Clone: The Road to Dolly and the Path Ahead

Overview

The birth of Dolly — the world's first clone — placed in our hands the secret of creation. Few discoveries have so altered our notion of what it means to be human, or presented such a Gordian knot of ethical, spiritual, and scientific questions. Noted science journalist Gina Kolata broke the news nationally in The New York Times and was the first reporter to speak with Dr. Ian Wilmut, the embryologist who cloned Dolly. Now Kolata reveals the story behind Dolly, interweaving the social and cultural tales of ...

See more details below
Available through our Marketplace sellers.
Other sellers (Hardcover)
  • All (72) from $1.99   
  • New (7) from $8.50   
  • Used (65) from $1.99   
Close
Sort by
Page 1 of 1
Showing All
Note: Marketplace items are not eligible for any BN.com coupons and promotions
$8.50
Seller since 2005

Feedback rating:

(1632)

Condition:

New — never opened or used in original packaging.

Like New — packaging may have been opened. A "Like New" item is suitable to give as a gift.

Very Good — may have minor signs of wear on packaging but item works perfectly and has no damage.

Good — item is in good condition but packaging may have signs of shelf wear/aging or torn packaging. All specific defects should be noted in the Comments section associated with each item.

Acceptable — item is in working order but may show signs of wear such as scratches or torn packaging. All specific defects should be noted in the Comments section associated with each item.

Used — An item that has been opened and may show signs of wear. All specific defects should be noted in the Comments section associated with each item.

Refurbished — A used item that has been renewed or updated and verified to be in proper working condition. Not necessarily completed by the original manufacturer.

New
New

Ships from: Fort Worth, TX

Usually ships in 1-2 business days

  • Canadian
  • International
  • Standard, 48 States
  • Standard (AK, HI)
  • Express, 48 States
  • Express (AK, HI)
$12.75
Seller since 2011

Feedback rating:

(22)

Condition: New
New York, NY 1997 Hard cover First Printing, based on Printers key, stated first edition. New in new dust jacket. First edition. Sewn binding. Cloth over boards. 276 p. ... Audience: General/trade. "The first full account of the most amazing scientific event of our day--the birth of Dolly the sheep, the world's first clone--by the award-winning "New York Times" journalist who broke the story nationally. Read more Show Less

Ships from: Lynchburg, VA

Usually ships in 1-2 business days

  • Canadian
  • International
  • Standard, 48 States
  • Standard (AK, HI)
  • Express, 48 States
  • Express (AK, HI)
$17.99
Seller since 2005

Feedback rating:

(24)

Condition: New
N.Y. 1998 Hard Cover New/New 8vo-over 7?"-9?" tall 0688156924 Seller highly rated.

Ships from: Philadelphia, PA

Usually ships in 1-2 business days

  • Canadian
  • International
  • Standard, 48 States
  • Standard (AK, HI)
  • Express, 48 States
  • Express (AK, HI)
$17.99
Seller since 2005

Feedback rating:

(24)

Condition: New
N.Y. 1998 Hard Cover New/New 8vo-over 7?"-9?" tall 0688156924 Seller highly rated.

Ships from: Philadelphia, PA

Usually ships in 1-2 business days

  • Canadian
  • International
  • Standard, 48 States
  • Standard (AK, HI)
  • Express, 48 States
  • Express (AK, HI)
$45.00
Seller since 2015

Feedback rating:

(229)

Condition: New
Brand new.

Ships from: acton, MA

Usually ships in 1-2 business days

  • Standard, 48 States
  • Standard (AK, HI)
$45.00
Seller since 2015

Feedback rating:

(229)

Condition: New
Brand new.

Ships from: acton, MA

Usually ships in 1-2 business days

  • Standard, 48 States
  • Standard (AK, HI)
$86.18
Seller since 2008

Feedback rating:

(210)

Condition: New

Ships from: Chicago, IL

Usually ships in 1-2 business days

  • Standard, 48 States
  • Standard (AK, HI)
Page 1 of 1
Showing All
Close
Sort by
Sending request ...

Overview

The birth of Dolly — the world's first clone — placed in our hands the secret of creation. Few discoveries have so altered our notion of what it means to be human, or presented such a Gordian knot of ethical, spiritual, and scientific questions. Noted science journalist Gina Kolata broke the news nationally in The New York Times and was the first reporter to speak with Dr. Ian Wilmut, the embryologist who cloned Dolly. Now Kolata reveals the story behind Dolly, interweaving the social and cultural tales of our fear and fascination with cloning, reaching back nearly a century, with the riveting scientific accountof how a clone came to be and the mind-boggling questions Dolly presents for our future.

