Avoid Boring People Part 6

When I arrived in London, I immediately phoned my old friend Peter Pauling to suggest he bring along for a fun lunch the highly intelligent, suede-jacketed Louise Johnson. She, like Peter, was working on her Ph.D. at the Royal Inst.i.tution, then presided over by Sir Lawrence Bragg. A month before, I had met Louise at a biophysics meeting at Queen Elizabeth College, learning that she worked on the structure of lysozyme with David Phillips. To my delight, Peter at the last moment got her and the equally young crystallographer Tony North to join us at Wheeler's Restaurant on Dover Street. Showing them my ma.n.u.script, I told them its novel-like construction necessarily led me in the opening chapters to portray Sir Lawrence in an unflattering way. I confessed now hesitating to show it to Sir Lawrence even though, more than a year before, he had suggested that I write my side of how the double helix was found. He had been worried at the time that Francis was getting too much of the credit for our big breakthrough. How to have him read my ma.n.u.script without infuriating him was a problem that stumped all of us until Tony's sudden brainstorm. Why not invite Sir Lawrence to write the book's foreword? By so doing, both he and I would come out on top.

I could not make that request of Sir Lawrence until March, after the conclusion of my six-week tour of East Africa, sponsored by the Ford Foundation. The trip was arranged at the last moment by Charlie Wyzanski, who, as a trustee, had recently been there looking at the foundation's African operations. The East African offices were in Nairobi, and I flew there in a BOAC VC-10, first cla.s.s, as senior Ford Foundation staff traveled. Sitting next to me was a woman who asked to see the Honest Jim Honest Jim ma.n.u.script that I had by my side. This she read in two hours, telling me she could not put it down. After going on to give three lectures at Makerere University in Kampala, Uganda, Frank Sutton, the former Harvard junior fellow, joined me on a trip to see how foundation monies directed toward wildlife conservation were being used. First we stopped at Queen Elizabeth Park, on Lake Edward, above which the Mountain of the Moon rose into the clouds. Later, we were surrounded by hippos and crocodiles, while an old-fas.h.i.+oned, ma.n.u.script that I had by my side. This she read in two hours, telling me she could not put it down. After going on to give three lectures at Makerere University in Kampala, Uganda, Frank Sutton, the former Harvard junior fellow, joined me on a trip to see how foundation monies directed toward wildlife conservation were being used. First we stopped at Queen Elizabeth Park, on Lake Edward, above which the Mountain of the Moon rose into the clouds. Later, we were surrounded by hippos and crocodiles, while an old-fas.h.i.+oned, African Queen-like African Queen-like boat took us to the base of Murchison Falls, over which the White Nile cascades down. boat took us to the base of Murchison Falls, over which the White Nile cascades down.

Also staying at the Makerere Faculty Club was the Oxford-educated writer V. S. Naipaul, who, over several breakfasts, showed no interest in the fact that I too was generating English prose. Around the swimming pool, stand-offish in a quite different way, was the pet.i.te, well-shaped daughter of Donald Soper, the prominent English Methodist. Caroline betrayed no desire to learn from Honest Jim Honest Jim how Cambridge science moved. She was only there babysitting her sister's children while her Cambridge brother-in-law gave physiology lectures to Makerere students. They followed their Cambridge equivalents in wearing academic gowns in their dining hall, a custom I honored on several evenings, to my discomfort. how Cambridge science moved. She was only there babysitting her sister's children while her Cambridge brother-in-law gave physiology lectures to Makerere students. They followed their Cambridge equivalents in wearing academic gowns in their dining hall, a custom I honored on several evenings, to my discomfort.

Upon the conclusion of my African lectures, which also took me to Tanzania, Sudan, and Ethiopia, I made Geneva my main base until my sabbatical ended in late May. From there I went twice to London, the first time to give Sir Lawrence my ma.n.u.script and tell him that Harvard University Press wanted to publish it. On my second visit to his Royal Inst.i.tution top-floor flat, I waited nervously outside until upon entering he put me at ease, saying that by writing the foreword he could not sue me for libel. Later I learned that his initial reaction to my ma.n.u.script was, as feared, one of white-hot anger but that his wife, Alice, had cooled him down. Immediately I had Tom Wilson officially inform Bragg about HUP's publication plans. Within a month, Bragg delivered his crisp, elegant foreword saying I wrote with a Pepys-like frankness. Feeling that I had a book that I could now publish, I sent the ma.n.u.script to Francis asking for comments about its accuracy.

I also gave Honest Jim Honest Jim to my friend of many years Janet Stewart, then an editor at Andre Deutsch, to see whether they would like to consider it for British publication. Janet and I had first met in Cambridge when she was up at Girton College. Now married to the barrister Ben Whitaker, she had been in publis.h.i.+ng in New York before returning to England as an editor with Deutsch. She and her husband lived on Chester Row and over dinner I gave them news of Bragg's foreword. Several days later I went to Deutsch's offices on Great Russell Street, where Janet introduced me to her Hungarian-born boss and uncomfortably looked on as he offered me a 250 advance. I politely replied I would pa.s.s his offer on to Harvard University Press director Tom Wilson. Later I told Tom to find a British publisher who understood that scientists are not indifferent to money. to my friend of many years Janet Stewart, then an editor at Andre Deutsch, to see whether they would like to consider it for British publication. Janet and I had first met in Cambridge when she was up at Girton College. Now married to the barrister Ben Whitaker, she had been in publis.h.i.+ng in New York before returning to England as an editor with Deutsch. She and her husband lived on Chester Row and over dinner I gave them news of Bragg's foreword. Several days later I went to Deutsch's offices on Great Russell Street, where Janet introduced me to her Hungarian-born boss and uncomfortably looked on as he offered me a 250 advance. I politely replied I would pa.s.s his offer on to Harvard University Press director Tom Wilson. Later I told Tom to find a British publisher who understood that scientists are not indifferent to money.

Tom's choice proved also to be Hungarian, the portly, astute George Weidenfeld, said to be an inspiration for Kingsley Amis's novel One Fat Englishman. One Fat Englishman. His publis.h.i.+ng house, Weidenfeld and Nicolson, had recently gained notoriety by publis.h.i.+ng His publis.h.i.+ng house, Weidenfeld and Nicolson, had recently gained notoriety by publis.h.i.+ng Lolita, Lolita, which had cost Nigel Nicolson his seat in the House of Commons (though it apparently did not interfere with Weidenfeld's being created a life peer in 1976). Tom sent which had cost Nigel Nicolson his seat in the House of Commons (though it apparently did not interfere with Weidenfeld's being created a life peer in 1976). Tom sent Honest Jim Honest Jim to George in time to let him read it before I pa.s.sed through London in mid-July on my way to a scientific meeting in Greece. Then Weidenfeld and Nicolson had offices above Bond Street. George himself lived in an Eaton Square flat whose high ceilings let him optimally display his large canvases, which soon included a Francis Bacon. Wasting few words, George offered me a $10,000 advance, half payable upon signing his contract, the other upon my book's publication. Immediately I accepted, asking him to send the contract to Tom Wilson to see that its terms were compatible with those in the contract I was about to sign with HUP. to George in time to let him read it before I pa.s.sed through London in mid-July on my way to a scientific meeting in Greece. Then Weidenfeld and Nicolson had offices above Bond Street. George himself lived in an Eaton Square flat whose high ceilings let him optimally display his large canvases, which soon included a Francis Bacon. Wasting few words, George offered me a $10,000 advance, half payable upon signing his contract, the other upon my book's publication. Immediately I accepted, asking him to send the contract to Tom Wilson to see that its terms were compatible with those in the contract I was about to sign with HUP.

