Herding Hemingway's Cats: the perfect primer in genetics for a novice and a fun read for an expert

Herding Hemingway's Cats: Understanding How Our Genes Work has been on my reading list for a few months. When I saw the author Kat Arney tweet that the Kindle price was only $1.99, I took advantage of the price drop and downloaded it right away. I was glad I did, but I do feel a little guilty that I didn't pay full price because it really would have been worth it!

I have reviewed many books on the subject of genetics (I  particularly enjoyed The Violinist's Thumb, Junk DNA, and Inheritance). Nonetheless, I found Hemingway's Cats to have a refreshing take on some well-covered topics; of course, it also taught me some new things and discussed the most recent research. Thus, I recommend this book as an excellent introduction to genetics because it would be suitable for people with little knowledge of genetics; it would also be great for someone who knows the field, but wants to expand or refresh their knowledge.

It seems that one requirement for a book about genetics is an extended analogy for the genome. Sometimes these are clever and useful, but run their course rather quickly (e.g., Matt Ridley's Genome talks about the genome as a book with 23 chapters/chromosomes). Here, Arney makes the occasional comparison between the genome and a set of recipe books. The collection contains thousands of recipes for cake, soups, and casseroles. In her analogy, the librarian never lets the recipes out of her sight, so you have to copy the recipe in the library (the nucleus) and then export the recipe to make it in your kitchen. Sometimes, you need lots of one thing– like a large batch of cupcakes for a bake sale, but other times you just make a single serving. Arney revisits this analogy over the course of the book and it always seems to fit perfectly and it doesn't get overused.

At the start of the Human Genome Project, a  betting pool began among the scientific community to guess the number of protein–encoding genes in the complete human genome (the winner was Lee Rowen, who bet on 25,947, the actual number was 24, 847). Of course, the amount of our genome that is actually of use and the reason humans have so much extra DNA is still a matter of debate. Humans (owing perhaps to our inflated sense of self) figured that the size of the genome would correlate with the complexity of the organism. This turned out to be false – for example, "water fleas the size of a grain of rice have 30,000 genes." One hypothesis to explain all that extra DNA is that some of it protects the important parts of our genomes from mutations–the biological equivalent of bubble wrap. Here, she makes some great comparisons with moving house, making cookies, and television programming. This is a strength throughout the book, which is peppered with fun and useful analogies that help clarify the scientific concepts.  

Arney also hits new and hot topics, like epigenetics/epigenomics, imprinting, CRISPR, and the ever-expanding list of RNAs. In addition, she covers some of the "wow science" one would expect from a popular science book. She describes why the eponymous polydactyl cats have extra toes (mis-regulation of the Sonic Hedgehog gene) and writes about the newest large-scale genome sequencing project (The 100,000 Genomes Project), which aims to sequence the exomes from cancer patients and children with rare diseases and to expand the geographical representation of genomes sequenced thus far. She also speculates on what the future of genetics might be, in particular she focuses on the next dimension of genome sequencing: time. By sequencing the genome of the same individual over time, in combination with the very specific data that can now easily be collected by a smart watch, we might be able to understand how the genome changes as we age and in the context of our lifestyle. It is an exciting time in the field of genetics and molecular biology, and we are particularly lucky to have a writer like Kat Arney to help us understand all the cool things that are happening.

p53: The gene that cracked the cancer code - a review

I wouldn't think that an entire popular science book could be written about one protein, unless that protein is p53. As of this writing, a PubMed search reveals 82,179 scholarly articles about p53. Thus, p53 The Gene That Cracked the Cancer Code by Sue Armstrong has an abundance of source material. Even with the all that information to cover, the author does an excellent job explaining the relevant research in a clear and concise way, using a chronological structure with the main source being interviews with the scientists that did the original research. Unlike many popular science books, Armstrong relies more on the direct quotes from the primary source, ensuring that she gets everything right.

Briefly, p53 (named because the protein is about 53 kilodaltons on a protein gel–a naming convention that swept through some circles of scientific research, but has since been eclipsed by more colorful naming styles) was discovered in 1979. While David Lane is typically credited first, Arnold Levine, Lloyd Old, and Pierre May also deserve acknowledgement for the discovery. Considered to be a tumor suppressor, p53 has cellular roles in genome stability, DNA repair, apoptosis/cell death, and cell metabolism. This book primarily focuses on p53's role as the "guardian of the genome", a term penned to describe that ability of p53 to keep the cell's DNA free of mutations. This role is the primary connection of p53 to cancer: normally, p53 induces cellular suicide (apoptosis/cell death) in cells with DNA damage. p53 is the most commonly mutated gene in cancer and when p53 is mutated, it loses its ability to protect from DNA damage, which can lead to excessive cell growth, a hallmark of tumorigenesis.

Like so many of the books on cancer that I have covered before, this book hit many of the key topics in the area of cancer research. What is unique about this book is that it leads the reader through the sometimes winding roads of scientific research. This includes an in-depth discussion of the p53 mutation database, which collects all the mutations in p53 that have been linked to a variety of cancers. This database has been a rich source of information for researchers over the years. For example, in 1996 researchers showed that lung cancer cases showed p53 mutations in a particular hotspot on the p53 gene. Interestingly, these same mutations were shown by the Pfeifer lab to be induced by the carcinogenic substance in cigarette smoke, benzopyrene diol epoxide (BPDE). This publication was a major win for the 1998 class action lawsuit against Big Tobacco.

