There is a wonderful irony in the fact that just this book has been published at just this time. In the last three months there has been a great deal of news about the willful and savage destruction of Buddhist art in Afghanistan by the so-called Taliban. Colossal statues carved from living rock (one of them being the largest stone statue then existing in the world) were deliberately blown to smithereens to satisfy some sort of incomprehensible politico-religious bloodlust. The colossal statues stood in the Bamiyan valley. Their atoms are now indistinquishable from the other trillion grains of sand scattered about the foot of the Hindu Kush.

But now, just as one starts to comprehend the staggering degree to which all mankind has been impoverished by these heinous acts, Richard Salomon and his colleagues at the University of Washington and the British Museum offer back to the world something else nearly lost but now recovered -- and by doing so they manage to rekindle at least a little of one's faith in the fundamental decency of mankind. A mere one hundred miles east (and slightly south) of Bamiyan and the now-vaporized collosal statues was found a cache of Buddhist literature written on birch-bark scrolls dating from the first century A.D. They are said to be "the oldest Buddhist texts ever found, as well as the earliest surviving manuscripts in any Indic Language."

There could hardly be any writing material more perishable than birch bark, and these manuscripts were crumpled up and stuffed into earthen jars in a way hardly conducive to their survival. They were acquired by the British Library in 1994. Had they not been, one can easily imagine the maniacal thrill the Taliban would have derived from destroying them along with all the other "unacceptable" art they stumbled upon.

Though on the surface, fragile, crumbling manuscripts and colossal statues cannot be directly equated, I think the apparent difference in size and vulnerability between the two actually makes this story more intriguing. Logically, the statues should have survived but did not; the far-older manuscripts, which have been steadily disintegrating for two thousand years, did! For once it was not the giant statue that got to exclaim, "Look around, ye Mighty, and despair!"

True, by the time Saloman and his colleagues got hold of these manuscripts and began to unroll them, they faced the mother of all jigsaw puzzles, and some pieces were gone forever. The team has now spent years fitting them all back together, devising scholarly restorations of the lost portions of text were possible, and making a comprehensible translation of what emerged.

The present book is intended to be an exhaustive, definitive restoration and translation of only one small component of the total manuscript cache. Indeed the reconstructed manuscript translated here is a bare 44.4 cm by 27 cm in size, and contains only forty four-line verses. In contrast to its physical size, however, is the text's enormous pupularity within Buddhist literature. It is known to have survived in at least two other Indian language versions, Pali and Sanskrit. It is unquestionably one of the loveliest and most evocative statements of the Buddha's teaching about solitute and the role he expects solitute to play in the practice and spiritual growth of his followers. Thoreau, who had a great affinity for Indian literature, would have loved it -- as does nearly everyone else fortunate enough to encounter a sensitive translation.

Saolomon's translation of this elegant sutra is reassuringly familiar to those students of Buddhism who already know an earlier version of it. Though there are minor variations and differences, one's confidence in the reliability of all other received Indian texts (which have been translated and recopied endlessly over the years) is greatly reinforced. Together with the other texts found with it, this cache also helps one get a fix on what literature was apparently regarded as important to literate Buddhists two millennia ago, and just what traditional writings were by then finding their way out of India and onto the historical road to central Asia and beyond. Judging by the quality of this select library, Ghandara, already known to be a flourishing center of Buddhist art, must also have been the site of much very advanced Buddhist teaching, writing, etc.

Make no mistake, this book is devoted largely to scholarly issues, and the bulk of it will be of interest primarily to scholars. However it is also a fresh look at a significant segment of Buddhist literature, derived from the earliest source the world is ever likely to recover. The scholarly preoccupations (paleography, orthography, phonology, morphology, etc.) are informative, but the sutra itself is the real payoff for those whose zeal encompasses merely a serious interest in Buddhism. The thrilled reader stands awestruck by this miraculous feat of ressurection and restoration, and he eagerly awaits publication of the other associated texts, many less well known. When complete, this triumph of Buddhist scholarship may well appear to the intellectual world to assume the proportions of the most colossal of all sculptures, and could have a far deeper impact on our minds and lives.

