84 pages • 2 hours read
James D. WatsonA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
When Perutz is sent a rough theory on how to detect helices in x-ray diffraction images, Cricks has a look, spots a problem and excitedly sets about finding a solution. The theory would be an important asset, as it would provide a means to decisively prove Pauling’s a-helix.
Crick discusses his ideas with Bill Cochran, an x-ray diffraction specialist at the Cavendish. Both think they’re onto something and set to work.
That night, Crick and his wife go to a wine tasting. Watson tells us about Crick’s wife, Odile and their social life. They’ve been married for three years, and live in a small apartment which Odile has decorated, “in a cheerful, if not playful spirit” (46).
Watson has become a friend and regular fixture at their home. He admires Odile’s continental influence, and sees them as a charming intellectual couple, in revolt against “the stodginess of the middle classes” (46). They avoid politics, but both are regular readers of Vogue and like to talk about the young women (“popsies”) of Cambridge and related gossip. On the topic of young women Crick is an enthusiastic contributor.
The next morning Crick comes in with a finished solution. Cochran arrives with almost exactly the same solution and they jointly write a paper confirming the helical diffraction theory. This is Crick’s first substantial success.
Watson attends Franklin’s talk in London, having learned the crucial things to look out for: whether Franklin’s latest pictures lend any support to a helical structure. It becomes clear Franklin is on a very different track. She has no interest in model-building with “tinker-toys” (49) and was utterly unconvinced by ideas of a helix structure. For her, “the only way to establish the DNA structure was by pure crystallographic approaches” (49), a journey they were only just starting.
Watson notes there “was not a trace of warmth or frivolity in her words” (49), and momentarily wonders how she would look if she took of her glasses and did something with her hair. The audience is described as browbeaten.
Afterwards, Watson finds Wilkins in good spirits. He happily tells Watson that Franklin has made little progress and he seems pleased that a “phage person” is interested in his DNA work. There follows criticism of various types of scientists vaguely involved in the field, from “muddled” botanists to woolly geneticists. Wilkins seems ready to push ahead with DNA, but when his thoughts turn again to Franklin, he loses heart.
On the train, on a trip to Oxford, Crick asks Watson about Franklin’s talk. Crick is annoyed by Watson’s vagueness but latches onto the specific water content of Franklin’s DNA samples.
Watson reflects that it might not be entirely fair that they were getting Franklin’s research at the same time as Wilkins, but also that Wilkins showed no interest in model building.
Seizing on the water value data, Crick hits on something. After scribbling madly, he explains there are only a few possible solutions compatible with helical diffraction theory and Franklin's data. A decision needs to be made about the number of helical chains in the structure. By the time they get off the train, Crick feels they’re just a few weeks work from a solution.
Watson reflects it would be an opportunity for the Cavendish to claim an important victory over Pauling, who had beaten Bragg and company to answers on several occasions.
Throughout the day in Oxford, Crick excitedly talks through the progress made, and possible arrangements of nucleotides. They fix on a model with a central sugar phosphate backbone and ponder the problem of what neutralises the charges of the phosphate group of the backbone. Needing to learn more about inorganic ions they track down a copy of Pauling’s seminal book - The Nature of the Chemical Bond.
They have tea at Magdalen college, and meet the English philosopher George Kreseil. Crick is already talking in terms of “impending triumphs,” and Watson, pleasantly drunk, “spoke at length of what we could do when we had DNA” (58).
Watson and Crick start on the molecular modelling, believing, “an answer is possible in a day or so” (59). The models were built for different experiments months before, so they have to improvise with copper wire, in order to create larger atoms. Inorganic ions present problems, as they obey no basic rules about the angles of chemical bonds.
They go to lunch at the Eagle (their usual haunt) and Watson tells of a regular lunch partner, Hugh Huxley, working on muscle contraction. Crick has been doing his usual trick of trying to interpret Huxley’s data for him.
Over lunch they talk about whether to assume two, three or four chained helices in DNA. Salt bridges are their best guess at what binds the compound, where divalent cations, like magnesium, hold the phosphatase group together. Franklin’s sample showed no evidence for this, so they’re “sticking their necks out”, but hope to find a decisive “elegant structure” that will prove the matter (63).
Frustratingly, they find there’s no restriction to the angles of bond types for several important atoms. By contrast to Pauling’s a-helix, they’re facing multiple possible arrangements of nucleotides. But after tea, a compelling shape emerges: three chains twisted around each other, with the sugar-phosphate backbone in the centre and divalent cations binding the structure.
In high spirits, they have dinner with Odile, who is pleased at Cricks’ success but has little grasp of science. We learn Crick isn’t inclined to teach her after she once told him gravity only goes three miles into the sky. They do both appreciate the personal implication of success, though, as “they would be able to own a car” (64). Instead of science, they talk about one of Odile’s pretty friends.
