Piccsy itibaren Singpur, Madhya Pradesh, Hindistan itibaren Singpur, Madhya Pradesh, Hindistan

Makes any dysfunctional family look normal.

Rereading; hoping for an interview with the author. Henrietta Lacks was a poor black woman from Clover, Virginia, and Baltimore who died of cervical cancer at Johns Hopkins Hospital in 1951. Shortly before she died, doctors removed cells from her cervix without her knowledge. In laboratory conditions, the cells began reproducing, which had happened before. But the cell line didn't quickly die out; instead it prospered. Soon there were millions of the cells, labeled HeLa, and then billions. That had never happened before. Hence the "immortal life" in the title. HeLa cells have been used in everything from creating polio vaccine to researching cures for AIDS. They've gone to outer space. They've been used in nuclear experiments. Vials of HeLa cells exist in virtually every medical research lab. But for decades, none of those researchers knew who Henrietta Lacks was, and her children and grandchildren had no notion of her cells' enormous contribution to medical science. Rebecca Skloot wasn't the first journalist to tell this story, but she did it in by far the most detail, and the fruits of her painstaking efforts are evident in this remarkable book. She tells two stories, really. The medical science story about HeLa cells is fascinating in itself. But the far more compelling story is about Henrietta's family, particularly her daughter Deborah. A couple of excerpts: Christoph reached into the freezer behind him, grabbed another vial of HeLa cells, and held it out to Deborah, his eyes soft. She stood stunned for a moment, staring into his outstretched hand, then grabbed the vial and began rubbing it fast between her palms, like she was warming herself in winter. "She's cold," Deborah said, cupping her hands and blowing onto the vial. Christoph motioned for us to follow him to the incubator where he warmed the cells, but Deborah didn't move. As Zakariyya and Christoph walked away, she raised the vial and touched it to her lips. "You're famous," she whispered. "Just nobody knows it." ... Sonny had a quintuple bypass in 2003, when he was fifty-six years old -- the last thing he remembered before falling unconscious under the anesthesia was a doctor standing over him saying his mother's cells were one of the most important things that had ever happened to medicine. Sonny woke up more than $125,000 in debt because he didn't have health insurance to cover the surgery.

This book has an introduction by Neil Gaiman...very cool. It was a easy and fun read. But my final verdict is that, well, it was ok. I liked it. But I didn't love it. The book starts out like this: Dinnie, an overweight enemy of humanity, was the worst violinist in New York, but was practicing gamely when two cute little fairies stumbled through his fourth-floor window and vomited on the carpet. The main story revolves around a couple of Scottish fairies who've run away and somehow ended up in New York City's Lower East Side. Heather and Morag, are sort of your typical fairies: they drink a lot, fight, play the music excellently, and get into all sorts of trouble....like angering the fairies in Harlem and Chinatown by robbing them. Most humans can't see the fairies but some do: including a few homeless people and a couple of lone souls in the East Village: Dinnie and Kerry. Dinnie has a crush on Kerry who lives across the street, but Dinnie is a pretty vile character. And Kerry is preoccupied with a horrible health problem while trying to win in an art competition. Also, as part of a bargain, Heather helps Dinnie try and win over Kerry. And Morag helps Kerry sabotage her ex's production of A Midsummer Night's Dream. Oh...and Kerry loves the New York Dolls and the ghost of Johnny Thunders is roaming the Village searching for his beloved guitar someone stole. Oh, and at some point there's a fairy war between the good fairies of New York and the Cornish fairies from England. Interesting, right? I liked Kerry. I could never stand Dinnie. And the fairies were pretty silly. It was funny and cute. But it just wasn't "wow" to me. I think it'd work better as maybe a graphic novel? Hmmm...not sure.

Makes me wish that I had read all of the authors that she discusses in this book. It's an interesting insight into the life of an intellectual under the Khomeini regime . . .

I love the art in this book.