In the 1950s, a black woman named Henrietta Lacks died when tumors took over her body. Her white doctors harvested her cells, used them to cure diseases and further research, eventually selling them for a profit. Nearly 50 years later, a journalist and her family set out to cement her name in medical history forever.
I’ve been meaning to read this book forever. Pretty much every reader I know has read and loved it, and it’s especially known as a nonfiction book that reads like a compelling, if alarming work of fiction. When I found it at The Strand during our New York City trip, I knew it was a sign.
Who knew a book about cells could be so interesting? So emotional? So compelling? Check it out.