Clone is a compelling blend of scientific suspense, dreams dashed, and frauds exposed, with provocative philosophical questions and an astute assessment of why Dolly's birth was only possible now. Like The Making of the Atomic Bomb, Lucy, and Chaos, this book gives us a window on history in the making, and an understanding of its profound effect on our lives.

"The New York Times writer who broke the story of Dolly the lamb, dives further into the behind-the-scene stories that led up to the development of the first animal clone... discusses the effect cloning will have on the future."

Read More Show Less

Editorial Reviews

Times (London)
Superb but unsettling. . .fascinating. . .Clone raises a huge number of pressing questions.
Library Journal
In this readable history of cloning, New York Times science writer Kolata focuses on the controversial aspects of the issue. An indispensable work for high school, public, and college libraries. LJ 11/15/97 Copyright 1999 Cahners Business Information.
Booknews
Kolata, who broke the news of the cloning of the sheep Dolly in The New York Times, reveals the story behind Dolly, reaching back to the earliest attempts to clone, uncovering events that led to Dolly's birth, and exploring questions that Dolly represents for the future. Using a narrative style, she interweaves the social and cultural tale of our fear and fascination with cloning and the scientific odyssey of how cloning came to be. For general readers. Annotation c. by Book News, Inc., Portland, Or.
Steve Jones
Kolata tells the tale well, with plenty of history....Dolly is an important figure in genetic history....Clone is more about science than its implications, and gains from that fact. -- The New York Review of Books
The Times (London)
Superb but unsettling. . .fascinating. . .Clone raises a huge number of pressing questions.
Read More Show Less

Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780688156923
  • Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
  • Publication date: 1/1/1998
  • Edition number: 1
  • Pages: 276
  • Product dimensions: 6.41 (w) x 9.55 (h) x 1.00 (d)

Meet the Author

Gina Kolata is an award-winning senior writer for the New York Times. The winner of numerous writing awards, she has authored several books, including the bestselling Flu: The Story of the Great Influenza Pandemic of 1918 and the Search for the Virus that Caused It. Her latest book is Rethinking Thin: The New Science of Weight Loss—and the Myths and Realities of Dieting.

Read More Show Less

Read an Excerpt

Many people wonder if this is a miracle for which we can
thank God, or an ominous new way to play God ourselves.
— NANCY DUFF
Princeton Theological Seminary

On a soft summer night, July 5, 1996, at 5:00 P.M., the most famous lamb in history entered the world, head and forelegs first. She was born in a shed, just down the road from the Roslin Institute in Roslin, Scotland, where she was created. And yet her creator, Ian Wilmut, a quiet, balding fifty-two-year-old embryologist, does not remember where he was when he heard that the lamb, named Dolly, was born. He does not even recall getting a telephone call from John Bracken, a scientist who had monitored the pregnancy of the sheep that gave birth to Dolly, saying that Dolly was alive and healthy and weighed 6.6 kilograms, or 14.5 pounds.

It was a moment of remarkable insouciance. No one broke open champagne. No one took pictures. Only a few staff members from the institute and a local veterinarian who attended the birth were present. Yet Dolly, a fluffy creature with grayish-white fleece and a snow-white face, who looked for all the world like hundreds of other lambs that dot the rolling hills of Scotland, was soon to change the world.

When the time comes to write the history of our age, this quiet birth, the creation of this little lamb, will stand out. The events that change history are few and unpredictable. In the twentieth century, there was the discovery of quantum theory, the revolutionary finding by physicists that the normal rules of the visible world do not apply in the realm of the atom. There was Einstein's theory of general relativity, saying that space and time can be warped. There was thesplitting of the atom, with its promise of good and evil. There was the often-overlooked theorem of mathematician Kurt Godel, which said that there are truths that are unknowable, theorems that can be neither proved nor disproved. There was the development of computers that transformed Western society.

In biology and medicine, there was the discovery of penicillin in the 1940s, and there was James Watson and Francis Crick's announcement, in 1953, that they had found the structure of DNA, the genetic blueprint. There was the conquest of smallpox that wiped the ancient scourge from the face of the earth, and the discovery of a vaccine that could prevent the tragedy of polio. In the 1980s, there was the onslaught of AIDS, which taught us that plagues can afflict us still.

