Irène Joliot-Curie,
12th September, 1897.
They fuck you up, your Mum and Dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another’s throats.
Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.
(This Be The Verse, Philip Larkin, 1971)
I have no idea what Philip Larkin’s relationship with his parents was like if I’m honest. But his famous poem This Be The Verse is less about what parents deliberately do to their children and more about how the emotional baggage parents put on their children stems from their own emotional baggage which was put on them by their parents and on and on that cycle goes. One either has to break that cycle or just let it roll down the generations, like the gene that gives you a big nose, instead, this one fosters an inter-generational loathing that exists simply because your Dad hated his Dad. Every parent hopes that they raised their kids better than their parents raised them, or at least improving on how their parents raised them, but all those little fucked up things that your parents did to you, unless you’re very careful, you did to your kids, too.
People are quick to think back to their childhood, take some sore memory and then claim “It didn’t do me any harm” when they remember their father giving them a good licking for some petty misdemeanour when they were six. Well of course it did you some harm. That’s why you remember it 50 years later. Because it fucking hurt, either physically or emotionally and probably both. The majority of parents then carry that hurt over to how they raised their own kids, even the well-meaning woke ones who don’t hit their kids. Those things are hard to shake off, no matter how hard you try. The apple never falls far from the tree.
They fuck you up, your Mum and Dad.
So, what do you do if you’re one of those world-famous boffin types, who are recognised internationally as a genius and you’ve won not one but two Nobel Prizes, in Physics and Chemistry and you have a kid? What’s more, you’ve had a kid and their Dad is also a Nobel Prize winner (although ‘only’ one) and together you were the first married couple to be awarded a Nobel at the same time? What about that kid? Do you fuck them up? Of course you do! All parents do.
But what you could also do is form a cabal of your international boffin chums, call it something bad-ass like The Cooperative and all take it in turn teaching each other’s kids all the boffin things you know. Hopefully, what then spits out the end of this genius sausage machine is a kid with an IQ of a billion, who can calculate Pi to a zillion places and is likely an emotional shipwreck.
Whether or not Irène Joliot-Curie was an emotional shipwreck, I couldn’t say, but what she did have was two parents in Pierre Curie and Marie Skłodowska, better known as Marie Curie, who were bona fide geniuses and Marie, after Pierre was run over by a carriage in 1906 and killed, wasn’t taking any chances with their kids turning out to be anything other than geniuses, too.
And it worked, because not only did Pierre and Marie win Nobel Prizes, so did Irène. Not only that, she won the 1935 Nobel Prize for Chemistry with her husband, Frédéric, making them the second married couple to win the Nobel Prize jointly, after her own parents.
Your Mum and Dad might fuck you up, but they also make you who you are. All the good things about you are there because your parents put them there. Be thankful for them, you ungrateful little shit. Now get to bed!
Irène Joliot-Curie was born on September 12, 1897, in Paris. From an early age, Irène was exposed to a world of intellectual rigour and scientific discovery. Her mother, in particular, played an instrumental role in shaping her education and career, not only by her achievements but also by her unique approach to Irène’s early education.
The Curie household was filled with intellectual conversations and research, but the family also prioritized a hands-on approach to learning. In 1907, Marie Curie, along with other prominent scientists, founded a cooperative school known as "The Cooperative." The goal was to provide a progressive and well-rounded education for their children, emphasizing both scientific and humanistic studies. The cooperative included children of intellectuals like Jean Perrin and Paul Langevin, and the curriculum focused heavily on scientific experimentation, allowing students to learn in a non-traditional, stimulating environment. This educational experiment laid a foundation for Irène’s scientific curiosity and intellectual independence.
When World War I erupted, Irène’s life, like that of many young Europeans, was thrown into turmoil. Yet, the war presented a different opportunity for her to serve: as an assistant to her mother. During the war, Marie Curie recognized the potential of radiography to save lives on the battlefield. She developed mobile X-ray units, known as “Petites Curies,” which could be used to diagnose wounded soldiers. At just 17 years old, Irène began working alongside her mother, operating these machines on the front lines. Her role was crucial, not only in assisting with medical diagnostics but also in maintaining and sometimes repairing the machines under difficult wartime conditions. The experience profoundly shaped Irène's resilience and deepened her commitment to science and humanitarian causes.
