Star Trek Re-Watch: “Is There in Truth No Beauty?”

Is There in Truth No Beauty?
Written by Jean Lisette Aroeste
Directed by Ralph Senensky

Season 3, Episode 5
Production episode: 3×07
Original air date: October 18, 1968
Star date: 5630.7

Mission summary

Enterprise is on routine taxi duty, escorting a less-than-routine diplomat back to his homeworld: Ambassador Kollos is a Medusan, “a race of beings who are formless, so utterly hideous” that just looking at one will drive the beholder mad. But on the up side, they’re very intelligent and have wonderful personalities.

Certain precautions are taken to welcome their unsightly guest aboard; due to his advanced mental discipline, only Mr. Spock is allowed to greet the ambassador, and even so the Vulcan has to wear an unfashionable red visor to shield him from Kollos’ unbearable ugliness—though it’s meager protection from the mockery of anyone who sees him in it. Kollos’s visit is preceded by Larry Marvick, a Starfleet engineer who was one of Enterprise’s designers. He reminds them all that the visor is really important before Engineer Scott drags him off for an impromptu date.

As soon as the weak humans vacate the transporter room, Spock beams up a beautiful woman and her baggage. She salutes the first officer Vulcan-style and introduces herself as Dr. Jones… which means that box next to her must be the Ark of the Covenant! Actually, it’s just the Medusan’s idea of formal wear. Spock affixes an antigravity handle to the outside of the ambassador’s box while Kirk clears the corridors of personnel. Then the Vulcan and Dr. Jones tote Kollos to his quarters and make polite conversation.

SPOCK: Dr. Jones, may I congratulate you on your assignment with Ambassador Kollos.
JONES: Thank you, but the assignment’s not yet definite. It will depend upon my ability to achieve a true mind-link with the ambassador.
SPOCK: I’m sure you will find it a fascinating experience.
JONES: I wasn’t aware that anyone had ever achieved a mind-link with the Medusans.
SPOCK: No one ever has. I was referring to mind-links I had attempted with members of other species.
JONES: I’ve heard, Mr. Spock, that you turned down the assignment with the ambassador.
SPOCK: I was unable to accept. My life is here.

So that’s a little awkward.

Once the box is safely stowed, Enterprise departs for Medusa and Spock gets curious about what’s in the box. Jones tells him the ambassador would love to chat, so the Vulcan slips on his protective goggles. The lid slowly opens to reveal flashing lights and a greenish glow. After they share a meaningful moment, the box closes and Spock tells the doctor, “I almost envy you your assignment.” She reveals herself as a telepath when she probes Spock’s mind, worried that he’s after her job. After Spock reassures her and leaves her alone with her box, she flies into a jealous rage. “What is it he sees when he looks at you? I must know!”

She seems to have calmed down by dinner, a fancy event in her honor attended by Kirk, Dr. McCoy, Spock, Scott, and Larry. The human men embarrass themselves repeatedly by fawning over the only woman at the table. Kirk in particular wants to know everything about her, especially why it’s safe for her to work with Kollos when it’s dangerous for anyone else to even glimpse him. She explains that she’s a telepath and has mastered Vulcan techniques to filter out other people’s thoughts and control her own emotions. She may need some more work on the latter, because she still has it in for Spock.

JONES: I was just noticing your Vulcan IDIC, Mr. Spock. Is it a reminder that, as a Vulcan, you can mind-link with the Medusans far better than I could?
KIRK: Well, I doubt that Mr. Spock would don the most revered of all Vulcan symbols merely to annoy you, Doctor Jones.
SPOCK: As a matter of fact, I wear it this evening to honor you, Doctor.
MIRANDA: Indeed?

Kirk rescues his first officer by asking Jones how long it will be before he can replace Chekov; with their heightened thoughts and senses, Medusans would make terrific navigators if she can mind-link with Kollos successfully and Larry can design some equipment for them. Ever distrustful of new technology and ugliness, McCoy chimes in: “I don’t care how benevolent the Medusans are supposed to be. Isn’t it suicidal to deal with something ugly enough to drive men mad?” The group debates the merits and prejudices of beauty and the captain toasts Jones as “the loveliest human ever to grace a starship.” He might be trying a little too hard.

