1795: L'École Polytechnique

Dear Journal,

            I write to you now in a state of great frustration. It seems that there will be no end to the obstacles that arise in my mathematical endeavors. Mother and Father have been bombarding me with an insufferable chorus of “I told you so” since yesterday’s rejection from L’École Polytechnique, the new school of math and physics that has been established here in Paris. They see this as yet another opportunity to impress upon me that society women, such as myself, have no business getting an education, much less in the world of mathematics. Despite the Polytechnique’s strictly male admittance policy, I still indulged in the hope that my sleepless nights of studying Calculus under the bed-sheets would somehow pay off. I refuse to acknowledge, however, that this is a sign my studies have been in vain. When the Bastille fell, France had begun its revolution and I, sheltered from the turmoil in my father’s library, had discovered math. At thirteen years of age, I had paid no mind to the radical social and political transition France was making. It was the story of Archimedes death, an ancient Greek mathematician, that captured my interest. Archimedes was so engrossed in the study of a geometric figure that he failed to respond to the questioning of a Roman soldier was speared to death. Upon reading this initially, I was puzzled – how could a simple geometric figure be so interesting that he failed to realize the chaos surrounding him, much less that his life was at risk? However, as I began to explore his discoveries further, I began to understand. I caught the same fever as Archimedes, that addictive feelings of needing to understand a theorem or equation, striving to attain the personal satisfaction of figuring out a complicated concept.

This is L'École Polytechnique, just 4 kilometers from my house.

This is the illustration of Archimede's death, which was one in one of my father's books.

 After that, there weren’t many days I didn’t spend reading in Father’s library, studying everything from Newton to Euler. Mother and Father attempted to curb my learning at first, confiscating my candles, clothes, and any form of heating. While I certainly to do not have their approval now, their efforts to prevent me from educating myself have lessoned. I think the complete mess that is our new form of government has them distracted, with everyone getting beheaded by the Guillotine and all. The wealthy are particularly targeted in this practice, and this should probably worry me more than it does.

            I am currently trying to devise a way in which I can learn the material being taught in L’École Polytechnique without actually having to attending classes. This is particularly important to me because I think I’m on to something with Fermat’s theorem, but I want the feedback of some professors on my findings. I think my best bet in achieving this goal is to assume the identity of male when I send in my work. I’ve been playing around with potential pseudonyms. I’ve also talked to people that are attending the school now, and they’ve agreed to send me their notes from their classes in number theory. It’s not ideal, but this is the only way I can think of to pursue what I love sans public criticism.

À bientot,

Sophie Germain