In politics, there were the world wars, the rise and fall of communism, and the Great Depression. There is the economic rise of Asia in the latter part of the century, and the ever-shifting balance of the world's powers.

But events that alter our very notion of what it means to be human are few and scattered over the centuries. The birth of Dolly is one of them. "Analogies to Copernicus, to Darwin, to Freud, are appropriate," said Alan Weisbard, a professor of law and medical ethics at the University of Wisconsin. The world is a different place now that she is born.

Dolly is a clone. She was created not out of the union of a sperm and an egg but out of the genetic material from an udder cell of a six-year-old sheep. Wilmut fused the udder cell with an egg from another sheep, after first removing all genetic material from the egg. The udder cell's genes took up residence in the egg and directed it to grow and develop. The result was Dolly, the identical twin of the original sheep that provided the udder cells, but an identical twin born six years later.

Copyright ©1998 by Gina Kolata.

Read More Show Less

Table of Contents

1: A Clone Is Born 1
2: Breaking The News 22
3: Natural Philosophies 42
4: Imagining Clones 70
5: The Sullying Of Science 93
6: Three Cloned Mice 120
7: Breaking The Laws Of Nature 157
8: The Road To Dolly 185
9: Taken By Surprise 209
10: The Path Ahead 228
Notes 249
Index 261
Read More Show Less

First Chapter

CHAPTER ONE

A CLONE IS BORN
Many people wonder if this is a miracle for which we can
thank God, or an ominous new way to play God ourselves.
--NANCY DUFF
Princeton Theological Seminary

On a soft summer night, July 5, 1996, at 5:00 P.M., the most famous lamb in history entered the world, head and forelegs first. She was born in a shed, just down the road from the Roslin Institute in Roslin, Scotland, where she was created. And yet her creator, Ian Wilmut, a quiet, balding fifty-two-year-old embryologist, does not remember where he was when he heard that the lamb, named Dolly, was born. He does not even recall getting a telephone call from John Bracken, a scientist who had monitored the pregnancy of the sheep that gave birth to Dolly, saying that Dolly was alive and healthy and weighed 6.6 kilograms, or 14.5 pounds.

It was a moment of remarkable insouciance. No one broke open champagne. No one took pictures. Only a few staff members from the institute and a local veterinarian who attended the birth were present. Yet Dolly, a fluffy creature with grayish-white fleece and a snow-white face, who looked for all the world like hundreds of other lambs that dot the rolling hills of Scotland, was soon to change the world.

When the time comes to write the history of our age, this quiet birth, the creation of this little lamb, will stand out. The events that change history are few and unpredictable. In the twentieth century, there was the discovery of quantum theory, the revolutionary finding by physicists that the normal rules of the visible world do not apply in the realm of the atom. There was Einstein's theory of general relativity, saying that space and time can be warped. There was the splitting of the atom, with its promise of good and evil. There was the often-overlooked theorem of mathematician Kurt Godel, which said that there are truths that are unknowable, theorems that can be neither proved nor disproved. There was the development of computers that transformed Western society.

In biology and medicine, there was the discovery of penicillin in the 1940s, and there was James Watson and Francis Crick's announcement, in 1953, that they had found the structure of DNA, the genetic blueprint. There was the conquest of smallpox that wiped the ancient scourge from the face of the earth, and the discovery of a vaccine that could prevent the tragedy of polio. In the 1980s, there was the onslaught of AIDS, which taught us that plagues can afflict us still.

In politics, there were the world wars, the rise and fall of communism, and the Great Depression. There is the economic rise of Asia in the latter part of the century, and the ever-shifting balance of the world's powers.

But events that alter our very notion of what it means to be human are few and scattered over the centuries. The birth of Dolly is one of them. "Analogies to Copernicus, to Darwin, to Freud, are appropriate," said Alan Weisbard, a professor of law and medical ethics at the University of Wisconsin. The world is a different place now that she is born.

Dolly is a clone. She was created not out of the union of a sperm and an egg but out of the genetic material from an udder cell of a six-year-old sheep. Wilmut fused the udder cell with an egg from another sheep, after first removing all genetic material from the egg. The udder cell's genes took up residence in the egg and directed it to grow and develop. The result was Dolly, the identical twin of the original sheep that provided the udder cells, but an identical twin born six years later. In a moment of frivolity, as a wry joke, Wilmut named her Dolly after Dolly Parton, who also was known, he said, for her mammaries.

Until Dolly entered the world, cloning was the stuff of science fiction. It had been raised as a possibility decades ago, then dismissed, relegated to the realm of the kooky, the fringy, something that serious scientists thought was simply not going to happen anytime soon.