Jones abruptly rains on their parade when she announces, “There’s somebody nearby thinking of murder.” She can’t figure out who it is, even though you’d have to be blind not to notice Larry’s shifty reaction. But that pretty much kills the mood and ends the evening early. Shortly afterward, Larry seeks Jones out in her quarters and begs her not to go with the ambassador, in the creepiest way possible: “I understand that you’re a woman and that I’m a man, one of your own kind, and that Kollos will never be able to give you anything like this.” He kisses her, but she continues to rebuff his advances. Suddenly she gets the same psychic impression she had earlier and realizes that Larry is the one with murderous intent.

She offers to help him sort out his issues, but he storms out and heads for Kollos’ quarters. He aims a phaser at the ambassador, but the box opens and Larry is overwhelmed by the horrific sight within. He drops the weapon, flails around in agony for a while, then dashes into the corridor screaming his head off.

Jones rushes into Kollos’ room without a visor and finds Larry’s phaser on the floor. When Kirk, Spock, McCoy, and some red shirts arrive a moment later, she emerges holding a visor and tells them Larry saw the Medusan au naturel. Spock predicts that “insanity will surely be the result, Captain.” That doesn’t sound too bad until he clarifies: “Dangerous insanity.” That could be a problem, then.

Kirk issues a security bulletin, but it’s too late—Scotty has already given Larry the keys to Enterprise. Scotty tries to intervene as soon as he realizes Larry’s driving under the influence of Medusan, but the madman easily subdues the entire engineering crew singlehandedly. Larry pushes the engines past warp 9.5, ranting all the while: “We mustn’t sleep! They come in your dreams! That’s the worst! They suffocate in your dreams! We’re making it out of here!” This doesn’t instill confidence in the crew.

Kirk and Jones arrive in Engineering with a security team and finally manage to get the insane engineer and the ship under control. Scotty has no idea where they are now, but it looks like Enterprise has once again breached the stock footage at the galactic barrier. Larry confirms this: “Beyond the boundaries of the galaxy. We made it. We’re safe. We’re safe, Captain Kirk.” At least his heart was in the right place.

Larry starts to chill when he sees Dr. Jones, but when she reaches into his mind he freaks out again and tries to strangle her. He warns them that if they love her, she’ll kill them; to prove his point, he drops dead at their feet. Dr. McCoy is stumped at the cause of his spontaneous demise, but there’s no time to worry about that—Enterprise is in a swirly nether-space, a funky “space-time continuum” where no one has gone before and with no way back. Spock explains, sort of:

Unfortunately, we lack reference points on which to plot a return course. We experienced extreme sensory distortion, and we shall do so again if we attempt to use warp speed. And we cannot re-cross the barrier using sub light speed.

The only solution seems to be for the science officer to attempt a mind meld with Kollos, blending the Medusan’s unique sensory awareness with his own knowledge of the ship’s navigational controls. Since Dr. Jones will undoubtedly reject the notion, Kirk plans to distract her in the arboretum while Spock consults with Kollos. She doesn’t fall for the captain’s attempts to seduce her, and her Spidey sense warns her of Spock’s intentions. She offers herself for the mind-link instead, but Dr. McCoy explains that she can’t navigate the ship—because she’s blind!

MCCOY: Now wait a minute. I realize that you can do almost anything a sighted person can do, but you can’t pilot a starship.
KIRK: What?
SPOCK: Fascinating.
MCCOY: I’m sorry, Miranda, but you must be realistic. You are blind, and there are some things you simply cannot do.
SPOCK: Evidently a highly sophisticated sensor web. My compliments to you, and to your dressmaker.
KIRK: Yes, of course. It’s the only reasonable explanation. You can’t see and Kollos can’t hurt you.
SPOCK: An elegant solution. But I fail to understand why you apparently try to conceal your blindness, Dr. Jones.
KIRK: I think I understand. You said it. Pity is the worst of all.
JONES: Pity, which I hate. Do you think you can gather more information with your eyes than I can with my sensors? I could play tennis with you, Captain Kirk. I might even beat you. I am standing exactly one meter, four centimeters from the door. Can you judge distance that accurately? I can even tell you how fast your heart is beating.
KIRK: No, that won’t be necessary. Mr. Spock will make the mind-link. No other decision is possible.

She continues to refuse, but they convince her to ask the ambassador for his opinion. They hear a scream from inside the room, which doesn’t seem to trouble the men much, and when she comes out she admits defeat.

