![]() ![]() Behind me, neatly arranged on long shelves, thousands and thousands of pages of articles, lawfully photocopied back in the days when scientific journals were still printed on paper, and a great many mathematical monographs, unlawfully photocopied back in the days when I didn't make enough money to buy all of the books I wanted. To my right a cabinet containing several hundred works of mathematics and physics. To my left, on a separate table, a computer workstation. Just as my piano teacher trained me to do, years ago. ![]() My fingers are spread apart like the legs of a spider. I'm seated in a comfortable armchair, insistently tapping my fingers on the large desk in front of me. Normally the laboratory would be deserted, were it not for two busy mathematicians in need of a quiet place to talk-the office that I've occupied for eight years now on the third floor of a building on the campus of the École Normale Supérieure in Lyon. ![]()
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