After fine-tuning the model the next morning, they decide it’s time to test it against Franklin’s data. If correct, it would be able to predict certain features in the data. Crick phones Wilkins to say they’re close to a possible solution. Wilkins says he’ll come and see, but doesn’t share their excitement. Later, he phones back to say he’ll come the next morning, along with his colleague, Willy Seeds, and Franklin.
These chapters chart an exciting burst of progress, beginning with Crick’s success on helical diffraction and then moving to the use of Franklin’s data as a spring board for a viable DNA structure. They make quick, excited progress and by the end of Chapter 12 are looking close to a breakthrough.
There is also though a hint of something impetuous in the hunt for that “elegant solution,” an over-enthusiasm, perhaps, to catch the answer quickly. Here their gambling tendency comes into tension with the full complexity of the task. We also have the introduction of Crick’s wife, Odile, and a return to questions of sex and gender.
Odile presents an interesting contrast to Rosalind Franklin, who is implicitly criticised for resisting conventional gender norms in both her appearance and attitude. Odile, by contrast, seems to Watson the ideal wife for an intellectual: she is charming and intelligent, but in a non-threatening way. She shows no interest in science; her focus instead is on fashion, style, and the Cambridge social scene. While she may be presented as a bohemian, in terms of normative gender roles, her relationship with Crick is very conventional: her sphere is the home, which she is praised for making so “cheerful, if not playful” (46).
Conversation with Odile often turns to the young attractive women in Cambridge, “popsies,” as Watson refers to them. They are discussed as objects of attraction and amusement that add “sparkle to life” (47) but they are presented as existing in a different domain to the serious world of work and science. One’s mind may be on science or women, but for Watson, the two are very much considered separate spheres of interest. The line in Chapter 12, “all thoughts of women […] were banished as soon Francis breezed into the lab” (65), neatly captures this sense of separation. That same implicit separation seems to inform Crick’s relationship with his wife.
One of the reasons Franklin seems to present a problem in Watson’s narrative is because her presence confuses this neat distinction. She is both a woman and a serious scientist, but because of the limiting way both femininity and science are here defined, it’s as if she can’t quite either properly be one or the other (and certainly not both at the same time). Because of this she retains a fundamental ambiguity. It’s almost like she herself is an irregular molecule that refuses to be neatly solved. In Chapter 10, when she delivers her lecture, Watson flippantly struggles with this ambiguity, imagining what she would look like with a more attractive hairstyle before bringing his mind back to the scientific content of her lecture. In contrast to the charming Odile, there is “no warmth or frivolity in her words” (49).
For all this, her scientific talent and importance cannot be dismissed, and it is her evidence which will prove crucial. Her strength in this respect is presented in another problematic way: it is comically re-imagined as a kind of matronly authority. The lecture is described almost as a telling-off. Molecular models become “tinker-toys” (49) and her authority is presented as comically emasculating. Watson reflects it would be “a bad way to go out […] to be told, by a woman, to refrain from venturing an opinion” (50).
It is a point made in a light-hearted tone, but it is nonetheless another troubling moment for the modern reader. Is the only way Franklin’s intellectual authority can be processed is as a threat to masculine identity? She is literally presented as impeding Wilken’s work on DNA through her gender.
As Watson and Crick close in on a solution, the question of motivation is raised again. What seems to drive them most is not the noble pursuit of scientific truth, but a sense of proving themselves and scoring a major victory: “then it would be obvious to the world that Pauling was not the only one capable of true insight” (55).
Perhaps this is another example of Watson’s noted honesty and frankness, an insight into the very human motivations that lie behind science and its development. It also has the effect of making science feel a bit like a boyish race or a game; the fact that their main tools superficially resemble “tinker-toys” adds another resonance to this point.
We see other mini-examples of this same gaming spirit. It’s in the race between Cochran and Cricks for the helical diffraction theory, and in the aside in Chapter 12, where Watson tells us of Cricks’ lunchtime attempts to interpret Huxley’s data.
Like all games, the game of science comes with its rules, the etiquette of “fair play,” and the possibility of grey-areas and foul-play. One of the big questions posed by Watson’s account is whether they ever overstepped the bounds of fair play.
We also have in the Crick-Huxley aside another repetition of the tension between the experimental and the theoretical approaches. Crick works in sweeping, conjecturing theories that can move quickly, but ultimately need the verification of the more ponderous empirical approaches.
This is played out in larger form in the opposition between Crick &Watson’s and Wilkins & Franklin’s respective approaches to solving DNA. Despite their differences, Wilkins and Franklin are both unconvinced by the game of theorising and model-building, and believe in the steady experimental approach. Crick and Watson at this point may be paying too little heed to the experimental, as they get caught up in the race, and the possibility that their theorising can deliver a quick win.