'All right, all right -keep your hair on.'

Together they got dressed, Howard hUrriedly and Victoria languidly, with Howard taking a moment to marvel at the fact that the dream of many weeks -to see this girl naked -was now replaying in dramatic reverse. He'd do absolutely anything to see her with all her clothes on. Finally, after they had both fully dressed, Howard found his boxer shorrs tucked in a pillowcase. These he stuffed into his pocket. At the door, Victoria stopped him by putting a hand to his chest. She breathed deeply and encouraged him to do the same. She unlocked the door. Slicked his cowlick down with a finger and straightened his tie.

'Just try not to look like you love tomatoes,' she said.

In the early years of the last century, Helen Keller embarked on a lecture tour of New England, enthralling audiences with her life story (and occaSionally surprising them with her socialist views). En route she made a stop at Wellington College, and tbere named a library, planted a tree and found herself the recipient of an honorary degree. Hence the Keller Library: a long, draughty room on the ground floor ofthe English Department with a green carpet, red walls and too many windows -it is impossible to heat. On one wall hangs a life-sized portrait of Helen dressed in academic cap and gown, sitring in an armchair, her blind eyes demurely directed into her lap. Her companion Annie Sullivan stands behind her, a hand resting tenderly on her friend's shoulder. It is in this chilly room that all faculty meetings for the Humanities are conducted. Today is January tenth. The first faculty meering of the year is due to begin in five minutes. As when an especially important vote comes up in the House of Lords, even the most reluctant college members are present this morning, including the octogenarian tenured hermits. It's a full house, although nobody hurries; they arrive in staggered fashion, scarves stiff and wet with the snow, with salty tide marks on their leather shoes, with handkerchiefs and ostentatious coughs and wheezes. Umbrellas, like dead birds after a shooting party, pile up in the far comer. Professors and research fellows and visiting lecturers gravitate towards the long tables at the back of the room. These are laid out with pastries wrapped in cellophane and steaming pots of coffee and decaf in their steel industrial tankards. Faculty meetings -especially those chaired by Jack French, as this one will be -have been known to go on for three hours. The other priority is to try to get a chair as near the exit as possible, so as to enable discreet departure halfway through. The dream (so rarely achieved!) is that one might then be able to leave both early and unnoticed.

By the time Howard arrived at the doors of Keller Library all escape-route seating had already been taken. He was forced right up to the front of the room, directly underneath the portrait of Helen and six feet from where Jack French and his assistant Liddy Cantalino were fussing over an ominously large pile of paper, spread out across two empry chairs. Not for the first time at a faculty meeting, Howard wished himself as sensorially deprived as Keller herself. He would give a lot not to have to look at Jane Colman's pointy little witch face, her mane ofparched frizzy blonde hair and the way it thrust out from beneath the kind of beret you find in the 'Be a European!' ads in the New Yorker. Ditto the student favourite: 36-year-old;already tenured Jamie Anderson, specialist in Native American history, with his expensive tiny laptop, which he now balanced on the arm of his chair. Most of all Howard wished he could not hear the poisonous mutterings ofProfessors Burchfield and Fontaine, two portly grandes dames ofthe History Department, squeezed up together on the only sofa, wrapped in their swathes of curtain fabric, and presently giving Howard the evil eye. Like Matrushka dolls they were almost identical, with Fontaine, the slightly smaller of the two, seeming to have sprung fully formed from the body ofBurchfield. They sported utilitarian bowl cuts and bulky plastic eyewear dating back to the early seventies, and yet they remained radiant with the almost sexual allure that comes with having written -albeit fifteen years ago -a handful ofbooks that became set texts in every college in the country. No faddish punctuation for these gals: no colons, no dashes, no subtitles. People still spoke ofBurchfield's Stalin and Fontaine's Robespierre. And so in the eyes of Burchfield and Fontaine, the Howard Belseys of this world were mere gadflies, flitting from institution to institution with their fashionable nonsense, meaning nothing, amounting to nothing. After ten years ofservice they had still opposed Howard's tenure when it was put forward last fall. They would oppose it once more this year. That was their right. And it was also their right, in their capacity as 'lifers', to ensure that the spirit and soul of Wellington -of which they considered themselves guardians was protected from abuse and distortion by men like Howard, whose presence at the institution could only ever, in the greater scheme of things, be temporary. It was to keep Howard in check that they had raised themselves from their desks to attend this meeting. He could not be allowed to make any unsupervised decision regarding this college that they both loved. Now, as the clock struck ten and Jack stood before them all delivering his preliminary coughs, Burchfield and Fontaine seemed to ruffle and settle, like two big hens bedding down upon their eggs. They gave Howard a last, contemptuous glance. Howard, in preparation for the usual verbal roller coaster of]ack' s opening speech, closed his eyes.