By then Francis had let me know he did not like the t.i.tle Honest Jim, Honest Jim, its implication to him being that I alone was hawking the gospel truth. That one would hardly make such an a.s.sumption buying a used car from "Honest Francis," or even from "Honest Jesus," did not budge him. So I changed the t.i.tle to its implication to him being that I alone was hawking the gospel truth. That one would hardly make such an a.s.sumption buying a used car from "Honest Francis," or even from "Honest Jesus," did not budge him. So I changed the t.i.tle to Base Pairs, Base Pairs, aware that this pun by itself might lead to a libel suit caused by a jacket cover with Francis and me and of Maurice and Rosalind staring at each other a la aware that this pun by itself might lead to a libel suit caused by a jacket cover with Francis and me and of Maurice and Rosalind staring at each other a la Kind Hearts and Coronets. Kind Hearts and Coronets. Though Tom Wilson wanted me to use my third choice, Though Tom Wilson wanted me to use my third choice, The Double Helix, The Double Helix, he went along with he went along with Base Pairs Base Pairs on the t.i.tle page of an only mildly revised ma.n.u.script sent to Francis, Maurice, John Kendrew, and Peter Pauling, together with forms to sign saying they had no objections to HUP's publis.h.i.+ng my ma.n.u.script. on the t.i.tle page of an only mildly revised ma.n.u.script sent to Francis, Maurice, John Kendrew, and Peter Pauling, together with forms to sign saying they had no objections to HUP's publis.h.i.+ng my ma.n.u.script.

We should have realized that neither Francis nor Maurice would see any advantage in giving permission to publish material that they felt not only failed to serve the public interest but also harmed them. Too soon their response came through a high-powered attorney, who wrote President Pusey of his clients' contention that they were libeled by my ma.n.u.script. They employed the same lawyer that Jacqueline Kennedy had unsuccessfully used to block publication of The Death of a President, The Death of a President, William Manchester's book on her husband's a.s.sa.s.sination. Both Tom Wilson and I noted that this New York hired gun was careful not to specify that William Manchester's book on her husband's a.s.sa.s.sination. Both Tom Wilson and I noted that this New York hired gun was careful not to specify that he he considered my book libelous. Nevertheless, we feared that President Pusey would feel himself involved in something untoward, and Tom later unilaterally decided that HUP would move ahead only with the Harvard president's approval. considered my book libelous. Nevertheless, we feared that President Pusey would feel himself involved in something untoward, and Tom later unilaterally decided that HUP would move ahead only with the Harvard president's approval.

I also should have realized that Peter Pauling would feel a filial duty to send my ma.n.u.script to his father. After reading it, Linus fired off an angry letter to Tom Wilson calling Base Pairs Base Pairs "a disgraceful example of malevolence and egocentricity" He wrote demanding that I remove the lines "Linus's screwy chemistry" and "Linus looking like an a.s.s." These were phrases I knew good taste would lead me to delete before the ma.n.u.script went to the printer. But since they were true, I was loath to remove them before absolutely necessary. In a similar vein, I never should have sent out a ma.n.u.script saying that Francis had never been a member of any college because he was thought to pinch other people's ideas. By this I only intended to convey the reason why King's, to their great loss, had not made Francis a fellow despite his unquestioned brilliance. "a disgraceful example of malevolence and egocentricity" He wrote demanding that I remove the lines "Linus's screwy chemistry" and "Linus looking like an a.s.s." These were phrases I knew good taste would lead me to delete before the ma.n.u.script went to the printer. But since they were true, I was loath to remove them before absolutely necessary. In a similar vein, I never should have sent out a ma.n.u.script saying that Francis had never been a member of any college because he was thought to pinch other people's ideas. By this I only intended to convey the reason why King's, to their great loss, had not made Francis a fellow despite his unquestioned brilliance.

Already Tom Wilson had a.s.signed his editor Joyce Leibowitz the task of working with me to make the ma.n.u.script less objectionable to the story's princ.i.p.als, at the same time preserving its aim to tell what really happened. Joyce had the wit to see that my story would benefit from an epilogue saying that my descriptions of Rosalind Franklin did not do justice to her scientific accomplishments while at King's. Also helping me was the bright literature major Libby Aldrich, who, like Dolly Garter, had taken George Wald's natural science biology course. Libby then was writing her senior thesis on Sylvia Plath, whom I remembered scurrying along King's Parade in Cambridge in the mid-1950s.

Soon after receiving the Base Pairs Base Pairs ma.n.u.script, John Kendrew took it to J. D. Bernal, who wrote him saying, "I could not put it down.... Considered as a novel of the history of science as it should be written, it is unequaled. It is as exciting as ma.n.u.script, John Kendrew took it to J. D. Bernal, who wrote him saying, "I could not put it down.... Considered as a novel of the history of science as it should be written, it is unequaled. It is as exciting as Martin Arrowsmith." Martin Arrowsmith." While a.s.serting his opinion that I was unfair to the contributions of Rosalind Franklin and noting that I did not even mention the work of Sven Furberg, both from Bernal's lab, he offered the following comment: "Watson and Crick did a magnificent job, but in the process were forced to make enormous mistakes which they had the skill to correct in time. The whole thing is a disgraceful expose of the stupidity of great scientists' discoveries. My verdict would be the lines of Hilaire Belloc: While a.s.serting his opinion that I was unfair to the contributions of Rosalind Franklin and noting that I did not even mention the work of Sven Furberg, both from Bernal's lab, he offered the following comment: "Watson and Crick did a magnificent job, but in the process were forced to make enormous mistakes which they had the skill to correct in time. The whole thing is a disgraceful expose of the stupidity of great scientists' discoveries. My verdict would be the lines of Hilaire Belloc: And is it True? It is not True.

And if it were it wouldn't do."

