The Right Coast

March 03, 2004
 
Wolf and Bloom
By Tom Smith

Slate puts it pretty well. In my hopelessly un-PC way, I wonder why, if beauty is a myth, why does Ms. Wolf appear to be such a babe in her PR photos? (Oh I'm sorry. I forgot. It must be my and other men's fault that Ms. Wolf feels the need to be professionally groomed. Mea maxima culpa. Where did I put that scourge?)

Call me cynical, but I suspect the pain Ms. Wolf was enduring was that of being out of the limelight for a while. Now she's on the cover of New York magazine, and we can all marvel at the shock, the horror that a famous professor groped her after getting drunk with her in her apartment 20 years ago. Bloom was supposed to be there to read Wolf's poetry, so he cannot be blamed for getting drunk. No, I have never read any of Ms. Wolf's poetry. I've never had my arm cut off either, but I can tell you I have a good idea it would be awful, and I would polish off a bottle of scotch just to be on the safe side, and the same goes for if for some dreadful reason I was obliged to read Ms. Wolf's poetry. This is no excuse for Bloom's alleged thigh grope. Maybe Professor Bloom should have his hand cut off. Maybe Ms. Wolf should be awarded the babe-victim of the century prize. Maybe flabby old professors and attractive young students should not go off to apartments and get drunk together. Maybe, just maybe. Just an ever so timidly made suggestion by a crusty old Republican who would die before he would willingly make a feminist mad at him. Maybe she should fly to Africa and consult with whats-her-name, Kerry's young squeeze? Maybe we should have an all Rhodes Scholar conference on sexual transgressions, with presentations by both Ms. Wolf and former POTUS Bill. It would all be very famous. If Wolf feels the need to be more famous, why doesn't she write another book. That's what Bloom does. And I know it's an obvious point, but I'm sorry, I just can't get too exercised any more about famous feminist victimhood from dirty old men after big bad Bill. The accusations that Bill had raped women were at least as well supported as this story on Bloom's drunken pass, and the silence from the feminists was deafening. But that was then, and this is now, I guess. Pardon me while I do my best to ignore you.