I’ll never see that smile again
Weeks after his death, Marie Curie writes to her husband
Marie and Pierre Curie were partners in life and science, their groundbreaking work on radioactivity reshaping physics and jointly earning them the Nobel Prize in 1903. It was three years after that triumph that tragedy struck: as he crossed a Paris street one rainy morning, Pierre slipped beneath a horse-drawn carriage and was killed instantly. In the days and weeks that followed, stricken with grief, Marie wrote letters to her late husband in a mourning journal. Below is just one. Despite her profound sorrow, Marie carried on their work, finding solace in the laboratory. In 1911 she was awarded a second Nobel Prize, cementing her legacy as one of history’s greatest scientists.
14 May 1906
My dear Pierre,
I want to tell you that the laburnum is in bloom, and the wisteria, hawthorn, and iris are just beginning—you would have loved to see it all.
I want to tell you, too, that I’ve been appointed to your chair, though some fools have had the nerve to congratulate me for it.
I live in constant desolation, unsure of what will become of me or how I’ll manage the work ahead. At times, I feel my grief easing, but then it returns, fierce and unrelenting.
I want you to know that I no longer love the sun or the flowers. Their sight pains me. I find some comfort in grey, heavy days, like the one when you left me. If I haven’t learned to hate the fine weather, it’s only because the children need it.
On Sunday morning, I visited your grave. I’ll have a vault built, and your coffin will need to be moved. I spend my days in the lab—it’s the only place where I feel I can bear to be.
I can’t imagine anything that could bring me true happiness, except perhaps my work, though even that is tainted. If I succeed, I’ll only ache that you’re not here to see it. The laboratory feels like a fragile thread connecting me to the remnants of your life.
I found a little photograph of you near the scales. You were smiling so beautifully. I can’t look at it without sobbing—I’ll never see that smile again.
Marie
This letter was originally written in Marie Curie’s mourning journal, which has never been published in full. However, some of it was made public in the 1937 biography Madame Curie, written by her daughter, Ève Curie.
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How perfectly and painfully this letter captures profound grief. Thanks for your Substack. I love it.
This is so beautiful and profound and tragic. It really captures grief very well.