other things, he called her unflattering nicknames, including "Leech," a nasty play on her childhood nickname, Lichi.7 He never paid for her meals, dividing every restaurant check down to the penny. "He was not infatuated with her," Emma recalled in 1996. "He was infatuated with himself." He never paid for her meals, dividing every restaurant check down to the penny. "He was not infatuated with her," Emma recalled in 1996. "He was infatuated with himself."8 To Nash, Alicia was part of the background, charming and decorative. He treated her the way other mathematicians treated their women. But Alicia wasn't looking for companions.h.i.+p either. Later Emma said: "We wanted intellectual thrills. When my boyfriend told me e e to the to the pi pi times / equals negative 1, I was thrilled. I felt the absolute joy of the idea." times / equals negative 1, I was thrilled. I felt the absolute joy of the idea."9 Nash was no less fun to be with than the other mathematicians. Nash was no less fun to be with than the other mathematicians.

A February 1956 letter from Alicia to a friend doesn't mention Nash at all. But at the end of that month Alicia's mother would move to Was.h.i.+ngton (Carlos Larde had gotten a position at Glendale Hospital in Maryland), a move that Alicia antic.i.p.ated with some glee.

It was probably sometime that spring that Nash and Alicia began sleeping together, at the end of those evenings in company where they barely exchanged three words. Nash was still involved with both Bricker and Eleanor. Indeed, he may have continued, even at this late date, to think of Eleanor as his likely wife. Alicia and John were in bed one evening when his doorbell rang.10 John answered the door. It was not Arthur Mattuck, who sometimes dropped by unannounced. It was Eleanor, indeed, an angry and shaken Eleanor. She said nothing but walked right past Nash into the apartment. She acted as if she'd come to talk things out with him. John answered the door. It was not Arthur Mattuck, who sometimes dropped by unannounced. It was Eleanor, indeed, an angry and shaken Eleanor. She said nothing but walked right past Nash into the apartment. She acted as if she'd come to talk things out with him.

When she realized Nash was not alone, she began shrieking and crying and threatening until finally she had cried herself out and Nash drove her home. Alicia, meanwhile, white-faced, left.

The next day, Nash went into Arthur Mattuck's office, told him the story, grabbed his head with both hands, and moaned, genuinely pained, over and over, "My perfect little world is ruined, my perfect little world is ruined."

Eleanor called Alicia and told her that she was stealing another woman's man. She told her about John David. She told her that Nash was planning to marry her and that she, Alicia, was wasting her time. Alicia invited Eleanor to her apartment for a meeting. Eleanor came; Alicia was waiting with a bottle of red wine. "She tried to get me drunk," Eleanor recalled. "She wanted to see what I was like. We talked about John."11 And, having met her, and realizing that Eleanor was an LPN, that she was practically thirty, that the affair had been going on for nearly three years, Alicia concluded that it wasn't going anywhere. She was not shocked. Men had mistresses, they even had children by them, but they married women of their own cla.s.s. Of that she felt quite confident. Eleanor had called her up to complain. Alicia was pleased. She took it as a sign that, as her friend Emma said, "she was beginning to matter." concluded that it wasn't going anywhere. She was not shocked. Men had mistresses, they even had children by them, but they married women of their own cla.s.s. Of that she felt quite confident. Eleanor had called her up to complain. Alicia was pleased. She took it as a sign that, as her friend Emma said, "she was beginning to matter."12 Nash was due for a sabbatical the following year. He had won one of the new Sloan Fellows.h.i.+ps, prestigious three-year research grants that would let the recipients spend at least one year away from teaching and, for that matter, away from Cambridge.13 He could go-where he liked. He was, perhaps unreasonably, still worried about the draft, as he had confided to Tucker in a letter a year earlier. He could go-where he liked. He was, perhaps unreasonably, still worried about the draft, as he had confided to Tucker in a letter a year earlier.14 He decided to spend that year at the Inst.i.tute for Advanced Study. He decided to spend that year at the Inst.i.tute for Advanced Study.15 He was beginning to think seriously about various problems in quantum theory and thought that a year at the inst.i.tute might stimulate his thinking. He was beginning to think seriously about various problems in quantum theory and thought that a year at the inst.i.tute might stimulate his thinking.

