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A Photographic Glance at Green Key

The Glee Clubs performs in a past Green Key.The Green Key Society gathers to celebrate the weekend in 1926.Pea-green freshmen offer info about Green Key traditions.A student band plays, a tradition that has persisted for decades.Phi Delt’s block party, another longstanding tradition.A student greets a date at the White River Junction station.Alpha Delta’s annual lawn party. , anyone?

https://dartreview.com/a-photographic-glance-at-green-key/

The Storied History of Green Key

The Dartmouth Review The Review The Wall Street JournalIn a 1951 column in , Bill Cunningham of the Class of 1920 wrote: “It may come as a surprise to modern prom hoppers that [the original] Green Key Weekend had nothing to do with their sort of business. Instead of soft lights, hot music, and gentle dabbles in romance, it came straight out of the he-man’s world of blood, sweat, and leather.”The origins of the modern Green Key celebration can be traced to 1899. The Class of 1900 put together House Parties Weekend, a four-day celebration at the end of May that featured sporting events and parties and culminated in a Junior Prom on Saturday night. During the Weekend, the upperclassmen invited dates from nearby colleges. These dates’ names were printed in the on the following Monday.Over the weekend, the women would reside in the fraternity houses while the brothers found lodging elsewhere. The administration required each house to hire chaperones to guard against lewd and lascivious behavior. Thus began the tradition of “Sneaks,” whereby Dartmouth men would try to slip past the schoolmarms and matrons guarding the upstairs in small hours of the morning. The most enterprising would often employ creative measures to sneak to the upper levels of the houses to rendezvous with their best gals. During House Parties Weekend, the freshmen were not allowed to participate in the festivities and were barricaded inside the dining hall. Clearly, the freshmen took the brunt of the abuse at the College in those days. Famously, they were required to wear freshman caps, floppy beanies that Clifford B. Orr ’22, in a memoir of his freshman year, described as “absolutely [of] the brightest green … you can imagine. They [were] the same color [of] green as cerise is of red.” House Parties Weekend, the embryonic Green Key, marked the first weekend that the freshmen were allowed to remove their caps in public—although not before a considerable ordeal. The week leading up to House Parties Weekend was known as “running season,” when every freshman was required to run out of sight when ordered to do so by an upperclassman. Orr recalled that the campus was “covered by bobbing green caps of disappearing freshmen.” They were also required to rouse the sophomores in the mornings and to run errands for the seniors during the afternoons.The “freshman photograph” for was always staged in the days leading up to the weekend, and the sophomore class traditionally took it upon itself to kidnap as many of the freshmen as possible so as to disrupt the photo’s taking. Marauding bands of sophomores would prowl about campus, brandishing clubs and the butt-ends of revolvers, in search of prey. When a first-year was spotted, they would give chase and seize him; captured freshmen were tossed into the cellar of the ramshackle Phi Sigma Kappa barn. In Orr’s experience: “Sixty captives were there, tied hand and foot, and strewn on the floor. We were thrown down among them, and you can believe that we passed a wretched night, with the cold winds howling through the shattered windows, and shrieking through the cracks along the damp floor.” Orr went on to describe his harrowing escape and grueling trek back to campus. He thought, “it has surely been a grand and exciting time … and if the whole class doesn’t come down with typhoid fever from drinking streams … we shall consider ourselves lucky. Thank Heaven, though, it’s over.” Of course, it wasn’t. At sun-down, a bugle would sound and all four classes would gather at the Senior Fence. Led by the band, they would assemble into columns (the freshmen last) and march up the College Hill to the Old Pine, where elite juniors would be inducted into the Palaeopitus senior society. A parade across campus would follow, which terminated at the center of the Green, where a huge keg was waiting. In the days of Daniel Webster, the cask was filled with old New England rum; in later days, it was filled only with lemonade. Palaeopitus would advance and drink, followed by the seniors, then the juniors. By this point, the fluid would be running low, and the Rush would begin. At the crack of a pistol the sophomore and freshman classes, laying in wait on opposite sides of the Green, would charge towards the keg and attempt to pull it back towards their respective sides. Pandemonium would always ensue, and several freshmen usually ended up unconscious.Orr remembered: “If you have never been in a [R]ush, you do not know the feeling of endless pushing, panting, struggling, slipping, fearing every moment that you will be the next to disappear under the feet of … mad youths and be trampled.” Before the Prom, a final tradition would take place—the Gauntlet. The upperclassmen would line up diagonally across the Green. The freshmen would run between them while being beaten and flogged with sticks and the sting of belt leather. (Serious injuries would often result from seniors turning their belts around and whipping with the buckles). Still, the freshmen took the Gauntlet in good spirits. For Orr’s class, “nothing very serious happened”—just “gashed and bleeding faces” and “two arms out of joint and a broken collarbone, nothing more.” Finally, the festivities ended with the ceremonial burning of the freshman caps.Of course, the upperclassmen continued to revel at the Green Key Prom all the while. The tradition continued until 1924 when the faculty and administration decided to cancel it because of “alleged misconduct and rather wild behavior in the previous years.” It is generally believed that the ban on the Prom resulted from an incident involving Lulu McWoosh, a visiting woman who rode around the Green on a bicycle bereft of the traditional prom attire, or any other attire, after copious drinking. While students, no doubt, enjoyed the scene, the administration was not amused. The Junior Prom did not return to Dartmouth for another five years. There is no indication that anything else filled the void during the heart of the Roaring Twenties, but, during this time, unrelated events transpired which would allow for the return of this festive May weekend. In 1921, the Dartmouth football team left for Seattle to play the University of Washington. The Dartmouth team was greeted at the station by uniformed Washington students who took charge of baggage, bought refreshments, and served as guides. Until then, it had been a tradition of Dartmouth students to view visiting athletic teams with hostility. The warm welcome in Washington inspired the formation of a similar organization at Dartmouth, and, on May 16, 1921, “the Green Key” was born as a sophomore honor society. The society underwent dramatic structural revision over the next few years, both in terms of the way it selected its members and in its function. Initially, it had three aims: entertaining representatives of other institutions; acting as a freshman rule-enforcement committee; and selecting from its ranks the head cheerleader and the head usher of the College. Only the first of these aims remains today. About two years after its inception, the society voted to turn its “vigilante function”—forcing freshmen to wear their caps—over to the sophomores at large. In time, the function of selecting the head usher and cheerleader was turned over to various College departments. In 1927, at the faculty’s request, society members wore their uniforms of white trousers, green sweaters, and green caps with the key emblem during freshman week to help clueless frosh find their way around the College. Also, to meet the expenses of entertaining visiting teams, the society sponsored an annual fundraiser. In 1929, this became the Green Key Spring Prom. The party had returned. The administration felt that the weekend would be better organized and take on an air of civility if the Green Key Society oversaw the activities. In 1931, the College banned fraternity house parties because of frequent occurrences of what it called “disorderly conduct.” At one point, President Hopkins threatened to ban Green Key festivities, writing in a letter to Inter-Fraternity Council president Albert Bidney ’35 that “the Green Key Promenade cannot be held unless definite assurances can be made that propriety will attend it.” Still, Green Key weekend took on epic proportions. It became the font from which Dartmouth alums drew their most fantastic stories of life at Dartmouth. and carried accounts of the weekend and published a guest list of the largest yearly party in the Ivy League. The list was no small undertaking, considering that thousands of women from all over the Northeast made the pilgrimage to Dartmouth. The fraternities took on the enviable task of housing this flood of eager women. The Green Key Ball was forcibly brought to an end in 1967 after rioting broke out.Drinking, then as now, was always an integral part of the festivities. Green Key provided the occasion for one of Judson Hale’s most famous anecdotes. Hale was a member of the Class of 1955 and the storied editor of ; he was expelled from the College after vomiting Whiskey Sours on Dean Joseph McDonald and his wife during a performance of the “Hums.” Hums, according to Orr, was a “Dartmouth tradition, old as the College, I guess.” Each fraternity would compose a tune and perform it for the College at large, to be judged by the music department and other administrators. Hums became a bone of contention as the years passed by and the songs became racier and filthier. The administration gradually became less and less tolerant of these amusing tunes and eventually began censoring them once the College went co-ed. In 1979, “Real Hums,” sponsored by the Inter-Fraternity Council, was introduced, free from the College’s red pen. Real Hums caught on for a while and was even reported once by magazine to be the best party of the year. Eventually, though, the tradition fell by the wayside. Gradually, the Gauntlet, too—for whatever reasons—faded away, though the ingrained traditions of ritualized beatings proved harder to stamp out. During the “Wetdowns,” newly elected student-government representatives would be pelted with vegetables, food, and debris as they ran across the Green. During the 1960s, a tradition of chariot racing took root. The fraternities would construct unsteady and unbalanced chariots, which new and intoxicated pledges would haul around a track on the Green while being assailed by eggs, condiments, flour, rotting vegetables, sacks of potatoes, beer cans, and other rubbish. The race ended when all the chariots were demolished. Eventually the administration forced the races off the Green and to a large field near the river. When the event finally became too violent near the end of the eighties, the chariot races came grinding to a halt.Green Key has traditionally had no theme—it has long been simply a holiday weekend at the College for no reason. Only once in its illustrious history has it had a theme, and it was an unmitigated disaster. At the behest of Director of Student Activities Linda Kennedy, the College officially dubbed Green Key “Helldorado” in 1994. The tag honored the “Swinging Steaks,” a band the Programming Board had hired to play in the center of the Green. Students could also enjoy a petting zoo, a magician, a human gyroscope, and a moon-bounce. Needless to say, there was no theme the following year. Today, though the most outlandish and violent traditions of Green Key have faded into obscurity, the spirit of the weekend lives on. Though the weekend is devoted to little more than revelry, partying, and hanging out, it has been reinvigorated over the past few years. The idea of Green Key has evolved into a celebration of spring for the campus—a great excuse for students and alums alike to enjoy both the fair weather and smooth beers. A staple of Green Key since the early nineties, despite a short interruption in the early 2000s, Phi Delta Alpha’s Block Party on Friday enlivens Webster Ave and sets the pace for the weekend’s festivities. Alpha Delta’s Lawn Party provides in that same strain an opportunity for daylight inebriation, despite the best efforts of Hanover’s finest. As Clifford Orr wrote in May 1918, “[t]hese are happy days. The evenings are so warm and so perfectly delightful that we do our best to get our studying done in the afternoons that we might [fraternize] well before dark.” 

https://dartreview.com/the-storied-history-of-green-key/

Winter Carnival: Stories and Images

In 1910, skiing had not yet emerged as a common form of winter recreation. At Dartmouth, Fred Harris ’11 and his friend A.T. Cobb ’12 were among the few students who participated in the sport. Harris, as president of the newly formed Dartmouth Outing Club, had an interest in promoting skiing and winter sports, so he undertook the organization of a weekend devoted to those activities. Harris wrote a letter to outlining his proposal to Dartmouth’s community. Shortly thereafter, the newspaper published an editorial calling for an event that could act as the “culmination of the season.” The weekend, read the editorial, would “undoubtedly be a feature of College activity which from its novelty alone, if for no other reason, would prove attractive. It is not impossible that Dartmouth, in initiating this movement, is setting an example that will later find devotees among other New England and northern colleges.”The initial “field day” proved to be a huge success, popular with students, faculty, and local townspeople. The events of the first weekend, in which students from other schools participated, included ski racing, ski jumping, and snowshoe racing. Harris was a hands-down favorite to sweep the events, but a knee injury sustained during practice—coupled with the distraction of a fire in his dormitory, South Fayerweather Hall—detracted from his performance. Cobb emerged victorious in every skiing event.Encouraged by the popularity of the winter sports weekend, students began to lay out plans for the first Winter Carnival in 1911. Such an event, they reasoned, would benefit from a female presence. Said : “It is up to every man with a purse or a heart, or with a bit of enthusiasm for a good time when it heaves in sight, to make haste to procure that most necessary item.” Dartmouth students heeded the advice, and the first band of Winter Carnival dates consisted of fifty visitors from Smith, Mount Holyoke, Wellesley, and other nearby women’s colleges. A 1939 Winter Carnival article blasted: “Hanover is set back on its collective heels as girls, girls, girls pour in.”The new social aspect of the weekend, which consisted of a dance and some theater, was welcomed by all involved, but athletics remained paramount in the celebration. Once again, Harris and Cobb dominated the events, with the latter retaining most of the crowns won the previous year. The ski jump was the biggest thrill for many spectators, who had never seen or experienced such a thing.The Outing Club Ball, which followed the sporting events, signaled that the weekend was more than a field day. For Dartmouth students, Winter Carnival became an instant tradition. “The Winter Carnival of the Outing Club won a deserved success, and will undoubtedly remain a permanent feature of Hanover winter life,” wrote h. “This is how it should be. Winter is the characteristic Hanover season, winter weather is Hanover’s finest weather, and winter sports should be, and are coming to be, the characteristic sports of the Dartmouth undergraduate.”Before long, the Dartmouth Winter Carnival developed into the most celebrated college weekend in the nation. In 1919, devoted a feature article to the “Mardi Gras of the North.” The number of activities increased, coming to feature such eclectic events as “skijoring,” and so did the number of visitors to Hanover. Dances held by Dartmouth fraternities became a highlight of the weekend—which, of course, required a significant number of female guests. Trains would make their way north from New York and Boston, making stops at Northampton, Springfield, Holyoke, and Greenfield to pick up female passengers on their way to White River Junction, where expectant Dartmouth men would greet them with cheers of jubilee.The scenario is singularly detailed in the film , a fictional account of the 1939 celebration. The storyline follows the somewhat corny romance between a Dartmouth professor and his old flame, a divorced duchess who had held the crown of Winter Carnival Queen in her younger days. Among the amusing subplots is a situation at the campus daily, where the incoming editor decides to change the paper to a tabloid called the . Its headline: “Smooth Babes Invade Campus.” An entertaining look at Winter Carnivals of old, the movie shows not only students meeting their dates at the train station but also footage of athletic events and black-tie dances at fraternities.’s producer, Walter Wanger ’15, enlisted Budd Schulberg ’36 and author F. Scott Fitzgerald to write the screenplay. When the duo arrived in Hanover to write the story, Fitzgerald drank so heavily that he was fired from the project. Despite Fitzgerald’s absence, the film’s storyline perhaps shows a bit of his influence: at the black-tie fraternity dance, the dejected college professor drowns his sorrows in double scotches. was named “one of the five objectionable pictures of 1939” by the Catholic Legion of Decency, a distinction shared by and . It’s a must-see for every Dartmouth student.One tradition that emerged fairly early in Carnival history was the crowning of the Winter Carnival Queen. The tradition, possibly, was inevitable, since a highlight of Winter Carnival was of course the presence of women on the normally all-male campus. Remarked one former president of the Dartmouth Outing Club, “Dartmouth likes lots of company over Carnival weekend, especially if it is cute and wears skirts.”The tradition of the Winter Carnival Queen began in 1923, when the young Mary Warren was honored and adorned in garb from the Russian Royal Court. The criteria for Carnival Queen were changed in 1928 so that the Queen would be selected in line with the Carnival’s outdoor theme. The editors of encouraged the choice of “the most charming girl in winter sports costume for the Queen of Snows.”The competition for the title of Winter Carnival Queen continued for forty-nine years until, in 1973, the Carnival Committee decided to eliminate the tradition. Said George Ritcheske, the committee chairman, “Prevailing attitudes indicate that contests which stress beauty as their primary or only criterion no longer have the widespread popularity they once enjoyed.”When Fred Harris first conceived of a weekend winter celebration, the goal was to encourage participation in winter sports. At the first Winter Carnival, skiing was still a fledgling sport, and few competitors could be found to participate. Today, in tandem with the growing popularity of the sports, the Carnival events have been updated. In 1910 skiers raced in the “100-yard dash.” Today they race in the giant slalom.Other events, such as the once-popular snowshoe races, were replaced. Psi Upsilon’s keg-jumping contest was for almost two decades one of the weekend’s more lively events, before it was canceled for insurance and liability reasons. The “Polar Bear Swim” at Occom Pond has also become a mainstay. Since the Carnival’s inception, sporting events have remained at the heart of the weekend, although many students now focus more on the parties.In 1939, a thirty-seven-foot snow statue of Eleazar Wheelock “toasted visitors with a fifteen gallon mug.” Visitors to Dartmouth will appear again this year for Winter Carnival, but they won’t be regarded as the saviors of the social scene, as they once were. Dormitories, surely, are no longer vacated to make room for trainloads of female guests. Nor is the Hanover Inn cleared out and turned into a women’s residence. Today, because of increased College oversight of the fraternities and sororities, much of Dartmouth’s past hospitality is no longer possible, and visitors are regularly turned away.In 1998, the Carnival turned ugly. In the wake of President Wright’s and the trustees’ first salvo against the Greek system with the announcement of the Student Life Initiative, the Co-ed, Fraternity, and Sorority Council canceled all Carnival celebrations. “I haven’t been invited to many fraternity parties this weekend,” President Wright announced at the opening ceremonies, “but I still plan on having a good time.” Students booed Wright and the next day held a rally at Psi Upsilon fraternity. “President Wright’s announcement on Wednesday embodies how not to run a college,” said Psi U president Teddy Rice. “This cannot be over. And if it is, then I’m going to go down fighting.”Recent years’ debates over Dartmouth’s community life have found less proactive, and more litigious, expression. Traditions like the Psi U keg jump have been shut down, and their return seems unlikely as the regulations that govern student life grow stricter every year. “There was nothing like it almost anywhere,” Budd Schulberg told the of Winter Carnival in its earlier years. “There was a sexual revolution going on. And for the girls—as we called them then—it was a big honor to be invited. There was enormous excitement in the air. It was romantic, really, in an old-fashioned sense. It’s still what you’d call a party, but it’s nothing like it was back then.”Several years ago, Dartmouth suffered the clumsiness of a Carnival Committee that, after choosing Calvin and Hobbes as the Carnival’s mascots, insisted that an alternative theme be chosen—despite the comic’s author’s insistence that the use of “Calvin and Hobbes” was okay. The committee eventually settled upon some hybrid that left the student body scratching its collective head. Then came the snow sculpture, both sad and small in comparison to its ancestors. The fate of unimpressive sculptures has seemed to be omnipresent in recent years. While no one can be held responsible for the lack of snow that has led to smaller sculptures constructed out of imported and purchased snow, it nonetheless leaves a gaping hole in the Dartmouth experience for those current generations of Dartmouth students who have yet to witness the spectacular works that once marked this event.Though the Carnival is not what it once was—and what is these days?—students this year will again reclaim College traditions and hark back to the days of old. Winter Carnival remains a celebration of the outdoors, of life, and of Dartmouth.TheReview

