Smoked Ham

In the past three years the Dramatic Club, sole remaining remnant of the one-time famous Harvard drama department, has produced plenty of flop shows. The officers deserted their policy of trying out experiments for one of attracting the public with lighter, frothier material than Auden, Isherwood, and T, S. Eliot. Unfortunately, the compromise policy has fallen flat and the H. D. C. has lost the prestige of its old daring innovations without gaining any compensatory lucre at the box-office.

This fall, unwisely enough, the Club decided to go on with its compromise policy and even to outdo itself with a play of the Hasty Pudidg Club type. Not until after they had started rehearsals on their choice, Christopher Morley's "The Trojan Horse," did they think to consult their Faculty advisers. One of their three mentors, Professor Theodore Spencer, firmly put his foot down on the production of the show, terming it "trash."

Professor Spencer's verdict on the merit of "The Trojan Horse" is undoubtedly correct, but his right to call a halt to an H.D.C. production on literary grounds is certainly tenuous at best. The function of an adviser as far as censorship is concerned is to pass on pornography. If the amateur actors wish to continue on their road to hamdom, it is their privilege.