In this timely book, historian James Axtell offers a compelling defense of higher education. Drawing on national statistics, broad-ranging scholarship, and delightful anecdotes, Axtell describes the professorial work cycle, the evolution of scholarship in the past three decades, the importance of “habitual scholarship,” and the best ways to judge a university. He persuasively confronts the critics of higher education, arguing that they have perpetuated misunderstandings of tenure, research, teaching, curricular change, and professorial politics.
When I started college (in 1998), higher education was under fire. The media, cultural critics, and politicians filled the air with urban legends about bloated lecture halls taught by scheming, leftist professors who prepared lectures only to brainwash before shirking their teaching duties to their TA's. On the way out the lecture hall doors, these professors would cash equally bloated pay checks, before hopping off to another country to enjoy their three month vacation. (All while calling it research.)
To answer this criticism, Professor James Axtell published a defense of the American university. Lovingly written to justify the existence of the current culture of American colleges and universities, while actively debunking current myths, 'The Pleasures of Academe' is a perfectly suited for those who love our institutions of higher learning. Divided into two parts, the first serves as both a history of the American college/university and also a reaction to the charges levied against it. While these are well conceived, they are a bit heavy and dense. The more enjoyable portion of the book is the section aptly titled 'Pleasures.' This serves basically as Axtell's memoir of his experiences in higher education, whether as a student, athlete, or a professional. My personal favorite was his passionate defense of the 'college town,' which I guess is natural for one who went to William and Mary.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book, but I also have the privilege of being able to associate it with its writer. Axtell was one of my favorite professors at William and Mary (though I know him only through my role as a work-study student for the history department...I was always too intimidated by his intellect to take a course.) He is the stereotypical tweed-clad professor...I always remember having conversations about how he only used lamps from home in his office, because the overhead lights were too 'institutional.' For those without this connection, or without a love of the university, this book may be a little too dense. In that regard, Axtell could be faulted for 'preaching to the choir.' But maybe that was his point all along, to reaffirm to the true believers their role in society.