Why aren't there more opportunities to pursue writing on a variety of competency levels? The immediate answer appears to be monetary. However, while most sources agree with Shore that "the English Department has no money to hire people to teach additional classes," some feel the budgetary hurdle could be overcome and that subtler reasons exist for limiting the size of the writing program.
Steven C. Fenichell '77, an English major in Option III, said last week that financial reasons are cited for limiting English C and Option III, but he thinks the department is "interested in making the process selective for its own sake."
Shore did not agree with Fenichell's view, but she said that part of the reason for such selectivity "might be to discourage people who want to take writing courses as a gut."
Another reason for limiting the size of writing classes was suggested last week by David Perkins, chairman of the English Department.
"The prospect of teaching a lot of students with very little talent is a dreadful one," he said, and most teachers would "quickly leave" if faced with such a situation, Perkins said.
Perkins said that "historically speaking" the creative writing program is "at a higher level of funding and staffing now than in the past." He added, however, that the department has a tight budget and could not allocate more funds to creative writing without detracting from some other area. "I hesitate to say we should do more, because then what should we do less of," Perkins said.
Granetz took a different view about the allocation of departmental resources.
"A definite division exists in the English Department between composition and criticism, and composition has not been given the money it needs" as a result, he said.
The question of a trade-off between writing and the department's other instructional responsibilities highlights a problem common to all the creative and performing arts at Harvard.
"Harvard is a first-rate research institution, a place for scholars," Byker said, describing the problem, "and creative functions are not particularly at home." He added that Harvard is not a "congenial place" for the arts because "the scholar's goal is to hold things static and study them, while the creator's goal is to confound the scholar."
However, some of the students most actively engaged in writing clearly perceive the existence of a definite bias against them among both faculty members and students. Sarah C. Binder '77, an Option III major, said last week "the rest of the department looks down on you as though you're not academic enough, and people say that what you write is not really a thesis."
Baumel also feels "looked down upon" by other English professors. She said that the people in Option III are "just as good, and I think better, academics than others in the English Department." She related a story about a fellow English major who, upon meeting her and learning she was in Option III, immediately launched into a "tirade about how we shouldn't graduate because we don't do anything."
Do the people in Option III "do anything?" Francis M. Pipkin, associate dean of the Faculty and chairman of the standing committee on expository writing, said last week that the Faculty is "really afraid of dilettantism" in the creative arts and shies away from teaching them because it is "harder to judge a substantial effort" in the arts than with scholarly work.
The writing concentrators clearly reject insinuations about the inappropriateness of their work. Binder said that producing a book of poetry for a thesis is a "Herculean task." She adds that others are "fooling themselves" if they think the students in the writing major are "given a break."
But she also feels that the option "doesn't do that much for you," that it only "legitimizes things I would do otherwise."
That may be the major advantage of Option III, legitimizing and providing time for writers. Those who were spurned by the selection process have not stopped writing. Harris Collingwood '78, who was denied admission to Option III, said last week that being in the major would be "convenient as hell, but not all that necessary."
Still, for many students at Harvard, unable or unwilling to compete for the attention of Harvard's handful of writing professors, unable to develop at the same rate or display the same talents as their contemporaries, the University atmosphere becomes stifling, discouraging rather than encouraging.
And Harvard's attitude is probably best summed up by Engel: "I don't think it's one of the prime objectives of the University to promote the growth of writers. If that happens, so much the better. There may even be some potential writers who get finished off by the atmosphere. In that way, the large University, for better or worse, is more like the world, which doesn't encourage people to engage in creative activities either."