Pot-holes Everywhere: How (not) to Read my Biography of Barbara McClintock
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Citation Keller, Evelyn Fox. "Pot-holes Everywhere: How (not) to Read my Biography of Barbara McClintock." Writing about Lives in Science, edited by Vita Fortunati and Elena Agazzi, V&R Unipress, 2014: 33-42 © 2018 Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht
As Published https://doi.org/10.14220/9783737002639.33
Version Author's final manuscript
Citable link http://hdl.handle.net/1721.1/118384
Terms of Use Article is made available in accordance with the publisher's policy and may be subject to US copyright law. Please refer to the publisher's site for terms of use. 1 2 3 4 5 Part I Between Biography and Autobiography 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 1 Evelyn Fox Keller 2 3 4 Pot-holes Everywhere: How (not) to Read my Biography of 5 6 Barbara McClintock 7 8 9 10 11 12 The story of the public reception of my biography of Barbara McClintock is a 13 saga in itself, one that I divide into three acts: the writing of the book; its 14 reception before the award of a Nobel Prize; and the reframing of that reception 15 after the prize. I write about it here because I think the story may harbor moral, 16 or even historical, lessons. My reference to public includes lay readers, of course, 17 but also readers who identify themselves as feminists and/or as scientists. In- 18 deed, I want especially to focus on the reading of my book by the latter two 19 groups. 20 21 22 23 I. Act One: Circa 1977 24 25 Act One begins with my initial undertaking: how it came about that I decided to 26 write a biography of McClintock, and what it was I originally thought such a 27 biography might accomplish. I should say at the beginning that my commitment 28 to this project did not come easily: I saw it as a disruption from the work I most 29 wanted to do, namely the project I had just begun on gender and science. In my 30 view, the McClintock story was a complete diversion. While it ought surely tell us 31 something about the history of women in science, it seemed to me to have no 32 obvious relation whatever to the arguments I wanted to make about gender and 33 science. 34 I can date the beginning of this project with my return home one afternoon 35 after seeing a wonderful film about a woman conductor, Antonia Brico. I had 36 found this film to be powerful, moving, indeed inspiring, and I reflected that I 37 had never seen a comparable movie about the struggles and aspirations of a 38 woman scientist (apart, i.e., from the mythical Marie Curie). Nor for that matter 39 could I recall a literary heroine who was a scientist. Why was that, I wondered. 40 Surely the lives of women scientists ought to have as much literary and cinematic 41 potential as those of women conductors, yet they apparently are not seen as such. 4 Evelyn Fox Keller
1 It was a puzzle, but also, somehow, a wrong that needed redressing. And so I was 2 thinking when I opened the door to my apartment and heard the phone ringing. 3 The call was from a man I did not know, someone who had just read the brief 4 account I had recently published of my own experience as a woman graduate 5 student in physics,1 and who had called to suggest that I write something about 6 Barbara McClintock. Putting two and two together, I thought, aha! Now there’s a 7 really good idea. I didn’t know McClintock personally, but I knew about her, and 8 I had seen her from afar. I knew she was very impressive, and also quite in- 9 timidating. In fact I’d seen her years before when I was a graduate student, 10 visiting Cold Spring Harbor, and the truth is that she had terrified me. She 11 terrified me because she was a woman so alone. And in her aloneness, she 12 confirmed my worst fears about becoming a woman physicist. At that time I 13 simply didn’t want to know about Barbara McClintock. But now, in my newly 14 informed feminist consciousness, in my new awareness of (and sympathy for) 15 the struggles of women attempting to forge unconventional paths, I found her an 16 ideal figure for someone to write about, and perhaps even to make a film about. 17 That is, for someone who would be more appropriate to the task than I. But 18 perhaps, I mused, I might be able to write up a short interview – possibly for The 19 New Yorker – that would attract the interest of someone appropriate. 20 With that thought in mind, I called a mutual friend, who relayed my interest to 21 McClintock, sending her a copy of my own autobiographical piece (The Anomaly 22 of a Woman in Physics). On the strength of their recommendation, and the 23 article, she agreed to talk to me. The first meeting was evidently some sort of test 24 in which she seated me behind her desk and proceeded with her own interview of 25 me. Apparently I passed, for she then agreed to turn the interviewing role over to 26 me. I spent the rest of the afternoon talking with her and, on the way home, had 27 the thought: My God, I have just encountered – for the first time in my life – a 28 ‘great mind’ in a woman’s body. Let me explain. 