Je lisais un article  sur « les 7 pêchés capitaux à l’université » quand le passage sur la luxure m’a fait tilté grincé des dents hurlé (j’ai surligné en gras ce qui m’a fait poussé des WTF).

Je l’ai traduit pour les non-anglophones (soyez indulgent, mes études sont loin derrière moi)

/…/ the universities are where the male scholars and the female acolytes are. Separate the acolytes from the scholars by prohibiting intimacy between staff and students (thus confirming that sex between them is indeed transgressive – the best sex being transgressive, as any married person will soulfully confirm) and the consequences are inevitable. The fault lies with the females.

The myth is that an affair between a student and her academic lover represents an abuse of his power. What power? Thanks to the accountability imposed by the Quality Assurance Agency and other intrusive bodies, the days are gone when a scholar could trade sex for upgrades. I know of two girls who, in 1982, got firsts in biochemistry from a south-coast university in exchange for favours to a professor, but I know of no later scandals.

But girls fantasise. This was encapsulated by Beverly in Tom Wolfe’s novel « moi, Charlotte Simmons« , who forces herself on to JoJo, the campus sports star, with the explanation that « all girls want sex with heroes« . On an English campus, academics can be heroes.

Normal girls - more interested in abs than in labs, more interested in pecs than specs, more interested in triceps than tripos - will abjure their lecturers for the company of their peers, but nonetheless, most male lecturers know that, most years, there will be a girl in class who flashes her admiration and who asks for advice on her essays. What to do?

Enjoy her! She’s a perk. She doesn’t yet know that you are only Casaubon to her Dorothea, Howard kirk to her Felicity Phee, and she will flaunt you her curves. Which you should admire daily to spice up your sex, nightly, with the wife.

Yup, I’m afraid so. As in Stringfellows, you should look but not touch. Be warned by the fates of too many of the protagonists in Middlemarch, The History Man and I Am Charlotte Simmons. And in any case, you should have learnt by now that all cats are grey in the dark.

So, sow your oats while you are young but enjoy the views – and only the views – when you are older. /…/

Cette merveilleuse prose nous est du par Terence Kealey, qui est vice-chancelier de l’Université de Buckingham, et l’auteur de Sexe, Science and Profits (2008).

J’ai failli perdre ma voix en lisant cet article. Bien que le fond soit « ne couchez pas à votre prof » (du moins, pas pour obtenir de meilleurs notes, vous avez un minimum d’amour-propre !) conseil dont je conviens, pour le reste,  je n’ai jamais lu un tel ramassis de conneries.

Et il se base sur quoi ? des romans… M’est d’avis que c’est lui qui fantasme sur ses étudiantes et pas l’inverse.

S’il est marié, je plains sa femme.  Ca vous dirait d’être marié avec un mec qui mate les filles la journée afin d’être excité le soir pour pouvoir remplir son devoir conjugal hebdomadaire en 3 mn.

Pour citer Bridget Jones, ce doit être « un hypotrophié du bulbe et du zobe »

Enjoy !