When this book first appeared in 1897, the student newspaper the Harvard Crimson, was upset: "With the exception of Haydock, all the characters are unmanly, snobbish, morbid or unhappy. That such characters exist in every college class is of course undeniable, but they are, after all, not typical of this University or, let us hope, of any other. It is indeed admitted in the dedication that the book can lay no claim to being representative of Harvard, but this inconspicuous statement will be overlooked or soon forgotten by the average reader, and a distorted picture of life here will thus be circulated. If such a thing were possible, it would do no harm to confine the circulation of "Harvard Episodes" to Harvard undergraduates. The book is, however, engrossing and exceedingly clever. A distinct power of analysis and observation appears in every story, clear vision combining with fearless statement to produce conviction in the reader's mind. We are indebted to the author for the best written book of fiction that has yet appeared on the subject of Harvard life, although narrow in its treatment." More than a century later, the characters may not seem unmanly, but the prose is still exceedingly clever.
Excerpt from Harvard Episodes: So you think my college life from an undergraduate's standpoint, and it's the only standpoint I give that for, Hewitt snapped his fingers impatiently, will always be as much of a fizzle as it has so far? He had jumped up from the big chair in which he had all along been sprawling and stood before Robinson in an attitude that was at once incredulous and despairing. The momentary embar rassment that Curtiss felt at'this unex pected show of feeling on the part of his young friend, took the form of extreme deliberation in returning his cigarette-case to his pocket, and in repeating the per formance of lighting his cigarette that had not gone out.
Charles Macomb Flandreau became a minor literary sensation after the publication of these short stories about Harvard in the 1890s, which have been called “the first realistic description of undergraduate life in American colleges.” And it was F. Scott Fitzgerald who came to Flandreau, his fellow Minnesotan, in 1919, asking for advice on how to get "This Side of Paradise" published! But Flandreau, one of the favorite contributors to The Saturday Evening Post" at the turn of the century, fell off the literary landscape, never fulfilling his writing potential. I was fortunate enough to stumble upon this book at my local used book store. These vignettes about Harvard student life at the end of the nineteenth century are nothing short of brilliant.
I ordered this book because I had read the author's Viva Mexico and I thought he was a clever writer. Well, yes, he is clever, but these vignettes make me feel like I have walked into a room where a conversation is already going on: I didn't hear the beginning and I won't hear the end.