https://dartreview.com/winter-carnival-stories-and-images/

Fraternity and Sorority Profiles

The Dartmouth Review (This piece is periodically updated. The version seen below was published under the title “The Greeks Shall Inherit the Earth” in s September 13, 2023 print issue.)Despite their high GPAs and “impressive” participation in many face-timey organizations, Alpha Chis are truly identifiable by their concerningly obvious desperation to be A-side. They are also known for their annual day party “Pig Stick” in the spring. The name refers to the entire pig that the brothers roast and serve to partygoers. The house itself appears to be a more appropriate place for livestock than for frat bros, given its classic A-frame barn structure; however, the house’s backyard boasts a beach volleyball court rather than a pasture. The brothers of Alpha Chi can be identified on campus by their red lifeguard jerseys that sport their fraternity’s letters, although the last time we checked, their scenes were still dead. Alpha Phi Alpha was founded as the first historically black fraternity at Dartmouth College in 1972. Notable alumni include all-star NFL running back Reggie Williams and the MLB’s head of Baseball Operations Jimmie Lee Solomon. The fraternity has occupied two houses on Webster Avenue in the recent past and currently resides in the Channing Cox apartment facilities.Formerly known for its soft, polite, and kind brothers, Beta has since succeeded in the social ascent still eluding Alpha Chi. They are now known for flipping tables in order to enjoy a good dance party, especially if freshman women are involved. Their yard serves as a great place for grilling and spikeball on days warm enough to enjoy the outdoors. These staunch defenders of “The Dartmouth X” can be heard saying, “Bro, I swear she was 18.” You will likely find Betas congregated around a makeshift fire pit like cavemen in awe of their fire-making ability, or in their winter igloo, the Beta Alpha Omigloo.Chemically sedated and laid-back, the brothers of Bones Gate enjoy a good bake, which probably accounts for their at-times tempestuous relationship with the Administration. BG has a reputation for dabbling in harder substances, perhaps contributing to its generally apathetic (in a good way) reputation. Don’t be fooled by their chill vibes, as the brothers of BG are known for their ironic approach to Greek life: one of their signature house chants is simply “F–k BG.” They’re known for their live bands and their signature drink, Cutter. Rumor has it that BG has replaced its insulation with remnants of a solid night’s inhalation.Formerly a fruit-filled alternative to Psi U, Chi Gam has recently fully embraced its motto “Come as you are.” There is no definitive Chi Gam man, and the brothers like it that way. If you’re not seeking to join one of the more eclectic brotherhoods on campus, you may know them as the bros with the outrageously expensive parking spots. The house is also known for its annual Gammapalooza concert during Green Key, and it has a reliable dance party scene when the Hanover Fire Department doesn’t get in the way. Trademarks of Chi Gam include a hot tub and, uh, small tables.Heorot is a conglomeration of hockey, baseball, rowing, and soccer players. Known for a healthy pong scene, large basement, and the Great Hall, Heorot boasts plenty of space for debauchery and hosts the annual final match of the tournament that shall not be named. Heorots can always be identified by their incoherent grunts during intro-level classes. Their fall-term “Hi-lighter” party and the presence of sports teams attract masses of freshmen. For members of Heorot interested in reading this article, an audio copy will soon be made available.GDX might as well be Memorial Field. The pit in the basement was originally designed as a swimming pool but for safety reasons was soon converted to a racquetball court. Considering that none of the brothers know what racquetball is, the space has since been used for more bibulous basement activities. In an attempt to differentiate themselves from the likes of Heorot and TDX, the brothers of Gamma Delta Chi have sought to recruit a handful of literate NARPs. Additionally, perks of house membership now include subscriptions to Grammarly, Chegg, and a repository of every exam administered in the history of Dartmouth College.Pi Kap is the oldest local fraternity, dating back to 1842. These former Tri-Kaps fought long and hard to distinguish their name from that of a similarly initialed group, but they ultimately surrendered. Kappa Kappa Kappa became Kappa Pi Kappa. The fraternity is more lately known for its infestation with libertarians and a recently renovated but sparsely populated basement. As a general rule, the mathematics skillset of a brother of Pi Kap will exceed his tolerance for alcohol by a magnitude of ten. On the off-chance they are hosting an event, the brothers usually end up on a date with the Hanover Fire Department. Lambda Upsilon Lambda is a Latino affinity organization first established at Dartmouth in 1997. The organization has no physical plant, but hosts an annual semi-formal dinner featuring a guest speaker to discuss issues of Latin culture.Lest the old traditions fail. But don’t worry, they won’t, even at the cost of all their social capital. That big white house on the row bleeds the darkest shade of Dartmouth green. A wide assortment of members call Phi Delt home, sharing in a quasi-cultish respect for tradition and universal fear of speaking to women. One of the closest brotherhoods on campus, Phi Delt is known for hosting live bands during Green Key weekend’s “Block Party.” Phi Delt brothers are also known for laid-back “scenes” at the “zig” and for pong into the wee hours of the morning. A lot at Dartmouth has changed over the years, but the big white house on Webster has stood firm—except for the house itself, which has burned down twice.While not a “fraternity” in the traditional sense of the word, 14 Webster Avenue has long been legendary for its debaucherous partying, loose morals, and out-of-control, anything-goes behavior. Former President James O. Freedman had a grotto installed in the backyard, which we hear could get quite sensuous in the right company. Known for their designer t-shirts and middle school-esque cliques, the brothers of Psi U can be seen partying through the windows of their “at-capacity” house. With an uncomfortable basement layout, Psi U’s brothers find themselves hosting dance parties far more often than pong. Regardless of what’s going on in the house, you can always expect a hefty snowstorm. Not to worry: many of the brothers are on Ski Patrol, so you’re in the hands of experts. They also get passes to Killington each winter. Ask a Psi U about his dad’s job on Wall Street or about his affection for poultry.Emerging from the depths of derecognition since 2015, and from the unfortunate interim rebrand of “Scarlett Hall,” Sigma Alpha Epsilon is back, and it’s almost like it never left! The house is known for its affluent and boisterous brotherhood as well as its termly champagne party. When not collecting rent from Novack, you can find the true gentlemen preparing for lucrative careers on Wall Street.Despite the national fraternity’s origin at the post-bellum Virginia Military Institute, Sig Nu faced defeat at the hands of its invading northern neighbors. A recent influx of new members has reinvigorated the house at the cost of its nightly Dungeons and Dragons festivities. The profoundly new presence of women has officially scared away any remnants of the past.“Building Balanced Leaders for the World’s Communities,” is the Sig Ep motto. Their lifestyle as sober and relatively insular places the brothers in a tumultuous social climate. Even some local incels say they were worried about seeming “unpopular” if they accepted a bid. In a partial acquiescence to reality, the forbidden brew seems to be returning to the typically sober halls of Sig Ep.Ever since Robert Frost’s tenure at the organization in the 1890s, the literary reputation of Theta Delta Chi has been in steady decline. The brothers of TDX are known for their affinity for black labs, lacrosse, Range Rovers, and rugby. Come 2:30 am, the Boom Boom Lodge (a nickname earned after the murder of a Dartmouth student during Prohibition) turns into a sweaty, steamy dance floor where hopeless partiers go as a last resort to find that special someone.The Hanover consulate of the People’s Republic of China, Zete has experience in crafting explosive libations that would make the Irish Republican Army blush. Known for their monthly “Zete Night, Late Night” burger sale, usually accompanied by live music, the brothers of Zeta Psi are friendly faces on campus (that is, when they’re not watching anime). The house occasionally hosts a dance scene, though most start the night at Zete and immediately leave. For those looking to ingratiate themselves within the halls of Zete, we recommend getting comfortable with ceiling slams, learning how to grill, and knowing what the “One Piece” is.Year after year, APhi strives to produce a pledge class that more closely resembles its counterpart chapter at the University of Michigan. Previously in a competition to be “just as good as Kappa,” these phisters no longer care and have officially appointed themselves as top house, at least according to Fizz™. When not “waiting for lines” in a frat basement, APhis can be found laughing loudly on fourth-floor Berry (please, shut up).Alpha Thetas are a rambunctious lot, or were, back in the late ’70s. They used to get juiced up and drive their cars relentlessly around Phi Tau. This would continue until they were apprehended by the authorities or the thrill dissipated—whichever came first. These days, as with most of the College’s more reckless traditions, the “Phi Tau 500” is no more. Alpha Theta has mellowed out as well. They are now known more for their capes and top hats than they are for their antics behind the wheel.The sisters of AXiD are better known for their classroom participation than they are for their revelry in the basement. Nevertheless, sisters will sometimes stray from their study tables on 3FB to the debauchery of frat row. Their combination of brains and beauty balances out their absence from some of campus’ bigger scenes, but it leaves them with a B- in social standing. For some of these girls, a B- isn’t good enough, but their grades are sinking so they can keep drinking. We reached out to the house to comment on this description, but the xisters were too busy to respond. They were celebrating the rumor that they might be having tails with Psi U.Formerly Tri Delt, Chi Delt went local and boasts a house full of great girls that are fond of flair. Like their comrades in Alpha Chi, these girls are highly active in many prominent campus organizations. There’s only one pong table in a basement that is inhospitable to those over 5’6”, but the sisters find other ways to have fun. Each autumn, the sisters host an Oktoberfest party, showing off their impressive collection of lederhosen. Chi Delt is composed of self-assured young women, but their reputation for activism, social-climbing, and being the “nice” girls on campus earns them mixed reviews. Ask them about their affection for baking.Many of the “folx” of EKT are involved in campus activism, and the members tend to stick together. Despite having small pledge classes, EKT boasts a tight-knit and diverse sisterhood. This sisterhood (not cisterhood) proudly embraces its alternative social status on campus. It is the most accepting house on campus: of 76 genders, 75 can join. While its members have not historically frequented the office of , we are always looking for new writers.The occupants of campus’s most palatial house, located at the far end of Webster Avenue, the Kappa Deltas formerly struggled to fill it. However, their sisterhood appears to have been revolutionized by the shakeout process. A sorority that was formerly not a first or second choice has now become perhaps the best option for women who are seeking community but are not drawn to the more bibulous and drama-filled houses. Undoubtedly, the KDs’ most defining feature is that they appear to actually like each other, a genuinely rare phenomenon among sororities or any group of college women.A local sorority, KDE boasts an outgoing sisterhood known for loud outfits and voices. Formerly famous for its preppy Derby party in the spring, several years ago the sisterhood changed the theme to Woodstock. KDE’s rambunctious reputation pairs well with its recruitment from many girls’ athletic teams. As it enjoys the most spacious basement of any house on campus, KDE is one of the few sororities to host frat-style partying and pong. Don’t underestimate these girls: they can boot and rally with the best of them.Located past the Alumni Gymnasium, Kappa rarely plays host to any notable social functions, but these gals are a staple on the Greek circuit. Kharacterized by the age-old saying “We eat karrots and date Heorots,” these girls are often konsidered the social kweens of kampus, as demonstrated by their social-media presence. Although not as sporty as KDE, the sisters of Kappa enjoy their athletics, particularly skiing the slopes of New Hampshire in the winter. If you’re looking for a Kappa, your best bet is to head to Dirt Cowboy and keep an eye out for the house’s signature tote bag.Formerly Phi Sigma Psi, Panarchy isn’t quite a fraternity or a sorority—it’s a co-educational undergraduate society. Having broken away from Greek Life in 1994, it is a space for individuals who seek to challenge the Greek system by joining a Greek-adjacent organization. The house features strikingly grand architecture that resembles a Southern fraternity. Today, Panarchy is largely insular and mysterious to the general campus. Unfortunately, no ers are sufficiently alternative to get the inside scoop.One might characterize Phi Tau as “eccentric,” but those more familiar with the house might count that as an understatement. Phi Taus embrace their oddity and aren’t ashamed to demonstrate it. If you’ve got it, flaunt it. Their house is likely the nicest of all the Greek houses, especially if you appreciate sci-fi and cooking. Their termly bash, “Milque and Cookies,” features thousands of cookies and a thick dairy beverage brewed in cauldrons. Sadly, it is (mostly) non-alcoholic.The enthusiastic sisters of Sigma Delt are fun and fond of drink, earning the house a reputation as one of the “frattier” sororities. Sigma Delt is a popular destination for frat bros on probation seeking a familiar ambiance. Even so, the sisters are not afraid of their femininity—you can often see Sigma Delts covered in glitter on big weekends. Feminist to the core, they live by their motto: “Sinking halves and respecting women.”Tabard’s lingerie show each “big weekend” attracts freshmen aplenty but is definitely not for the faint of heart. The Greek letters in the wrought-iron railing over the house’s front entrance spell out its famous joke: Sigma Epsilon Chi. Sex positivity and alternatives to drinking are embedded in Tabard’s culture. Whether you are looking for a quiet but eventful evening with Dartmouth’s creatives or a wild night of debauchery, Tabard welcomes you. However, it does keep its basement selectively open.

https://dartreview.com/fraternity-and-sorority-profiles/

Rush the Field

We all know Dartmouth is a small college steeped in history and tradition. These traditions are passed through the Classes and the years and, with but one hiccup, can disappear.This is my story of rushing the field during Homecoming 2001—an enduring tradition that shows the true grit of a fresh Dartmouth Class. As freshmen, you may feel like you have only just arrived. But at the time of my writing (2005) I am a senior, and believe me: I feel the exact same way. I enjoy telling this story … over and over and over again.As halftime broke, I was shocked to see only one person rush the field. He followed the teams’ departure from Memorial Field perfectly before any Police Officers were prepared for the “Freshmen Rush.” Still, his performance was pretty lame.I expected to watch hoards of my classmates pour onto the field. But they didn’t.As a young kid watching football games at Dartmouth—my dad went here, and so did my sister—I remembered mobs of freshmen running in laps around the field. I recalled one person being arrested, but I swear it was for streaking. I was honestly expecting to see the same rush of freshmen during my first Homecoming. The marching bands continued their sonic assaults, and I realized that it was my time to seize an opportunity.My parents had brought the most disgusting, ghoulish mask to campus that morning for me to enjoy on Halloween. Returning to the stadium with the mask in my shirt, I found some last minute support from my friends and headed closer to the field. Decked out in my class shirt, the world’s worst mask, and some comfy khakis, I decided it was time to go for a jog.I jumped the fence a little late for halftime, which was much to my misfortune: by the time I made the leap, Dartmouth was set to receive and Columbia was in its huddle. When I hit the track, I ran for the Dartmouth end zone. I then went for the longest run I have ever had on Memorial Field. A roaring cheer arose from the crowd.I turned away from the end zone to run the length of the Dartmouth sideline, breaking at the Columbia 25-yard line to loop behind the Columbia huddle. I then made my way back to the Dartmouth end zone, weaving through the set receivers. When I hit the end of my run, I realized I had planned no escape.My run was terrific exercise, but my hiding place was less than mediocre. Yes, I now know that I could have escaped from the tunnel entrance on the north end of the field (N.B.: this is now locked with an iron gate), but I could not see anything when I entered the dark equipment room. Finding refuge behind a bureau, I was quickly handcuffed.The Hanover Police appeared from the cave to an erupting Dartmouth crowd, as the two officers flanked me. The cheering was incessant, but the rest of that story can be passed through the lore of my classmates.After being charged with Criminal Trespassing as a Violation, I then faced more fines and five terms of disciplinary probation from the College. Sure, it was a sentence much harsher than that for many other offenses on campus, but this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Knowing that I upheld a fading tradition of the College brought a certain sense of pride to my freshman experience.The following Homecoming was a sorry sight. The Class of 2006 soiled their opportunity to prove the strength of their Class by sending not one person; instead, they were upstaged the next year by a solid showing from the Class of 2007. So to future Classes, remember: halftime is only fifteen minutes long, and the more, the merrier.The Review

