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Book Review Going to Pieces without Falling Apart: A Buddhist perspective on

wholeness By Mark Epstein. 200 pp. New York, Broadway Books, 1998. $23. 0-
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Article  in  New England Journal of Medicine · February 1999

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 The Ne w E n g l a nd Jo u r n a l o f Me d ic i ne
Book Reviews
ILLNESS AND CULTURE IN THE POSTMODERN AGE
By David B. Morris. 345 pp.
Berkeley, University of California Press, 1998. $27.50.
ISBN 0-520-20869-2.
O UR minds live in particular bodies, of course — hence
the psychologically shaping influence of biology, as
sickness soon enough reminds us. The onset of a disease
gives us plenty of opportunity for thought, and in no time,
rather often, we are a source of worry for some and of
shame for others, depending on what ails us and where we
happen to live. In a sense, then, genes, viruses, or bacteria,
for all their decisive say in who gets what disease, have only
so much of a hold on things. The families to which we be-
long and the neighborhoods or nations in which we live
exert their influence on us not only as patients but also as
persons who learn to accommodate ourselves to certain
cultural (and religious) norms — the values, ideals, practic-
es, and preferences that inform the world we call our own.
None of the foregoing is all that surprising; it is the stuff
of common sense. Even so, this book by an essayist who
has observed modern medical life deserves respectful at-
tention. David Morris has already (in The Culture of Pain;
Berkeley: University of California Press, 1991) tried to link
a universal aspect of medicine to certain historical and cul-
tural circumstances through literature and art, as he does
here again; indeed, this book’s title announces his intellec-
tual intent, and his discussion of pain helps him approach
his essential subject matter — the way in which a person’s
place in life and his or her beliefs, hopes, and worries all
come to bear on what pain does, how it is interpreted and
handled, and what the consequences are.
Pain “is more than a medical issue,” he insists, “and more
than a matter of nerves and transmitters.” Here, and
throughout this book, Morris takes on what he terms, with
no admiration, “the mechanistic biomedical model.”
Morris calls on a most persuasive and prominent witness,
the novelist Reynolds Price, whose struggle with a tumor
of the spinal cord prompted not only a search for medical
care but also a deeply felt search within himself, an intense
scrutiny of his life, its purpose, and its meaning. To Morris,
Price is a hero, his look inward and outward a kind of tran-
scendence. By implication, Price’s doctors, and many others,
fell far short of such an achievement, wedded as they were
to an insistence on understanding this or that illness phys-
iologically or anatomically, with little or no concomitant
interest in trying to know the afflicted person and trying
to figure out what has happened to him or her in mind,
in spirit, in manner of living and working, and in outlook
on life.
Not that most clinicians need to be reminded that a
changed mental state is an aspect of clinical duress. Many
diseases certainly prompt melancholy stories that started
after cells began to run amok or viruses became destruc-
tive, even lethal, invaders of a body. We are, of course,
asked to keep in mind black-lung disease and malaria, ill-
nesses that make the book’s point, that occur as a result of
a certain kind of lifestyle: work done here, travel undertaken
396 · Febr u ar y 4 , 19 9 9
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there — culture as a determinant of illness and of the char-
acter of illness, its manner of expression. A chapter titled
“Neurobiology and the Obscene” delves into that subject:
“In coprolalia, we confront not just a neurological disor-
der such as uncontrolled twitching but a mobilization of
the complex cultural resource called obscenity.” So it went
in the 19th century for workers who got mercury poisoning
while making hats. They were plagued by tremors and
twitches and were viewed as odd and crazy because of their
speech. Hence the phrase “mad as a hatter” — a vernacular
and intuitive expression that exemplifies the author’s point.
In our time, other troubles come to some of us, and
they, too, tell of us — illness as telltale evidence of life in
society and of values that prompt behavior that in the long
run becomes exceedingly hurtful to a body, to health.
Morris cites a historian who reminds us that “an epidemic
such as AIDS could not have occurred before the mingling
of races, before the liberalization of sexual mores, and,
above all, before medicine had controlled serious infec-
tious diseases and introduced both intravenous injections
and blood transfusions.” Nor is anorexia nervosa without
a decided connection to our modern era — what the author
calls “the biology of self-starvation.” It is a consequence
of culture (advertising on television and in magazines)
come to bear on human desire and, literally, appetite: it is
better to abstain forthrightly than to appear “heavy,” even
if one risks dying.
