a thirty-year-old paces toward the other presence, the song “ we are the world ” booming from the headphones hooked to his brand-new sony discman. lightly sun-tanned hands push up the falling headset; aramis’ slightly ungraceful, frenzied energy would probably fit in better with the students than the other members of the faculty. yet he does belong to it, a rookie professor. in rapid french, the novice asked, “ have you seen a cat anywhere? he has black fur, but bright orange spots on his coat. i named him kevin bacon,” he says, with his best impression of a generic “american” accent, “ but he answers to bête. “