ABSTRACT
Introduction Fundamentally, the department (and indeed the university itself) was unashamedly elitist. Since only a tiny proportion of school-leavers went on to university . . ., academics could persist in the conviction that they were catering for the brightest and most dedicated. That attitude manifested itself in all sorts of ways, not the least in the apparent indifference to students, for which university people were to be so strenuously criticised in later years. There was indeed an icy, magisterial disdain in much of their dealings with us. And yet few of us resented it, because it was recognised by many – certainly by me – as a sign of respect. It was a wonderful liberation to be left to your own devices, without the watchful eye of those in charge. It seemed to mark more surely than any other ceremony our entry into the adult world, our being responsible for ourselves. That independence came at a price, it is true . . . Of course, the examinations in November revealed all: those who failed to meet rigorous standards could expect little mercy. Yet none of us would have imagined that the responsibility was anyone’s but ours. Most understood that our teachers equipped us with the means of meeting the standards required of us. To have taken steps to supervise our
of good manners – or intolerable intrusion.
