The Donaldson Controversy (4)

“Variable quality,” Prof Ambrose addressed the class. “Very variable quality.” He was feeding back on our first essays.  

“Watson, you’ve quoted large chunks of Donaldson.” 

“Well, he is our primary source,” said Watson. 

“Even so, I expect you to do more than quote large chunks of text without adding a single thought of your own. If I wanted to read Donaldson, I’d just read Donaldson.” 

I could see Turner grinning  as Watson received the critique. 

“I don’t know what you’re giggling about Turner,” Ambrose said. “Your essay’s just as bad, you’ve done exactly the same thing.” 

“I have not,” Turner protested. “I’ve not mentioned Donaldson once.” 

“You’ve done the same thing, but with Bennett instead of Donaldson. Long sections of quotes without a trace of your own viewpoint.” 

“But Bennett’s the best source,” said Turner. 

“He’s certainly better than you.”  Addressing the whole class he said. “You need to read around the subject, not just one source, and use your own brains, add your own opinions.  Like Mr Oblong here.”  He pointed me out. “This is the perfect essay, balanced, citing a variety of sources, prose not too wordy but not too blunt, to the point, but readably so.” 

I was red in the face by this point, and pleased when Ambrose continued with the lecture. Afterwards, I could see that Watson was in a furious mood. 

“Can you believe Ambrose,” he said to me.  “I can see you’ve been sucking up to him, with your ‘bit of Donaldson, bit of Bennett’ compromise.” 

“My Bennett hasn’t arrived yet,” I said. “I simply read around the topic.” 

“My father will be furious.  He’s friends with one of the governors, Ambrose will soon be put in his place.” 

I thought nothing more of this tirade and made my usual journey to the library. I was pleased to be informed that a Bennett had arrived, though not one I could take out. I was allowed the use of the book for two hours, and duly set to taking extensive notes. Before leaving I secured a similar reservation for the next day. 

“I won’t need to come to yours tonight,” I said to Miss Groves at lunch. 

“Oh,” she said. I could see the disappointment on her face. 

“No, the Bennett arrived in the library. I won’t need to borrow yours.” 

She laughed at this. “I’m sure we can find other things for you to do than read the Bennett,” she said. She then leaned in close and whispered her suggestions in my ear. 

“I’d like that,” I said. “I’d like that very much.” 

The following day I was surprised to see a new lecturer in charge of the class. 

“I’m Prof Harding,” he said. “Prof Ambrose is no longer taking this course. If you could all take out your Donaldsons and turn to page 18.” 

Turner, of course, took out his Bennett.  Prof Harding addressed him. “What on Earth’s that?” he said. 

“It’s a Bennett.  It covers the same material as Donaldson, but much more precisely.” 

“I don’t want to see any Bennetts in my class,” Prof Harding said. “Donaldson is the course text and I’ll be marking down anyone I see citing Bennett.” 

“That’s not fair,” Turner said. “Bennett’s a perfectly legitimate source.” 

“I’ll decide what’s fair and what’s legitimate,” Prof Harding said.  “Now put your Bennetts away and let me see you all with your Donaldsons from now on.” 

I let Miss Groves share my Donaldson, and Turner pretended to look over my shoulder at it whenever Harding glared his way. 

Harding continued the lecture, but rather than using his own notes, he read extensively from Donaldson, much to Turner’s irritation. 

“He won’t get away with this,” Turner said to me when the lecture ended. “We’re here to learn how to study history, not to quote huge chunks of text straight from a book.” 

“Isn’t that what you did in your essay?” I said. 

“Yes, but I was quoting Bennett.  You don’t get better than Bennett.” 

“Not much you can do about it anyway,” I said.  

“Au contraire, my father’s a member of the national union of lecturers and associated academics,  he’ll address this absurd Donaldson-obsession with university officials.” 

Watson was waiting for me outside, with his usual pair of sidekicks, all idiot-grinned with pleasure. 

“So much for your balanced approach, Oblong. I don’t think you’ll be getting top grades with Harding in charge.” 

“We’re here to learn history,” I said. “Not to repeat one-sided dogma. I’ll hardly be marked down for reading widely.” 

Unfortunately Watson proved correct, my next essay was marked down for ‘citing inappropriate sources’.   

Harding called Watson to the front of the class.  “This young man has written the perfect essay,” he said.  “It quotes extensively from a reliable primary  source and doesn’t venture into controversial secondary positions.” 

“Never mind,” Miss Groves whispered to me, “I don’t mind your trying controversial secondary positions when you’re alone with me tonight.” 

In spite of my poor grades, at least I had something to look forward to.