Yet when it happened, even though it involved but one sheep, it was truly fantastic, and at the same time horrifying in a way that is hard to define. In 1972, when Willard Gaylin, a psychiatrist and the founder of the Hastings Center, an ethics think tank, mistakenly thought that science was on the verge of cloning, he described its awesome power: "One could imagine taking a single sloughed cell from the skin of a person's hand, or even from the hand of a mummy since cells are neither `alive' nor `dead,' but merely intact or not intact, and seeing it perpetuate itself into a sheet of skin tissue. But could one really visualize the cell forming a finger, let alone a hand, let alone an embryo, let alone another Amenhotep?"

And what if more than one clone is made? Is it even within the realm of the imaginable to think that someday, perhaps decades from now, but someday, you could clone yourself and make tens, dozens, hundreds of genetically identical twins? Is it really science fiction to think that your cells could be improved beforehand, genetically engineered to add some genes and snip out others? These ideas, that so destroy the notion of the self, that touch on the idea of the soul, of human identity, seemed so implausible to most scientists that they had declared cloning off-limits for discussion.

Even ethicists, those professional worriers whose business it is to raise alarms about medicine and technology, were steered away from talk of cloning, though they tried to make it a serious topic. In fact, it was one of the first subjects mentioned when the bioethics field came into its own in the late 1960s and early 1970s. But scientists quashed the ethicists' ruminations, telling them to stop inventing such scary scenarios. The ethicists were informed that they were giving science a bad name to raise such specters as if they were real possibilities. The public would be frightened, research grants might dry up, scientists would be seen as Frankensteins, and legitimate studies that could benefit humankind could be threatened as part of an anti-science backlash.

Daniel Callahan, one of the founders of the bioethics movement and the founder, with Gaylin, of the Hastings Center, recalled that when he and others wanted to talk about cloning, scientists pooh-poohed them. They were told, he said, that "there was no real incentive for science to do this and it was just one of those scary things that ethicists and others were talking about that would do real harm to science."

Now, with the birth of Dolly, the ethicists were vindicated. Yes, it was a sheep that was cloned, not a human being. But there was nothing exceptional about sheep. Even Wilmut, who made it clear that he abhorred the very idea of cloning people, said that there was no longer any theoretical reason why humans could not clone themselves, using the same methods he had used to clone Dolly. "There is no reason in principle why you couldn't do it." But, he added, "all of us would find that offensive."

* * *

The utterly pragmatic approach of Wilmut and many other scientists, however, ignores the awesome nature of what was accomplished. Our era is said to be devoted to the self, with psychologists and philosophers battling over who can best probe the nature of our identities. But cloning pares the questions down to their essence, forcing us to think about what we mean by the self, whether we are our genes or, if not, what makes us us. "To thine own self be true" goes the popular line from Shakespeare--but what is the self?

We live in an age of the ethicist, a time when we argue about pragmatism and compromises in our quest to be morally right. But cloning forces us back to the most basic questions that have plagued humanity since the dawn of recorded time: What is good and what is evil? And how much potential for evil can we tolerate to obtain something that might be good? We live in a time when sin is becoming one of those quaint words that we might hear in church but that has little to do with our daily world. Cloning, however, with its possibilities for creating our own identical twins, brings us back to the ancient sins of vanity and pride: the sins of Narcissus, who so loved himself, and of Prometheus, who, in stealing fire, sought the powers of God. In a time when we hear rallying cries of reproductive freedom, of libertarianism and the rights of people to do what they want, so long as they hurt no one else, cloning, by raising the possibility that people could be made to order like commodities, places such ideas against the larger backdrop of human dignity.

So before we can ask why we are so fascinated by cloning, we have to examine our souls and ask, What exactly so bothers many of us about trying to replicate our genetic selves? Or, if we are not bothered, why aren't we?

We want children who resemble us. Even couples who use donor eggs because the woman's ovaries have failed or because her eggs are not easily fertilized, or who use donor sperm because the man's sperm is not viable, peruse catalogs of donors to find people who resemble themselves. We want to replicate ourselves. Several years ago, a poem by Linda Pastan, called "To a Daughter Leaving Home," was displayed on the walls of New York subways. It read:

Knit two, purl two,
I make of small boredoms
a fabric
to keep you warm.
Is it my own image
I love so
in your face?
I lean over your sleep,
Narcissus over
his clear pool,
ready to fall in--
to drown for you
if necessary.

