i do it so it feels real.

Since getting involved in the Secret History fandom, I’ve had a lot of thoughts about the Secret History and the idea of Dark Academia, and how the whole idea of Dark Academia really has nothing to do with that novel. Discourse around Dark Academia is usually simplified to two things: pure aesthetic based around Pinterest boards and clothing, and the repeated phrase that Dark Academia should actually be a criticism of Academia. Now, not to say that we shouldn’t criticize Academia. We most certainly should. But we can’t leave it at Academia is Bad!, particularly in a world where universities (particularly humanities programs) are being continually defunded, AI is taking over, and reading comprehension and such are at an all time low. The best criticism of Academia should really a criticism of the larger social forces that have shaped Institutions, not a criticism of intellectualism or university as a concept (this is essential both to avoid anti-intellectualism and to avoid looking away from those broader social systems and issues), but also criticize how Academia is devalued in our world (often by similar systems, i.e. Capitalism, Fascism, etc.), and the harm that is caused by this. The aestheticization of university through "Dark Academia" is actually a perfect example of this devaluing...

These two forms of criticism are essential to TSH. In the novel, Academia of in itself is not the problem. University of in itself is not the problem. Hampden is a vessel through which elitism, classism, and American/Puritan/Capitalistic lack of empathy is realized. The way that the university is so concerned with Bunny’s family suing over his death, for example. And some of the biggest criticisms of Hampden are not the academics, but the lack of academic value. Even though Richard went to Hampden to escape a place where “the hideous mechanics of birth and copulation and death—those monstrous upheavals of life that the Greeks call miasma, defilement—“ are “so brutal” and “painted up to look so pretty,” (10-11), this is a perfect description of Hampden itself, too. The aesthetics of an old New England University cover up an unrigorous academic environment that seems to mostly run on drugs and parties, so long as the rich students are giving their family money to the university. In spite of their apparent liberalism, they create a huge divide between the wealthy students in the college and the impoverished people who live in town, and—through Bunny’s death—are involved in platforming a man who spreads extremely harmful racist rhetoric. 

It is, however, also essential to the novel that the Greek class is actually isolated from the university, and that this isolation is what allows them to become an echo-chamber of their worst selves. To me as a Classics student, one of the biggest themes of TSH seems to be the death of Classics as a discipline in the modern world and the modern (American) university. This is a fundamental tragic aspect of the book: the way that Hampden dissolves its Classics program after Julian leaves; how Classics studies at Hampden have become this odd exclusive class run by this one strange man who is extremely elitist and exploitative of his students in the first place; the way that Henry—the ultimate Classicist (“Couldn’t beat him away from Greek with a stick” [54]) has a fundamental incompatibility with the modern world (even his death seems a tragic inevitability when seen in this light); the way that Richard ends the novel back in California, a state obsessed with newness and separation from history, studying English rather than Greek, which was his true academic love. The Greek Class’s general lack of knowledge about modern events and the utter lack of empathy that they have for the Farmer (McRee, always interesting how they almost never say his name…) is enabled by this isolation. If there were a larger Classics program, they would be integrated with their peers, and although this certainly wouldn’t make any of them perfect, it would probably avoid their more cultish tendencies. The scene where Julian has them plan how they could conquer Hampden town just the six of them is perhaps one of the best examples of this. 

But in spite of their isolation, the Greek Class is also part of the "painting up,"––the idea of none of the being "real scholars," for example. And of course how one of the most essential arcs in the novel is the contrast between the Greek Class members as Richard initially sees them and the cruelty and apathy that they all harbor. The brutality behind of aestheticization is arguably *the most essential theme of the novel.* Richard literally starts the whole thing off saying that his fatal flaw is a "morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs," (7), so it could not be more ironic how this book has become so embroiled in the aesthetic of Dark Academia...

Anyways, as a Classics student myself, I feel very strongly that Classics as a discipline doesn’t have to be so isolated. There is so much potential for using Classics in other disciplines, and so much potential in Classics for exploring the complexities of gender, class, race, and even geography. I could go on about that forever, but I won’t. The issue isn’t Classical literature/history/art etc. itself, but how it's treated and perceived in the modern world.

But in spite of everything that happens, Richard still looks back fondly on his time at Hampden largely because of the academic beauty that he experienced. This passage in particular stands out to me, and indeed is one of the reasons I love this book so much as I’ve never seen someone write about this kind of feeling so well. 

Unique find believed to be a 19th century umbilical cord clamp. Note the stork design and tiny hidden baby.