Hypnerotomachia Poliphili (Drafts) · Track 107 · middle
The Jumping Genes (Barbara McClintock)
The Jumping Genes — Barbara McClintock
Lyrics
[Verse 1] You worked alone in a cornfield on Long Island the way some women work alone in a kitchen they have made theirs by the fact that no one else has bothered to ask where the salt is. You knew every plant in the field by sight the way some women know every face in the church they grew up in. [Verse 2] You looked at the kernels on a single ear of maize under the microscope in the small shed at the edge of the field in nineteen fifty and the variegation was telling you the only thing the variegation could be telling you, which was that the genes that made the color were not staying where the textbook said genes stayed. The genes were jumping. [Chorus] You wrote it up. You gave the talk at Cold Spring Harbor in front of a room of the most distinguished geneticists in the country and they listened politely and went back to their hotels and agreed amongst themselves that the corn lady had been in the cornfield too long. You did not raise your voice. You went back to the corn the next morning in the same straw hat. [Verse 3] Thirty-three years later the Nobel committee called your house and you were already in the field, and you took the call in the afternoon when you came in for water and you said *that's nice* and you went back out to the corn because there were ears to look at and the corn had been right the whole time and you had been right the whole time and the prize had finally caught up to where the two of you were standing. [Outro] The corn did not need the prize and you did not need the prize and the prize needed the corn, which is the order the universe arranges itself in when it is being honest. ---