These determinations of cells’ fates — what type of specialized cell they will become — occur in stages throughout embryonic development. Because each cell type has a characteristic pattern of gene activity, scientists assumed that the decisions cells make are dictated by genes: specifically, networks of genes that turn each other on and off, initiating a cascade that forms the correct types of cells in the correct order.
But genes are not the whole story. New research has shown the extent to which cell metabolism — the chemical reactions within a cell that provide energy and materials for growth — has an important, underappreciated role in directing cell fates.
On one level, Nova Scotia House is a poignant love story about a survivor whose life partner was snatched away far too soon. On another, it’s a cathartic tribute to the many others lost to the same disease.
When an express train smashes through the barriers at Montparnasse, screeches across the concourse and emerges through an exterior wall, panicked onlookers assume it’s a terrorist attack. Plus ça change; this happened in October 1895 and is the inspiration for Emma Donoghue’s new novel, which takes place on that train as it hurtles from Granville to Paris.
The antagonism has abated in recent years, but the John-Paul duality persists. Heavy rocker versus cute populist. Working-class rebel v smug bourgeois clone. Tormented genius v girly sentimentalist. Strawberry Fields Forever v Penny Lane.
Ian Leslie takes on these tired polarities by reframing the story as a volatile bromance: “passionate, tender and tempestuous, full of longing, riven by jealousy”. However much at odds temperamentally, John and Paul were an indivisible twosome, the driving force of the Beatles, with George and Ringo (not much featured here) as add-ons. The emotional ties they shared, not least the early loss of their mothers, weren’t ones they could talk about, so they sang them instead. As Paul put it: “You can tell your guitar things that you can’t tell people.”