https://dartreview.com/rush-the-field/

Dartmouth’s Best Professors

The Review (This piece is updated yearly. The version seen below was published in s September 13, 2023 print issue.)At the forefront of Thayer’s curriculum development for a number of courses, Professor Bonfert-Taylor takes great interest in the tools and mechanisms of pedagogy. She is always seeking means by which to improve students’ learning, so it is unsurprising that her courses rank among the best and most popular in the Department. Her offering of ENGS 28 (Embedded Systems) is a well-balanced introduction to a field of engineering which, in layman’s terms, uses software to make hardware do things. She successfully integrates theoretical concepts with weekly hands-on laboratory assignments, and she ensures that students complete the course with a range of skills applicable to industry. Moreover, all aspiring engineers should try to take ENGS 20 (Introduction to Scientific Computing) when it is taught by Professor Bonfert-Taylor. Hers is the offering of the course that best provides a foundational understanding of programming concepts which are essential to future success as an Engineering major. Her lectures in ENGS 20 are interactive, and she creates limitless opportunities for students to practice new skills through additional interactive exercises and homework assignments.Professor Calloway is in a league of his own as a scholar and a lecturer. He possesses a vast store of knowledge of American Indian history, extending from the pre-contact era through the end of the western Indian wars more than half a millennium later, and he seems to have published scholarship about all of it. Most recently, for his vividly written , he was a finalist for the 2018 National Book Award in nonfiction. In the classroom, Professor Calloway’s lectures readily command students’ attention and make the time fly by. Impeccably detailed, grammatically irreproachable, and suffused with a fullness of detail, they are the stuff of which other scholars dare only dream. Indeed, his teaching style is at once rigorous and informative, making his lectures fascinating to behold. Every student should try to take at least one course taught by Professor Calloway. You’ll find it an enthralling experience and one that you won’t soon forget.One of the most popular professors in the Department and a Dartmouth alumnus to boot, Professor Christesen is also the most-sought advisor to Classics majors. His lectures provide compelling evidence for the importance of Classics, emergent from his firm grasp on the value of understanding the development of Western civilization. Professor Christesen is a scholar of global renown, and he spent several years at Oxford editing the . He is one of the best lecturers at the College and a wise choice for beginning or continuing any liberal arts education. Listening to his lectures, one gets the impression that he has specifically tailored lessons in order to challenge and stimulate the undergraduate mind. Professor Clark describes himself as “a man without a country,” but he is certainly not a man without a home and adoring children, to abuse the metaphor. The Political Economy Project’s Program Director, Professor Clark teaches courses that are cross-listed among the Departments of Sociology, Economics, and Government. The motif that bridges Professor Clark’s extensive corpus of academic research, writing, and instruction is the social use of moral knowledge. Professor Clark’s wisdom and fairness are rivaled only by his kindness and excellent pedagogy, as evidenced by his citation for teaching excellence. Two of his courses, Morality and Political Economy and Adam Smith and Political Economy, are ubiquitously acclaimed. If one enjoys Professor Clark’s seminar- and research-paper-based style, he or she also ought to consider taking Religion and Political Economy as well as a new course, Markets and Their Critics.Professor Estabrook is the Department of History’s resident expert in British history, and it is fitting that he evinces an Anglo-Saxon sensibility in his authoritative lectures. He is an Anglophile (as one would hope), and his wonderfully anglocentric courses chronicle the history of the British Isles from the Late Middle Ages through the present day. Professor Estabrook’s area of particular expertise is seventeenth-century Britain, with a strong interest in provincial and pastoral life in that epoch. Even so, his knowledge of British history is so vast and encyclopedic as to render him an effective expert on every century and every facet of personal, communal, and political life. Professor Estabrook has no qualms about correcting students in class when he feels they have overgeneralized or are simply missing the point, but he is also remarkably accessible for office hours and takes a genuine interest in his students. He makes frequent and fruitful use of Rauner Library, in which most of his courses meet at least once each week to review a selection of Rauner’s many historical British books, newspapers, and documents.It remains unclear whether Professor Fishere actually enjoys teaching, but he is so brilliant that it is worth taking his courses anyway. Before having to relegate himself to academia, Professor Fishere was a prominent author and intellectual in his home country of Egypt, where he was one of the architects of the Arab Spring. When that movement failed, he promptly became a vocal critic of the current dictator-president Al-Sisi. As a result, Professor Fishere became an enemy of the Egyptian state and had to flee. He still writes against the Al-Sisi regime, and he remains a loud and widely read pro-democracy advocate. Needless to say, he is extremely well qualified to teach courses such as Middle Eastern Politics. The opportunity to take a course with this modern-day Solzhenitsyn should not be missed.Professor Gaposchkin has a love for medieval history that she spreads to her pupils through captivating and informative lectures. Still more importantly, her courses provide students with the skills needed to be successful outside of academia. She makes every attempt possible to meet individually with her students, in whom she takes both an academic and a personal interest. She not only demands excellence but provides each student with the feedback necessary to develop and improve his or her analytical abilities. Professor Gaposchkin embodies the ideals of a liberal arts education, and her courses are a for any student wanting to get the most out of Dartmouth.A beloved professor to multiple generations of ers, Professor Garrison is an extremely intelligent and well-read academic, and she is guaranteed to introduce you to your next niche literary-philosophical obsession. Her courses, such as Rise of the Novel, are great for students looking to get their start in the Department of English, while those with a background in the subject will surely get even more out of her course on Romantic Literature. Though her teaching style is eclectic and her lectures may be a bit unfamiliar to students who have yet to stray from Rocky, her longstanding place in the hearts of ers is well earned.Professor Heschel’s father, Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, has been called the greatest Jewish thinker of the twentieth century for his theological innovations and work in the Civil Rights Movement. Professor Heschel will tell you about growing up in a home where Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was a regular guest, but she is very modest about her own authoritative work on topics ranging from Jewish feminism to Jewish-Muslim relations. No one invests as much energy and care into making Dartmouth an intellectual hub as does Professor Heschel. Like her father, she is a contradiction in terms: an orthodox innovator and an intellectual activist.A specialist in twentieth- and twenty-first-century French literature, Professor Hollister is well known for delivering the most invigorating lectures in the French Department. His vibrant personal presence, ability to alternate effortlessly between ideas and threads, and enthusiasm and encouragement for student participation make each of Professor Hollister’s classes a singular experience. He brings rigorous and wide-reaching tools of analysis to texts and encourages students to do the same: to delve deeply into texts but also consider broader questions of historical, political, and sociological circumstances. It’s small wonder that, in his courses, class periods fly by. Professor Hollister is equally expert on French cinema, and, wherever possible, he adds a selection of excellent films to his syllabi. Perhaps above all, he is kind, accessible, and eminently understanding.In 1999, after anti-WTO protests in Seattle, Professor Irwin took to the pages of to defend WTO trade policies and criticize then-President Bill Clinton for “caving in to pressure from labor interests.” More than two decades later, Irwin leads Dartmouth’s laudable Political Economy Project. This past spring, he assumed the -free-trade position in a PEP debate with the Cato Institute’s Scott Lincicome. Has the world’s foremost expert on international economics pulled a screeching 180 to join the ranks of the so-called economic nationalists? Not in the slightest: Irwin was merely simulating the protectionist position to edify student attendees. Professor Irwin’s expertise in free trade is complemented by his commitment to true pedagogy. He is a brilliant and fair scholar as well as a cogent, genial, and humorous lecturer.An icon in the Department of Economics, Professor Kohn is the maestro of Economics 26 (Intermediaries and Markets), a course every Dartmouth student pursuing a career in finance will inevitably take. A commonly traded tale—of questionable veracity—notes that a citation in Kohn’s course is an instant ticket to a job on Wall Street. Professor Kohn considers himself a dissident academic, so much so that he bases his course on a groundbreaking textbook he wrote himself.  He is one of the most feared professors at Dartmouth, and his classes, conducted in an intense Socratic question-and-answer format, force students to think critically about economics through logical deduction rather than purely graphical and mathematical exercise. Participating in his Political Economy Project book groups allows one to learn much of what’s covered in Econ 26 while also gaining insight into his overarching worldview as it relates to history and contemporary events. Ask him sometime about his theories on market failure (or rather, its non-existence) and economic development, and perhaps about his experiences on an Israeli kibbutz.Professor Kritzman’s groundbreaking scholarship on French culture and French Renaissance literature has wrought a substantial impact on both sides of the Atlantic and has won him myriad awards, including a litany of titles from the French government. He has been a (French knight) since 1990, and he received the , France’s highest civilian honor, in 2012. However, perhaps his most amazing feat is at once ongoing and closer to home. Namely, he is an exceptional pedagogist who manages to teach his students the methodologies of to read and interpret the long and complex texts which invariably populate his syllabi. Professor Kritzman is also enormously kind, thoughtful, and generous of his time. He takes an endearing interest in his students, each of whom he seeks to get to know personally every academic term. Professor Kritzman self-professedly loves to teach, and his students are aware that they benefit from his mastery of the pedagogical project: Those who take a course with Professor Kritzman, whether under the auspices of Comparative Literature or French, regularly return to take additional courses with him. It should thus come as no surprise that he is a winner of Dartmouth’s preeminent Jerome Goldstein Award for Distinguished Teaching. Ask him sometime (in French or English) about his interesting weekly commute to campus—it involves an airplane!Professor Osterberg is a leading climate researcher, but he is also possessed of great pedagogical prowess. A fantastic lecturer with an impressive ability to link the sociopolitical and the scientific, he teaches the ever-popular EARS 2 each winter and makes the course accessible even to those who do not have a background in the sciences. If you need a SCI distribution credit, Professor Osterberg’s EARS 2 is not to be missed. For more advanced students, his offerings of EARS 14 and its effective follow-up, EARS 78, are similarly excellent. Not only is Professor Osterberg a kind man who sets clear expectations for his students, but perhaps no other courses in the Department are as informative and substantive as his. Also: He specializes in the study of ice cores, so try to secure a place on one of his research trips to Greenland!If students are at all interested in historical linguistics, they should gravitate towards Professor Pulju. While his courses are not for the faint of heart, Dartmouth’s resident expert in historical linguistics is a student-favorite due to his wit and vast linguistic knowledge. Jumping seemingly from cognate to cognate across a plethora of languages during his lectures, Pulju can sometimes leave students dizzied from trying to keep up. But for those who are at all interested in delving into the Indo-European linguistic heritage, strongly recommends taking a course with Professor Pulju.Professor Rakova has built a name among the College’s Russian students as the embodiment of firm but fair. She regularly converts even the most recalcitrant learners of the Russian tongue into bona fide Department partisans. The Director of the Russian Language Program, Professor Rakova insists that students attend as many of their drill sessions as possible—sometimes enforcing this ukase with surprise visits and an ability to rake students over the coals that would make a cossack blush. That said, every Russian student knows “Rakova” and adores her. Ask Professor Rakova about her experiences growing up in the Soviet Union, which doubtless inform her commissar-strict approach to language learning.Professor Reinhart has a reputation as a stickler and even, at times, a curmudgeon (if you aren’t five minutes early to class he might mark you late), but take one course with him and you will see why he has such a loyal following of students. He is the longest-serving, least frilly, and best Islam specialist in the Department of Religion, making his courses a must-take for those in search of a non-Western distribution credit. Interest in Islam or even Religion aside, Professor Reinhart sets himself apart as one of the few professors who will genuinely improve your writing. He is passionate about clean writing and will certainly work to clean yours up. His “Writing Wrongs” document will be a lifeline when your writing has been wrecked by one too many “studies” courses.Professor Sullivan is nothing short of a living legend. On the one hand, he is world-famous for his work in optimizing and reducing the size of inductors. But what’s more, his teaching style is revered among engineering students past and present—and for good reason. His offering of ENGS 32, which provides a broad introduction to electronics, is the best in the Department and should be sought out by any aspiring electrical engineer. Professor Sullivan structures the course in brilliant fashion. He introduces students to theoretical concepts, which they then are able to apply to real-world problems in homework assignments. He maintains this pattern throughout the course, and (perhaps counterintuitively) it never fails to be at once engaging and elucidating. ENGS 32 also serves as a prerequisite to another course that Professor Sullivan offers, ENGS 125 (Power Electronics), which focuses on designs that optimize energy delivery to electronic devices. His teaching in that course is similarly outstanding. Engineering students would be remiss if they were to neglect taking a course with so distinguished a pioneer and pedagogist.Professor Swaine is a specialist on political theory in the Department of Government. He teaches Introduction to Political Theory (GOVT 6) each winter as well as myriad upper-level political theory courses, such as GOVT 60.04. He also directs the Department’s Honors Thesis Program. Professor Swaine is not self-aggrandizing in any way and is genuinely interested in teaching to students from all backgrounds, abilities, and political persuasions. In fact, he begins each term by articulating both his commitment to the free exchange of ideas in his classroom and his desire that his own political beliefs remain indiscernible to his students. Shockingly, he accomplishes this feat, making his courses among the best in the Department. A native of Manitoba, he lives up to the Canadian stereotype and is especially warm and funny. Ask him about his standard poodle, Didi. An expert in Classical Greek and the best of all options for learning it, Professor Tell famously teaches Intensive Greek every spring. His course’s title is unflinchingly honest: He holds at least two hours of class each day, Monday through Friday, and likewise administers quizzes on a daily basis. However, if there is a better or quicker option for fulfilling the College’s language requirement—one goes from reciting alpha-beta-gamma to reading the Classics in ten weeks—we at have not yet found it. We highly suggest that you take Intensive Greek or indeed any other course with Professor Tell. He is generous of his time and sympathetic to his students’ questions. The professor may be a Swede, but he understands the pains of language learning like an Achaean. While a Dartmouth undergraduate, Professor Welborn ’02 majored in Economics modified with Mathematics and was dedicated to the study of Chinese language, culture, and history. He also studied under the beloved Professor Meir Kohn, a fellow scholar of Chinese economic history. Today, Professor Welborn’s style of teaching, in courses ranging from Chinese Political Economy (highly recommended) to Introduction to Industrial Organization, mirrors Professor Kohn’s: a flipped classroom structure consisting of considerable reading, active participation, and, if need be, cold-calling. In addition to being an adroit economist, Welborn is an exciting lecturer who incorporates current events, Public Choice Theory, and encyclopedic historical knowledge in his lessons. However, if you’re not a fan of writing, don’t take a course with Welborn: You be writing a proper academic paper at the end of the term. 

https://dartreview.com/dartmouths-best-professors/

The Definitive History of Pong

Pong is quintessentially “Dartmouth.” It links students of the past to the students of the present, and it emphasizes the camaraderie that exists within the larger Dartmouth community. Whether having won or lost, everyone remembers his or her first pong game with a great deal of affection. A right of passage for all freshman, most will eventually find themselves behind a table, paddle in hand, desperately trying to avoid being golden tree’d—losing a game without hitting a single cup—by the end of their first game. While the fate of any Dartmouth student’s first game of pong might be an eternally sore subject, it marks the start of an intimate and long-lasting respectful relationship with the game. However, the adrenaline rush that comes as you sink your first cup is one that most students never forget. Pong through the ages is a topic often discussed by outsiders without context for its true importance—, and strangely enough even have all written about pong. One (now) famous ’78 even wrote his thesis on the game. We at desired to write this piece because we too love pong and all of its longstanding traditions and quirks.The first reported game of pong was played in the mid-1950s. However, it was a niche social activity reserved only for certain fraternities that didn’t gain mainstream popularity until the early ’70s. Fraternity leaders from the Class of 1967 have remarked that they did not ever play pong when they were on campus. Multiple members from the Class of 1971 have made comments along similar lines, with one observing that pong “wasn’t a campus-wide folkway [and its] culture only thrived in some fraternity basements.” However, certain members of the Class embraced this new game and played an average of anywhere from two to four nights a week—a number that may sound familiar to current students. As pong continued to permeate fraternity basements, its popularity began to spread. In 1976, with the addition of female students to Dartmouth’s campus, fraternities began breaking the handles off of ping-pong paddles to make it more difficult for women to hold the paddles and become acclimated to the game. Like most weak and pathetic attempts of excluding women from social spaces and activities, this effort failed miserably. Women quickly integrated themselves into pong culture, adapting to these new paddles and sinking cups. In 1977, the College revoked the status pong had somewhat incredibly enjoyed as the only college-sponsored drinking game in history. Today’s Master’s tournament, played over each Class’s sophomore summer, might be considered an homage to that historical legacy. Each Greek house puts forth its two best teams, and one house ultimately reigns supreme in an epic tournament of pong. By the late 1980s, pong’s place on campus had been solidified. More and more frats integrated pong into their basement scenes, and it became a fundamental part of culture at Dartmouth. The game spread, and subtle changes began to emerge between the various houses on campus. Today, students can be seen playing pong in every basement, almost every day of the week.  reached out to alumni to attain a better understanding of how the set-up and execution of our favorite pastime has evolved since its widespread adoption in 1970s. A Sigma Kappa ’74—a self proclaimed pong expert—described the rules with which he and his friends played in terms that strikingly depart from those used today: “The game in the 1970s consisted of putting a full cup of beer in the middle of each quadrant of the ping-pong table. The objective was to hit the opponent’s cup, in which case he and his partner had to drink 1/4 of his cup. Or, even better, to hit the ping pong ball into the opponent’s cup, in which case he and his partner had to chug their beers.” After hitting an opposing duo’s cup four times, they were out and the next team would be on table. Moreover, despite a common objective, the current practice of aligning the cups in a tree bears little resemblance to the game of old.Even the way we execute pong shots has changed. Prior to the turn of the century, pong much more closely resembled the game of ping pong, with shots being low and difficult to return. A strong player would ideally be able to smash the cups off the table, in which scenario the opposing team would have to refill each cup and imbibe. While still observed in houses such as GDX and Sig Ep today, aces were also crucial to prior variations of pong. An Alpha Chi ’79 confirms that pong players were just as conniving back then as today, describing serving tactics as follows: “Pong involved both fast serves and serves using subterfuge, surprise, lack of convention, and distraction (even physical distraction in doubles).”Nowadays, two players per team is the standard, and the standard pong shot is a lob hit which follows the trajectory of an arc on its journey from the paddle to (hopefully) the opponents’ cups. One can only spectulate as to why pong moved away from fast-pace slams to elongated lobs. Perhaps pong was subjected to the influence of its ugly, red-headed step-sister, beirut. A carnival game that no reasonable person would ever classify as pong, beirut may have informed the use of an arced shot to attack cups. Or perhaps “slam pong” involved much more movement and our game was bred of laziness. Regardless, many students would be shocked and uncomfortable to see the game of old played in our familiar basements. Not only is slam pong frowned upon today, but lobs are the only truly acceptable way to hit a cup. If a player hits the ball too low, or, more accurately, with a downward arc, anyone playing or even observing the game can call “low” and compel the player to re-serve. Cup placement has also deviated from earlier times. Many think of the eleven-cup Tree formation as a sacred symbol of Dartmouth. Bearing questionable resemblance to the Lone Pine, the arrangement can be seen on table (in order to aid in set-up as the night grows long) and even embroidered on fraternity shirts. Although this is the default formation in most Greek houses, a variety of different patterns are used for special occasions.When time is of the essence and waiting lines are long, many houses resort to Shrub, a smaller version of tree that uses seven cups and less beer. On the other end of the spectrum, empty basements sometimes see the infamous Sequoia formation, a tree with an extra row of five beers behind the previous back row of four beers with a double stem. Obviously, this game takes longer and leaves participants substantially more intoxicated than does a game of Tree. An even more ambitious and rare formation is 3-D pong, which refers to its three-dimensional set up. On top of the original tree, cups are stacked higher and higher until reaching a “peak cup,” four cups above the table. Because of the larger target, this game can quickly turn into hedonistic chaos and is typically reserved for big weekends or reckless Keystone enthusiasts.Still another obscure pong formation that remains played today is referred to as The Line of Death, and it still can be seen in the basement of Sigma Nu on rare occasions. Nine or eleven cups are placed in a horizontal line, a paddle’s-length away from the back of the table. A Sigma Nu ’92 tells us that, in his day, Line of Death had three separate variations. Standard Line of Death consisted of eight cups centered on the table. Wall of Death consisted of sixteen cups lining the entire width of the table. Great Wall of Death consisted of thirty-two cups—two rows together, lining the entire back of the table—and a great deal of regret the next morning. Line formations are thought to reward pinpoint accuracy, as all the cups are at the same distance from the other side of the table.Occasionally, games of pong involve more or fewer than four players overall and thus require adjusted set ups. For players serious about improving their game, 48 is a variation that requires only two players. The name is derived from the point system used to score the game, and it bears some resemblance to pong played in the ’70s. For each opponent, two cups are placed side by side, a paddle’s-length from the back. One beer is split between the two cups, and each cup contains four points. A hit represents one point while a sink finishes whatever points remain in the cup. Although often overlooked, it is customary that, after a cup is finished, it remains on the table, and any strikes or sinks of said cup will result in a point deducted from the remaining beer cup. These cups are only refilled when all beer is gone, which happens to fall on multiples of eight—hence the name of the game, 48, referring to a game that ends when the loser finishes his sixth beer. An opponent may have to refill his cups multiple times before his adversary if severely outmatched. Considered a “gentleman’s game,” it does not matter who serves the ball, and participants are obliged to refrain from spin serving.When more than four players are looking for a game, oftentimes two tables will be pushed together for a round of Harbor, which requires four teams of two players. As the name suggests, Harbor is comprised of five ships: straight lines of cups, of varying lengths, that are “sunk” when a constituent cup is sunk and less than two-and-a-half full cups remain in the ship. Each team starts the set-up in a corner of the now-square table. A “six boat,” a ship consisting of six cups, stretches from the corner on the team’s right along the edge of the table, while a five boat runs along the left edge, starting about a cup’s-length from the start of the six boat. From this “L”-shaped start, a four boat runs diagonally towards the center of the table, bisecting the ninety degree angle created by the first two ships. Along the same edge as the five boat is the three boat, which lies on the edge of the team’s region, right where the two tables have been pushed together. Placed horizontally in front of the four ships is the elusive two boat. Lastly, the one boat is placed in between the six, five, and four boats and is actually not a ship at all, but a mine. The mine is notoriously easy to hit, and, when struck, the offender must go over to the opponent’s side of the table, drink the mine, and then refill it. This ordeal leaves the offender’s side vulnerable, as the game does not stop, and his partner must now defend their whole quadrant himself. As teams are eliminated, they must leave the table, and when two teams are left, they take their remaining cups and play on one table as in a regular game of pong. It is important to remember that Harbor waits for no one—anybody is able to serve the ball, and stepping away from the table does not stop the game. Some also play such that off-table shots can be slammed at opponents, and hitting them results in the drinking of a half.Today’s fraternities and sororities all have their own unique rules and customs. Chi Heorot, known for its high ceilings and spacious pong area, offers a space suitable for expert-level pong. Pong at Heorot is played with the regular tree formation, but without medians. Teams can usually decide who serves, and three serve attempts are allowed. Ceilings are always good at Heorot, even on serves, regardless of how hard the ball is hit. Slams are only good off of elbows or on saves, and there are no team saves, meaning that only the person whose turn it is to hit can save the ball. When one’s teammate is especially bad at saves, this rule can be liver-killer.Sigma Alpha Epsilon also uses the tree formation, but it requires that serves be played to the person who has just sunk a cup, if applicable. Servers also get three tries here, but team saves, along with team returns, are allowed.The brothers of Beta Alpha Omega have no problem flipping their tables and clearing out their basement for dancing during the night, but pong is nonetheless an important activity in their basement. Beta uses the tree formation like most fraternities, and also allows three strikes on serve, but only counts a serve as a strike if the ball goes off the table. Beta allows team saves and also allows the use of the body throughout gameplay. The one rule that makes Beta unique is that it allows ceiling slams.Phi Delta Alpha, or Phi Delt, has a heavy-drinking atmosphere that is very conducive for pong. The rules at Phi Delt are pretty standard, featuring tree formation and three off-table serve attempts, although any use of the body is strictly prohibited (and may get you booed out of the basement). Make sure not to hit the ceiling on serves!Pi Kap (Kappa Pi Kappa) is one of the few frats to use the shrub formation, making games shorter but also making lines move more quickly. Pi Kap authorizes three serve attempts, allows players to serve to either side of the table, and also permits team saves. The brothers here can chug like no other, and you’ll scarcely see beer being poured onto the floor. That being said, their somewhat-newly renovated basement contains a water fountain in close proximity to their tables. If you want to play with water—go for it, and drink it to stay hydrated!Alpha Chi Alpha, known as Alpha Chi, has a uniquely shaped basement with three standard pong tables and one table reserved for a drinking game called chesties. (Four players with one cup each stand at each corner of a table and attempt to hit the ball off of their chests into their cup.) Alpha Chi allows three serves as well as environment on hits, meaning that they play anything that hits the table off of any object that is not the floor. Ceiling slams are also allowed. See a brother saluting while drinking? Ask him what it’s about!TDX (Theta Delta Chi) hosts a heavy-drinking pong scene and plays with a double-stemmed tree, placing a twelfth cup at the base of a normal tree set-up, and often pouring seven beers. This basement can often turn into a dance scene, but it is great for pong during the early and extra-late hours of the night. TDX doesn’t allow team saves, but it does permit use of the environment and the body.GDX (Gamma Delta Chi) has a two-floored basement, allowing for a simultaneous dance and pong scene. One level of the basement is your standard scene. The lower one used to be an underground pool, and ceilings are thus especially high at this level. GDX allows only two serves, but it plays aces on serves as a cup. Also, GDX doesn’t allow ceiling serves, but team saves are permitted.Chi Gamma Epsilon, known as Chi Gam, has its basement divided into two sections: Varsity and JV. The Varsity table has a higher ceiling than do the four JV tables, but the same rules are played on all of them. Chi Gam allows only two serves that miss the table, and it doesn’t count ceiling serves. Players are expected to serve the ball to someone when they sink a cup, and team saves are allowed.As stated previously, Sigma Nu will sometimes play with the uncommon line formation, an homage to past pledge classes of the ’80s and ’90s. However, the basement more commonly plays tree. Sigma Nu allows for three serves. It no longer plays with aces, and environment is allowed. Bodies fall into a weird gray zone: nobody in the basement will call you on it, but they will give you a dirty look. Our advice is to respect the house and respect the basement—just use your paddle.Psi U mostly plays with shrub, but many brothers prefer to play tree. Unfortunately for those unfamiliar with this rather short basement, Psi U allows for ceiling slams. The brothers of Zeta Psi also mostly play shrub.As the first sorority to cut ties from a national organization and go local, Sigma Delt’s basement is always open as a female-dominated social space. The women of Sigma Delta are known for their utter mastery of pong. Coining the phrase heard in most every house on campus “Sinking Halves and Respecting Women,” Sigma Delts are a force to be reckoned with in basements—especially their own. Sigma Delts claim pong as theirs and are happy to share that love of the game with all who wish to do so. The house’s official rules reflect this. There must be at least one sister on table at all times, and, when playing with water, they request that the cups be taken from their sustainable cup dispenser. If someone isn’t in the basement, nobody may call line for them. In order to ensure that as many games can be played as possible, the house plays with shrub, and Harbor may not be played on on-nights when people are waiting to play. Sigma Delt’s open basement and rules clearly show how pong can be used as a tool on Dartmouth’s campus to promote equality and fun. All those in their basement and respecting the line can expect to play and have a wonderful time. A game can only be as good as its players’ desire to play fairly, and the sisters of Sigma Delt ensure that rules are respected and upheld within their domain.Regardless of the basement in which one plays it, pong is a quintessential bonding opportunity. This can be seen in its role as a social event for many non-Greek organizations, including varsity and club sports teams, clubs, and even classes and study groups. Typically everyone in the group will plan a convenient time for an organization-wide tournament and “rent out” a frat basement early during an “on” night (Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday) or during an “off” night (any other night). These tournaments are always open to anyone within the student group, regardless of affiliation, but normally at least one member of the student group is affiliated with the house being used. Pong tournaments are so crucial in fostering team camaraderie that many clubs will hold a tournament every term. In tightly knit sports teams, two separate “rankings” will often develop—one for the actual sport being played, and one for pong. We have observed that, in some instances, certain playing traits will carry over from the given sport, making for a distinct playing style and outlook on pong.Pong can be played with or without alcohol—and with almost any type of alcohol. While Keystone Light is the most common poison picked, cups can be seen with everything ranging from batch and boozy lemonade, to an IPA of one’s choosing, to hard cider. Recently, White Claw’s hard seltzer has made its way into basements and cups, much to the chagrin of beer-lovers everywhere. Once a term, Sigma Alpha Epsilon hosts “Champagne,” where invitees dress in classy garb and play with sparkling wines ranging from a $7 Prosecco to bottles of Veuve Clicquot. However, an important terminological change must be noted: when one plays pong with champagne, one should call it “Champong.”There is an argument that pong, like all drinking games, encourages a drinking culture. To a certain point, this argument has merit, and the length and mere fact of our article might be seen as confirming the argument. A team holding table could easily consume fifteen beers over the course of a few hours. Certainly, there are variations of the phrase “losing means drinking, drinking means winning, and therefore losing means winning” espoused by alumni as far back as 1975. However, to play pong, one is not required to drink. An Alpha Chi ’79 emphasizes this sentiment, stating: “For all the folks who say [pong] only encourages drinking alcohol, please note that we played plenty of water pong when we didn’t want to drink beer.” Today, as nights grow long and players’ tolerance becomes stretched, cups filled with beer get spilled onto the floor—much to the chagrin of new members responsible for cleaning the basement—and get replaced with water for the next games. This desire to not push students past their limits could be attributed to numerous features of pong. The most cynical explanation might be that as pong is a team sport, teammates have a practical interest in preventing one another from over-indulging, lest overall performance suffer. There is also a more tender explanation, to which we largely subscribe: the camaraderie brought about by pong can breed mutual respect that incentivizes all players to look out for everyone’s best interest. After all, there is no honor in winning a game against someone incapable of truly playing it.Another important element of pong is that, through the ages, students have found ways to endow games with mirth. A Sigma Kappa ’74 recalls a fond memory of dragging a pong table onto his front lawn for a game on a lovely spring Sunday morning, only to see then-President Kemeny walking down Webster Avenue with his wife on the way to church. Naturally, he greeted them warmly with a jovial “Good Morning.” In the late evening of November 6, 2016, two unknown students stole a regulation-sized piece of plywood from a construction site and carried it across the Green. One student, after spending hours in Chi Gamma Epsilon’s hot tub and consuming a good deal of wine, fondly recalls her decision to fill cups with leftover Chinese food rather than alcohol. Certain houses might use empty cases of beer to build a wall in the center of the table and play “battleship”—each side decides where to put its cups, and each player blindly lobs the ball over the divider to try to sink the opposing side’s ships.While pong may be just a game to some, it is the respect of the game that defines its value on Dartmouth’s campus. People call lows on themselves as a way to hold themselves to a high standard. Close calls are often left to the discretion of those closest to the cup. There are rarely referees in a basement. Instead, there is an overriding sense of honor that each player tends to have—one that is taught, reinforced, and cherished in every house and on every on-night. Life-long friends are made across the pong table. Dartmouth’s unique version of pong has become embedded in virtually every aspect of student life, and, time after time, the game has proven beneficial not only to bring friends closer together but also to make friends of strangers. In the wise words of a Sigma Nu ’92: “Pong is emblematic of Dartmouth as a whole. The underlying traditions and love of institution stays, while the specifics change with the times … We still bleed green and maintain that pong is not pong without paddles.”           The Review ,

