I first became
captivated with the
ideas of Booker T.
Washington, W.E.B.
Du Bois, and Ralph
Waldo Ellison my
senior year of
high school. I was
exposed to Up from Slavery and The
Souls of Black Folk while taking a small
honors consortium seminar on the
Progressive Era, and I first read
Invisible Man in my AP English Literature class. At the time, I could not
stop thinking of the connections
among the three texts, though because
I was reading them in separate classes
I could not explore these connections
to the depth I desired. Thus, when I
got to Duke and saw there was a whole
academic writing class devoted to
Ellison’s Invisible Man I jumped at the
chance to register. While taking the
class, I had the great opportunity to
investigate the nuances of Ellison’s
momentous text under the guidance of
my outstanding professor Dr. Lena Hill,
whose insight and direction precipitated and amplified my initial philosophical interest in the novel. As a result,
when we were given pretty free reign
on topics for our final term papers, I
quickly decided to write mine on
Ellison’s engagement with the ideas of
Washington and Du Bois in Invisible
Man, finally producing this paper.
24
Appeasement, Consciousness, and
a New Humanism: Ellison’s Criticism
of Washington and Du Bois
and His Hope for Black Americans
Nick Cuneo
R
alph Waldo Ellison’s novel Invisible Man (1947) is a first-person
account of the feelings, prejudices, and contradictions concomitant to
being black in America. This work of fiction is illuminated by comparison to two landmark nonfiction works in African American history written nearly 50 years earlier, Booker T. Washington’s Up from
Slavery (1901) and W.E.B. Du Bois’s The Souls of Black Folk (1903). Despite ostensible similarities among the books, each portrays a very different outlook on the
future of black Americans. While Washington advocated for blacks to embrace a
Protestant work ethic, a tolerance of segregation, and a submissive attitude in hopes
of impressing whites into granting them proper recognition, Du Bois explored the
concept of double-consciousness — the “sense of always looking at one’s self
through the eyes of others,” which he claimed black Americans needed to reconcile — and called for blacks to militantly demand their political and civil rights (Du
Bois 25). Though Ellison’s narrator, Invisible Man, exhibits aspects of each ideology
throughout his development, he ultimately veers away from both as he submerges
into his hole beneath Harlem, alone and invisible. In this essay, I will analyze the
protagonist’s journey from Founder-worshipping naïf to defeated and cerebral
author and show how it reflects a direct criticism of both Washingtonian appeasement and, more subtly, the dangers of the militancy, estrangement, and destruction
which can result from failing to resolve the conflict of Du Bois’s two irreconcilable
selves. I will conclude that Ellison not only criticizes but in fact rejects both ideologies and offers instead, through the visceral and deeply human voice of the Narrator,
his own philosophical position: that blacks might embrace their individuality and
common humanity rather than fixate on issues of race and nationality.
Invisible Man starts his journey as a successful and optimistic high school graduate
whose Washingtonian speech arguing that “humility was ... the very essence of
progress” earns him the opportunity to speak at a public ceremony in town (Invisible
Man 5, hereafter IM). The Narrator implicitly criticizes his young self’s alignment
with Washington at the very start of the novel, however, when, after establishing a
link between his invisibility and maturity, he overtly states, “in those pre-invisible
days I visualized myself as a potential Booker T. Washington” (18). Yet it is the subsequent acts of indignity and oppression to which the protagonist is exposed that shed
the greatest light on the failure of Washington’s policy of passive obedience. The first
such humiliation occurs when he is brought to the ballroom of a fancy hotel under the
pretense of giving his graduation speech to the town’s most powerful white men, only
to discover there would be a battle royal-style boxing match in which he would be
forced to participate. Throughout the physical and psychological abuse of the battle
royal, the Narrator keeps telling himself that if he impresses the white men he will be
rewarded. However, by allowing himself to be blindfolded and manipulated by the
whites, he is only allowing them to further degrade him to a point at which even he
admits, “I had no dignity” (22). Though it is clear
that the more the young black men acquiesced to the
expectations of the whites, the “more threatening the
[white] men became,” Invisible Man still concerns
himself with pleasing the whites in search of an elusive reward, repeatedly asking himself, “Would they
recognize my ability? What would they give me?”
(24). At first the protagonist’s Washingtonian strategy seemingly pays off, as he ends up with both “gold
coins” and a scholarship to the black state college.
