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I just finished The Secret History by Donna Tartt. Anyway, what really struck me was the contrast between lyrical beauty in the classical sense and the harsh bitterness of reality. It reminds me of what they say about the Ivory Tower, the secluded academics living and breathing the words of Homer and Virgil (well, perhaps not Virgil since Virgil or the Aeneid is more concerned with setting a legitimate foundation for Rome, and not so interested in exploring the terrifying beauty of war and sacrifice, say), sipping wine in the afternoon and nibbling on crackers while discoursing on how the structure of a Dante or a Milton supports the thematics. It reminded me of all the philosophical questions with which undergraduates could concern themselves late into the night, with all the philosophers paraded before them -- Plato, Aristotle to name a few. It's interesting that the book was written in the 90's, when the humanities were still fashionable(?) These days the quantitative disciplines seem to have crept up on the humanities and replaced them as the more "useful" majors.
But the story is also about belonging, or achieving a sense of belonging. The main character wanted to belong to a special clique of rather secretive Greek students. He was from a different social class, not having gone to the most expensive boarding schools and such. And he was flattered that he could belong, until he got the hint that all was a plot to commit the perfect crime, of which he was inextricably a part.
Anyway, I guess the book reminded me of why I did not want to go into academia in the humanities ultimately. I am just rambling here, so I will stop. In other news, the decision on the Affordable Care Act is coming out today!
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