https://dartreview.com/the-definitive-history-of-pong/

Fitzgerald Visits Hanover

Review.The story of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s 1939 trip to Dartmouth for Winter Carnival is legendary, even if the best-known version has it simply that the novelist got very drunk in Hanover. Even this condensed form has appeal: the man of letters who does not uphold the supposed dignity of his profession is both comic and tragic. Yet an investigation of the Budd Schulberg papers reveals a tale that, when fleshed out, gains still more gravity and comic appeal.It’s a yarn that Schulberg ’36 related many times in publications, at conferences, and in fictional form in his 1951 novel . Like any drinking story, it seems to alter with each telling to provide maximum entertainment, usually through emphasis but occasionally in presentation of facts. (Did Schulberg really take Fitzgerald to Psi U or simply feint in that direction?) But Schulberg, the acclaimed novelist of and Academy Award-winning screenwriter of , tells it well each time. What follows is the ’39 bender according to Schulberg, as drawn from several accounts and rendered using a combination of quotation and paraphrasing. His is the controlling view, since he stuck by Fitzgerald more closely than did anyone else during their brief excursion in Hanover.Schulberg was something of a Hollywood prince, the son of a movie mogul who had known only Hollywood, Deerfield Academy, and Dartmouth by the time he had reached his twenty-fourth year. He had graduated from Dartmouth three years before and was working for David O. Selznick, a family friend and the legendary producer who would make . This would have led to a career in production, like his father’s, but Schulberg aspired to write. After extricating himself from Selznick, he received a call from the producer Walter Wanger ’15, who proposed making a picture about Dartmouth’s Winter Carnival.“I always thought of Hollywood like a principality of its own,” Schulberg recollected years later. “It was like a sort of a Luxembourg, or something like that, or Liechtenstein. And the people who ran it really had that attitude. They weren’t only running a studio, they were running a whole little world… They could cover up murder… You could literally have somebody killed, and it wouldn’t be in the papers.“It was not something on my own I would sit down and be fascinated by, the Winter Carnival movie,” Schulberg recalled, “but it was good money; it was 250 bucks a week, a lot of money—there’s no denying it. I’d been married young. Also it was about my own place, my own college.”Schulberg later described the Carnival as a “jumping-off point in time for the ski craze that was eventually to sweep America from Maine to California. But somehow in the ’20s, it had gotten all mixed up with the election of a Carnival Queen. And by the time I was an undergraduate, I mean a Dartmouth man, the Carnival had developed into a hyped-up beauty contest, winter fashion show, and fancy dress ball, complete with an ‘Outdoor Evening’ ski-and-ice extravaganza that would have made Busby Berkeley green with envy.“In 1929 the Carnival Queen was a fledgling movie star, Florence Rice, daughter of the illustrious Grantland. […] In 1937, the Dartmouth band led five thousand to Occom Pond in a torchlight parade to cheer the coronation of a gorgeous blonde with full red lips. The Dartmouth ski team swooped down from the hills with flaming torches in tribute to their Queen of the Snow. Champion skaters twirled on the ice in front of her throne and sky rockets lit the winter night. It had begun to look more like a snowbound Hollywood super-colossal starring Sonja Henie and a chorus of Goldwyn Girls than the homespun college event Fred Harris had fathered a quarter of a century before. One could hardly blame a movie-tycoon alumnus like Walter Wanger for wanting to bring it to the screen.“Wanger was a very dapper man; he prided himself on being dapper in a Hollywood setting among gauche Hollywood producers. Walter was Ivy League, and he played that role of the Ivy League producer. He had the right threads on for the Ivy League: he was Brooks Brothers. And he had books—real books!—in the bookcase behind him. The only thing that bothered me—well, a number of things bothered me about Walter—but the only detail that bothered me was that he had a large photo of Mussolini framed there on the wall, inscribed ‘To Walter, with the best wishes of his friend, Benito.’ By the end of the year that disappeared into the bathroom.”Wanger told Schulberg that the script he’d written solo was “lousy” (“I didn’t see in Winter Carnival,” quipped Schulberg) and that he would need Schulberg to rewrite it. Schulberg reflected later that no matter how famous or accomplished a writer was in those days, he could be hired for a few days before being summarily fired. So he was feeling lucky merely for hanging on to the job when, one day, Wanger told him that he would be joined by another writer. Schulberg asked Wanger who his collaborator would be.“It’s F. Scott Fitzgerald,” said Wanger.“I looked at him; I honestly thought he was pulling my leg.” Schulberg had seen Fitzgerald some years back at the Biltmore Theatre: he came out of a play with Dorothy Parker and looked “ghostly white and frail and pail.” But that was some years back, and when Wanger said, ‘F. Scott Fitzgerald,’ I said, ‘Scott Fitzgerald—isn’t he dead?’ And Wanger made some crack like, ‘Well, I doubt that your script is that bad.’ He perhaps said, ‘Maybe bored him to death,’ or something like that. But Wanger said, ‘No, he’s in the next room, and he’s reading your script now.’” Schulberg went to meet him.“My God, he’s so old,” Schulberg thought then. “His complexion,” he said later, “was manuscript white, and, though there was still a light brown tint to his hair, the first impression he made on me was of a ghost—the ghost of the Great Novelist Past who had sprung to early fame with , capped his early promise at age 29 with what many critics hailed as the great American novel, , and then had taken nine years to write and publish the book most of the same critics condemned as ‘disappointing,’ .”Fitzgerald finished reading the forty-eight-odd pages of the script and said, “Well, it’s not very good,” to which Schulberg replied, “Oh, I know, I know, I know it’s not good.” They then went to lunch at the Brown Derby.Schulberg and Fitzgerald soon discovered that they knew “everybody in common; it was a small town… We talked about so many writers. We talked about the dilemma of the Eastern writer coming West and writing movies for a living, always with the dream of that one more chance, one more chance to go back and write that novel, write that play that would reestablish him—mostly him, a few hers—once again.” Schulberg told Fitzgerald how much he admired , and how much it meant to him, and sang the plaudits of his short stories and .“I’m really amazed that you know anything about me,” said Fitzgerald. “I’ve had the feeling that nobody in your generation would read me anymore.” Replied Schulberg, “I have a lot of friends that do.” (“That was only partly true,” he said later, “Most of my radical, communist-oriented peers looked on him as a relic.”) “Last year my royalties were $13,” said Fitzgerald.They discussed politics, literature, and gossip. “Scott was tuned into everything we talked about—everything except . Everything. We went through those things, I think, all afternoon. We decided to meet the next day at the studio at ten, and we did but we got talking about everything but … and we tried, we really tried. But was the kind of movie that is very hard to get your mind on, especially when you have the excitement of so many other things that are really more interesting.”It was, in other words, a pleasant time, though they were not doing the work for which they were being paid. “After about four or five days, it reminded me of sitting around a campus dormitory room in one of those bull sessions, talking about all the things we both shared and enjoyed.” An additional danger loomed: though they drew salaries, they had not signed contracts and could be fired at any time.After a week, Wanger called them into his office to check on their progress. Having done hardly any work, they nevertheless managed not to let on that they had been ignoring the script. Wanger said that they’d better create a central storyline soon, since the entire crew was traveling to Hanover to shoot “backgrounds.” (Said Schulberg, “In those days, they would shoot the backgrounds based on what the scenes were and then in the studio have the actors behaving as if they were at the ski-lift, on the porch of the Inn, and so forth.”)As to whether they should accompany the crew, Fitzgerald was resistant. “Well, Walter, I hadn’t planned to go to Dartmouth. I’ve seen enough college parties, I think, to write a college movie without having to go to the Winter Carnival.” His resistance was perhaps more understandable if one understands that flying in those days required an enormous chunk of time. Recalled Schulberg, “People today don’t realize what flying was. It was just one step away from the Santa Fe Chief. You got on, and you stopped for refueling several times, and it took about sixteen hours.”In the interest of staying employed, however, Fitzgerald gave in. “While I felt sorry for Scott,” Schulberg later said, “I have to admit that I was looking forward to going back to Dartmouth with Scott Fitzgerald.” Schulberg’s father, the head of Paramount, was one of the more literary-minded producers in town, and this trait made him proud that his son was working with such a figure as Fitzgerald. Therefore, the elder Schulberg brought them two bottles of champagne for the trip. “As we got on the plane, we were still talking,” Schulberg remembered. “We were talking about Edmund Wilson; we were talking about communism; we were talking about the people we knew in common, like Upton Sinclair and Lincoln Steffens. All of this was going on and on. And it would have been great fun if we didn’t have this enormous monkey—more like a gorilla—of on our backs. We got to sipping champagne through the next hour or so; it was very congenial. It was really fun, I thought, and then we cracked the second bottle of champagne. We went on merrily talking and drinking. “Every once in a while we would say, ‘You know, by the time we get to Manhattan we’d better have some kind of a line on this .’ And we tried all kinds of things; we really did try.” In Manhattan, they stayed at the Warwick Hotel, where they worked for a bit on the story, to no real end. “Scott,” Schulberg said, “You’ve written a hundred short stories, and I’ve written a few. I mean, between the two of us, we should be able to knock out a damn outline for this story.”“Yes, we will, we will. Don’t worry, pal. We will, we will,” said Fitzgerald. A few college friends called Schulberg, and it turned out they were staying only a few blocks away. “So I told Scott that I would go and see them; I’d be back in one hour. That was one of my mistakes.” When he returned to the room, he found an unpunctuated note that read, from Schulberg’s memory: “Pal, you shouldn’t have left me, pal, because I got lonely, pal, and I went down to the bar, pal, and I came up and looked for you, pal, and now I’m back down at the bar, and I’ll be waiting for you, pal.” Schulberg then found Fitzgerald in a hotel bar a few blocks away and saw that he was in bad shape, not having eaten anything. Nevertheless, Schulberg brought him back to their room, where they continued to drink and work on the script in preparation for a 9a.m. meeting with Wanger at the Waldorf Astoria the next morning. Despite the drink, the lack of sleep, and the fact that they still had no story by the time of the meeting, they successfully evaded Wanger’s detection and were encouraged to keep working. As they got up, Wanger asked in passing, “Oh, by the way, did you meet anybody on the plane?” Schulberg replied that they had seen Sheilah Graham, a movie columnist. “And Walter’s face darkened, and he looked at Scott and said, ‘Scott, you son of a bitch.’” It turned out that Fitzgerald had secretly arranged to have Graham, his girlfriend, accompany him on the trip, though it might be more correct to say that she was the one who insisted on it. Fitzgerald, in addition to his alcoholism, simply had very poor health. But, in Schulberg’s presence, Fitzgerald and Graham pretended to have met by chance on the plane. Schulberg apologized to Fitzgerald for mentioning it in the Waldorf. “Well, Budd,” said Fitzgerald, “it’s my fault. I should have told you.” Later that day, the pair managed to make the Carnival Special, the train transporting crowds of women to Dartmouth for the weekend. “They were really like a thousand Scott Fitzgerald heroines… The entire train [was] given over to Winter Carnival.” In 1974, Schulberg revisited Dartmouth and wrote an open letter to the deceased Fitzgerald, reminiscing about their little bender. The Carnival Special was apparently the most noticeable absence from the 1970s version of the event. “Can you hear me right, Scott? No more Carnival Special! No more train loads of breathless dates, doll-faced blondes and saucy brunettes, the prettiest and flashiest from Vassar, Wellesley, and Smith. Plus the hometown knockouts in form-fitting ski suits, dressed to their sparkling white teeth for what we used to call ‘The Mardi Gras of the North.’ Of course there were some plain faces among them, homespun true loves, as befits any female invasion.”Though Schulberg had told himself he would keep an eye on Fitzgerald’s drinking, the man had nonetheless managed to procure a pint of gin, which he kept in his overcoat pocket. “One thing that [writers are] able to do,” reflected Schulberg years later, is act “like magicians in their ability to hide and then suddenly produce bottles.” Wanger ultimately took Schulberg aside and asked him if Fitzgerald had been drinking, to which he answered no, in a sort of writers’ solidarity against producers. “Another thing I should mention in passing is that Scott may have looked as if he was falling down drunk but his mind never stopped,” Schulberg recalled.When they arrived, the extremely enthusiastic second-unit director, Otto Lovering, better known as Lovey, met them on the platform, bright and eager. “Just tell use where to go, boys,” he said to them. “We’re ready, we got the crew … we’re ready to go!” The pair stalled and asked to go to the Hanover Inn, where they supposed they might think up a story within an hour or so.When they got to the Hanover Inn, the entire film crew was already there, “twenty people—more, two dozen—everybody had a room at the Inn.” Except the writers, apparently. “Sir, we don’t seem to have a reservation for you,” said the desk clerk to Fitzgerald, and as a result Schulberg and Fitzgerald ended up in the attic of the Inn. “It was not really a room meant for people to live in,” remembered Schulberg. “It was sort of an auxiliary room where things were stored.” The room contained a single two-level wire bed, a table, and no chair. “Gee, I’m sorry, Scott, but it’s hard to believe they’ve forgotten to get a room for us,” said Schulberg. “Well,” Fitzgerald quipped, “I guess that really does say something about where the film writer stands in the Hollywood society.” (“He seemed to see it completely in symbols,” Schulberg remembered later.) They stayed in their attic room the entire day, drinking and trying to write. “Scott stretched out on his back in the lower [bunk], and I in the upper, according to our rank, and we tried to ad-lib a story… But the prospect of still another college musical was hardly inspiring, and soon we were comparing the Princeton of his generation with the Dartmouth of mine.”“Well, maybe this is good,” thought Schulberg. “The booze will sort of run out. We’re up in the attic; there’s no phone; there’s nothing. And maybe if Scott takes a nap, and we take a deep breath, we’ll just start all over again.”Periodically, Lovey popped his eager-beaver head into the room. “Where do we go? What’s the first set-up?” Schulberg and Fitzgerald simply pulled locations out of thin air with no relation to any extant plot. They told him on a whim to shoot at the Outing Club: “Well, we have a scene of the two of them as they come down the steps and they look at the frozen pond, and we’ll play that scene there.” They didn’t, in fact, have a scene, but Lovey enthusiastically dispatched these errands.And just when it seemed that they’d drunk all the alcohol, the “ruddy-faced, ex-athlete Professor Red Merrill came into their attic chamber, bearing a bottle of whiskey. Schulberg had been introduced to Fitzgerald’s work in Merrill’s class ‘Sociology and the American Novel,’ and Merrill was a rare Fitzgerald fan. The three of them proceeded to kill this bottle in a few hours while discussing literature. After Merrill left, Lovey ducked in and asked for another set-up, which he received. Fitzgerald was then supposed to attend a reception with Dartmouth’s Dean (there was at that time only one dean) and several other faculty members with an interest in literature. The idea was that Wanger would present him, and Fitzgerald would describe the plot of the film they were shooting. “It was a disaster since it was pretty obvious that not only was Scott drunk, but when I tried to fill in for him, anyone could see that we had no story.”“One Professor Macdonald—I remember him well; he was a very dapper man, very well dressed, very feisty—made me feel bad because I thought he was enjoying Scott’s appearance and apparent defeat. He said, ‘He’s really a total wreck, isn’t he? He’s a total wreck.’ But he didn’t say it in a nice way to me. At the same time, Scott looked as if he was absolutely , but his mind was going fast and well, and he made observations about these people that were much sharper, I think, than anything that Professor MacDonald or anybody else could say.” Then Schulberg realized why Wanger had insisted so strongly on Fitzgerald’s coming to Dartmouth. Wanger had hoped that the College might confer him an honorary degree if he paraded around a writer. “He thought that showing off Scott Fitzgerald, even a faded Scott Fitzgerald, would help him along that road. And now he’d been embarrassed and, in a way, humiliated.” In ’s February 11, 1939 issue, John D. Hess wrote up an interview with Wanger and Fitzgerald: “The public personality of Walter Wanger ’15 is a disturbing blend of abruptness and charm. At this particular interview, he sat quietly in a chair exuding power and authority in easy breaths, seemingly indifferent to anything I said, but quickly, suddenly, sharply catching a phrase, questioning it, commenting upon it, grinding it into me, smiling, and then apparently forgetting all about me again. In a chair directly across from Mr. Wanger was Mr. F. Scott Fitzgerald, who looked and talked as if he had long since become tired of being known as the spokesman of that unfortunate lost generation of the 1920s. Mr. Fitzgerald is working on the script of Mr. Wanger’s picture, .” We now know, of course, that Fitzgerald was not tired, but three sheets to the wind. Having more or less survived the faculty ordeal, the pair proceeded back to the Inn, where Schulberg encouraged Fitzgerald to take an invigorating nap. This he did, lying down on the bottom bunk, and Schulberg, believing Fitzgerald asleep, snuck off to visit some fraternity chums. Sitting at the fraternity bar not long after this escape, Schulberg felt a tap on his shoulder. It was Fitzgerald. “I don’t know how he got there or found me, but he did. And he looked so totally out of place. He had on his fedora and his overcoat. He was not in any way prepared either in his clothing or his mind for this Winter Carnival weekend.” Supporting him by the arm, Schulberg walked Fitzgerald out of the house and down Wheelock Street. He seemed suddenly to regain his energy and suggested having a drink at Psi U. “And when we got to the Inn … I tried to fool Scott. I was trying to get him back in the room. I said, ‘Okay, Scott, here we are,’ but he realized what I was doing and got very mad at me. We had sort of a tussle and we fell down in the snow, kind of rolled in the snow.” After this incident, they decided to visit a coffee shop. At the coffee shop, “it was humorous in a way, because there were all those kids enjoying Winter Carnival, and everybody was so up, and we were so bedraggled, so down, worried, in despair.” Suddenly, Fitzgerald went into his element, and told “this marvelous detailed, romantic story of a girl in an open touring car (he described how she was dressed). Over the top of the hill is this skier coming down, and she stops and looks at him. Scott described it immaculately well.”Having finished the coffee, they proceeded back to the Hanover Inn, on whose steps loomed—“as in a bad movie—or maybe in the movie we were trying to write” —none other than Walter Wanger, dressed in a white tie and top hat “like Fred Astaire.” Wanger was “not a tall man, but standing a step or two above us and with a top hat, he really looked like a Hollywood god staring down at us.”“I don’t know what the next train out of here is,” Wanger intoned, “but you two are going to be on it.”“They put us on the train about one o’clock in the morning with no luggage,” Schulberg remembers. “They just threw us on the train.” At dawn, they pulled into New York, and Schulberg and the porter had to rouse Fitzgerald and drag him into a cab. They returned to the Warwick they had just left and, apparently experiencing a motif, were greeted with the news that there was no room for them. Perhaps, Schulberg thought later, their appearance and lack of luggage dissuaded the staff. “Somehow the days had run together and we hadn’t changed. We both looked like what you look like when you haven’t done some of the things that one needs to do to keep yourself together.”“Have you got a reservation?” the desk staff asked. “Well, we just left,” the pair responded, although, Schulberg recalled, “It seemed like a year, an eternity… As I look back, we had no luggage, and the two of us looked like God knows what. I don’t think we’d changed our clothes from the time we’d left Hollywood. I’m sure we’d hardly gone to bed, maybe an hour or so, half-dressed, in the Warwick.” Several unreceptive hotels later, Fitzgerald said, “Budd, take me to the Doctors’ Hospital. They’ll take me in there at the Doctors’ Hospital.” This worked, and a week later Sheila Graham took Fitzgerald back west.For his part, Schulberg was fired and re-hired. But after , Fitzgerald was “in major trouble,” said Schulberg. “You know what a small town it is. Everybody knows everybody else’s business, and Scott was extremely damaged.” Yet, touchingly for Schulberg, Fitzgerald continued to send him notes about the film. “He had great dreams about Hollywood,” Schulberg recalled. “It was not just the money. Most of the writers I knew—Faulkner and the others—just wanted to get the money and get out. Scott was different. He believed in the movies …. He went to films all the time, and he kept a card file of the plots. He’d go back and write out the plot of every film he saw.“Still, the picture itself couldn’t have worked … for by the end of the ’30s, when we haunted the Carnival, it had become a show in itself. And backstage stories are notoriously resistant to quality.”Schulberg and Fitzgerald remained good friends afterwards, continuing to discuss what they’d always wished to discuss, now without the burden of Wanger or his film. Schulberg remained struck by Fitzgerald’s irrepressible, almost boyish enthusiasm for ideas. “One evening, in West Los Angeles,” Schulberg later wrote, “I was dashing off, late for a dinner party, when Scott burst in. ‘I’ve just been rereading Spengler’s .’ How [could] he maintain this incredible sophomoric enthusiasm that all the agonies could not down? I told him I just didn’t have time to go into Spengler now. I was notoriously late and had to run. Scott accepted this with his usual Minneapolis-cum-Princeton-cum-Southern good manners: ‘All right, but we have to talk about it … in the light of what Hitler is doing in Europe. Spengler saw it coming. I could feel it. But did nothing about it. Typical—of the decline of the west.’”Schulberg later reflected on Fitzgerald, saying that perhaps “it was to make up for the years frittered away at Princeton, and in the playgrounds of the rich, but, drunk or sober—and except for the Dartmouth trip and one other occasion, I only saw him sober—he never stopped learning, never stopped inquiring.” Schulberg recalled the day he saw Fitzgerald for the last time: “I remember very well, it was on the first day of December in 1940, and I was going East. I’d been working on my first novel. I went to say goodbye to Scott, and he was in bed. He lived in a sort of simple, fairly plain apartment right in pretty much the heart of old Hollywood, off of Sunset Boulevard, right around the corner from Schwab’s Drugstore.“Scott had this desk built for him to rest around him in the bed, as he was pretty frail and feeling weak, and at the same time found he could write in bed for two or three hours every day.” Schulberg brought Fitzgerald a copy of , which he had Fitzgerald inscribe to his daughter Vicky. The inscription read “To Vicky, whose illustrious father pulled me out of snowdrifts and away from avalanches.” Dartmouth has this inscribed copy in its special collections.Schulberg asked how Fitzgerald’s newest novel, which turned out to be , was progressing. Fitzgerald answered optimistically, but he spoke little of it otherwise. Though it was not until after Fitzgerald’s death that Schulberg would learn the novel’s exact subject matter, he had long believed it was Hollywood, for Fitzgerald had barraged him with questions about the film industry and what it had been like growing up amidst it. Later, Schulberg was mildly disappointed to read in the first pages of an insight that he had given Fitzgerald during one of these interviews: the idea that Hollywood was an industry town like any other, except that it made movies instead of tires or steel. Yet it did not sting too badly. Reflected Schulberg, “I’ve known writers—I was raised with them—and I’ve known them from one end of my life to the other. And he was one of the gentlest, kindest, most sympathetic and generous writers I’ve ever met. At the same time, of course, he couldn’t stop lifting something you said because that’s the profession he was in.” In late December of 1940, Schulberg, back in Hanover, had a drink with Dartmouth professor Herb West at the Hanover Inn. West “suddenly but terribly casually looked up from his glass and said, ‘Isn’t it too bad about Scott Fitzgerald?’” This was the first that Schulberg had heard of Fitzgerald’s death of a heart attack in Sheila Graham’s apartment. The obituaries would portray Fitzgerald as a mere mascot of the Jazz Age, a man unfit for the age of political commitment. Disgusted, Schulberg, John O’Hara, and Edmund Wilson, , approached in 1941 with the idea of a Fitzgerald memorial issue, which was indeed run. Schulberg’s novel , published in 1950, was widely recognized as a roman-à-clef about his experiences with Fitzgerald, and it became a bestseller. It renewed interest in Fitzgerald and his novels, which were soon reprinted. Today, his critical reputation is unassailable. The Review

