Customer Reviews

The Monk in the Garden: The Lost and Found Genius of Gregor Mendel, the Father of Genetics

5 star:		(12)
4 star:		(1)
3 star:		(4)
2 star:		(5)
1 star:		(3)

 

 

I thought I had read enough nonfiction history books to know what to expect -- edifying, but not entertaining. This book blew those expectations out of the water. Chock-full of information, yes, but also liberally sprinkled with anecdotes and slices of life from the times surrounding Mendel and his rediscoverers. It's downright funny at times. I came away with an understanding of the birth of genetics that I'd even never known I was missing, not to mention a renewed interest in the field, without ever really realizing that I was reading a work of historical scholarship -- those are dry. This was fun.

As a gardener, I love the story of a monk who loves gardening founding the science of genetics -- and it's a good story. As a mother and sometimes teacher, I love the fact that Mendel was a lousy test-taker and didn't do well in school as a result -- and still became the founder of genetics.(He became a monk to get an education, as I recall--or was it to do his plant breeding work? I don't remember that detail.) At a time when overachievement is a sickness, this tale of a man who loves his numbers becoming obsessed about patterns in pea reproduction stumbling on the secret to a whole modern industry is tonic. And the whole second half of the book, which is the story about how his discoveries were lost and found and became the center of a story of science politics, are simply fascinating. I am a little puzzled at the reader who complained there was no original research. You don't even have to read the book to know the author went to Brno. On C-Span Books the author explained about how when she was at the monastery in Brno she learned about the "secret" door in the monastery's formal library and went through to the room in back where the monks actually studied and did their work -- and how it was from that window that they probably shouted out to Mendel in his garden, thereby explaining one piece of the puzzle about why people thought he fudged his numbers and why he probably didn't. Far more interesting to me, in some ways, was realizing that this was a time when religion supported science and science was something the average gardener could get involved in and would then talk about in a local talk -- in the days before people were glued to their tv sets -- when science and religion weren't seen as adversaries, as they appear to be in Kansas. A good read.

This book is a vivid picture of a not-so-vivid genius. Henig's ability to make her subject come alive is impressive. In a graceful and entertaining style, she shows his diligent, painstaking work and his very human qualities; there's nothing dry about this book. I particularly enjoyed the byways Henig took me down. She provides fascinating details about not only Mendel but also other scientists and scientific controversies, both during Mendel's life and afterwards. She sets the stage brilliantly, I think, and shows the repercussions of Mendel's work with lively portraits of men like Bateson and Weldon. I would recommend this book heartily, both to people in the field (such as my son, who is a geneticist) and to people who like a good read about a major figure and an important era in scientific history.

This is a terrific book, exquisitely timed. The race to decode the human genome has just been concluded (supposedly)--but how many of us have any clue about how and where the science of genetics originated? I knew of Mendel and had a vague sense of his role, but Henig's book tells the whole human story, and in terms that make the fundamentals of genetics easy to understand. To read this book is to gain a whole new sense of how chance and personality can sometimes yield discoveries that change the world, even if the true import of those discoveries at first goes unrealized. What I especially liked, however, were the insights into Mendel, the monk, a guy with a really bad case of test anxiety and a passion for practical jokes, flowers and, thankfully, peas. There's something very sweet about this book and, ultimately, very moving.

Henig provides a gripping account of the life and work of Gregor Mendel with just enough speculation to make this scientific biography read like a novel. After describing Mendel's work and his dissapointment in the lack of impact his results had during his own lifetime, she gives an account of the battles around Mendel's "rediscovery" that ranks among the best tales of cut-throat scientific intrigue. The author's appreciation for science and admiration for single-minded scientific genius and attention to detail shows throughout her account. She has a sound appreciation of both the promise and the ethical dilemmas provided by modern genetic discoveries (which she really only expounds upon in the final chapter). My only complaint would be that she provides no insight into the spiritual life of the "monk in the garden", something many readers might expect given the title of the book. I would recommend this book for anyone interested in the science, the history of science or the biography of outstanding individuals.

When I read 'The Monk in the Garden' last summer I immediately thought it would make a good text for the genetics senior seminar I regularly teach here at the University of North Carolina at Wilmington. Now, as the semester draws to an end, I'm happy to report that the seminar has been rated by me and and the students as one of best ever! (One student is so impressed that he's developing a web page for the seminar in fulfillment of a requirement in another course.) We attribute much of the seminar's appeal to Henig.s clever and suspenseful narration. I almost never repeat the same seminar topic, but I intend to do this one _at least one more time. dbp

This is a such wonderful a biography of Gregor Mendel, that I was startled to see so many 2 star ratings. It is easy to read and understand even if you lack a significant scientific education.