Aha! I'm always looking for a bargain, and The World of Buddhism is probably as close as I have come. True to the cliche that books cannot be judged by their covers, this large, handsomely produced volume actually delivers more than one expects -- and in many more ways. Miraculously, its cost is significantly less than its ample size and elegant format could probably justify.

I was first attracted to World of Buddhism's many striking pictures and detailed drawings, maps and illustrations. They turn out to have been chosen with exceptional care and sensitivity to the subject, not simply to entertain the casual browser. Some of the resulting images are stunning, greatly enhance the text, and make a powerful impression on the eye, the mind and the spirit.

I also happen to be deeply interested in Buddhism and everything about it. This book has proven to be nearly encyclopedic in scope, pays due heed to all sorts of different schools, sects, denominations and traditions within Buddhism, and can basically be relied on as a comparatively comprehensive survey of the topic. I frequently consult its index and glossary.

Best of all, though books which purport to survey such a broad range of ideas -- and especially those with such sensational illustrations -- sometimes contain only superficial, inaccurate or misleading texts, this is totally untrue of World of Buddhism. Its panel of contributors consists of outstanding scholars and Buddhologists from all over the world. Indeed some of them (in particular Richard Gombrich and Etienne Lamotte) are (or have been) among the foremost authorities in the field. Fortunately all of them manage to write interesting, engaging prose, though it often covers relatively complex technical topics, and is sometimes intricately detailed. Though not necessarily for the specialist, this book is certainly one to be considered by those who may be fairly new to the subject and want an introduction, or even by someone reasonably conversant with Buddhism but in search of new ideas and insights.

Naturally, as the Buddha himself never tired of pointing out, nothing is perfect. There are some limitations, even to a book as satisfying as this one. Thus be aware that its scope and focus is less adequately conveyed by its title, "The World of Buddhism," than by its subtitle, "Buddhist Monks and Nuns in Society and Culture." The reader must accept going in that this book pays foremost attention to the Sangha, which is to say the formally structured Buddhist clergy. There are many reasons for this, including the extraordinary longevity of this unique institution, plus its inherent interest and fascination. However probably the most important reason is that, as Bechert explains, "It is primarily the Sangha that has transmitted the Buddha's words and maintained the tradition of meditation and thus ensured that future generations ... can be shown the way to release from the world." In any event I find that this focus in no way seems constricting, and that in practice it often facilitates the reader's making many useful conparisons between widely varying historical periods, countries and kinds of Buddhism.

Finally, as much as I like and respect this book, I think it is only fair to point out that, in several significant ways, it is rather dated. It was, after all, first published in 1984 (though again this may not have terribly great relevance to the general reader). Buddhism is ancient and has always done its best to resist change -- but most of the good scholarly research concerning it is of fairly recent vintage, with some of the most dramatic findings having come to light only within the last ten or twelve years. The specialist is aware that people such as Gregory Schopen have, in just this last decade, added brilliantly to our understanding of Buddhist origins and early practices, and certainly the nature of Buddhist monasticism. However little or none of that modern work is reviewed or cited in the present book, apparently because it was unavailable at the time it was being compiled. It goes without saying that the concluding chapter entitled "Buddhist revival in East and West," while interesting and informative, reports details and trends which at this point are no longer quite accurate nor reflective of what is actually going on with Buddhism throughout the world today.

It is also my impression that, for some reason, the authors occasionally gravitate unnecessarily towards older sources, translations, etc., even when fresher material was available. Thus, when dealing with ancient India, Gombrich chooses to quote lengthy passages from the famous and beautiful Dhammapada and the Sutta-Nipata, but selects some of the earliest English translations (dating to 1881), which not only sound archaic, but had already been superceded by more recent and far more definitive translations by the time the present book was being put together. Similarly, World of Buddhism's annotated bibliography, while both extensive and useful, omits many recent, highly relevant works.

Compelled to describe both the strengths and weaknesses of this valuable book, I hasten in closing to predict that most readers will eagerly relish it for all that it is, and readily forgive it for what little it is not. One of its lesser, but very real, charms is that its many picutures present a fairly unique selection of good Buddhist art and architecture, making them the sort of place you want your mind to wander through, over and over again, on quiet, contemplative afternoons.

