Download PDF by Francine Mary Netter: Medicine's Michelangelo: The Life & Art of Frank H. Netter,
By Francine Mary Netter
Medicine's Michelangelo is a striking and primary significant biography of Frank H. Netter, MD, written via his daughter, Francine Mary Netter. She captures the nature of the guy and tells his lifestyles tale utilizing not just her remembrances but in addition Frank Netter's personal autobiographical notes, own correspondence and personal documents, courses of his paintings and public records, and greater than a hundred interviews with kin, artists, amazing practitioners and scientists. greater than account of his momentous profession, this publication presents a private creation to the fellow at the back of the paintings.
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Extra resources for Medicine's Michelangelo: The Life & Art of Frank H. Netter, Md
If he had had a muse, it was she. 9 Mary was one of nine siblings—four boys, Oscar Lee, Aubrey, Bernice (Ber´-nis), whom everyone called Doodle, and Jack, all older than Mary; an older sister, Katie, who adored Mary; and three younger 47 Medicine’s Michelangelo sisters, Ella, Irene, whom everyone called “Renie,”1 and Evelyn, the baby of the family. Most of their ancestors had settled in coastal North Carolina before the American Revolution. 4 When the Union navy sought to halt the trade in and out of Southern ports, Duncan made and lost a small fortune as a blockade runner.
In the class picture that year, 27 taken outside on the school steps, the students sat all crowded together, Frank in the front row with the class officers, Mary in the second row just behind him and to his left. And as lovers do, they are leaning their bodies ever so slightly toward each other. 28 Dr. Frederick Freed was the clinical professor in obstetrics. He was known for his down-to-earth sensibility, wit and practical application of scientific practices. 29 Of course, if they got into trouble they could call the obstetrician, but most deliveries were normal.
That evening, I was sitting down front in the class, right close to the model who, it just so happened, had assumed what might be called a somewhat licentious pose. It was a hot, muggy night and many of the students looked pretty disheveled, ties off [and] collars open. I heard the door open and I looked around and there was my mother standing in the doorway with the instructor. I could tell by the expression on her face that she already saw me going down the pathway to a dissolute life—that she envisioned me starving in that garret room with a beard Medicine’s Michelangelo and a turtleneck sweater and long hair, whiskey bottles strewn about and nude women draped over the furniture, smoking cigarettes in long holders, as I prepared to cut off my ear.