Alicia meanwhile complained in a letter to Joyce that February that she was "just vegetating." She mentioned a vague desire (which she did not say was connected with Nash) "to get a job in New York instead of staying on at the Inst.i.tute [MIT] to attend graduate school."16 At the end of the spring term, Nash took Alicia to the math department picnic in Boston. The picnics were always held during reading week and often on the commons. Wiener came, as did all the graduate students. It was an unusually warm day, and Nash was in high spirits. Nash did something curious that engraved itself on the memories of another instructor, Nesmith Ankeny and his wife, Barbara. It was, of course, Nash's notion of a joke. He wished to show everyone that he was the master of this gorgeous young woman, and that she was his slave. At one point, late in the afternoon, he threw Alicia to the ground and placed his foot on her neck.17 But despite this display of machismo and possessiveness, Nash left Cambridge in June without suggesting marriage or even that she move to New York.

Indeed, at the start of that summer, in June, another friend of Alicia's described Alicia as being in Cambridge and "in an unbelievable state of depression, due to a certain instructor at MIT."18

CHAPTER 28

Seattle Summer 1956 Summer 1956

NASH LEFT C CAMBRIDGE for Seattle in mid-June with the light heart of a man making a temporary escape from a tangle of personal and professional dilemmas. for Seattle in mid-June with the light heart of a man making a temporary escape from a tangle of personal and professional dilemmas.1 Travel always lifted his spirits and this trip was no exception. The month-long summer inst.i.tute at the University of Was.h.i.+ngton was exactly what he wanted. A top-notch crowd of mathematicians working in differential geometry would he there: Ambrose, Bott, Singer, as well as Louis Nirenberg and Ha.s.sler Whitney. Nash expected that his embedding work would make him one of the centers of attention. And he was looking forward to hearing Busemann's seminar on the state of Soviet mathematics because everyone knew that the Russians were doing great things, but the authorities were no longer allowing even abstracts of their mathematics articles to be translated into English. Travel always lifted his spirits and this trip was no exception. The month-long summer inst.i.tute at the University of Was.h.i.+ngton was exactly what he wanted. A top-notch crowd of mathematicians working in differential geometry would he there: Ambrose, Bott, Singer, as well as Louis Nirenberg and Ha.s.sler Whitney. Nash expected that his embedding work would make him one of the centers of attention. And he was looking forward to hearing Busemann's seminar on the state of Soviet mathematics because everyone knew that the Russians were doing great things, but the authorities were no longer allowing even abstracts of their mathematics articles to be translated into English.

The signal event of the summer inst.i.tute turned out to be the surprise announcement, within a day or two of the start of the meetings, of Milnor's proof of the existence of exotic spheres.2 For the mathematicians gathered there, it had the same electrifying effect as the announcement of a solution of Fermat's Last Theorem by Andrew Wiles of Princeton University four decades later. It stole Nash's thunder. For the mathematicians gathered there, it had the same electrifying effect as the announcement of a solution of Fermat's Last Theorem by Andrew Wiles of Princeton University four decades later. It stole Nash's thunder.

Nash reacted to the news of Milnor's triumph with a display of adolescent petulance.3 The mathematicians were all camping out in a student dormitory and eating their meals in the cafeteria. Nash protested by grabbing gigantic portions. Once he demolished a pile of bread. Another time, he threw a gla.s.s of milk at a cas.h.i.+er. And on one occasion, during a sailboat outing, he got into a shoving match with another mathematician. The mathematicians were all camping out in a student dormitory and eating their meals in the cafeteria. Nash protested by grabbing gigantic portions. Once he demolished a pile of bread. Another time, he threw a gla.s.s of milk at a cas.h.i.+er. And on one occasion, during a sailboat outing, he got into a shoving match with another mathematician.

Nash didn't immediately recognize Amasa Forrester, who looked like a s.h.a.ggy bespectacled bear with the hint of a double chin, a haphazardly shaven face, and gla.s.ses, and who even walked like a bear with a slightly forward-leaning gait, when the latter b.u.t.tonholed him after a talk. the latter b.u.t.tonholed him after a talk.4 Forrester had to remind Nash that they'd been at Princeton together, Forrester having been a first-year graduate student during Nash's final year. After they starting talking, however, Nash remembered Forrester as a Steenrod student who was always holding court in the Fine Hall common room, waving a water pistol around. Forrester had to remind Nash that they'd been at Princeton together, Forrester having been a first-year graduate student during Nash's final year. After they starting talking, however, Nash remembered Forrester as a Steenrod student who was always holding court in the Fine Hall common room, waving a water pistol around.

