einstein

Lake Como, May 1901
“You absolutely must come see me in Como, you little witch,” Einstein wrote Mari at the end of April 1901. “You’ll see for yourself how bright and
cheerful I’ve become and how all my brow-knitting is gone.”
The family disputes and frustrating job search had caused him to be snappish, but he promised that was now over. “It was only out of
nervousness that I was mean to you,” he apologized. To make it up to her, he proposed that they should have a romantic and sensuous tryst in one
of the world’s most romantic and sensuous places: Lake Como, the grandest of the jewel-like Alpine finger lakes high on the border of Italy and
Switzerland, where in early May the lush foliage bursts forth under majestic snow-capped peaks.
“Bring my blue dressing-gown so we can wrap ourselves up in it,” he said. “I promise you an outing the likes of which you’ve never seen.” 31
Mari quickly accepted, but then changed her mind; she had received a letter from her family in Novi Sad “that robs me of all desire, not only for
having fun, but for life itself.” He should make the trip on his own, she sulked.“It seems I can have nothing without being punished.” But the next day
she changed her mind again. “I wrote you a little card yesterday while in the worst of moods because of a letter I received. But when I read your
letter today I became a bit more cheerful, since I see how much you love me, so I think we’ll take that trip after all.” 32
And thus it was that early on the morning of Sunday, May 5, 1901, Albert Einstein was waiting for Mileva Mari at the train station in the village of
Como, Italy, “with open arms and a pounding heart.” They spent the day there, admiring its gothic cathedral and walled old town, then took one of
the stately white steamers that hop from village to village along the banks of the lake.
They stopped to visit Villa Carlotta, the most luscious of all the famous mansions that dot the shore, with its frescoed ceilings, a version of
Antonio Canova’s erotic sculpture Cupid and Psyche, and five hundred species of plants. Mari later wrote a friend how much she admired “the
splendid garden, which I preserved in my heart, the more so because we were not allowed to swipe a single flower.”
After spending the night in an inn, they decided to hike through the mountain pass to Switzerland, but found it still covered with up to twenty feet of
snow. So they hired a small sleigh,“the kind they use that has just enough room for two people in love with each other, and a coachman stands on a
little plank in the rear and prattles all the time and calls you ‘signora,’ ” Mari wrote. “Could you think of anything more beautiful?”
The snow was falling merrily, as far as the eye could see, “so that this cold, white infinity gave me the shivers and I held my sweetheart firmly in my
arms under the coats and shawls covering us.” On the way down, they stomped and kicked at the snow to produce little avalanches, “so as to
properly scare the world below.” 33
A few days later, Einstein recalled “how beautiful it was the last time you let me press your dear little person against me in that most natural
way.” 34 And in that most natural way, Mileva Mari became pregnant with Albert Einstein’s child.
After returning to Winterthur, where he was a substitute teacher, Einstein wrote Mari a letter that made reference to her pregnancy. Oddly—or
perhaps not oddly at all—he began by delving into matters scientific rather than personal.“I just read a wonderful paper by Lenard on the generation
of cathode rays by ultraviolet light,” he started. “Under the influence of this beautiful piece I am filled with such happiness and joy that I must share
some of it with you.” Einstein would soon revolutionize science by building on Lenard’s paper to produce a theory of light quanta that explained this
photoelectric effect. Even so, it is rather surprising, or at least amusing, that when he rhapsodized about sharing “happiness and joy” with his newly
pregnant lover, he was referring to a paper on beams of electrons.
Only after this scientific exultation came a brief reference to their expected child, whom Einstein referred to as a boy: “How are you darling?
How’s the boy?” He went on to display an odd notion of what parenting would be like: “Can you imagine how pleasant it will be when we’re able to
work again, completely undisturbed, and with no one around to tell us what to do!”
Most of all, he tried to be reassuring. He would find a job, he pledged, even if it meant going into the insurance business. They would create a
comfortable home together. “Be happy and don’t fret, darling. I won’t leave you and will bring everything to a happy conclusion. You just have to be
patient! You will see that my arms are not so bad to rest in, even if things are beginning a little awkwardly.” 35
Mari was preparing to retake her graduation exams, and she was hoping to go on to get a doctorate and become a physicist. Both she and her
parents had invested enormous amounts, emotionally and financially, in that goal over the years. She could have, if she had wished, terminated her
pregnancy. Zurich was then a center of a burgeoning birth control industry, which included a mail-order abortion drug firm based there.
Instead, she decided that she wanted to have Einstein’s child—even though he was not yet ready or willing to marry her. Having a child out of
wedlock was rebellious, given their upbringings, but not uncommon. The official statistics for Zurich in 1901 show that 12 percent of births were
illegitimate. Residents who were Austro-Hungarian, moreover, were much more likely to get pregnant while unmarried. In southern Hungary, 33
percent of births were illegitimate. Serbs had the highest rate of illegitimate births, Jews by far the lowest. 36
The decision caused Einstein to focus on the future. “I will look for a position immediately, no matter how humble it is,” he told her. “My scientific
goals and my personal vanity will not prevent me from accepting even the most subordinate position.” He decided to call Besso’s father as well as
the director of the local insurance company, and he promised to marry her as soon as he settled into a job. “Then no one can cast a stone on your
dear little head.”
The pregnancy could also resolve, or so he hoped, the issues they faced with their families. “When your parents and mine are presented with a
fait accompli, they’ll just have to reconcile themselves to it as best they can.” 37
Mari , bedridden in Zurich with pregnancy sickness, was thrilled. “So, sweetheart, you want to look for a job immediately? And have me move in
with you!” It was a vague proposal, but she immediately pronounced herself “happy” to agree. “Of course it mustn’t involve accepting a really bad
position, darling,” she added. “That would make me feel terrible.” At her sister’s suggestion she tried to convince Einstein to visit her parents in
Serbia for the summer vacation. “It would make me so happy,” she begged. “And when my parents see the two of us physically in front of them, all
their doubts will evaporate.” 38
But Einstein, to her dismay, decided to spend the summer vacation again with his mother and sister in the Alps. As a result, he was not there to
help and encourage her at the end of July 1901 when she re-took her exams. Perhaps as a consequence of her pregnancy and personal situation,
Mileva ended up failing for the second time, once again getting a 4.0 out of 6 and once again being the only one in her group not to pass.
Thus it was that Mileva Mari found herself resigned to giving up her dream of being a scientific scholar. She visited her home in Serbia—alone
—and told her parents about her academic failure and her pregnancy. Before leaving, she asked Einstein to send her father a letter describing their
plans and, presumably, pledging to marry her. “Will you send me the letter so I can see what you’ve written?” she asked. “By and by I’ll give him the
necessary information, the unpleasant news as well.” 39
Disputes with Drude and Others