https://dartreview.com/fitzgerald-visits-hanover/

Daniel Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary

ADMINISTRATION, THE: Composed of unfamiliar officials who are not acquainted with Locke’s warnings about the inefficacy of coercion.BAKER-BERRY: One of the few libraries on campus to survive last year’s budget cuts. However, we hear Phil has plans to convert it into a convention center.BLUE-LIGHT CHALLENGE, THE: Much like taking Honors Organic Chemistry: not advisable.CLOSED-MINDEDNESS: The condition of being wrong. “Why must everyone be so closed-minded?”COLLEGE DEMOCRATS: The Hanover chapter of the Manhattan Democratic Party.COLLEGE LIBERTARIANS: More obnoxious than the College Democrats. Less obnoxious than the College Republicans. COLLEGE REPUBLICANS: Unsurprisingly, in a near-permanent state of insurrection.“DAILY” DARTMOUTH, THE: No longer daily. The world’s oldest college newspaper, purportedly founded in the late Neolithic Era. Widely known for journalistic integrity, histrionic executives, and social justice editorials written by freshmen who “summer” in Montauk. DARTMOUTH: Conservative by nature. An intellectual wasteland before 1980.DARTMOUTH DINING SERVICES: An institution that lies somewhere between a Communist control economy and a Capitalist monopoly. They provide the best food at Dartmouth for the best prices, because theirs is the only food and theirs the power of price control.DARTMOUTH EXPERIENCE: A précis of no more than a paragraph. Printable in college brochures or alumni newsletters. Must focus on a quirky interest, such as the semiotics of yodeling.DARTMOUTH OUTING CLUB: Formerly like a fraternity, but with flannel shirts, Carhartts, and a conspicuous absence of soap. Now like Amarna, but with flannel shirts, Carhartts, and a conspicuous absence of soap.DARTMOUTH REVIEW, THE: Source of highly original quips about using itself as a doormat. Never admit to reading it regardless of how much you agree with it. In its 40-year history, has produced prominent media personalities, presidential speechwriters, and a Pulitzer Prize winner.DARTMOUTH STUDENT UNION: A “collective” (of course), whose members typically rail against capitalism, racism, imperialism, and “colonism”—whatever that is.DELINEATE: Use improperly. “We must delineate between progressive and violent laughter.”DIVERSITY: Refers to immutable qualities only. An end in and of itself. It is our strength.DRILL: Least nefarious reason to be walking across campus at 7am. EXPRESSING YOURSELF: The point of life.FEELINGS: Must be protected at all costs. FOLKS: Who knew that West Virginia was the birthplace of gender-neutral pronouns? Also featured in Looney Tunes. Spelled “folx” by true experts.FOREIGN STUDY: Useful for finding yourself. The constant target of Parkhurst budget cuts. Afterwards, post pictures on Instagram of yourself posing with the fascinating foreign people you encountered.FRATERNITIES: Large, brick devices used to oppress people. Nevertheless, well attended.FREE SPEECH: Of course you’re for it. “Duh.” But where do we draw the line?GOOD SAM: Everyone’s favorite Dr. Seuss character. If it happens to you, you found the beer stranded on the side of the road.GREAT BOOKS: “Who says? By whose standards?”GREEN KEY: Dartmouth’s very own celebrity music festival. In 1994, the Swinging Steaks played here.HARD-ALCOHOL BAN: A system cleverly designed by the Administration to improve Dartmouth’s image and neutralize those students who will likely create PR problems.HAZING: Starts with DOC Trips, ends at Commencement.HOMECOMING: Old alumni from New York get bused up to campus to watch you run around a fence.HOUSING SYSTEM: The Dartmouth equivalent of homeroom. You will make memories elsewhere.ISRAEL: If only Dartmouth would divest from it, all violence in the Middle East would cease instantaneously.IVY LEAGUE: Acceptance to a member school validates the way your parents raised you, no matter how much you may loathe them as a result.JUAN CARLOS: A humble brother of the late Alpha Delta Fraternity for Men who now leads one of the world’s foremost educational institutions. Known for his undying sense of loyalty and visionary leadership.KING ARTHUR FLOUR: Latest band of plucky Vermont socialists to lose their fight against the fascist DDS. LIBREX: Stay away.LINE, THE: Speculate about where to draw it when you panic and can’t think of anything else to say.LEDYARD CHALLENGE: The real swim test. Beware of poison oak.MALE-DOMINATED: Anything popular.MATTRESS COMPANIES: The extracurricular of choice for budding financial analysts who wish to display their financial acumen in a low-profit, low-margin way.NEOCONSERVATIVE: A useful epithet for undesirable things.NEOLIBERAL: A useful epithet for undesirable things.NOWHERE, THE MIDDLE OF: How every student from New York and L.A. describes Hanover blithely ignoring the fact that this is the most consequential town for miles.OFFENSE: A subjective phenomenon that does not need explanation or rationalization.OTHER, THE: Four wave objectivacation. Always capitalized. Useful when referring to other people as a plural entity is simply too pedestrian. “We will examine how Shakespeare views The Other.” OUTDOORS, THE: If you don’t like them, you have come to the wrong place.PATRIARCHAL: Most things in life. Institutions are everywhere.PAST, THE: Populated by racists, misogynists, bullies, twits, and prudes. All else is superfluous.PHALLIC SYMBOL: Profound. If you haven’t done the reading, flip to a random page and point one out in class discussion. Must be taller than it is wide. See Baker Tower.POLITICALLY CORRECT: The best kind of correct.PRIVILEGE: Like all baggage, must be checked.PRONOUNS: Your email signature is incomplete without them.RELIGION: Always “organized.” Spirituality is better, particularly given that it doesn’t place any restrictions on enjoying tri-weekly on-nights.RIGHT TO YOUR OPINION, THE: “You have the right to your opinion, but…”SCIENCE: Science™. Worthy of religious devotion until you need a science distrib. “Why isn’t Astro 1 a layup anymore?!”SELF, THE: Tack onto paper titles when you are desperate; e.g., “Late Capitalism and the Self.”SELF-CENSORSHIP: Your staunch refusal to say what’s on your mind. Chief subject of all Maoist struggle sessions during meetings of the College Republicans.SELLING OUT: A reference to your acceptance of a financial or consulting job despite being an English major. Placate yourself by writing mediocre poetry.SEVEN, THE: Endorsed by SEUSS, DR.: A recently canceled alumnus. We fear the coming Whoville erasure. SNAKE: Can be found slithering through an Econ major. They might not be better than you, but they will make more money. SOCIALIST: Professor who insists on living in Vermont just to pay the taxes.SOLIDARITY: Standing with the oppressed peoples of the world. Has nothing to do with Lech Wałęsa.STUDENT ASSEMBLY: Sends strongly worded emails to the Administration.TENURE: Chief obstacle to academic rigor.TRADITIONS: Sing about them wistfully, but do your best to ensure they fail.TRIPS: Ostensibly the best part of your Dartmouth Experience. Unless you’re a ’24. Or a ’25.UNSAFE: Anything that you find remotely disagreeable.WHEELOCK, ELEAZAR: Dr. Jill Biden to the Abenaki.X, THE: Your first introduction to the harsh realities of the free market. Worthy of derision—unless you benefit from it. Y’ALL: Another excellent gender-neutral term. Popular among people who consider the South to be a bastion of bigotry and hate.     The Reviewd. This version appeared in the print edition of September 17, 2021.

https://dartreview.com/the-reviews-discombobulation-guide/

“He Was Our President”: Remembering President John Kemeny and the Admission of Women, 50 Years Later

