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Book exposes Paul de Man as academic fraud

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From time to time, I put down my duties of writing about politics and other human follies and pick up a book, often a book of poetry, often by W.B. Yeats. The other night I read Yeats' poem "The Fiddler of Dooney." It is a little masterpiece, but then Yeats wrote so many masterpieces. It begins: When I play on my fiddle in Dooney, Folk dance like a wave of the sea; My cousin is priest in...

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