Remembering Clarel

About midway through Clarel’s first year at Harvard, Facebook began to sweep across the Yard. Seemingly ideally suited for freshmen, who tend to accumulate friendships like trading cards, Facebook quickly became a student-body sensation,en route to reshaping the social-networking world at large. It seemed like everyone in our class had created a Facebook profile by the end of freshman year. Except Clarel.

For someone so uniquely socially gifted, it was somewhat unexpected. Only a few months into our Harvard experience, Clarel had already emerged as one of the most likeable, most recognizable figures in Annenberg. With his infectious laugh and wide smile, Clarel brought joy to even the most mundane of activities. In many ways, he appeared the Harvard ideal: a natural leader, blessed with intelligence, creativity, and the capacity to bring large groups of people together with interests as varied as his own.

And though Clarel epitomized so much that was right about Harvard, he also marched to his own beat. While some undergraduates seemed to treat relationships as a means to an end, establishing contacts as a way to bolster social capital, Clarel simply valued the authenticity of true human connection. Whether it was an impassioned conversation in his Thayer entryway or a hard-fought pickup soccer game across the river, Clarel lived to experience people and share his love of life with others.

While some undergraduates turned to alcohol as a way to dull the intensity of Harvard’s climate, Clarel preferred to organize group outings into Boston, experimenting with new cultures and new cuisines. In fact, he loved nothing more than lively conversation around a dinner table: the cheerful banter of friends, punctuated with moments of deep insight. This, too, was the music he enjoyed.

And of course you can’t talk about Clarel without mentioning explicitly his love of food. Watching Clarel eat was a pleasure unlike any other–few men have ever sought to extract such energy and flavor from each emphatic bite. And perhaps no Harvard student in the storied history of overflow housing has ever utilized a DeWolfe kitchen with such vivacity and spirit, preparing curried chicken and rice for his privileged guests.

The loss of Clarel is tragic for everyone who knew him. In his honor, a Facebook group has been created to pay tribute to his memory, serving as a platform for all friends and classmates to share a story or remembrance. I would urge all such individuals to join and actively take part. However, to pay tribute to Clarel, this alone is not sufficient.

I can’t say with any certainty why Clarel never joined Facebook. But I do believe that he had an innate understanding of its limitations. For Clarel, keeping in touch was important, but touch itself–the warmth and intimacy of in-person engagement between friends–was something without substitute. I certainly am grateful that Clarel touched my life, as are so many countless others.

To celebrate Clarel, I would encourage that each of us find time in the coming weeks to gather a group of friends and enjoy a wonderful meal together. It was one of Clarel’s greatest joys.

BEN PURKERT ’07
New York City, NY
February 3, 2009