Remembering Harold Bloom
On October 14, one of my heroes died. Harold Bloom was probably the best-known literary critic of my generation. His books and essays were erudite but accessible, insightful and witty, forthright but charming. He was a serious critic – miles above the intellectual drivel put out by most academic critics today. And, as you will read in this engaging obituary, he became a bit of a persona non grata at Yale when identity politics and what he called the school of resentment took over literary criticism.
But Bloom never buckled to the tyranny. And I’m hopeful that one day, when this fog of animus and stupidity clears, he will be recognized as one of the few in academia that kept his vision clear.