John Gimlette

How many positions are there in the Kamasutra?

That, and other intriguing facts about integers, can be found in Barnaby Rogerson's Book of Numbers

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issue 16 November 2013

Numbers, as every mathematician knows, do odd things. But they’re never odder than in the human context. Ever since we crept out of the swamps, we’ve been making numbers lucky, fearsome, ominous and even sacred. Across the cultures, we’re nuts about numbers, with little thought for logic.

Take 23, for example. In 1960, William Burroughs met a sea captain who, after exactly 23 years at sea, was lost with all hands. The same day, Flight 23 was reported lost in Florida. After that, Burroughs became obsessed by the portentousness of 23, and others followed. At last, 23 was exposed; it’s the psalm of choice at funerals; in ancient Chinese tradition, it meant ‘breaking apart’. There were plenty of other ominous 23s. As Burroughs’s friend, Robert Wilson, noted, ‘When you start looking for something you tend to find it.’

And, boy, have we humans spent time giving meaning to numbers. Now, thanks to Rogerson’s Book of Numbers we have a delicious collection of the world’s holiest, most significant and wackiest integers.  Laid out like a miniature encyclopaedia, Rogersons’s beautifully crafted references take us from the millions down to zero. All the big hitters are there, like 40 (a recurring figure in Semitic religions) and 12 (the astrologer’s staple). But there are also a few surprises like 56, which is much-favoured by the builders of columns (Stonehenge, Tiananmen Square and Washington’s National War Memorial).

It is, however, rare to find numbers that are significant across different cultures. There are a few obvious ones like 10 (thanks to our fingers) and 365 (our trip round the sun). But the dearth of common themes demonstrates the sheer illogicality of significant numbers. So it is that, in China, 4 is unlucky (it sounds like ‘death’) whereas, in the West, it’s 13 (both Napoleon and FDR refused to sit at tables of 13). 

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