It was in the archives of the Archbishop of York that Matthew Collins had an epiphany: He was surrounded by millions of animal skins.

Another person might say they were surrounded by books and manuscripts written on parchment, which is made from skins, usually of cows and sheep.Collins, however, had been trying to make sense of animal-bone fragments from archaeological digs, and he began to think about the advantages ofstudying animal skins, already cut into rectangles and arranged neatly on a shelf. Archaeologists consider themselves lucky to get a few dozensamples, and here were millions of skins just sitting there. "Just an obscene number," Collins told me, his voice still giddy at thepossibilities in their DNA.

In recent years, archaeologists and historians have awakened to the potential of ancient DNA extracted from human bones and teeth. DNA evidencehas enriched-and complicated-stories of prehistoric human migrations. It has provided tantalizing clues to epidemics such as the black death.It has identified the remains of King Richard III, found under a parking lot. But Collins isn't just interested in human remains. He'sinterested in the things these humans made; the animals they bred, slaughtered, and ate; and the economies they created.

Collins splits his time between Cambridge and the University of Copenhagen, and it's hard to nail down exactly what kind of -ologist he is. Hehas a knack for gathering experts as diverse as parchment specialists, veterinarians, geneticists, archivists, economic historians, and proteinscientists (his own background). "All I do is connect people together," he said. "I'm just the ignorant one in themiddle."

The National Science Foundation would tell him that they didn't work on livestock, and he should call the USDA. He'd talk to the USDA, andthey'd tell him that medieval books fell under the purview of the National Endowment for the Humanities. He'd talk to humanities people, andthey'd say, Genetics research? That already has all the money. "I really did get on this constant loop of everyone wanting me to callsomeone else," Stinson says.

It didn't take long for the group to hit their first culture clash. In science and archaeology, destructive sampling is at least tolerated, ifnot encouraged. But book conservators were not going to let people in white coats come in and cut up their books. Instead of giving up or fightingthrough it, Sarah Fiddyment, a postdoctoral research fellow working with Collins, shadowed conservationists for several weeks. She saw that they usedwhite Staedtler erasers to clean the manuscripts, and wondered whether that rubbed off enough DNA to do the trick. It did; the team found a way toextract DNA and proteins from eraser crumbs, a compromise that satisfied everyone.

To read the complete article, see:
The Lab Discovering DNA in Old Books(https://www.theatlantic.com/science/archive/2019/02/dna-books-artifacts/582814/)

To read the earlier E-Sylum articles, see:
STOP AND SMELL THE BOOKS (https://www.coinbooks.org/v20/esylum_v20n10a32.html)
A WHIFF OF HISTORY FROM BOOKS(https://www.coinbooks.org/v20/esylum_v20n16a37.html)