<p>Hey,</p>
<p>I applied ED to the big Green and am wondering what my chances are.</p>
<p>I have a 1470(720 math, 750 verbal)</p>
<p>My sat2s are 730 in writing and 620's in math and literature.</p>
<p>My gpa is, I admit, a bit low for Dartmouth( 3.8).
I am taking all AP and honors classes this year and was junior year as well. My teacher recs are very good, I am sure.</p>
<p>I AM A LEGACY and, after sending my college essay to a former prof of comparitive lit at dartmouth, as well as other writing samples, he wrote a letter to the dean of admissions(Fustenberg), whom he knows personally, and told him that he would love to have me in one of his classes. This, along with my being a legacy, I hope will be beneficial.</p>
<p>Finally, I think my essay to be quite unique and from the heart. I hear the essay is a big factor. Here it is. Please read and let me know what u think my chances are??
Thanks much,
kmurp</p>
<pre><code>Until my second year of high school, I was never what one would call a reader. In a state of ignorance that I hope has at least slightly improved, I failed to see literature as anything more than an antiquated means by which to tell a story. Then, in my sophomore year, a thought occurred to me. A mere whim at the time, this thought has hardened in the past two years into a belief that, at present, resides deep in my heart. This belief is that, through human experience, relationships, and contemplation of art, one can come to know everything that he or she must know about this world. As I progressed in my high school years, however, I found that this conviction clashed with the attitudes of various groups of people who had been shaping my mind for years. For example, I had often been told that if one wanted to have a religious or enlightening experience, he or she could merely open up and talk to God. I had a problem with this. I saw this attitude as discouraging the seeking of truth through the means by which I believed truth was obtained: art, philosophical thought, and conversation. Suddenly, quite confused, I began to read.
</code></pre>
<p>First, through the eyes of Ishmael, I met Ahab, the hero-villain of Moby Dick. In reading the book, I forged my first intellectual relationship with a literary character. Ahab fascinated me because my attitude toward him was so ambivalent; while he was clearly a menace, leading almost the entirety of his crew to seaborne deaths, I developed an admiration for him. I identified with him. When he says to Starbuck, Id strike the sun if it insulted me, I delighted in his insistence on the dignity of humankind. I was, at once, terrified of this obsessive monomaniac and applauding this obsessive monomaniac. As I became intrigued with Melvilles great protagonist, I discovered that to come to know a character is to come to a better knowledge of oneself. Furthermore, it was Herman Melville who showed me that literature is, by nature, a reflection of life. I liked that idea and continued to read. </p>
<p>Following my perusal of Moby Dick and a contemplation of Ahab, I realized how limited my knowledge of human nature was. Hoping to learn more about what it means to be human, I turned to Homer. Reading The Iliad was the most profound encounter with art that I have ever had. I learned much about humanity, divinity, and the beauty of it all. Homer revealed to me the fact that life is constant motion and that this is, in itself, beautiful; in The Iliad, humans and gods are in continuous conflict, yet this perpetual opposition is portrayed as being an essential and beautiful part of earthly life. As I came to know the poetry of Homer, I came to the conclusion that the force of beauty is ubiquitous and that it is our duty, as humans, to search for this beauty and to express it through art, poetry, or conversation. Just as the Argives made great sacrifices to the gods, so must we find Gods beauty and, then, make our own beauty as an offering to God, as well as to our fellow human beings. </p>
<p>With the fire kindled by these first two literary experiences burning in my soul, I went on to read many of the books of Mann, Dickens, Twain, Joyce, and others. These books have only strengthened my original conviction that the quest for truth can be fulfilled if one searches deep enough, for they have taught me much. Yet, my quest, far from over, is no longer such a desperate one, trying instead to focus and reflect upon the beauty of each person and thing I encounter. As my passion for literature has matured, I have realized that beauty and truth are everywhere, that, as James Joyce put it, God is a shout in the street.</p>