I’ll admit, I had a preconceived notion about how enjoyable a book about cell culture could be, and it wasn’t favorable. I thought of biology textbooks, clinical studies, cold histories of milestones in scientific history. The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks is none of those things. In this nonfiction work, science writer Rebecca Skloot presents a meditation on science, ethics, class, and race that is both informative and moving.

Credit: The Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc.

The book tells the story of Henrietta Lacks, a black woman who showed up at Johns Hopkins Hospital in 1951 with an aggressive case of cervical cancer. Two dime-sized samples were taken from her cervix, and the cells culled from these tissue samples would become one of the greatest breakthroughs in cell culture history: the world’s first immortal human cell line. This immortal cell line, named HeLa by the scientist George Gey, went on to become one of the most influential advances in science and medicine. Scientists had been struggling for years to get cells to survive in culture, and HeLa cells proliferated quickly and produced a seemingly never-ending supply for them to work with. The cells were pivotal in advances ranging from the polio vaccine, to gene mapping, to in vitro fertilization. They’ve been blown up by nuclear bombs to test the effects of radiation, and sent into outer space to monitor the effects of zero gravity. Despite the colossal importance of HeLa, not much was known about Henrietta Lacks by the scientific community.

Just as the scientific community didn’t know much about Henrietta Lacks, her family knew even less about her contribution to the world. Although the cells were taken in 1951, the year she died, her husband and five children knew nothing about it. They didn’t find out until 20 years later, when they were approached by researchers who wanted to take blood samples from them to use in HeLa research. The news changed their lives, mostly for the worst. Most of Henrietta’s relatives were uneducated; when scientists showed up stating that Henrietta was immortal and helping to cure diseases, they had no idea what that meant. Was she still alive? Were people doing tests on her? Was she in pain? Were people making money off of her? If she was so important to medicine, how come they couldn’t even afford health insurance? The scientists and journalists who kept showing up on their doorsteps didn’t bother to answer any of their questions, so the family decided to stop talking.

When Skloot showed up, eager to find out about Henrietta by interviewing as many family members and friends as she could, she was met with intense resistance. The family was hostile to anyone, especially anyone white, who was trying to find out information about Henrietta. Only after proving that she sincerely wanted to tell Henrietta’s story was she allowed to talk to the family, and even after working with them for years there were times when the family would question her motives.

The heart of the book is the relationship that develops between Skloot and Henrietta’s youngest daughter, Deborah. Deborah is the Lacks child most affected by learning about HeLa cells, her confusion and anger manifesting in anxiety disorders and other health issues. Skloot and Deborah wanted the same thing: for the world to know and acknowledge Henrietta Lacks. Through their journey of discovery, Deborah is able to learn more about the mother she never knew and come to peace with the existence of HeLa.

Throughout the book, even in her interactions with the Lacks family, Skloot explores the question of medical ethics. Yes, Henrietta’s cells were taken without her knowledge, but that was standard procedure at the time. Institutional review boards were unheard of and the ethical guidelines of scientific research were amorphous at best. Informed consent was not the norm. It was seen as natural that tissue samples would be taken from patients and used in testing; some researchers even injected their patients with cancer cells to see what would happen. There was, and in many ways there still is, an idea that working toward the greater good overrides the need for a patient’s consent. Skloot does not offer her own opinion on this subject. Instead, she simply provides the information in a way that allows the reader to see the situation from both sides: as a researcher trying to help the world and as a patient who feels that some part of them has been stolen.

Skloot is excellent at characterization; despite the vast array of personalities in the story, none of the characters seem contrived or one-dimensional. Skloot not only achieves her goal of teaching the world about Henrietta Lacks, she also introduces you to a host of people whose stories will stay with you long after the last sentence is read. She manages to take several stories (a young woman from southern Virginia whose cervical cells would change the world; a girl who yearns to know who her mother was; researchers and their amazing scientific advancements; a family that sought to understand how someone could be dead and yet immortal) and weave them into one epic and masterfully told tale.

After learning about Henrietta Lacks, you’ll lament the fact that it took so long for her story to get told, but you’ll be glad that Skloot, who obviously cares deeply about her subject, was the one to tell it.