29 I had been trained in theoretical physics, and training in theoretical physics 30 might be said to be a training in the appreciation of ‘great minds.’ But all the great 31 minds I read about, or knew about, belonged to men, and it was a shock to me – 32 especially as a feminist – to find that I could not think of a single ‘great mind’ 33 belonging to a woman. Until, i.e., I met Barbara McClintock. This in itself, I 34 thought, is reason enough to write about her. But still, I was conflicted. Most 35 importantly, I did not think her story had anything to do with my arguments 36 about gender and science – arguments, i.e., primarily about the impact of 37 ideologies of masculinity and femininity on the historical production of science. 38 39 1 Evelyn Fox Keller, ‘The Anomaly of a Woman in Physics’, in Working it Out: 23 Women 40 Writers, Artists, Scientists, and Scholars Talk About Their Lives and Work, ed. by Sara Ruddick 41 and Pamela Daniels (New York: Pantheon, 1977), pp. 71–91. Pot-holes Everywhere 5
1 I saw McClintock’s story as the story of a maverick woman scientist, with the 2 emphasis on maverick. To be sure, ideologies of masculinity and femininity were 3 part of the story of her deviance as a scientist, but what most interested me was 4 the impact of her outsider status on the acceptance (or lack thereof) of her work. 5 Of course, she wasn’t a total outsider: as Nathan Comfort has rightly em- 6 phasized, she was a member of the National Academy, she had been president of 7 the American Genetics Society, and was the recipient of many other kinds of 8 recognition as well. But even so, she remained in a category of her own. Even 9 while she was clearly respected by many, her isolation was both real and un- 10 deniable, as was the skepticism with which her most important and most 11 original work was greeted. Put crudely, she was never a member of the club. And 12 even though she may not have aspired to such membership, she suffered acutely 13 from the isolation, and from what she saw as a chronic failure of understanding – 14 often by those she most respected. At the same time, she also took pride in her 15 deviance. She presented herself as a maverick, and wore her eccentricity, all her 16 eccentricities, on her sleeve. She was proud of her difference. And part of my aim 17 in writing this book was to legitimate her right to be as different, as eccentric, as 18 she chose. Or at least to have the same latitude that was available to great male 19 scientists. Certainly, she was no more eccentric than Albert Einstein, yet it was 20 (and still is) my strong impression that women scientists have historically had to 21 be very careful not to appear too deviant. Above all, I wanted to break the 22 equation between different and lesser that I believed (partly on the basis of my 23 own experience) exerted an especially strong stranglehold on women. One might 24 say that I wanted to establish the right of a woman to be a great scientist. 25 But it was a wrenching choice. I regarded the book I wanted to write on gender 26 and science as the most important work of my life – my chance to make a truly 27 original contribution. But I did not think of McClintock’s story as being about 28 gender – it was about women and their right to be different. Furthermore, the 29 initial response of many of my feminist friends was not encouraging. These were 30 the early days of feminist theory, and when they heard me talk about McClintock, 31 the initial response of a number of my friends was, ‘she’s not a feminist, why are 32 you writing about her? She’s just doing everything that male scientists have been 33 doing all along; eschewing the world of intimacy, of intimate relationships, of 34 emotions, she has devoted her entire life to her work, just like men have done.’ 35 But to me, that was just the point: I wanted to establish her right to be as different 36 from the feminine stereotypes as she chose. And I was troubled by the rejection 37 of this as a feminist project by some of my most committed feminist friends. 38 By contrast, the scientists I spoke with did not think of her as either a feminist 39 or a non-feminist; to them, she was just an eccentric. They were clearly re- 40 spectful, and many regarded her with affection, but what was foremost in their 41 account of her was her eccentricity. She was a maverick, she did all these weird 6 Evelyn Fox Keller
