A Book of Abstract Algebra

Second Edition

Charles C Pinter

• Publisher: Dover Publications
• Year: 2012
• ISBN:
  9780486134796
• Topic: Matemáticas
• Subtopic: Álgebra abstracta

Accessible but rigorous, this outstanding text encompasses all of the topics covered by a typical course in elementary abstract algebra. Its easy-to-read treatment offers an intuitive approach, featuring informal discussions followed by thematically arranged exercises. Intended for undergraduate courses in abstract algebra, it is suitable for junior- and senior-level math majors and future math teachers. This second edition features additional exercises to improve student familiarity with applications.
An introductory chapter traces concepts of abstract algebra from their historical roots. Succeeding chapters avoid the conventional format of definition-theorem-proof-corollary-example; instead, they take the form of a discussion with students, focusing on explanations and offering motivation. Each chapter rests upon a central theme, usually a specific application or use. The author provides elementary background as needed and discusses standard topics in their usual order. He introduces many advanced and peripheral subjects in the plentiful exercises, which are accompanied by ample instruction and commentary and offer a wide range of experiences to students at different levels of ability.

CHAPTER

ONE

WHY ABSTRACT ALGEBRA?

When we open a textbook of abstract algebra for the first time and peruse the table of contents, we are struck by the unfamiliarity of almost every topic we see listed. Algebra is a subject we know well, but here it looks surprisingly different. What are these differences, and how fundamental are they?

First, there is a major difference in emphasis. In elementary algebra we learned the basic symbolism and methodology of algebra; we came to see how problems of the real world can be reduced to sets of equations and how these equations can be solved to yield numerical answers. This technique for translating complicated problems into symbols is the basis for all further work in mathematics and the exact sciences, and is one of the triumphs of the human mind. However, algebra is not only a technique, it is also a branch of learning, a discipline, like calculus or physics or chemistry. It is a coherent and unified body of knowledge which may be studied systematically, starting from first principles and building up. So the first difference between the elementary and the more advanced course in algebra is that, whereas earlier we concentrated on technique, we will now develop that branch of mathematics called algebra in a systematic way. Ideas and general principles will take precedence over problem solving. (By the way, this does not mean that modern algebra has no applications—quite the opposite is true, as we will see soon.)

Algebra at the more advanced level is often described as modern or abstract algebra. In fact, both of these descriptions are partly misleading. Some of the great discoveries in the upper reaches of present-day algebra (for example, the so-called Galois theory) were known many years before the American Civil War ; and the broad aims of algebra today were clearly stated by Leibniz in the seventeenth century. Thus, “modern” algebra is not so very modern, after all! To what extent is it abstract? Well, abstraction is all relative; one person’s abstraction is another person’s bread and butter. The abstract tendency in mathematics is a little like the situation of changing moral codes, or changing tastes in music: What shocks one generation becomes the norm in the next. This has been true throughout the history of mathematics.

For example, 1000 years ago negative numbers were considered to be an outrageous idea. After all, it was said, numbers are for counting: we may have one orange, or two oranges, or no oranges at all; but how can we have minus an orange? The logisticians, or professional calculators, of those days used negative numbers as an aid in their computations; they considered these numbers to be a useful fiction, for if you believe in them then every linear equation ax + b = 0 has a solution (namely x = −b/a, provided a ≠ 0). Even the great Diophantus once described the solution of 4x + 6 = 2 as an absurd number. The idea of a system of numeration which included negative numbers was far too abstract for many of the learned heads of the tenth century!

The history of the complex numbers (numbers which involve

) is very much the same. For hundreds of years, mathematicians refused to accept them because they couldn’t find concrete examples or applications. (They are now a basic tool of physics.)

Set theory was considered to be highly abstract a few years ago, and so were other commonplaces of today. Many of the abstractions of modern algebra are already being used by scientists, engineers, and computer specialists in their everyday work. They will soon be common fare, respectably “concrete,” and by then there will be new “abstractions.”

Later in this chapter we will take a closer look at the particular brand of abstraction used in algebra. We will consider how it came about and why it is useful.

Algebra has evolved considerably, especially during the past 100 years. Its growth has been closely linked with the development of other branches of mathematics, and it has been deeply influenced by philosophical ideas on the nature of mathematics and the role of logic. To help us understand the nature and spirit of modern algebra, we should take a brief look at its origins.

ORIGINS

The order in which subjects follow each other in our mathematical education tends to repeat the historical stages in the evolution of mathematics. In this scheme, elementary algebra corresponds to the great classical age of algebra, which spans about 300 years from the sixteenth through the eighteenth centuries. It was during these years that the art of solving equations became highly developed and modern symbolism was invented.

The word “algebra”—al jebr in Arabic—was first used by Mohammed of Kharizm, who taught mathematics in Baghdad during the ninth century. The word may be roughly translated as “reunion,” and describes his method for collecting the terms of an equation in order to solve it. It is an amusing fact that the word “algebra” was first used in Europe in quite another context. In Spain barbers were called algebristas, or bonesetters (they reunited broken bones), because medieval barbers did bonesetting and bloodletting as a sideline to their usual business.

The origin of the word clearly reflects the actual context of algebra at that time, for it was mainly concerned with ways of solving equations. In fact, Omar Khayyam, who is best remembered for his brilliant verses on wine, song, love, and friendship which are collected in the Rubaiyat—but who was also a great mathematician—explicitly defined algebra as the science of solving equations.

