TWENTY-FIVE YEARS from now the members of the Class of 1941 will be writing their biographies for their reunion reports, just as the class of 1915 (and Harry Pulham) was writing its life history for its reunion-last year. The chances are that the present crop of Seniors will look back in 1966 upon careers remarkably like that of H. M. Pulham '15. But at the same time it is probably that they will never tell that story as convincingly or as interestingly as does John P. Marquand in his latest book.

Harry Pulham is as Bostonian as the proverbial bean and the cod. He went to an exclusive private school, and, after his four years at Harvard, entered the investment business. He owns a summer house on the Maine coast and a winter house "in town." He sums up his whole political philosophy in one sentence: "I do not believe that either Mr. Roosevelt or Germany can hold out much longer and I confidently look forward to seeing a sensible Republican in the White House." On the whole his life is hardly distinguishable from those of his classmates.

But one does not read "H. M. Pulham, Esquire" for its story. Rather, one reads it for its light satire, its facile style, and, above all, its characters. Bo-Jo Brown, the college athlete, who is imbued with "the Class" and its reunion, is as unforgettable as Bill King, the rugged individualist, who is bored with the whole idea of the twenty-fifth and thinks Bo-Jo is "just a long cool drink of water." Marvin Myles, the girl (sic) with whom Harry first falls in love, is as intriguing a personality as Kay Motford, the girl he eventually marries, is conventional. And Harry Pulham himself, who is unable to break away from the traditions in which he was brought up, is genuine and convincing at all times. It cannot be denied that "H. M. Pulham, Esquire" is a crystal-clear delineation of the life of a Harvard man. Harry's story certainly is not to be read as a sure-fire formula for success in life, but just as certainly it is to be read for sheer enjoyment.