“Of the seven in the department others had stronger qualifications, and all but one lived alone, as she did, unmarried. (The solitary life was known to strengthen clarity of thought; Schopenhauer, Nietzsche, Kierkegaard, Spinoza, Simone Weil – and anyway who would live with those sorts of people? – and don’t forget Diogenes.) She knocked and went into L. K.’s office. This was Professor L. K. Thursk of the pullover and bulky shoes, whose long-awaited study of Georges Sorel had become something of... a myth – who swivelled side-on, as she entered, his hands pointing under his chin, an Indian prince wondering whether to give salaams. He was another one who had developed a hierarchy of throat-clearings, in his case necessary in the struggle to express even the most modest thoughts, for much of what composed the world was unsayable. He was like a plumber who had lost his tools. Erica though saw it more as a sort of fussy drapery from the bachelor life. If she didn’t want to do this, she didn’t have to.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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