Madame Curie

Crossing the Pont de la Tournelle, I turn right on the quai de Bethune on Île Saint-Louis and pause at the first set of oversized curved wooden doors, at number 36. It was in this shutter-less edifice that Marie Sklodowska-Curie lived from 1912 until 1934, the year she died. As I stand with my back to the doors gazing across the Seine, I note La Tour D’Argent restaurant on the Left Bank and scan the skyline, wondering what Marie’s life was like during the years she lived here. I know from reading her biography written by her daughter Ève that Marie would take a horse-drawn carriage to the laboratory where she worked at the Pasteur Institute. At times she would walk to or from the office, a robust uphill hike that would take more than half an hour. Her office is at 11 rue Pierre et Marie Curie, a street tucked behind the Panthéon that was renamed to include her during the years of the feminist movement.

In 1981 her office and laboratory, which were unsafe because of radioactivity, were decontaminated and opened as a charming, small museum that has Tuesday through Friday visiting hours. Tours are available in English, and you can sit in Marie’s office chair and survey her desk up close, with the telephone and writing accoutrements and her glasses and lab coat in place as though she had left only a few minutes ago. But on this day, it is her home that captures my attention. I think of Marie moving here six years after Pierre died on a rainy Paris night as he was walking near the Pont Neuf, head down and lost in thought. He was struck and killed by an out-of-control large horse-drawn lorry, and Marie was distraught and suffered deep depression for some time. But in 1910 she fell in love with Paul Langevin, a scientist and a married man, and she moved to quai de Bethune (though she and Paul also rented an apartment at 5 rue Banquier, within walking distance of the Sorbonne, where they would meet secretly). When letters Marie and Paul had written to each other were stolen (apparently by someone hired by Paul’s wife), their relationship became a scandal that was played out in newspaper headlines. I think of Marie seeking privacy during this terribly troubling period behind the large wooden doors on the quai de Bethune. Ultimately the matter died down after Paul and his wife came to a separation agreement; they later reconciled for a few years before divorcing. Ironically, his grandson Michel Langevin and Marie’s granddaughter Hélène Joliot later married; they are both nuclear physicists at the Institute of Nuclear Physics at the Institute of Paris, and their son, Yves, – Marie’s great grandson – is an astrophysicist.

Mulling over these thoughts and taking a few photographs, I am suddenly brought back to the present day by the arrival of two women, the older of whom is pushing a baby carriage. We strike up a conversation about the child, and the younger woman shares that she and her husband moved here from a smaller apartment just before their baby was born because they needed more room. Near-friends by now, they invite me to follow them into the courtyard for a closer look at Marie’s private world. As the grandmère pushes the baby carriage, she refers with pride and a smile to the child as “their little princess.” We pull on the oversized metal handle, a lion’s head encircled with a snake, and pass the metal edge that catches the door and into the courtyard. The child’s mother confides that this may be Marie Curie’s former home, but it is not so special to live there since she finds their apartment dark, not filled with sunlight as their former apartment was. I take out my camera to snap photographs of the tree-shaded apartment that they point out was probably Marie Curie’s, though they are not certain. The windows all have window boxes, most of them filled with red geraniums; another notable feature of the courtyard is a now-dry cast-metal fountain painted a deep, dark blue-black. Irène was 15 years old and Ève 8 when Marie moved the family to this Louis-XIV apartment. Ève became her mother’s biographer and Irène followed in her parents footsteps, becoming an accomplished and noted scientist. Marie earned two Nobel Prizes in her lifetime and Irène and her husband Frédéric Joliot-Curie earned another two between them, for a total of five such awards in the Curie family (including Pierre’s).

One scene that went on behind closed doors plays out in my mind as I imagine Marie’s life here.  Ève describes the scene when she was dressing for evenings on the town: her mother lounged in the daughter’s bedroom, expressing  disapproval of her high-heeled shoes and risqué black dresses with their bare backs and criticizing her make-up as dreadful.  Marie herself preferred simple and inexpensive black dresses and wore the same garment repeatedly until it was nearly threadbare.

I yearn for more details, but Ève kept family secrets well. When Marie died, she was buried next to Pierre in Sceaux on the outskirts of Paris. Sixty-one years later the remains of the Curie’s were moved to the Panthéon in Paris. Marie is the only woman to be honored in this way. Just this year yet another honor was bestowed upon her when the Pierre Curie Métro stop was renamed Pierre et Marie Curie.

As for the house on the quai de Bethune, the only indication that this was the home of an iconic woman scientist is the plaque to the left of the wooden doors.  Expressing thanks to the three generations of women who shared a special moment with me, I continue a stroll about the island. Walking along the Seine a couple of blocks to the eastern tip of the island, then moving along rue Saint-Louis-en-l’Île, I envision Marie walking these same sidewalks, stopping at the florists and grocers that line the main street. As I make my way along the island, I glance across the Seine to the large dome of the Panthéon that dominates the skyline and know it is only a five-minute walk from there to Marie Curie’s beloved laboratory.

Like everyone associated with BonjourParis.com, Joyce Baldwin finds Paris endlessly fascinating, a city of magical beauty.

Joyce writes on a wide range of topics, and her articles have appeared in many national publications, including The New York Times, Newsday, Journal of the National Cancer Institute, Psychiatric Times, and RubberStampMadness. She is author of two books for teenage readers — DNA Pioneer. James Watson and the Double Helix and To Heal the Heart of a Child.  Helen Taussig.  She has worked as both a writer and editor with Time-Life Medical and  several non-profit organizations, including Carnegie Corporation of New York, the Lustgarten Foundation for Pancreatic Cancer Research, The Skin Cancer Foundation, and the American Lung Association. When Joyce and her husband, Jim, are in Paris, she loves taking photos of this museum-like city.    She  has given her presentation, Paris Charm – and Beyond at library programs in New York and was awarded a New York Foundation for the Arts mini-grant to help launch a library gallery exhibit of her photographs.  Visit her web site at www.ParisCharm.com.

Welcome, Joyce! We are very pleased to have you as a member of  our BonjourParis family.