Common Stock
Atlantic, The, February, 2001 by Cullen Murphy
A few weeks ago emissaries from the game show Jeopardy! swept through a quadrant of rural Connecticut, chumming for contestants, and one of my sisters signed up for a quiz. She did pretty well, though she wasn't tendered an invitation. Afterward, at a family gathering, we fielded some of the questions.
Hamlet's mother and father? City in South Africa reminiscent of flowers? French word for a newborn's wardrobe? Battle where Cervantes lost the use of his hand? I would like to report that we shouted as one, "Gertrude and Hamlet!" "Bloemfontein!" "Layette!" and "Lepanto!" In truth, we presented a pathetic spectacle of mumbled feints and embarrassed glances. The moment brought to mind the passage in My Early Life (1930) in which Winston Churchill described his encounter with the Latin portion of the entrance examination for Harrow. I wrote my name at the top of the page. I wrote down the number ...