Tigers: "did He who made the lamb make thee?"

You may recall some time ago I made a brief survey of the faces and forms of tiger iconography at Princeton. At that stage we bid adieu to one mystery, or more appropriately, in line with a famous Pkunk saying^*, one aspect of a greater enigma. I'm pleased to say that further research has once again expanded the frontiers of knowledge. And I didn't even have to buy the book -- this book:

For, you see, I found this capsule review:

"Where Are The Tigers?", a children's book written by alumnus Mandy Lee Berman '92 tells the story of a little boy named Freddie and his trip to Princeton for Reunions Weekend with his parents. Young Freddie soon becomes confused, having taken his parents literally when they promised him he would see tigers at their destination. But he soon comes to understand that these "tigers" are the people he sees everywhere – Princetonians are "tigers" for life.

Satisfied, Freddie dons a tiger costume and joins in the fun. "I'm a tiger, too!" he says. Berman's picture-book charmingly captures the excitement and spirit of the weekend, a hallmark of Princeton tradition, showing everything from the famous P-rade to the invasion of alums in flashy orange and black blazers.

I guess that about says it.



^* namely: "The mysteries of the universe -- try to solve them, but can you? -- nope, they're mysteries."

Postscript. For the record, let's not forget this most recent example. Oh, Professor Albert, what immortal hand or eye could frame thy fearful symmetry?

Unrelated post-postscript. Looks like I got my U.S. tax refund yesterday. That's a little weight off my mind. With so much bureaucracy there's always one or two things that seem like they might be a little off. I suppose with the successful conclusion of this episode I should forgive all the numbskulls who made the process more stressful than it had to be with their irrelevant advice and threatening letters. On the other hand, said refund is about seven dollars greater than advertised. I feel a little like Chekhov when he saw the plaque reading "S.S. Botany Bay."