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67 pages 2 hours read

Siddhartha Mukherjee

The Emperor of All Maladies: A Biography of Cancer

Nonfiction | Autobiography / Memoir | Adult | Published in 2010

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Symbols & Motifs

Cancer

Throughout the book, Mukherjee depicts cancer as an “enemy.” For a long time, people considered cancer an external enemy that researchers were battling. However, it became clear over time that cancer evolved from our own cells and our own genome. It is not an external agent but an emanation from ourselves. Therefore, cancer is part of us, and our own life and death and together intertwined. As virologist Harold Varmus, winner of the Nobel Prize said, “In our adventures, we have only seen our monster more clearly and described his scales and fangs in new ways—ways that reveal a cancer cell to be, like Grendel, a distorted version of our normal selves” (363). Varmus realized by the late 1980s that cancer is a disease that comes from us, much in the same way Grendel, a monster in medieval literature, was a distorted version of a human being.

The author examines the fact that cancer is part of our own bodies. We are born with the potential to develop cancer. However, cancer cells are smarter, better versions because they can mutate and grow more quickly than normal cells. Cancer cells are also able to create pathways that provide them with blood supplies and prevent their death. Cancer is the enemy within, and it is a wily, driven enemy.

The author states that “we were destined to carry this fatal burden in our genes” (363). Therefore, researchers’ long hunt for an external agent, or enemy, came full circle back to our own genes. The blueprint for cancer is something we are born with, and it is using our own genome that we can best fight against it. 

Jammed Accelerators and Failed Brakes

The author uses car parts to describe the way in which cancer develops in cells. In proto-oncogenes, mutations cause the cells to divide endlessly, as if they were a car with a jammed accelerator. Tumor suppressor genes that don’t work are like brakes that fail. They are supposed to curb growth, but they do not do so in cancerous cells. This description helps the reader understand the mechanism by which cancers can develop in the body.

However, the author emphasizes that these events do not happen with regularity and that mutations after mutations must occur before cancer grows in the body. Jammed accelerators and failed brakes are rare occurrences: “In genetic terms, our cells were not sitting on the edge of the abyss of cancer. They were dragged toward that abyss in graded, discrete steps” (386). Although genes can develop into proto-oncogenes and tumor suppressors can fail, these are rare events. Our bodies do not poise on the brink of disaster. Instead, genes must go through several different mutations before cancer develops. These mutations, including jammed accelerators and failed brakes, are possible, but they do not always happen.

Red Queen’s Race

At the end of the book, Mukherjee compares developing cancer treatments to the “Red Queen’s Race” (440), an allusion to Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking-Glass, in which Alice runs but still stays in the same place. Cancer treatment is ever-evolving, and sometimes even targeted therapies, such as Gleevec, do not work on drug-resistant forms of cancer. Therefore, the quest to find cures is ever-evolving: As cancer cells mutate constantly, so must our treatments for cancer.

Mukherjee predicts that this “Red Queen syndrome” (444) will continue to characterize the future of cancer: We will always be marching just to stand still. As new treatments evolve, the disease itself will change, and therefore, we will need to be ever-changing ourselves. The author writes that “the relentlessness, the inventiveness, the resilience, the queasy pivoting between defeatism and hope” (466) will always mark our battle against cancer. He believes that human hubris, the belief that we can somehow master the movement of our own cells, will constantly be frustrated. Instead, science will always be playing a game of catch-up with our biology.

Atossa’s War

The author describes what it would have been like for Atossa, a Persian queen who lived around 500 BCE and who likely had breast cancer, to have lived during different periods of time. In ancient times, there was no cure, save a mastectomy. In later times, physicians would have subjected her to bloodletting to let the excess black bile in her system escape. In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, she would have received radiation, a radical mastectomy, and chemotherapy. By the 1990s, she would have received Herceptin, a targeted therapy.

Atossa stands for the way in which medical thinking and treatment have shifted over time. Today, she would have a better prognosis. However, if she had a disease such as pancreatic cancer, her prognosis would only be marginally better today than in ancient times. She also represents the heterogeneity of cancer treatments. Some have been remarkably successful, such as those for breast cancer, while some, such as those for pancreatic cancer, have not been as successful. Therefore, scientists must qualify the idea of whether we’ve scored a victory in the 4,000-year war against cancer by which type of cancer we are referring to. 

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