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Letters: February 21, 1996
Wrong George, By GeorgeAn indignant professor who noticed an error in our information about the January 24 cover (left) says we should be "ashamed" for making such an obvious blunder. Well, we are at least chagrined. The portrait we identified as that of George II, by John Shackleford, is actually that of George III by an unidentified artist. Both Georges figured prominently in our feature "Young College, New Nation," and either would have been an appropriate cover subject. The Bettmann Archive supplied us with slides of both rulers, and our mistake resulted from some internal miscommunication. Just for the record, we've dummied up a second cover, with George II (right). We regret any confusion the gaffe may have caused. What more can we say? All those guys in wigs look alike.-The Editors
Western CivilizationIt warmed the cockles of this medievalist's heart to read about students responding with interest and insight to the polemics of St. Bernard in Princeton's new humanities course (paw, December 6). There are few good rhetoricians around today-except, perhaps unsurprisingly, in some churches-and I have found in my short teaching experience that many undergraduates are starved for that kind of passion and articulateness in what they read or hear.The structure and content of the course impresses me, but what most lingers in my mind is the students' willingness to work hard and be intellectuals. Those are the two qualities that at bottom separate good students from indifferent ones in the humanities and, consequently, schools of high caliber from those of lesser distinction. Princeton students allow themselves the complexity of talking knowledgeably about St. Bernard in class in the morning and, for instance, listening to rap in their rooms in the evening (as I do on occasion), and they feel the richer for accommodating both cultures. Laura Hollengreen '84 Tucson, Ariz.
While at Princeton, I took courses with Robert Hollander '55, Frank Ordiway '81 *90, and Carol Rigolot; all were brilliant teachers, and I am sure that Humanities 216217/218219, "Introduction to Western Culture," is a fantastic course for the 30 students enrolled. My question is, What are the other 4,000 undergraduates at Princeton taking? At Columbia (where I am currently working toward a PhD in history) every student takes a sequence of courses like this. The article misses the point of the whole debate over courses in Western civilization: Is there some rough core of material that all liberally educated people should share in common, or should the traditional humanities remain the intellectual property of an elite?
Your cover story was devoted to a wonderful, intensive, multidisciplinary course in Western civilization, but I am troubled that not every interested student is permitted to enroll in it. According to the article, 45 students applied for 30 places through an essay competition. What about the 15 students who were turned away? Is this fair or reasonable at a university with Princeton's resources-and, I might add, tuition? Aren't its admission standards stringent enough, and its students intellectually elite enough, to deserve the opportunity to take whatever courses interest them the most?
I read with disbelief that Princeton's offering in Western civilization lacks permanent funding. Here is a chance for some farseeing alumnus to donate the funds to make the course permanent. It is an opportunity to take Princeton from being a very good university to a great one, a university that will lead the way in preserving and developing the Western values that have given mankind so much.
All That JazzI enjoyed Jeremy Caplan '97's article on the history of the Princeton Jazz Ensemble (On the Campus, November 22). It may come as a surprise to the author, born in the 1970s, that not only did jazz lovers "perform occasionally in the '60s" but even earlier, back in the mists of time. Indeed, John Eaton '57, Ed Polcer '58, and I each had groups that performed with some frequency at the eating clubs, at the Student Center, and on the radio in the late '50s. Stan Rubin '55 and the "Tiger Town Five" were well known up and down the Eastern Seaboard in the early '50s and performed at Grace Kelly's wedding to the Prince of Monaco.Although it was before my time, I suspect that Sandy Maxwell '39 and Frank Taplin '37 can vouch that they and others were playing jazz at Princeton in the '30s, and old Triangle Club materials make occasional reference to jazz bands on campus whose members played in the Triangle pit back in the '20s. What we did not have was a large band playing arrangements. But, at least during my vintage, we had a fair number of people playing music across the spectrum, from Dixieland to modern jazz. We managed all this without the Woolworth Center or any rehearsal space supplied by the university and, in many instances, over the strenuous objections of our roommates and neighbors. Elihu Inselbuch '59 New York, N.Y. In the late 1940s, Princeton had tenorman Frank Hillman '47, bassists Dick Unsworth '48 and Barklee Henry '49, pianists Bob Allison '48 and Norm Martin '48, polyhornist John Dengler '48, and the undersigned as percussionist. We were noted for the "society jazz" (funkier than Lester Lanin or Meyer Davis) that showcased at numerous eating clubs and other local venues. Charlton R. Price '48 Kansas City, Mo.
Hearts and MindsAs a college teacher of creative writing for 27 years, I was struck by the letter of Mark L. Kokol '78 in the December 6 paw and the article on creative-writing teacher James Richardson '71 in the same issue.Kokol suggests Princeton needs to concern itself "with habits of the heart and soul" as well as the mind, and that alumni need to rethink "what constitutes success in life, not just success in the boardroom." Creative writing is one of the few academic activities that in a high-pressure, mindcentered academic world deals with habits of the heart and soul. Yet according to your article, Richardson "often finds barely anything in [a student's] poem worth saving," and his students' poems may have lines out of order, he says, "because they are coming out of feelings, which are simultaneous and all mixed up." The implication seems to be that a poem is worth saving if it is freed from feelings. To someone who has encountered many wonderful student-writers in the "real" academic world of nonelite institutions, this stance toward teaching an art based on emotion betrays the mindcenteredness of the educational atmosphere at Princeton. Can't creative criticism of creative work coexist with an acceptance of the validity of emotiondriven expression? Isn't it condescending to present oneself as able to decide what is "worth saving" in anyone's creative work? Are Richardson's students so mind-driven that they accept such a stance with complaisance? Many of the creative activities described in Richardson's classes seem very positive and imaginationengendering. But his pedagogy appears characteristic of academic communities that cater to overachievers. In his book Emotional Intelligence, Daniel Goleman contends that the mind "contributes about 20 percent to the factors that determine life success." Surely the creative arts is an area where the role of emotional intelligence should be given priority. Fred Waage '65 *71 Johnson City, Tenn.
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