There were no female students at Dartmouth for all my four years, from 1948 to 1952. Women did not start to arrive until the late 1960s, with a few exchange students, mainly theater majors who could fill female roles in stage productions. Coming back to reunions, it was not new buildings that made things look different but seeing women in the bookstore. Wow!We were of a time when students could only find nearby dates with nurses at Mary Hitchcock Hospital or students at Colby Junior College. It took six hours or more for my 1939 Oldsmobile to make it to Ithaca on the Cherry Valley Parkway (before there was a New York Thruway) for dates with the Cornell freshman who became my wife.Fifty years later, we take women students for granted.Our class secretary Bill Montgomery ’52 put me in touch with a member of the pioneering Class of 1976, the first four-year Class with women. Martha Beattie remembers sitting in the balcony of Webster Hall for Convocation. President John Kemeny came to the podium and, with a hint of his Hungarian accent, addressed the students: “Men … and of Dartmouth.” Hooting and hollering broke out. It set the tone for a new Dartmouth.Beattie, later vice president of alumni relations, says the novelty of the first co-ed class and the gift of making history carried the women through any problems.Bringing coeducation with “The Dartmouth Plan” was but one of President Kemeny’s landmark achievements. A giant in computer history as co-inventor of the computer language BASIC, he was a sure hand as leader, keeping the campus cool when the Kent State shooting spread unrest during the Vietnam War. The Indian symbol was retired on his watch.But it was the admission of women that changed the college forever.  Beattie was surprised by how much had been done to make women welcome. She recalls Pete Gardner recruiting women on the Green for crew. “We learned after the fact that he was coaching on his own time and not being paid. There was a generosity of spirit.”The novelty of co-eds made an easier path, she adds. “(whatever).” Beattie served as stroke for the crew on the Charles River, where the crowds shouted “Dartmouth . YEAH!”One female professor advised an alumni group that, with coeducation, “it sure smells better around here.”When female students were surveyed about whether to change “Men of Dartmouth” in the college song, a majority voted not to change it. Said one, “It’s fine with me if these guys want to say they have rocks in their brains.” You had to have a sense of humor, says Beattie. (However, the alma mater’s opening lyric was ultimately changed, in 1988, from “Men of Dartmouth” to “Dear Old Dartmouth.”) My classmate John Rosenwald gave me a story about Kemeny that was told at his memorial in Rollins Chapel. When he was being interviewed by the search committee to be Dartmouth’s 13 president, the committee decided that Kemeny was the right choice and asked if he had any final questions or comments. He answered:Taken aback by this reply, the committee huddled but quickly reaffirmed the decision to offer Kemeny the job. He then threw them a curveball:Beattie saw him as a teacher in her 8:00am Honors Calculus class. Awed at being taught by the leading mathematician in the country, she came to appreciate how this “soft-spoken, shy” man would explain a complex issue. When students were stumped by a tough question, “he would blame himself for not teaching the concept well enough so we could understand it.” Kemeny so loved the College that when it launched a campaign for capital gifts he remarked to Rosenwald, then chairman of the Board of Trustees: “Jean and I are not wealthy, but we want to be part of the campaign. Our most important asset is our home, which we would like to bequeath to the College.”Women in Dartmouth’s first co-ed class revered Kemeny. Seeing his Thunderbird in a parking lot, they would pat the BASIC license plate the way students rub the nose of Warner Bentley’s bust in the Hopkins Center. Beattie affirms, “He was our president.”The student body is now nearly half female and the “Dartmouth Plan” is still in effect, as John Kemeny planned it a half-century ago.The Dartmouth

https://dartreview.com/he-was-our-president-remembering-president-john-kemeny-and-the-admission-of-women-50-years-later/

A History of Dartmouth Night

This Friday is Dartmouth Night, an evening of tradition impressive even by Dartmouth College standards. It kicks off the traditional Homecoming weekend with an evening of speeches, a parade, and, of course, the famous bonfire. For over one-hundred years, Dartmouth students, alumni, and—ahem—administrators have reveled in the camaraderie, good cheer, and College spirit. For instance, Douglas Vanderhoof, of the Class of 1901, wrote home to his parents about Dartmouth Night during his freshman year, declaring: “This is one of the best nights for years … and of course great enthusiasm was aroused.” Though much has changed since then, the classic spirit of the legendary fire remains.The origins of the Dartmouth Night fire trace back over a century. In 1888, students from all four classes built a bonfire of cordwood from the forests around the College to celebrate a baseball victory over Manchester, 34-0. An editorial in criticized the fire, saying “It disturbed the slumbers of a peaceful town, destroyed some property, made the boys feel that they were being men, and in fact did no one any good.” Nevertheless, the idea remained popular, and the bonfires continued informally, both before athletic events and in celebration of victories. These bonfires frequently included an outhouse as part of the fuel for the fire. Five years later, the College officially recognized the fires.Seven years after the fires began, President William Jewett Tucker introduced the ceremony of Dartmouth Night. On September 20, 1895, the first Dartmouth Night was held to celebrate the accomplishments of the alumni of the College and, in Tucker’s words, “to promote class spirit and … initiate freshmen into the community.” described it as an event in which students were “addressed by representative alumni who illustrate the success and ability of Dartmouth graduates.” However, less formal sources relate that the evening tended to be composed of torturously long speeches. Fortunately, over time the speeches came to compose a smaller part of the ceremony, and other events became more prominent.Dartmouth Night became part of President Tucker’s self-conscious effort to strengthen and deepen what he called the “Dartmouth Spirit.” Or, as he put it another time, it was a way to “capitalize the history of the College.” At Dartmouth Night in 1896, Richard Hovey’s “Men of Dartmouth” was elected as the best of all the songs of the College. In 1901, the evening served as a celebration of the hundredth anniversary of Daniel Webster’s graduation (and so students were, naturally, dressed in eighteenth-century costume for the occasion). Probably the most famous Dartmouth Night occurred a bit more than a century ago when William Heneage Legge, the Sixth Earl of Dartmouth and direct descendent of the British noble who provided most of the original capital for the College, visited the campus. The occasion was both dire and celebratory. In February, the old wood-post Dartmouth Hall had burned to the ground in a matter of minutes. The Earl was here to lay the cornerstone for the modern recreation that stands on the same ground today.Thousands of alumni came to town for the event, gathering underneath a huge electric arch over the length of the Dartmouth Hall site, making brilliant the words, “1791—Dartmouth—1904.” The Earl rose and said, “President Tucker is the head of the family of Dartmouth on this side of the water, as I am of the one on the other side. His family is larger than mine, but I do not believe that I envy him in this respect.” He continued: “I do believe, however, that his hope and ambition for his family are identical with mine, that the sons of Dartmouth, whether they be many or few, may be God-fearing men and an honor to the name they bear.”Royal Parkinson, of the Class of 1905, an undergraduate at the time, remembered: “When that came from his heart as you could see that it did, and as it must have since he was called on unexpectedly, old alumni and guests on the platform jumped up and waved their hats, and an alumnus called for a cheer for Lord Dartmouth. We almost had tears in our eyes, but we gave the two loudest cheers that ever shook the walls of a building. After that, the cornerstone was a small part of the occasion.”The Earl’s visit on Dartmouth Night was, as a matter of course, celebrated with an enormous bonfire. But the students were not content with the traditional fire alone. In order to make a vivid impression on the visiting Earl and his companion, a young Winston Churchill, the students formed a parade. The Earl took up the lead, and the students, dressed in their pajamas, marched around the Green. The traditional herding of the freshmen around the bonfire was inaugurated.In 1907, the orations were moved from their original home in the chapel of Dartmouth Hall to the newly completed Webster Hall. The celebration continued to be a big event for alumni. Alumni groups from all over the nation converged on Hanover for the festivities. For those who were unable to attend in person, radio links were established to let clubs all over the nation listen to the speeches and partake vicariously of the revelry, and it was popular for the clubs to send telegrams to Hanover for reading at the ceremonies.Football first began to be associated with Dartmouth Night in the early 1920s. Memorial Field was dedicated on Dartmouth Night in 1923. The raucous pre-football rallies, though, remained quite separate from the somber official activities. In 1936, the College first began the tradition of Homecoming games.Football, though, had always been an integral part of the Dartmouth experience. Professor Edwin J. Bartlett, of the Class of 1872, remembered in his little volume (1922): “Football was simplicity itself. You ran all over the campus, and when, as, and if you got the chance, you kicked a round rubber ball. You might run all the afternoon and not get your toe upon the ball, but you could not deny that you had had a fair chance, and the exercise was yours and could be valued by the number of hot rolls consumed at the evening meal.”Bartlett was clear on the value of football: “It was glorious for exercise and had enough excitement to make it highly interesting. It gave ample opportunity for competitions in speed, finesse, dodging, endurance, and occasional personal collisions.” However, not all agreed: “For a year the faculty in its inscrutable wisdom debarred this highly useful game because of abuses, as they thought, in the manner of playing it.” While an undergraduate, Bartlett was a member of the student committee that successfully petitioned the faculty to reinstate football at the College.And like all of Dartmouth’s big weekends, Homecoming became in many ways an excuse to import women to the College. In the days before coeducation, when Hanover was far more of an outpost than it is today, Homecoming was one of the first times that women from nearby women’s colleges like Smith, Wellesley, etc., would be invited onto campus.During World War II, the celebrations were scaled down markedly. In 1943, President Ernest M. Hopkins presided over only a small gathering in Thayer Hall. However, following World War II, Dartmouth Night enjoyed a resurgence of popularity.In 1946, the formal College events and the unofficial rally were combined in a single grand event, and for the first time the festivities were intentionally scheduled on the weekend of Homecoming. In the 1950s, the current hexagonal construction of railroad ties was first used. Since then, the weekend has undergone a number of changes, but its essence remains.Often, the tradition has been interrupted or sullied by mischief, violence, or act of God. In 1954, the bonfire was canceled due to an impending hurricane, and, in 1963, a drought raised concerns about a major fire, which led to the cancellation of the bonfire. From 1969 to 1972, campus political sentiment was such that there was no official celebration of Dartmouth Night. In 1976, student radicals lit the bonfire prematurely, as it was under construction, for political causes. In 1987, a dissident group calling itself “Womyn to Overthrow Dartmyth” and the “Wimmin’s International Terrorist Conspiracy from Hell” dressed as witches and threw eggs at the podium during the addresses. And in 1992 and again in 1997, the freshman sweep degenerated into full-scale rioting, with downtown Hanover laid waste.Despite change, Dartmouth Night and the ensuing games of Homecoming weekend still provide the ideal opportunities for all members of the College community to show their dedication to Dartmouth, lest the old traditions fail.The Review

https://dartreview.com/a-history-of-dartmouth-night/

A Western Culture Primer

Notwithstanding Philip Larkin’s remark in “A Study of Reading Habits” that “books are a load of crap,” reading can in fact be something for which it is “worth ruining [one’s] eyes,” to quote the same poem again. (Okay, maybe not. That argument is for another time.) But while not all books are a load of crap—Larkin’s protagonist directs his ire at cheap bestsellers—some books are certainly better than others. You’d expect to read such books here at Dartmouth, and you probably will. Yet a great number of very good books, non-fiction in particular, do not find their way into college syllabi. They simply do not square with the reigning ideologies of the day and indeed may be downright hostile to them (as are many of the books listed here). For that reason alone they are worth reading. These books are more than just a critique of contemporary pieties, and it is this other side of them that we address.The focus of this article will be on the affirmative value of three books—, and —to liberal education.The late Allan Bloom subtitled his 1987 bestseller, , as “How Higher Learning Has Failed Democracy and Impoverished the Souls of Today’s Students.” Like his mentor Leo Strauss, Bloom believed that liberal democracy, far from being self-perpetuating, was in fact a precious and fragile thing, subject to dangers within and without.Accordingly, the purpose of liberal education in Bloom’s view was to make the individual aware of the dangers to democracy, mostly internal, but—as we are finding out lately—also external. Chief among the former is, according to Bloom and quoting Alexis de Tocqueville, enslavement to public opinion. The claim of democracy, writes Bloom, “is that every man decides for himself” and that all men are somehow equal. But this “makes it difficult to resist the collectivity of equal men. If all opinions are equal, then the majority of opinions, on the psychological analogy of politics, should hold sway.” This, as Socrates is wont to point out in Book VIII of , is nothing less than a prescription for tyranny. Accordingly, the aim of liberal education is to “free oneself from public guidance and find resources for guidance from within,” such that “the student’s whole life be radically changed by it, that what he learns may affect his action, his tastes, his choices, that no previous attachment be immune to examination and hence re-evaluation.” So much for the view that Bloom was a reactionary. (“Radical conservative” is perhaps a more appropriate, paradoxical epithet.)Bloom did not mean that we should trust our instincts and celebrate the self, for that would be an invitation to narcissism. What he meant was that liberal education should seek, in the Platonic sense, to turn the soul, intrinsically good, from that which is “mingled with darkness, that which is coming into being and passing away,” to “that on which truth and being are shining.” In practice, this involves coming to terms with matters of permanent concern. Socrates’ discourses on justice, free will, human nature, truth, and the good, in other words, must be pursued—passionately—above and beyond the academic disciplines, even as they are pursued within them. Otherwise the “democracy of the disciplines” (as Bloom calls the bewildering array of courses available to college students today), lacking metaphysical glue, becomes anarchical.So, philosophy matters; what else does? We must descend from metaphysics for the time being. Bloom mentions in passing that “the only serious solution is the one that is almost universally rejected: the good old Great Books approach, in which a liberal education means reading certain generally recognized classic texts.” Yet for some reason, Bloom endorses this approach with a great deal of equivocation. On the one hand, he acknowledges that the Great Books excite and satisfy students like nothing else: they raise the sort of big questions that liberal education demands of us. On the other hand, he warns that the Great Books are easily fetishized and turned into a cult that “encourages an autodidact’s self-assurance without competence.” We don’t want to end up like Elizabeth Bennet’s younger sister Mary after all.No such restraint informs the pages of Harold Bloom’s , perhaps the foremost apologia for the Western literary tradition today. Going from one Bloom to another (the two are not related, as Harold liked to point out) might initially seem a natural progression, given that both excoriate those who shun the Great Books in favor of obtuse postmodern theories. However, although they share a contempt for Deconstruction, academic feminism, Cultural Studies, New Historicism, et al., the two Blooms are actually quite dissimilar. Allan Bloom, as we’ve noted, saw the Great Books as possessing a culturally useful function, which is the ability to educate students in the ways of democracy. Harold Bloom would accuse his namesake of “Platonic moralism.” Reading deeply in the Canon, this Bloom believes, “will not make one a better or a worse person, a more useful or more harmful citizen.” Shakespeare, Dante, Chaucer, Milton, Tolstoy, Austen, and Joyce (a few of the authors whom he discusses) are ends in themselves, aesthetic objects to be marveled at for their “mastery of figurative language, originality, cognitive power, knowledge, exuberance of diction.” A student reads them solely to “augment one’s own growing inner self.” Self, not soul, is the byword here, the latter having to do with Platonic metaphysics, the former referring to what makes us individuals.Contrary to Oblonsky’s quip in that “the aim of civilization is to enable us to get enjoyment out of everything,” enlightened hedonism cannot be the be-all and end-all of liberal education. This is not to disparage reading for enjoyment’s sake—who can deny the pleasures of curling up in bed with a volume of Proust?—but merely to note, pragmatically, the difficulties that would arise if we made Harold Bloom’s idea of reading central to liberal education. Objective standards do not exist for us to estimate the value of Shakespeare (Bloom’s favorite author) to one’s “inner self.” And is Bloom right in asserting that only the aesthetic value of literature matters? What would he make, then, of a book like Edward Gibbon’s or, for that matter, Plato’s ? Sure, you can read Gibbon and Plato only for their beautiful prose, but then you’d miss out on their historical and philosophical concerns.Because he spends all of his time attacking postmodern theorists for their “flight from the aesthetic,” Harold Bloom in the end does not really say why he regards Allan Bloom’s approach to the Great Books as flawed. He can’t. We might even see them as sharing similar metaphysics. Both, after all, posit that values—philosophical or literary—exist beyond time and space, as Plato would have it. Here is where their weakness lies. Absent from each book is an awareness of history. I am not saying that Plato’s or Shakespeare’s concerns are not our concerns because they lived in the past, nor am I saying that individual genius is merely the product of social forces. What I mean is that studying the past strengthens rather than weakens literature and philosophy by reminding us that ideas have causes and conditions—as well as consequences.Early on in his life, the historian Jacques Barzun came to a similar realization as the one above. History, he said, could be conceived of as cultural: everything from music to religion to sport might be used to depict the past. Nowhere is this idea more vividly illustrated than in Barzun’s book , an 800-page survey of “art and thought, manners, morals, and religion” from the Reformation to the present day. Within it you will encounter Charles V of Spain but also Christina of Sweden; Goethe and Shakespeare, but also Dorothy Sayers and George Bernard Shaw; Montaigne and Bacon, but also Walter Bagehot and Robert Burton. Find out why Luther and not Leonardo was more of a “Renaissance Man”; why Rousseau neither invented nor idealized the noble savage; why the term “Man” is not just politically incorrect but historically accurate; how the Romantics invented Shakespeare; and just what is meant by that loaded word “decadence.” Walt Whitman said of himself, “I am large. I contain multitudes.” The same might be said of this book.Yes, the Romantics invented Shakespeare. Harold Bloom may see him as a kind of secular god, “a spirit that permeates everywhere, that cannot be confined,” but as Barzun points out, not everyone at every point in time held the Bard in such esteem. There are, Barzun notes, two Shakespeares. One is the 16th-century playwright whom Ben Jonson admired and criticized in equal measure. The other is the Shakespeare apotheosized two centuries after his death by German and English Romantics, and who remains exalted today by the likes of Harold Bloom (whose specialty happens to be Romanticism). A man acutely aware of “the whirligig of taste”—to modify a phrase from —cannot allow Bardolatry to pass without mentioning that men like Pepys, Dryden, Dr. Johnson, Tolstoy, T. S. Eliot, and Yeats all considered Shakespeare far less than superhuman.The point of this example is not to diminish Shakespeare’s greatness—Barzun is very much an admirer of Shakespeare—but to point out how our notions of the way things are may not be as secure as they seem. Allan Bloom advocated philosophy as the means towards freeing the self from public guidance and enabling it to find guidance from within. Such freedom cannot come from philosophy alone. How do we explain the fatuousness of the slogan “Bush = Hitler” without knowing about the past? History in this manner supplies material against which we compare present situations and judge them relatively. To do so is not to succumb to postmodern nihilism. A wise and learned man once said, “The complexity of things, the plurality of minds and wills, and the uncertainty of outcomes form the grounds for keeping one’s outcomes ever subject to revision.” (The words are those of Montaigne.)We needn’t agree with Allan Bloom’s Platonism or Harold Bloom’s Bardolatry to appreciate the influence that Plato and Shakespeare have on Western thought. We needn’t trust Jacques Barzun’s unorthodox pronouncements on Rousseau and Luther to enlarge our understanding of how ideas and individuals interact. Challenging conventional wisdom, as their books do, is valuable. But perhaps there is even greater value in becoming one who can challenge conventional wisdom, as these books teach.The Review

https://dartreview.com/a-western-culture-primer/

When I Touched the Fire

I had done my research, tied my shoes, and braced myself for the sprint as I circled the bonfire. Dartmouth Night was in full swing as my fellow ’15s and I ran in circles on the Green, jogging with friends, chatting it up, slowly charring the left sides of our bodies. A combination of SnS and H-Po circled the blaze, blocking students from potentially “Touching the Fire.” The tradition was whispered of, or talked about hypothetically.Upperclassmen screamed at me to touch the fire as I ran my laps, but it was more joking that I wouldn’t do so than it was actually urging me on. As I ran past the McNutt side of the fire, I saw a figure burst through the crowd, sprinting towards the flame, authorities close behind. All eyes were on him as he raced through the inner circle and continued for the other side. That was when I lost sight of him as my friend and I ducked below the yellow caution tape and made for the bonfire. I made it past the first set of guards, and luckily the wind blew the fire away from me as I slapped a burning wooden pillar. I was Prometheus, in all his glory.By now three officers were running towards me, ready to tackle me. I sidestepped one as he ran by and slipped, then tried to run past a second officer as he attempted to tackle me. My shoulder collided with his chest and he fell to the ground. A third officer gave chase as I dove back into the crowd of ’15s. He pushed towards me, but I kept running, up behind Dartmouth Hall, without looking back.I stopped, caught my breath, and took inventory. My shirt was a little burned, but other than that I felt fine. I returned to my friends at the bonfire, we ran a few more laps, and then went back to the dorm to change and go out.That night I lived it up and even got a beer before a girl did at Psi U. It was an amazing feeling, and it made Homecoming that much better. But all good things do come to an end.After about a week, the glory faded. I went back to Freshman Fall, the realities of long lines and the bottom of the X. But every once in a while someone will bring up Homecoming or the bonfire, and a friend will allude to my courage on that cold night. You touched the fire? And you didn’t get caught? Amazing!The fact of the matter is that the administration is trying to crush tradition at this school, and the fire is one of the last tenets of old Dartmouth. Wes Schaub, the head of GLOS, labeled the bonfire “hazing.” If he is going to be that uncompromising in his stance against tradition, there is no compromise to be had. Administrators unfamiliar with Dartmouth can alienate as many students as much as they care to. It will just breed an unhealthy relationship between those who run the school and those who attend it.Those who touch the fire are the boldest or the dumbest in a Class, or perhaps both at once. It’s an act of rebellion that is utterly existential: a reminder that, no matter what the administration attempts, Dear Old Dartmouth lives on in the flame that warms our hearts on Homecoming.If you happen to know any students who have touched the fire, direct them to me. We’ll share a drink—as long as they’re over twenty-one. I wouldn’t want to break too many rules.The Review