I was also encouraged by a letter from the Hungarian-born imrau-nologist George Klein. During his late fall visit to Harvard Medical School, my father prepared Sunday lunch at 10 Appian Way for the three of us. George left with a copy of Base Pairs Base Pairs to read on the plane back to Stockholm. From the Karolinska Inst.i.tutet he sent a letter saying that I had written "an unparalleled description of the excitements, the frustration, the greatness, and the smallness of creative research students.... You should expect a hostile backlash from most scientists; you should not try to soften your book, have it printed as it is or not at all." to read on the plane back to Stockholm. From the Karolinska Inst.i.tutet he sent a letter saying that I had written "an unparalleled description of the excitements, the frustration, the greatness, and the smallness of creative research students.... You should expect a hostile backlash from most scientists; you should not try to soften your book, have it printed as it is or not at all."

Over three winter months, I continually made minor changes to correct misstatements of fact or personal intent, particularly as enlightened by Francis and Sir Lawrence Bragg. Again using Honest Jim Honest Jim as the t.i.tle, I worried that Francis and Maurice's objections would lead Sir Lawrence to withdraw his foreword, and I wrote to him that I would understand if he saw fit to do so. On April 19 he replied that he would be very sorry if it came to that, but that he also wished to state categorically that his contribution was contingent on my making certain changes, in particular, one correcting my misstatement that Perutz and Kendrew told him they would leave Cavendish if Crick was fired. In conclusion, he "wished the book every success." At the same time, John Maddox, the editor of as the t.i.tle, I worried that Francis and Maurice's objections would lead Sir Lawrence to withdraw his foreword, and I wrote to him that I would understand if he saw fit to do so. On April 19 he replied that he would be very sorry if it came to that, but that he also wished to state categorically that his contribution was contingent on my making certain changes, in particular, one correcting my misstatement that Perutz and Kendrew told him they would leave Cavendish if Crick was fired. In conclusion, he "wished the book every success." At the same time, John Maddox, the editor of Nature, Nature, found nothing libelous in the newest found nothing libelous in the newest Honest Jim. Honest Jim. In fact, he believed it to be much less dodgy than earlier reported to him: "In other words, I would like to see it published." But when that occurs, he said, "you will have to barricade yourself in for six months or so." In fact, he believed it to be much less dodgy than earlier reported to him: "In other words, I would like to see it published." But when that occurs, he said, "you will have to barricade yourself in for six months or so."

Both Maurice and Francis continued to oppose Honest Jim Honest Jim in every way possible. Ina letter, Maurice reminded me of having written when I sent him my first draft, "You might think you have reason to shoot me." Now Maurice worried that "his letter would make me want to shoot him." In it he suggested that I abandon any thought of publis.h.i.+ng my book intact but instead have its science pa.s.sages incorporated in the forthcoming book of historian Robert Olby on the double helix. in every way possible. Ina letter, Maurice reminded me of having written when I sent him my first draft, "You might think you have reason to shoot me." Now Maurice worried that "his letter would make me want to shoot him." In it he suggested that I abandon any thought of publis.h.i.+ng my book intact but instead have its science pa.s.sages incorporated in the forthcoming book of historian Robert Olby on the double helix.

Contributions emerging from tape recordings of himself, Francis, Erwin Chargaff, and Pauling were also expected to appear in Olby's book.

Francis's five-page letter of April 13 started out saying that the new version was a little better but his basic objections were the same: "Your book is not good history;" "You did not doc.u.ment your a.s.sertions (with appropriate references)... displaying the history of science as gossip;" "Your view of the history of science is found in the lower cla.s.s of women's magazines;" "If instead considered as autobiography, it is misleading and in bad taste;" "The fact a man is well known does not excuse his friends from respecting his privacy while he is alive;" "The only exception should be when private matters are of direct public concern like with Mrs. Simpson and King Edward;" "Your book is vulgar popularization which is indefensible." On the next-to-last page, Francis raised the stakes. A psychiatrist to whom he gave the ma.n.u.script reportedly said, "The book could only be made by a man who hates women." Another shrink concluded that I loved my sister to excess, "a fact much discussed by your friends while you were working in Cambridge, but so far they have refrained from writing about." On the last page, Francis noted copies of his letter were being sent to, among others, Bragg, Pauling, and Pusey A month later, Nathan Pusey told Harvard University Press that it could not publish my book, saying, "Harvard did not want to be involved in fights between scientists." Libel considerations were likely not involved but no foundation for such objections seems to have been established in any case. Some months before, at a party dominated by Harvard Law students, a recent law school graduate told me that he was reading my ma.n.u.script for Ropes and Grey, Harvard's Boston lawyers, explaining that he had no past experience with libel matters. Once I learned that HUP was out, Joyce Leibowitz suggested I retain as my personal counsel the New York lawyer Ephraim London. A greatly respected legal scholar, Eph had successfully argued several freedom-of-speech cases before the United States Supreme Court. A tall, thin man with connections to publis.h.i.+ng going back several decades, Eph had been Simon and Schuster's house counsel. Upon reading my ma.n.u.script, he said it contained no libel.

Already I had a new publisher, the newly formed Atheneum Press, started by Pat Knopf, son of the famous publisher Alfred A. Knopf, and Simon Michael Bessie. I chose it to stay with Tom Wilson, who was resigning as director of Harvard University Press to join Atheneum. Tom's leaving HUP had nothing to do with Pusey's decision to block my book. The decision had been made beforehand, in response to his approaching HUP's compulsory retirement age. Tom's children were still young and he needed a well-paid job into the foreseeable future. Ironically, only because HUP was not publis.h.i.+ng my book could I continue to enjoy the rea.s.surance of having Tom at my side. Lawrence Bragg, confident of Tom's integrity, let his preface stand. Fearing a libel action if not a pet.i.tion for an injunction against Honest Jim's Honest Jim's publication, Atheneum retained the New York lawyer Alan Schwartz, whom William Manchester had used to defend against Jacqueline Kennedy's libel suit. publication, Atheneum retained the New York lawyer Alan Schwartz, whom William Manchester had used to defend against Jacqueline Kennedy's libel suit.

I met with him and Tom Wilson several times before Eph London came into the picture to tell Schwartz that the changes he wanted were unnecessary, as Honest Jim Honest Jim was neither libelous nor an unwarranted invasion of privacy. Many of Schwartz's suggestions would blunt intended candor. His accepted version of the first sentence, "I can't ever remember seeing Francis Crick in a modest mood," could only have been written by a timid lawyer. In a few cases, he wanted harmless subst.i.tutions such as was neither libelous nor an unwarranted invasion of privacy. Many of Schwartz's suggestions would blunt intended candor. His accepted version of the first sentence, "I can't ever remember seeing Francis Crick in a modest mood," could only have been written by a timid lawyer. In a few cases, he wanted harmless subst.i.tutions such as often often instead of instead of generally. generally. To these I gave in. As Tom Wilson strongly concurred, I also agreed to Schwartz's wish that the t.i.tle become To these I gave in. As Tom Wilson strongly concurred, I also agreed to Schwartz's wish that the t.i.tle become The Double Helix. The Double Helix.