Kollos’ box is shielded from view behind a wall at Spock’s science station. The Vulcan successfully links with him, transformed by their combined consciousness and reveling in his new form and knowledge of Spock’s friends. He takes the helm and effortlessly guides them back through the barrier to their own galaxy at warp factor 1, returning them to their original location.

With his work done, Kollos seems to be getting comfortable in his new body. Kirk urges Kollos/Spock to sever the mind-link and he agrees. But he’s in such a hurry, he forgets to wear protection. Once they’re separated, Spock gazes on the Medusan with his naked eyes and is driven mad. He attacks the bridge crew until Kirk stuns him with a phaser.

Dr. Jones tries to help the Vulcan back to sanity in Sickbay, but Kirk worries that her jealousy is holding her back and calls her out on it.

KIRK: If you don’t reach him soon, he’ll die. But that’s what you want, isn’t it?
JONES: That’s a lie!
KIRK: Oh yes? You want him to die. What did you do to him on the bridge? Did you make him forget to put the visor over his eyes?
JONES: You’re insane!
KIRK: Yes, you know your rival, don’t you? You couldn’t keep him from making a mind-link with Kollos, something you couldn’t do yourself! With my words, I’ll make you hear such ugliness as Spock saw when he looked at Kollos with his naked eyes! The ugliness is within you!
JONES: That’s a lie! Liar!
KIRK: Your desire to see Kollos is madness! You can never see him. Never. But Spock saw Kollos, and for that he must die.
JONES: Sadistic, filthy liar!
KIRK: The smell of hatred, the stench of jealousy permeates you. Why don’t you strangle him while he lies there?
JONES: Don’t say any more, please!
KIRK: Kollos knows what’s in your heart. You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to Kollos.
JONES: Please go away!

The captain certainly doesn’t mince words, but his lecture gets through to her. She helps Spock recover, and in no time they’re all back in the transporter room seeing off Jones and Kollos, newly linked. She thanks Kirk for insulting her, claiming that his words helped her to see. The captain gives her a red rose and Spock and Dr. Jones exchange Vulcan pleasantries. She finally understands the meaning of the IDIC he keeps flaunting in front of her.

JONES: The glory of creation is in its infinite diversity.
SPOCK: And the ways our differences combine to create meaning and beauty.

He puts on his ridiculous visor once more and transports the doctor and ambassador down to the Medusan’s planet and their new future together.


Last week we were tortured by Gorgan and this week we meet a Medusan as Star Trek continues its indictment on beauty. The obvious theme is explicitly stated several times: “most of us are attracted by beauty and repelled by ugliness.” It’s interesting that despite their acknowledgment that this is one of the few remaining prejudices in Roddenberry’s perfect future, they can’t help succumbing to it anyway.

The beautiful Diana Muldaur is the perfect actress to expose this human weakness, returning to the series after portraying a different character in last season’s “Return to Tomorrow.” It’s clear that despite her attractiveness, she harbors ugly thoughts to which the men are blind. Though it’s fairly consistent with their established characters, the script exaggerates Kirk and McCoy’s attempts to charm or seduce the woman of the week, compounded by Larry’s obsession with her. I suspected the men were under some kind of spell or mind control, but alas, it was just an unfortunate lack of subtlety. Here we also see one of the dangers of love: loving too much. Jealousy guides Larry and Jones’s behavior through most of the episode.

There’s also a level of irony in this episode, when it turns out that Dr. Jones is blind, making her unable to appreciate beauty or recognize ugliness—in herself and in others. I initially forgot this major plot twist and the significance of her unusual wardrobe, but once I remembered it I appreciated Muldaur’s nuanced performance even more. She doesn’t quite make eye contact and carries herself differently from everyone else. The clues to her nature are also fairly well seeded and the reveal nearly surprised me for a second time.

This slight commentary on handicaps like blindness is understated but telling—even though she has heightened senses and fooled everyone, she is still limited by her blindness. Compare this to Star Trek: The Next Generation, where a blind person actually can navigate a starship, and later keeps it running as Chief Engineer. But it’s still commendable that Jones’s handicap is actually her strength, allowing her to relate to Kollos better than anyone. On top of that, she’s a telepath. (It isn’t discussed, but I wonder if her telepathic ability developed because she was blind, and whether she ever used it to help her “see” through other people’s minds.) Once again, I’m amazed that this personnel information isn’t a matter of record and the captain and crew don’t perform even rudimentary research on their guests.

