This past week I have been reading up on molecular and cell
biology. As a chemist, who is interested in the origin of life, it behooves me
to educate myself in areas outside my field of expertise. This is part of why I
make the effort to learn more biology, physics, geoscience and complex systems.
Another part of the reason could be that as a proponent of a liberal arts
education leading to life-long learning, I should practice what I preach and
keep learning. However, the part that keeps me going is that I simply find it
fun to learn new things. The very fascinating cell represents the basic building block or unit
of life. Omnis cellula e cellula
(“all cells come from other cells”) was Rudolf Virchow’s famous aphorism back
in 1855.
The confluence of writing a blog, reading biology and
reading Harry Potter, leads to interesting thoughts and associations. This has
been an enjoyable and unexpected effect of starting the blog. I’ve now made
connections (some tenuous) among different fields and have come up with all sorts
of ideas (some crazy) that I can bat around.
So, what do the following three things have in common from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire? Ton-Tongue Toffee. Polyjuice Potion. Gillyweed.
In case you haven’t read the book (gasp!) let’s summarize
what happens when these three items are “consumed”. When Harry’s cousin, the
greedy Dudley, eats Ton-Tongue Toffee, his tongue grows at an alarming rate in
both size and mass. Polyjuice Potion is used to change one’s appearance to that
of another person. An important ingredient of the potion is a “body
part” (e.g. hair or fingernail) of the person one is changing into. When Harry
chews gillyweed it allows him to “grow” gills to breathe underwater, in
addition to webbing between his toes and fingers allowing him to swim quickly and
smoothly.
From the book it is clear that the potion and gillyweed are
both temporary effects, i.e., after some time the effects wear off and the user
returns to his or her original state. The effects of the toffee are magically
reversed quickly by Arthur Weasley, father of the Weasley twins who are the co-inventors
of the toffee. The twins also invented Canary Creams, which when eaten, turn one
temporarily into a canary. After a while the canary moults to reveal the person
who ate it restored to normal. By analogy, the toffee's
effects might also be temporary.
Genetically-modified foods have sometimes been dubbed
“frankenfoods” (after Frankenstein’s monster) and the wilder speculations describe monstrous deformities affecting the consumer. Given that
scientists studying the fruit fly Drosophila
melanogaster have successfully genetically reprogrammed mutants to sprout
(or I should say develop) extra eyes, wings, legs, antennae, in parts other
than their “natural” state, it is easy to paint a picture of creating
“monsters” through eating genetically-engineered foods. In the fruit fly
mutants, these deformities are typically permanent if one has modified the
genetic code that programs the development of its body parts. This is similar
to when Peter Parker gets bitten by the spider and becomes Spider-Man. In the
newer 2012 movie The Amazing Spider-Man,
cross-species genetics features as a prominent theme. The main antagonist, Dr.
Curt Connors, makes use of reptile/lizard genes in an effort to regrow his
missing limb. The initial dose is temporary, i.e., the lizard transforms back
into Connors after some time.
In genetically-modified foods, direct changes are made to
the DNA of the organism. The result of this change is that the DNA can now code
for proteins that enhance the organism in some way (usually to prevent disease
or predation in crops). Another way to make changes is through viral infection.
In this case, the virus hijacks the cellular and metabolic machinery of its
host to replicate the viral DNA allowing the virus to proliferate. This change
is not permanent in the sense that the host organism’s DNA is not modified.
Perhaps this is how the Polyjuice Potion works. A viral solution amplifies the
DNA of the person being changed into (obtained from the fingernail or hair)
with great speed, but the effects are temporary.
The Ton-Tongue Toffee on the other hand resembles what some cancerous
cells may do, i.e., they keep replicating themselves and grow out of control.
Anything that disrupts the cell cycle machinery and messes up the timing of
cell division and growth, can be cancer-causing. The toffee may have certain
molecules that recognize and target tongue cells and then cause them to
multiply unrestrained. In this case, the DNA of the host does not necessarily need
modification. Instructions to the cell to replicate non-stop are sufficient.
DNA is the blueprint in this case, but does not necessarily direct the show.
In a delightful and very readable book, Your Inner Fish: A Journey into the 3.5 Billion Year History of the Human Body, the
biologist/paleontologist Neil Shubin connects the human body plan to
evolutionarily older body plans including ancient fish. (Apparently there’s a
TV series too, which I haven’t watched so I cannot vouch for it personally.) While
a marquee example is the connection between the fins of the ancient Tiktaalik and human arms, fish gills
also come up as part of the story. Apparently human
muscles, nerves and bones, used in speech correspond to gill structures in fish;
and apparently you can find people with a “gill hole” above their ears. (I have
not successfully seen this since it might be rude to get up close and stare at
someone’s ear area.) Now there might be some fishy genes in our human DNA that
can be easily turned on by Hox genes or the homeobox, important in directing organismal development. If so, maybe chewing on
gillyweed releases the appropriate molecules that activate our fishy genes. Alternatively,
this could be triggered the same way Curt Connors a.k.a. Lizard acquired temporary
reptilian characteristics.
The purpose of this mental escapade is
not to try and “explain” how things work in the Harry Potter universe. Clearly
I am also outside my scientific area of expertise as my own research does not overlap much with extant biochemistry (yet). Rather, I think
it is interesting that magical folks use magical “spells”, but they also make
use of a continuum of objects, some of which may be “naturally” magical, and
others might be imbued with magic (as in an object intentionally charmed by a
wizard or witch). The boundary of what is natural and unnatural (perhaps
monstrous) is no longer as clear in our world. The boundary between organic
chemistry and inorganic chemistry is not so easy to define. Is there a similar
blurring of the lines between magic and nonmagic? What is it about Care of
Magical Creatures or Herbology that makes a living species a magical one, or
one with magical properties?
The short, and perhaps unsatisfying, answer:
More fodder for my blog.
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