In "Love & Math," Fighting Discrimination Through Numbers In 1984, when he was 16, Edward Frenkel was subjected to a malicious interrogation. Already a brilliant budding mathematician, he had applied for admission to "Mekh-Mat" at Moscow State University, the top mathematics program in the Soviet Union. But when he attended the critical oral entrance exam, his dream of becoming a professional mathematician came crashing down. He quickly solved the problems presented to him, but the examiners studiously ignored him, paying attention to the other students. Finally, an hour into the exam, his special inquisitors arrived and began hammering him with questions. Each correct answer was parsed and questioned in minute detail, and new problems, far beyond the required level, were presented in rapid succession. Dr. Frenkel fought on, but didn't stand a chance: in 1984, no Jewish student, no matter how gifted, could be admitted to Mekh-Mat. Mathematical brilliance was no match for institutional anti-Semitism. In many ways "Love & Math" is his response to that moment. For Dr. Frenkel, as he recounts in the autobiographical chapters of the book, did not give up. He continued his studies in a less prestigious (and less anti-Semitic) applied mathematics program, but his true education took place elsewhere. He tapped an informal network of mathematicians, many of them Jewish, who were denied employment in their field but kept up their work at the highest level. With their guidance, Dr. Frankel was soon conducting groundbreaking research. When the government finally relaxed its restrictions on international travel, he was invited to Harvard on a short-term fellowship that later turned into a permanent appointment. A few years after being denied admission to the undergraduate program at Mekh-Mat, he was a rising international star in the world of mathematics. The story of his professional triumph against heavy odds is deeply satisfying, especially when he is given the opportunity to confront his former tormentors during a seminar at M.I.T. But his true answer to the bigotry he encountered in his youth lies in his passion for mathematics - the "love" of the book's title. The truths of mathematics, as he explains, are objective, eternal and unchanging, residing in a perfect Platonic universe where prejudice and vindictiveness hold no sway. In the Orwellian world of the Soviet state, mathematics offered a haven in which truth stood for itself, free from ideological orthodoxy or the whims of the powerful. The anti-Semites at Mekh-Mat might have crushed young Edward's dreams of an academic career, but against the truths of mathematics, they were helpless. Now a professor at the University of California, Berkeley, Dr. Frenkel specializes in the Langlands program, an ambitious effort to unify the disparate areas of research in modern mathematics. The world of math, to use one of his favorite metaphors, is made up of different continents, seemingly isolated from one another: Number theory is about the properties of numbers, harmonic analysis is concerned with the properties of wave functions, the study of Riemann surfaces deals with the geometries of two-dimensional manifolds, and so on. The Langlands program draws connections among several of these "continents" by revealing startling similarities in their structures. To Dr. Frenkel, these unexpected analogies suggest that the different fields are just the visible manifestations of a deep mathematical truth that remains hidden beneath the surface. His quest is to reveal this universal structure. He does his best to explain the substance of his work to the lay reader, but this, he admits, is no easy task. Galois groups, Kac-Moody algebras, Hitchin moduli spaces, A-branes, automorphic sheaves and other concepts that are the tools of his trade are bound to challenge even the most dedicated nonmathematician. Impressively, he does not give up. Believing that mathematics is a common human possession, he explains each concept in nontechnical terms, relying heavily on analogies from daily life. In the end, lay readers will probably acquire no more than a superficial sense of all this technical work. But far more important, they will gain an understanding of what modern mathematics is about - its ambition, its beauty and its power to enthrall. Is mathematics truly as universal, eternal and unchanging as Dr. Frenkel believes? The history of the field suggests that it may not be, that mathematics could, in fact, be quite different in different times and places. The idea that different geometries can describe spaces different from our own, for example, is self-evident to a modern mathematician, but would have seemed sheer nonsense to any practitioner before the 19th century. Conversely, the fast and loose methods of the early pioneers of the calculus would be completely unacceptable in the modern field. And Dr. Frenkel's own experience in the Soviet Union makes it clear that mathematics is not entirely insulated from the political pressures of its day. But this matters little. "Love & Math" is not a detached philosophical overview of mathematics but a report from the trenches by a practicing mathematician at the forefront of the field. And as such it is powerful, passionate and inspiring. In 2010, Dr. Frenkel appeared in a short film he wrote, "Rites of Love and Math," in which a mathematician tattoos the "formula of love" on the body of his beloved, to save it and prevent it from falling into evil hands. It is perhaps Dr. Frenkel's ultimate answer to the trauma of his youth. The truths of mathematics cannot be erased; they live on, safe from the malignant designs of humans. In the world of mathematics the bullies of Mekh-Mat wouldn't stand a chance. Amir Alexander's next book, "Infinitesimal: How a Dangerous Mathematical Theory Shaped the Modern World," will be published in April.