There are fine moments in this book — when, for in-
stance, Morris calls on the poets Wallace Stevens and Dante
or when he evokes our gadget-filled world (computers, the
Internet, television) and indicates our susceptibility to it as
well as to germs. Even heart disease and cancer can be
prompted by that world and by the activities and habits of
consumption it urges on us. It is well for us doctors to be
aware of these effects, but at moments, alas, we learn that
our failures of clarity or vision are shared by others. “Every
utterance constitutes a miniature text,” Morris tells us, “and
Jacques Derrida makes the crucial point when he writes
that ‘there is no genreless text.’ ” Other such murky theo-
retical flourishes from French writers (Foucault appears fre-
quently) supply ironic evidence that culture can shape not
only the way we act and feel while we are sick, but also how
we think and, worst of all, how we talk and write.
ROBERT COLES, M.D.
Harvard University Health Services
Cambridge, MA 02138
GOING TO PIECES WITHOUT FALLING APART:
A BUDDHIST PERSPECTIVE ON WHOLENESS
By Mark Epstein. 200 pp. New York, Broadway Books, 1998. $23.
ISBN 0-7679-0234-3.
I N the introduction to his book, psychiatrist Mark Epstein
recounts the story of a smart and eager professor who
sought wisdom from an old Zen master. The master of-
fered him tea and, on the professor’s acceptance, poured
the tea into a cup. To the professor’s dismay, however, the
master kept pouring the tea into an overflowing cup, even
as the tea spread across the floor.
 BOOK REV IEWS
“A mind that is full cannot take in anything new,” the
master explained. “Like this cup, you are full of opinions
and preconceptions.” Wisdom and happiness are to be
found only by emptying one’s cup.
With this story, Epstein illustrates what he believes is an
important problem for modern Western culture. Trained to
approach life in the same way as the professor in the parable,
Westerners tend to fill their lives with things and knowl-
edge the way the master filled the cup with tea. In the psy-
chological arena, this gives rise to a sort of psychological
acquisitiveness, whereby we attempt to beef ourselves up
with self-esteem, self-confidence, self-expression, or self-
control. The message of Buddhism, Epstein argues, is that
this Western tendency to build and strengthen the ego to-
ward the ideal of a strong, individuated self will not work.
We come to wisdom and peace of mind only by acknowl-
edging the difficulties that are created by the ego’s blind
need to control and by allowing emptiness to be present
as an inevitable and often valuable state.
Beginning with his own sense of emptiness as a boy in
high school and then presenting a variety of Buddhist par-
ables, clinical anecdotes, and personal examples, Epstein
recounts what he has learned so far in his lifelong journey
to understand the mind. Observations of his undergraduate
classmates at Harvard, his contacts with the Dalai Lama,
his deepening ability to understand and live in both East-
ern and Western worlds during medical school and resi-
dency, and his subsequent contact with several schools of
psychoanalysis, Gestalt therapy, and especially the writings
of Winnicott — this very personal journey reflects Epstein’s
growing conviction that the Western psychological notion
of what it means to have a self is flawed.
Western thought tends to pathologize what is under-
stood in Buddhism as a universally human starting point
for wisdom and self-understanding. The “deficiencies” of
childhood and the “errors” of adult life often do not repre-
sent darkness or void, as they initially seem to, but rather,
are occasions that create the possibility of life and freedom.
Human urges and conflicts are not necessarily pathologic;
instead, they reflect the movement of life as it attempts to
become manifest within us. The point is to allow the con-
flicts to surface and become visible.
In response to the Western proclivity for knowledge,
Epstein offers wisdom from the ancient texts of Buddhism;
in response to the Western bias toward individuation, he
offers connection; in response to the emphasis on rational
mind, he offers mind-in-the-heart. In response to the war-
ring of our cultural dualisms, whether between mind and
body, individual and community, or men and women, he
offers unity and reciprocity. All of this becomes possible
through a “middle way” of nonjudgmental awareness that
avoids either “attachment” or “aversion” to any of these
polarities and, in so doing, transforms experience. Then,
says Epstein, one can live in the lion’s den of life with hon-
esty and authenticity.