After the war, Irène pursued her higher education at the prestigious University of Paris, known as the Sorbonne, where her mother had once taught. Here, Irène immersed herself in physics and chemistry, working in her mother’s laboratory, which had gained international renown. Her early research focused on the properties of radioactive materials, a natural extension of the groundbreaking work done by her parents. In 1925, she earned her doctorate for research on the alpha rays of polonium, a significant milestone in her career.
Irène’s scientific achievements soon gained international recognition, especially in the field of radioactivity. Her most significant accomplishment came in 1934, when, together with her husband, Frédéric Joliot-Curie, she discovered artificial radioactivity. This discovery was revolutionary because it showed that stable elements could be made radioactive by bombarding them with particles, opening up new possibilities in medicine and industry. For this groundbreaking work, Irène and Frédéric were awarded the Nobel Prize in Chemistry in 1935. Their discovery had far-reaching implications, particularly in the fields of nuclear physics and medicine. It also laid the groundwork for the future development of nuclear energy.
Despite their success, the Joliot-Curies were vocal advocates for the ethical use of scientific discoveries. Irène, in particular, became increasingly concerned about the potential dangers of nuclear energy. She was a strong proponent of international cooperation in science and believed that scientific advancements should benefit humanity as a whole rather than be used for destructive purposes. Her political and social views reflected these concerns, and she was deeply involved in advocating for the peaceful use of nuclear technology. A staunch supporter of socialism, Irène joined the French Communist Party in the 1930s, driven by her commitment to social justice and equality. She viewed science not just as a means of advancing knowledge but as a tool for improving the lives of ordinary people.
Irène's political beliefs also extended to her views on religion. Like her parents, she was an atheist, rejecting traditional religious doctrines in favor of a humanistic worldview. She believed in the power of reason and scientific inquiry to explain the natural world and improve society. Her atheism, combined with her socialist ideals, positioned her as a prominent intellectual figure in the turbulent political landscape of pre-World War II France.
On a personal level, Irène’s life was marked by her partnership with Frédéric Joliot-Curie, with whom she shared not only a deep intellectual bond but also a strong commitment to social and political causes. The couple had two children, Hélène and Pierre, both of whom followed in their parents’ scientific footsteps. The Joliot-Curies also spent time in Switzerland, where they sought refuge during periods of political unrest. Their time in Switzerland was an opportunity for reflection and renewal, away from the pressures of their intense professional lives.
During World War II, Irène’s personal life was again intertwined with the broader political struggles of Europe. Frédéric became actively involved in the French Resistance against Nazi occupation, using his scientific expertise to help develop explosives and sabotage German efforts. Irène supported his activities, although she remained more focused on her scientific work. The couple's involvement in the resistance was a testament to their shared commitment to freedom and justice, values that had guided their scientific careers.
After the war, Irène’s health began to decline, likely as a result of her prolonged exposure to radiation during her years of research. Despite this, she continued to work passionately on advancing nuclear physics, particularly in developing nuclear reactors for peaceful purposes. Her efforts culminated in her appointment as the director of the Radium Institute, a position once held by her mother. Irène's leadership helped solidify France's position as a leader in nuclear research.
However, the toll of radiation exposure could not be ignored. In the early 1950s, Irène was diagnosed with leukemia, a consequence of the years she had spent working with radioactive materials. She sought treatment, but her condition continued to deteriorate. Irène Joliot-Curie passed away on March 17, 1956, at the age of 58, leaving behind a legacy of scientific brilliance and humanitarian concern. Her death marked the end of a remarkable life dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge and the betterment of society. Yet, her contributions to science, particularly in the field of radioactivity, continue to resonate, influencing research and medical treatments to this day.
Her passing was mourned by the international scientific community, which recognized her as not only the daughter of two iconic scientists but as a brilliant and pioneering mind in her own right. Irène’s life was one of dedication—whether to her family, her scientific pursuits, or her political ideals—and she remains a figure of immense respect and admiration for her groundbreaking contributions to science and society. The Joliot-Curie name, through her work and that of her husband, continues to be synonymous with the power of scientific discovery to change the world.