“Is There in Truth No Beauty?” also serves as a welcome opportunity for Nimoy to demonstrate his exceptional talents as Kollos (complete with poetry and Shakespeare quotes, and a random soliloquy on language and loneliness) and a crazed version of Spock, and reveals more details about Vulcan culture and Spock’s personal life and ambitions. It’s too bad that most of it involves the IDIC pin and medallion that he wears, a revered Vulcan symbol that we hardly ever see. I don’t know if it would stick out like a sore thumb as much if I didn’t already know that it was a blatant attempt at merchandising. They never specifically explain that IDIC stands for “infinite diversity in infinite combinations,” a wonderful sentiment regardless of its reason for being.

In the end, this episode has an interesting story with good conflict and some surprising twists, hampered slightly by simplistic moralizing and contrived plot developments. To borrow from Chekov (Anton, not Pavel), if you see a Medusan on the transporter pad in the teaser, it will be used by the third act. In other words, if the Enterprise’s guest this week is a superb navigator, they’re probably going to need him to conveniently solve a problem for them by the end of the episode.

Eugene’s Rating: Warp 4 (on a scale of 1-6)

Torie Atkinson:Jordan (I)”, the George Herbert poem that gave this episode its lovely title, was not chosen by accident. It’s an indictment of cheesy pastoral poetry, yes, but it’s also a kind of ode to the ordinary: “Is all good structure in a winding stair?” Or is there beauty in a boring, functional set of steps? What makes the winding stair more beautiful, more worthy of poetry, than its humdrum counterpart? What makes it better? And would a winding stair mean anything at all to us if those ordinary steps didn’t exist as a contrast?

I don’t think the episode argues one way or another for beauty over the ordinary. Rather, I think it does an excellent job of showing how beauty and ugliness are inextricably connected. McCoy thinks he’s offering a compliment when he says, “How can one so beautiful condemn herself to look upon ugliness the rest of her life? Will we allow it, gentlemen?” But she sees the paradox of his assumption and calls him on it: “How can one so full of joy and the love of life as you, Doctor, condemn yourself to look upon disease and suffering for the rest of your life?” I really appreciate the way that the characters are allowed to be thoughtful here, yet it never feels artificial or pretentious. We must all, in our own way, choose to be happy. We can allow the things that are bad and terrible and frightening in the world to control us and determine the kinds of lives we lead, or we can accept that ugliness, pain, and suffering are as much a part of life as joy. That’s the dynamic and the trade-off of life. You must always have both, and they give each other meaning.

Dr. Miranda Jones is beautiful. She’s confident, intelligent, and a little mysterious, but who cares? She’s beautiful. That’s what people see when they look at her and that’s what she’ll never see when she looks into herself. Her world is full of data and discipline but it’s empty, lonely, and apart from everyone else. She can only feel what people truly are–can sense their thoughts, their motives and secrets. But she cannot see what they appear to be. She’s not charmed by a pleasing face or repulsed by an ugly alien. And irony of ironies, she’s blind to her own ugliness, her own dark thoughts and jealousy and hatred. Outward beauty comes with a price: something terrible and ugly within. Beauty and ugliness are different sides of the same coin and without each other they don’t mean anything, as they don’t to Dr. Jones.

And yet, this meditative and truly fascinating episode had enough blatant sexism to make me roll my eyes and say, “This again?” The way that Larry tries to persuade Dr. Jones to “try to be a woman” is just so cringey and struck me as more pandering and offensive than previous episodes with the same women-can’t-have-careers-and-still-be-women messages: “The Enterprise Incident” just a few weeks ago, “Metamorphosis,” “The Deadly Years,” etc. At least McCoy comes to her defense, if only briefly, when Kirk says that she strikes him as being vulnerable. McCoy quickly reminds him that “we’re all vulnerable in one way or another.” If only there had been a bit more pushback like that and a little bit less of her screaming randomly when she doesn’t get what she wants with regard to the mind meld. I mean, screaming? Is she a child? That still didn’t bother me as much as the dinner scene, in which every single man in the room flirts outrageously with her. I mean, have you ever seen a less receptive dinner date? And yet they press on. It’s vulgar.