Despite his somewhat unprepossessing appearance, Forrester had interesting things to say. He was fast, aggressive, and seemed to know everything about everything that came up in their conversation. Forrester explained some of the details of Milnor's work to Nash. They also talked, then and later, about Nash's embedding papers, which Forrester appeared to know quite well.

Forrester invited Nash to come to see his living quarters, moored on Lake Union, between Lake Was.h.i.+ngton and Puget Sound in downtown Seattle.

To Nash, Forrester was "a different sort."5 He would later refer to Forrester, who went by the name Amasa, in the same terms that he used when he compared Thorson and Bricker to the Beatles -"young," "colorful," "amusing," and "attractive" - someone who made him feel like "the girls who love the Beatles so wildly." He would later refer to Forrester, who went by the name Amasa, in the same terms that he used when he compared Thorson and Bricker to the Beatles -"young," "colorful," "amusing," and "attractive" - someone who made him feel like "the girls who love the Beatles so wildly."

There was much to draw them together. Forrester, who had just turned thirty, was as brash and brilliant as Nash.6 He'd had a stellar graduate-school career. Steenrod, who was on his dissertation committee, had given him spectacular references. He was disorganized and sloppy but he had a photographic memory and wide-ranging interests. He hadn't done much since arriving in Seattle in 1954 and, indeed, hadn't been able to publish his dissertation because it turned out to contain a substantive flaw, but he was still full of enthusiasm, or at least so it seemed to Nash. He shared Nash's predilection for insult and one-upmans.h.i.+p - at Princeton he'd been referred to as King of the Common Room for that reason - and was given to sweeping judgments of the kind Nash admired. Once, for example, when a listener tried to question him after a talk, he responded by claiming, "It's easier to predict what mathematicians will be talking about fifty years from now than what they'll be interested in next year." He'd had a stellar graduate-school career. Steenrod, who was on his dissertation committee, had given him spectacular references. He was disorganized and sloppy but he had a photographic memory and wide-ranging interests. He hadn't done much since arriving in Seattle in 1954 and, indeed, hadn't been able to publish his dissertation because it turned out to contain a substantive flaw, but he was still full of enthusiasm, or at least so it seemed to Nash. He shared Nash's predilection for insult and one-upmans.h.i.+p - at Princeton he'd been referred to as King of the Common Room for that reason - and was given to sweeping judgments of the kind Nash admired. Once, for example, when a listener tried to question him after a talk, he responded by claiming, "It's easier to predict what mathematicians will be talking about fifty years from now than what they'll be interested in next year."7 His obvious eccentricity made him seem like a kindred spirit. This was a young man who had once managed to get himself permanently banned from the dining rooms of the Graduate College by Sir Hugh Taylor, the dean, for having deliberately broken dishes and crockery in the breakfast room. And his relations.h.i.+p with his mother was fodder for all kinds of stories. Former friends recall that a family record of worldly success and an overbearing mother both weighed heavily on him. Arthur Mattuck, who was at Princeton with Forrester, recalled: "'Amasy, Amasy, Amasy!' his mother would say. 'Oh, mom, you know how much I love you,' Amasa would coo back in a falsetto." His obvious eccentricity made him seem like a kindred spirit. This was a young man who had once managed to get himself permanently banned from the dining rooms of the Graduate College by Sir Hugh Taylor, the dean, for having deliberately broken dishes and crockery in the breakfast room. And his relations.h.i.+p with his mother was fodder for all kinds of stories. Former friends recall that a family record of worldly success and an overbearing mother both weighed heavily on him. Arthur Mattuck, who was at Princeton with Forrester, recalled: "'Amasy, Amasy, Amasy!' his mother would say. 'Oh, mom, you know how much I love you,' Amasa would coo back in a falsetto."8 Forrester was also openly h.o.m.os.e.xual. It's unlikely that his graduate-school professors or Sir Hugh were aware of this, but "he was fairly open about his h.o.m.os.e.xuality at Princeton and everybody at the Graduate College knew," said John Isbell, a professor of mathematics at the State University of New York at Buffalo and a fellow graduate student at Princeton. professors or Sir Hugh were aware of this, but "he was fairly open about his h.o.m.os.e.xuality at Princeton and everybody at the Graduate College knew," said John Isbell, a professor of mathematics at the State University of New York at Buffalo and a fellow graduate student at Princeton.9 Initially, Forrester had been quite circ.u.mspect with his colleagues at the University of Was.h.i.+ngton, but by the time Nash ran into him - perhaps because things were beginning to loosen up even in Seattle - he had concluded that he no longer had to pretend to be what he was not. Robert Vaught, a retired logician at the University of California at Berkeley, shared a house with Forrester during their first year as instructors in Seattle. He recalled: Initially, Forrester had been quite circ.u.mspect with his colleagues at the University of Was.h.i.+ngton, but by the time Nash ran into him - perhaps because things were beginning to loosen up even in Seattle - he had concluded that he no longer had to pretend to be what he was not. Robert Vaught, a retired logician at the University of California at Berkeley, shared a house with Forrester during their first year as instructors in Seattle. He recalled: It wasn't that he "discovered" his h.o.m.os.e.xuality then. It was very difficult for h.o.m.os.e.xuals then. In those days people thought the best thing to do was to get rid of it by some act of will. He sort of decided that he had to be a h.o.m.os.e.xual. Sometime during his third year in Seattle he bought himself a houseboat - there was a far-out group living on the waterfront - and gradually he began to let people know about his h.o.m.os.e.xuality.10