In sizing up the possible relevance of Eastern mysticism
to Western postindustrial cultures, it is important to un-
derstand that both Western science and Christianity were
born in what we now call the East and that many modern
problems revolve around ways in which intellectual cate-
gories have been reshaped since then. In the emergence of
the intellectual basis of Western culture, science and values
developed in reaction to each other and, in so doing, be-
came somewhat falsified and alienated from the way in which
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people actually lived their lives. The most extreme separa-
tion occurred in Descartes’s sharp isolation of the worlds
of mind and matter. Since then, medicine has come to
view the body as a machine with parts that could be ma-
nipulated. Personhood came to be understood as an in-
creasingly large and fragmented number of components
and functions, and academic inquiry was cordoned off into
disciplinary ghettos. It is only with growing recognition of
the limits of the Cartesian–Newtonian framework for solv-
ing human problems, the development of quantum me-
chanics, general-systems theory, and brain science, and the
increasing contact between the West and the East that
these old separations are breaking down.
In general, Epstein’s discussion is balanced, and he is
aware of the paradoxical nature of his topic. In his efforts
to explicate the Buddhist worldview, however, he occa-
sionally parodies Western psychology and its notion of the
self. Self-esteem, self-confidence, the building of a strong
self — these are not the problem, although some of his
statements could lead readers to believe otherwise. Instead,
the problem arises when selfhood becomes the only goal.
To become oneself, one must also lose oneself. In the ex-
pression of an idea so dialectical, one statement immedi-
ately implies its opposite. The sweetness of the “middle
way” is not learned easily or quickly, and fictions abound
on both sides of the discussion.
Plato’s Socrates once wondered whether he should be a
politician or a physician — that is, whether he should try
to serve the existing tastes and interests of his fellow citizens
or continually work to improve their minds and souls. Going
to Pieces without Falling Apart will appeal to physicians,
therapists, and patients who, like Socrates, opt for the latter.
JEFFREY REDIGER, M.D., M.DIV.
LESTON HAVENS, M.D.
Cambridge Hospital
Cambridge, MA 02139
THE CAMEL’S NOSE: MEMOIRS OF A CURIOUS
SCIENTIST
By Knut Schmidt-Nielsen. 339 pp., illustrated.
Washington, D.C., Island Press, 1998. $24.95.
ISBN 1-55963-512-6.
It has been said that the primary function of schools is
to impart enough facts to make children stop asking
questions. Some, with whom the schools do not suc-
ceed, become scientists. I never made good grades in
school. At times I nearly failed, and I never stopped ask-
ing questions. Indeed, I have spent most of my life asking
questions and finding answers to how animals manage
in the world around us.
S O begins the autobiography of Knut Schmidt-Nielsen,
professor emeritus of physiology and zoology at Duke
University, who looks back on a life devoted to compara-
tive physiology in its largest and most interesting sense.
Now in his 84th year, Schmidt-Nielsen has received nu-
merous international awards for his contributions to phys-
iology. His writing is lucid, lively, and conversational. His
Vol ume 340 Numb e r 5 · 397
 The Ne w E n g l a nd Jo u r n a l o f Me d ic i ne
textbook on comparative physiology reads like a novel. It
is no surprise that he was the originator and first editor of
the provocative and popular periodical News in the Physio-
logical Sciences.
Schmidt-Nielsen’s life provides evidence of the effects of
both heredity and environmental influences on the devel-
opment of a scientist. His grandfather, an engineer, was
fascinated by the question of whether saltwater flounders
could live in freshwater lakes. His father was an accomplished
Norwegian enzyme chemist, a protégé of the brothers Ed-
uard and Hans Buchner; Eduard received the Nobel prize
in 1907. Schmidt-Nielsen’s Swedish mother had been an
outstanding student of the physicist Svante Arrhenius, an-
other Nobel prize winner, but she regretfully abandoned
her promising scientific career when she married. His post-
graduate mentor was the Danish physiologist August Krogh,
who also received the Nobel prize and whose daughter,
Bodil (later an eminent renal physiologist), Schmidt-Nielsen
married and then divorced. Thor Heyerdahl, who later
crossed the Pacific on a bamboo raft, was a school class-
mate. And his most memorable teacher at school (in natural
history and science) was Viggo Ullmann, the remarkable
grandfather of the actress Liv Ullmann.