Jealousy, at least, is equal opportunity, and I liked that Larry is the first to feel it. (Imagine if that subplot hadn’t been there and she had simply bolted into a jealous rage?) Larry is so desperate for her he’ll do anything, including ineptly attempt to kill the one being she seems closest to. (I nominate this for most boneheaded assassination attempt in Star Trek.) Her beauty clouds his judgment completely; he’s unable to think of anything else, obsessing over his planned murder throughout dinner. He doesn’t seem very interested in who she is as a person, beneath her appearance–in truth. The madness he succumbs to in the end isn’t all that different from the madness beauty inspired in him already: fear, desperation, loneliness. All he wants, in his insanity, is to be “safe.”

The power of the Medusan is simply the power of violent emotion. It’s humanness, distilled into its most evolved, most advanced form–violent, terrifying, and lonely. It’s jealousy. Dr. Jones says later in the arboretum that human companionship has always seemed to her to be a struggle: “Shall I tell you what human companionship means to me? A struggle, a defense against the emotions of others. At times, the emotions burst in on me. Hatred, desire, envy, pity. Pity is the worst of all. I agree with the Vulcans. Violent emotion is a kind of insanity.” Humans aren’t prepared to face the kinds of depths to their own souls that the Medusans represent. It’s their own ugliness, and that’s why they go insane.

Kirk notes that one of the “last prejudices” (last! how cute!) is that people are still attracted to beauty and repelled by ugliness. There’s an instinct, something human and innate and difficult to shake. Dr. Jones misses that experience entirely. In the teaser, after Spock communicates with the Medusan, she looks into the box and says, “What is it he sees when he looks at you? I must know!” Beauty, ugliness, plainness–they’re meaningless to her. There is only truth, only fact. As a result, she’s isolated. She cannot connect with people, and as she tells Larry, she cannot love people, either. This fosters jealousy and rage. She accuses Spock of envying her position, but it is she who envies his ability to truly see, and by extension, truly understand, the Medusan. Ultimately, it is her jealous rage that nearly kills Spock. She does not need the Medusan to go insane–her own violent emotions are just as capable of sending her off the brink.

The implicit (or explicit, I guess) lesson in all this is that humans have to accept the dark side of themselves in order to be complete. We’ve seen this before in “The Enemy Within.” It is not enough that one can be beautiful and harbor ugliness (as Dr. Jones does), but one must. You need both, in a way, to balance each other. She’s grateful in the end to have heard Kirk’s ugly words and says she can “see” now–see herself for who she is and grow from that. Her beauty is meaningless without ugliness. We meet the Medusan and the opposite is true: too hideous to behold, when he becomes Spock he speaks in verse and is thrilled beyond all emotion to feel such a new and different experience. I don’t know if he’s changed from the experience, but I like to imagine he has. (Props here to Nimoy for another great performance.)

The Medusans, despite their stupid name, are genuinely alien and their unique “ability” is entirely antithetical to human behavior–a great setup. The idea of accepting something so gruesome (allegedly) and attempting to coexist with it is preposterous to McCoy, but to Kirk and Spock there is always the possibility to learn and grow from one another. The Medusans are frightening in their power, but Kollos seems to be a swell enough guy and he sure has a lot to offer. This is the first time we hear of IDIC and even though it was a crass attempt to sell merchandise I love it all the same. What a beautiful motto. It should be the UN creed as far as I’m concerned. There is beauty (and ugliness) in diversity. There is everything and everyone, and in that way we all belong to each other.

Something that really surprised me: that the Vulcan abilities aren’t actually racial. I had thought Dr. Jones was a Vulcan hiding her ears very well, and it drove me crazy trying to understand why she could, after just a few years of study, master Vulcan discipline. The mind meld, the telepathy, and the ability to mind control (the way that Spock does in “The Omega Glory” and Dr. Jones seems to do here on the bridge to Spock) never really occurred to me as being achievable by men without centuries of devotion. I suspect she picks it up so easily because she’s blind, but that’s too cheap an explanation for my tastes.

