9/10/2023 0 Comments Slip box notes![]() He told me that he grew up in a house without books. But he nodded and his face fell into an expression I recognized from class. Surrounded by the evidence of real scholarship, I suspected that my half-preening request was vulgar and silly. What did I want to talk about? Tasting my first sour taste of imposter syndrome, I repeated my question about a book list. The room smelled of paper and ink and tea.Ī new conviction structured the next decade of my life: The un-annotated life was not worth living Later I realized it was a hanging desk he could pull into place near his right hand to take notes without leaving the chair. A strange wooden contraption hung from the wall beside him. He made us tea, then he told me to sit on the couch while he settled into his reading chair, a piece of furniture evidently much used, creased where he sat, dimpled and shiny on the arms where he rested his elbows. I pretended to need it, just so I could check. The shelves began in the entryway, continued down every hall, lined all four walls of the living room, the kitchen, and I could only assume the bedroom. When I arrived at his house, I was stunned by his library. ![]() Would he give me a big list of serious history books to read? He responded by inviting me to tea. ![]() After a few weeks in his class, inspired, I went to see him during his office hours. Seating himself below the amphitheater of expectant faces, he would launch into exactly 90 minutes of sparkling anecdotes studded with precise dates and proper names, revealing at every turn a natural storyteller’s flair for the phrase, the punch line, and the sensuous detail. One of my undergraduate history professors was a charismatic lecturer.
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