The Donaldson Controversy (5)

Watson’s position as best-in-class didn’t last, however.  For the next lesson we were greeted by yet another change of lecturer. 

“Where is Prof Harding?” Watson demanded. 

“Prof Harding is no longer teaching this class, his approach was deemed rather too dogmatic for undergraduate teaching. I’m Prof Wurlizer and I’ll be taking you for the rest of the course. If you could all please open your Bennetts at page 23.” 

Turner beamed at the request and opened his Bennett to the stated position. Miss Groves, too, discretely took out her Bennett, the first time I had seen her do so in public, and let me share the knowledge within. 

However, the rest of the class were not so endowed with Bennetts. Watson, of course, protested the loudest. 

“We don’t have Bennetts. Donaldson is the course book.” 

“Not any longer,” Prof Wurlizer said. “Donaldson is far too long-winded for a main text, Bennett is much more to the point and fact-led. 

“But we all have Donaldson’s, the library only has one Bennett and the bookshop doesn’t have any.”  

“I have asked the library and bookshop to address these deficiencies. In the meantime, take careful note of these lectures. You might learn something. 

As you might expect, Turner was overjoyed and made extensive notes, even though Wulizer’s lectures comprised him reading large swathes of text from the Bennett. 

After the lecture, Watson and his cronies accosted me once more in the corridor. 

“I hope you’re happy, Oblong,” he said. “You have a Bennett man in charge now.” 

“I’m not happy at all,” I said. “I’ve got a Donaldson.  I can see my next essay being marked down again for ‘veering from the primary text’. I don’t understand all of this Donaldson-Beckett nonsense, I thought we were here to learn history.” 

“You know that’s not why we’re here, Oblong.” 

“Can’t you have a word with your father, get him to contact the Board of Governors about Wurlizer?” 

Watson shook his head sadly. “Father earned something of a black mark over that, it seems that Prof Harding was a bit overzealous about Donaldson.” 

“Does that mean we’re stuck with Wurlizer?” 

“I’m afraid it looks that way.  We’re off to the bookshop now to get our Bennetts.” 

“I never thought I’d see the day,” I say. 

“Nor us,” said Watson soberly.  I have never seen Watson and his friends look so forlorn.  

I went to the library to work on my next essay. As Wurlizer had promised, there were now adequate Bennetts available, and I took one out, to accompany my Donaldson. 

As had become my routine, I lunched with Miss Groves, worked on my essay again in the afternoon, before meeting Miss Groves for darts at the Woodman followed by a night in her rooms.