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GENTLEMEN: I must confess serious doubts about the efficacy--or even the integrity--of the "classic" exam period editorial, "Beating the System," you reprinted recently. I almost suspect this so-called "Donald Carswell '50" of being rather one of Us--the Bad Guys--than one of you. If your readers have been following Mr. Carswell's advice for the last 11 years, then your readers have been going down the tubes. It is time to disillusion...
Artful equivocations are even worse; lynx-eyed sly little rascals that we are, we see right through them. (Up to exam 40. Then our lynx eyes droop, and grading habits relax. Try to get on the bottom of the pile.) Again, it is not that A.E.'s are vicious or ludicrous as such; but in quantity they become sheer madness. Or induce it. "The 20th century has never recovered from the effects of Marx and Freud." (V.G.); "But whether or not this is a good thing or a bad thing is difficult to say." (A.E.) Now one such might...
Early tomorrow morning, hundreds of students will wake up, grab breakfast and trek through the slush to sit for a final exam. It is a ritual that will be repeated tens of thousands of times in the next 10 days, as first-years and seniors, Quad and Mather residents alike find out whether those hours of cramming and concentration will...
...tried time and again to address the challenges of finals season. The essay below, "Beating the System," by Donald Carswell '50, was awarded the Dana Reed Prize for undergraduate writing in 1951; it has been reprinted on this page as a service to readers annually at the start of exam period ever since. In 1962, Carswell's piece provoked one anonymous grader to submit a lengthy letter in an attempt to set the record straight...
...worst part is, it's really not so bad-at least it wouldn't be if everyone didn't continue to point out to me just how bad it is. Some of my relatives, who smilingly call our fall semester exam system "torture", unintentionally rub salt in an open wound. Most of the friends I've kept from high school are used to my touchiness on this issue by now. They still ask how long I'll be in town for, but they only raise their eyebrows or pat me comfortingly on the back in response. But by then...