I have recently been doing some reading on the history of mathematics. I enjoy doing this mostly for the rich little anecdotes about individual mathematicians. Many of these stories may be apocryphal, but they're compelling all the same. Carl Friedrich Gauss, as you may know, is one of the towering figures from the annals of mathematics. In reading about him, I was struck by the suggestion that he would often try to hide the process by which he arrived at many of his discoveries. In writing his proofs he preferred for them to appear as though they had emerged "out of thin air." Also fitting with this description are the accounts that he disliked teaching. Together they paint a picture of a man preferred for his methods to remain mysterious.
A question this raises in my mind is whether this obscurity of methods is a necessary component of our idea of genius. Is a mathematician who produces many novel results by working much harder and longer than this her peers a genius? It would seem more accurate to me to say she's a hard-worker. If on the other hand her results come to her almost effortlessly, as though from some magic source of inspiration, then it seems appropriate to call her a genius. This holds for individual thought processes too. In general, the more I understand about how someone came to a result less likely I am to see it as a work of genius.
Let's consider the parallels to a magic trick. If a magician performs some challenging slight hand that his audience fails to notice, we say it seemed like magic. Suppose now he explains how it was done. If he performs this trick again and this time we don't fall for the misdirection, it will probably seem a lot less magical even if he performs it equally skillfully. This leads some people to see magicians as charlatans. It bothers them that someone would pretend to have magic abilities when in fact there is no such thing.
Personally this opinion strikes me as uncharitable to magicians. Pretending that the tricks are magic is part of the presentation of the performance, and a little suspension of disbelief is what makes it entertaining. I must confess, however, that I have less sympathy for people aspire to be seen as geniuses. Since there is less public recognition of the element of performance in being a genius, people who obscures their methods to give themselves the aura of genius often are viewed as having a magic gift. Trying to be transparent about your methods may make your findings seems a little less inspired, but it gives other people a better chance to collaborate with you on your work. An unfortunate truth about knowledge work is that this collaborative spirit often receives less respect than the auspices of genius.