There is a poignant pleasure to be found in loving something past its prime. Watching The Chair, a Netflix limited series in which Sandra Oh plays an academic struggling to stave off the decline of the English department she heads at a lesser liberal arts college called Pembroke, I caught myself in some nostalgia for my youth. It’s only partly that the show, down to its soundtrack, seems squarely aimed at my demographic, thirtysomethings with vague, long-abandoned designs on grad school. More than that, The Chair reminds me of my lost illusions, of a time when university English departments seemed viable refuges for people who loved books and ideas, and dramedy a thrilling, novel rejection o
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