However, the value of these rewards is soon called
into question by the protagonist’s realization that the
gold pieces are really worthless brass tokens and
through his subsequent dream in which he opens the
same envelope that contained his scholarship and
instead finds the sinister message, “Keep This NiggerBoy Running” (33).
Ellison further links the physical act of running to
Washingtonian appeasement through his direct criticism of Washington, his white supporters, and his
Tuskegee Institute. Ellison’s modeling of the Narrator’s school after Tuskegee is evident from the state
in which it is located (Alabama) to its “founder” and
his life story to its mission to provide vocational
training to blacks. However, Ellison’s criticism of the
physical school is more metaphorical, as the Narrator
describes the campus as “white-washed,” with buildings “bleached white” and the main statue covered in
“white chalk” (46). From the excessively white edi-
fices to the negro spirituals performed for the sole
enjoyment of the visiting white donors, it is clear that
this is not a school at which blacks are educated for
their own sake but rather are looked after by whites
with ulterior motives. This paternalism is symbolized
by the ubiquitous moon —“a white man’s bloodshot
eye” —which illuminates the college and its students
like a police officer’s probing flashlight (110). By
metaphorically and symbolically linking the Institute
to white paternalism, Ellison implicitly echoes Du
Bois’ and others’ criticism of Tuskegee and its vocational curriculum as being more advantageous to the
whites who would benefit from the labor of the technically trained blacks it graduated than to the blacks
themselves, who would be kept running for the
whites’ benefit.
Ellison more directly criticizes Washington
through Invisible Man’s interaction with Mr. Norton,
a white trustee who helped found the Institute.
Invisible Man’s mindset during his time with the
Boston liberal stridently echoes Washington’s
“Atlanta Exposition,” in which he promised whites
that “you and your families will be surrounded by
the most patient, faithful, law-abiding, and unresentful people ... [who] shall stand by you with a devotion
that no foreigner can approach, ready to lay down
[their] lives, if need be, in defense of yours”
(Washington 107). While chauffeuring Norton,
Invisible Man displays a level of obsequiousness, loy-
By metaphorically and
symbolically linking the
Institute to white paternalism,
Ellison implicitly echoes
Du Bois’ and others’ criticism of
Tuskegee and its vocational
curriculum as being more
advantageous to the whites
who would benefit from the
labor of the technically
trained blacks it graduated
than to the blacks themselves,
who would be kept running
for the whites’ benefit.
25
26
alty, and opportunism clearly meant to evoke ness. In other words, Invisible Man must face the
Washington’s notion of ideal behavior: “I knew... sense of always being observed and judged based on
that it was advantageous to flatter rich white folks. the conflict between his two identities, that of being
Perhaps he’d give me a large tip, or a suit, or a schol- black and of being an American:
The Negro is ... born with a veil, and gifted with a
arship next year” (IM 38). Instead of deferring to his
second sight in this American world, — a world
better judgment in various instances, Invisible Man
which yields him no true self-consciousness, but
obediently acquiesces to Mr. Norton’s demands in
only lets him see himself through the revelation
order to show his devotion, patience, and even willof the other world. It is a particular sensation,
ingness to risk his own life, in hopes of a pecuniary
this double-consciousness ... One ever feels his
reward. This strategy, however, fails miserably, as
two-ness, — an American, a Negro; two souls,
things escalate out of control. Norton ends up abantwo thoughts, two unreconciled strivings, two
doning him and Invisible Man gets expelled from the
warring ideals in one dark body, whose dogged
school and sent “running” to Harlem. By having
strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder.
Invisible Man follow all the tenets Washington laid
(Du Bois 3)
out for blacks and then showing the complete catastrophe that can directly result from it, Ellison goes If the move to Harlem is Invisible Man’s attempt to
beyond illustrating that Washington’s prescription become free, it also ushers him into a perhaps more
complex set of race relations, eswould not always be effective to
By exposing
pecially within himself. For there,
demonstrate that the effort to follow
Invisible Man’s sense of fragmentathose instructions is itself psychologithe protagonist’s
tion, his seeing himself from different
cally injurious.
delusional optimism
points of view at the same time, leads
Even after both the battle royal
as unfounded and
to his inability to be whole.