'There are,' said Jack, bringing his hands together, 'a dyad of reasons why last month's meeting was delayed, rescheduled ... maybe in fact it would be more accurate to say repositioned, for this date, for January tenth, and I feel that before we can proceed with this meeting, to which, by the way, I warmly welcome you all after what I sincerely hope was a pleasurable -and most importantly a restful Christmas break -yes, and as I say, before we do proceed with what promises to be a really rather packed meeting as far as the printed agenda is concerned -before starting I just wanted to speak briefly about the reasons for this repositioning, for it was, in itself, as many ofyou know, not entirely without controversy. Yes. Now. First, it was felt by several members of our community that the issues to be discussed in that upcoming -now realized -meeting were ofa magnitude and a complexity that reqUired -nay, demanded -proper, considered presentations of both sides of the argument presently under our collective spotlight -which is not to suggest the argument before us is of a plainly binary nature -I personally have no doubt that we will find quite the contrary is the case and that, in fact, we may find 'ourselves this morning aligned along several different points along the, the, the, the fUnnel , if it can be put that way, of the discussion we are about to have. And so in order to create that space for formulation we took it on advice without a faculty vote -to delay that meeting, and naturally anyone who feels that the decision taken regarding that delay was taken without due discussion can make a notation of their objection in our online file system, which our own Liddy Cantalino has set up expressly for these meetings ... I believe the cache is situated at Code SS76 on the Humanities web page, the address of which I should hope you are all already familiar with -is that ... )' queried Jack, looking to Liddy, who sat on a chair beside him. Liddy nodded, stood up, repeated the mysterious code and sat back down. 'Thank you, Liddy. So, yes. So there is a forum for complaint there. Now. The second reason -a far less fraught one, thank goodness -was the matter of simple time management, which had come to the attention of many of you and of myself .and of Liddy, and it was her opinion, and the opinion of many of our colleagues who brought the issue to her attention, that at the very least the extreme -ifyou'll excuse the hackneyed analogy -gridlock of events in the December calendar -both academic and social -was leaving very little time for the usual and necessary preparation that faculry meetings -if they are to have any real effect at all -really require, ifnot demand. And I think Liddy has a few words for us with regard to how we will go about future scheduling of this crucial meeting. Liddy)'

Liddy stood once more and executed a brisk reshuffle of her bust. On her sweater reindeer were travelling unevenly, left to right.

'Hey, folks -well, basically just to repeat what Jack just said there, we ladies on the admin side of things are rushed off our behinds in December, and ifwe're gonna keep on with this hoo-hah of each department having a Christmas party as was pretry much decided last year, not to mention that we got practically every one of these kids chaSing some kind of a recommendation in the week before Christmas, even though God only knows they get warned all through the fall not to leave recommendations to the last minute, but anyhoo -we just felt that it made more basic horse sense to give ourselves a little breathing space in the last weekbefore the vacation so that I for one can know which way my ass is pointing come the New Year.' This occasioned a polite laugh. 'If you'll excuse my French.'

Everybody did. The meeting began. Howard pushed himself a htde lower in his chair. He was not up to bat yet. He was third on the agenda, absurdly, although everybody in the room had surely come to hear the Manry and Howard road show. But first, the Welsh-born classicist and temporary Housing Officer Christopher Fay in his harlequin waistcoat and red trousers must speak for an unendurable amount of time about meeting-room facilities for graduates. Howard took out his pen and began to doodle on his notes, all the time straining to simulate a pensive look on his face that would suggest an activity more serious than doodling. The right to freedom of speech on this campus, though strong, must yet contend with other rights, rights that protect students at this institution from verbal and personal aJtack,from conceptual denigration, blatant stereotyping and any other manifestation of the politics of hate. Around this opening gambit, Howard drew a series ofinterlocking curlicues, like elegant branches, in the style of William Morris. Once the outlines were completed he got on to the business of shading. Once the shading was completed, more curlicues suggested themselves; the pattern grew until it took up most of the left-hand margin. He lifted the paper up from his lap and admired it. And then once more with the shading, raking a childish joy in not exceeding the lines, in submitting to these arbitrary ptinciples of style and form. He looked up and pretended to stretch; this movement gave him an excuse to turn his head ftom right to left and to study the room for supporters and detractors. Erskine was sitting right across the room, surrounded by his Black Studies Department, Howard's cavalry. No Claire, or no Claire that he could see. Zora, he knew, was sitting on a bench in the hallway going through her own speech, waiting to be called. Howard's Art History colleagues were widely spaced but all present and correct. Monty -and this was a nasty shock -was a mere knight's move behind him. He smiled and acknowledged Howard with a Htde bow, but Howard, shamefully undeserving of such courtesy, could only whip back round and press his pencil into his own knee. There is a word for taking another man's wife -to cuckold. But what is the word for taking another man's daughter? If there were such a word, Howard felt certain that Christopher Fay, with his publisher-friendly, highly sexualized perspective on the mores of the ancient world, would know it. Howard looked up at Christopher now, still on his feet, nimble as a jester, speaking spiritedly, the little rat's tail at the back of his head flicking from side to side. He was the only other Brit on the faculty. Howard had often wondered what impression of the British, as a nation, his American colleagues must glean from their acquaintance with the two of them.

