Review: The Song of The Cell: An Exploration of Medicine and the New Human

By Siddhartha Mukherjee

ISBN: 978-1-9821-1735-1

Siddhartha Mukherjee’s latest book, The Song of The Cell: An Exploration of Medicine and the New Human, is an intriguing and at times surprisingly personal dive into our understanding of the cell within the context of past, present, and future human health and medicine.

It’s notable that Mukherjee chose the title The Song of the Cell, not the “saga” or the “epic.” The book is by no means intended to be a comprehensive history of cell biology or our collective knowledge of cell biology in the context of cutting-edge medical research and therapies through the past few centuries. At only 377 pages not including the prelude, notes, and index, it would be pretty impressive for him to attempt to do so in this book. If you’re looking for something of that ilk, Mukherjee recommends Roy Porter’s The Greatest Benefit to Mankind: A Medical History of Humanity, Henry Harris’s The Birth of the Cell, and Laura Otis’s Müller’s Lab in his prelude. Mukherjee is not looking to reinvent the wheel of cellular or human medical history; he is turning it on its side, cross sectioning it, looking at specific parts under a microscope, and sharing his observations, oftentimes couching them with anecdotes from his personal life and clinical experience as an oncologist.

The Song of the Cell is not written in chronological order. Rather, like a song, each part feels like a specific verse with a more narrow message that relates to the overarching chorus of cell biology and the role of cell biology in modern medicine.

In Part One, “Discovery,” Mukherjee goes back to the beginning, so to speak, homing in on the origins of human knowledge of the cell and its role as the fundamental building block of life. In Part Two, “The One and the Many,” Mukherjee starts to delve into the interactions of cells with other cells, touching on our understanding of organelles—the building blocks of the building blocks—as well as of cellular reproduction and our ability to use that knowledge and apply it to medical advancements such as in vitro fertilization. In Part Three, things start to get a little bloody—literally. Titled “Blood,” this part of the book digs into blood cells—how they function, what they are, when they diversify, and where things go wrong when someone develops or contracts a blood-based disease.

If Mukherjee’s book is indeed a song, Part Four, “Knowledge,” which almost exclusively covers the COVID-19 pandemic, feels like a sorrowful interlude. Most of the book is rooted in hope and the idea that mostly good things can come from advancing our knowledge of the cell and its role in human health and healing. But “Knowledge,” which contains only one chapter, titled “Pandemic,” is deeply rooted in a recent, painful and still very present time in our history, and in Mukherjee’s. As a medical doctor in New York City, he was at the frontlines of the pandemic during its most brutal moments. And as incredible as the rapid development of the vaccine was, millions of people have still died, so categorizing the pandemic response as a victory in the face of so much grief and loss seems challenging.

Part Five, “Organs,” delves into cell specialization and how the cells of specific organs play specific roles, while the final part, Part Six, “Rebirth,” delves into stem cell therapy and other therapies being developed that rely on continuing to advance our understanding of cell biology and intracellular interactions in the human body.

The Song of the Cell is lyrically written and well-executed. Its unique balance of history, modern science, and memoir-esque personal flourishes makes it equally easy to read, intellectually stimulating, and emotionally compelling.

Jeanette S. Ferrara, MFA