The situation was less under control across the Atlantic, where Weidenfeld's solicitor, Colin Madie, still maintained that Francis was being defamed and that, given his reputation for not being particularly well balanced, we should not expect him to act in his own long-term interest. By the end of September, Madie abruptly changed his opinion, telling Weidenfeld to proceed. This happened after he showed the ma.n.u.script to a close friend who had known Francis for years and who told him that my portrait of Crick was "right on mark." Weidenfeld's editor in chief, Nicolas Thompson, then reread the ma.n.u.script, writing to me that "my picture of Francis was one only a hypersensitive or very unreasonable person could object to. You point to his faults indeed, but much more to his enormous talents and likable qualities."

The way was now clear to sign final contracts, with Tom Wilson looking embarra.s.sed as he conveyed to me Simon Michael Bessie's offer of an Andre Deutsch-magnitude advance. Seeing no gain from asking Bessie why he took me for a fool, I let Eph negotiate a more reasonable sum. Later, Bessie tried to renege on his promise to stipulate that Atheneum would pay one-half of any costs of successfully defending a libel suit. So I wrote him that the contract already incorporated all compromises, and there we must stand. Otherwise, I would find another publisher, notwithstanding my connection with Tom. I gave him a deadline to back down, which he did. I felt sorry for Tom's having to be a.s.sociated with this overrated publisher, who was not a patch on someone like George Weidenfeld.

A better side of Atheneum was presented by Harry Ford, who chose the typeface and designed a striking red jacket. Once I got through my first fall Harvard lectures, I a.s.sembled and sent on to him the appropriate photos and preliminary sketches for diagrams of DNA bases, the sugar phosphate backbone, and so on. Libby Aldrich was no longer available to help me, having gone off to Lady Margaret Hall at Oxford to study English and also to avoid facing her emotions concerning the Advocate's Advocate's former editor Stuart Arrowsmith Davis. In Plath-like fas.h.i.+on, she wrote a blue-tinted letter to describe herself as freezing, pale, and gaunt, but very well acclimated to dropping s.h.i.+llings into various heating devices and visiting the public baths (another s.h.i.+lling) along with the rest of the neighborhood's female population of Indians and Cypriote. Lady Margaret Hall itself, she said, was part convent, part prison, and very much an autonomous little private girls' school, through which pa.s.sed innumerable withered little old ladies, two of them her tutors-the Anglo-Saxon one old and fierce, the literature one old and sadly girlish. For cheer, pictures of Mick Jagger and Bob Dylan were on the walls of her two attic rooms, above the floors occupied by her meek Irish landlord and his virago wife. Seeing former editor Stuart Arrowsmith Davis. In Plath-like fas.h.i.+on, she wrote a blue-tinted letter to describe herself as freezing, pale, and gaunt, but very well acclimated to dropping s.h.i.+llings into various heating devices and visiting the public baths (another s.h.i.+lling) along with the rest of the neighborhood's female population of Indians and Cypriote. Lady Margaret Hall itself, she said, was part convent, part prison, and very much an autonomous little private girls' school, through which pa.s.sed innumerable withered little old ladies, two of them her tutors-the Anglo-Saxon one old and fierce, the literature one old and sadly girlish. For cheer, pictures of Mick Jagger and Bob Dylan were on the walls of her two attic rooms, above the floors occupied by her meek Irish landlord and his virago wife. Seeing Privilege, Privilege, Libby wrote that she shortened her skirts and aimed to cultivate glamour. Libby wrote that she shortened her skirts and aimed to cultivate glamour.

Tom Wilson now was in a position to contact the New Yorker New Yorker about serializing about serializing The Double Helix The Double Helix as they had Truman Capote's as they had Truman Capote's In Cold Blood. In Cold Blood. But they turned us down, as did But they turned us down, as did Life Life magazine, which said they had already dealt with DNA through their big 1963 ill.u.s.trated article. magazine, which said they had already dealt with DNA through their big 1963 ill.u.s.trated article. The Atlantic Monthly The Atlantic Monthly responded more positively, publis.h.i.+ng responded more positively, publis.h.i.+ng The Double Helix The Double Helix intact in their January and February 1968 issues. By then, Francis and Maurice had given up thoughts of any legal action, with Francis feeling victorious over HUP's withdrawal. No one would now have cause to think intact in their January and February 1968 issues. By then, Francis and Maurice had given up thoughts of any legal action, with Francis feeling victorious over HUP's withdrawal. No one would now have cause to think The Double Helix The Double Helix a scholarly book. Early in February 1968, Eph sent me a bill for $700 for his a.s.sistance between June 1967 and October 6, 1967, citing charges for (1) his opinions with respect to libel, (2) the withdrawal of Atheneum-suggested changes that he thought unwarranted, and (3) conferring with attorneys for Atheneum with respect to requests by Dr. Crick's attorney to examine ma.n.u.scripts, correspondences, et cetera. To complete the bill, $8.86 was requested for toll calls and $5.75 for messenger service. a scholarly book. Early in February 1968, Eph sent me a bill for $700 for his a.s.sistance between June 1967 and October 6, 1967, citing charges for (1) his opinions with respect to libel, (2) the withdrawal of Atheneum-suggested changes that he thought unwarranted, and (3) conferring with attorneys for Atheneum with respect to requests by Dr. Crick's attorney to examine ma.n.u.scripts, correspondences, et cetera. To complete the bill, $8.86 was requested for toll calls and $5.75 for messenger service.

A luncheon was held at the Century a.s.sociation on February 14, 1968, for reviewers and science editors. There I would have to be gracious to Michael Bessie, but Libby Aldrich was on hand for me to make snide remarks to behind his back. Just before Christmas, Oxford had dropped out of her life, and for six weeks she'd expected to be Mrs. Stuart Arrowsmith Davis. The wedding was meant to take place in Bronxville the Sat.u.r.day before my event. Just before the ceremony, however, the groom had suffered a nervous collapse and the marriage was indefinitely postponed. By the luncheon's end, Libby was nowhere to be seen, and I eventually found her in a ladies' room pa.s.sed out from having drowned her sorrows in pre-luncheon drinks. A cab took us to the Plaza, where I had a big room with a window on the park. Libby instantly fell asleep in my bed. By 7:00 P.M., she was alert enough for dinner at La Cote Basque before I took her to Grand Central Station for the train to New Haven, where Stuart was a Yale graduate student.