1 things and no one could understand her work. She was certainly very smart, but 2 they did not think of her as a great scientist; her work was, well, inscrutable. You 3 couldn’t read it. 4 I might also mention a third group, the publishers. Initially I had gotten a 5 contract from W. H. Freeman for a special series they were publishing. But while 6 I was writing the book, they changed directors, and the new director was a very 7 close friend of Jim Watson. There’s a quote in that book that is not attributed 8 (describing McClintock as ‘just an old bag that has been hanging around Cold 9 Spring Harbor all these years’), but Watson would have recognized it as his. And 10 when I sent in the manuscript, the new director sat on it for six months, finally 11 sending back a manuscript that was completely marked up – first of all changing 12 the title (‘a feeling for the organism’, a quote from McClintock herself), and then 13 marking with a red pencil to cut out just about everything that had to do with the 14 emotional side of her scientific life – i.e., to what I thought was most interesting 15 about the biography. I rejected the changes and held to my convictions, but they 16 sat on the manuscript for a few more months. Finally they published the book, as 17 I wrote it, albeit in a much smaller edition than was originally planned. In fact, it 18 was sold out two weeks after publication. Three months later, when she got the 19 Nobel Prize, the committee found itself unable to locate any copies. 20 In the two or three months between publication and the awarding of the Nobel 21 Prize, virtually no one read the book either as a feminist manifesto or as an 22 account of a feminine science, neither scientists nor feminists. I had worked hard 23 – and seemingly effectively – to break any suggestion of a possible equation 24 between McClintock and stereotypic female, if only because she herself had so 25 adamantly rejected that stereotype throughout her life. My insistence on the title 26 – ‘A Feeling for the Organism’ – was based not on an acceptance of feeling as a 27 feminine trait but on the rejection of that very idea. Feeling, I insisted, is a human 28 trait, one not limited to women, and I worked hard (perhaps even at times 29 stretching the point) to place her particular style of science, her own emphasis on 30 the importance of a feeling for the organism, in a well established (albeit mi- 31 nority) tradition. Indeed, this was a tradition that was particularly associated 32 with the ‘great minds’ of science. Einstein, for example. I argued, and early 33 readers (especially scientists) seemed to agree, that this is not so much the story 34 of a woman scientist as it is of a creative scientist (see, e.g., the review by Stephen 35 Jay Gould). Indeed, early responses by scientists were indifferent to gender. 36 When I taught the book, students, male and female alike, were enthusiastic, even 37 grateful, offering comments like: ‘You gave me permission to respect my own 38 private vision of science’; ‘I’ve always wanted to do science in this way and I never 39 had the courage.’ In fact, when the book appeared, I was teaching in the Math- 40 ematics Department at Northeastern University, and the Chair of my department 41 (a man) came and thanked me for giving him permission to do mathematics the Pot-holes Everywhere 7
1 way he had always wanted to do it. Of course, not all scientists were equally 2 enthusiastic: some (perhaps especially molecular biologists) were clearly wor- 3 ried about the tacit critique of them for having failed to acknowledge the im- 4 portance of her work. But those who did like the book read it very much in the 5 spirit of McClintock’s own vision (and mine) of a ‘gender-free’ science. (Femi- 6 nists readers, as I have already indicated, were less certain – indeed, they seemed 7 to have been altogether less interested.) 8 9 10 II. Act Two: Feminist Responses after the Nobel Prize 11 12 The awarding of a Nobel Prize changed everything. Contrary to good capitalist 13 economic sense, the publishers did not go back to press for six months, but when 14 the book finally did reappear, new readings – both by feminists and by scientists 15 – emerged with remarkable rapidity. The Nobel Prize made McClintock an 16 important figure in the history of science; it made her story something worth 17 fighting for, or fighting over. For example, some feminists who had earlier dis- 18 missed McClintock for doing science ‘just like a man’, and had rejected the 19 writing of her story as ‘not a feminist project’, now sought to embrace her as a 20 feminist (or femininist) heroine, and to similarly herald her story as a feminist 21 parable. Some even welcomed the equation between feeling and women, and 22 hence between feeling and feminism, and accordingly to see McClintock herself 23 as an exemplar of a feminist (or feminine) science. At the same time, a new 24 reading appeared among scientists, many of whom now welcomed her as a 25 member of the club, claiming her as one of their own, as a scientist whom they 26 had always appreciated. 27 Several questions arise about both of these new readings. The most important 28 one regarding the feminist rereading is, what is meant by a ‘feminist science’? 