This fascinating volume presents the memoirs and reflections of Peter Medawar--the Nobel Prize-winning scientist and highly acclaimed author of Pluto's Republic, Aristotle to Zoos, and The Limits of Science. The image of man as a cross between Pascal's "thinking reed" and Falstaff's "forked radish," that Medawar invokes with the title to his autobiography, stems from his h
This fascinating volume presents the memoirs and reflections of Peter Medawar--the Nobel Prize-winning scientist and highly acclaimed author of Pluto's Republic, Aristotle to Zoos, and The Limits of Science. The image of man as a cross between Pascal's "thinking reed" and Falstaff's "forked radish," that Medawar invokes with the title to his autobiography, stems from his humble desire "not to claim for myself as an author any distinction more extravagant than membership of the human race." Yet in this incisive and witty memoir, Medawar reveals the events of an exceptional life, depicting his early days in Rio de Janeiro, his education at Oxford in the 1930s, the rewards and frustrations of his medical career, his musical education, his illnesses and recovery, his travels, and much more. This highly personal account illuminates the life of one of the most engaging and impressive men of our time.
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Paperback
Published
March 3rd 1988
by Oxford University Press, USA
(first published 1986)
This is the memoir of Peter Medawar, 1/2 British and 1/2 Lebanese Nobel laureate honored for his work around skin transplantation and graft rejection. Medawar studied at Oxford with brilliant scientists as well as a literati like CS Lewis and JRR Tolkien, and he fills his autobiography with anecdotes about them and his life in science, as well as his personal journey that included illness toward the end. A wise and wonderful book, especially for those interested in the inner life of a scientist.
Some of this was quite beyond me. I particularly liked this phrase "...the human comedy or the human predicament--very often the same thing". Good book that I'll add to my library some day.
Not a bad book, and reasonably written, although rather episodic. But the author comes across as a complete arse. Which I doubt was his intention. Feels like it was written a lot longer ago than the mid-80s.