The next evening I met the Atheneum publicity agent at the studio where I was to appear on Merv Griffin's TV show. My conversation with Griffin seemed to end almost before it started, with my nervous movements causing Merv's English-butler sidekick, Arthur Treacher (also of eponymous fish and chips fame), to ask whether I needed the little boys' room. Ten days later, I went back to New York to appear after Harry Belafonte on the Today Today show and attend a luncheon to mark the book's official publication date. In the middle of March I was there yet again for a book world luncheon at the Waldorf-Astoria. By then, several positive reviews had appeared, the most important by the Columbia University sociologist Robert Merton. The article, ent.i.tled "Making It Scientifically," began: "This is a candid self-portrayal of the scientist as a young man in a hurry." Richard Lewontin used his show and attend a luncheon to mark the book's official publication date. In the middle of March I was there yet again for a book world luncheon at the Waldorf-Astoria. By then, several positive reviews had appeared, the most important by the Columbia University sociologist Robert Merton. The article, ent.i.tled "Making It Scientifically," began: "This is a candid self-portrayal of the scientist as a young man in a hurry." Richard Lewontin used his Chicago Sun-Times Chicago Sun-Times s.p.a.ce to compare it to Francoise Gilot's s.p.a.ce to compare it to Francoise Gilot's Life with Pica.s.so, Life with Pica.s.so, calling it a vulgar curiosity about minor scientific celebrities. Soon I was on the calling it a vulgar curiosity about minor scientific celebrities. Soon I was on the New York Times New York Times best-seller list, remaining there for sixteen weeks, though never near the top. best-seller list, remaining there for sixteen weeks, though never near the top. Time Time magazine for some two weeks wanted me on its cover, sending a reporter to follow me about at Harvard and then watch me speak at Dartmouth. Eagerly I sought out magazine for some two weeks wanted me on its cover, sending a reporter to follow me about at Harvard and then watch me speak at Dartmouth. Eagerly I sought out Time Time on the day promoted for my front-page appearance only to see the face of "Danny the Red." The student barricades in Paris had become more important than DNA. on the day promoted for my front-page appearance only to see the face of "Danny the Red." The student barricades in Paris had become more important than DNA.

Only late in May did Weidenfeld publish the British edition of The Double Helix. The Double Helix. They had produced a much condensed version for the They had produced a much condensed version for the Sunday Times Sunday Times to publish, but I nixed the effort, saying that it lacked the character of the full book and would unnecessarily annoy Francis and Maurice. Even worse was the vulgar jacket, printed a month before publication without my input. It made Francis seem ridiculous, with such ludicrous attempts at seductive copy as: "1) Which winner of the n.o.bel Prize has a voice so loud it can actually produce a buzzing in the ears? 2) Who is the top Cambridge scientist who gossips over dinner about the private lives of women undergraduates? 3) Which eminent English biologist created a scandal at a costume party by dressing up as George Bernard Shaw and kissing all the girls behind the anonymity of a scraggy red beard?" Mortified by my publisher's stupidity and grossness, I immediately contacted Nicolas Thompson to have Weidenfeld replace the offensive jacket. With no argument they backed down, and George Weidenfeld personally rea.s.sured me that all the jackets were being destroyed. to publish, but I nixed the effort, saying that it lacked the character of the full book and would unnecessarily annoy Francis and Maurice. Even worse was the vulgar jacket, printed a month before publication without my input. It made Francis seem ridiculous, with such ludicrous attempts at seductive copy as: "1) Which winner of the n.o.bel Prize has a voice so loud it can actually produce a buzzing in the ears? 2) Who is the top Cambridge scientist who gossips over dinner about the private lives of women undergraduates? 3) Which eminent English biologist created a scandal at a costume party by dressing up as George Bernard Shaw and kissing all the girls behind the anonymity of a scraggy red beard?" Mortified by my publisher's stupidity and grossness, I immediately contacted Nicolas Thompson to have Weidenfeld replace the offensive jacket. With no argument they backed down, and George Weidenfeld personally rea.s.sured me that all the jackets were being destroyed.

The week I was in England to mark the official publication date was no time to try to see Francis and Maurice. But Peter Pauling was typically fun to be with, and I could deliver the English version to Naomi Mitchison, to whom I dedicated The Double Helix. The Double Helix. I saw Lawrence and Alice Bragg at their country home near the Suffolk coast. In England, most of the reviews were favorable. The most critical was by the embryologist C. H. Waddington, who thought me verging toward Salvador Dali-like manic egocentricity. By the year's end, some seventy thousand books had sold in the United States and British sales approached thirty thousand. Given its generally high praise and wide visibility, Tom Wilson thought I would be a shoo-in for the 1969 National Book Award in science. But it went to Yale's Robert Jay Lifton for I saw Lawrence and Alice Bragg at their country home near the Suffolk coast. In England, most of the reviews were favorable. The most critical was by the embryologist C. H. Waddington, who thought me verging toward Salvador Dali-like manic egocentricity. By the year's end, some seventy thousand books had sold in the United States and British sales approached thirty thousand. Given its generally high praise and wide visibility, Tom Wilson thought I would be a shoo-in for the 1969 National Book Award in science. But it went to Yale's Robert Jay Lifton for Death in Life: Survivors of Hiros.h.i.+ma. Death in Life: Survivors of Hiros.h.i.+ma.

Though I was disappointed, I no longer needed others to tell me I had written a book worth reading.

Remembered Lessons 1. Be the first to tell a good story In 1953 the finding of the double helix by itself did not create the opportunity for an important new textbook. Any such book written the next year necessarily would have been dominated by other facts already well doc.u.mented-and which still const.i.tuted most of what was known on the subject of life's nature. Twelve years had to pa.s.s before an almost complete, new story could be told of how the genetic information within DNA molecules is used by cells to order the amino acids in proteins. By contrast, the story of the quest for DNA's structure could be told immediately, although it took me almost a decade to figure out how to go about telling it. Many have had their objections to my version of characters and events, but the popular imagination was captured by it, not least on account of its having come first.

2. A wise editor matters more than a big advance a.s.suming you are not being insultingly low-balled, choosing a publisher on the basis of the advance is like choosing a house builder solely on the basis of the lowest bid. An innovative book usually takes more time to write and may cost more money to produce than either you or your publisher would guess at the time of signing the contract. Better to have a seasoned and comprehending editor on your side when your ma.n.u.script takes many more years to finish than contractually stipulated. By then your editor, if not employed elsewhere, will be under pressure to curb production costs as much as possible. Your ill.u.s.trations may be cut in number and fobbed off on the cheapest available commercial artist, but the chances of that are diminished if the publisher isn't already deep in the hole having paid you money you haven't yet earned. If you haven't been overpaid, your freedom to pay back the advance and take the book elsewhere is greater and so is your leverage in demanding that corners not be cut.

3. Find an agent whose advice you will follow Publishers' contracts invariably contain clauses that only publis.h.i.+ng lawyers understand. Unless you want to become credentialed in this arcane specialty, another field that has seen its best days, let your prospective contract go through the hands of someone paid by you to see that you are not taken advantage of. It is too much to expect your publisher, no matter his reputation for rect.i.tude, to look after your interests and his own equally. The 10 percent to 15 percent of the proceeds charged by a reputable agent are well worth whatever is saved trying to represent yourself.

