The Name of The Rose (Book)

Six years ago today, Francis Crick died of colon cancer in San Diego at the age of 88.

Most famous for his 1953 discovery (with James Watson) of the structure of DNA, Crick was also a keen rose cultivator, filling the garden of Wells Cottage, his summer retreat in Suffolk, with blooms. When the BBC wrote to him in the late 1980s to ask if he would participate in a proposed series ‘Portrait of the Twentieth Century’, Crick pithily replied ‘Nice of you to ask me but I think I’d rather water my roses’.

Sadly, there appears to be no ‘Francis Crick’ rose commemorating Crick’s scientific or horticultural passions. But a recently catalogued letter in Crick’s last set of papers poignantly uses a rose metaphor drawn from Umberto Eco to reflect on his last few weeks. Christof Koch, Crick’s longterm collaborator and friend, writes on 5 May 2004 to the neurologist Oliver Sacks:

‘Unfortunately, Francis’s health is deteriorating in an alarming manner. The various medications have made his mind drowsy and sluggish and it takes his brain hours to ‘warm up’ and be his usual decisive self. He is, of course, very much aware of his condition, which is deeply frustrating to him; but he bravely soldiers on. To me, Francis resembles…

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