'Thank you, Christopher: said Jack and then took a very long time to introduce Christopher's replacement as temporary Housing Officer (Christopher was soon to be offon sabbatical to Canterbury), a young woman who now stood to speak ofthe recommendations Christopher had already outlined at great lengrh. A wide-reaching, yet subtle movement, like a Mexican wave, passed through the room as almost everyone repositioned their backsides on their seats. One lucky sod now escaped through the squeaky double-doors -a feckless novelist on a visiting fellowship -but she did not retire unobserved. Beady Liddy watched her go and made a note. Howard now surprised himself by getting nervous. He went through his notes quickly, too agitated to follow his material sentence by sentence. It was almost time. And then it was time.

'And now ifyou would tum your attention to the third item on our agenda for this morning, which relates to a proposed lecture series for this coming semester ... and if I can ask Dr Howard Belsey, who is tabling a motion in relation to, to, to, this proposed lecture series -I refer you all to the notes that Howard has attached to your agendas, which I do hope you have given the proper time and consideration, and ... yes. So. Howard, ifyou could... l'

Howard rose. '

'Maybe it would be more ... ifyou ... l'suggested Jack. Howard made his way through chairs to stand next to Jack, facing them all. 'You. have the floor: said Jack; he sat down and began to gnaw fretfully on his thumbnail.

'The right to freedom of speech: began Howard, his right knee quivering uncontrollably, 'on this campus, though strong, must yet contend with other rights ...'

Here Howard made the mistake of looking up and around him as public speakers are advised to do. He caught sight of Monty, who was smiling and nodding, like a king at a fool who has come to entertain him. Howard srumbled once, twice, and then, to remedy the problem, fixed his eyes on his sheet of paper. Now, instead of embroidering lightly around his notes, improvising, throwing out witty asides and employing all the other loose, fromthe-hip sophisms he had intended, he read rigidly and with great speed from his script. He came to a close abruptly and looked blankly at the next pencilled note he had left for himself, which said After outlining broad issues, get to point. Somebody coughed. Howard looked up and got another eyeful ofMonty -the smile was demonic -and then back at his paper. He pushed his hair away from where the sweat was sticking it to his forehead.

'Let me, um ... Let me ... I want to state my concern clearly. When Professor Kipps was invited, by the Humanities Faculty, to Wellington, it was to take part in the communal life of this instirution and to offer a series ofinstructive lectures in one ofhis many, many, many areas ofexpertise ...' Here Howard got the light laugh he'd been hoping for and the fi.llip his confidence needed. 'What he was expressly not hired to do was to make political speeches that potentially alienate and deeply offend a variety of groups on this campus: Monty now stood, shaking his head in apparent amusement. He raised his hand. 'Please: he said, 'may!?'

Jack looked pained. How he hated such conflict in his faculty!

'Well, now, Professor Kipps -I think if we can just, just, just ... if we can let Howard finish his pitch, as it were . . : 'Ofcourse. I shall be patient and tolerant as my colleague defames me: said Monty with this same grin and sat back down.

