The Other Einstein

by Marie Benedict

Every body perseveres in its state of rest, or of uniform motion in a right line, unless it is compelled to change that state by forces impressed thereon. Sir Isaac Newton

The Polytechnic was a new sort of college dedicated to producing teachers and professors for various math or scientific disciplines, and it was one of the few universities in Europe to grant women degrees.

I said yes. Within days, the girls catapulted me into a life I’d never experienced before. A life with like-minded friends. Papa had been wrong, and so had I. Friends did matter. Friends like these anyway, ones who were fiercely intelligent and similarly ambitious, who suffered through the same sort of ridicule and condemnation and survived, smiling. These friends didn’t take away my resolve to succeed as I’d feared. They made me stronger.

“It isn’t enough we are but a few women in an ocean of men. The professors have to manufacture other flaws and highlight other differences,” Ružica said.

“Sense any allies?” Milana tiptoed into more strategic territory. The physics curriculum required collaboration among the students on certain projects, and we had discussed strategies about this. What if no one was willing to partner with me?

I constantly astonished myself with these girls. Astonished that I had the words to express my long-buried stories. Astonished that I allowed them to see who I really was. And astonished that I was accepted regardless.

Occasionally, if I relaxed into my reading and calculations—instead of studying and working so earnestly—I could see the divine patterns I desperately sought. But only in the periphery of my sight. As soon as I turned my gaze directly upon the patterns, they shimmered away into nothingness. Perhaps I wasn’t yet ready to view God’s masterwork head-on. Perhaps in time, he would allow it.

Sometimes, in the pages of my texts and in the glimmers of my musings, I sensed God’s patterns unfolding in the physical laws of the universe that I was learning. These were the places I felt God, not in the pews of Mama’s churches or in their cemeteries.

A hush settled over us, almost like we had entered a cathedral. In a way, that was what these primeval woods, the Sihlwald, felt like. Ancient, giant trees flanked us, and we

stepped over the corpses of their fallen brethren. The carpet of moss muffled the sound of our footsteps, making the croak of the frogs, the knocking of woodpeckers, and the song of the birds seem louder. I felt as though I had stepped into the primordial wilderness from one of the fairy tales that I loved growing up,

“Yes, I’ve always been partial to the name. It’s quite lyrical. Fagus sylvatica can live for nearly three hundred years. If given enough space to grow, they can reach nearly thirty meters. Crowd them, and their growth is stunted,” she said with an enigmatic smile. I caught her unspoken meaning; in our own way, we were like Fagus sylvatica. I grinned back.

We had reached the Albishorn, the peak of these woods, with its legendary vista. Spread before us was the vivid blue of Lake Zürich and the Sihl River, set off against white-capped mountains and rolling green hills dotted with farms.

I tossed the letters down on my desk. How could it be that I wrote both of these letters? It seemed incredible that I could feel both of these emotions so strongly and simultaneously. Longing and surrender. Duty and forsaking. But I did.

“Helene, I’m pleased with both of our choices.” I took her by the shoulders and, in mock seriousness, said, “Now, I’m going to give you the advice you’ve given me time and again. Remember to live in the moment. This is your moment with Mr. Savić. Please embrace it. And I will do the same with Mr. Einstein.”

To the contrary, I felt excited, as though I was stepping over the crumbling remains of my past life and crossing the threshold into my real existence.

As we dunked our soft bread into steaming cups of coffee, Albert described our plans. We would wander the Como streets until noon, when we’d board the boat bound for Colico, a three-hour trip to the north end of the lake. But we would hop off midway through the journey at the small fisherman’s port of Cadenabbia, where we’d visit

Itinerary For Lake Coml

There it was. The new rule was so simple and natural. Newton’s laws about the physical universe only applied to inert objects. No one needed to be bound by the old rules anymore. Time was relative to space. Time was not absolute. Not when there is motion.

“You are a genius at everything but the human heart.”

Yet, another voice argued, couldn’t I write this theory in her memory so that her death was not in vain? Maybe this was the “glory” I was meant to uncover.

but when we’re trying something new, there will be some mistakes along the way,”

love followed in science’s footsteps with Albert.

ancient philosopher, Seneca, had certainly understood one aspect of time perfectly: “Time heals what reason cannot.”

“Remember my words, Mileva, when you withdraw into the deadening cycle of home. You and I are not so different except in the choices we’ve made. And remind yourself that a new choice is always possible.”

Every body continues at rest or in motion in a straight line unless compelled to change by forces impressed upon it. I find this first law of motion, beautiful and profound, an elegant statement of one of God’s truths uncovered by man. In my youth, I perceived the tenet as applying solely to objects;

only later did I realize that people operate according to this principle too.