https://dartreview.com/touch-the-fire/

Finding an Education at Dartmouth

Who are you?If you are part of Western civilization, your cultural ancestors are a tiny monotheistic desert tribe of Israelites and a small city-state in what we now call Greece. Even if you are unaware of this dual heritage, it influences your life every day. The political philosopher Leo Strauss discussed Western civilization’s foundations in his important essay “Jerusalem and Athens,” contained in his collection .The tradition designated as that of “Athens” is associated with philosophy and with critical exercise of the mind. The tradition linked to “Jerusalem” is associated with monotheism. The two traditions interact, sometimes fuse, and there exists a dynamic tension between them. Many have argued that it is just this tension that has rendered Western civilization so dynamic down through the centuries. On the side of “Athens” you will want to learn something about Homer, who in many ways laid the basis of Greek philosophy, and you will need to meet Plato, Aristotle, the Greek dramatists, historians, architects, and sculptors.Over in “Jerusalem” you will find the epic account of the career of monotheism as it worked its way out in history. The scriptures, like Homer’s works, have their epic heroes, and, like the Greek tradition they refine and internalize the epic virtues. “Athens” and “Jerusalem” interact, and much flows from the interaction.You will follow all of this down through the centuries, through Virgil, Augustine, and Dante; in Shakespeare; and in Cervantes, Montaigne, Molière, Voltaire, and Goethe; and on to modernity. “The best that has been thought and said,” Matthew Arnold called it. This is the mind of Europe, said T.S. Eliot, “from Homer to the present.”I had never heard of the Athens-Jerusalem paradigm in 1956 when I got out of the Navy and returned to Columbia for my PhD. I had graduated from Columbia College in 1952. I was wandering around in Hamilton Hall getting my course cards signed when Lionel Trilling emerged from his office and asked if I would like to teach freshman English. I said yes, and I soon had three sections of freshman composition and a section of Humanities 1-2. The latter has long been required of all freshmen and is consistently voted by Columbia alumni as the most valuable course they have taken at the College.But that fall, in 1956, I faced an emergency. I had transferred to Columbia in 1950 and had never taken Humanities 1-2. Even worse, the semester had already begun, and my section of Humanities 1 had begun without me (such was the disorganization of the English Department). I had never read the first book assigned, Homer’s . Thinking fast, I met the class, said hello, outlined Aristotle’s description of tragedy as set forth in his , and survived by discussing the nature and goals of tragedy and comedy, not acknowledging that this class right now was a perfect example of both.Teaching the two-semester Humanities 1-2 from 1956 to 1963, when I accepted a position at Dartmouth, ultimately led to the publication of my , a trip through the Columbia Humanities 1-2 syllabus with analysis and commentary. This book about Western Civilization came soon after 9/11, so Osama bin Laden became my promoter, and he turned out to be a very good one in fact. Everyone wanted to talk about Western civilization, which was under attack, and I did so on CNN’s “Book Notes,” from its TV studio in Washington, D.C.The title means that we have all the necessary books, but they are not read. As Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn has said, “A people that no longer remembers has lost its soul.” The ORC, Dartmouth’s course book, has the necessary ingredients to avert such a crisis.I will now move through the necessary syllabus with some sparse commentary. — In the , with the central character being Achilles, we have not only a compelling narrative, but a form of scripture from which Athenian school boys learned the goal of Arete: excellence of character and nobility of action. Athenian school boys would have discussed Arete in the and and analyzed how characters in each embodied or fell short of Arete. Aristotle provided the winning essay on this in his with its portrait of the magnanimous man. — Plato wanted to be a “better teacher than Homer,” and in the and the Socratic dialogues he proposed the heroic philosopher Socrates as the new ideal. In a sense Socrates “internalizes” Arete, the heroic pursuit of philosophical truth. If you want to read one Platonic dialogue at Dartmouth, the brief and beautiful should be the one, giving form to the basis of platonic philosophical idealism. Aristotle was a long-term student at Plato’s Academy, the first university, and left to form his own school, the Lyceum. Dartmouth was founded by Eleazar Wheelock, but its ancestors were the Academy and the Lyceum. Socrates was a heretic in the opinion of the Athenian judges in the Areopagus, who sentenced him to death. There are analogies here with Jesus (Yeshua), who spiritualized Moses’ Ten Commandments and who, for his heresies, also was sentenced to death. — The five books of Moses——represent the epic of Jerusalem, Moses as both general and law-giver on Mount Sinai and dying in that magnificent final scene: Moses on Mount Nebo sees the Promised Land in the distance but never crosses the Jordan to reach it. The best place to go for the epic of Jerusalem is Robert Alter, , an excellent translation with definitive footnotes. The epic hero Moses lived around 1250 BC, the approximate date of the siege of King Priam’s Troy, where Achilles was the epic hero. — Jesus is a complex figure. Notably, in the Sermon on the Mount, he speaks back over 1200 years to Moses on that other mount, Sinai, and he internalizes or spiritualizes Moses’ Ten Commandments. Jesus explains that we are not to be white-washed tombs, white outside and corrupt within, but we must be pure all the way through—speaking of holiness, or the purified soul. Jesus structures his teachings: “It has been said … but I say.” For example, “You have heard it said ‘do not commit adultery.’ But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery in his heart.” Hmmm. But holiness is a “pearl of infinite price,” and when Jesus says, “if your eye offend you, pluck it out,” I think he means it. In practical terms, that might mean secluding oneself in a monastery. I remember reading the gospels with serious attention for the first time in the Columbia Humanities course along with some serious scholarship, and thinking that either this guy was nuts or else he was what he said he was. With Athens and Jerusalem now in place, we can proceed in a more summary manner: — Drawing on both the and the , Virgil tells of the voyage of the Trojan Aeneas from the ruined city of Troy to Latium, where he becomes the founder of Rome and, derivatively, of Europe. The concepts of citizenship and duty emerge as themes in this beautiful work. — His is the great epic of medieval Christianity, synthesizing Athens, Jerusalem, and Amor, the religion of ideal love invented by the medieval troubadours. In his , C.S. Lewis said that Amor represented the greatest change in human nature since Christianity. — In , I discuss as representative of man. Eliot judged Dante to be the greatest post-classical poet for his concentration, Shakespeare the greatest for extension and variety. — For the great works of the Enlightenment, read: Molière’s and . Superb comedies. We read Voltaire’s in the Humanities class, but that was a mistake. is merely amusing. We should have read Voltaire’s . As Jacob Burkhardt said, Voltaire’s rationalism “becomes poetic, even mythic” as it challenges orthodoxies in that work; I would add “luminous.” Much needed to be challenged. We also read Hume’s , which attacked revealed religion with probability theory. I myself think that faith is intellectually illegitimate unless it acknowledges doubt. And the necessity for doubt means tolerance. — As the final work in Humanities 2, we read Dostoyevsky’s , a powerful novel, a gateway to the modern world, and also the perfect Columbia novel. Its hero, Raskolnikov, lives in dirty room in St. Petersburg, thinks he is a genius, and commits a gratuitous murder to prove his superiority to mediocrity. The poet Allen Ginsberg and other Beats around Columbia in fact were involved in a murder when I was teaching there. Ginsberg got off with a mental plea, but Mark Van Doren told him that he needed to hear “the clang of iron behind him.”, I added “Faust in Great Neck,” or , to the core books of the Western canon. James Gatz pushes towards American possibility, re-invents himself as Jay Gatsby, and tries to defeat the ultimate reality: time.The main job in getting a college education is to make sure the large essential parts are firmly in place, after which you can build upon them. The courses you need are right there in the ORC and are often surrounded by nonessentials and even outright garbage. Dartmouth will not tell you what the right courses are to get a college education, but then that doesn’t matter—because I have just done so.The Review

https://dartreview.com/finding-an-education-at-dartmouth/

Lost Songs of Old Dartmouth

Men of Dartmouth, give a rouseFor the College on the hillFor the Lone Pine above herAnd the loyal sons who love herGive a rouse, give a rouse, with a willFor the sons of old DartmouthThe sturdy sons of DartmouthTho’ ‘round the girdled earth they roamHer spell on them remainsThey have the still North in their heartsThe hill winds in their veinsAnd the granite of New HampshireIn their muscles and their brainsAnd the granite of New HampshireIn their muscles and their brainsThey were mighty men of oldThat she nurtured at her sideTill like Vikings they went forthFrom the lone and silent NorthAnd they strove and wrought and they diedBut the sons of old DartmouthThe laurelled sons of DartmouthThe Mother keeps them in her heartAnd guides their altar flameThe still North remembers themThe hill winds know their nameAnd the granite of New HampshireKeeps the record of their fameAnd the granite of New HampshireKeeps the record of their fameMen of Dartmouth, set a watchLest the old traditions failStand as brother stands by brotherDare a deed for the old MotherGreet the world, from the hills, with a hailFor the sons of Old DartmouthThe loyal sons of DartmouthAround the world they keep for herTheir old chivalric faithThey have the still North in their soulsThe hill winds in their breathAnd the granite of New HampshireIs made part of them till deathAnd the granite of New HampshireIs made part of them till deathOh, Eleazar Wheelock was avery pious man; He went into thewilderness to teach the Indian,With a gradus ad Parnassum, a Bible, and a drum,And five hundred gallons of New England rum.Fill the bowl up!Fill the bowl up! Drink to EleazarAnd his primitive AlcazarWhere he mixed drinks for the heathen,In the goodness of his soul.The big chief that met him was thesachem of the Wah-hoo-wahs.If he was not the big chief,there was never one you saw who was;He had tobacco by the cord,ten squaws, and more to come,But he never yet had tastedof New England rum.Eleazar and the chief harangued and gesticulated;They founded Dartmouth Collegeand the big chief matriculated.Eleazar was the facultyand the whole curriculumWas five hundred gallons of New England rum.We will shout Wah-hoo-wahWe will shout for old DartmouthOnce again at her feetWe another vict’ry layWe will shout Wah-hoo-wahStrong her fame we are buildingFor it’s Dartmouth’s DayDear old DartmouthDear old DartmouthBless her nameWhether in defeat or vict’ryWe are loyal just the sameThen we’ll sing to dear old Dartmouth‘Tis for her we fight for fameAnd we’ll shout her praises loud in ev’ry landDear old Dartmouth bless her nameWhere, O where are thepea-green freshmen? (3 times)Safe at last in the soph’more class.They’ve gone out fromPollard’s smut class. (3 times)Safe at last in the soph’more class.Where, O where are thegay young soph’mores? (3 times)Safe at last in the junior class.They’ve gone out fromFergies’s physics. (3 times)Safe at last in the junior class.Where, O where are thedrunken juniors? (3 times)Safe at last in the senior class.They’ve gone out fromFoley’s hist’ry. (3 times)Safe at last in the senior class.Where, O where arethe Grand Old Seniors? (3 times)Safe at last in the wide, wide world.They’ve gone out fromtheir Alma Mater. (3 times)Safe at last in the wide, wide world.Where, O where arethe funny, funny faculty? (3 times)Safe at last in their trundle beds.They’ve come back fromLeb and the Junction. (3 times)Safe at last in their trundle beds.I wish I had a barrel of rum andsugar, three hundred pound;I’d put it in the College belland stir it ‘round and ‘round,Let ev’ry honest fellow drinkhis glass of hearty cheer,For I’m a student of oldDartmouth and a son of a gun for beer.(Chorus)I’m a son of a, sonof a, son of a, son of a,son of a gun for beer.I’m a son of a, son of a,son of a, son of a, son of a gunfor beer.Like ev’ry honest fellow Ilike my whiskey clear,For I’m a student of oldDartmouth and a son of a gun for beer.And if I had a daughter, sir,I’d dress her up in green;And put her on the campus tocoach the freshman team.And if I had a son, sir, I’lltell you what he’d do.He would yell “to Hell with Harvard”like his daddy used to do.(Chorus)As the backs go tearing byOn their way to do or dieMany sighs and many cheersMingle with the Harvard tearsAs the backs go tearing byMaking gain on steady gainEcho swells the sweet refrainDartmouth’s going to win todayDartmouth’s sure to win todayAs the backs go tearing by.Dartmouth’s in town again,Team, Team, Team,Echo the old refrain,Team, Team, Team.Dartmouth for you we sing,Dartmouth the echoes ring,Dartmouth we cheer you.Wah Who Wah Who Wah!Down where the men in Green,Play on play,Are fighting like Dartmouth men;We have the Dartmouth team,And say, Dartmouth’s in town again.Eleazar Wheelock must be turning in his graveOh, Eleazar Wheelock must be turning in his graveOh, Eleazar Wheelock must be turning in his graveAs we go marching onGlory, glory to old DartmouthGlory, glory to old DartmouthGlory, glory to old DartmouthFor this is Dartmouth’s dayDartmouth, there is no music for our singingNo words to bear the burden of our praiseYet how can we be silent and rememberThe splendor and fullness of her daysWho can forget her soft September sunsetsWho can forget those hours that passed like dreams?The long cool shadows floating on the campusThe drifting beauty where the twilight streams?

