Terence Kealey, Vice Chancellor of The University of Buckingham, has kindly taken time out of his busy schedule to warn his colleagues of the dangers of lust in the lecture theatre.
...what happens when the natural order is disrupted by faculty members who, on parking their cars, head for the students' bedrooms?
What indeed, Terence?
The great academic novel of the 19th century was George Eliot's Middlemarch. The great academic novel of the 20th century was Malcolm Bradbury's The History Man. Both books chronicle lust between male scholars and female acolytes, and I expect that the great academic novel of the 21st century will describe more of the same. So, why do universities pullulate with transgressive intercourse?
Why is the overarching narrative, the only relationship conceivable between teacher and student, that of the male scholar and the female "acolyte"? Women are scholars too, my friend. And, here's a little secret for you: not all female students are devoted acolytes. In fact, some of them - and Herstorian is just taking a wild stab in the dark here - think you're a pompous pontificating little prick. Hmmm....Good SAT word there with pullulate, though. But too bad - Herstorian says: you're still a dick. Let's read on!
The fault lies with the females.
Oh, dear!
...girls fantasise. This was encapsulated by Beverly in Tom Wolfe's novel I Am Charlotte Simmons, who forces herself on to JoJo, the campus sports star, with the explanation that "all girls want sex with heroes". On an English campus, academics can be heroes.
Herstorian gets the impression Terence really wants to be a Hero. Tom Wolfe, too.
Normal girls - more interested in abs than in labs, more interested in pecs than specs, more interested in triceps than tripos - will abjure their lecturers for the company of their peers, but nonetheless, most male lecturers know that, most years, there will be a girl in class who flashes her admiration and who asks for advice on her essays. What to do?
Ahem, we'll just leave the whole "calling women girls" thing slide. Herstorian would hate to be thought of as one of those strident, nit-picking feminazi types. Oh, horrors! However, Herstorian would like our friend Terence to define normal girls. Herstorian thinks of herself as a normal girl, and she couldn't care less about abs, pecs, or triceps. She is, however, quite embarrassed that all of those times she asked for advice on an essay, she was coming on to her lecturer! What a little slut! And here she thought she was just being a conscientious student.
So, what advice does Terence have for his poor academic heroes, especially those cursed - one might even say pullulating - with treacherous normal-girl-distracting abs, pecs and triceps?
Enjoy her! She's a perk. She doesn't yet know that you are only Casaubon to her Dorothea, Howard Kirk to her Felicity Phee, and she will flaunt you her curves. Which you should admire daily to spice up your sex, nightly, with the wife.
Yup, I'm afraid so. As in Stringfellows, you should look but not touch.
Herstorian has several fancy degrees (but no job....hmmmm) and is saddened to realize that all these years, to her male lecturers, she was just a perk. Not a person. Just a perk with no passions, no interests, no opinions.
Terence has defended his article by saying it is just humour deployed to make the point that academics and students shouldn't sleep together. But things are funny for a reason. They are funny because they reveal a truth. The male academics that would find this article funny do so because, deep down, they really do think of their female students as voluptuous, wanton Dorotheas, Felicitys and Beverlys. The humour of the article comes from the fact that Terence has transgressed the social boundaries that keep those thoughts hidden.
Terence is right. It is just a humourous article. For some. It's funny. But it shouldn't be.
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