One would not expect someone at Berkeley to ignore a first-rate problem merely because someone at Cal Tech had started first. In England, however, it simply would not look right.
The thought could not be avoided that the best home for a feminist was in another person’s lab.
I was principally interested in birds and managed to avoid taking any chemistry or physics courses which looked of even medium difficulty.
Though this work had been going on for over fifteen years, most if not all of the facts were soft. Ideas put forward with conviction were likely to be the products of wild crystallographers who delighted in being in a field where their ideas could not be easily disproved. Thus, although virtually all biochemists, including Herman, were unable to understand the arguments of the X-ray people, there was little uneasiness. It made no sense to learn complicated mathematical methods in order to follow baloney.
Maurice moved off to his hotel with only a casual nod. Neither the beauty of my sister nor my intense interest in the DNA structure had snared him.
Several fellow professors, however, watched this performance with mixed feelings. Seeing Linus jumping up and down on the demonstration table and moving his arms like a magician about to pull a rabbit out of his shoe made them feel inadequate.
By the time I was back in Copenhagen, the journal containing Linus’ article had arrived from the States. I quickly read it and immediately reread it. Most of the language was above me, and so I could only get a general impression of his argument. I had no way of judging whether it made sense. The only thing I was sure of was that it was written with style.
One article started with the phrase, “Collagen is a very interesting protein.” It inspired me to compose opening lines of the paper I would write about DNA, if I solved its structure. A sentence like “Genes are interesting to geneticists” would distinguish my way of thought from Pauling’s.
An important truth was slowly entering my head: a scientist’s life might be interesting socially as well as intellectually. I went off to England in excellent spirits.
John and Elizabeth Kendrew rescued me with the offer, at almost no rent, of a tiny room in their house on Tennis Court Road. It was unbelievably damp and heated only by an aged electric heater. Nonetheless, I eagerly accepted the offer. Though it looked like an open invitation to tuberculosis, living with friends was infinitely preferable to any other digs I might find at this late moment.
In a sense, this pursuit of the Ph.D. was a bore to a mind that worked too fast to be satisfied with the tedium involved in thesis research.
This event, his first unquestionable success, was a signal triumph for Francis. For once the absence of women had gone along with luck.
The measure of his past triumphs was sufficient reason in itself to act differently; only a genius of his stature could play like a ten-year-old boy and still get the right answer.
It was downright obvious to her that the only way to establish the DNA structure was by pure crystallographic approaches. As model building did not appeal to her, at no time did she mention Pauling’s triumph over the α-helix. The idea of using tinker-toy-like models to solve biological structures was clearly a last resort. Of course Rosy knew of Linus’ success but saw no obvious reason to ape his mannerisms. The measure of his past triumphs was sufficient reason in itself to act differently; only a genius of his stature could play like a ten-year-old boy and still get the right answer.
The theory was much too elegant not to be told in person—individuals like Dorothy who were clever enough to understand its power immediately were much too rare.
Though Francis could not help dominating the lunchtime conversation, his mood was no longer that of a confident master lecturing hapless colonial children who until then had never experienced a first-rate intellect.
The rules were, in fact, so simple that Francis considered writing them up under the title, “Fourier Transforms for the Birdwatcher.”
To most of the spectators, however, Hershey’s name carried no weight. Moreover, when it came out that I was an American, my uncut hair provided no assurance that my scientific judgment was not equally bizarre.
The idea of the genes’ being immortal smelled right,
Peter’s presence meant that, whenever more science was pointless, the conversation could dwell on the comparative virtues of girls from England, the Continent, and California.
I returned to the problem of Linus, emphasizing that smiling too long over his mistake might be fatal. The position would be far safer if Pauling had been merely wrong instead of looking like a fool. Soon, if not already, he would be at it day and night.
As the waiter peered over his shoulder, hoping we would finally order, Maurice made sure I understood that if we could all agree where science was going, everything would be solved and we would have no recourse but to be engineers or doctors.
seeing Francis absorbed by his thesis, I took off the afternoon to play tennis with Bertrand. After tea I returned to point out that it was lucky I found tennis more pleasing than model building. Francis, totally indifferent to the perfect spring day, immediately put down his pencil to point out that not only was DNA very important, but he could assure me that someday I would discover the unsatisfactory nature of outdoor games.
The following morning I felt marvelously alive when I awoke. On my way to the Whim I slowly walked toward the Clare Bridge, staring up at the gothic pinnacles of the King’s College Chapel that stood out sharply against the spring sky. I briefly stopped and looked over at the perfect Georgian features of the recently cleaned Gibbs Building, thinking that much of our success was due to the long uneventful periods when we walked among the colleges or unobtrusively read the new books that came into Heffer’s Bookstore.
Nonetheless, like almost everyone else, she saw the appeal of the base pairs and accepted the fact that the structure was too pretty not to be true.
Her past uncompromising statements on this matter thus reflected first-rate science, not the outpourings of a misguided feminist.
Our Cavendish typist was not on hand, and the brief job was given to my sister. There was no problem persuading her to spend a Saturday afternoon this way, for we told her that she was participating in perhaps the most famous event in biology since Darwin’s book.
Unthinkingly Peter arranged for him to stay at Pop’s. Soon we found that he would have preferred a hotel. The presence of foreign girls at breakfast did not compensate for the lack of hot water in his room.
Later that night with Peter we would celebrate my birthday. But now I was alone, looking at the long-haired girls near St. Germain des Prés and knowing they were not for me. I was twenty-five and too old to be unusual.