Redeeming Features

On page 12 of the June issue of this journal there appeared an advertisement for a recent publication: the 1976 Dartmouth Alumni Directory. Surrounding Nancy Elliott, director of Alumni Records, were stacks of what seemed to this trusting alumnus to be large, hardcover books. Yet the directory I received early this summer was a small (a mere 384 pages) softcover volume. At least it had a green cover.

I had been hoodwinked before, but by a swindler of the first order. In April 1974, Richard Nixon had addressed the nation on television, to announce that he was releasing over 1,000 pages of tape transcripts. Piled at his left were 26 voluminous, handsomely covered notebooks. But what the Government Printing Office delivered on the morrow to the Congressional office where I was interning was only a blue softback book no larger (or more revealing) than the Washington telephone directory.

To be duped a second time, this time by Dartmouth! But I shouldn't have been surprised. Nixon had his Watergate and Waterville (N.H., that is) has its Elliott. The nefarious Nancy and I have been conducting a cordial war since she first saw me snooping around her office allegedly doing research for an ALUMNIMAGAZINE story.

I thumbed through my copy of the directory and discovered that she had had the last word in our verbal sparring match (until, of course, this little bit hits the DAM). I looked under the "S" listings for my name, for I am now a Dartmouth graduate and I have the tassel from my $9 cap and gown to prove it. Not surprisingly, Miss Elliott omitted me — purposely, I'm sure — along with all the members of the Class of 1976. Her lame excuse? The book went to press in February. How transparent!

Miss Elliott has produced a flawed piece of work. She has broken nearly all of the fundamental principles of writing. Not only does she confuse the reader with 37,000 different characters but she also disrupts the unities of time and place. On page 138, to take one of many examples, she uses 167 characters from some 30 states (plus one each from the District of Columbia, Puerto Rico, England, and Uruguay), spanning decades and decades.

There are some redeeming features of the book, however. This edition contains alphabetical listings by class, as well as overall; the geographical breakdown offers untold delights. If you have a curious streak or an oppressively boring social life, you can learn that the largest number of alumni living in one state is 5,246 (New York) and that New York, Massachusetts, and California are the most popular states for Dartmouth graduates. And if you've got a few moments to kill you can learn that four Dartmouth alumni live in the Middle East nation of Lebanon (though they've probably left by now) while 43 live in Lebanon, New Hampshire. Only two live in Norway, Maine, but 31 in the Scandinavian nation. With a calculator and the occupation listing at the front of the book you can determine that almost one fifth of Dartmouth's graduates are either doctors or lawyers, that there are more doctors than retirees among Dartmouth alums, and that only 16 of Dartmouth's 37,000 alumni list an elected government office as their occupation. At least one CIA agent who listed education as his occupation in the last edition of the Directory now simply indicates he holds an appointive government job.

Yes, despite its faults, the Directory is a cornucopia of information about Dartmouth alumni from A to Z or, if you prefer, from Dr. Thomas M. Aaberg '58 to Stanley Zyskowski '30. It is not bed-time reading, but it's more interesting than the Buffalo phone directory and it could even be rated as handy if you want to find a classmate's address.

So there, Miss Elliott.

ALUMNI DIRECTORY Edited by Nancy L. ElliottDartmouth, 1976. 384 pp. $10

David Shribman appeared in these pages lastyear in the guise of undergraduate editor.