'Advokats' In The Hous

Tucked between Eliot House and the University Lutheran Church, the modest two-story building on 21 South Street is an apt architectural metaphor for the organization it houses. The headquarters of the Harvard Advocate is more picturesque than pretentious, and save for a crest on the building’s facade, the quaint white siding and green window frames belie the literary clout that lies within.

Though the humble exterior may do well to conceal the presence of the country’s oldest continuously published college literary magazine, the interior tells a different story. The Advocate’s past literally envelops the space: the walls of the Sanctum are lined with rows of wooden plaques dating back to 1872. Names written in gold commemorate board members of each guard, the letters fading away with each older plate. To peruse these plaques along the perimeter of the room is to travel back in time through a chronicle of Harvard luminaries—L. Grossman, J. Atlas, T. S. Eliot, J. Ashbery, T. Roosevelt.

History’s presence is ubiquitous in the Advocate, suspended over every aspect of the publication. Bookshelves sag with yellowing issues, and century-old, sepia-toned photographs of all-male editors hang above the fireplace, observing—from a bygone era—the activities of the publication today. This balance between revering history and promoting the avant-garde is what distinguishes the Advocate from other literary magazines and allows it to seek out the most innovative content.

A RICH HISTORY

Founded in 1866 by Charles S. Gage and William G. Peckham, both class of 1867, the Advocate rose from the ashes of the Collegian, an earlier Harvard newspaper that had been shut down by university administrators following an attack on mandatory chapel attendance.

Originally published in newspaper format, the Advocate was Harvard’s sole publication until The Crimson was founded in 1873. Three years later, some members of the Advocate left to form the Lampoon, and by the 1880s, the publication was exclusively devoted to essays, fiction, and poetry written and submitted by undergraduates.

Today, the Advocate, published quarterly, is composed of four content boards: poetry, fiction, features, and art. Their mission statement is simple—“The Harvard Advocate is concerned with supporting literature and the Arts on campus”—remaining largely unchanged for over a century.



DULCE EST PERICULUM

Despite constant reminders of the past, members say that the Advocate’s history neither defines nor restricts the organization.

Adopting the Collegian’s motto of “Dulce est Periculum” or “Danger is Sweet,” the publication has transgressed boundaries since its inception, for example, advocating coeducation at Harvard when the notion still remained radical. Members say that rather than obliging the magazine to conform to tradition, the Advocate’s history actually allows it to push forward and serves as a “springboard, not a shackle,” according to documents from the Advocate’s archives.

“There’s always been a tendency towards experimentation,” says Evan L. Hanlon ’08, a former Advocate art editor. “That willingness to push the envelope or touch the borders of what’s okay is still definitely alive.”

Unquestionably, some of the Advocate’s most notable alumni have been the most iconoclastic. Hanlon cites past “Advokats” Norman K. Mailer ’43, Frank O’Hara ’50, and John L. Ashbery ’49 as writers who followed their own ideas about writing rather than obeying the status quo, a central tenet of the Advocate’s philosophy.



MAKING HISTORY

To this day, Advocate editors say they strive to feature content that they themselves admire, as opposed to simply chosing pieces that may be the most commercially successful or popular. The rich history of the Advocate, rather than engendering a conflict between the old and the new, actually contributes to its ability to find groundbreaking work.

The Advocate attracts a large quantity of submissions for each issue, allowing editors to cull pieces of the highest quality.

“We’re not running around desperate for content. We can be selective and get things that are really good and really new,” says design board member Joseph B. Morcos ’12, contrasting the Advocate with younger and less prominent publications on campus. “Our history actually contributes to the magazine’s ability to find ahead-of-the-curve things.”

The history of the Advocate is also a source of certain privileges. For instance, the cover of the Fall 2008 Archives issue depicted collages by John Ashbery, a former Advocate editor. “No other magazine would be able to get the rights to those collages,” says Morcos. “But we can fall back on our history.”



ON THE SAME PAGE



A shared pride in Advocate history binds former members to the organization, even decades after their involvement as undergraduates. Louis H. Begley ’54, the critically-acclaimed author, was a member of the fiction board while at Harvard and is currently the Chairman Emeritus of the Advocate’s Board of Trustees. In 2000, an annual prize was established in his honor for the best fiction piece published in the magazine.

“The Advocate was very much at the center of my Harvard experience,” says Begley. “It was my home, if you like.” Begley describes long nights spent laying out the magazine by hand, cutting and pasting stories without the help of computers, and debating about literature.

“Writing is a solitary business, but you have a desire for an audience,” Begley says, comparing the Advocate to a sanctuary for students who care about writing and the arts. “Creative writing classes fulfill that to a degree, but the Advocate gives budding writers a certain autonomy and companionship.”

The support and fellowship that young writers and artists find at the Advocate is one that members say they most appreciate about their involvement—surpassing even the writing or artistic experiences they gained.

Peter C. Nohrnberg ’93 and Stephen L. Burt ’93, current associate professors of English at Harvard, were both editors of the Advocate during undergraduate years, their present careers testifying to the role the magazine has played in nurturing and developing literary and artistic talent.

“I remain grateful to the Advocate,” says Burt, “for providing me with a serious literary community where students could read the work of other students and discuss contemporary literature.”

Douglas Mao ’87, currently an English professor at John Hopkins University, credits the Advocate for encouraging his then-nascent interest in literature. Though he concentrated in biology at Harvard, he realized during his junior year that his true calling was English, not medicine. After his work was accepted and published by the Advocate, Mao describes feeling encouraged. “The Advocate helped me feel where my heart was going,” he says.



THE ADVOCATE TODAY



Clad in a wrinkled button-down shirt and worn sweatshirt, Advocate President Sanders I. Bernstein ’10, a former Crimson Arts executive, looks the picture of a romanticized poet. With an unruly tangle of hair and dark circles under his eyes, he seems as if he hasn’t slept in three days, and rightly so: for the past week, Bernstein has basically lived at the Advocate in order to finalize the spring issue.

“I have a pretty auxiliary position, really,” Bernstein says of his role as President. “I just make sure everything extraneous to the creation of magazine is dealt with.”

He still recalls vividly the first time he ever stepped into the building as a terrified freshman for the introductory comp meeting.

“There were clouds of smoke, glasses of red wine, people laughing at little jokes one of them would tell,” says Bernstein. “It was scary and just really bizarre, and I remember just sitting there on the floor, keeping my head down.”

Despite an intimidating first impression, Bernstein is now undeniably at ease at the Advocate, which he describes as a home away from home. “It’s really come to feel like a community,” Bernstein says.

Fittingly, “home” is a term often used by Advokats both past and present to describe the organization that weaves tradition with innovation, and history with the present.