4. Use snappy sentences to open your chapters With so much on TV, a short, incisive first sentence is more important than ever in pulling your readers into a new chapter. Let your audience know where they will be going if they stay with you. In The Double Helix, The Double Helix, I used openers such as "I proceeded to forget Maurice, but not his DNA photograph." Equally important are ending sentences, in which I often sprinkled a touch of irony, as in "The remnants of Christianity were indeed useful," or attempted Oscar Wilde-like epigrams: "The message of my first meeting with the aristocracy was clear. I would not be invited back if I acted like everyone else." I used openers such as "I proceeded to forget Maurice, but not his DNA photograph." Equally important are ending sentences, in which I often sprinkled a touch of irony, as in "The remnants of Christianity were indeed useful," or attempted Oscar Wilde-like epigrams: "The message of my first meeting with the aristocracy was clear. I would not be invited back if I acted like everyone else."

5. Don't use autobiography to justify past actions or motivations A major reason for writing autobiography is to prevent later biographers getting the basic facts of your life wrong. If life has graced you with lots of memorable occasions, merely reporting them correctly and dispa.s.sionately will generate a book worth reading. Attempts at justifying your actions and apologizing for bad behavior long ago only consign your work to the dubious genre of apologetics. Better to tell it straight without vainglory or shame and let others praise or d.a.m.n you, as they will inevitably do anyway.

6. Avoid imprecise modifiers Modifiers such as very, much, largely, very, much, largely, and and possibly possibly don't convey useful information and only reduce the impact of otherwise crisp language. Saying someone is very bright offers no further insight than just saying he is bright. To go further, you must be more creative; for example, comparing your subject's brightness (or stupidity) with that of a known person or somehow ranking him, saying for instance, "No one was brighter in the Cavendish Laboratory"-that's got to mean something. don't convey useful information and only reduce the impact of otherwise crisp language. Saying someone is very bright offers no further insight than just saying he is bright. To go further, you must be more creative; for example, comparing your subject's brightness (or stupidity) with that of a known person or somehow ranking him, saying for instance, "No one was brighter in the Cavendish Laboratory"-that's got to mean something.

7. Always remember your intended reader From the start, I wanted The Double Helix The Double Helix to be read beyond the world of science. So I integrated paragraphs about science with ones dealing with people, their individual actions and motives. Technical facts not essential to the story I left out. Even so, I found certain highly paid lawyers annoyed by any paragraph too technical for them to understand. I savored the justice ofthat. to be read beyond the world of science. So I integrated paragraphs about science with ones dealing with people, their individual actions and motives. Technical facts not essential to the story I left out. Even so, I found certain highly paid lawyers annoyed by any paragraph too technical for them to understand. I savored the justice ofthat.

8. Read out loud your written words To make The Double Helix The Double Helix read smoothly, I read aloud every sentence to see if it made sense when spoken. Long sentences that were hard to follow I broke into shorter ones. I also sometimes combined a few short ones, as one short sentence after another can obscure the significance of events that unfold over more than one day. Choppy language is better suited for cookbooks and lab manuals. read smoothly, I read aloud every sentence to see if it made sense when spoken. Long sentences that were hard to follow I broke into shorter ones. I also sometimes combined a few short ones, as one short sentence after another can obscure the significance of events that unfold over more than one day. Choppy language is better suited for cookbooks and lab manuals.

13. MANNERS REQUIRED FOR ACADEMIC CIVILITY.

BY THE mid-1960s, more and more of the research being done in Wally's and my third-floor labs was directed toward understanding how gene functioning is regulated by specific environmental triggers. We were preoccupied by concepts emanating over the past decade from the Inst.i.tut Pasteur in Paris. There Jacques Monod and Francois Jacob skillfully employed genetic a.n.a.lysis of the bacterium E. coli E. coli to study how its exposure to the sugar lactose induced the preferential synthesis of the lactose-degrading enzyme -galactosidase. They showed the existence of a lactose "repressor" whose presence negatively controls the rate at which -galactosidase molecules are made. Their work suggested that free lactose repressore bind to one or more regulatory regions on the -galactosidase gene, thereby preventing subsequent binding of the RNA-making enzyme RNA polymerase. In their 1961 Cold Spring Harbor Symposium paper, Jacob and Monod had proposed that the lactose repressor was an RNA molecule. Controversy by now existed as to whether they were correct, with others suspecting it to be a protein. to study how its exposure to the sugar lactose induced the preferential synthesis of the lactose-degrading enzyme -galactosidase. They showed the existence of a lactose "repressor" whose presence negatively controls the rate at which -galactosidase molecules are made. Their work suggested that free lactose repressore bind to one or more regulatory regions on the -galactosidase gene, thereby preventing subsequent binding of the RNA-making enzyme RNA polymerase. In their 1961 Cold Spring Harbor Symposium paper, Jacob and Monod had proposed that the lactose repressor was an RNA molecule. Controversy by now existed as to whether they were correct, with others suspecting it to be a protein.

In 1965, Wally's main aim was to isolate the lactose repressor. As it was likely present only in a few molecules per bacterial cell, its identification was not a task for the faint-hearted. Two years before, Wally had spent several months unsuccessfully searching for it, believing it should specifically bind to -galactosidase inducers. Sensing then he was going nowhere, he turned to experiments with Julian Davies and Luigi Gorini that revealed streptomycin-induced misreadings of the genetic code, which offered possible explanations of how this powerful antibiotic kills bacteria.

Also keen to get the lactose repressor was the German biochemist Benno Muller-Hill, who was one year younger than Wally Coming from a politically liberal family, Benno gravitated further to the left as a chemistry student in the German socialist student scene, discovering that many teachers at the University of Munich had been n.a.z.i sympathizers, though no one in authority seemed to care. In his hometown of Freiburg, Benno later did doctoral work in the laboratory of the sugar chemist Kurt Wallenfels. There he learned the essentials of protein chemistry through studying -galactosidase. He began to love science and became excited about Monod and Jacob's work on how lactose molecules induce the synthesis of -galactosidase. Later, in the fall of 1963, Benno began a postdoctoral position in Howard Ricken-berg's lab at Indiana University, to which he brought samples of the Wallenfels lab's glycosides to study their specificity in inducing -galactosidase.

In Bloomington, Benno never felt comfortable either as a German among its many Jewish biochemists or as a leftist among Americans whose paranoia about communists in their midst surprised him. But his experiments there, which gave him sufficient results for a talk at the August 1964 International Biochemistry Congress in New York, were an ample reward for such social unease. By then he wanted to move on to the lactose repressor and came up to me after my talk to see whether I would accept him into my Harvard lab. Explaining that it was Gilbert he needed to approach, I urged him to visit Harvard as soon as Wally returned from a lengthy visit to England. Upon their meeting, Wally instantly saw Benno as the collaborator he needed and offered him a research position starting as soon as he could politely leave Howard Rickenberg's lab.