29 The term seems to mean different things to different people, but it quickly 30 became evident that, to most readers, a feminist science meant a science that 31 women scientists would ‘naturally’ opt to do. The implication is straightforward: 32 to change science one needs simply to have more women in science. But the 33 notion that there was anything that women would ‘naturally’ do had become 34 exceedingly problematic in feminist theory and indeed very worrisome for many 35 (including me). In my own view, the only way that more women in science might 36 change science would be by disrupting the prevailing ideological association 37 between science and masculinity. More specifically, I found the celebration of 38 McClintock as an exemplar of a feminist science (in this understanding of the 39 term) especially disturbing – first, because it seemed to do violence to her own 40 history, and second, because it reinforced the stereotypes that have for so long 41 worked to confine women in traditional roles. 8 Evelyn Fox Keller
1 McClintock had spent her entire life repudiating feminine stereotypes. For 2 her, science was a place where gender could disappear; her hope was for a gender 3 neutral science. But the idea of a feminist/feminine science was also politically 4 worrisome. I knew from the history of women in science how very damaging the 5 idea that women would do a different kind of science could be for women 6 scientists in their struggles to be accepted. To some feminists, it may have 7 seemed self-evident that a different kind of science would be a better science, but 8 to most others (and especially to most scientists), different almost always means 9 lesser. 10 Yet gender and gender ideology did seem important to McClintock’s story, 11 and the question remained, in what ways? While writing A Feeling for the Or- 12 ganism, I had sought assiduously to leave my own preoccupations about gender 13 and science out of my account of her biography. That is to say, I tried to write 14 McClintock’s story in a way that was faithful to her own interests, her own 15 aspirations, rather than my own. But turning to my new book, Reflections on 16 Gender and Science, it quickly became evident that I had to address the question 17 of just what relevance, if any, McClintock’s story had to my arguments about the 18 historical role of gender in the formation of science, and I had to do so directly. 19 Was there in fact any relation at all? My initial assumption had been that there 20 was none. But ultimately, some sort of relation became impossible to ignore. 21 Many, if not all, of the features that made McClintock’s style seem so idiosyn- 22 cratic, so different from mainstream practices of science, are after all typically 23 associated with traditional western ideologies of ‘feminine’: e.g., her insistence 24 on ‘a feeling for the organism’; on the power of identification, of forming a 25 personal relation with the object of study; on the importance of intuition. So the 26 question loomed: How is it that someone who so adamantly rejected all feminine 27 stereotypes ended up practicing her science in a way that conforms to those 28 stereotypes? 29 I rejected out of hand the suggestion that she might somehow have carried 30 these stereotypes with her body ; stereotypes are not written into genomes. 31 Ideology is powerful, it is constraining, but it is not absolutely binding. Another 32 possible answer – namely, that McClintock continued to inhabit these stereo- 33 types, despite her denial, either as a residue of an early identification with her 34 mother, of her experience as a mother, or by conventional socialization – seemed 35 equally implausible. Indeed, all such psychological interpretations are clearly 36 refuted by the facts of her own biography. I was therefore obliged to find another 37 solution to the conundrum. Here is what I proposed: 38 In a science constructed around the naming of object (nature) as female and the parallel 39 naming of subject (mind) as male, any scientist who happens to be a woman is con- 40 fronted with a contradiction in terms. This poses a critical problem of identity: any 41 Pot-holes Everywhere 9
