A Review of Bonnie Garmus’s Lessons in Chemistry

Elizabeth Zott is a chemist whose mind is too vast and too brilliant to fit the constraints of the society she is born into. It’s the 1950s, and instead of rising deservedly to the upper echelons of the scientific community she has fought so hard to enter, she finds herself the subject of her male colleagues’ ire, disdain, and unchecked desire. Fired unjustly from the lab where she works, Elizabeth becomes the reluctant star of a hit TV show, where her unconventional take on cooking classes shines a light on the achievements and sacrifices of the “average” housewife.

Dark Days for Women

I found this book difficult to read precisely because it was so well-written. Like many outstanding works of historical fiction, it adds more depth and nuance to a period of history commonly overlooked or misunderstood—in this case, the ’50s and ’60s in America, which are often regarded as a prosperous postwar period. Lessons in Chemistry is breathtaking and brutal in its portrayal of an extraordinary woman who experiences terribly ordinary blowback for daring to challenge the status quo.

While the mid-1900s have long come and gone, the many ugly consequences of Elizabeth’s decisions and interactions explode out of the pages throughout the book. She’s an unwed mother, her scientific achievements far outpace those of her male colleagues, and she routinely uses logical thinking to challenge the misconception that women are inferior to men and that housewives’ sacrifices don’t matter. This makes her the target of insults, threats, theft, and even sexual assault from men who resent her. For all the admirable resilience she displays throughout the book, a dense fog of sorrow and resentment hangs over it.

The clash between Elizabeth’s personality and the unfriendly culture around her is tragic enough, but what truly looms in the background of the book is her grief over the death of her partner, Calvin.

The Unlikely, Strange, and Wonderful

Despite the dark aspects of the book, it still brims with moments of humor and charm; Elizabeth Zott and her neighbor friend, Harriet Sloane, both have these qualities in spades, and their blossoming friendship is quite touching. I love this sassy train of thought from Harriet, who finds ways to maintain her sense of power despite her unhappy marriage to the distasteful Mr. Sloane:

Elizabeth’s friendship with Hariett helps her overcome isolation during her daughter’s early childhood and gives her cause to fight for women’s rights through the medium of television. I also adored Elizabeth’s scraggly mutt, “Six-Thirty,” whose canine perspective is woven throughout the book with unexpected wisdom and a stream of new vocabulary words. Sure, it’s absurd that a dog could become so “well-read” and exhibit such intelligent behaviors, but perhaps the point the author is making is that if it is—was—considered normal and realistic for women to be treated with such repression, why not let our imaginations run wild and give a dog superior mental faculties?

Six-Thirty greeting Elizabeth’s daughter, Madeleine “Mad” Zott, for the first time, is by far one of the most heartwarming moments in the book:

Lessons in Life and Science

In addition to its compelling commentary on the status of women during the years in which the book takes place, the characters face situations and chance encounters that raise philosophical questions and moral quandaries. Science versus religion, the legitimacy of believing in a higher power, and the meaning of family and lineage are all uncovered with wit and deep reflection. These are heavy topics to take on, but they are explored through characters that are lovingly fallible. The Reverend Wakely, for example, experiences a conflict between faith and religion that later leads to his extended correspondence with Calvin Evans and integration into Elizabeth’s family.

So while Elizabeth teaches simple chemistry lessons onscreen, some of the most profound realizations in the book are arrived at offscreen, among ordinary characters who find that their lives are transformed by her presence.

With too many interesting characters to name, a captivating cultural setting, and a humorous, yet profound investigation of deep moral issues that plague Americans even to this day, Lessons in Chemistry delivers a simmering beaker’s worth of insights and ideas. I found it amazing that such a simple premise—a female scientist fighting to be taken seriously in an unfriendly world—could yield so many incredible subplots. I highly recommend Lessons in Chemistry to fiction lovers, social scientists, and everyone in between.