https://dartreview.com/lost-songs-of-older-dartmouth/

The Storied History of Dartmouth

Dartmouth is the ninth-oldest of America’s Colonial Colleges. Established in 1769, it was the last to receive its charter from the British Crown. Dartmouth’s founding has since become a matter of legend, at the center of which lies one man’s unlikely vision for a small school among New England’s wilderness. In the ensuing decades, Eleazar Wheelock, Samson Occom, and Daniel Webster, Dartmouth’s favorite son, have all emerged as larger-than-life figures. Learning about their lives is as integral to the Dartmouth experience as are partaking of DOC Trips, experiencing Winter Carnival, and relaxing across the Green. We herein present their stories, followed by discussions of Dartmouth’s various administrations, in what we hope provides a fundamental overview of our College’s celebrated history.Wheelock’s sense of divine mission, which guided him to found Dartmouth, also drove his life’s many other pursuits. Born in Windham, Connecticut in 1711, Wheelock graduated from Yale in 1733 and was subsequently ordained as a preacher. Soon thereafter, he became caught up in the Great Awakening, a religious fever spreading throughout New England. The Great Awakening particularly influenced Wheelock’s sermons, which would regularly reduce audiences to tears.One of Wheelock’s first pupils was Samson Occom, a young Connecticut Mohegan who was converted in heat of the Awakening. Wheelock helped him prepare for college until Occom’s weak eyes forced him to abandon his course of study. Occom then established himself as a schoolteacher in New London, later becoming a preacher and schoolmaster to the Montauk tribe of Long Island. He sustained himself and his large family through the manufacture and sale of wooden spoons, cedar pails, churns, and leather books, as well as through his missionary work.His efforts in the latter role led Wheelock to conceive of a missionary school, for Indian as well as white students, in the heart of the Colonies. After receiving a £500 bequest from two young Delawares, and an equivalent donation of land and buildings from Colonel Joshua More, in 1754 Wheelock set up More’s (later “Moor’s”) Indian Charity School in Lebanon, Connecticut. The charity school was a pioneering enterprise, and it received support from such luminaries as George Whitefield, the famed Connecticut Revivalist, who donated a bell.A decade after the school’s inauguration, Colonel More died, leaving the institution without its primary benefactor. To make matters worse, colonial interest in educating Indians was declining as a consequence of the French and Indian War of the late 1750s. Wheelock also proved unable to obtain a charter for the institution, either from the King of England or the Connecticut legislature. Financial hardship, meanwhile, only increased in severity.Wheelock sent his former pupil, Samson Occom, to England in 1764 on a fundraising trip for the school. Wheelock was convinced that Occom’s preaching would be well received and that he would be successful at raising funds. Wheelock’s inklings were confirmed when, together with Reverend Nathaniel Whitaker, Occom collected approximately eleven-thousand pounds. It was an impressive figure for the time, especially given the deteriorating relations between England and the Colonies.A number of prominent Englishmen contributed to the cause. Among them was William Legge, Second Earl of Dartmouth and Secretary of State for the Colonies. He was an admirer of George Whitefield and, by extension, of Wheelock and Occom. As president of the London Board for Moor’s School, he also managed to secure a £200 gift from the King.John Wentworth, an American residing in England, was another key player. A recent appointee as Royal Governor of New Hampshire, he was eager to have the school relocate from Connecticut. His uncle, former Governor Benning Wentworth, had offered Wheelock 500 acres of land, to which John added the grant of an entire township. Wheelock accepted, and a royal charter was finalized in December 1769. Wheelock chose Hanover as the school’s domicile shortly thereafter.Wheelock failed to adequately care for Occom’s family during his time in England, and, coupled with the planned change of location, this motivated Occom to part ways with Wheelock in 1768. Moreover, Occom likely anticipated the character of Wheelock’s new college as one primarily for whites, given Wheelock’s desire to avoid financial failure such as Moor’s Charity School had suffered. Occom’s affiliation with a cause he had served so well had come to an end. But indeed, so too had Wheelock changed the cause that he had promised Occom.Wheelock intended to name his New Hampshire college Wentworth, but the Governor persuaded him to designate it Dartmouth, to gain England’s favor. Ironically, the Earl of Dartmouth, William Legge, lost interest shortly thereafter. He considered Wheelock’s new plan a perversion of the original.The first building was a temporary log hut “without stone, brick, glass, or nails,” which served as a classroom and dormitory. In 1770, Wheelock was the College’s sole faculty member. John W. Ripley, Bezaleel Woodward, and John Smith joined him as tutors the following year. In 1771, Levi Frisbie, Samuel Gray, Sylvanus Ripley, and John Wheelock all became graduates of the College. Dartmouth has produced a Class every year since, the only American college to do so, as the Revolution, the War of 1812, and other conflicts periodically disrupted studies at other institutions.Wheelock designated his son, John Wheelock, as his successor upon his death, which occurred in 1779. John was only twenty-five when he became president of the College, and he seemed insufficiently qualified for the office. Hesitant to approve his posting, the trustees eventually relented, due in part to his willingness to serve without salary.Eager to cultivate respect and support, the younger Wheelock proved too fervent in his efforts to govern the school, alienating students and the trustees. By 1809, opposition to Wheelock’s presidency took hold of the trustees, who slowly converted a majority of the professors to their point of view. After impeaching Wheelock in 1815, the trustees elected Reverend Francis Brown as his successor.However, Wheelock, having no desire to yield, convinced New Hampshire’s Democrats to join him in his struggle against the trustees, whom he accused of various offenses against the College. New Hampshire Democrats, led by then-Governor William Plumer, at first condemned the Dartmouth charter as one “emanating from royalty” and thus unsuitable for the republic. In 1816, these Democrats, through the state legislature, changed the name of Dartmouth College to “Dartmouth University” (calling the College a “University” has been a grave offense ever since), mandated an increase in the number of trustees from twelve to twenty-one, and created a board of overseers with veto power over trustee decisions. Dartmouth was effectively transformed from a private college to a state university.The resulting controversy would outlive John Wheelock himself, who died in 1817. Daniel Webster, a young Dartmouth graduate (Class of 1801) of growing repute, was courted by both sides of the dispute to serve as legal counsel. Some of the college community’s older members recalled Webster’s Dartmouth arrival in 1797. Webster was then dressed in homespun clothing, dyed by his mother, whose colors had bled upon contact with rain. Such was the humble beginning of a future Senator and Secretary of State.Webster lodged his support behind the College’s original trustees. He suggested they file suit against William H. Woodward, former treasurer of Dartmouth, demanding return of the charter, seal, records, and account books seized by him. The original trustees were defeated in the Superior Court of New Hampshire, but they successfully sought an elevation of their grievances to the federal judiciary. They then appealed to the Supreme Court, though their prospects in that body were uncertain. For a fee of $1,000, Webster agreed to represent them in their lawsuit against the state. He would argue that New Hampshire’s actions, in impairing the “obligation of contracts,” were unconstitutional.Webster testified on March 10, 1818, in the case of . Webster’s four-hour oration stands as one of the most memorable in U.S history. At the end of his argument, he famously concluded:Webster’s lip quivered and his voice choked as he delivered the final words. Chief Justice Marshall’s eyes were reportedly moist with tears. A decision was postponed for a year as some of the justices pondered the case. During the interim, Webster, aware of the influence of public sentiment on court decisions, circulated widely the printed copies of his argument.In February of 1819, the Supreme Court ruled in favor of the trustees and the College. Only one dissenting vote was cast. In his magisterial opinion, Marshall remarked, “Perhaps no judicial proceedings in this country ever involved more important consequences.” Indeed, the decision extended federal power at the expense of that of states, confirmed the charter rights of all private colleges of the land, protected businesses and non-profit organizations, and further encouraged their establishment.Webster’s fiery orations brought renewed calm to Hanover. The College, its very character once endangered, entered into a period of normalcy. A pair of short, inconsequential presidencies was followed by Nathan Lord’s ascension. Serving for thirty-five consecutive years, Lord expanded enrollment and constructed Thornton and Wentworth Halls, the buildings flanking Dartmouth Hall. His open endorsement of slavery, however, provoked an eventual backlash against his leadership. In 1863, faced with the prospect of removal, Lord opted to resign his office.Reverend Asa Dodge Smith was appointed as his replacement. The College’s previous annexation of the Chandler Scientific School (America’s first specialized scientific institution) was complemented, under Smith’s tenure, by the creation of the Thayer School of Engineering. This period also saw the establishment of an agricultural college in Hanover. After struggling financially for twenty years just south of East Wheelock Street, the institution subsequently relocated to Durham and later became the University of New Hampshire.Asa Dodge Smith’s successor, Samuel Bartlett, established an administrative pattern frequently imitated in the decades to follow. Unlike future leaders, however, Bartlett also possessed a magical touch, with the capacity to almost seamlessly repair any rifts he would sow. Serving until 1893, Bartlett would oversee Rollins Chapel’s construction and push the endowment past the million-dollar mark.Safeguarding Dartmouth’s continued survival in the face of an unforgiving wilderness and physical isolation was the great triumph of early college leaders. However, succeeding leaders would facilitate even loftier achievements. Under their guidance, Dartmouth would not merely endure but rise to the very pinnacle of education in the New World.It was throughout the early twentieth century, when stakes were highest, that the greatest of Dartmouth’s presidents came to power. The College, at that juncture, constituted little more than a finishing school. Its student body numbered 300, with serious scholarship in short supply among the highly antiquated facilities. While other American colleges fared little better, Dartmouth’s leaders understood the direction that the future necessitated.Assuming the office of the presidency in 1893, Reverend William Jewett Tucker was the first seeking to bring Dartmouth into “the modern era.” His storied accomplishments included an overhaul of the physical campus. Construction of over twenty buildings was undertaken, and the steam plant was erected. Wood stoves on campus thus became relics of the past. The curriculum was also targeted for change, being “broadened” and somewhat secularized. The student body’s size expanded to 1,100. Tucker, like his contemporary Charles Eliot at Harvard, was a persistent advocate for progress in American education. He wished for America’s academic institutions, particularly Dartmouth, to befit the country’s greatness.In 1909, Ernest Fox Nichols entered the presidency in Tucker’s stead. The first since John Wheelock to not belong to the clergy, Nichols effected further secularization at Dartmouth. His tenure was also notable for the founding of the Dartmouth Outing Club and Winter Carnival. In particular, the Carnival became the stuff of lore and was later termed the “Mardi Gras of the North.” The setting of a 1939 motion picture and the scene of countless depravities, it once served host to a drunken F. Scott Fitzgerald.1916 saw Ernest Martin Hopkins appointed as president. In addition to developing Dartmouth’s facilities, Hopkins introduced selective admissions in the early 1920s. He became a legend at the College for his personal involvement in student affairs, staunch loyalty to Dartmouth and its ideals, and considerable forthrightness. Hopkins was famous as well for his emphasis on teaching over research, which was later to draw the ire of some academics. After almost thirty years at the helm, he was succeeded by John Sloan Dickey. Though previously an attorney and high ranking State Department official, Dickey was a man of breadth, and his skills were not only apparent in Parkhurst but in full exertion among New Hampshire’s wilderness. He sought to hone his own mind, body, and spirit, and he made the same far-reaching demands of every Dartmouth student. Under his watch, the ideal of the Dartmouth Man as a well formed, balanced, and vigorous being reached its fruition.Dickey further aimed to make his students cognizant of the world at large. In this vein, he strived to develop a curriculum that was international in scope, and he established numerous foreign-study programs. As Dickey told a Dartmouth audience while the horrors of the Second World War were still fresh, “The world’s problems are your problems … and there is nothing wrong with the world that better human beings cannot fix.”When Dickey departed from Dartmouth in 1970, his was a towering shadow. He left Dartmouth the strongest it ever was. Dickey instilled great love among Dartmouth alumni for their alma mater. Almost seventy percent gave funds to the College in any given year of his tenure, a percentage unequaled since.Replacing Dickey as Dartmouth president was John Kemeny. Co-creator of the BASIC computer language, Kemeny brought technology to the forefront at the College and worked to give students ready access to it. He also initiated co-education in 1972. To meet the needs of the expanded student body, Kemeny instituted the D-Plan, a year-round schedule of operations that exists to this day. It was, in the words of some, a means by which to fit 4,000 students into 3,000 beds. Nonetheless, even into the 1980s, men continued to fill as much as eighty percent of the residence halls.David T. McLaughlin succeeded Kemeny and was himself followed by James O. Freedman. These members of the Wheelock Succession were rooted at opposite poles of the spectrum. McLaughlin, a businessman by occupation, proved unable to adapt to the world of the academy and eventually tendered his resignation. Freedman, meanwhile, was an academic, fixated only on the life of the mind, and wished others at Dartmouth to follow his example. His inaugural address demanded greater representation of the “creative loner” at Dartmouth as well as of “students who march to a different drummer … for whom a library is dukedom large enough.” With these words, Freedman set out to cultivate a student body that was a far cry from Dickey’s ideal. The expansion of SAT scores’ importance in admissions was one consequence of Freedman’s quest. Overall, Freedman’s goal was to “Harvardize” Dartmouth, and for this he was met with substantial criticism from alumni, traditionally minded students, and dissident trustees. He sought to strip Dartmouth of its fundamental identity, emphasizing the importance of the graduate schools at the expense of the undergraduate college and pushing against well-rounded applicants in favor of students who excelled in specific domains.In the end, Freedman’s legacy was one of the superficially academic, as best exemplified by a valedictorian who invoked the “Greek” poet Catullus in his commencement address (see 5/14/07). The East Wheelock Cluster, that glorious den of failed social engineering, stands as another monument to Freedman’s questionable decision making. James Wright, the next president of the College, was well regarded at the interpersonal level but presided over an exceptionally poor, even hostile administration. He is today most notable for his efforts to abolish single-sex Greek houses and thereby effectively do away with the College’s primary social venue. This proposal, announced in 1999 as the “Student Life Initiative,” was met with fierce resistance from students and alumni alike and, ultimately, was timidly withdrawn before it could be implemented. Wright also generated controversy with his mismanagement of the College’s finances, his expansion of the administrative bureaucracy, and his inability to address Class overcrowding issues in certain departments.Such were the grievances aired by four different “petition candidates” (not endorsed by the administration) vying for spots on the Board of Trustees. T.J. Rodgers, Peter Robinson, Todd Zywicki, and Stephen Smith by name, these petitioners criticized Dartmouth’s abandonment of the ideals of breadth, well-roundedness, and balance. Wright took exception, throwing the whole weight of the College against the petition candidates, and he went so far as to set up websites designed solely to discredit these unendorsed challengers.Nevertheless, alumni elected each of these petitioners to the board in turn: Rodgers in 2004, Robinson and Zywicki in 2005, and Smith in 2007. Their significant margins of victory served as a repudiation of Wright’s tenure. After this uninterrupted string of victories, however, Wright and trustee president Ed Haldeman announced a board-packing scheme that would minimize the voice of alumni-elected trustees. The College’s own Association of Alumni thereafter waged a high-profile legal battle against the administration and alleged that it had breached a governance contract that stemmed from an 1891 agreement between the Board of Trustees and the body of alumni. Though the lawsuit did not result in a restoration of the old order, it tarnished Wright’s reputation. Wright resigned in short order, leaving his successor, Dr. Jim Yong Kim, with a $200 million structural budget deficit.Kim’s appointment in 2009 overshadowed the Board of Trustees controversy and ushered in a more conciliatory era in Dartmouth politics. His first two years saw the balancing of the College’s budget and the reduction of bureaucratic bloat through administrative restructuring. President Kim also brought national attention to the College with the establishment of the Center for Health Care Delivery Science and other related medical initiatives. He doubtless drew the most eyes to Hanover when he was nominated by President Obama to head the World Bank in March 2012. Unfortunately, Kim spent most of his third year in office outside of Hanover, trying to secure this nomination from Obama.His absence was felt as major controversies rocked the College, including a nationally reported hazing scandal. This distance from the College’s affairs led many students, faculty members, and alumni alike to criticize his leadership style and question his commitment to the institution over which he was supposed to be presiding.On July 1, 2012, Kim formally called it quits, leaving the College in the hands of Provost Carol Folt, a serial administrator who had begun her tenure at the College as a biology professor in 1983 and had held numerous positions in the Wright administration. After a year blighted by scandals, protests, and campus controversy, Interim President Folt departed for the chancellorship of the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill. Phillip Hanlon, of the Class of 1977, was then appointed the eighteenth member of the Wheelock Succession. He promised to pursue new policies that would end “high-risk and harmful behavior” and to promote experiential learning on campus. Hanlon was substantially successful in implementing wide-reaching policies, promptly banning hard alcohol on campus and implementing the mandatory, four-year sexual violence prevention program (SVPP) that exists to this day. He withdrew College recognition of pledge terms in Greek Life and other student groups, and he ideated and imposed the yearly “frat ban,” which prohibits freshmen from entering Greek houses during their first six weeks at the College. To further assuage national concerns about the continued dominance of Greek Life on campus, he instituted Dartmouth’s “housing system,” a pale imitation of that used at Harvard and Yale, which has bureaucratized the housing process and artificially prevented innumerable friends from rooming together. In a few years’ time, Hanlon also implemented a ban on tobacco.Hanlon’s “Moving Dartmouth Forward” initiative was a noble effort to push the College to become more “modern,” but it ultimately had the twofold effect of unduly prioritizing Dartmouth’s graduate education and instituting a host of superfluous diversity programs. Hanlon also presided over an expansion of funding for STEM, accompanied by budget cuts to the humanities, foreign-study programs, and campus libraries. This drew the ire of many professors in the humanities. The president’s priorities were made clear when he approved the cuts even as he drew record-breaking fundraising hauls for the College.President Hanlon’s tenure was most pointedly defined by his response to the COVID pandemic, a response that was heavily condemned, not just by this paper, as absurdly Draconian. The then-matriculating Class of 2024 was most affected by Dartmouth’s restrictive and insensitive policies, and the number of student suicides in the Class made national headlines. Many students and alumni called for Hanlon’s resignation or ouster, although it was ultimately the laughingly ineffective, unintelligible, and ungrammatical Dean of the College Kathryn Lively who resigned. Lively had been the public face of the administration’s COVID response, and her gross lack of ability to make scientifically informed decisions, much less communicate clearly and sympathetically with students, had made her to the student body. (Notably, during the 2020-2021 academic year, Lively had no issue “disappearing” students—the transitive verb was hers—who even marginally violated her restrictions on social gatherings.)In the aftermath of Dartmouth’s remarkably belated return to in-person and then maskless classes, Hanlon devoted his remaining time at the College to pursuing mental-health initiatives and making his administration, and the College overall, more sensitive and understanding to students’ needs. For these late efforts, Hanlon deserves some measure of praise.Most recently, upon Hanlon’s retirement, the Board of Trustees elected Sian Leah Beilock as Dartmouth’s newest president. The first woman to hold the office, she assumed the presidency in June of 2023, one year after the half-century mark was reached in women’s admission to the College. Her election was a potent gesture to mark that milestone.Her emphasis on mental health and student well-being doubtless appealed to the trustees in the aftermath of COVID, and she has pledged to be a defender of free speech. We hope that President Beilock’s deeds live up to the loftiness of her words.. . .Ultimately, the fate of Dartmouth is not simply defined by the past. It is, rather, actively being shaped by all who attend the College. It is a matter of tradition that, at graduation, the president will bid the departing seniors a simple “so long” (rather than “goodbye”), signifying graduates’ undying ties to the College. In a sense, those who enter Dartmouth never leave. These are words that members of the incoming Class would do well to keep to heart as they begin to write the latest chapter in Dartmouth’s storied history.The Review

https://dartreview.com/history-of-dartmouth/

NH Democratic Gubernatorial Candidates Speak at Dartmouth

On Wednesday, May 22, the Nelson A. Rockefeller Center for Public Policy, the Dartmouth Democrats, the NH Young Democrats, and the NH College Democrats hosted a gubernatorial forum with the 2024 Democratic candidates for New Hampshire governor. The three declared candidates, Mayor Joyce Craig of Manchester, Executive Councilor Cinde Warmington, who represents the Upper Valley, and businessman Jon Kiper, who has previously served in Newmarket town government, were in attendance. The three candidates are vying for the Democratic nomination following current Governor Chris Sununu’s decision to not seek reelection to a fifth term. Sununu, one of the most popular governors in the country, has handily defeated Democratic challengers on numerous occasions since he first narrowly won in 2016. His decision to forgo another term presents Democrats with their best chance to win back the governorship in years. On the Republican side, former U.S. Senator Kelly Ayotte and former NH Senate President Chuck Morse are the main contenders. Early polling conducted by Emerson College suggests that Ayotte enjoys an advantage, at least early on, against both Craig and Warmington in the general elections, likely due in part to the fact that Ayotte served as a prominent senator, albeit years ago, and still boasts considerable name recognition. Ayotte herself lost by extremely-narrow margins to then-Governor and current Senator Maggie Hassan. Most major elections analysts consider the 2024 governor race a tossup.The candidate forum hosted at Dartmouth was framed from the outset as a chance for Democrats to make their case to young voters in the state. Jay Bowie, the president of New Hampshire Young Democrats, stated that it was their goal to set the precedent for how candidates engage with young people. As he said this, though, one only had to look up at the sea of gray hair in the seats to recognize the lack of youth in the audience. The Democrats may very well ride the participation of young voters to victory, but any sign of enthusiasm among college students was patently absent from this forum. Considering the relatively low name recognition of all three candidates, especially of Kiper, the forum was likely the first introduction to many of those in attendance. Warmington explained how her background as a first generation college student who had to work her way through college and “know what it’s like to worry about not having a roof over my head” has prepared her to “look through the lens of the working family.” She explained that affordable housing, addressing the “assault on public schools,” and stopping the “attack on reproductive freedom” are her main priorities. Kiper, who owns Jonny Boston’s International Restaurant in Newmarket, focused his introduction on the housing crisis. He explained his personal experience with the rising cost of living in the state and discussed the state’s aging population and the growing need to house them. All issues, he said, lead back to affordable housing.Craig surveyed her experience in local government, starting from the School Board in Manchester all the way up to being Mayor from 2018 to 2024. She too focused on affordable housing and education, but emphasized the need for a governor who understands the challenges at the local level. When asked about climate policy, all three gave standard Democrat answers. Warmington declared that “climate change is an existential threat caused by human activity.” She mentioned her plan to achieve net-zero emissions and also insisted that climate change can be stopped while still adding jobs. Kiper stated that he would like to sue ExxonMobile for knowingly causing the climate crisis. Craig highlighted her efforts as mayor to transition away from fossil fuels. Warmginton, when asked by the moderators about a citizenship requirement to vote, insisted that Republicans are actively supporting voter suppression and that thousands of people would be disenfranchised by the bill to do away with the affidavit system. Apparently, the policy to require proof of domicile is too steep a mountain to climb for voters, and such a requirement is extremist “voter suppression.” The candidates also gave similar answers to questions about school funding, one of the most contested issues in New Hampshire politics. Craig mentioned that she signed the well-known and ongoing ConVal lawsuit, which argues that the state has failed to meet its constitutional obligations to provide adequate education. Warmington emphasized that she was only able to go to college because of a Pell Grant, and argued that New Hampshire is undermining its own future. She also took a swipe at popular target Education Commissioner Frank Edelblut, whose name elicited a chorus of groans from the audience. Again, all three gave fairly similar responses to questions about the housing crisis, which essentially boiled down to “build more housing.” Kiper mentioned multiple times his support for so-called tiny homes, Craig talked about her efforts as mayor to build more housing, and Warmington’s answer focused on building more units, ending the not-in-my-backyard mentality, and zoning reform. For those who follow New Hampshire politics fairly closely, the answers throughout the forum were hardly surprising. They were consistent with typical state Democratic policy, and the candidates hardly distinguished themselves from each other in any meaningful way. Still, there is an apparent split between the support for the candidates. Between the two major candidates, Craig and Warmington, one can expect very different bases of support. Craig is considered an establishment candidate, having been endorsed by various remnants of the state party apparatus, including former Governor John Lynch, former party chair Kathy Sullivan, and former Executive Councilor (and current congressional candidate) Colin Van Ostern, as well as Massachusetts Governor Maura Healy. Warmington has the support of what can be considered the state’s more progressive wing of the party, including many officials from the Upper Valley. Her endorsements include former Governor of Vermont Howard Dean and former Congresswoman Carol Shea-Porter. She also has the support of State Senator Becky Whitley, who is seen as the progressive candidate in her race for Congress, as opposed to the establishment-backed Van Ostern.It is clear from the forum that Craig intends to rely on the support of the establishment. In nearly every answer she discussed her work as Mayor of Manchester, and along with the support of many state and local officials she has the backing of prominent labor and teachers unions. Warmington, despite being the sole Democrat on the Executive Council, has less support from the party machine. Her coalition will likely lie in the more rural, northern parts of the state. Despite the candidates diverging only slightly, if at all, in their responses to policy questions, it’s likely that these associations (progressive and establishment) will follow the candidates and be a key component of the race.Additionally, one can understand why Warmington and Craig, two of the most prominent on the Democrats’ bench, just now decided to run for governor once Sununu was out of the picture. None of the candidates wowed with charisma, and frankly none are political stars in the making. Craig especially, but all of them to a degree, did not exhibit the confidence and readiness requisite for the office of Governor. Kelly Ayotte at least has the political experience and deep network of support that can make her a successful governor. Even though New Hampshire is trending leftwards, and Donald Trump’s place on the ballot will hurt Republicans in the general election, the race will certainly be one to watch.

https://dartreview.com/nh-democratic-gubernatorial-candidates-speak-at-dartmouth/