Yet if we so love ourselves, reflected in our children, why is it so terrifying to so many of us to think of seeing our exact genetic replicas born again, identical twins years younger than we? Is there a hidden fear that we would be forcing God to give us another soul, thereby bending God to our will, or, worse yet, that we would be creating soul-less beings that were merely genetic shells of humans? After all, in many religions, the soul is supposed to be present from the moment of conception, before a person is born and shaped by nurture as well as nature. If a clone is created, how could its soul be different from the soul of the person who is cloned? Is it possible, as molecular biologist Gunther Stendt once suggested, that "a human clone would not consist of real persons but merely of Cartesian automata in human shape"?

Or is it one thing for nature to form us through the vagaries of the genetic lottery, and another for us to take complete control, abandoning all thoughts of somehow, through the mixing of genes, having a child who is like us, but better? Normally, when a man and a woman have a child together, the child is an unpredictable mixture of the two. We recognize that, of course, in the hoary old joke in which a beautiful but dumb woman suggests to an ugly but brilliant man that the two have a child. Just think of how wonderful the baby would be, the woman says, with my looks and your brains. Aha, says the man. But what if the child inherited my looks and your brains?

Theologians speak of the special status of a child, born of an act of love between a man and a woman. Of course, we already routinely employ infertility treatments, like donor eggs, semen banks, and frozen embryos, that have weakened these ties between the parents and the child. But, said Gilbert Meilaender, a Lutheran theologian, cloning would be "a new and decisive turn on this road." Cloning entails the production, rather than the creation, of a child. It is "far less a surrender to the mystery of the genetic lottery," he said, and "far more an understanding of the child as a product of human will."

Elliott Dorff, a rabbi at the University of Judaism in Los Angeles, said much the same thing. "Each person involved has to get out of himself or herself in order to make and have a child." But if a person can be reproduced through cloning, that self-surrender is lost, and there is danger of self-idolization.

Cloning also poses a danger to our notion of mortality, Dorff said. The biblical psalm says, "Teach us to number our days so that we can obtain a heart of wisdom," he recalled. "The sense that there is a deadline, that there is an end to all this, forces us to make good use of our lives."

In this age of entertainment, when philosophical and theological questions are pushed aside as too difficult or too deep, cloning brings us face-to-face with our notion of what it means to be human and makes us confront both the privileges and limitations of life itself. It also forces us to question the powers of science. Is there, in fact, knowledge that we do not want? Are there paths we would rather not pursue?

The time is long past when we can speak of the purity of science, divorced from its consequences. If any needed reminding that the innocence of scientists was lost long ago, they need only recall the comments of J. Robert Oppenheimer, the genius who was a father of the atomic bomb and who was transformed in the process from a supremely confident man, ready to follow his scientific curiosity, to a humbled and stricken soul, wondering what science had wrought.

Before the bomb was made, Oppenheimer said, "When you see something that is technically sweet you go ahead and do it." After the bomb was dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, in a chilling speech at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology in 1947, he said: "In some sort of crude sense which no vulgarity, no humor, no overstatement can quite extinguish, the physicists have known sin; and this is a knowledge which they cannot lose."

As with the atom bomb, cloning is complex, multilayered in its threats and its promises. It offers the possibility of real scientific advances that can improve our lives and save them. In medicine, scientists dream of using cloning to reprogram cells so we can make our own body parts for transplantation. Suppose, for example, you needed a bone-marrow transplant. Some deadly forms of leukemia can be cured completely if doctors destroy your own marrow and replace it with healthy marrow from someone else. But the marrow must be a close genetic match to your own. If not, it will lash out at you and kill you. Bone marrow is the source of the white blood cells of the immune system. If you have someone else's marrow, you'll make their white blood cells. And if those cells think you are different from them, they will attack.

Today, if you need marrow, you have to hope that a sister, brother, parent, or child happens to have bone-marrow cells that are genetically compatible with your own. If you have no relative whose marrow matches yours, you can search in computer databases of people who have volunteered to donate their marrow, but your chances of finding someone who matches you are less than one in twenty thousand--or one in a million if your genetic type is especially rare.

But suppose, instead, that scientists could take one of your cells--any cell--and merge it with a human egg. The egg would start to divide, to develop, but it would not be permitted to divide more than a few times. Instead, technicians would bathe it in proteins that direct primitive cells, embryo cells, to become marrow cells. What started out to be a clone of you could grow into a batch of your marrow--the perfect match.