and the incident with Mr. Norton,
Present throughout black literaInvisible Man maintains his selfactually dysfunctional,
ture from Zora Neale Hurston’s
defeating Washingtonian mindset
Ellison warns
Their Eyes Were Watching God
when he gets to New York, where he
(1937) to Richard Wright’s Black
believes if he tries hard enough and
ambitious black
Boy (1945), the Du Boisian conflict
impresses important people he will
Americans of the
of selves acts as a veil which prevents
be allowed back in the Institute. He
even has visions of becoming a suc- corrosive, if seductive, a character from being truly self-confident, manifesting itself in an acute
cessor to Dr. Bledsoe, the megalomaeffort to placate
awareness of one’s status or outward
niacal black leader of the Institute
appearance. Thus it comes as no surwhose obsession with power leads
those who would
prise that Invisible Man displays an
him to claim he is in control of the
undermine them.
increased cognizance of his appearwhite trustees. By exposing the protagonist’s delusional optimism as unfounded and ance and any indication of his black southern roots
actually dysfunctional, Ellison warns ambitious black once he gets to New York. This heightened selfAmericans of the corrosive, if seductive, effort to awareness is evident from the very beginning, when,
placate those who would undermine them. Final- armed with Bledsoe’s letters to prominent trustees,
ly, Ellison goes so far as to implicitly compare Invisible Man arrives at the Men’s House eager to
Washingtonian appeasement to slavery or imprison- find “someone to show the letters to, someone who
ment through the words of Mr. Emerson Jr., the dis- could give me a proper reflection of my imporillusioned son of the powerful white business-owner tance.” When he goes to the mirror and gives himto whom Invisible Man, armed with a confidential self an “admiring smile” as he spreads the letters out
letter from Dr. Bledsoe, appeals for a job. Emerson on the dresser, Invisible Man is almost literally
Jr. shows Invisible Man how ironic and futile his seeing himself through a white man’s — a real
Washingtonian pursuit of success has been by American’s? — eyes (IM 163).
revealing Bledsoe’s malicious nature, after which he
As Invisible Man gets further enveloped in othdeclares, “You have been freed” (192).
ers’ perceptions of him, he becomes hyperconscious
At this point in the novel, Invisible Man has yet of his superficial appearance, as seen both in the
to overcome his sense of Washingtonian obedience, final text and (particularly well) in earlier drafts of
though he may understand it is not a foolproof pre- Invisible Man. Upon coming to New York, Invisible
scription for success for an intelligent black man. Man admits, “I followed the fashion magazines reliWhen he gets to Harlem, however, he also has to giously, stood for hours watching men come and go
confront a dilemma W.E.B. Du Bois famously and through the portals of Brooks Brothers and finally
extensively explored in The Souls of Black Folk, almost broke myself buying the correct suits ...”
namely the phenomenon of black double-conscious- (“Ralph Ellison Papers,” Box 142). This desire to
conform is also apparent in the protagonist’s reactions when people mention his southern background.
He feels indignant, for instance, when his waiter
offers him the country special of pork chops and grits
on the way to his last interview (IM 178). Furthermore, Ellison irrefutably echoes Invisible Man’s
Du Boisian double-consciousness in the drafts while
he is attempting to contact the powerful trustees: “I
discovered myself staring at the paneled wall behind
which the young woman had disappeared sweeping
its rich and beautifully joined woods for peepholes.
For I had the sense of being observed” (my emphasis,
“Ralph Ellison Papers,” Box 145).
Here we see the intersection of Du Bois and
Washington, for when following Washington’s edict
from the Atlanta Exposition to “cast down your
bucket where you are” and cater to whites, ambitious black Americans cannot help but feel a conflict
between the obsequiousness Washington demanded toward whites and their own black identity
(Washington 106). This connection is also explicitly
made by Ellison early in the novel during his
description of the black college when he references
the notoriously ambiguous statue — modeled after a
statue of Washington at Tuskegee — of the Founder
lifting a “veil” off of a newly freed slave. However,
at that point in the Narrator’s journey, neither he
nor the reader knows what to make of it, as the
Narrator remembers being “puzzled” about “whether the veil [was] really being lifted, or lowered more
firmly in place” while he was at the Institute (IM
36). It is only after Invisible Man’s experiences
in New York that it becomes clear that with
Washingtonian appeasement comes the lowering of
the Du Boisian veil of double-consciousness, not
emancipation from it.
