Pierre Curie

by Marie Curie

When I arrived in Paris I was affectionately welcomed by my sister and brother-in-law, but I stayed with them only for a few months, for they lived in one of the outside quarters of Paris where my brother-in-law was beginning a medical practice, and I needed to get nearer to the schools. I was finally installed, like many other students of my country, in a modest little room for which I gathered some furniture. I kept to this way of living during the four years of my student life.

It would be impossible to tell of all the good these years brought to me. Undistracted by any outside occupation, I was entirely absorbed in the joy of learning and understanding. Yet, all the while, my living conditions were far from easy, my own funds being small and my family not having the means to aid me as they would have liked to do. However, my situation was not exceptional; it was the familiar experience of many of the Polish students whom I knew. The room I lived in was in a garret, very cold in winter, for it was insufficiently heated by a small stove which often lacked coal. During a particularly rigorous winter, it was not unusual for the water to freeze in the basin in the night; to be able to sleep I was obliged to pile all my clothes on the bedcovers. In the same room I prepared my meals with the aid of an alcohol lamp and a few kitchen utensils. These meals were often reduced to bread with a cup of chocolate, eggs or fruit. I had no help in housekeeping and I myself carried the little coal I used up the six flights.

This life, painful from certain points of view, had, for all that, a real charm for me. It gave me a very precious sense of liberty and independence. Unknown in Paris, I was lost in the great city, but the feeling of living there alone, taking care of myself without any aid, did not at all depress me. If sometimes I felt lonesome, my usual state of mind was one of calm and great moral satisfaction.

All my mind was centered on my studies, which, especially at the beginning, were difficult. In fact, I was insufficiently prepared to follow the physical science course at the Sorbonne, for, despite all my efforts, I had not succeeded in acquiring in Poland a preparation as complete as that of the French students following the same course. So I was obliged to supply this deficiency, especially in mathematics. I divided my time between courses, experimental work, and study in the library. In the evening I worked in my room, sometimes very late into the night. All that I saw and learned that was new delighted me. It was like a new world opened to me, the world of science, which I was at last permitted to know in all liberty.

I have pleasant memories of my relations with my student companions. Reserved and shy at the beginning, it was not long before I noticed that the students, nearly all of whom worked seriously, were disposed to be friendly. Our conversations about our studies deepened our interest in the problems we discussed.

Among the Polish students I did not have any companions in my studies. Nevertheless, my relations with their small colony had a certain intimacy. From time to time we would gather in one another's bare rooms, where we could talk over national questions and feel less isolated. We would also go for walks together, or attend public reunions, for we were all interested in politics. By the end of the first year, however, I was forced to give up these relationships, for I found that all my energy had to be concentrated on my studies, in order to achieve them as soon as possible. I was even obliged to devote most of my vacation time to mathematics.

My persistent efforts were not in vain. I was able to make up for the deficiency of my training and to pass examinations at the same time with the other students. I even had the satisfaction of graduating in first rank as "licenciée es sciences physiques" in 1893, and in second rank as "licenciée es sciences mathématiques" in 1894.

My brother-in-law, recalling later these years of work under the conditions I have just described, jokingly referred to them as "the heroic period of my sister-in-law's life." For myself, I shall always consider one of the best memories of my life that period of solitary years exclusively devoted to the studies, finally within my reach, for which I had waited so long.

It was in 1894 that I first met Pierre Curie. One of my compatriots, a professor at the University of Fribourg, having called upon me, invited me to his home, with a young physicist of Paris, whom he knew and esteemed highly. Upon entering the room I perceived, standing framed by the French window opening on the balcony, a tall young man with auburn hair and large, limpid eyes. I noticed the grave and gentle expression of his face, as well as a certain abandon in his attitude, suggesting the dreamer absorbed in his reflections. He showed me a simple cordiality and seemed to me very sympathetic. After that first interview he expressed the desire to see me again and to continue our conversation of that evening on scientific and social subjects in which he and I were both interested, and on which we seemed to have similar opinions.

Some time later, he came to me in my student room and we became good friends. He described to me his days, filled with work, and his dream of an existence entirely devoted to science. He was not long in asking me to share that existence, but I could not decide at once; I hesitated before a decision that meant abandoning my country and my family.