“It was around eight by nine feet and had one half-window that was always streaked with dirt. Whatever low-level natural light entered the office was therefore always refracted through a prism of smudged glass. When it snowed – and it snowed a lot in Boston that winter – the window disappeared, and I was reduced to making do with the fluorescent tubes that provided most of the interior light. ‘I’m afraid the new member of the department always gets the Black Hole,’ Daniel Sanders told me after o...ffering me the job. The job was an assistant professorship in English. It had fallen open when its previous holder – a specialist in early-twentieth-century American literature named Deborah Holder – had died of a fast-acting stomach cancer that had killed her just three months after its initial diagnosis. ‘Debbie was genuinely loved by everyone in the department,’ Sanders told me during our post-interview lunch. ‘She was just thirty-one, married with a young son, hugely popular with her students, and someone who genuinely had a major academic future ahead of her.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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