The Other Einstein—Historical Fiction Impacts My Present
by peyton garland
My mother read a plethora of literature to me while God was still shaping me in the womb. Regardless of my family’s persuasion, I’m a firm believer that my first words weren’t “Dada” and “no." Rather, I’m betting that I bypassed scattered, broken jargon for a first phrase, sitting upright and asking, “Shall we sip on herbal tea whilst we comb through Beatrix Potter’s most frolicking works?”
Fast-forward two years later, and my parents thought I’d escaped the house—or worse, been kidnapped. They tore the entire place apart, searching for ages, until they found me nestled in the warm dryer with my Sesame Street book. Push history another twenty years down the road and I earned a degree in English.
Words are my past, and perhaps that’s why I have a sweet, healthy addiction to historical fiction.
When anyone wants a historical fiction book recommendation, I ask them to rewind a couple centuries, cross the Atlantic, and visit Serbia. I want them to witness the brilliant, passionate, yet furious love between Albert Einstein and his wife, Mitza.
Marie Benedict’s The Other Einstein weaves the romance of Albert and Mitza into the late 19th and early 20th centuries’ explosive yearning to understand the science of the world. Albert is quite shocked to meet Mitza—a small, unassuming woman with a limp—in a typically all-boys physics class in college. Yet, Mitza owns her talents, her wit, and her genius.
Though the two fall in love, the world of physics, the need for scientific fame, and the impossible balancing of a family challenge all aspects of love and career.
At first, I merely chalked this book up as a superb tale, however, after reading up on some 1987 discoveries, I learned historians claim that Mileva (Mitza’s real name) was the brilliant mathematician—not her husband.
Many of these historians believe that without her genius, Albert’s physics papers might have never met the printing press.
I’ll be honest, The Other Einstein is more drama than romance. It's heavy, uneasy, and saddening. All the while it’s empowering.
Mitza makes moves that most women would never consider. She goes toe-to-toe with some of society’s finest, and her God-given genius is something to be marveled.
Mitza sparked an audacity in me that I didn’t recognize for the longest time. She gave my brain a voice that I never knew I had.
For that, I’ll forever be thankful for history, because without it I’m not sure what my present would look like.