Relationship Spotlight: Calvin Evans & Elizabeth Zott (Lessons in Chemistry)

*Spoilers.*

Okay, one more Lessons in Chemistry post for now. I liked the show a lot, and as I’ve said, I understand why the story takes the turn it does, why we end up seeing Elizabeth make her way through the world on her own. But at the same time, my favorite part of the show, hands-down, is Elizabeth, Calvin, and the interactions between them. Their relationship smacked me in the face in the best way.

I’ll start with a quality that frequently comes up in my favorite fictional romances: we see how and why they like each other. Elizabeth and Calvin are both attractive people, and we’re shown how people around them respond to that, from other chemists at the university sexualizing Elizabeth to secretaries wanting to “bag” the famous genius Calvin. But even though both have people propositioning them for different reasons, they’re both disinterested in those sorts of attentions, and when they meet each other, looks and status don’t factor into it.

Things begin badly, when Elizabeth swipes some supplies from Calvin’s private lab and he makes some ignorant assumptions about her. Once he realizes his mistake, she rebuffs his attempts to apologize. It takes an unexpected encounter to resent things between them. When Calvin the midst of an allergic reaction to someone’s perfume, throws up on Elizabeth’s dress, she drives him home, and after that, they’re able to begin again on more neutral footing.

For them, love begins with science. They spend hours discussing Elizabeth’s research. There’s a lovely montage of Elizabeth starting to pack extra sumptuous food to share her lunch with the perpetually too-distracted-to-eat Calvin, and they dine together while looking over formulas. He calls her up after hours to discuss new ideas, and she gets so wrapped up in them that she accidentally burns her dinner.

When Calvin suggests that they work together, moving Elizabeth to his lab so she can conduct her research in a more official capacity, she’s wary. She’s depressingly aware that, as a man, he would be assumed to be the brains behind her work, and she doesn’t want to be granted favors out of any unprofessional motives. They agree that they’ll be colleagues, nothing more. And when Calvin realizes he’s developing feelings for her, I love that he explains that to her, alongside an apology for not abiding to the terms of their agreement. Another quality I love in my favorite fictional couples—they talk things over. Rather than pine after her, try to get Elizabeth to change her mind, or give her some sort of ultimatum, Calvin just tells her how he’s feeling and then leaves it up to her to admit she’s developing feelings for him too.

I love the give and take of their relationship. At first, working together is tough for them because, while their scientific knowledge/interests wind along very similar paths, their structural and sensory needs are very different. Calvin can’t find anything after Elizabeth organizes his lab, they argue about his messiness, and it’s hard for Elizabeth to focus while Calvin is playing the jazz records he needs in order to think. One, this is a great example of two autistic-coded people with opposing needs. And two, they once again talk it over and find ways to make it work. Calvin keeps his cracker crumbs and peanut shells far away from their equipment, and they trade off records on alternating days, so they both have an opportunity to listen to the music that’s most helpful to them.

I love that Calvin’s Christmas surprise for Elizabeth is cooking dinner for her. I love that she’s bowled over by this effort and affection, even if she has a full mental list of constructive criticism on his meal. I love that they get one another in a way that no one else does, and that even when they can’t understand each other, each makes space for the other and is ready to listen until it makes sense. I love that their relationship is built on shared interests, on affection that’s shared entirely in their own way, and on honesty and vulnerability.

It can’t last—if Calvin had survived, the story would be completely different—but while they’re together, the relationship is so, so good for both of them. Even though they don’t get their happily ever after, it makes me happy to know they found each other and shared their lives together for the time that they had.

Neurodivergent (Headcanon) Alley: Calvin Evans (Lessons in Chemistry)

*Calvin-related spoilers.*

After my mom read Lessons in Chemistry, she told me that she thought Elizabeth could be read as autistic. When we started watching the miniseries together, by the end of episode 1 I was exclaiming, “You didn’t tell me he was autistic too!” I positively basked in these characters and their relationship, and while I understand why the story takes the turns it does, I could’ve watched ten seasons of the “Elizabeth and Calvin Fall in Love and Do Science” show.

One of the most interesting things about the autistic coding in this show is how Elizabeth and Calvin are so alike and also so different. While Elizabeth starts the series generally keeping her head down but giving her unvarnished opinion when the subject arises, Calvin is regarded around the universe as rude, self-involved, and eccentric. He has a lot of particularities that people make allowances for, because he’s a brilliant/famous man, and he gets pretty much whatever he wants. But to the discerning eye, it’s quickly apparent it’s not his intention to be selfish or rude.

Calvin loses himself entirely in his work, but he needs a certain environment to make that happen. He has his own lab where he works alone, constantly playing jazz music to help him think. He doesn’t want others coming into his space, in part because of his intense allergies/sensory sensitivities to scents. When he’s in the zone, he forgets to eat, subsisting on peanuts and crackers. When he’s blunt and impolite to others, it’s because his mind is going in a thousand directions and he doesn’t have any brainpower left for social niceties.

