Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ

I usually don't write reviews, but..


Nostalgy for something you never experienced is a curious feeling. This book tells us about a world that has dissappeared. A world of arrogant French intellectuals debating abstract theories and declaring that everything must be destroyed before it can be built again. A world of old-school university teachers who didn't seem to give a damn whether their students are following them or not. A world of lenghty discussions, very erudite and very irresponsible about the latest intellectual trends. A world where it was taken for granted everyone in higher education knows the Western Canon. A world where the most gifted students would choose careers in the academia or the administration over investment banks. A world of the welfare state, of trade unions and mass politics. Finally, a world of something as exciting as the sexual revolution which ironically signalled the inevitable end of the era.

It was also a world of casual racism, a world of casual sexism. A world where homosexuality did not exist. A world where students could seriously support some of the most horrible dictatorships of history. A world where to proclaim the greatness of the Chinese cultural revolution was trendy. A world where white old men were the norm and few questioned it. A world where individuality was frowned upon and in the conflict between individuality and security, security was preferred to the point of dullness and homogeneity. A world where something as ridiculous as Paris -68 could seem important while students who claimed to be communists ignored what was going on in Prague, or indeed called those who really were fighting for real liberty revisionistic traitors.

Thus was the world of post-war modernity . For me to feel nostalgic about it is indulgent and privileged. Much has become better after that. But it was also a world of certainty, of the belief in progress, of the idea that intellectual discussion and ideas in themselves matter. That the world will improve and we humans know how to do that. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. May the arrogance never be back. But sometimes one can't help hoping that we did not know what we know now, no matter how indulgent and selfish such a thought is.