Nash always found the people who could give him what he needed. Forrester was the kind of smart, verbal, quick-witted man Nash was frequently attracted to. Forrester was also emotionally available. Under his eccentric, sometimes brash and loud exterior, Forrester was an exceptionally sweet man. "Kind and gentle, much loved by his students," was the description given by Albert Nijenhuis, another of Forrester's colleagues.11 Forrester also had an unusual capacity for connecting with troubled individuals. When Vaught, who, as a student, had endured repeated hospitalizations for episodes of mania and depression, first came to Seattle, Forrester was amazingly kind. Vaught recalled: "He was a Forrester also had an unusual capacity for connecting with troubled individuals. When Vaught, who, as a student, had endured repeated hospitalizations for episodes of mania and depression, first came to Seattle, Forrester was amazingly kind. Vaught recalled: "He was a very very fine man. I was a manic-depressive long before lithium came along. He was very helpful to me. Amasa encouraged me to find a psychiatrist in Seattle. I could talk to him." fine man. I was a manic-depressive long before lithium came along. He was very helpful to me. Amasa encouraged me to find a psychiatrist in Seattle. I could talk to him."12 In his first year at Seattle, Forrester "adopted" a mentally ill graduate student - a computer genius who had suffered some kind of psychotic breakdown - and tried to care for him, recalled John Walter, a mathematician at the University of Illinois who shared the house with Vaught and Forrester. "It was one of his projects." In his first year at Seattle, Forrester "adopted" a mentally ill graduate student - a computer genius who had suffered some kind of psychotic breakdown - and tried to care for him, recalled John Walter, a mathematician at the University of Illinois who shared the house with Vaught and Forrester. "It was one of his projects."13 It would have been obvious to Forrester that Nash, arrogant and aloof as he might appear, would respond to his sympathetic interest. "Amasa was pretty sharp. He would have seen through the veil," said Walter.14 Nash and Forrester hardly had much time to spend together; Nash was in Seattle only a month. Although Nash referred to Forrester, either by name or simply by the letter F, F, in letters until the early 1970s, there is no evidence to suggest that in letters until the early 1970s, there is no evidence to suggest that Nash and Forrester corresponded regularly or saw much of each other in subsequent years. Forrester stayed very much on Nash's mind, however. Eleven years later, on a pilgrimage that took him to Los Angeles and San Francisco, Nash spent nearly a month in Seattle. Nash and Forrester corresponded regularly or saw much of each other in subsequent years. Forrester stayed very much on Nash's mind, however. Eleven years later, on a pilgrimage that took him to Los Angeles and San Francisco, Nash spent nearly a month in Seattle.15 Forrester was still living in his houseboat with dozens of cats for company and was by then almost entirely cut off from his former mathematical friends.16 He had never lived up to his early promise, had been denied tenure, and had left the University of Was.h.i.+ngton in 1961. He worked briefly at Boeing and later at the giant Atomic Energy Commission plant in Hanford, Was.h.i.+ngton, before dropping out of the mathematical community in the mid-1970s. Later, he made his living tutoring and, on one occasion, acting as a live-in tutor for some children on a ranch. Nijenhuis, who ran into him a final time at a mathematics congress in Vancouver, British Columbia, in 1974, recalled that Forrester had told him that he'd worked as a goatherd. For years he would drop by the mathematics and physics library, looking progressively more seedy and disheveled. He died in 1991. This once-promising mathematician did not even merit an obituary in the He had never lived up to his early promise, had been denied tenure, and had left the University of Was.h.i.+ngton in 1961. He worked briefly at Boeing and later at the giant Atomic Energy Commission plant in Hanford, Was.h.i.+ngton, before dropping out of the mathematical community in the mid-1970s. Later, he made his living tutoring and, on one occasion, acting as a live-in tutor for some children on a ranch. Nijenhuis, who ran into him a final time at a mathematics congress in Vancouver, British Columbia, in 1974, recalled that Forrester had told him that he'd worked as a goatherd. For years he would drop by the mathematics and physics library, looking progressively more seedy and disheveled. He died in 1991. This once-promising mathematician did not even merit an obituary in the Seattle Times. Seattle Times. If, for Nash, Forrester's was the road not taken, one would have to argue that Nash, on this occasion, was perceptive about human beings. If, for Nash, Forrester's was the road not taken, one would have to argue that Nash, on this occasion, was perceptive about human beings.

