Hers is an overtly feminist approach to her subject and, given the appalling bigotry revealed in the book, she could easily have descended into self-righteous anger. These excesses are particularly annoying given Goldsmith's restraint elsewhere. 'Now, a newfound celebrity brought with it a cornucopia full of their greatest desires.'

There are also occasional flights of literary hyperventilation unworthy of a writer of Goldsmith's quality: 'In the past, Marie and Pierre had fought prejudice, neglect, cynicism,' she tells us.

She confuses 'astrological' with 'astronomical' describes early models of the atomic nucleus in various nutty ways (electron plum puddings) and includes the suggestion that 'invisible rays could be detected by the light they caused in a tube'. It is only really marred by the odd outburst that reveals how uncomfortable the author is with technological terminology, a serious flaw for a scientific biographer.

I can only say it made me wary, though in the end, I was won over by Obsessive Genius which is carefully conceived and commendably brief. The approach of Goldsmith, a member of the commission on the celebration of women in American history, is to pursue 'the real woman', she tells us. Such achievements provide more than enough material for any biography, though given the number already written about the discoverer of radioactivity (Susan Quinn's Marie Curie: A Life in 1995 is a fine example), any new offering has a struggle to justify its existence.

Obsessive genius marie curie