Book Review: The Emperor of All Maladies by Siddhartha Mukherjee

2010 at 5am     Posted by Rebecca Joines Schinsky

Published November 16, 2010 by Scribner

Screw the suspense, I’m just going to start with this: If you are going to read one work of nonfiction this year (or in the next five years), make it The Emperor of All Maladies, Siddhartha Mukherjee’s breathtaking “biography of cancer.”

Framed by the story of his own experiences with cancer patients, Mukherjee sets out to “enter the mind of this immortal illness, to understand its behavior, to demystify its psyche” and to “imagine and reconstruct the ‘empire’ of cancer, and to populate that nation with voices, myths, personalities, and a story.”  And he succeeds on all counts. Mukherjee stages cancer as the subject of this comprehensive narrative that presents the evolution of our understanding of cancer and its treatment in terms that are “simple but not simplistic” and turns them into the kind of pageturner you’re more accustomed to finding on the mystery shelves of your local bookstore.

Mukherjee tells the story of cancer’s reign of terror in dual narratives that move between the big picture history of theories and hypotheses about what causes cancer (and the treatments these theories inspired) and mini-biographies of the individuals whose research, medical practices, and political efforts changed the scientific understanding and public perception of it.  This book is just as much a roll call of the courageous men and women who were bold enough to question accepted theories and point out a lack of supporting evidence for them as it is a history of technological developments and serendipitous encounters that changed the course of formal inquiry into cancer and its treatment.

Mukherjee describes the cowboy surgeons whose work in radical medicine pushed the boundaries of ethics and ego and the quiet individuals who toiled in basement labs, under-appreciated and unacknowledged, to make discoveries that saved lives and changed medicine. He presents the pioneering group of cancer lobbyists whose brilliant idea it was to create the “war on cancer” and frame the disease as an enemy to be conquered in order to raise awareness, sympathy, and, most important, funds for research. And it is all terribly interesting and well-written and more than a little bit mind-blowing.

There’s also a thorough history of the ways in which social changes impacted the study, treatment, and measurement of cancer (see: the relation between political feminism, medical feminism, and the decline of the radical mastectomy) and a meditation on the ways in which our fears about illness reflect our deeper fears about ourselves and our society.

But the real heart of The Emperor of All Maladies, the thing that makes it truly outstanding, is Mukherjee’s recognition of the fact that all of the progress and discovery and development come at the cost of human suffering and that, without cancer patients, there would be no story to tell here.

A patient, long before he becomes the subject of medical scrutiny, is, at first, simply a storyteller, a narrator of suffering—a traveler who has visited the kingdom of the ill.

Mukherjee’s humility and gratitude, and his empathy for and connection to his patients—and cancer patients in general—make this already remarkable book a must-read. The Emperor of All Maladies will captivate and educate you and force you to acknowledge the difference between knowing of something and truly knowing about it. Mukherjee’s writing is masterful, and he conveys technical information in the wonderful style adopted by the best professors, who know how to break a difficult subject into manageable pieces and keep you so fascinated that you hardly notice how much your mind is absorbing. And the clever chapter titles that refer to Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and the way cancer turns our world topsy-turvy aren’t bad, either.

There are simply not enough superlatives for this book, and if I were to create a “required reading for life” list, The Emperor of All Maladies would earn a spot near the top.  This one gets a very enthusiastic 5 out of 5 and an urge to go buy it. Now.

Related posts:

  1. The Book Lady’s Best of 2010: Nonfiction
  2. “A literary thriller with cancer as the protagonist…”
  3. Books for Your Beach Bag: Nonfiction Frenzy
  4. In which I comment on the New York Times 10 Best Books of 2010
  5. Book Review: Just Don't Fall by Josh Sundquist