My sister-in-law Barbara is an herbalist, maintaining her health and treating illnesses with medicinal herbs. Long before our Nitwit-In-Chief put down his golf clubs to mislead everyone about the Covid-19 pandemic, Barbara was texting us to get some elderberry syrup and take three to four teaspoons daily. Her beep woke me at 3:25 am – I texted back “Stop it!”
But later that very morning, as if arranged by Barbara, I opened my mail to find a review copy of Plants That Cure, a text on natural medicine authored by Elizabeth A. Dauncey, a freelance plant toxicologist, and Melanie-Jayne R. Howes, a pharmacist and chartered chemist. I immediately flipped through the index to find “elder”: “Raw elderberries can be toxic, but syrups and vinegars made by heating dried elderberries may be used for colds and flu. There is some evidence that such remedies stimulate the immune response to viruses and prevent their attachment to the respiratory system, and also have the more direct effect of soothing a sore throat.”
“Some evidence” is the point at which some people say, “Show me the data” and, “If elderberry syrup were efficacious, my doctor would be prescribing it.” In casual conversation, the subject of natural remedies may lead to outright antagonism, as some ask, “Aren’t the more militant herbalists, who deride pharmaceuticals and medical protocols, just as anti-science as global warming deniers?”
Dauncey and Howes have done us all a favor by providing a highly informative overview of the array of herbal substances at our disposal. One soon learns that there is no chasm between herbs and pharmaceuticals. For instance, many over the counter cold relief products contain ephedrine and pseudoephedrine, derived from Ephedra sinica or Chinese Ephedra which has been used “for thousands of years, with the earliest written record of it found in the Shen Nong Ben Cao Jing or The Drug Treatise of the Divine Countryman.” The authors tell us that the plant’s alkaloids were first isolated in 1885; thirty years later, “its stimulatory effect on the sympathetic nervous system and similarity in action to the neurotransmitter adrenaline (epinephrine) were discovered.”
Plants That Cure is a work of history, a tutorial on how plant-based substances work chemically, botanical family descriptions, and an overview of human applications. Much of the classical knowledge derives from specific practices, each described: Ayurveda, European medicine (Greek, Roman), traditional Chinese medicine, and Japanese Kampo. The discovery of biologically active substances from plants (or other natural sources) is called “pharmacognosy.” The Greeks came up with the word pharmakon, meaning “drug.” But our modern era of “isolating single chemicals from plants for use as medicines” began in 1804 when the chemical called morphine was first derived from the poppy. Aspirin was first synthesized and manufactured in 1899 – but the ancient Sumerians are known to have made a tea from willow bark extract which contains salicin, aspirin’s active ingredient.
Dauncey and Howes proceed to organize plants in chapters devoted to the human circulatory system, nervous system, digestive system, other organs (liver, pancreas, etc) and glands, fighting infections and boosting immunity, reducing pain and improving movement, skin and eye health, the reproductive system, and fighting cancer. Each chapter then addresses specific conditions. In the nervous system chapter, a section on “depression and low mood” brings news about St. John’s wort, saffron, and snakeroot.
Plants That Cure is also a gorgeous, oversized book, filled with sidebars and graphics, photography and chemical diagrams. One thing the book isn’t is comprehensive, nor does it promise to be. The authors don’t venture into dosages or recipes. Last December while visiting Los Angeles, my daughter took me to a Moon Juice store; Moon Juice sells “adaptogenic” products for stress management, hair nutrition, skin care and so forth. I tried one of their ginger and oil of oregano shots. When I returned home, I looked up a recipe for a similar drink and made it – including turmeric, lemon juice as a base, and coconut oil. Plants That Cure includes nothing on oil of oregano (which my sister-in-law warns is quite potent and must be used sparingly). But about ginger, the authors speak of “gingerol,” the plant’s famously pungent compound which “has a carminative effect that reduces nausea and vomiting.” Classically, it was used by the Greeks and Romans for colds, chest infections, joint pain and digestive complaints – though ginger’s “thermogenic heat-producing effect” may be the whole show. Show me the data.
In 2014, the Nobel Prize in Physiology and Medicine was shared by three researchers – including Tu Youyou, 84-years old at the time, who had isolated the active compound in Sweet Wormwood as artemisinin, shown to fight malaria. The malaria parasite had developed an immunity to existing drugs but fell prey to Dr. Tu’s discovery. Plants That Cure gives ample proof that new drugs will continue to be developed from plants.
I’m continuing to drink my ginger-turmeric-oil of oregano tonic, and I looked up the several possible side effects of the oil. As for turmeric, Dauncey and Hayes say, “Some studies suggest that in countries where people consume more turmeric, the rates of certain cancers appear to be lower” – and they spell out how turmeric kills cancer cells, prevents cell proliferation, reduces oxidative stress, and scavenges free radicals. I’m a believer – and I recommend Plants That Cure for anyone wanting to develop a foundation of knowledge about traditional herbal medicine.
[Published by Princeton University Press and The Bright Press/Quarto Group on March 3, 2020, 224 pages, $29.95 hardcover]