Thus, as we enter upon the threshold of the classical age of algebra, its central theme is clearly identified as that of solving equations. Methods of solving the linear equation ax + b = 0 and the quadratic ax² + bx + c = 0 were well known even before the Greeks. But nobody had yet found a general solution for cubic equations

x³ + ax² + bx = c

or quartic (fourth-degree) equations

x⁴ + ax³ + bx² + cx = d

This great accomplishment was the triumph of sixteenth century algebra.

The setting is Italy and the time is the Renaissance—an age of high adventure and brilliant achievement, when the wide world was reawakening after the long austerity of the Middle Ages. America had just been discovered, classical knowledge had been brought to light, and prosperity had returned to the great cities of Europe. It was a heady age when nothing seemed impossible and even the old barriers of birth and rank could be overcome. Courageous individuals set out for great adventures in the far corners of the earth, while others, now confident once again of the power of the human mind, were boldly exploring the limits of knowledge in the sciences and the arts. The ideal was to be bold and many-faceted, to “know something of everything, and everything of at least one thing.” The great traders were patrons of the arts, the finest minds in science were adepts at political intrigue and high finance. The study of algebra was reborn in this lively milieu.

Those men who brought algebra to a high level of perfection at the beginning of its classical age—all typical products of the Italian Renaissanee —were as colorful and extraordinary a lot as have ever appeared in a chapter of history. Arrogant and unscrupulous, brilliant, flamboyant, swaggering, and remarkable, they lived their lives as they did their work: with style and panache, in brilliant dashes and inspired leaps of the imagination.

The spirit of scholarship was not exactly as it is today. These men, instead of publishing their discoveries, kept them as well-guarded secrets to be used against each other in problem-solving competitions. Such contests were a popular attraction: heavy bets were made on the rival parties, and their reputations (as well as a substantial purse) depended on the outcome.

One of the most remarkable of these men was Girolamo Cardan. Cardan was born in 1501 as the illegitimate son of a famous jurist of the city of Pavia. A man of passionate contrasts, he was destined to become famous as a physician, astrologer, and mathematician—and notorious as a compulsive gambler, scoundrel, and heretic. After he graduated in medicine, his efforts to build up a medical practice were so unsuccessful that he and his wife were forced to seek refuge in the poorhouse. With the help of friends he became a lecturer in mathematics, and, after he cured the child of a senator from Milan, his medical career also picked up. He was finally admitted to the college of physicians and soon became its rector. A brilliant doctor, he gave the first clinical description of typhus fever, and as his fame spread he became the personal physician of many of the high and mighty of his day.

Cardan’s early interest in mathematics was not without a practical side. As an inveterate gambler he was fascinated by what he recognized to be the laws of chance. He wrote a gamblers’ manual entitled Book on Games of Chance, which presents the first systematic computations of probabilities. He also needed mathematics as a tool in casting horoscopes, for his fame as an astrologer was great and his predictions were highly regarded and sought after. His most important achievement was the publication of a book called Ars Magna (The Great Art), in which he presented systematically all the algebraic knowledge of his time. However, as already stated, much of this knowledge was the personal secret of its practitioners, and had to be wheedled out of them by cunning and deceit. The most important accomplishment of the day, the general solution of the cubic equation which had been discovered by Tartaglia, was obtained in that fashion.

Tartaglia’s life was as turbulent as any in those days. Born with the name of Niccolo Fontana about 1500, he was present at the occupation of Brescia by the French in 1512. He and his father fled with many others into a cathedral for sanctuary, but in the heat of battle the soldiers massacred the hapless citizens even in that holy place. The father was killed, and the boy, with a split skull and a deep saber cut across his jaws and palate, was left for dead. At night his mother stole into the cathedral and managed to carry him off; miraculously he survived. The horror of what he had witnessed caused him to stammer for the rest of his life, earning him the nickname Tartaglia, “the stammerer,” which he eventually adopted.

Tartaglia received no formal schooling, for that was a privilege of rank and wealth. However, he taught himself mathematics and became one of the most gifted mathematicians of his day. He translated Euclid and Archimedes and may be said to have originated the science of ballistics, for he wrote a treatise on gunnery which was a pioneering effort on the laws of falling bodies.

In 1535 Tartaglia found a way of solving any cubic equation of the form x³ + ax² = b (that is, without an x term). When be announced his accomplishment (without giving any details, of course), he was challenged to an algebra contest by a certain Antonio Fior, a pupil of the celebrated professor of mathematics Scipio del Ferro. Scipio had already found a method for solving any cubic equation of the form x³ + ax = b (that is, without an x² term), and had confided his secret to his pupil Fior. It was agreed that each contestant was to draw up 30 problems and hand the list to his opponent. Whoever solved the greater number of problems would receive a sum of money deposited with a lawyer. A few days before the contest, Tartaglia found a way of extending his method so as to solve any cubic equation. In less than 2 hours he solved all his opponent’s problems, while his opponent failed to solve even one of those proposed by Tartaglia.

For some time Tartaglia kept his method for solving cubic equations to himself, but in the end he succumbed to Cardan’s accomplished powers of persuasion. Influenced by Cardan’s promise to help him become artillery adviser to the Spanish army, he revealed the details of his method to Cardan under the promise of strict secrecy. A few years later, to Tartaglia’s unbelieving amazement and indignation, Cardan published Tartaglia’s method in his book A...