In fact, it is not until Invisible Man is “reborn”
after being electronically lobotomized and given a
new identity in the factory hospital of Liberty Paints
that he finally breaks away from the confining obedience of Washington and starts exhibiting the militancy Du Bois called for in blacks. And, consequently, it is not until after his hospitalization that the
protagonist actually confronts Du Bois’s perpetual
conflict and attempts to reconcile his black self with
his American one. A catalyst to this reconciliation is
to be found in the character of Mary, a strong southern black woman who is motherly and proud of her
heritage. That she embraces black culture is a welcome relief to Invisible Man, who has denied his
heritage for his whole life. At Mary’s place, Invisible
Man finally reconnects with his black identity as
exhibited by such acts as his code-switching from
common English to the black vernacular during his
speech at the eviction: “They ain’t got nothing, they
caint get nothing, they never had nothing” (279). As
a result of this newfound comfort with black cul-
ture, Invisible Man achieves the confidence necessary for him to finally defend and assert himself,
starting with his misguided dumping of a spittoon
on a man who resembles Bledsoe (257). Invisible
Man also stops concerning himself with how other
people view him — in other words, he actually frees
himself of Du Boisian double-consciousness — as he
shows by unabashedly consuming four sweet yams
out in the busy streets of New York City: “I no
longer felt ashamed of the things I had always
loved . . . . What and how much had I lost by trying
to do only what was expected of me instead of what
I myself had wished to do?” (266). While staying at
Mary’s, Invisible Man is no longer of the Washingtonian mindset and is finally comfortable being himself and making his own decisions, suggesting that
Ellison offers hope for resolution only in a shameless
acceptance of one’s roots and abandonment of
Washington’s duplicitous roadmap for blacks’ success as he set forth in Atlanta. Thus, as Jesse Wolfe
has suggested, Ellison’s critique of Du Boisian double-consciousness lies not in a direct opposition to
the concept but rather in an implicit difference;
whereas Du Bois describes double-consciousness as
irreconcilable, Ellison offers a glimpse at resolution
(Wolfe 624).
However, it is not long after Invisible Man makes
his marked leap in embracing his roots and reconciling his persistent duality that he gets involved with a
communist-like organization whose sole purpose is to
suppress individuality and any acknowledgement of
culture or difference. Just as it seems that Invisible
Man rejected the practice of Washingtonian appeasement, he is asked to dive back into the role. Brother
Jack, one of the principal white members of the
Brotherhood trying to recruit Invisible Man, literally
asks him, “How would you like to be the new Booker
T. Washington?” (IM 305). Furthermore, as literary
critic Houston Baker suggests, Ellison explicitly draws
a connection between the paternalistic white trustees
of the Institute and the members of the Brotherhood
when another white member of the movement comes
up to Invisible Man and asks him to sing a spiritual
“or one of those real good ole Negro work songs”
(qtd. in Baker 2). Though his conscience advises him
against joining the organization — “I looked at them,
fighting a sense of unreality... this was real and now
was the time for me to decide or to say I thought they
were crazy and go back to Mary’s” (308) — the protagonist finds himself compelled to prove amenable to
Brother Jack’s demand. However, this time he unsuccessfully attempts to follow his grandfather’s deathbed advice on dealing with whites: “live with your
head in the lion’s mouth ... overcome ’em with yeses,
undermine ’em with grins, agree ’em to death and
destruction, let ’em swoller you till they vomit or bust
wide open” (16). Conflicted, Invisible Man both
27
28
accepts and denies his role as the new Booker
T.: “To hell with this Booker T. Washington
business. I would ... be no one but myself ...
They may think I was acting like Booker T.
Washington; let them. But what I thought of
myself I would keep to myself” (311).
Invisible Man believes he has made
progress. In abandoning all hopes of returning to the Institute, he believes he has left
behind his enslavement to Washington’s accomodationism. Likewise, in enjoying himself at
Mary’s, he believes he has also reconciled the
Du Boisian double-consciousness. Unfortunately, Invisible Man has underestimated
the power of his predecessors’ ideas. Because
he has no clear, distinct vision from them, he
cannot simply “act like Booker T.” Under this
pretense, he unknowingly slides right back
into the role and mindset prescribed by
Washington and quickly becomes the passive
pawn he swore he would not be.
