Paul Erdős (1913–1996) was the most prolific mathematician in history — author of around 1,500 papers with more than 500 collaborators — and very possibly the most eccentric. He owned almost nothing, had no home and no job, and spent the last decades of his life as a mathematical nomad, showing up on colleagues' doorsteps around the world with a half-empty suitcase and the greeting "my brain is open."
A Hungarian prodigy, he could multiply three-digit numbers in his head at three and had discovered negative numbers for himself at four. He would go on to leave fingerprints on nearly every corner of discrete mathematics — number theory, combinatorics, graph theory, probability, set theory.
Erdős spoke a private dialect. Children were "epsilons" (the mathematician's symbol for something very small); women were "bosses," men were "slaves"; to stop doing mathematics was to "die," while to actually die was to "leave." God — whom he was not sure he believed in — kept a book, "The Book," containing the most elegant proof of every theorem, and the highest praise Erdős could give was that an argument was "straight from The Book." A whole volume, Proofs from THE BOOK, was later written in his honour.
Fuelled, in his own joking words, by coffee — "a mathematician is a machine for turning coffee into theorems" — and later by amphetamines, he worked nineteen-hour days into his eighties. When a friend bet him he couldn't quit the pills for a month, he won the bet, then complained that mathematics had been set back a month because he'd just sat staring at a blank page.
Because he collaborated so widely, mathematicians play a game of academic "six degrees": your
Erdős number is your collaboration distance from him. Erdős himself has number
Erdős loved elementary problems with deep answers, and elegant proofs above all. A teenage Erdős
gave the famous slick proof of
Erdős famously attached cash bounties — from