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His office was entirely furnished with bean bag chairs.
Instead of discussing my grade, he told me about his “difficult childhood” and then changed my grade to an A because he could just tell that clearly I “get” poetry.
He invited me over to dinner at his house, which was macrobiotic, he claimed to be a master of karmic sex magic, and revealed that he had a special room in his house just for sex, which was covered in purple velvet.
When I laughed at him, he said, “You’ll learn to like the sex room.” The sex was just ok. I was 29; he was 45, bald, and out of shape, but there was just something about him.
(This was a school on the east coast.)He called me into his office to discuss a poor grade I’d gotten on the midterm.
But no, it was to tell me we had to knock it off BECAUSE HE WAS IN LOVE WITH ANOTHER STUDENT, who was coming back that fall.
I pretty much stopped going to class, as all of my courses were held in his building, with him as professor, or with the student who supplanted me. He drove an unusual car and when I saw one of them I would flinch and my heart would race, ten years and thousands of miles away. Tl;dr: He lent me books, he broke my schoolgirl heart.
Her essay was met with outrage by some students, two of whom filed a Title IX suit against her, claiming Kipnis was retaliating against students at her school who had filed a complaint against a professor.
They also said she created a "chilling effect" on students' ability to report sexual misconduct.