Perhaps Ellison’s most painful and forceful
critique of both Washington’s obedient demeanor toward whites and, more pointedly,
Du Bois’s demand for militant protest is manifested through his inclusion and analysis of
the Harlem riot. While looking upon the
scene of chaos and destruction, Invisible Man
at first believes the blacks engaging in the
escalating “race riot” to be consciously risking their lives in hopes of effecting change to
help defeat the white power structure.
However, he soon realizes that they are actually reinforcing the white power structure by
contributing to the devastation of their homes
and workplaces, an act that precipitates their
own disempowerment. As he reflects on the
events following the death of his former
Brotherhood colleague and friend, Tod Clifton,
he comes to the haunting realization that the
slaughter occurring before him “was not suicide, but murder” (553), “planned” by malicious and propaganda-crazed members of the
Brotherhood who were extremely cognizant
of what they were doing. Realizing he has
been a blind “tool” for the Brotherhood this
entire time — no freer than one of Clifton’s
Sambo dolls — Invisible Man is dumbfounded
at his role in the bloodshed. Through Invisible
Man’s realizations and actions leading up to
and during the riot scene, Ellison poignantly
illustrates how violently imprudent and blind
militancy can be.
Thus, while Ellison doesn’t specifically
reject the organized and guided use of aggressive force that Du Bois suggested in agitating
for black rights, he does expose the dangers of
spontaneous or imprudent violence — namely
the possibility that it can destroy black people
rather than uplift them. Just as Invisible
Man’s impulsive assertiveness resulted in his
abusing a guiltless black reverend at the
Men’s Club rather than Dr. Bledsoe, the riot
towards the end of the novel results in violence, destruction, fragmentation, and homelessness for many innocent Harlemites. Because they fall victim to the misguided
militancy of Ras the Destroyer, the leader of a
militant black nationalist movement opposing
the Brotherhood, the people of Harlem inadvertently participate in a plan which benefits
the white-controlled Brotherhood, as Invisible
man finally realizes: “Could this be the answer, could this be what the committee had
planned, the answer to why they’d surrendered our influence to Ras? ... I could see it
now, see it clearly and in growing magnitude ...The committee had planned it” (553).
However, Ellison does not just blindly criticize Washington and Du Bois without offering
his own hope for blacks. Though the direction
Ellison proposes for black Americans is not
explicitly spelled out, it is clear in those
moments and speeches in which Invisible Man
relinquishes control to his subconscious emotions and allows himself to truly acknowledge
his own thoughts. The first cogent example of
this occurs during the protagonist’s first official speech for the Brotherhood, prior to his
four-month-long brainwashing. After being
scolded by Brother Jack for speaking about his
individual background, Invisible Man proclaims that “silence is consent,” overtly condemning Washington. Then, in a revelatory
moment, he falls into a “husky whisper”: “I
feel suddenly that I have become more
human .... Not that I have become a man, for I
was born a man. But that I am more human. I
feel strong, I feel able to get things done! I feel
that I can see sharp and clear and far down the
dim corridor of history and in it I can hear the
footsteps of fraternity” (346). Thus, by
emphasizing the clarity and power associated
with thinking as a human being rather than a
black man or an American, Ellison calls for
black Americans to think likewise and thus
empower themselves. And, though Invisible
Man is lambasted by many of the Brothers for
the content of his speech, he admits, “I meant
everything that I had said to the audience, even
though I hadn’t known that I was going to say
those things .... I had uttered words that had
possessed me” (353-4). In fact, it is this very
quality of a “visceral voice” that makes it so
Through Invisible Man’s
realizations and actions
leading up to and during
the riot scene, Ellison
poignantly illustrates how
violently imprudent and
blind militancy can be.
Thus, by emphasizing
the clarity and power
associated with thinking
as a human being rather
than a black man or an
American, Ellison calls
for black Americans to
think likewise and thus
empower themselves.
influential and genuine. At one point in Ellison’s
drafts, when Mr. Treadwell, a guest at Mary’s boarding house who was omitted in the final edition, is
telling a story, he recalls his recently deceased friend
Leroy’s definition of what is considered human: “the
capacity for experiencing raw emotions” (“Ralph
Ellison Papers,” Box 142). Though Ellison left this
out of his final version, it seems his definition was
very much in line with Leroy’s. Thus by expressing
Invisible Man’s most radical, interesting, and progressive views when he is possessed by his human
emotions, rather than regurgitating national, political, or racial rhetoric, Ellison shows the importance
of transcending race, nationality, and any other artificial grouping in favor of a common humanity.