Rather than citing just the bare facts, Robin Marantz Henig writes like a novelist. She interweaves the scientific debates before, during, and after Mendel's time with the importance of his discovery. Mendel had no model to follow, no fellow researchers to encourage him, no context into which to put his research, and no vocabulary to describe the genetics he was documenting. His paper on the subject was largely ignored... and then rediscovered 35 years later.

Perhaps Mendel got a lucky break in choosing Moravian peas because their characteristics were readily identifiable. Or perhaps it is those characteristics, seed color, seed texture, plant height, that caused him find his work.

In modern times it can be seen as rather ironic that the initial work in genetics, the work that was needed to support Darwin, was developed by a monk in a monastery. But monks were the conservers of all the great ancient works. Their monasteries contained the libraries of Europe throughout the middle ages. The monks were the literate class. St. Augustine stated that you talk to God when you pray, but God talks to you when you read. And Mendel's monastery followed Augustinian doctrine.

That quiet isolation and contemplation may also have been essential to conducting the work. Growing and recording peas does not seem stimulating. Henig writes "By the time Mendel was done with this succession of crosses, recrosses, and backcrosses, he must have counted a total of more than 10,000 plants, 40,000 blossoms, and a staggering 300,000 peas."

Mandel had fragile psyche, which was both the cause and effect of his failures. He could not pass a qualifying exam that would allow him to teach high school. His test anxiety was so great that on his second attempt, he started just one question and gave up. He would take to his bed for months at a time. He and his work were ignored while others attained fame and the respect of the scientific community. And yet, despite disappointments and lack or recognition, Mendel persevered.

This is a biography well worth reading.

I have spent 10 years teaching high school biology, and as such a person, I have a reverence for poor Mendel strugling in his garden.

This book gave me insights into his work, and the work of those who followed, and thus gave me new insight into how to communicate the humanity of these surprised giants to my students; possible giants of the future.

This breezily written biography portrays not only Mendel but also his "rediscoverers" (Hugo de Vries, Karl Correns) and the scientists (Raphael Weldon, T. H. Morgan, and especially William Bateson) who, two decades after his death, quarreled over the applicability of his now-famous findings. Readers looking for an introduction to the science itself will be disappointed, however, since the book offers only a cursory introduction.

The biography is lean, because very little is known about Mendel himself. The author resorts to imagining probable scenes from his life: "In a corner of the monastery garden, Mendel huddled myopically over rows of greening plants." "His curly brown hair thinning around his widening face, Mendel sat at the oak writing table in the orangery, where the air was warm and lushly fragrant." You either enjoy this sort of thing, or you don't--but I can report that at least Henig does not invent dialogue.

By far the more interesting part of the book is the second half, which conveys the quarrels and intrigues by which Mendel and his publications were rediscovered and illuminated by a gaggle of ego-driven scientists bent on proving each other wrong. It's fun reading, if a little disheartening, but it's nice to know that the dead man wins. Overall, "The Monk in the Garden" is a decent historical introduction to the founding of genetics, but not much more.

It is easy to ignore Mendel. Genetics as a science is exploding with new data and ideas almost daily. And, it is not just the science that understandably captures our interest. The scientists themselves have drawn attention from biographers and historians who have churned out volumes on those working in the field today. The life and personalities of Watson and Crick, more recently Craig Venter of Celera, and others attract media notice, quite independent of their work and scientific contributions. Against contemporary practioners,the life and times of a patience, deliberative and plodding monk just can't seem to compete for air time. But, before you conclude that Mendel is the C-SPAN of genetics, read The Monk in the Garden. In this well-written and graceful volume by Robin Marantz Henig, the complexity of Mendel's life emerges fully. Fraught with insecurity; beleagured almost throughout his life by a depression that could leave him immobilized; ignored by jealous rivals: Henig's Mendel can capture the attention of contemporary readers every bit as much as the scientists currently standing on his shoulders. After all, as Henig writes, "Had he not made that start, however tentative, who can say how genetics would have begun instead -- or even when." The Monk in the Garden is worth knowing.