Nash knew immediately that something was wrong when someone fetched him from the dormitory. The Nashes communicated exclusively by letter and postcard. A long-distance telephone call indicated that something was amiss.17 John Sr. was on the line. He sounded unnaturally grave. Nash's first thought was that he was calling with some bad news about his mother or sister, but he heard anger rather than sorrow or anxiety in his father's voice.

Eleanor Stier had contacted them and revealed the existence of their grandson, John Sr. said. The shock was enormous.

"Don't come home," John Sr. told him sternly. "Go right to Boston and make this right. Marry the girl."

Nash was too stunned to argue. The secret he was so anxious to keep from his parents was out. There was nothing to be done now. He agreed not to come to Roanoke. In a postcard dated July 12, he wrote his parents that he was "thinking of going back to BeanTown."18 Nash did go back to Boston in mid-July and stayed for two weeks. He spent most of his time either with Bricker or working in his office late nights.19 He turned to Bricker for advice on what to do about Eleanor. She had hired a lawyer. She wanted regular child support payments. The attorney, Nash found out, was threatening to go to the university. Nash, as Bricker recalled in 1997, was inclined to refuse to pay. He turned to Bricker for advice on what to do about Eleanor. She had hired a lawyer. She wanted regular child support payments. The attorney, Nash found out, was threatening to go to the university. Nash, as Bricker recalled in 1997, was inclined to refuse to pay.

Bricker, as usual, found himself in the middle. Eleanor had been calling him regularly. She was devastated by Nash's abandonment and bitter over his refusal to support their son. Bricker remonstrated with Nash. "He didn't want to pay child support. I told him, This is terrible. This is your son. If nothing else, do it for your own future. If the university got wind of this it'll ruin your career. You owe it to her." support their son. Bricker remonstrated with Nash. "He didn't want to pay child support. I told him, This is terrible. This is your son. If nothing else, do it for your own future. If the university got wind of this it'll ruin your career. You owe it to her."20 Nash, to Bricker's surprise, agreed to pay. Nash, to Bricker's surprise, agreed to pay.

