A Monk And Two Peas: The Story Of Gregor Mendel And The Discovery: The Story of Gregor Mendel and the Discovery of Genetics Book

A Monk and Two Peas is a further addition to the raft of chunkily packaged little episodes from the history of scientific discovery bobbing hopefully in the wake of Dava Sobell's Longitude. It is the story of Gregor Mendel, the Silesian monk who in the mid-19th century single-handedly discovered the rules governing the modern science of genetics--which were then forgotten until years after his death. Little beyond its outline is known of Mendel's life, and nothing survives of his work except two published papers--no notes, no experimental records. Mendel evidently planted his peas, recorded the results and deduced from them the principles of heritability (how he actually proceeded is the subject of considerable debate). In the end, he appears to have been persuaded by a colleague, whose motives we cannot now recover, that his work was of little worth. That's the story and it's an absorbing lesson in how important discoveries can go unnoticed until, for whatever reason, their time comes round. But it also means that the first part of the book, which is an account of Mendel's life and work, would be pretty sparse had Henig not elected to pad it out with a great deal of speculative, semi-fictional scene-painting of the "Mendel must have thought, as he paced between the rows of peas..." variety. One entire account of an uneventful journey London seems to have been included solely to provide a context for an imaginary conversation between Darwin and Mendel (Darwin shaking his head over his poor understanding of inheritance and wishing he had Mendel's help). Henig admits it is "very unlikely" this conversation took place. The second part of the book deals with the controversies that followed the rediscovery of Mendel's work at the beginning of the 20th century. Here too, although Henig has more material she cannot resist a flourish. The geneticist William Bateson, prime mover on behalf of Mendel, moves to Grantchester: cue a quote from Rupert Brooke and an account of his death. Readers must decide whether they find this kind of thing helpful. The rather windy belle-lettrism evaporates when Henig gets into the science: her writing firms up and there is genuine excitement in following Mendel's patient unravelling of the complex rules of inheritance through dominant and recessive genes. So too there is drama in the battles of Bateson and his followers and opponents as they struggle to establish a physical mechanism to support Mendel's findings. Throughout the book, Henig deftly sketches in the background of scientific discovery and controversy against which the story takes place. --Robin DavidsonRead More