“Why not apply yourself to this good old conjecture? The University of Göttingen is offering one hundred thousand marks to anyone who can prove it before the end of the millennium.”
“Fermat? You’re nuts, Pauli. I’m not a trained monkey. Before even starting I would have to spend three years in intensive preparation. I don’t have time to waste on a project that would probably end in failure.”17
Herr Einstein grabbed the notebook and showed me the conundrum that was so lucrative. I was disappointed. It consisted of only three variables.
“You’re no gambler. You see, dear Adele, Fermat was a French mathematician who liked to play jokes. He jotted down this diabolical conjecture in the margins of a book, saying there was not enough space to write out the proof.18 The implication was that he had found one but wasn’t giving it. For three centuries our great mathematical minds have been tearing their hair out over it! No one has come close to a solution. But then, your husband has never tried his hand at the problem. You would be famous, Gödel! The continuum hypothesis won’t bring you wealth and glory. You should join the times. Think advertising! Leave infinity to its lonely fate.”
Pauli smiled, glad not to be the focus of the older man’s irony.
“My wife has no business meddling in these matters.”
I couldn’t resist putting his feet to the flames.
“Why don’t you try? Are you afraid of failing?”
“Ach! Mrs. Gödel is telling us something about incompleteness!”
“It has nothing to do with incompleteness! I’m not afraid of engaging the outer boundaries of mathematics. I simply know the limits of my own intelligence. You don’t understand the first thing about it, Adele.”
“I am all for harmony in the home! I was teasing you, Gödel. The one absolute in a world like ours is humor.”
“As you already know, Professor, my husband lacks a sense of humor.”
Kurt, choked with anger, rose to his feet and stalked out of the room without a word. There was a long pause. Einstein, a little disconcerted, tried to lighten the mood.
“Pauli, did you hear the news? Bamberger just died. Flexner’s term in office is about to end, so things are going to change!”
“The Institute has become a preserve for military interests. The next director will no doubt be a loyal servant of the state.”
“I’ll support Oppenheimer’s candidacy. Robert is a man who is open to the humanities.”
“And to leftist ideas?”
“Don’t be so partisan, Pauli! I’m thinking that the IAS should open its doors to new fields of research.”
“Do you think the next administration will reconsider my husband’s position? He is still an ordinary member. His status is so precarious.”
“Dear woman, as long as Siegel is on the council, his situation won’t improve.”
“Are they worried about his mental health? Kurt is harmless, you know that perfectly well.”
“How is he at the moment?”
“Always complaining. He says he has an ulcer, but he refuses to see a doctor.”
He patted me on the hand.
“Extreme sharpness, clarity, and certainty require an enormous sacrifice … the loss of one’s ability to see the whole. It can’t be easy on a day-to-day basis, but you are in the overall picture, believe me!”
I checked to see that my husband wasn’t listening in the hallway. If I were to say even what was common knowledge, he would take it as a personal betrayal. I trusted Herr Einstein. He didn’t judge my Kurt.
“He is starting to see things again. He thinks he is being followed.”
“Maybe he is. I am under constant surveillance. My private mail is censored.”
“It isn’t a question of that. He sees shapes. Ghosts.”
“The atmosphere in Princeton is a little oppressive right now. The war is drawing to a close, you’ll soon be getting good news from your families, and the world will give Kurt Gödel his due. Things will work out.”
“I’m not so trustful. We’ve been through this before. But in America I don’t have any family or friends to support me.”
“He has many friends, don’t think he doesn’t. Morgenstern looks after him as though he were a brother. Your husband is the kind of man you don’t run into often. I’ll do everything I can to advance your material situation. Keep your spirits up! I’m so sorry that I brought strain to your dinner. Wolfgang has known me a long time, he knows that my intentions are good.”
“The professor has only the best inattentions.”
Kurt came back into the room. I beamed a big, reassuring smile at him.
“Why don’t we all go for a drink somewhere?”
The two men rose as one in rejection. Kurt slipped away without further ado, leaving me to say goodbye to our guests. They showered me with thanks before disappearing arm in arm, momentarily reconciled by their common digestion. I reopened the windows to rid the apartment of smoke and the smell of grease, cleared the table, and emptied the ashtray. I squashed the bread-dough figurine with the flat of my palm. Many friends. Oskar Morgenstern was too polite to show his contempt for me. Our marriage was a complete conundrum as far as he was concerned. These fine gentlemen were willing enough to eat my cooking but not to hear my worries. My husband might have many friends, but what of me? I snuffed out the candles without wetting my fingers; I liked the pinprick of pain.
The sink overflowed with dishes; I attacked the heap without worrying about the noise. The door to the bedroom slammed in retaliation. When I finished, I allowed myself a cigarette. Somewhere in New York, a woman my age was smoking the same cigarette while drying her nail polish. She was deciding what to wear to go dancing at El Morocco, still hesitating between two pairs of shoes. One by one, the windows around town winked out. Princeton went to bed early. I wasn’t tired.
* Pauli’s nickname, a pun on “Einstein” meaning “Einstein No. 2.”
29
Anna left Princeton early heading for Pine Run, determined to set the conversation back on a more professional footing. Sitting at the wheel, she felt a familiar sensation in the pit of her stomach. She was nervous. She glanced at herself in the rearview mirror and wiped away the excess blush; she had upped the dosage to make herself look healthy. In the gray morning light she looked like a corpse tricked out by the embalmer. Why did she have the feeling at every visit that she was on trial? Yet each visit had been like a day at the beach: she emerged with her muscles wrung out and her head clear, until the next sleepless night brought its onslaught of dark thoughts.
The previous evening she had looked at her gym shoes, which she hadn’t worn for months. She needed to get back to exercising; she couldn’t stand her little old lady’s body. The cat had looked at her with disdain before going back to the sofa for its nap. She had shut the closet door and flopped down beside it. If there really was a cosmic hierarchy, then a cat’s life was at the very top rung.
“Kommen Sie rein!” She hadn’t knocked yet, but Mrs. Gödel had recognized the sound of her footsteps. Adele was fingering her blanket, ignoring the current of cold air that rattled the window blinds.
“Where were we?”
“Let me take my jacket off.”
“And a good thing too. It’s repulsive.”
The young woman closed the window. The armchair had been pushed away from the bed; she sat in it without bringing it any closer, her face neutral and her back at attention.
“Elizabeth and Gladys are following your case very closely. For once we agree on something. You must have a man!”
Anna stifled a laugh, at the same time cursing herself for having dropped her guard so quickly.