381 CHRONICLESnwonderful sketch of the two Natashasncoming from who-knows-where to thenspontaneous party at the PushkinnHouse, Lyova’s place of employment.nTheir hair wrapped in gauze, they sitnbeside each other on a worn-out sofanpretending not to know why they arenthere and absolutely refusing to takenvodka; instead, they drink their teanfrom the saucers. Bitov would havendone better to trust his own masteryninstead of striving for more.nAna Selic is a freelance writer livingnin Rockford, IL.nPhi Beta KappanFakenby Jane GreernMost Likely to Succeed: SixnWomen From Harvard and WhatnBecame of Them by FrannSchumer, New York: RandomnHouse; $17.95.nWhen I was 11,1 saw a photo of thenRadcliflFe campus in fall, with a beautifulnlong-haired blonde in a plaid wool skirtnsitting on a flight of leaf-covered steps innfront of a red brick building. (FrannSchumer saw a similar picture.) A beautifulnlong-haired blonde is what I hopednto be someday, and I immediately startedna savings account in a toy safenlabeled “Effilcdar Dnuf” (the wordsnwere in code to fool my mother ornanyone else who might be snoopingnaround my room). Several weeks later, Inblew the whole cache at the swimmingnpool. Apparently I made a wise decision.nMost Likely to Succeed is a “goodnread.” Fran Schumer is intelligent, insightful,nand knows how to laugh atnherself and to recognize the folly of allnyouth. She has a fine way with wordsnand a witty turn of phrase as she takesnus through Radcliffe/Harvard 1970-74n(just one year’s difference from when Inwould have been there, had I persevered).nWe come to know — intimatelyn— Tess, Eleanor, Paige, Daisy, Felicity,nand the author, and to watch schools ofnmen swim naked through the co-edndorms. (” ‘I’m surprised grown-ups letnus behave like that,’ a friend commentednin later years.”) The girls are allnlikable, and wacky as can be: prodigiesnturned loose in Bedlam (Schumer wasna freshman at age 16). In the secondnpart of the book, she brings us up ton1984 in the lives of most of thesenwomen; one of them killed herselfnSchumer makes me remember whatnI’d rather forget; the way I felt at thensmall Midwestern state university Inattended but was too immature tonanalyze. She has captured the administration’snquick and incomprehensiblenwillingness to help students trash allnnorms and accepted values, the childrennaged 16 to 22 trying withoutnsuccess to get some limits imposednfrom above, the drinking, the classskipping,nthe lethargy, the selfinvolvement.nAnd the left-winged.nBomb-fearing despair, with no onen(except our parents, whom we werenthere to escape) to suggest that a littlenhard work, a little less self-analysis,nmight just do the trick. I came to likenthe young women in this book, andnwas glad to be reassured that most ofnthem grew up and learned to be happy.n”Six Women From Harvard andnWhat Became of Them”: A genuinenslice of life, an interesting piece ofnresearch, no? No. After I’d finished thenbook, I read the credits and found this:n”The individuals depicted on the followingnpages are composite figures,nbased on my observation of manynfriends and acquaintances, in collegenand elsewhere, across a number ofnyears. . . . My aim is not to offer anjournalistic account of the period, butnto tell a series of stories whose heartnand soul are true.” Well, the book’snheart and soul may be true, but its gutsnare phony, and I’m steamed. I’d assumednthe names were changed, butnnow I don’t know what to believe.nMost Likely to Succeed is fiction, withna blatantly false subtitle stuck on it. Asnan account of a real time, a realncampus, and real people, it would havenbeen fairly effective journalism. Asnfiction — and coy, dishonest fiction, atnthat — it fails because it has no point.nAnyone can lump together a bunch ofnreal traits and call the result a “composite”;nwith a composite and a quarter,nyou can make a phone call.nSchumer has reported for variousnnewspapers, been an editor at the BostonnGlobe, published fiction in all thenright places, won a Goodman LoannAward for fiction, and coauthorednMary Cunningham’s best-seller.nnnPowerplay. She’s a gifted writer, butnthe line between fact and fiction is notnnearly so fine as she pretends here.nJane Greer is editor of Plains PoetrynJournal.nNo Water innthe Winenby James L. SauernChesterton, Seer of Science bynStanley Jaki, Urbana and Chicago:nUniversity of Illinois Press.nStanley Jaki, a Catholic priest and anprolific historian of science, has producedna series of scholarly, at timesnplodding, essays derived from lecturesnhe delivered at Notre Dame. It purportsnto be the first full treatment of Chestertonnand science. He offers us a fairnpicture of the intuitive genius of Chesterton,nwhose common and artisticnsense allowed him to be both an interpreternas well as a champion of traditionalnscience, while standing as a causticncritic of the eugenicists and thosenwho would direct man’s developmentnalong “scientific lines.”nChesterton’s paradoxical Thomismndid not fail him when he dealt with thenspirit of modern science and the practicalnhorrors scientific mechanisms cannbring forth. As Jaki points out,n”Chesterton’s chief interest in sciencenalways centered on its possible threat tonthe freedom of the will,” that is, to thenpractical consequences of abstract scientificnpontification on the social, artistic,nand moral responsibility of beingnhuman. To Chesterton the consequencesnof science divorced from thendivine reason from which the worldnsprang must inevitably result in terriblencrimes.nIt must be understood that Chestertonnwas not anti-science; his enemy wasnscientism. “Scientism, or the claim thatnonly the scientific or quantitative methodnyields valid knowledge and reliablenvalue judgments,” says Jaki, “provokednChesterton to many devastating andnpenetrating remarks.” Of course, it didnnot take much to provoke Chesterton tonwisdom or at least wit. He rose to battlenthe giants of the new religion of scientificnreason with joyous fervor: Huxley,nSpencer, Haeckel, Bradlaugh, andn