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In 1941 the German physicist Werner Heisenberg made a strange trip to Copenhagen to see his Danish counterpart, Niels Bohr. They were old friends and close colleagues, and they had revolutionised atomic physics in the 1920s with their work together on quantum mechanics and the uncertainty principle. But now the world had changed, and the two men were on opposite sides in a world war. The meeting was fraught with danger and embarrassment, and ended in disaster. Why the German physicist Heisenberg went to Copenhagen in 1942 and what he wanted to say to the Danish physicist Bohr are questions which have exercised historians of nuclear physics ever since. In Michael Frayn's new play Heisenberg meets Bohr and his wife Margrethe once again to look for the answers, and to work out, just as they had once worked out the internal functioning of the atom, how we can ever know why we do what we do. 'Michael Frayn's tremendous new play is a piece of history, an intellectual thriller, a psychological investigation and a moral tribunal in full session.' Sunday Times… (more)
User reviews
Structurally, it is fairly interesting in that the first act almost entirely makes sense in the context of what transpires in the second act. As a thought-provoking
Sure, Frayn's 40-page postscript illuminates a whole bunch of the issues that make the play's central event (the meeting between Bohr and Heisenberg) interesting, but the play itself is less intellectually taxing. In strictly literary terms, the characterization is lax but the dialogue is sharp, the setting and stage direction nonexistent but the suspense palpable.
In the end, after but one reading, I can say it was at least worth my time -- but I can't say for sure if it's worth another reading.
It is well done, there is lots of thought-provoking dialogue and thoughts, and you can't blame Frayn for the lack of anything resembling clear resolution.
But somehow something was still missing.
It is well done, there is lots of thought-provoking dialogue and thoughts, and you can't blame Frayn for the lack of anything resembling clear resolution.
But somehow something was still missing.
Why do I go to the theatre? The question bears the same gravitas as the one regarding books. Much like books, the theatre allows me to experience something different. Not like books or movies though, the theatre often
What about “Copenhagen”? Bottom-line. It’s a Hamlet play. It’s also about the fallibility of memory, human relationships, and being at a crossroad in life:
"Now we’re all dead and gone, yes, and there are only two things the world remembers about me. One is the uncertainty principle, and the other is my mysterious visit to Niels Bohr in Copenhagen in 1941. Everyone understands uncertainty. Or thinks he does. No one understands my trip to Copenhagen. Time and time again I’ve explained it. To Bohr himself, and Margrethe. To interrogators and intelligence officers, to journalists and historians. The more I’ve explained, the deeper the uncertainty has become. Well, I shall be happy to make one more attempt. Now we’re all dead and gone. Now no one can be hurt, now no one can be betrayed."
(Act One)
The rest of this review can be found elsewhere.
This play is obviously fictional but rooted in history and science. There is plenty that is factual within it, but then it moves on from there to suggest feelings and motivations, particularly Heisenberg's during his infamous Copenhagen meeting with Bohr -- one of history's great mysteries as no one knows what happened then or what the two discussed.
As it's so heavily steeped in science, this book can be a bit dense at times (especially the author's afterword that goes greater into detail about the factual elements) but I think it flows well and is fairly accessible even for the non-scientific (e.g., me). The human drama is what ultimately matters in this work. Overall, I found it a very compelling read and recommend it for those who enjoy messy feelings, muddy motivations, and/or historical drama.
There were sour grapes on both sides. C. P. Snow’s watershed essay provoked an incredibly hostile reaction when he suggested that the question “Do you know the laws of thermodynamics?” was the equivalent of “Have you read a work by Shakespeare?” Isaac Asimov complained that it was OK to portray Jupiter as a bearded man on a throne who molested little boys, but not as a planet with a hurricane bigger than the Earth and enough core pressure to convert hydrogen to a metal.
There just might be some meeting of the minds here and there. More popular media is portraying scientists as something other than clueless geeks or inhuman fanatics. Little of this has been particularly successful, but at least there’s some attempt to understand why a mathematical proof or a bridge design can be as creative as a painting or symphony.
Which brings us to Copenhagen, the 2000 Tony award winner. It is, alas, not really about quantum physics or the uncertainty principle – although it’s still a very good play indeed.
In 1941 Werner Heisenberg visited his old mentor, Niels Bohr, one evening in occupied Copenhagen. After the war, they had different memories about what they talked about. Heisenberg may or may not have pumped Bohr for any information he might have about the Allied nuclear weapon program. If he did, he might have been doing this to determine if he should press ahead with the German effort or if he should deliberately stall. Maybe he did deliberately stall, by intentionally miscalculating the amount of U235 it would take for a chain reaction. Or maybe he just made a mistake. The whole thing was, and still is – uncertain. That’s the catch, of course – the first culture is too willing to jump on “The Uncertainty Principle” and turn it into an analogy for the human condition. Heisenberg and Bohr don’t actually talk about physics in the play (although it is probably the only work of literature where someone mentions numbers in scientific notation). They talk about morals and ethics and what to do when you are not sure what to do or where your loyalties are. Those, of course, are pretty timeless questions, whether they concern Heisenberg or Hamlet. Thus, well worth reading.