Mimesis and Perjuryrnby E. Christian Kopffrn^f^W4frnAtidal wave of intellectual, and sometimes financial, fraudrnis hanging above the happy tropical village of Americanrnacademia, threatening to crash down on it and sweep it awayrninto the off-shore reefs. The danger has a distinctly differentrnappearance if observed from the Olympian heights wherernphysical scientists view the approaching storm with Lucretianrncalm, or from the bustling lowlands where the busy teacher ofrnhumanities courses scurries to and fro, lecturing to a crowdedrnclassroom here, grading the papers from his senior seminarrnthere, in his spare moments scribbling out his notions for anrnacademic journal.rnThe physical scientist, who in America will allow to no otherrnthe name of “scientist,” sees the end of his reign as the onlyrntrue scholar, a reign that began in the 17th century and, withrnthe support of the Enlightenment Project, itself drawing to itsrnclose, exercised ever more power until the explosion in numbers,rnwealth, and prestige that followed the Second WoridrnWir. Ilis claim to objectivity and to a unique vision of thernworld, to possession of the key that opens the door to technologyrnand wealth, is under assault from many directions, grimmouthedrnfeminists, giddy Nictzscheans, solemn votaries ofrnGadamer. These would perhaps have little influence withoutrnthe growing evidence of fraud in the temple of Holy Science.rnThe plight of the humanities may be even more desperate.rnA few years ago, Rene Girard came to Boulder to tell us, “Wernlive in a world where plagiarism has become a philosophical impossibility.rnIt simply cannot exist. If a dean tells you that thererncan be such a thing, she must belong to some benighted fieldrnlike computer science. This is very good news indeed. It is sornE. Christian Kopff is a professor of Greek and Latin at thernVniversity of Colorado in Boulder.rngood that literary critics should be discreet about it for fear ofrnappearing a little self-serving.”rnGirard, it is fair to warn you, was speaking ironically, butrntruthfully. Departments of English and of the languages andrnliteratures of modern Europe have fallen almost completely underrnthe sway of Nietzsche, more than a century after he resignedrnhis chair of classical philology to pursue his vision.rnThere is no objective truth, and claims to such truth are merelyrnobtrusive signs of the will to power of church or state. A centuryrnago it took a carefully educated and brilliant classicist torndeconstruct, to point out the hidden and perhaps unconsciousrnagendas of bureaucratic state and popular morality and canonicalrntext. Even a generation ago, it took a decent education andrna lively French pen. Now every monoglot American graduaternstudent in comparative literature can do it.rnMore than a decade ago Stanley Corngold of Princetonrnwrote an essay on “Error in Paul de Man,” where he presentedrnto the readers of the prestigious theoretical journal Critical Inquiryrnthe discovery that De Man, guru of the Deconstructionistsrnat Yale, had mistranslated a key passage in Nietzsche thatrnhe was “deconstructing.” Critical Inquiry gave De Man spacernto reply, and De Man said, more or less, “Well, let’s take Corngold’srntranslation. I can reach the same results no matter whatrnwords the author used.” Some time ago a heavily publishedrnyoung physicist at the University of Galifornia-San Diego wasrnforced into early retirement when it was shown that he was usingrnthe same math equation in totallv different papers on substantiallyrndifferent topics. Dc Man did essentially the samernthing. I Ic admitted that no matter what words he shoved intornhis theoretical meatgrinder, the same baloney issued forth.rnIt had no negative effect on his reputation. Now, for totallyrnother reasons, his reputation is at a low ebb, and colleagues arernSEPTEMBER 1993/15rnrnrn