1 scientist who is not a man walks a path bounded on one side by inauthenticity and on 2 the other by subversion. […] Only if she undergoes a radical dis-identification from 3 self can she share masculine pleasure in mastering a nature cast in the image of woman as passive, inert, and blind. Her alternative is to attempt a radical redefinition of terms. 4 Nature must be renamed as not female, or, at least, as not an alienated object. By the 5 same token, the mind, if the female scientist is to have one, must be renamed as not 6 necessarily male, as gender neutral, and accordingly recast with a more inclusive 7 subjectivity […]. This is not to say that the male scientist cannot claim similar re- 8 definition (certainly many have done so) but only that, by contrast to the woman 9 scientist, his identity does not depend on it.2 10 11 A subtle argument, to be sure. But one that, at least in my own view, could be 12 clearly distinguished from a characterization of McClintock as an icon of a 13 feminist/feminine science. No author wants to be misread, but I felt a particular 14 obligation – on the one hand to McClintock herself, and on the other hand, to 15 women scientists – to protest. And I did so for years. But to little avail. The 16 argument I presented in Reflections may have satisfied me, but it clearly had no 17 impact either on those feminists who wished to read my biography of McClin- 18 tock as exemplifying a feminist science, or on the popular accounts that em- 19 braced such a reading. What Nathan Comfort has called ‘the McClintock myth’ 20 had taken root, and there seemed nothing I could do about it. 21 But while some found pleasure in the account of McClintock as a feminist 22 scientist, there was another group of readers – namely, women who were actively 23 engaged in supporting the advance of women in science – who clearly did not. 24 Nor did they find my own interpretation of the relevance of gender in this story 25 of any help – indeed, they found my focus on the difference of McClintock’s 26 science offensive in itself. Conflating sex with gender, their reading of my work 27 on gender and science just added fuel to the fire. Particularly enraged were Ann 28 Koblitz and Mary Beth Ruskai, and they were vitriolic in their attacks. Clearly I 29 had touched a very raw nerve, for they read any reference to difference as 30 necessarily implying that women would be less adequate as scientists – an 31 implication they resisted with all their might. I sympathized. But this was not the 32 argument I was trying to make. To the extent that I aspired to a different kind of 33 science, that science would be different by virtue of being gender-free; it would 34 be a science practiced by both men and women in a different (gender-free) 35 ideological context. Clearly these readers did not get it. They could not let go of 36 the equation between feeling and women; they could not see the force of gender 37 ideology on the ways in which both men and women – and science too – were 38 acculturated. 39 40 2 Evelyn Fox Keller, Reflections on Gender and Science (New Haven: Yale University Press, 41 1985), pp. 174–75. 10 Evelyn Fox Keller
1 I kept struggling, trying to correct this misapprehension. One day, I convened 2 a workshop of women scientists in MIT, an all day workshop, where I went over 3 the arguments carefully. And I got an email from one of them saying: ‘That was 4 really interesting, but I still don’t believe that women’s intuition is inscribed in 5 their chromosomes.’ They didn’t get it. It seemed to me that they could not get 6 the fundamental distinction between sex and gender on which the argument 7 rests. You can be a woman, you can be affected by stereotypes, by ideology – 8 everyone is, men and women alike, we are all shaped by that ideology – and our 9 struggles to escape requires attending to the ways in which it works. In the case of 10 science, it requires not only rethinking the nature of men and women, but also 11 re-naming mind and nature. As a woman scientist, I argued, it requires the re- 12 naming of all the categories that have traditionally been gendered. What does 13 renaming mind and nature mean? It means re-admitting all those values that had 14 been excluded from science because they were, quote, ‘feminine’. It means re- 15 claiming the values that are feminine, but reclaiming them not as women’s 16 prerogative but as human traits, as human contributions. In response to Koblitz, 17 I published a letter in Science in 1987 in which I tried, once again, to explain: 18 The focus of Reflections on Gender and Science is not, finally, on cultural obstacles 19 facing women in science, but rather on the role that gender stereotypes have played 20 within the actual workings of science. The exclusion of values culturally relegated to the 21 female domain has led to an effective ‘masculinization’ of science – to an unwitting 22 alliance between scientific values and ideals of masculinity embraced by our particular 23 culture. All of our best hopes for science – our very aspirations to objectivity and 24 universality – would argue that such [an] alliance (and exclusion) would be to the detriment not only of women scientists, but of all scientists, and indeed to the detri- 25 ment of science itself.3 26 27 But again, it was of no use; the McClintock story had gotten away from me – I no 28 longer owned it. As one woman biologist at MIT said to me: ‘I know you didn’t 29 claim McClintock as a feminine scientist, but you’re still responsible for the 30 media representation.’ 31 32 33 III. Act Three: The Scientific Community Responds to the Nobel 34 Prize 35 36 Although the response of most of the scientists I initially spoke about McClin- 37 tock with when doing my research was to emphasize her obscurity, the difficulty 38 of understanding her papers, her eccentricity, her mysticism, now – after the 39 Nobel Prize – they said, ‘What do you mean, we didn’t understand McClintock, 40 41 3 Evelyn Fox Keller, ‘Women in Science’, Science, 236 (1987), 507. Pot-holes Everywhere 11
