California Books

When I started reading A Man Without Words, I had no idea my old Psych 101 nugget's days were numbered. I heard about the book as something a fan of Oliver Sacks would enjoy, and I associated it with Oliver Sack's book The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat, about neurological dysfunction, not Sacks's Hearing Voices, about the deaf. I assumed until I started reading that the "man without words" was aphasic -- had brain damage that prevented him from understanding language. Turns out, though, the book's namesake is deaf and poor and had simply, at 27, never been taught any language. No one had ever bothered. Susan Schaller then proceeded to overturn the Psych 101 sacred cow I never knew I had by describing how she taught this young man the beginnings of ASL over the course of a few weeks. Then, so I couldn't think of him as a freak or fraud, Schaller goes on to show that many deaf people receive no language training and can also be taught to sign long after the Psych 101 "language expiration date."

Schaller claims that almost every deaf teacher, and most hearing teachers, of ASL know of adults who have grown up without language. While her book is anecdotal and therefore fundamentally unscientific, she makes a passionate plea for academic study of the acquisition of language by adults, which makes her more plausible than those who would brush science aside where it does not prove their case. A Man Without Words is a powerful request, and a strong basis, for further research in this area.

A Man Without Words is also very well written. Schaller is both artful and precise in her descriptions of sign idioms and grammar, to the point that I, who know little of sign other than what I read here and in Hearing Voices, felt I understood what I needed to and enjoyed learning it. Her narrative case study is better written than many novels, and besides being fascinated by the information Schaller imparts, I also became submerged in the story.

Learning that something I believed for decades may be dead wrong gives me a feeling of loss of equilibrium (I got the feeling a lot when I first started reading about urban legends). No matter how skeptical I try to be, I always seem to be assuming something. A Man Without Words is a convincing argument for skepticism about the "language expiration date," and it raises concerns that the "expiration date" idea may make us give up up too quickly on languageless adults. It is also a fascinating read as a story, which makes the loss of equilibrium easier to take. Now I just hope that since this book was published in the nineties, someone in academia has taken the hint and done some study on linguistic development in adults. I'm off to cruise the Web to find out -- which, I'm sure, is just the kind of reaction Schaller was hoping for.

This book got put aside as I had to read other books for school and work, but I picked it up again and finished it. Schaller basically is providing a qualitative study, a case study, to draw attention to this apparent problem. This method of educational research is used more and more in writing dissertations, and I actually didn't recognize what it was until I took a qualitative research class myself. The writing and book tend at first to repeat itself. I am not sure what Schaller was doing in writing this way. Perhaps the book had to be a certain length or she felt readers might not pay attention to the seriousness of this problem for Ildefonso and other adults without language. This repetition caused the first half of the book to drag a bit.

After I picked the book up again, I finished it in two days. The addition of the search for other adults with no primary language, Schaller's introduction to other adults like Ildefonso, and then her search for Ildefonso really added to the pace of the case study.

This book throws a bit of a wrench in much of the things I have been taught in both neuroscience and education. There are a few things the book illustrates better than any other book I've read on this topic. First, given the amount of adults who were deaf and had no language that Schaller found in Southern California really illustrates this has to be a major problem internationally. If we are finding such a large group in our nation which pushes education and literacy, what about in countries such as China where there are many deaf (due to overuse of gentamycin) and there are many people with no access to education. Second, again, we obviously don't know everything there is to know about the pliability of the brain. Third, I am very concerned about discrimination against this group, and the possibilities that there are many of these people in psychiatric wards or prisons or other institutions, merely because they have no way to assert their rights. This possibility would be criminal.

I'd like to see more books by Schaller on this topic, and hope to learn more about this in the future. For the most part, this is a great book, and it definitely is a great story which needed to be told.
Karen Sadler
Science Education
University of Pittsburgh

If you're looking for something to take to the beach, look no further. Talk about a quick read: I started it between a wedding and its reception on Saturday and finished it Sunday evening, despite having the reception, post-reception drinks, and a brunch the day after that turned into a five-hour affair.

