All students share scholarly struggles, so, you might assume that the section titled "academics" might be more complete. In fact, only 10 concentrations are represented by photos of 15 of Harvard's most noted professors. Only two of those 15 stars are science professors--so if you studied math, physics or biology, don't waste any time looking for familiar faculty faces.

THE YEARBOOK does have space and deadline concerns. What space and time the editors did have could have been better used.

For one thing, they could have shortened the "Prologue" and used the space for other organizations. The "Chronology" (which isn't chronological, but why nitpick?) is supposed to be a trip throught the 350-year history of our college. Yet interspersed among the interesting histories and old photos are artistic pictures of autumn leaves, snow covered rocks, or shadowy, unrecognizable paths.

Also, many of the objects represented are present in multiple pictures in the section--there are at least four pictures of Memorial Hall, and no less than five shots of crew events.

Likewise, there are 22 pages of "Epilogue," an esoteric display of some fantastic photography. Most of this section belongs in a book of photography. In 30 years, the artsy pictures of sleeping people, lobster traps, and brick walls will not draw me down memory lane. They will mean nothing to me as I sit with my grand-daughter on my knee and remember my college years. They don't serve the purpose of a yearbook--to provide a record of the college experience.

Looking for other ways to squeeze space? There are six full pages of football pictures--from the three-page team section to three-page coverage of The Game.

Oh, and the omitted Spring sports? Well there is a picture of the shanties and Ivory Tower in the book. The picture couldn't have been taken before April 16 because the Open University wasn't constructed yet. So spring team photos could have made the yearbook's pages.

If you're worried that the spring sports sections wouldn't have been complete because the seasons weren't over, maybe you're right. The problem could have been solved by leaving them out altogether and mailing a "Spring Sports Supplement" sometime in the summer. The supplement could be affixed to the yearbook, and each class would then have their own senior year records in their yearbooks, instead of last year's.

Well, maybe extracurriculars, concentrations and sports really aren't the necessary memories. Candid snapshots are also wonderful mnemonic devices.

The problem, though, is that almost all of the candids are of underclassmen--very few are of the graduating class. Somehow I doubt that the few sophomore and junior faces dwelling on the pages of the book successfully represent the numerous memories of the class who bought the yearbook--the class of 1986.

I'M SURE THE yearbook editors and staff put tremendous effort into the book. And it's a good book--it records much of what Harvard is about. But it's not a good yearbook for the Class of 1986. Too much of what that class is about has been left out.

What's unique about yearbooks is that they are dedicated to the class they are written for. There are plenty of books about Harvard. Nowhere else can the class of 1986 find a personal record of their class memories. As I hear comments on the "Three Hundred Fifty" from my senior friends who will be leaving me tomorrow, I hear complaints that their book doesn't focus on them, but on an institution that has countless publications about its history already.

I hope that next year I don't feel the same remorse.

Jennifer M. O'Connor '87 is a member of Perspective, Response and the Radcliffe Novice Crew and concerned about being entirely omitted from the next yearbook.