Princeton in print

Despite worldwide renown, it is never Princeton's academia that seems to come up in literature. The University's formidable intellectual prowess, although impressive, is old news.

Now, authors of all types show more interest in what goes on at Princeton outside the ivory tower. Alumni and strangers alike have picked up on some of the traditions, actual and legendary, that characterize the University.

Take, for example, "Where Are The Tigers?", a children's book written by alumnus Mandy Lee Berman '92 which tells the story of a little boy named Freddie and his trip to Princeton for Reunions Weekend with his parents. Young Freddie soon becomes confused, having taken his parents literally when they promised him he would see tigers at their destination. But he soon comes to understand that these "tigers" are the people he sees everywhere – Princetonians are "tigers" for life.

Satisfied, Freddie dons a tiger costume and joins in the fun. "I'm a tiger, too!" he says. Berman's picture-book charmingly captures the excitement and spirit of the weekend, a hallmark of Princeton tradition, showing everything from the famous P-rade to the invasion of alums in flashy orange and black blazers.

Despite being intended for children, "Where Are the Tigers?" shows all the same fondness for Princeton tradition as many other more adult-oriented books—such as the recent "The Rule of Four." Ian Caldwell '98 writes of some of the more colorful Tiger traditions. In one chapter, he describes the now-extinct Nude Olympics, in which the entire sophomore class traditionally gathered for a naked party in the Holder courtyard upon the first snowfall of the year.

Caldwell also manages to perfectly capture the boisterous stereotype of Tiger Inn, through an invented (but conceivable) rowdy ritual, supposedly performed every Holy Thursday. Members dress up as Jesus' 12 apostles, togas and all, and teasingly claim that the Son of God himself joined T.I., causing the other eating clubs to turn "jealous Ivy green."

Other authors have captured an aspect of Princeton's tradition that has been the same from the beginning: its Gothic beauty. In Pamela Thomas-Graham's murder mystery ,"Orange Crush," protagonist Veronica Chase marvels at Princeton's idyllic appearance.

"It was still a dream of an Ivy League college: towering elm trees, flagstone walkways, stately Gothic buildings," she muses. "If you closed your eyes and tried to conjure up the ultimate bucolic college campus, this would be it."

F. Scott Fitzgerald's This Side of Paradise extends this ideal of collegiate perfection to include the entire student body as well. Fitzgerald's Princeton is a world of handsome and sophisticated intellectuals, "pleasantly blasé and casually critical...their attitude a mixture of critical wit and tolerant amusement."

The protagonist, Amory Blaine, exalts Princeton's "lazy beauty, its half-grasped significance, the handsome prosperous crowds." Above all, he is enamored of the "breathless social system, that worship of the bogey 'Big Man.'"

Fitzgerald infuses the clubs with an air of romance through his eloquent descriptions: "Ivy, detached and breathlessly aristocratic; Cottage, an impressive mélange of brilliant adventurers and well-dressed philanderers; Tiger Inn, broad-shouldered and athletic, vitalized by an honest elaboration of prep-school standards; Cap and Gown, anti-alcoholic, faintly religious and politically powerful; flamboyant Colonial; literary Quadrangle; and the dozen others, varying in age and position."

A preoccupation with the Princeton eating clubs is definitely the norm rather than the exception when it comes to books about Princeton. While many authors refer to the system with awe and adulation, criticism of its supposed elitism also abounds.

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The predominant authorial attitude toward "the Street" is a sort of ambivalence, fascination mingled with disgust. Princeton in literature is both an idyllic society badly in need of preservation and a stubborn bastion of prejudice badly in need of renovation.

That ambivalence torments Amory Blaine in particular. He is outraged at the injustice of this social stratification but desperately desires to reach the top of it.

"Oh, it isn't that I mind the glittering caste system," he admits to a friend during his freshman year. "I like having a bunch of hot cats on top, but gosh, Kerry, I've got to be one of them." When his turn to bicker comes, Amory accepts a bid from the "supercilious Cottage Club."

The four modern Princetonians in "The Rule of Four" exhibit much of the same ambivalence about the clubs that Blaine felt. Caldwell pokes fun at club traditions but also idealizes the glamour of formals in his description of an Ivy Club ball.

He also criticizes the limitations the clubs impose: "According to administrators, the eating clubs at Princeton are an 'upperclass dining option,'" his narrator explains. "The reality is that the eating clubs are basically the only option."

Throughout her visit to Princeton, Thomas-Graham's protagonist, Harvard Professor Veronica Chase, also has difficulty coming to terms with the system. She repeatedly cites examples of the University's "clubbiness," claiming the social structure is "carefully calculated to preserve barriers between the boarding school establishment and the rest."

On the one hand, the many conflicting descriptions of "the Street" create a certain awe and romanticism around the Princeton social scene. Readers and visitors to campus are certainly impressed that Princeton kids party in retired mansions. But, unfortunately, these descriptions can also propagate vicious and not entirely true stereotypes about Princeton.

In the opening lines of "The Sun Also Rises," Ernest Hemingway writes: "Robert Cohn was once middleweight boxing champion of Princeton. Do not think I am very much impressed by that as a boxing title, but it meant a lot to Cohn. He cared nothing for boxing, in fact he disliked it, but he learned it painfully and thoroughly to counteract the feeling of inferiority and shyness he had felt on being treated as a Jew at Princeton."

Princeton has faced a similar stereotype of intolerance in recent novels. In "Orange Crush," Thomas-Graham's protagonist frowns upon the relatively small African-American population and the visible unhappiness and timidity of those black students she does encounter.

"At Princeton, the black people always stare," she writes. "They do it intensely, almost longingly. As if they are hoping to find kinship, or to express solidarity. When living in a small community dominated by blond conservatives, perhaps even the most culturally integrated African-American starts to long for a glimpse of brown skin and dark hair."

True or not, this literary stereotype has many of the same negative effects as those stemming from the portrayal of the eating clubs. The Princeton community can only hope that it does not deter students of all races and backgrounds from coming to the University.

Ultimately, fictional portrayals of Old Nassau provide a challenging yet fair assessment of the good and bad of Princeton. Authors do not hesitate to put the University under the lens of literary scrutiny, displaying its weaknesses but also immortalizing its strengths in eternal literary glory.