1 we didn’t appreciate McClintock? We always appreciated McClintock, we never 2 doubted her.’ But over the course of time, and in direct response to the media 3 perpetuation of ‘the McClintock myth’ – i.e., to the image of McClintock as an 4 icon of a feminine / feminist scientist –, some began to change their tune. They 5 still insisted she was a maverick, but now, she wasn’t just any old maverick, she 6 was a feminist maverick. And they attributed that interpretation to me. One 7 scientist said to me, ‘Of course this is what you claim, I mean, just look at the title 8 – ‘A Feeling for the Organism’ – without question, this defines her a feminine 9 scientist.’ And another scientist said, ‘Oh, we know she was a feminist maverick, 10 after all, she was a lesbian.’ (Whether or not McClintock was a lesbian is of course 11 a different story altogether, one that I deliberately chose not to go into in the 12 book, and still choose to put to one side). 13 An important milestone in the way in which scientists reread my account of 14 McClintock was the publication of Nathaniel Comfort’s book, The TangledField, 15 in 2001.4 Comfort’s explicit aim was ‘to lay the McClintock myth to rest’ – i.e., to 16 supplant my account of McClintock by what he saw as a more objective history. 17 In this effort, he sought not only to refute McClintock’s feminist credentials (the 18 core of the myth), but also, to challenge the claim that both she and her work had 19 been marginalized by her colleagues (another key component of the myth), and, 20 at least to some degree, to question the magnitude of her scientific achievements. 21 As the blurb for the cover of Comfort’s book puts it, 22 McClintock’s work was neither ignored in the 1950s nor wholly accepted two decades 23 later. Nor was McClintock marginalized by scientists; throughout the decades of her 24 alleged rejection, she remained a distinguished figure in her field. Comfort replaces the 25 ‘McClintock myth’ with a new story. 26 27 As it happens, the new story is one in which the wisdom of mainstream biology, 28 particularly of molecular biology, is thoroughly vindicated.5 29 Comfort did not invent this alternate version. It was based on the testimony of 30 a selected set of testimonies by informants interviewed long after the Nobel 31 Prize. In other words, long after the memory of these scientists had itself been 32 transformed by the historical events that in this case shaped not so much 33 McClintock’s actual history as it changed their collective recollections of that 34 history. The differences between the two biographies are of course troubling and 35 we want to see them resolved. But can they be? Can we say which of these 36 accounts is the truer one? 37 38 4 Nathaniel C. Comfort, The Tangled Field: Barbara McClintock’s Search for the Patterns of 39 Genetic Control (Cambridge MA: Harvard University Press, 2001). 5 In fact, Comfort was prodded to take on this project by Norton Zinder, a molecular biologist 40 who had been nursing a fierce resentment of the success of my account and its implied 41 criticism of molecular biology. 12 Evelyn Fox Keller
1 Probably not. I hope that by now it will be clear that the McClintock story is a 2 commodity that, from the start, was shaped, and reshaped, by the memories of 3 our informants, by the interests of the author (or authors), and the needs of the 4 various kinds of readers. Informants’ memories are themselves influenced by 5 their needs, and inevitably so for, just as we constantly rewrite the stories we 6 read, so too, we constantly rewrite our memories. We do so to accommodate the 7 needs that we bring to those stories and memories. The version of the 8 McClintock story that I wrote was shaped largely by what I heard about it from 9 McClintock, from the testimonies of others that I subsequently solicited, and by 10 the interests I brought to the project. That version too has a historicity: it was 11 narrated (and recorded) at a particular moment in time. Is it closer to the ‘real’ 12 story? Well, I might (and indeed do) think so, but ‘reality’ is a difficult com- 13 modity to get one’s hands on. Perhaps the best I can say is that my account is 14 closer to the story as McClintock herself saw it, and as many of the relevant actors 15 saw it at the time of my writing, but Comfort’s account is almost surely closer to 16 the story that most molecular biologists tell themselves (and each other) today. 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41