I love Buddhism and I adore reading books about it. Still, when I look at the endless list of books currently in print, old and new, addressed to Buddhist topics, I cannot help but think there may finally be too many of them! Can there really be a market for books devoted to such questions as What if the Buddha Dated? Or to Buddhism and Bears? Goodness.

I am particularly puzzled by this mountain of books because I know that, buried deep within it, is the real bedrock of Buddhism, the ancient Sutta Pitaka, of which the Majjhima Nikaya (or Middle Length Discourses) is the second volume. Why doesn't this bedrock generate as much popular enthusiasm as that readily inspired by the less significant edifices merely erected upon it? Derived from orally transmitted texts, the Sutta Pitaka is virtually as old as the Buddha himself, and is presumed by many (though of course not all) to preserve the oldest and most authentic account of his teaching, his personality and his life. Nearly everything else we are familiar with in Buddhism springs from it. Though one might have to detour around rather a lot of unrelated material in it to find the Buddha's ideas specifically regarding dating or bears, I believe it is probably all there, neatly fitted into only a few powerfully poetic volumes.

And thanks to the brilliant scholarship and profound comprehension of Buddhism possessed by many modern translators (for the Majjhima they are are Nanamoli and Bodhi), these have become thoroughly readable, easily accessible works. They teem with the sights, sounds and reality of Buddha's everyday world and the issues which concerned him most. The Sutta Pitaka is peopled by his friends and enemies, and enlivened by his ideas, his frustrations and his triumphs.

I think this translation of the Majjhima lacks the warmth, charm and wit which Walshe achieved in translating the preceding volume, the Digha Nikaya (or Long Discourses). However this Majjhima is second to none in authority, scholarship and elegance of translation. Nanamoli (British by birth and education) is reputed to be among the most creative and innovative scholars ever to translate Pali literature into English, and this is one of his finest efforts. It also profits from the collaborative effort of Bikkhu Bodhi (originally an American) who has long been at the forefront of making Pali texts accessible to English-speaking readers.

Wisdom Publications, which claims to publish works from all major Buddhist tradtions (but which in reality seems totally mesmerized by anything Tibetan or Tantric) deserves much credit for going far enough afield to print both the Digha and Majjhima Nikayas, and for having in press even now a long-awaited new translation by Bodhi of the Samyutta Nikaya, the third volume of the Sutta Pitaka.

As much as I admire these books, it is only fair to caution the reader that, though the text is always readable and interesting, there is a quality peculiar to both the Majjhima and the Digha Nikayas which probably results from their having existed for centuries before being committed to paper: some sections are spelled out in elaborate detail, whereas other ideas and concepts are presented in a very condensed, almost shorthand way, as though the reader is expected to have grown up knowing many fundamental and basic ideas ahead of time. However, fear not. The translators of both volumes provide comprehensive, highly informative introductions and thorough, helpful footnotes. The result is to educate the reader as-you-go in many of the most vital Buddhist notions, and with a minimum of inconvenience or confusion.

In closing, let me change my mind about something I said earlier. I guess there can't be too many books about Buddhism. Perhaps the problem is simply that many of the people curious about it are being tempted to jump in at the wrong place. They are being deluged with secondary works, without being advised to ground themselves in the real thing -- the Sutta Pitaka -- first. So my suggestion is to buy and read this version of the Majjhima Nikaya (and Walshe's earlier version of the Digha Nikaya) and then go on to the fun stuff. It will feel a lot like mastering a conventional clutch before trying out an automatic transmission for the first time.

We live in an age inured to change and intoxicated with novelty. Evidence of the past is carelessly tossed away all around us, and few make any effort to dredge it back up later.

Thus it is fascinating -- and curiously reassuring -- when anyone stumbles on some long-lost relic or other, and manages to extract from it a few precious clues regarding what man may once have been or where he may have come from. T.V. has bored most of us stiff with endlessly repeated news about King Tut and his celebrated tomb. Obviously some must still be convinced that the barely preserved corpse and outrageously overstuffed grave of an ancient youngster -- however marginal historically -- can still yield valuable information of some kind.