CHAPTER 29

Death and Marriage 1956-57 1956-57

ALTHOUGH N NASH WAS TO SPEND the year at the Inst.i.tute for Advanced Study, he decided to live in New York instead of Princeton. the year at the Inst.i.tute for Advanced Study, he decided to live in New York instead of Princeton.1 Within a day or two of coming to the city in late August, he found an unfurnished apartment on Bleecker Street in Greenwich Village just south of Was.h.i.+ngton Square Park, a street lined with jazz clubs, Italian cafes, and secondhand book shops. The apartment was a typical railroad flat, small, dingy, and suffused with smells of his neighbors' cooking. Nash bought a few pieces of used furniture from a local junk dealer and sent his parents a postcard proclaiming a sentiment that they would be sure to approve, namely, that he'd rather save money than live luxuriously. Within a day or two of coming to the city in late August, he found an unfurnished apartment on Bleecker Street in Greenwich Village just south of Was.h.i.+ngton Square Park, a street lined with jazz clubs, Italian cafes, and secondhand book shops. The apartment was a typical railroad flat, small, dingy, and suffused with smells of his neighbors' cooking. Nash bought a few pieces of used furniture from a local junk dealer and sent his parents a postcard proclaiming a sentiment that they would be sure to approve, namely, that he'd rather save money than live luxuriously.2 But his reasons for choosing a five-story walk-up in downtown New York over a spartan flat on Einstein Drive in quasirural Princeton were more romantic than practical. The towering scale of the city, with its frenetic rhythms, ever-present crowds, and round-the-clock activity - "the wild electric beauty of New York"3- seemed wonderful to him, always had, from the first time Shapley and Shubik had invited him, when all three were living in the Graduate College at Princeton, to come up for a weekend. After he'd moved to Boston, he had seized every opportunity to return, sometimes staying with the Minskys,4 just to reexperience that sensation of simultaneous connectedness and anonymity. The bohemian enclave around Was.h.i.+ngton Square had long been a magnet for those who were s.e.xually and spiritually unconventional, and Nash too was attracted to its crooked streets, Old World charm, and implied promise of freedom. just to reexperience that sensation of simultaneous connectedness and anonymity. The bohemian enclave around Was.h.i.+ngton Square had long been a magnet for those who were s.e.xually and spiritually unconventional, and Nash too was attracted to its crooked streets, Old World charm, and implied promise of freedom.

If the decision to move to Bleecker Street meant that Nash was toying with adopting a different sort of life from the one he had hitherto imagined for himself, it was not to be. John Sr. and Virginia announced that they too were coming to New York.5 John Sr. had some business to transact for the Appalachian. Nash feared that they would confront him again on the subject of Eleanor. But the Nashes were even more preoccupied with the precarious state of John Sr.'s health at that moment. When Nash met them at the McAlpin Hotel, a few blocks from Penn Station, he tried to demonstrate that he was a loyal son by urging his father, several times in John Sr. had some business to transact for the Appalachian. Nash feared that they would confront him again on the subject of Eleanor. But the Nashes were even more preoccupied with the precarious state of John Sr.'s health at that moment. When Nash met them at the McAlpin Hotel, a few blocks from Penn Station, he tried to demonstrate that he was a loyal son by urging his father, several times in the course of the evening, to consult a specialist in New York. He told his father he ought to consider an operation. the course of the evening, to consult a specialist in New York. He told his father he ought to consider an operation.6 It was the last time Nash saw his father. It was the last time Nash saw his father.

In early September, John Sr. suffered a ma.s.sive heart attack.7 Virginia had a difficult time reaching Nash, who had no telephone. By the time she got a message to him, his father was already dead. Thereafter, he would think of fall as a season of "misfortunes." Virginia had a difficult time reaching Nash, who had no telephone. By the time she got a message to him, his father was already dead. Thereafter, he would think of fall as a season of "misfortunes."8 John Sr., who was sixty-four at the time of his death, had been ill on and off all year. That Easter Sunday he had been feeling too unwell to go to Martha and Charlie's house for dinner (Martha had married in the spring of 1954). And in late summer when he and Virginia were in New York, he suffered from a spell of weakness and nausea in the hotel.9 The news of his father's death shocked Nash. He couldn't fathom its suddenness, its finality. He was convinced that the death had not been inevitable, might have been prevented if only John Sr. had gotten better medical care, if only ... The news of his father's death shocked Nash. He couldn't fathom its suddenness, its finality. He was convinced that the death had not been inevitable, might have been prevented if only John Sr. had gotten better medical care, if only ...10 Nash rushed to Bluefield to attend the funeral, which was held