Courses of Instruction

"What courses are you taking this year?"

"Well, uh,..."

Stop right there. Talking at Harvard is not what it was at old Central High. There you talked just when you felt like saying something. Here talking is a tool and a weapon. Your courses are not a handful of cards, to be slapped down face up and turned for chips. Rather, like the calves of a Victorian lady, they are to be displayed to the vulgar view only at the most propitious moment, and then only after suitable preparatory skirmishes.

You were going to say:

"...uh, Humanities 5, Nat Sci 6, and, uh,...gee, I can't remember what else."

Surely there are more discrete ways of airing the green knee of inexperience. Let's try again.

"What courses are you taking this year?"

Don't rush. Look up from your copy of Theories of Arcana in the Early Renaissance and stroke the goatee you had been contemplating growing.

"It's funny you should ask me that." A silence falls around you. "Just this morning Mr. Purcell..." Not "Professor Purcell, the Nobel Prize winner." Not "Eddie Purcell." Mister Purcell.

"...was trying to persuade me not to bother with 243."

Across the table, there is a hurried, whispered huddle.

"What 243?"

"Physics 243, quantum theory."

"What's that?"

"Advanced physics, see."

Oblivious, you go on.

"After all, you know, there's no point treading water intellectually."

"What are you taking besides science?" he asks insecurely, and the first battle is yours. Since you still can't remember what else you're taking besides Nat Sci 6 and Hum 5, you move on applying similar techniques.

"Well, most of my published writings have been rather impressionistic so I thought I'd try Tartaglia's seminar in analysis." "Analysis" could mean mathematics, literature or psychology; hence the danger in using a real name (your Hum 5 section man's) is nil.

Later you will learn to use gambits such as:

"Well, I just changed my field of concentration from Ancient Tasman History and Lit. to Linguistics and Psychoneurology, so..."

But these sophistications are necessary only if (foolishly) you wish to be honest. It is far preferable to let your inquisitor reveal his program first, then o'ertop it with your own.

When, years hence, your B.A. admits you to the company of educated men, you will be able to face the Muzak with a just pride in how little you know and how well you can talk about it.