In Bloomington, Benno had learned how to genetically manipulate E. coli. E. coli. He ably deployed this newly acquired skill soon after he arrived at Harvard to show that the lactose repressor is indeed a protein, not an RNA molecule. By using chemical mutagens he generated almost two hundred He ably deployed this newly acquired skill soon after he arrived at Harvard to show that the lactose repressor is indeed a protein, not an RNA molecule. By using chemical mutagens he generated almost two hundred E. coli E. coli mutants that made -galactosidase in the absence of any inducers. Two of the mutants represented change to "nonsense" codons leading to premature polypeptide chain termination. If the repressor was made of RNA, this cla.s.s of mutants would not have existed. The simple elegance of Benno's experiment was not revealed in his first ma.n.u.script draft. After telling him it was heavy and Teutonic, I rewrote it before its October 1965 submission to the mutants that made -galactosidase in the absence of any inducers. Two of the mutants represented change to "nonsense" codons leading to premature polypeptide chain termination. If the repressor was made of RNA, this cla.s.s of mutants would not have existed. The simple elegance of Benno's experiment was not revealed in his first ma.n.u.script draft. After telling him it was heavy and Teutonic, I rewrote it before its October 1965 submission to the Journal of Molecular Biology. Journal of Molecular Biology. As one of the journal's editors, I knew the article would quickly appear in print. As one of the journal's editors, I knew the article would quickly appear in print.

Though both Benno and Wally had earlier independently failed to detect the lac repressor through its binding to potent -galactosidase inducers, this feature offered still the only approach at their disposal. To increase their chances of succeeding, Benno again turned to bacterial genetics, making a mutant repressor that had enhanced affinity for the chemical that induced isopropyl--D-i-thiogalactosidase (IPTG). By growing E. coli E. coli cells in very low concentrations of IPTG, a much more effective repressor became available. To double repressor numbers in bacteria, Benno made a diploid derivative containing two copies of its respective gene. These genetic tricks by themselves, however, were not sufficient to pinpoint the lac repressor in cell-free bacteria extracts. Success came only through developing molecular separation procedures that yielded protein samples enriched in the lac repressor. The first positive results were achieved in May 1966, but they were barely credible. Only 4 percent more radioactively labeled IPTG was found in bacterial extracts containing repressore than in surrounding repressor-free solutions. Soon better fractionation methods led to a semipurified sample that drew the IPTG into a semipermeable dialysis sac at a concentration almost twice that found outside. These enriched extracts were not affected by the enzymes that break down DNA and RNA. In contrast, the protein-degrading enzyme p.r.o.nase destroyed all binding activity, confirming Benno's genetic pinpointing of the repressor as a protein. cells in very low concentrations of IPTG, a much more effective repressor became available. To double repressor numbers in bacteria, Benno made a diploid derivative containing two copies of its respective gene. These genetic tricks by themselves, however, were not sufficient to pinpoint the lac repressor in cell-free bacteria extracts. Success came only through developing molecular separation procedures that yielded protein samples enriched in the lac repressor. The first positive results were achieved in May 1966, but they were barely credible. Only 4 percent more radioactively labeled IPTG was found in bacterial extracts containing repressore than in surrounding repressor-free solutions. Soon better fractionation methods led to a semipurified sample that drew the IPTG into a semipermeable dialysis sac at a concentration almost twice that found outside. These enriched extracts were not affected by the enzymes that break down DNA and RNA. In contrast, the protein-degrading enzyme p.r.o.nase destroyed all binding activity, confirming Benno's genetic pinpointing of the repressor as a protein.

Until then, Wally and Benno faced the likely prospect of not being first to characterize a repressore molecular nature. On the fourth floor was twenty-six-year-old Mark Ptashne, who was feverishly trying to isolate the phage repressor. It blocks the functioning of all but one phage gene when phage is present as an inactive prophage on an E. coli E. coli chromosome. The only gene then functioning is that coding for the repressor. Though its existence became known through elegant genetic experiments at the Inst.i.tut Pasteur, no one in Paris had come up with a workable approach for its molecular characterization. chromosome. The only gene then functioning is that coding for the repressor. Though its existence became known through elegant genetic experiments at the Inst.i.tut Pasteur, no one in Paris had come up with a workable approach for its molecular characterization.

Mark had arrived in the fall of 1960 to do his Ph.D. thesis work with Matt Meselson. As essential to his nature as his desire to do top science were his leather motorcycle jacket, his violin, and his golf clubs. In high school, Mark had spent summer vacations at the University of Minnesota working in the neurophysiology lab of a left-wing family friend. At Reed College, which he chose over Harvard for its exclusive devotion to undergraduate education, he moved from philosophy to biology, working during the summer before his senior year at the University of Oregon. There Frank Stahl told him to do his graduate work with Matt Meselson. Mark already knew that the repressor was the next big objective in the phage world. But this goal was too risky for an early 1960s Ph.D. thesis, and so Mark settled in for a semiroutine genetic a.n.a.lysis of phage . As his thesis experiments neared their end, Paul Doty and I strongly backed his appointment to a three-year stint in Harvard's Society of Fellows. This would give him a shot at the repressor. As a candidate, he proved a shoo-in, since Wa.s.sily Leontief, the new head of the Society of Fellows, saw in Mark an agreeable conversationalist for the society's Monday night dinners. His term as a junior fellow commenced in July 1965.

That August, I submitted a $55,000 grant application to the National Science Foundation to pay Mark's salary and lab expenses for the three years, including a $5,000 yearly salary for a technician. The funding would allow him to work independently from his boss, Matt Meselson, who by now had despaired of Mark's sometimes sloppy work habits. In fact, my application stated that Mark intended to use DNA-RNA hybridization techniques to detect the repressor, which was yielding messy results even before the grant came through. Not enough was known about how RNA polymerase transcribes genes in cell-free extracts.

Mark's game plan soon changed. He began to look for differences in the proteins synthesized when heavily irradiated bacteria are infected with different types of phage. He guessed that repressor synthesis const.i.tuted only 0.01 percent of the protein synthesis in cells carrying prophages. To make scarce repressor molecules visible, he needed to drastically reduce synthesis of most bacterial proteins, as well as to inhibit the synthesis of all -specific proteins that were not the repressor. He reasoned he could cut back the routine synthesis of cellular proteins by irradiating the bacterial host cells with ma.s.sive doses of ultraviolet light.

Mark Ptashne lobs a Softball at the 1968 Cold Spring Harbor symposium.

With Wally Gilbert's and my students and postdocs on the Biology Department rhino in 1965 Though Mark's experimental design was elegant, making it work would be no cakewalk. Though he received hints of early success, these were cruelly followed by failures to spot a radioactively labeled protein. In the summer of 1966, virtually all of Mark's experiments were cras.h.i.+ng while Wally and Benno provided mounting proof that they were looking at the lac repressor. Happily, Mark's world would brighten immeasurably through the sudden unantic.i.p.ated arrival of my former Radcliffe tutee, Nancy Haven Doe.

