The Blood Is Always Redder

By now, most people in the Boston area have heard of the new policy restricting use of the Harvard name to identify certain projects or organizations. It's quite a shame that these stipulations don't apply to literature as well. Perhaps this would have encouraged author Pamela Thomas-Graham '85 to consider making some serious revisions to her first novel, A Darker Shade of Crimson. This often misrepresentative book all but circumvents necessary discussion of important racial issues on campus, and it paints high-ranking university officials as one-dimensional puppets at best. Overburdened with persistent and less-than-subtle reminders of Harvard's prominent place in upperclass social circles, A Darker Shade of Crimson will probably appeal most to those people for whom such arguably false depictions remain valid fantasies.

Veronica Chase--Nikki, to her friends--is the only black member of the Harvard Economics Department. As an assistant professor, Nikki is sinking beneath the weight of research and teaching responsibilities, but her efforts have resulted in her appointment to the Crimson Future Committee (CFC), a prestigious, interdisciplinary group whose members are paving the way towards Harvard's financial security in the twenty-first century. All appears to be well with the CFC--that is, until Nikki stumbles over the dead body of Law School committee member Ella Fisher after a late meeting in Littauer on a rainy night. A black woman herself, Ella's rags-to-riches rise in the university administration was received with mixed feelings in the academic community. But who would possibly want to murder her? Leave it to Nikki to find out.

The list of suspects is somewhat predictable: Ike Fisher, Ella's ex-husband whose post-marital relationship seems more forced than it was forged; Lindsey Wentworth, Ella's upper-class executive assistant with a few secrets of her own; Christian Chung, the University comptroller rumored to have vied for Ella's job; Ian McAllister, head of the Economics Department and a staunch opponent of Ella's policies, and Leo Barrett, Harvard's newest president with a past to which only Ella was privy. Diverse though these characters may seem, the author makes little effort to develop their behaviors or idiosyncrasies in either a compelling or interesting way. Each suspect becomes interchangeable with the next, any of whom could have committed the crime. The reader is left bored and impatient in the process.

Some equally uninspiring characters aid Nikki on her quest to solve the murder, including an actress from the American Repertoire Theater, a 20 year old law student, Nikki's landlady (a former English professor denied tenure) and a Harvard University Police Department detective from the Caribbean. These companion figures are set in opposition to those who fall in the suspect category. The companions take a less-than-active role in providing Nikki with different types of sage advice, while the suspects do their very best to impede her investigation. The result is nothing less than formulaic. Scenes in which Professor Chase is threatened by a particularly unsavory character are followed by chance meetings with her friends, who nevertheless implicitly encourage her inquisitive (if somewhat self-destructive) tendencies. If you can't tell where the plot is headed after the first few chapters, you're probably reading a little too carefully.

To her credit, Thomas-Graham does throw a little spice into the mix for good measure. Shortly after Nikki's investigation begins, she learns that an ex-boyfriend has returned to Harvard and will be taking an assistant professorship in the Government Department, replete with an office just downstairs from her own. Nikki had always imagined that her next encounter with the dashing Dante Rosario would find her stepping out of a limo on Wall Street in some chic Anne Klein suit. Instead, she's wearing a two-year old dress from Urban Outfitters and carrying her lunch in a plastic sack. Everything Nikki does to try and show Dante the success she's made of her life seems to pale in comparison with his accomplishments, making her thwarted attempts at revenge all the more priceless.

Even so, this humor does little to make up for other ridiculously tacky moments. A chase scene in the stacks of Widener? A paintball game involving 12 or so senior faculty members? Come on, who's kidding who?

Perhaps most disappointing is the novel's blase treatment of important questions concerning race. Certain characters rally around stereotypical Afrocentric causes. Others, serving as archetypal liberals, are more open to the concept of inter-ethnic dating on the modern college campus. But essentially, Thomas-Graham does little more than state the fact that life as a black woman at Harvard is difficult, a point with which most of us certainly wouldn't disagree. Nowhere does she attempt to describe the significance of racial obstacles. Nowhere does she explain what methods, if any, Nikki uses to overcome imposed hardships. Thomas-Graham has highlighted a valid problem worthy of further discussion, but, without initiating that discussion, the book's treatment of this problem becomes so diluted as to lose significance. In short, race becomes a subject about which characters can bitch and moan, but not one that the reader can take seriously, regardless of the author's attempts.

One wonders about Thomas-Graham's motivation behind writing this book, the first in what she plans to make into a series of Ivy League mysteries. As a triple Harvard graduate (A.B., M.B.A., J.D.), the first black woman partner at McKinsey & Co. and a member of the prestigious Crain's New York Business "40 Under 40" list of executives, she certainly can't be suffering for money. But consider the following coincidences: both Thomas-Graham and Nikki Chase hail from Detroit; both exhibited marked success in economics-related fields, and both are affiliated with Harvard. Self-aggrandizement? Possibly. A creative outlet? If that's what you want to call it, fine. But steer clear of the assessment that A Darker Shade of Crimson accurately exposes the upper echelons of Harvard society. Allow the book to entertain for you what fantasies it will, but don't doubt for a moment that, in her conception of academic life, the author is entertaining a few fantasies of her own as well.