Now more or less post-concussion, I'm getting back to work with Helen Morales, with whom I co-wrote a
letter to TLS a few weeks ago, on the possible rescue of Howard University's Classics department.
When I teach the graduate survey of Latin literature, as I'm doing this term, I find it difficult to take it seriously as work: it's too close to sheer pleasure. The imperial canon is fascinating, the state of scholarly criticism is generally high, and the students (invested in doing the reading as preparation for their exams) have interesting things to say. Unfortunately the concussion has put some pressure on that preparation, and put a serious crimp in my other reading, so along with Seneca's
Thyestes, this week I did little more than indulge myself with watching one of the very few television
shows I take real delight in, no doubt in part for its
slash value (see my earlier comments on Patrick O'Brian).
On a more adult note, I made notes for future reading: Jane Kneller's
Kant and the Power of Imagination; Nightingale and Sedley's
Ancient Models of Mind; and Jim Porter's huge new book on Greek aesthetics.
Tonight: John Adams'
Nixon in China.
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