Howard pressed on: 'I will remind the committee that last year members ofthis university lobbied successfully to ban a philosopher who had been invited to read here, but who, it was decided by these members, could not have a platform at this instirution because he expressed, in his printed work, what were deemed to be "AntiIsraeli" views and arguments that were offensive to members of our community. This objection (although not an opinion with which I concurred) was democratically passed, and the gentleman was kept from Wellington on the gtounds that his views were likely to be offensive to elements of this community. It is on exactly the same grounds that I stand before you this morning, with one key difference. It is not my habit or to my taste to ban speakers of different political colours from my own from this campus, which is why I am not requesting such a ban outright but rather asking to see the text of these lectures so that they may be considered by this faculty -with the view that any material that appears to us, as a community, to contravene the internal "hate laws" of this institution -as laid out by our own Equal Opportunities Commission of which I am the chair -can be excised. I have asked Professor Kipps, in writing, for a copy ofhis text -he has refused. I ask again, today, at the very least, for an outline of the lectures he intends to give. My grounds for concern are two: first, the reductive and offensive public statements the Professor has made about homosexuality and race and gender throughout his career. Second, his lecture series "Taking the Liberal Out of the Liberal Arts" shares a title with an article he recently published in the Wellington Herald. which itself contained sufficient homophobic material to convince the Wellington LesBiGay group to picket and obstruct any lectures that the Professor might give at this college. For those ofyou who missed that article. I have photocopied it -I believe Lydia will give these out to anyone who wishes to read it at the end ofour session. So. to conclude,' said Howard. folding his papers in half. 'my proposal to Professor Kipps himself is as follows: that we will be given the text of the lectures; that. failing this, we will be given a proposed outline of these lectures; or. failing that. we shall be told this morning what the intention of the lectures is.'

'Is that ... l' queried Jack, 'That's the meat of your ... so. I suppose we must turn to the Professor and ... Professor Kipps. could you possibly...'

Monty stood and held the back of the chair in front of him. leaning into it as if it were a lectern.

'Dean French. it would be a pleasure. How entertaining all that was. I love liberal fairy tales! So restful -they put no undue strain upon one's mind.' A nervous giggle from the faculty. 'But, ifyou don't mind, I will stick to fact for a moment and answer Dr Belsey's concerns as directly as I possibly can. In answer to his requests I fear I must decline all three, given the free country I stand in and the freedoms ofspeech I claim as my inalienable right. I will remind Dr Belsey that neither of us is in England any more.' This raised an actual laugh, stronger than the one Howard had received. 'Ifit will make him feel better -I know how much the liberal mind likes to feel better -I hold myself completely responsible for the contents of the lectures I give. But I am afraid I am quite unable to answer his frankly bizarre request for their "intention". In fact, I admit it surprises and delights me that a self-professed "textual anarchist" like Dr Belsey should be so passionate to know the intention of a piece of writing ...'

A sprinkle ofmirthless intellectual laughter, ofthe kind one hears at bookshop readings. 'I had no idea,' continued Monty gaily, 'what a stickler he was for the absolute nature of the written word.' 'Howard, do you want to ... ?' said Jack French, but Howard was already speaking over him.

'Look, my point here is this,' declaimed Howard, turning to face Liddy as the nearest interlocutor, but Liddy was not interested. She was reserving her energies for Item 7 on the agenda, the History Department's application for two new photocopiers. Howard turned back to the crowd. 'How can he at one and the same time claim responsibility for his text and yet not be able to tell us what intention he has for the text?'

Monty put his hands on each side of his own belly. 'Really, Dr Belsey, this is too stupid to answer. Surely a man can write a piece ofprose without "intending" any particular reaction, or at least he can and will write without presuming every end or consequence of that piece of prose.'

'You tell me, mate -you're the constitutional originalist!' This got a wider, more sincere laugh. For the first time, Monty began to look a little ruflled. 'I will be writing,' pronounced Monty, 'ofmy beliefs concerning the state of the university system in this country. I will be writing employing my knowledge tU well tU my moral sense -' 'With the clear intention of antagonizing and alienating various minority groups on this campus. Will he be responsible for that?'

'Dr Belsey, if! may refer you to one ofyour own liberal lodestars, Jean-Paul Sartre: "We do not know what we want and yet we are responsible for what we are -that is the fact." Now is it not you, Dr, who speaks of the instability of textual meaning? Is it not you, Dr, who speaks of the indeterminacy of all sign systems? How, then, can I possibly predict before I give my lectures how the "multivalency": said Monty, enunciating the word with obvious disgust, 'of my own text will be received in the "heterogeneous consciousnesses" of my audience?' said Monty, sighing heavily. 'Your entire line of attack is a perfect model of my argument. You photocopy my article but you do not take the time to read it properly yourself. In that article I ask: "why is there one rule for the liberal intellectual and another rule entirely for his conservative colleague?" And I ask you now: why should I offer the text of my lectures to a committee of liberal interrogators and thus have my own -much vaunted in this very institution -right to free speech curtailed and threatened?'

'Oh, for ji