One L - Scott Turow and Ahead of the Curve - Phillip Broughton

One L - Scott Turow
Non-Fiction
Paperback from Amazon - $11.16

Ahead of the Curve - Phillip Broughton
Non-Fiction
Hardcover from Amazon - $5.99!! (It's on sale right now!)

Buy them if: You want a travelogue-style look at the upper echelon graduate education

Don’t buy them if: You’re on the fence about attending business or law school and want some reassurance…

It’s a Hah-vahd two-fer!

It’s quite a testament to both the institution and students that both One L author Scott Turow and Ahead of the Curve author Phillip Broughton can publish these two books over 30 years apart, detailing experiences at two different Harvard graduate schools, and sound so remarkably like each other. The similarities that crop up between a law student in the mid-70’s and a business student midway through the first decade of the 21st century really hammer home this point - 'The more things change, the more they stay the same.' And while that phrase often has a negative connotation, I would say that when it comes to maintaining a tradition of academic excellence, maybe it’s not the worst thing in the world.

Of course, ‘academic excellence’ is really just a supposition, a reputation gained over the years and firmly attached to the Harvard name. Naturally, both authors are aware of this – and fully admit to reputation playing a significant part in their choice of school – but it’s their ability to look beyond the name and demonstrate what really lies at the core of this learning environment, good and bad, that make both One L and Ahead of the Curve such interesting pieces.

One L is the story of Turow’s first year at Harvard Law, one of the most rigorous academic years to be found in the world, while Ahead of the Curve details Broughton’s two years at the same institution’s MBA program. (Though his first year is given much more emphasis than his second.) Each relates their experience over the course of the books through anecdotes and observation, leaving the reader with a picture that, while perhaps technically incomplete and lacking in breadth of experience, is rich with the depth that can only come from personal experience.

Ironically, the books both have the feel of a travelogue. I say ‘ironically’ because each makes it a point to demonstrate how much time students at these schools spend staying in one place. But despite existing solely inside the ‘Harvard bubble,’ there is a journey here and each man sets off as you would for any other trip, with minimal equipment, a bit of family and plenty of trepidation.

For those who find joy in the details, neither book will disappoint. Fortunately, neither writer makes the mistake of providing lofty overviews of the schools. If that’s what you want, Harvard certainly publishes prospective student guides. What Turow and Burroughs DO give us is a worm’s eye view of the things you won’t get from a school catalog. The odd tradition of ‘Skydecks’ in the business school, where those from the back tiers of the classroom give out satirical awards to fellow classmates. Or perhaps the practice of hissing those in class who breach the social contract at Harvard Law? Strange, but true. The inclusions of these idiosyncrasies are vivid touches that demonstrate the oddities that emerge in even the most prestigious academic settings. I’m still not sure if these strange occurrences make the ivory tower that is Harvard more or less approachable, but as a reader, they bring about more fascination than I would have ever suspected. It’s enough to make me urgently curious about what weird stuff is hidden behind the walls of the Wharton School of Business or in the seminars of Georgetown Law.

Like all stressed out students the authors experience numerous ups and downs, and each is thrifty enough with their words to provide us with just enough context to understand them. We’re not made to sit through much academic jargon, only given enough to pique a curiosity in the subject at hand and understand the reasons behind behaviors and emotions. Indeed, though each author admits to changing names and combining personalities and incidents, the other characters are crucial to the stories being told here. The broad and diverse canvas of personalities at Harvard provides heroes, villains, sinners and saints. They’re enjoyable, human and even a little surprising.

I do believe there’s a natural, human inclination to look back with rosy hindsight at the difficulties we encounter. After all, it’s so much easier to downgrade a challenge upon completion. Or to recall negativity but blow it off as overwrought and unnecessary with a more distant perspective. That Burroughs and Murow avoid this is perhaps the single greatest strength of these books. Someone cavalierly explaining away a mental beat down as severe as Harvard grad school is misleading at best, boring at worst. Yet both authors write with a present feel that is fantastic and riveting. At times Murow quotes directly from the journal he kept in school and the desperation, fear and pessimism contained in these passages borders on disturbing. And THAT’s what keeps you coming back. It’s not quite the same as slowing for a car-wreck, but it’s damn close. For those who can’t decide if business or law school is for you, proceed through these sections of text with caution…

Like a topical ointment, results may vary amongst individuals, but I personally think the juxtaposition of each author’s unique experience within the framework of a set curriculum makes for captivating reading. Thankfully, each writer possesses skill with the written word and the text moves efficiently, at an ‘interest-maintaining’ pace... (Murow has gone on to author best-selling novels since his stint at HLS, and Burroughs came from a journalism background before pursuing his business education. Yeah, they know what they’re doing when it comes to arranging words...) Neither entered the schools intending to find book fodder, but found their experiences interesting enough to warrant these publications. I can’t help but wonder how many other stories belong to each of their classmates, but I am grateful that these two had both the skill and inclination to share theirs… Without being preachy, melodramatic or even egocentric, these books have captured the spirit, humour and downright terror of a Harvard graduate education. Would I want to go? Maybe, maybe not…but they’ve given me an awful lot to think about. And isn’t that exactly what schools and books are for?