More difficult, but not inconceivable, would be to grow solid organs, like kidneys or livers, in the same way.

Another possibility is to create animals whose organs are perfect genetic matches for humans. If you needed a liver, a kidney, or even a heart, you might be able to get one from a pig clone that was designed so it had human proteins on the surface of its organs. The reason transplant surgeons steer away from using animal organs in humans, even though there is a dire shortage of human organs, is that animals are so genetically different from people. A pig kidney transplanted into a human is just so foreign that the person's immune system will attack it and destroy it. But cloning offers a different approach. Scientist could take pig cells, for example, and add human genes to them in the laboratory, creating pig cells that were coated with human proteins. Then they could make cloned pigs from those cells. Each pig would have organs that looked, to a human immune system, for all the world like a human organ. These organs could be used for transplantation.

Cloning could also be used to make animals that are living drug factories--exactly the experiment that Ian Wilmut's sponsor, a Scottish company called PPL Therapeutics, Ltd., wants to conduct. Scientists could insert genes into laboratory cells that would force the cells to make valuable drugs, like clotting factors for hemophiliacs. Then they could clone animals from those cells and create animals that made the drugs in their milk. The only step remaining would be to milk the clones and extract the drugs.

Another possibility would be to clone prize dairy cows. The average cow produces about fifteen thousand pounds of milk annually, but world champion milk producers make as much as forty thousand pounds of milk a year. The problem for breeders is that there are, apparently, so many genes involved in creating one of these phenomenal cows that no one has learned how to breed them the old-fashioned way. But if you had a cow that produced forty thousand pounds of milk a year, you could clone her and make a herd.

Zoologists might clone animals that are on the verge of extinction, keeping them alive and propagating when they might otherwise have vanished from the earth.

The possibilities are limitless, scientists say, and so, some argue, we should stop focusing on our hypothetical fears and think about the benefits that cloning could bring.

Others say that cloning is far from business as usual, far from a technical advance, and that we should be wary of heading down such a brambly path.

Read More Show Less

Customer Reviews

Be the first to write a review
( 0 )
Rating Distribution

5 Star

(0)

4 Star

(0)

3 Star

(0)

2 Star

(0)

1 Star

(0)

Your Rating:

Your Name: Create a Pen Name or

Barnes & Noble.com Review Rules

Our reader reviews allow you to share your comments on titles you liked, or didn't, with others. By submitting an online review, you are representing to Barnes & Noble.com that all information contained in your review is original and accurate in all respects, and that the submission of such content by you and the posting of such content by Barnes & Noble.com does not and will not violate the rights of any third party. Please follow the rules below to help ensure that your review can be posted.

Reviews by Our Customers Under the Age of 13

We highly value and respect everyone's opinion concerning the titles we offer. However, we cannot allow persons under the age of 13 to have accounts at BN.com or to post customer reviews. Please see our Terms of Use for more details.

What to exclude from your review:

Please do not write about reviews, commentary, or information posted on the product page. If you see any errors in the information on the product page, please send us an email.

Reviews should not contain any of the following:

  • - HTML tags, profanity, obscenities, vulgarities, or comments that defame anyone
  • - Time-sensitive information such as tour dates, signings, lectures, etc.
  • - Single-word reviews. Other people will read your review to discover why you liked or didn't like the title. Be descriptive.
  • - Comments focusing on the author or that may ruin the ending for others
  • - Phone numbers, addresses, URLs
  • - Pricing and availability information or alternative ordering information
  • - Advertisements or commercial solicitation

Reminder:

  • - By submitting a review, you grant to Barnes & Noble.com and its sublicensees the royalty-free, perpetual, irrevocable right and license to use the review in accordance with the Barnes & Noble.com Terms of Use.
  • - Barnes & Noble.com reserves the right not to post any review -- particularly those that do not follow the terms and conditions of these Rules. Barnes & Noble.com also reserves the right to remove any review at any time without notice.
  • - See Terms of Use for other conditions and disclaimers.
Search for Products You'd Like to Recommend

Recommend other products that relate to your review. Just search for them below and share!

Create a Pen Name

Your Pen Name is your unique identity on BN.com. It will appear on the reviews you write and other website activities. Your Pen Name cannot be edited, changed or deleted once submitted.

 
Your Pen Name can be any combination of alphanumeric characters (plus - and _), and must be at least two characters long.

Continue Anonymously

    If you find inappropriate content, please report it to Barnes & Noble
    Why is this product inappropriate?
    Comments (optional)