Somebody donated a large sum of money to the university to promote the study of the Humanities. I was invited to attend the opening ceremony. I was invited in person, as one of the few faculty members. This is an important part of the story, so please keep it in mind.
The ceremony consisted of the presentation of a book that all incoming students will read and discuss in class to foster their love of the Humanities.
Hardcover, illustrated, here is the book:
I took a copy and looked at the list of “every country in the world.” Ukraine is not there but Russia is, with slobbering descriptions of how pretty everything is and how nice the people are.
The book itself is an exercise in narcissism and vulgarity. The author poses, mostly half-dressed, with body parts falling out of skimpy outfits. The countries she visited are a framework for her admiration of herself. It’s downright embarrassing to be caught leafing through this kind of book in a store, let alone in an academic setting.
But wait, it gets better. There’s another book that will be obligatory reading. It’s this one:
It wouldn’t occur to people (I hope) to invite a Jew to visit an event featuring a book gushing over the wonderfulness of Nazi Germany. Or invite a black professor to discuss a book on the joys of slavery. But insulting a Ukrainian, that’s perfectly fine. Some feelings matter more than others. But leaving aside my personal grievances, is it any wonder students aren’t interested in the Humanities? There’s no history here, no intellectual tradition. Just vapid, superficial crap with zero value. This is what the university thinks the Humanities are. It’s not Aristotle or Cervantes. Instead, it’s some dime-a-dozen online influencer and a faddy quack of an author who will be forgotten tomorrow.
I didn’t stay for the ceremony. The embarrassment was devouring me.
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