The fifth Munch Mancini novel begins with Munch's old friend Ellen Summers getting out of prison the day after her mother and stepfather are killed in a rather gruesome fashion. Ellen has an explanation of why someone would have been after her mother, but the explanation has too many holes in it to completely make sense. Combine this with Ellen's real father coming back into the picture, a crazy woman stalking Munch, a new romantic interest (on the police force, no less), and you've got yourself a novel.

Quick, witty, and absorbing, No Man Standing is pretty much the perfect beach novel; easy, fun, and with short enough chapters that you know, when you finish one, it's time to expose a different side to the sun. ***

Ellen Summers was Mancini's best gal-pal in the rough old days, and is just released from her latest stint in the California Institution for Women, a penal facility. Summers is being sought by vicious killers who want returned a very large sum of counterfeit Franklins that she found and hid before her most recent imprisonment. The first bodies in a growing pile are those of Ellen's Mom and stepfather. Meanwhile, Munch is being harassed by the jealous ex of a poor choice of lovers, and she doesn't need the heavy baggage that Ellen has brought to her and Asia's doorstep.

By design or not, assigning Ellen a major role in this fifth book of the Munch Mancini series was true inspiration by author Barbara Seranella. Summers is at least a pale reflection of Seranella's protagonist before she became a contributing member of society. For those steady readers of the series, who perhaps thought that Munch was becoming too middle-class, or for those being introduced to Munch for the first time, Ellen is a much-needed reminder of Mancini's former low-life edginess. That aspect, plus the ending plot twist of NO MAN STANDING, extends my interest in the series as a whole, the storylines of which will need to be unpredictable to keep me returning for more. While the last chapter gives a too obvious hint to the evolution of Mancini's love life in the next book, I trust the author will surprise us.

The back flap of NO MAN STANDING reveals that Barbara Seranella ran away at fourteen from the showcase upper middle-class enclave of Pacific Palisades, CA, joined a San Francisco hippie commune, rode with outlaw bikers, and became an auto mechanic. Since I also spent several idyllic childhood years in Pacific Palisades before my uneventful and unrebellious teens, I wish we could sit and compare notes to determine where I went wrong.

So begins this paradigm-bending book, an elegant theory of social evolution, as well as a brilliant prescription for modern peacemakers. Schmookler not only accounts for the origins of the ancient cycle of human violence, he provides a path from domination, competition, and unilateral decision-making to partnership, cooperation, and multilateralism. As Schmookler guides the reader through possible answers to the parable, it becomes clear that, when faced with violence, whether one chooses to fight back, surrender, or run away, each "solution" tends to spread the power dynamics of violence through the system. Even the most peaceful culture, when forced to defend itself, must shift to that degree of militarism deemed necessary for survival.

The liberating message for peacemakers is that violence is neither a hard-wired aspect of human nature nor God the Father's indelible curse on humankind; rather, violence arose as a regrettable solution to human conflicts and has since spread from person to person and culture and culture like a social virus, or meme. By focusing on what Schmookler calls "the problem of power in social evolution," we can chart a new course through personal and political conflicts and find lasting, nonviolent answers to the parable's dilemma. A vital book in the peacemaker's library.

This is tough reading, in part because the publisher's choice of paper and font are not the best. As one who has previously recommended such books as Lionel Tiger's "The Manufacture of Evil: Ethics, Evolution, and the Industrial System", Norman Cousins "The Pathology of Power", and many other books on the pathologies of treating man as a "good", of scientific objectivity as "value neutral" and therefore bad, of secrecy as counter-productive to "precautionary principle" decision-making, I immediately recognized this book as an integrative work, possibly supplanting all those other books by bringing the various arguments together in one place.

This is indeed a brilliant product by a towering intellect, and it has the bibliography and index that one would expect from a world-class endeavor. I recommend it together with Philip Alott's "The Health of Nations: Society and Law beyond the State", Stewart Brand's "Clock of the Long Now", and John Lewis Gaddis "The Landscape of History".

The author's bottom line: not only must we come to grips with how power is managed in every nation and organization, but also we must manage at the *global* level if we are to succeed in optimizing fulfillment at the *individual* level.

Sincerely
Kelvin Otis