In fact, this common humanity is a pervasive
theme through Ellison’s criticism of American literature in his collection of essays, Shadow and Act, as
well. Arguing that American authors such as
Hemingway have repeatedly engaged in “perhaps
the most insidious and least understood form of segregation” by including “counterfeit” black characters in their novels who simply function as “racial
clichés” denied the complexity of an individual,
Ellison demands that Americans finally either take
on issues of race in their entirety or quit masking
and simplifying blacks (Shadow 35). The only way
one can combat stereotypes and misunderstandings,
Ellison argues, is through recognition of a common
humanity and the interconnected nature of all
Americans. Though specifically addressing writers,
Ellison’s warning that those “who stereotype or
ignore the Negro and other minorities in the final
analysis stereotype and distort their own humanity”
is directly applicable to all people (44).
Ellison reiterates this message and equates individuality to humanity in Invisible Man’s other great
and, importantly, extemporaneous speech at Tod
Clifton’s funeral. Invisible Man begins by establishing Clifton’s individuality: “His name was Clifton
and he was tall and some folks thought him handsome .... His name was Clifton and his face was
black and his hair was thick with tight-rolled
curls — or call them naps or kinks” (IM 455). He
then goes on to tie Clifton to all humans and establish the link between individual being and all human
beings: “Here are the facts. He was standing and he
fell. He fell and he kneeled. He kneeled and he bled.
He bled and he died. He fell in a heap like any man
and his blood spilled out like any blood, wet as any
blood .... That’s all” (456). In this way Ellison finally
shows how individual differences —such as the color
of one’s skin or one’s gender — should not be
ignored in order to embrace humanity but rather
acknowledged and honored.
Thus Ellison offers his own hope for black
Americans, one that is very distinct from both
Washington and Du Bois. Through the actions of
Invisible Man, Ellison not only presents the lethal
impact of Washingtonian appeasement and cautions
against blind militancy but also directly connects the
self-defeating Du Boisian conflict of selves to the
pursuit of Washingtonian success, as both are based
on the idea that black Americans should define
themselves by their race. Finally, through exposing
his unique views in the emotional and visceral words
articulated in Invisible Man’s various speeches,
Ellison ultimately creates his own version of
Washington’s Atlanta Exposition, one which neglects neither the black experience nor the American
one but rather realizes the interconnectedness of the
two. According to critic Kenneth Warren,
Ellison always sought to place individual experience within a larger group context, whether
‘Negro,’ ‘American,’ or some combination of the
two. In fact, Ellison’s larger point was that, had we
the courage to admit it, the inescapable combination of the two was not only the truth of our individual experiences but also the inescapable implication of America’s founding documents. (172)
In demanding that this combination be accepted
and appreciated, Ellison puts forth an alternative
possibility for black Americans to live productive
lives, an alternative that offers hope and optimism
for blacks by embracing that which makes them
both individual and human. He thus connects black
Americans with everyone else in a common humanity which can transcend the tensions, irreconcilable
doubts, and prejudices of racism and nationalism
and begin to resolve the conflicts perpetually plaguing America. ª
Works Cited
Baker, Houston A. “Meditation on Tuskegee: Black
Studies Stories and Their Imbrication.” The Journal of
Blacks in Higher Education (1995): 51-60.
Du Bois, W.E.B. The Souls of Black Folk. New York:
Modern Library, 2003.
Ellison, Ralph W. Invisible Man. 2nd ed. New York:
Vintage International, 1995.
Ellison, Ralph W. “Ralph Ellison Papers.” 1945.
Ellison, Ralph W. Shadow and Act. New York: Vintage
International, 1953.
Warren, Kenneth W. “Ralph Ellison and the Problem of
Cultural Authority.” boundary 2 30 (2003): 157-174.
Washington, Booker T. Up from Slavery. Toronto,
Canada: Dover Publications, Inc., 1995.
Wolfe, Jesse. “‘Ambivalent Man’: Ellison’s Rejection of
Communism.” African American Review 34 (2000):
621-637.
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