CHICAGO
JOURNAL
Staying the Nobel
course
When the Swedish Academy announced the 2003 Nobel
prizes,
Chicago added two more to its list.
Photo by Lloyd DeGrane |
Coetzee and Lear head to their
class on Plato’s Phaedrus |
What do a press-wary, South African author and
an exuberant, Russian-born physicist have in common? Three things:
Nobel prizes, the University of Chicago, and persistence. John Maxwell
Coetzee, distinguished service professor in the Committee on Social
Thought, won the 2003 Nobel Prize in Literature, while Alexei Abrikosov,
distinguished physicist at the University-managed Argonne National
Laboratory, shared the 2003 Nobel Prize in Physics (with Vitaly
L. Ginzburg of the P. N. Lebedev Physical Institute in Moscow and
Anthony J. Leggett of the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign)
by doggedly pursuing avenues of intellectual inquiry.
Shortly after Coetzee learned of his award at
6 a.m. October 2, he wrote in a statement that the honor “came
as a complete surprise—I was not even aware that the announcement
was pending.” But Coetzee, who examines human cruelty and
salvation in his books on apartheid, is no stranger to acclaim:
he is the only author to receive Britain’s most prestigious
literary award, the Booker Prize, twice—for Life and Times
of Michael K in 1983 and Disgrace in 1999.
Educated at the University of Cape Town, the
63-year-old author earned two bachelor’s degrees with honors—in
English and mathematics—and a master’s in English. He
received his doctorate in English from the University of Texas,
Austin. Coetzee, who has taught at Chicago every fall since 1996,
spending the rest of the year as an honorary research fellow at
Australia’s University of Adelaide, was “particularly
happy” to be at Chicago when the award was announced. “The
University of Chicago, and in particular the Committee on Social
Thought,” he wrote, “has been my intellectual home for
the past seven years.”
Although Coetzee is notoriously private, rarely
giving interviews, “the idea put forward in the media that
he is a ‘recluse’ is ridiculous,” says Jonathan
Lear, the John U. Nef distinguished service professor in Social
Thought, who has cotaught courses with Coetzee for four years. “What
is true is that he shuns the superficiality and distortion of sound
bites. In fact, intellectual conversation, true collegiality, and
teaching are vitally important to him.”
Photo by Dan Dry |
Abrikosov at his Reynolds Club
press conference. |
Coetzee and Lear have taught courses on War
and Peace, In Search of Lost Time, The Brothers Karamazov, and Phaedrus,
Lear notes, asking questions such as: “What is it about a
conversation that can change the structure of the soul? How is it
that people are able to speak and reach beyond themselves? How does
cruelty arise—and what, if anything, can defuse it?”
Praising Coetzee’s pursuit of similar questions
in his own literature, the Swedish Academy called him “a scrupulous
doubter, ruthless in his criticism of the cruel rationalism and
cosmetic morality of Western civilization.”
While Coetzee was surprised by his Nobel, Abrikosov
suspected that this might be his year when the Academy sent him
a letter in May announcing his nomination. Although he had been
nominated previously, “never before did I get such a letter,”
Abrikosov said at an October 7 press conference at the Reynolds
Club.
Abrikosov, who came to Argonne in 1991 after
working at Moscow’s Kapitsa Institute for Physical Problems,
and his cowinners were cited as pioneers in superconductivity, which
examines the way certain materials lose resistance to electrical
currents as the temperature approaches absolute zero (about -459
degrees F). Abrikosov built on cowinner Ginzburg’s 1950 equations
describing type-I superconductor behavior. After studying those
equations Abrikosov noticed that many superconductors, contrary
to the going theory, did not in fact totally displace magnetic flow.
In 1953 he explained how magnetic fields can penetrate type-II superconductors
through tiny vortices, today called Abrikosov vortices.
His research was met with incredulity because
most known superconductors were type-I and the prevailing theory
seemed to aptly explain them. But many superconductors discovered
in the 1960s were type II—the type now used in magnetic resonance
imaging and that may be used in magnetically levitating trains—and
since the 1980s Abrikosov’s work has increasingly influenced
superconductivity research.
When his research was doubted, he said, “I
put it in a drawer. But I did not put it in the wastepaper basket
because I believed in it.”—Annie Wipplinger, AB’02
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