By the way, Calvin is probably ADHD as well. He needs a lot of stimulation to focus his thoughts—besides the unpredictability of the jazz music, he also jogs in an era when that’s not really a thing and is a dedicated rower. Exercise is his first recourse when things don’t make sense to him. When Elizabeth pulls away from him, he doesn’t know what he did wrong—in his excitement over a breakthrough, he forgot that she needs the door kept open and didn’t listen to her panicked insistence on opening it—and the next time she seeks him out, he’s playing hooky from the university to row nonstop on the erg in his garage, trying to work out his confusion and frustration.

It's true that Calvin has absorbed some of the sexist attitudes of the society around him. When he first discovers that Elizabeth entered his lab to swipe some of his supplies, he assumes that she’s a secretary sent by another lab to do their dirty work. But those attitudes aren’t ingrained in him—as soon as he gets better/more complete information, he quickly reverses his previous thoughts and apologizes to Elizabeth for his ignorance. Likewise, he’s passively unaware of sex discrimination in the sciences, but once Elizabeth points it out to him, he immediately gets on board with the unfairness of it. This, to me, is a very autistic trait as well. Not only is it driven by information and an appreciation for justice rather than prejudice, but it also flies in the face of social norms. As Calvin learns about the barriers women face, it’s the most natural thing in the world for him to agree that it’s wrong and push back against anyone who thinks otherwise.

I just…he stims, he’s barely aware of his surroundings when he’s busy thinking, he gives his honest thoughts on everything, he calls Elizabeth up after hours to talk about science. All-around spectacular character—I need so much more of him!

Neurodivergent (Headcanon) Alley: Elizabeth Zott (Lessons in Chemistry)

*Elizabeth-related spoilers.*

I’m mainly going to be talking about the miniseries here. From what I’ve read so far of the book, Elizabeth is heavily implied to be autistic there as well, and the show leans into those traits even more. I love Brie Larson’s precise, complicated, very human performance as this excellent character.

Now, it’s hardly a stretch to code a scientific genius as autistic, so much so that neurodivergent folks sometimes urge studios to offer representation of autistic characters who aren’t brilliant. But as I’ve said before, I’m less interested in whether something is a stereotype than whether it’s portrayed well and honestly. I of course want variety in my stories and representation, but familiar tropes can still ring true if there’s real feeling behind them. And I feel that with Elizabeth.

Just the fact that Elizabeth is a woman makes her different than the usual stereotype, and the 1950s period setting adds a new wrinkle as well. In a way, it makes sense that a woman who’s determined to be pursue science in a male-dominated field that’s hostile to her presence would be autistic. She has some awareness of social norms but little use for them, and her passionate special interest in chemistry is enough to carry her through all the infuriating microaggressions she has to put up with at work. What Elizabeth is “supposed” to do, what her place in society is meant to be, doesn’t matter to her—she follows just enough of the rules to stay employed, but otherwise, she’s forging her own version of what life can look like. I’ve previously said that there’s something deeply neurodivergent about going against social conventions to do what your mind and your soul need you to.

Elizabeth is blunt and factual in a way that many people find off-putting, impertinent, or just unusual. In a world where women are meant to be ornamental and accommodating, she speaks her mind and isn’t one to smile when she doesn’t want to. She’s frequently flat facing and speaks in a fast, precise near-monotone, but what I love about Larson’s performance is that Elizabeth is in no way “robotic.” She’s not often demonstrative with her emotions, but it’s clear that she’s feeling them—and feeling them deeply, even if she can’t express or articulate them.

She’s soothed by routine and order, keeping a neat lab and, once she starts Supper at Six, an uncluttered kitchen. This makes it all the more difficult for her when her life is repeatedly upended by change, much of it incredibly traumatic: the sexual assault that stalls her education, Calvin’s sudden death, the scientist who never wanted children realizing she’s about to be an unwed mother. For a woman who craves control in her life, to the point that she makes the same lasagna dozens of times to explore every variable, these monumental challenges constantly set her adrift. There are times when she doesn’t know how or if she’ll find her way back. But she’s incredibly determined, fiercely independent, and supremely resourceful. Whether that means reading the employee handbook cover to cover to ensure there’s no specific rule against pregnancy, building a lab in her kitchen when the university fires her anyway, or calculating her exact value to her TV network as proof that they can’t retaliate against her for bucking their directives, Elizabeth figures out how to wrest back a bit of control for herself. She relies on logical arguments and draws from a deep well of frustration, refusing to conform in a society that would punish her for going against the grain.

I can already tell you that my next Neurodivergent Alley is going to be about Calvin, who is also super autistic-coded but not really in the same way. I love that for him, for Elizabeth, and for me, and I’m looking forward to writing more about it!