Having never seen this episode before, Dr. Jones’ blindness stunned me. Diana Muldaur delivers a truly exceptional performance.  Her seeming coldness, which we feel through her expressionlessness, takes on a new meaning when you discover the truth about her. And yet she’s still confident, still commanding, still sure she can do anything. I wish the episode had given her the benefit of the doubt and let her try to command the starship, though. I don’t see why Spock needed the visible spectrum to plot that course, and their decision to have Kirk and McCoy publicly humiliate her by telling her she’s not capable was, frankly, kind of disgusting, and seemed to me to go against the inclusiveness and empowerment that is the whole point of the Federation. Because you know what blind/disabled people need to hear more of? That they can’t do it. Shame on you, Star Trek.

While I’m sorry they missed those opportunities to do something truly progressive, I can’t deny that this is one of the best written episodes in the series. I also can’t deny that it’s the worst directed (so far). The gimmicky fish-eye lenses and comically edited fight scenes cheapen the feel of the episode. There are no tableaux; the staging is uninspired. Senesky’s worst sin is pacing: long, monotonous shots of corridors and meetings feel static and boring. Their entire five-year mission could have happened in the course of this episode. What happened, Ralph? “This Side of Paradise” has so many beautifully laid out shots, but this looks like it was pieced together on short notice after a night of heavy drinking.

Which, now that I mention it, sounds like a pretty good plan for the eventual “Way to Eden” viewing.

Torie’s Rating: Warp 5

Best Line: JONES: “No doubt you think I can wake him with a kiss.”

Syndication Edits: None!

Trivia: This episode resulted from an unsolicited script discovered by co-producer Robert H. Justman. The original outline for the script involved Miranda Jones in a collaboration with Medusans code-named “Ariel.” In that version, Larry Marvick is much more dangerous, killing two of the crew and destroying communications in addition to taking Enterprise into the void, which only the Medusan could navigate. Spock’s mind link with the Medusan took hours, and to revive Spock, Dr. Jones makes him relive his memories of fighting Kirk in “Amok Time.”

Diana Muldaur was a late substitute for the original actress cast as Miranda Jones, Jessica Walter. Since she had already appeared in “Return to Tomorrow,” also directed by Ralph Senensky, they altered her appearance with a black wig.

The arboretum was built in the set for the Enterprise‘s recreation room. Kirk’s line calling it “Earth” suggests it may have been intended as a proto-holodeck, which he had been planning for the third season.

Kollos’ box was designed by Matt Jefferies, the art director and production designer who truly designed Enterprise.

The IDIC was included over the protest of cast and crew, including Shatner and Nimoy, because Gene Roddenberry wanted to sell a replica of it through his mail order company, Star Trek Enterprises (now Lincoln Enterprises).

Other notes: The episode title derives from line 2 of George Herbert’s poem “Jordan (I)”: ” Who says that fictions only and false hair/ Become a verse? Is there in truth no beauty?”

This was Eddie Paskey’s (Lt. Leslie and other incidental roles) last appearance in Star Trek.

David Frankham (Larry Marvick) also appeared in an episode of The Outer Limits titled “Don’t Open Until Doomsday,” in which he played another victim of an alien in a box that was dangerous to look at.

The animations for the interior of Kollos’ box and the inserted shots of it to represent Jones’ telepathic flashes were added in post-production without Senensky’s approval.

This episode makes use of special effects footage from “Where No Man Has Gone Before” and “The Cage” to show the ship accelerating out of the galaxy.

Previous episode: Season 3, Episode 4 –”And the Children Shall Lead.”

Next episode: Season 3, Episode 6 –”Spectre of the Gun.” US residents can watch it for free at the CBS website.

Enterprise is on routine taxi duty, escorting a less-than-routine diplomat back to his homeworld: Ambassador Kollos is a Medusan, “a race of beings who are formless, so utterly hideous” that just looking at one will drive the beholder mad. But on the up side, they’re very intelligent and have wonderful personalities.

About Eugene Myers & Torie Atkinson

EUGENE MYERS has published short fiction in a variety of print and online zines as E.C. Myers. He is a graduate of the Clarion West Writers Workshop and a member of the writing group Altered Fluid. When he isn’t watching Star Trek, he reads and writes young fiction. His first novel, Fair Coin, is forthcoming from Pyr. TORIE ATKINSON is a NYC-based law student (with a focus on civil rights and economic justice), proofreader, sometime lighting designer, and former blog editor/moderator. She watches too many movies and plays too many games but never, ever reads enough books.