The questions Schmidt-Nielsen asked are deceptively
simple, almost childlike. They resemble Rudyard Kipling’s
questions in his Just So Stories for children. (Schmidt-Nielsen
tells us that the favorite author of his mentor Krogh was
Kipling.) How do camels survive in the desert? Why does
the camel have a long nose? Why don’t a duck’s feet freeze
on the ice? How do a penguin’s eggs stay warm? How does
the herring gull get rid of salt? The answers are fascinat-
ing, and to find them the author has journeyed from the
Arctic Circle to the Sahara and the Australian outback. One
of the attractions of comparative physiology is the oppor-
tunity to explore exotic places. The author describes these
adventurous trips with such gusto that the reader may be
forgiven for suspecting that the chance to travel might
sometimes itself be a reason for asking a fascinating ques-
tion about the adaptation of life to a harsh environment.
In an era when departments of physiology in many
medical schools are disappearing or changing their names
to include the up-to-date modifiers “cellular” and “molec-
ular,” it is oddly refreshing to be reminded of the great
questions, with their flavor of teleology and purpose, that
have been considered central to the Queen of Sciences for
at least two centuries. How animals adapt to a hostile en-
vironment is the underlying question that has always mo-
tivated the physiologic inquiries of Schmidt-Nielsen. Marine
birds, snakes, and lizards, living in a salty ocean, secrete
unbelievably high concentrations of salt through glands
located around the eyes and nose. The large ears of desert
jackrabbits stand up and radiate heat, cooling the animal,
as long as air temperatures are lower than body tempera-
ture, but wilt and fold up when the air gets hotter, so as
not to absorb heat. Countercurrent flow of blood through
the capillaries of the Arctic duck’s webbed feet keeps the feet
from freezing and the duck from getting cold. The nasal
and respiratory passages of the camel are lined with hygro-
scopic mucus, which dries out when the animal breathes in
and then recovers moisture from expired air, thus consid-
erably reducing insensible losses of water. To a physician
accustomed to the narrow confines of human biology,
reading about these insights of comparative physiology
that teach us the way bodies work is an experience like that
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of Alice stepping through the looking glass or of a child
reading about the Wizard of Oz.
Schmidt-Nielsen’s life has been complicated as well as in-
teresting. He is frank about his times of self-doubt, depres-
sion, and fierce professional competition and jealousy, and
about his disappointments as well as his loves. These per-
sonal touches, told with disarming frankness, add to the
charm of the memoirs of a scientist who never lost the cu-
riosity of his childhood.
FRANKLIN H. EPSTEIN, M.D.
Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center
Boston, MA 02215
THE TENNIS PARTNER: A DOCTOR’S STORY OF
FRIENDSHIP AND LOSS
By Abraham Verghese. 347 pp. New York, HarperCollins, 1998. $25.
ISBN 0-06-017405-6.
DARWIN’S AUDUBON: SCIENCE AND THE
LIBERAL IMAGINATION
By Gerald Weissmann. Approximately 309 pp. New York, Plenum,
1998. $28.95. ISBN 0-306-45981-7.
THE POWER OF HOPE: A DOCTOR’S PERSPECTIVE
By Howard Spiro. Approximately 289 pp. New Haven, Conn.,
Yale University Press, 1998. $35. ISBN 0-300-07632-0.
T HESE three books, which differ so in style and con-
tent, are persuasive evidence that the tradition of the
physician-author lives on. The beauty of thought and clar-
ity of word they convey merit the attention of any doctor.
Abraham Verghese has already made his literary mark
with My Own County, a widely praised book about his med-
ical and personal experiences when AIDS invaded a small
rural community. Since then, Verghese, a specialist in in-
fectious diseases, has moved to El Paso, Texas, where he is
professor of medicine at Texas Tech University. His new
book, The Tennis Partner, is an autobiographical novel. It
tells the story of Verghese’s encounters with a drug-addicted
physician, David Smith, an Australian tennis player who
quits professional tennis to study medicine at Texas Tech.
