FOR THE RECORD: Neil L. Rudenstine does not read People magazine. Ditto for Omni and Playboy. His taste in periodicals is much more highbrow: The New York times, Art in America, Harvard magazine. Overall, a most impressive reading list--although somewhat lacking in melodrama and intrigue.

His other tastes are somewhat eclectic, although no less cultivated. He likes ballet and modern dance, especially Trisha Braun and Merce Cunningham. He rarely watches TV--except when Wimbledon and the other big tennis matches are on. He's partial to omelettes at dinner and cold cereal for breakfast. He occasionally eats chocolate-chip cookies.

How do I know all these these things? I certainly didn't hear them from anyone in the super-secretive University administration. No, my information on Harvard's next president comes from a much more reliable source: Rudenstine himself.

A word of explanation is in order. A few weeks ago, I wrote a column in The Crimson describing my unsuccessful attempts to trace Rudenstine's activities on his home turf in New York. In it, I posed a number of questions about the mundane details of Rudenstine's life--the point being to emphasize that the Harvard community knew noting about the character of the man slated to take over as president.

Well, Rudenstine did the unexpected. He wrote back. More specifically, he sent me an eight-page handwritten letter responding, in minute detail, to the questions I had raised.

Yes, he takes anchovies on his pizza. Sugar and milk in his coffee. He describes himself as quite a good tipper in restaurants--perhaps because he is sensitive to his own working-call background.

Details like these are not mere trivia. They paint a revealing portrait of Harvard's next president that provides a much-needed touch of color to the tedious descriptions of his academic career. Knowing that Rudenstine likes chocolate desserts make me feel a little more comfortable about placing him in a position of power.

But as I read over Rudenstine's descriptions of himself, I felt something was missing. Did these details really tell me anything about Rudenstine's character? I might be willing to buy a used car from this man, but would I trust him with a $6 billion endowment? I wasn't sure. There had to be some way to find out more about the real Neil Rudenstine.

LONG DRAMATIC PAUSE. Here follows a brief etymology of the word "Character." As used today, the word simply refers to the fundamental qualities of a given individual. Cast your mind back a few centuries, however, and you will find another connotation: that of "handwriting."

The implication is clear. The individual nuances and details of a person's handwriting are closely linked to that person's "character"--at least in theory. With that in mind, I decided to take Rudenstine's letters to someone who could tell me a little about the character of the man behind them.

A little research in the New York phone book turned up the name of Sheila Kurtz, a certified master graphologist who has analyzed the scribblings of Dwight Gooden, Barbara Bush and Donald Trump, among others.

I know what you're thinking. Handwriting analysis? Why not simply take a tarot card reading and be done with it? But Kurtz is legit. She has a corporate letterhead and she's been on ABC news and everything. Trust me, she has a system.

Her analysis of Rundestine's letter highlighted 18 points--with "certain private omissions for public consumption."

Item number six in particular caught my eye. "Basically, he's a rebel at heart," Kurtz had written. One line beneath that, she noted that "he can be defiant to authority." Not exactly the kind of traits one would expect to see in the University's ultimate authority figure.

I decided to call Kurtz and probe a little deeper. What exactly did that mean, a "rebel at heart"?