Map of p53 mutations and their frequency.

The p53 database has also helped reveal the link between liver cancer, Hepatitis B, and aflatoxin, a poison produced by a fungus that grows on peanuts and other grains when they are stored without adequate ventilation. Typically, HepB causes liver cancer only after many years. However, in places like Asia and Africa, the risk is compounded by the exposure to aflatoxin, a carcinogen known to cause DNA damage. Aflatoxin can induce a mutation in p53 (at codon 2449), which can essentially turn p53 from a tumor suppressor into an oncogene.

The book delves into several of the most damaging p53 mutations. For example, Li-Frameni syndrome (LFS) is a genetic disordered characterized by the early and frequent acquisition of cancer at "every conceivable site in the body". The disease was first described in the early 1980s, but the connection to p53 was not established until the 1990s. A variety of mutations in p53 have been associated with LFS, but the most common hotspot connected to LFS is involved in p53's ability to bind to DNA.

Perhaps the most interesting story in the book describes the cancer clusters in Brazil. Sue Armstrong contributed the story of "Brazil's Cancer Curse" to Mosaic Science; it is a fascinating story and gives a great sense of her writing style. As discussed in the book Toms River, cancer clusters are typically assumed to be caused by a pollutant. Likewise, the Brazilian doctors wondered if that might be the case. However, the research about LFS was starting to garner attention, leading Brazilian clinicians to suspect p53 was also be responsible in the Brazilian cancer cluster. Indeed, sequencing of the p53 gene in affected individuals reveals a mutation at codon 337 to be the most common. Where the story gets really interesting is when scientists attempt to understand how an uncommon mutation fixed in the population at such high frequency. While the source is still debatable, the p53 mutation is now thought to be the result of a founder effect and bottleneck (as described for BRCA mutations in The Wandering Gene).

p53 structure (Wikipedia)

I think I learned the most in the section about the clinical approaches to treating p53 mutations. Here, Armstrong has done a deep dive into the literature about the latest drugs and trials connected to p53 function and dysfunction. Thus, the book is up to date on the available p53-related drugs (as of its publication in November 2014). Armstrong describes several different approaches to treating p53-related cancers, including drugs like Advexin, which uses a viral vector to induce cells to express wild type p53. For reasons that are unclear, Advexin has had mixed success in the US and is still awaiting FDA approval. Perhaps more interesting, is the research on PRIMA-1 (an acronym for p53 re-activation and induction of mass apoptosis), a drug designed to work on mutants of p53 that no longer bind DNA. Essentially, PRIMA-1 induces mutant p53 into its wild type shape, allowing it to re-activate and bind DNA. Thus, PRIMA-1 should target a wide range of p53 conformation mutants and leave wild type p53 alone. Both of these have been major roadblocks in the deisng of previous p53 therapies, especially since p53 is at the center of so many regulatory pathways. The drug is currently in Phase 2 trials. (Here, Armstrong takes a tangent into the history of chemotherapy, specifically its connection to the German use of mustard gas in WWII. This was a fascinating story that I recommend reading more about, for example here or here.) 

Sue Armstrong's p53 book distills a large amount of scientific literature into an interesting and readable book. I don't think I would recommend this as the first book to read if you are just starting to learn about cancer research. To me, the best starting place would be The Philadelphia Chromosome (some might recommend Mukherjee's The Emperor of All Maladies). However, this is an excellent book for those familiar with cancer and looking for the next level of science writing on the topic.

Protein and gene names

There are lots of really great protein and gene names out there.  The Drosophila literature has that novelty in spades.  For example, the cheapdate gene makes flies get tipsy easier than your average fly;  methuselah generates flies that live longer than average; lilliputian flies are quite small.  Based on my post doctoral work, I like diaphanous, the deletion of which causes flies to have wings that are transparent.

In the realm of protein names, I think my favorite may be Shugoshin, which binds to and protects cohesin during cell division; shugoshin is the Japanese word for protector or guardian spirit.  While septin and actin were my favorite proteins when I was in the lab, they are not likely to conjure up any interesting imagery.  I suppose actin has inspired several interesting review titles (e.g. Actin up in the nucleus, Actin' like actin?). The other names that I love are those that give the impression of a gerund spoken with a southern accent.  In my reading today, I came across my new favorite protein name: fidgetin, which is a microtubule severing protein. Other protein names that make me giggle: spastin, profilactin, villin, supervillin. 

In doing a bit of research for this post, I learned that while Sega has no problem with the use of Sonic Hedgehog as a gene name, Pokemon threatened to sue if the gene name was not changed.

Of course, the other end of the spectrum exists. The protein p53 is named simply for the apparent molecular weight on SDS-PAGE.  As a graduate student, I worked with MSP, major sperm protein, named so because it was the major component of Ascaris sperm.

While this practice of creative naming may introduce troubles in creating consistency between species, it certainly can help keep scientists entertained while reading papers.  

Here is a nice list of other gene and protein names from Robert Krulwich.