Considered for a brief time at least somewhat newsworthy was the recent announcement that a cache of birch-bark manuscripts containing ancient Buddhist texts was discovered (though no one seems to know exactly where, when or how). The news media is no longer much interested in the find, but scholars certainly continue to be -- and for reasons at least as compelling as those which attract us to Tut and his excess of playthings.

These manuscripts are believed to be the oldest Buddhist documents in existence, and perhaps the earliest Indian Documents as well. I am in no position to appreciate the significance of this for the study of Indian history or literature. However there can be little doubt that the find is extremely important to an understanding of what Buddhism may once have been -- and how it became what we now think it is.

Don't hold your breath waiting to find out about these manuscripts from a T.V. special, as you did perhaps with the Shroud of Turin or the Dead Sea Scrolls. The manuscripts are too dilapidated to show up well in color, and it is easier to make out the freckles on King Tut's mummified visage than the archaic writing on some of these two-thousand-year-old documents.

But the scholarly promise of the Gandharan Texts is potentially immense, and in its way every bit as profound as the richest tomb ever excavated. Therefore Richard Salomon's elegant book, Ancient Buddhist Scrolls from Gandhara, is well worth consideration.

Saloman, a scholar of immensely lofty standards, still manages to produce a book whose narrative is readable and informative, and whose pictures are interesting (if, to a layperson, somewhat redundant). Naturally it is the ancient texts themselves which fascinate, and this book is intended only to introduce their probable history and document the process of their translation. Therefore only tantalizing excerpts from them are included in it. Susequent volumes willl present their contents more fully.

Many readers will approach this book searching only for the sights, smells and textures of so-called original Buddhism, hoping that this early source might have survived unpolluted by the later political, cultural or doctrinal prejudices characterizing modern Buddhism. Inevitably, others will be looking for evidence to resolve long-standing questions regarding doctrinal superiority or primacy of one school or denomination over another.

Though the texts are quite beautiful and possess ample literary and spiritual merit independent of any denominational puzzles on which they may shed light, the doctrinaire reader is not likely to be disappointed. I find Solomon to have a slight anti-Theravadan bias. However he still concedes,

Although it would be premature at this point to draw detailed conclusions about the doctrinal positions of the tradition represented by the [birch-bark] fragments, it is worth mentioning that the preliminary studies carried out to date reveal no clear traces of Mahayana ideas or tendencies...Of course, closer analyses of individual texts...might bring to light material that would require modification of this statement, but on the whole it appears that the manuscripts come from a time and place in which Mahayana ideas had not come into play at all, or at least were not being reflected in scholastic texts...[F]urther analysis and possible future discoveries could well change the picture, but as matters stand at this point, the[se]...scrolls do not offer any support for the hypothesis of a relatively early origin for Mahayana Buddhism.

For many of us, observations of this sort alone are more than worth the price of Solomon's book. However be assured that it also contains an abundance of valuable and intriguing information about early Buddhism and Indian history and society in general. The texts which it reports and details are also likely to furnish us the most objective insight we will ever get into the nature and sociology of the place and time in which Buddhism was conceived and first flourished.

Superlatives alone serve to describe this great achievement of scholarship, translation and dedication to fundamental Buddhism. Walshe was not only a master of languages but a practicing Buddhist -- and it certainly shows. This particular product of his knowledge and his faith is one of the most inspiring and elucidating volumes of Buddhist text available to the English-speaking reader.

I will leave it to others to describe the wonderful prose into which Walshe turns the complexities of the Pali language, and the clarity with which he manages to capture in readable English the most arcane Buddhist concepts. I prefer instead to recommend this book because of my own favorite part: The dozens of witty, insightful notes and asides which Walshe buries throughout, waiting for the reader to stumble upon them and have them explode like intellectual land-mines, bursting with clarity, erudition -- and gentle humor.

I find myself turning to this book all the time simply to consult its remarkable introduction and ample appendices. Walshe is consistently the most accurate and reliable source of basic information about tbe Buddha, Buddhism, the Pali language and Pali literature I have encountered. In my awe at his ability to teach, I can only assume that Walshe took as his model the Buddha himself. Deprived of the opportunity to have had first-hand contact as a student of either one, I content myself with the belief that Walshe's book represents the second-best chance to study at the feet of both.