Nancy had been intrigued by repressore ever since learning about them during my spring 1963 Biology 2 lectures. Until then, she had expected her life to be largely that of the wife of a social male, very likely Brook Hopkins, Harvard '63, whom she had met as a freshman and with whom she had persevered through five years of "understood engagement." During her senior year, noticing Nancy's intellectual vitality, I strongly encouraged her to go to graduate school. Aiming her toward the best, I wrote to Rockefeller University's president, Detlev Bronk, in support of her admission. Perhaps because she had come to science so recently, Bronk did not take the bait. Nancy's fate instead became Yale, possibly pushed ahead by my recommendation letter describing her as a quick learner who happened also to be cheerful and pretty.

Nancy's first year in New Haven was a typical full load of four courses during both the fall and spring terms. She mastered the Schrodinger wave equation as well as many facts of chemistry that with luck she would never need to use. Eight straight A's left Alan Garen no choice but to accept her into his molecular genetics lab, where she wanted to go for the repressor. Soon, however, she realized Alan to be a man of few words, little time for mentoring, and an excess of caution. He told her he was not up to the repressor; it was too hard a problem for someone over thirty-five. The dull alternative he proposed held little hope of sustaining and exciting her as a scientist. Writing to me early in March 1966, she remained resolute about resisting contentment in mediocrity. By late spring, she could take no more of her New Haven abode and decamped with an equally disenchanted aspiring female academic to the island of Mykonos.

Upon coming back to the States, she feared that staying at Yale would condemn her to work in Bill Konigsberg's lab on dull, dull hemoglobin. In August, she wrote to me proposing to join Mark Ptashne's lab as his technician. There her three-and-a-half-year-long obsession to work on repressore could find a proper outlet. Only several days before, she'd visited Harvard and found Mark so clearly in need of intelligent help that he would forgive her several blessings of heredity including a six-inch advantage in height. Nancy found it infinitely more gratifying to work as a technician on the repressor than to be a graduate student not working on the repressor. Wanting my opinion about her potential new career, she made it clear she had not at any time been, nor ever would be, in love with Mark Ptashne. With that rea.s.surance, I gave her my blessing.

Nancy nevertheless proved just the tonic Mark needed. With her methodically meticulous presence ensuring that he did not leave out essential experimental reagents, Mark could consistently detect the repressor and begin its molecular characterization. They soon showed that it was a protein of molecular weight near 30,000. Though Nancy at first believed Mark could win the repressor race, he knew otherwise. Wally and Benno were already writing up their paper, while he likely needed at least six more weeks in the lab before starting to write. Benno regularly came up to the fourth floor to check on their progress, much to Nancy's annoyance. She perceived his main purpose as gloating. Seeing Mark's always polite reception of Benno, however, Nancy managed an equal courage and grace. As for Wally, Mark so revered him that losing the race to him could never be devastating. Nancy's huge respect for Mark was no less evident: every day she went to the sandwich truck on Divinity Avenue to get his lunch, an egg salad sandwich, accompanied often by a chocolate eclair to fortify his morale.

Wally and Benno's paper "Isolation of the Lac Repressor" was submitted by me to the Proceedings of the National Academy of Science Proceedings of the National Academy of Science (PNAS) (PNAS) on October 24,1966, just in time for publication in the December issue. If I had delayed its submission to let Mark complete the experiments needed for his paper, Wally and Benno's discovery would bear the next year's publication date. Mark would have preferred this, but I argued that no one would deem his work less important for appearing in print second. On December 27, "Isolation of the Phage Repressor" went off to on October 24,1966, just in time for publication in the December issue. If I had delayed its submission to let Mark complete the experiments needed for his paper, Wally and Benno's discovery would bear the next year's publication date. Mark would have preferred this, but I argued that no one would deem his work less important for appearing in print second. On December 27, "Isolation of the Phage Repressor" went off to PNAS, PNAS, to appear in the February 1967 issue. Mark triumphantly announced the repressor isolation at a seminar in our lab's tearoom a month before the paper came out. The room was packed and during his moment of triumph ("I did it all alone!") he never acknowledged Nancy's key role in his success. Afterward, I badly chewed him out. Instantly realizing he had been too full of himself, that evening he called Nancy to apologize and later sent her flowers. to appear in the February 1967 issue. Mark triumphantly announced the repressor isolation at a seminar in our lab's tearoom a month before the paper came out. The room was packed and during his moment of triumph ("I did it all alone!") he never acknowledged Nancy's key role in his success. Afterward, I badly chewed him out. Instantly realizing he had been too full of himself, that evening he called Nancy to apologize and later sent her flowers.

Mark and Nancy went on to test whether their repressor worked by binding to specific DNA sequences. When mixtures of radioactive repressor and DNA were centrifuged together in sucrose gradients they sedimented together. In contrast, mixtures of repressor and DNA from phage imm434 did not co-sediment. These much hoped for results were nonreproducible for an awful week until Mark realized that Nancy had inadvertently raised the salt levels in their mixtures. She nervously repeated the experiment using the original salt levels. The new results were just coming off the isotope counter when Nancy and Mark had to attend a seminar on the floor below. Halfway through the talk, the suspense overwhelmed her and she returned to the lab, where she quickly realized all was again well. She and Mark were for the first time ahead of Wally and Benno. Returning from the seminar, Mark shouted for joy, and they went into the halls to spread their good news. Going downstairs, they caught Wally and me about to leave the Biolabs. Upon learning that the experiment was repeatable, Wally's face turned ashen. Mark's overtaking him was not acceptable.

Over the weekend, Wally set about to do the a.n.a.logous experiment using DNA from a phage Benno obtained from Jon Beckwith of Harvard Medical School that carried the -galactosidase gene and its control region. By Monday morning, Wally let it be known that he had preliminary positive results he intended to verify quickly, bringing him again even with Mark and Nancy. Seeing Wally's intense compet.i.tiveness made Nancy feel as if she could never survive the male-dominated dog-eat-dog grind of being a scientist. It also was an eye-opener for Mark. His reverence for Wally had taken a big knock.

But Wally's expectation of catching up to Mark and Nancy hit some skids. Holding him up were difficulties in purifying the radioactively labeled lac repressor. Though Mark gallantly held up his submission to Nature, Nature, intending to let Wally and Benno publish simultaneously, after two months they were not ready even to start writing, so he sent his paper in without theirs. Having been forewarned about Mark's submission, intending to let Wally and Benno publish simultaneously, after two months they were not ready even to start writing, so he sent his paper in without theirs. Having been forewarned about Mark's submission, Nature's Nature's editor, John Maddox, sent it to the printer the day it arrived. "Specific Binding of Phage Repressor to DNA" appeared on April 15,1967, only six days after arriving in editor, John Maddox, sent it to the printer the day it arrived. "Specific Binding of Phage Repressor to DNA" appeared on April 15,1967, only six days after arriving in Nature's Nature's London office. Wally and Benno's paper "The Lac Operator Is DNA" was submitted on October 28 to London office. Wally and Benno's paper "The Lac Operator Is DNA" was submitted on October 28 to PNAS, PNAS, in time at least for publication in the same cal