E-Book Overview
In 1993, one of the best-ever science books went out of print in the United States. First published in 1979, The Eighth Day of Creation had achieved a rare blend of success, combining critics' acclaim and scientists' approval with strong commercial sales. As dictated by the conventions of the era, the hardcover edition was followed by a paperback and eventually, years later as sales declined, by the publisher's decision to stop making copies and revert the rights to the author, Horace Freeland Judson.
Two years later, discovering by chance that the book was no longer available, I set about tracking down the author, a less than simple task in those pre-Google days. My phone call to the Director's office at the George Washington University Center for History of Recent Science was cordially received. Horace knew Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory, of course, and was aware of its publications for molecular biology professionals. My interest in reviving his book for new generations of scientists was greeted politely but warily. A series of conversations began. Horace mentioned, not for the last time, that he regarded himself as a writer by trade and an academic by accident. Money was mentioned, befitting a believer in Dr. Johnson's school of authorship. I was made aware that a small and specialized academic press did not, in its author's opinion, seem sufficiently muscular for such a remarkable book. But then the discussion took a more promising tum. In the 15 years since publication, some small errors had surfaced. I dangled the possibility of correcting them. The perfectionist in Horace was intrigued. He confided that he had never really liked the book's layout and typography, finding them cramped and inelegant. Recklessly, I assured him we could fix that. I also suggested additional material, a commentary on how the science had progressed since the 70s-a sketch, perhaps, of a "ninth day of creation." That was too ambitious, he thought, but the Afterword might be adaptable to take in some of the more significant advances. And with his journalist's nose for getting maximum mileage from every piece, he proposed inserting essays he'd written on Rosalind Franklin and Erwin Chargaff long after the book was published. I was delighted to agree.
The new, "extended" edition appeared in 1996. With the design improvements and editorial corrections came a new and typically stylish foreword from Horace and a warm appreciation of the book from John Maddox. The reaction of the scientific community was immediate and gratifying. Old hands replaced or augmented their dog-eared copies of the original and younger scientists discovered a history of their field's origins that was both informative and gripping. Eighth Day reappeared in stores since, given its history, this was a title booksellers knew and understood. Overall, sales were strong enough to please both author and publisher.
Horace and I stayed in touch after that, with occasional pleasant lunches and phone conversations about other projects, but nothing took root. In 2004, 25 years after the original publication, and with demand still steady, an anniversary edition of Eighth Day was released with another addition, an engaging essay in which Horace revealed how he had created the book, laboring through years of diligent interviews and study. Neither of us had been charmed by the cover of the extended edition, an abstract design with a vaguely technological feel, and it was a pleasure to bring to the anniversary edition a version of da Vinci's Vitruvian Man who had graced the cover of the original hardcover.
Sadly, with Horace's passing at 80 years of age in 2011, this present edition will be the last episode in the life, death, and resurrection of one of the great works of science. I am grateful to Matt Meselson for his reminiscences of the book and its author, with whom he was an undergraduate at Chicago, to Mark Ptashne for the chance