Verghese forms a bond with Smith on hospital wards and
tennis courts. There, the games they play, at first hesitant
but ultimately furious, are a metaphor for Smith’s battle
against cocaine addiction and Verghese’s struggle to make
something of Smith. But the bright, capable, deceitful, and
self-deceptive Smith is as unable to win the final game as
he is to find a life free of cocaine. The denouement is not
a surprise, but it nevertheless shocks. Verghese writes lyr-
ically about tennis and with sensitivity about the despair
of addicted physicians. The book begins with a scene in
the Talbott–Marsh Recovery Clinic, a real clinic for addict-
ed physicians. Its head, G. Douglas Talbott, is past presi-
dent of the American Society of Addiction Medicine and
a pioneer in the treatment of addicted physicians. The Tennis
Partner is rooted in the hopelessness and waste of drug
addiction. Verghese uses his literary gift to deal with the
problem in ways not possible in a technical paper.
In contrast to Verghese’s lean prose — as unadorned as
 B OOK S REC EIV ED
a service ace — Gerald Weissmann’s Darwin’s Audubon can
border on the baroque. But the baroque style has many
admirers and merits, and it suits Weissmann nicely. Readers
who can follow the sinuosities of Weissman’s odd connec-
tions and unexpected thoughts will appreciate this quirky
book almost as soon as they begin it. The 24 essays in
Darwin’s Audubon have been previously published, mainly
in Hospital Practice. Collecting them in a single volume is
a convenience and gives readers an idea of the scope of
Weissmann’s interests. Among my favorites are “Puerperal
Priority,” a beautiful account of the discoverers of the cause
of puerperal sepsis; “Foucault and the Bag Lady,” which
decries the displacement of hopelessly schizophrenic pa-
tients from psychiatric hospitals to the sidewalks; “No Ideas
but in Things,” a marvelous essay about William Carlos
Williams; and “Losing a MASH,” Weissmann’s story of his
own experiences as an army doctor. Best of all is “Words-
worth at the Barbican.” I won’t tell you what this is about
— all these short pieces are erudite, amusing, and stimu-
lating: read them.
The Power of Hope is a reworking of Howard Spiro’s Doc-
tors, Patients, and Placebos, published in 1986, and present-
ed now with new ideas and considerations. Strictly speaking,
it is not a literary work but a distillation of the experiences
and thoughts of a physician who has practiced his art and
profession for over 40 years. Yet the originality and ele-
gance of this book justify its inclusion in this review. The
Power of Hope has an important theme and challenges the
reader with controversial ideas. Spiro emphasizes the dif-
ference between the perceptions of the doctor (disease) and
those of the patient (illness). He tells us that the principal
shift in mainstream medicine has been from the ear to the
eye — doctors have lost the art of listening because they
are too busy looking at images on x-ray boards or through
endoscopes. “Physicians,” Spiro writes, “learn how to cure
but little about how to care.” What Spiro is leading us to
is his detailed contemplation of the placebo. What is a pla-
cebo? How does it exert its effects? Is the use of a placebo
legitimate only in the setting of a clinical trial? Is it ethical
for a physician to treat an individual patient with a placebo?
Must the doctor always tell the patient, “You will (may)
receive a placebo”? Who has the authority to judge whether
the use of a placebo is ethical? (“In medical practice ethicist
has come to mean those people who evaluate how doctors
act with patients but who themselves rarely take care of
patients.”)
Spiro moves from the placebo to alternative medicine.
He argues that alternative medicine is a gussied-up placebo
— a placebo with special qualities that distinguish it from
the usual sugar pill. In a close analysis, Spiro deals with nu-
merous “unconventional” approaches to the sick, from
shamanism to Christian Science, always wondering if they
do help the sick, and if so, by what mechanism. His exam-
ination is sympathetic, but he criticizes alternative medi-
cine for refusing to be judged by the standards required of
mainstream medicine. (“The holistic alternative medicine
movement represents the romantic reaction to the sway of
reason in medicine in our postmodern time.”) Yet Spiro also
condemns the proposition that every ailment has a molec-
ular or structural basis, and he blames our medical schools
and teaching hospitals for inculcating doctors with the “sci-
entific fallacy” of medical reductionism (“the more medical
science does for disease, the less physicians do for patients”).
In The Power of Hope Spiro raises many disquieting ques-
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Copyright © 1999 Massachusetts Medical Society. All rights reserved.
tions about medicine and medical practice. He writes mainly
for the lay public, but any doctor could profit from reading
his book. Every page offers common sense and the perspec-
tive of a wise physician who has thought hard about doctors
and patients, not as theoretical entities, but as real people.
ROBERT S. SCHWARTZ, M.D.
©1999, Massachusetts Medical Society.
B OOKS R ECEIVED
The receipt of these books is acknowledged, and this listing must be regarded
as sufficient return for the courtesy of the sender. Books that appear to be
of particular interest will be reviewed as space permits. The Journal does
not publish unsolicited reviews.
ANESTHESIA AND CRITICAL CARE
Emergency Medicine Secrets. Second edition. By Vincent J. Mark-
ovchick and Peter T. Pons. 526 pp. St. Louis, Mosby, 1999. $38.
ISBN 1-56053-253-X.
Emergency Toxicology. Second edition. Edited by Peter Viccellio,
with eight others. 1277 pp. Philadelphia, Lippincott Williams
& Wilkins, 1999. $85. ISBN 0-316-90237-3.
Opioids in Pain Control: Basic and clinical aspects. Edited by Chris-
toph Stein. 359 pp. New York, Cambridge University Press, 1999.
$95. ISBN 0-521-62269-7.
Principles and Practice of Anesthesiology. Second edition. Edited
by David E. Longnecker, John H. Tinker, and G. Edward Morgan,
Jr. 2529 pp. in two volumes, illustrated; with CD-ROM. St. Louis,
Mosby, 1998. $315. ISBN 0-8151-5479-8.
Principles and Practice of Emergency Medicine. Fourth edition. Ed-
ited by George R. Schwartz. 1936 pp., illustrated. Philadelphia,
Lippincott Williams & Wilkins, 1998. $179. ISBN 0-683-07646-9.
Recent Advances in Anaesthesia and Analgesia. (No. 20.) Edited by
A.P. Adams and J.N. Cashman. 252 pp., illustrated. New York,
Churchill Livingstone, 1998. $75. ISBN 0-443-05988-8.
BIOMEDICAL SCIENCE
Basic Human Genetics. Second edition. By Elaine Johansen Mange
and Arthur P. Mange. 530 pp., illustrated; with CD-ROM. Sunder-
land, Mass., Sinauer Associates, 1999. $72.95. ISBN 0-87893-497-9.
Basic Neurochemistry: Molecular, cellular, and medical aspects.
Sixth edition. Edited by George J. Siegel, with Bernard W. Agra-
noff, R. Wayne Albers, Stephen K. Fisher, and Michael D. Uhler.
1183 pp., illustrated. Philadelphia, Lippincott Williams & Wilkins,
1999. $69.50. ISBN 0-397-51820-X.
Fluid, Electrolyte, and Acid–Base Physiology: A problem-based ap-
proach. Third edition. By Mitchell L. Halperin and Marc B. Gold-
stein. 632 pp., illustrated. Philadelphia, W.B. Saunders, 1999. $58.
ISBN 0-7216-7072-5.
The Gut as a Model in Cell and Molecular Biology. (Falk Sympo-
sium. Vol. 94.) Edited by F. Halter, D. Winton, and N.A. Wright. 319
pp. Boston, Kluwer Academic, 1998. $163. ISBN 0-7923-8726-0.
Heart Development. Edited by Richard P. Harvey and Nadia
Rosenthal. 530 pp., illustrated. San Diego, Calif., Academic Press,
1999. $159.95. ISBN 0-12-329860-1.
Human Embryology and Developmental Biology. Second edition.
By Bruce M. Carlson. 494 pp., illustrated. St. Louis, Mosby, 1999.
$39.95. ISBN 0-8151-1458-3.
Leukotrienes: New concepts and targets for therapy. Edited by Ian
Rodger, Jack Botting, and Sven-Erik Dahlén. 143 pp. Boston, Kluwer
Academic, 1998. $85. ISBN 0-7923-8738-4.
Markell and Voge’s Medical Parasitology. Eighth edition. By Edward
K. Markell, David T. John, and Wojciech A. Krotoski. 501 pp., illus-
trated. Philadelphia, W.B. Saunders, 1999. $49.95. ISBN 0-7216-
7634-0.
Molecular Basis of Cardiovascular Disease: A companion to Braun-
wald’s Heart Disease. By Kenneth R. Chen, with Jan L. Breslow,
Jeffrey M. Leiden, Robert D. Rosenberg, and Christine E.
Seidman. 637 pp., illustrated. Philadelphia, W.B. Saunders, 1999.
$135. ISBN 0-7216-6401-6.
Vol ume 340 Numb e r 5 · 399